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kairiscorner · 8 months

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olivia rodrigo my lodi 🫂

seeing him tonight... it's a bad idea, right? – miguel o'hara x reader (heavy angst)

content warnings! mentions of toxic relationships. please don't read below the cut if you are uncomfortable with these topics ^^

“why can't you leave me the fuck alone?”

“and watch you mope about why we're not together anymore all pathetic like that? it's pathetic for sure, but it's just getting sad now.”

you sighed as you took a long drag from the cigarette you fumbled out of the packet and, with shaky hands, took it out of your mouth and puffed a big cloud of gray and white smoke. he chuckled as he watched the puff of smoke dissipate into the air, hearing you cough as the nicotine burned in your lungs. "you okay?" he asked you with what sounded as hints of concern in his voice as he snuck a cigarette from you and lit himself one, putting the stick in his mouth and quickly blowing the smoke out of his mouth. there was something so picturesque, ethereal, about the way he breathed in and out the smoke from the cig–like he was a still life painting, and beneath all those pretty layers on his barely covered up, tan body; the way those black, fluffy curls perched and hanging on the top of his head, down to touch his eyebrows in little hooks just mesmerized you. and it angered you so much that it did, when nothing about him should have any meaning left to you anymore.

you clenched your burning cigarette by its body and squeezed it into two. you blew the remaining smoke out from your nostrils, losing the urge to puff another smoke as you chucked your cigarette to the side and snuffed it out with the foot of your shoe, putting so much pressure on it that the ash spread apart and created a kind of arc-like shape in your stead. he watched as you walked off, sighing softly, the clacking of your heels following you. though you couldn't get away for long since he took your arm in his and pulled you closer to him as he exhaled another puffy cloud of smoke. "it's not a good look on you to be such a bitch, y'know? if you have a problem with me, just say it. we aren't together anymore, don't feel ashamed or any of that... sympathetic bullshit you're thinking of." he practically berated you with his shit ass condescending tone that made you wanna bash his face in.

how fucking dare he talk to you like that? speak for you, do exactly what he kept doing when you two were together—make all his choices your choices, his feelings as your feelings? it may be a far stretch, but hearing him disregard how either of you feel... it sucks ass, it always does. why does he not take you any more seriously after you broke up with him? "are you thinking that i'm supposed to want you back?" he asked you monotonously, breaking the silence as he looks at you with tired eyes. dark circles accentuated the shape of his hazel brown orbs. it didn't seem like this week was of any comfort to him, not when tonight marked the one-year anniversary when you two had broken up. you confronted him, in this very alley that led back to his place, and told him you couldn't take it anymore.

'i don't want this anymore. i'm done. leave me alone and let me live my life.'

and some hurtful words were exchanged that can never be taken back.

'and you think you had a life before me? i'm your everything. you can't... fucking... you can't leave me!'

and some promises were made, on top of the pile of the carcasses of many unfulfilled, unanswered promises and questions that lingered in the miasma of discomfort and willful blindness to what each other wanted back then, needed from each other back then.

'i don't need you to tell me what i can and can't do anymore.'

weaknesses were exposed, and strengths were diminished.

and the love... oh, was there even any love there?

you yanked yourself out of miguel's grasp and crinkled your eyebrows together, shoving your hands in your jacket's pockets, looking away from him as his gaze burns into the side of your head that's turned to him—not letting even a single strand of your hair or patch of your skin escape his exhausted gaze anymore. "i honestly couldn't give a shit about what you want." you blurted out, not leaving the spot you're standing at, despite all the signals in your body urging you to lift your feet up on the ground, kick up, and run away right now before anything else can happen. but you don't. you don't, because you know that there's something more complex than simply wanting miguel to go away in what you want.

but for the life of you, you can't figure even a glimpse or whiff of it out.

miguel sighed as he leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his wispy hair, more curly locks falling down on his forehead, touching his eyebrows. "right. figures." he muttered. "why the fuck do you have to be here?" you asked him with a gruff voice, cracking due to the smoke you inhaled. "i live around here." he reminds you all nonchalantly, pissing you off even more. "...i know that." "and yet, you came by here anyway." he pointed out. he was always a smart ass, giving unsolicited thoughts and opinions when no one needed them. you refused to respond to that and kicked at the snuffed out, squeezed up cigarette that was bent on the pavement.

"if you want to hurt me, go ahead. i know i did really bad shit to you, stuff you never deserved. go ahead, hurt me." he told you as he approached you, his voice becoming huskier and raspier as you heard him from up close. his voice always got like that after argumets, you just noticed now; the way his voice would soften, falter, like his voice would literally get on one knee and yield—let you have your way after him having his way time and time again. "i can't be good for you, and... i don't think i can ever be good for you, really." he said with a sigh as he dropped his cigarette and snuffed it out next to yours. the bent shape of your cigarettes seemed to form crude hearts, the two big curves of a cartoon heart were shaped out by the curved cigarettes you both snuffed the lights out of; snuffed these hearts' beings out of.

he nudged you gently with his elbow and showed you his hands, raising them up gently to show you he means no harm, no pain, no... nothing towards you. he genuinely wants you to do what you've always wanted to him, no matter what it is, he's come to accept it. "just do what you have to. please don't keep... oh, fuck it." he murmured as you kept your gaze down, away from him. you weren't used to this, you could never get used to this; miguel was never the first guy to shove words into your mouth and plant decisions in your mind for you, but he wasn't the worst. there have been countless times when your heart was used, borrowed, broken, stamped on, torn apart—but none of the people who hurt you ever even tried to make amends; it was never in their nature to give you love, it was only in their nature to propagate hurt, and you never knew why you had a soft spot for human garbage like that, less than human garbage.

though he was never perfect, there was some bit of you that felt a catharsis around miguel when things weren't as bad as they were before the breakup, when you really felt like all those bad days... they'd never happen again; the eye of the storm had passed, and a great, sunny day was upon you. but like all sunny mornings that soon became troublesome, fretful, and stormy nights—they never lasted. miguel's smile was warm, once; his embrace felt welcoming, once—but whenever you think of him... you can't help but hear the echoes of the voices in your head whenever he'd get affectionate towards you, intimate with you: 'his love won't last, don't even hope for it.'

you kept your distance, you liked him—you... you really liked him; more than you can ever imagine. he used to not be so overbearing, he used to not be so angry all the time and more patient, he kept understanding for you that you wanted space... but you were always, always on the brink of breaking, even when it was never his fault. and you still are—the worst part of it all, though? you're always on the verge of breaking because... you can't help but yearn for the past with the old him again.

"you some masochist or something?" you asked him with a deadly gaze as you finally glared up at him, seeing his dark eyes become a little swollen. the sobbing was inevitable for him, his soft spot for you was too sensitive, it was an exposed muscle, exposed nerve of his that made him less... furious, and more... protective, yet vulnerable. he sniffled back his tears and tried keeping his voice leveled. "you could say that." he answered simply as he rubbed at his eye, wiping a tear away before it streaked down his cheek, but you caught him—he always did that whenever you'd scream at him on those off days, even when he tried to help, but just can't help.

you tried not to feel bad, not to feel pity, not to... feel a little guilty that you might've hurt him, too, like he hurt you—but you can't ignore that gnawing feeling in your gut that grew the longer you were around him. constantly being reminded of yourself, of your misunderstood to even yourself's self... you can't help it anymore. "look, it's stupid, i know—it's... horrible of me to ask you to do this, when i don't even know if you want to, that was my problem, wasn't it? i protected you from stuff i didn't even know about, didn't know the slightest bit about? i was suffocating you?" "...yeah." you told him with the quiver of your lower lip, with you instantly bit back as hot tears streamed down your cheeks, your chin quaking as you stifled the sobs; but they could only be held in for so long.

"yeah, you did..." you muttered as, along with the coming rain drops, your tear drops joined the pattering rain—staining the pavement as your sobs and cries were released into the air, mixing with the sounds and roars of the thunder, as miguel silently listened to you now, as you exclaimed out how you really felt all this time to him. "is it my fault i'm so scared you'll leave me like everyone else? is it my fault for thinking nobody really cares about the me behind this face? behind this body? is it... is it my fault i don't want you to protect me from my own demons because, even i can't keep them at bay! is it my fault for thinking you'd... you'd hurt me, and that you... your love wasn't even that?" you choked out, hiccuping and sniffling all the while as you screamed your lungs out at miguel. he hesitantly extended his hands towards you, to reach out to you—but he doesn't touch you, he refuses to touch you unless you personally tell him to.

as your sobbing slowed and your breathing became ragged, miguel finally let out his side of things. "and is it my fault that i felt so... ashamed of myself for not being enough to help you?" he choked out, his eyes watering and his voice cracking. he looks at you, and he can't even bear with himself that you are here—you are finally hearing him say what he's always searched for the words to say, all this time. his lips quiver as he stutters, groaning in frustration at himself as he fumbles every time he tries to tell you the rest of it all. "...i thought that, by you... refusing my help, i... i was losing you. there, there, now you know. i was scared of losing you, like i lost everyone else that ever mattered to me. i didn't know what was wrong, i was... i was scared. but you... you can't see me scared, okay? because w-when i get scared, everything goes to shit. and i... i-i wanna relieve you, not hurt you—you were, are, and always will be... my everything." he confessed, the tears streaming down his cheeks as he breathed in laboriously and exhaled deeply, covering his eyes, remembering to himself that crying won't make you feel better—but it's not the crying you're focused on, it's what he said.

and in that heated moment, when the silver lining tearing the clouds asunder opened up in your eyes—amidst the pouring rain surrounding you two non-stop—you pull him in close... and give him your own reassurance through that kiss that was, in all ways and forms, a bad fucking idea.

you didn't want to break up, you never wanted an ex like him—you never wished he got all protective, but you both hurt each other; this'll never make it right, this kiss isn't an oath to be his or for him to be yours—it's not a declaration of your ambiguous feelings... it's what you felt you had to do, and it... it ceased the hurting for once, for a millisecond. it felt like everything was warm again, but you knew this was fleeting... you didn't know if you could take it as a long, perpetual thing. maybe someday, the answers will reveal themselves in time. but miguel's answer... was to place his palms underneath your jawline, and as the rain pattered against your faces—making it hard to tell where the rain began and where your tears ended—you two spoke a language that neither of you understood until much, much too late.

the problem is... will the message be enough to change anything?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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thodi · 5 months

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NOVEMBER ‘23 READINGS

Period Food Cravings Really Exist and Have a Scientific Basis, Study Shows • prose

Carl Jung's Midlife-Crisis Notebooks • prose

I Remember Arthur • prose (tw: suicide)

Distractions • comics

It's not just you. LinkedIn has gotten really weird. • prose

100 Ways To Thrive Outside Of Capitalism • prose

The Myth of Self-Sufficiency • prose

City Arts & Lectures Presents Ocean Vuong • video

My Saturday Self Versus My Sunday Self • prose

Saving the World Like a Savarna • prose

The artefacts of our lives • prose

The big sleep: a photography book captures subjects in slumber • prose, photography

The Inside Job • prose

The Man Who Thinks He Can Live Forever • prose

Art of Darkness • prose

Too Tired Project • instagram page

Migratory Flights • prose

The Race to Catch the Last Nazis • prose

To move toward fully living • prose

Cooking with Wool: Pasta with Red Sauce • video

what’s earned, what’s not • prose

Visualisation and Why We Don’t Need it to Make Visual Art • prose

The Protagonist Is Never in Control • prose (tw: abuse)

URL Poetry Club • web

Thank You, Pamela • prose

Mere Belief • prose

Remembering Louise Glück (1943-2023) • prose

Museum Of Lost Memories • instagram page

science told me to go outside • prose, comic

To the Groundskeeper of Lodi Garden • prose (from this anthology)

Voices on Addiction: Searching for My Mother’s Ocean • prose (tw: alcohol, substance abuse, self-harm)

The Glitch Gallery • art, web

The Dutch Word for Gift • prose, art

Mary Oliver on the Mystery of the Human Psyche, the Secret of Great Poetry, and How Rhythm Makes Us Come Alive • prose

A Brief Guide for Navigating Toomuchery • prose

Hold Your Breath Up To The Mirror and Draw Yourself a New Face • poetry

Wisława Szymborska & the Poetry of Existence • prose

'Does Melancholy Foster Creativity?' • prose

What’s Special About This Number? • web

What does a happily ever after look like? • prose, web

tag list (reach out if you want to be tagged on these!) - @then-child-make-another @quesadillayuri

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catiuapavel · 11 months

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i really don't understand why all of the dark knights were fine with balxephon fucking over his brother and deceiving ozma tbh

To be fair, for the longest time most of them didn't know but you can split the Dark Knights into 3 categories when it comes to this oreal: those who were in on it, those who learnt of it afterward and regard it as some interpersonal drama, and Volaq.

Hobyrim and Balxephon were spies on their father's account, to keep watch over Lanselot and Loslorien's growing power. While Balxephon came to agree with Lanselot and swapped sides, Hobyrim was never truly a Dark Knight, just pretending to be one. Vogras' assassination and Hobyrim taking the blame for it benefitted the Dark Knights. So in their eyes, that was a necessary crime.

Lanselot knows this and either agreed with Balxephon's doing or actively encouraged him.

Oz knew as well and he doesn't strike me as one to particularly take a stand against corruption. You'd be inclined to imagine he'd at least stand up for Ozma and his House but he shows some bizarre resentment and animosity toward her in regard to her affection for Hobyrim and during Lawful route and CODA, he shows an unsettling willingness to cause her pain.

Now you have those who learnt after the fact but couldn't be bothered to side with Ozma:

Martym and Barbas seem to think this is petty drama and they can't stand Ozma anyway.

Andoras must have greatly enjoyed the discord among the Dark Knights. Any infighting is good for him. (he also can't stand Ozma but I don't imagine he cares much for Balxephon either)

So that leaves us with the Volaq case:

Honestly Volaq should be the Dark Knight who sides with Ozma against Balxephon. The text hints that he's a mentor to both Oz and Ozma (that's how I read "I lost Oz, I'll not lose you as well." at least). And he's a fervent patriot who seems to breath and live only for the sake of Lodis. He does beg Ozma not to desert and to listen to reason. He even promises her Lanselot will not let Balxephon go unpunished so you could imagine he doesn't agree with him. I know Volaq often appears clueless but I'm convinced he just does all he can to maintain some presumable innocence and he wouldn't outwardly back Balxephon's corrupt tactics but he certaintly wouldn't risk himself against him either (I mean... He has to keep all his options in case one side prevails). As a result his inner thoughts and judgements completely elude us. I wouldn't be surprised to learn he thought Balxephon did the right thing for Loslorien or Lodis but just couldn't be caught having a genuine opinion. He's simply the biggest whited sepulcher.

#tactics ogre

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midnight-serendipity · 2 years

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Better than the Fantasy: Chapter One

Pairing: Jax x Female OC (AU - Older man, Younger woman, College girl, Secret Identity)

Rating: M (Sexual Content, Violence, Swearing, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Marital Issues)

Synopsis: Freshly exonerated and newly-minted president, Jax feels out of touch with everything around him, and somewhere amid the hullaballoos, he lands himself in an online site, enticed with the company of a masked stranger, who unknowingly had closer ties to the club than both of them could have ever guessed.

Word count: 5.1k

Chapter One: First Day Out

The night was still young, the dark having just settled as dusk gave way for it. Gone were the vibrant pastels that painted the sky only a few hours earlier and now just a blanket of inky darkness remained in their place. Save for a splatter of blinking white dots that could almost have the California nighttime skyline pass as an illustration for a children’s book. There was a light breeze coating the air, a welcome reprieve for a blonde biker’s leather-clad back this time in August.

If only he didn’t love his kutte so much, Jax would have brought their uniform to the table. For the summertime at least.

He idly puffed on his cigarette as he continued to take in everything his gaze could pass on. Just like any other party the sons had, this one was packed and in full swing despite only being half-past ten. Girls dressed and half-dressed to the nines continued to flock in and out of the clubhouse. Some guys chased after said girls. While others were occupied in trying to find discreet and not-so-discreet places to puke their guts out. Prospects were busy running around, trying to keep the patches and their old ladies happy.

Two years ago, this would have been paradise to Jax – well, minus the puke. Two years ago, he would be down there in the middle of it all – well oiled, cheering and betting in on the fights, maybe even doing the fighting himself. Or perhaps he’d already be balls deep in Tara.

So, what was the newly minted president doing on the rooftop with only his cancer stick and a bottle of Jack for company?

Good question. He didn’t know.

His eyes continued to swivel, back and forth over the TM lot. On the outside, everything looked exactly the same. Same structures. Same colors. Same routines. Same people…well, almost. Jax sensed a shift in the energy and vibe within the club just before they went to Stockton. He was sure his brothers felt it too. He didn’t need to hazard a guess. They all knew it was from the betrayal of the man they used to call president.

Even though they had ideas in mind what they needed to do with Clay, the club had been forced to inaction as the fruits of his transgressions had borne and got most of them locked up. It didn’t need to be said that the priority from then on was to keep the club afloat. Opie, Chibs, Happy, Kozik and Piney bore the brunt of the heavy lifting. After that, they were spared from the decision furthermore because someone else took the reins. He could still recall the equal parts rage and satisfaction that boiled inside him when Opie told him the news during that visitation day, eight months ago.

Clay Morrow was no more. The bits left of him were found in Lodi, either stuck to the side of the road, or scattered as fertilizer.

To this day, not one of them knew the details – not even Unser. It could have been the Mayans, the Aryans, the Irish, the Niners or even the fucking Cartel that none of them had been aware he was dealing with.

All they knew is that somebody else got fed up with his lies, fed up with getting the short end of the stick.

Like the club members who he swore brotherhood to. Those were the same people he spat at, framing them for his dealings just so he could have an exit. And as if that wasn’t enough, he had to beat Gemma to an inch of her life before disappearing into the safety of the night.

The club was wrongfully charged with drug trafficking, and Jax could have kissed Lowen and Rosen – although Tig did kiss Lowen and Rosen – as the two tag-teamed to gather and present substantial evidence to prove that this time, the leather kuttes were truly innocent. It wasn’t an easy feat, and their combined efforts carved a huge dent in the club’s finances. But the duo did manage to cut a seven-year sentence short.

Still, two years was two years, and by the time the real culprit was brought to light, he was already fossil.

The only thing they were all grateful for is that no body count had been added to the onslaught that followed. Yes, they all suffered hits, on both sides of the fence – Jax getting shivved, Happy and Chibs both taking a bullet, and Juice enduring a beatdown. Luckily enough, all damage done was treatable and nothing fatal came out of it.

“Mind some company?” Jax’s head swivelled just in time to see his mom swing a leg over the edge. He flashed her a smile and stood up. Gemma smiled back as she took the hand he offered and stepped off the ladder.

“Easy ma. I don’t have any cortisone with me.”

There was no deflecting the smack on the back of his head. “I don’t need that yet you shithead.”

Jax chuckled, rubbing the stricken area as he re-claimed his spot. Gemma sank down next to him, fishing for her own pack from her back pocket and motioned for his lighter. The next couple of minutes were easily spent that way, wordless, pensive, and filled with nicotine.

But having known his mom for twenty-nine years, he knew he should savour the silence.

“I’m glad you’re finally out, baby.” Gemma combed her free hand through his blonde tresses, fingers playing with the ends. She didn’t comment about it. But he knew she was glad he kept his hair this long, said it made him look younger, laidback, carefree.

He grinned. “Thanks, ‘m happy too.”

He tipped his head towards her and his grin grew wider. “So, you and the pimp huh? When’d that happen?”

“When you were inside. Obviously.” She sassed.

Jax huffed out a laugh. “Obviously.”

He turned back to the view in front of him, but still felt her inquisitive eyes on him.

“Y’know this party is for you. The rest of the guys too, but mainly for you prez. So, you wanna tell me why you’re up here by your lonesome and looking like you just got divorced?”

He sighed. Ah, the million-dollar question right there.

“I don’t know ma.”

“Hmm,” Gemma gave a slight nod. “Tara?”

And that was just one added to the sources of his woes.

“I don’t know what’s happenin’ to us.”

“You fighting?”

“Past two years, I feel like that’s all we ever do. Even before we went inside, and when we were inside, I’ll be lucky if she answered any of my calls.”

Phone calls that were admittedly made too few and far in between. He could have made more of an effort and he was certain Tara knew that too. Heh, it wasn’t like Stockton had much to offer in keepin’ a man busy.

But for reasons he wasn’t ready to admit to himself yet or anyone else for that matter, he just didn’t.

“She tell you what she want?”

Jax hesitated, and he knew that was all Gemma needed as her eyes narrowed into slits.

“She wants to leave.”

“The club or Charming?”

Jax took another pull from his cigarette before snuffing it out with his foot. “Both. Wants me to go with her.”

Gemma let out a short derisive laugh. “Course she does.”

“Mom –”

“And how ‘bout you? What do you want?”

And just like the answer to all the noises in his head, he just gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

It was another minute of silence, as Gemma put out her own stick. Yet the sound of her mind working overtime was loud and clear to Jax.

“Look ma, the time we did, it wasn’t easy on her. It spooked her –”

Gemma huffed. “It wasn’t easy on anyone, Jackson.”

Jax raised his hands in surrender. “Ma, listen, all I’m sayin’ is –”

“No, you listen.” Gemma cut him off for the third time. “Whatever you wanna do, leave, stay, whatever – you decide that for your own. Not her. Don’t let her take that from you and when you do decide, make sure it is what you want. Do it with finality.” She shook her head. “Shit like that, you don’t go ‘round in circles.”

Jax blinked, watching the woman beside him in both awe and disbelief. He heard it first from Chibs when he was still in Stockton – Nero and Gemma. They said Nero had become quite the influence on his mother. At that time, when Clay’s stunt still stung fresh, Jax didn’t know what to make of it. Looking at his mother and hearing her talk this way, he thought he now had a pretty good idea. He tried, but his mind failed to conjure any memory of his mom looking this light during the past decade – weightless from all of Clay’s baggage.

“That’s it?” He tested.

Gemma shrugged her shoulders. “Everythin’ that happened, did my head in. When Clay beat me up, I thought that was karma’s way of –”

“You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“I’m no Virgin Mary Jax. I –”

“I know you’re not, Mom! But that asshole had no right to lay a hand on ya. Get that outta your head, a’ight.”

A surge of warmth engulfed Gemma, and she couldn’t help the smile it caused. Her right hand sought his left and she gave it a squeeze. “I know, baby. Thank you. But all I’m sayin’ is when my life flashed before my eyes, I realized I’ve made a lot of selfish choices. Hurt a lotta people.”

She released her hold on him and cupped his face with her hands. It was something she guarded closely within her heart and never shared with anyone, but every single time she stared in his baby blues and took in his face, she always felt a pinch inside her chest. He was JT through and through. She understood perfectly the commotion he stirred with the women. But staring at him also made her hurt – this life that she once so desired, now carved lines too early for her son’s face.

“Your father wanted the club outta guns. I saw the money and asked him to keep goin’. Told him it made sense to stay, and he did. But not because of the money, because of me. Now look where he’s at – I know that’s not my fault,” she added quickly as a look of protest marred Jax’s features.

She dropped her hands and sighed. “I’m just sayin’, I finally realized how much our actions can ripple. I don’t want any more what ifs and I certainly don’t want to cause hurt anymore, with you most of all. I want you to be happy Jax, so whatever your ticker tells you,” she lightly thumped his chest with a fist, “go for it.”

“You mean that?” Jax asked, astonished.

Gemma has always been the proud, helicopter-parent-come-to-life, and yes there were a lot of times she was so much more than extra. That was just her nature, especially after Thomas and JT died. She wanted to keep him close. It was often a pain, as he was forced to take the role of referee between her and Tara more times than he could count. But he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t any single time he didn’t benefit from his mom unleashing her inner Keyser Söze.

Hearing her talk this way, he knew it took a lot.

“I do, baby.”

He took both her hands and placed a kiss on her knuckles then lifted his gaze to raise a blonde eyebrow at her. Gemma pursed her lips, feeling cautious at the sudden shit-eating grin thrown her way.

“That mean you won’t meddle anymore?”

Jax barked out a laugh as he saw the wince that his mother obviously tried to hide but failed to do so.

“You asshole,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“Hey. I came from you.”

“Nah, you were probably switched when you were a baby.”

Jax snorted, drawing an arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t answer my question by the way.”

Gemma sighed. “I’ll try. But only if the doc behaves.”

Jax smiled and shook his head. He probably needed to call her out for that. But that was most likely best a conversation for another day.

“Not that.”

When he didn’t continue, Gemma just looked at him, confused.

“You and Nero.”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “Stop fishin’ for information. I know Chibs already told you and I’ve no doubt you already had Juice look into him this afternoon.”

“Hey, I’m happy you’re happy and he does seem like a good guy. But I’m not takin’ any chances just because he’s earned a few brownie points. Need to know he’s good for ya.”

It was Piney who introduced Nero to the half leg of the table. They met on a pub and chatted over some pints. The guys gave him an earful for drinking alone. But Piney being Piney just gave as good as he got. Old bat even got the nerve to be smug as Nero came in with a business proposition for the club. Diosa.

Right now, Jax might just be the ammunition to blow Piney’s ego through the roof. While unsure at first, from the way things were looking, he clearly owed the guy for playing Cupid.

Gemma’s eyes softened and even appeared a little moist. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Jax’s only reply was to pull her closer, placing a kiss on her temple. Rewind to the start of today, Jax was a pile of muddy questions. He was undeniably relieved that they were finally stepping foot on free soil again. And when his hand first closed in on the gavel, along with the president patch being sewn on his kutte – amazing didn’t even come close to label the rush he felt.

It was fuckin’ phenomenal.

But as the end of the day drew nearer, and the high of the earlier festivities started dwindling – Jax became more and more a six-foot-one pile of frenzied nerves. So much so that he had to step away from the throng of the partygoers. He didn’t even have a destination in mind but wasn’t at all surprised that his feet led him to the roof. He just wanted to breathe. He didn’t even have a clue what to expect when his mother followed him.

But he sure as hell was glad she did. His questions remain unanswered, and a lot of uncertainties were still clearly weighing in on all of them. But closing the day with what seemed to be a lot like hope, was absolutely much better than the feeling of total loss that had made home in his gut the past years.

And maybe for now that was enough. Maybe that was the first step and he owed it all to the woman who always straightened him out.

Ten hours earlier.

Westlake Village, 362 miles Southwest of Charming.

From its palatial architecture, it was understandable why Westlake College is often mistaken by the non-residents of the County as a villa inhabited by a Mediterranean aristocrat. But what the outsiders didn’t know was that it was twice as impressive on the inside. With the abundant wisteria overhanging from the pergola, the sprawling southern magnolia lawn, the rustic limestone fountain with its intricate carvings sitting in front of the student residences, the majestic sculpture of the Goddess of Love herself standing by the entrance of the Faculty of Arts – these were only a few to name, but among the numerous reasons why the collegiate body felt they have been transported to Greece once they step foot within its borders.

The school sat on seventy-five acres of land and having only been established in the earlier years of the 2019 decade – it was relatively smaller and younger compared to its peers. Their roster of students may also be a little shorter. But Westlake College was already notable from end-to-end of Uncle Sam, under an entirely different reputation.

The institution boasted of educating the largest number of trust fund kids.

“So, I heard your mom bought new wheels?” Amy asked.

“Yes!” Georgina exclaimed. “She got a Bugatti Chiron. I was hoping for a Centodieci though. But it’s nice enough.”

“Oh my God, I love that car! I’m so jealous.” Nina stated.

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“She’s gonna let you drive it?” Liza asked, surprised.

“Of course, duh.” Georgina stated teasingly.

“Heh. You know what this means, right?” Nina asked, a devious glint in her eyes. When she was only met with confused stares, she continued on. “Guess who’s going to have a new car by the end of the week?”

Amy sighed, exasperated. “Let me guess. Goldie Hawn?”

“Girls be nice. You know how it is” Amy said in a singsong voice before she drummed her hands on the table, “Once a redneck always a redneck.” All the girls chimed in, the entire table bursting out in laughter.

“Uh oh. GS nine o’clock.” Liza stated haughtily in a mock whisper. The effect was instantaneous, all heads turning to that direction and true enough a familiar brunette was set to pass by their table.

Amelia Seville.

With her rich, dark chocolate locks that cascaded to slightly below her shoulders, a heart shaped face, hazel eyes, the slim and elegant slightly upturned nose – the girls supposed she could be considered pretty. Her frame wasn’t half bad either, she ticked off all the checkboxes for a dancer’s body. If it wasn’t for her decent rack, she could be confused for a ballerina. It wasn’t that surprising, after all, aside from her dual degree in business administration and fashion design, the girl also had dance as a minor.

And they heard she had quite the knack for the craft, but they were yet to see her in action.

Her name was a constant in the Dean’s list, with her GPA always toying between the 3.8s and the 3.9s, sometimes locking in the golden 4.0. But her name appeared to be constant in something else as well. For it echoed through the grapevine that a few boys from the soccer and lacrosse teams swapped ideas on where they would like to bend the lady over.

That could be true, but even if so, honestly, the girls just couldn’t figure out what all the rage about her was.

But maybe, just maybe it had more to do with all the intrigues that surrounded her. Add her glasses to the mix, and she looked like the perfect candidate for a good girl with plenty of skeletons in her closet – didn’t the mystery always add to the thrill of the chase?

Apart from her mom’s reputation on the forefront of the scandal, Richard’s odd behaviour these recent months, choosing pole of all things as her specialization in dance, rumour has it that Amelia was closely acquainted with a porn star. But to this day, no one was certain since the girl in question and her two loyal cronies remained little nuts, tough to crack.

Amelia could still feel the eyes of WC’s cheerleading squad pinned on her after she had passed their table. There were murmurs, that she was sure was meant for her ears to pick up. Nothing new, really.

The alias of Goldie Hawn was dubbed to her mom – Elena McKinnon. But the title had totally nothing to do with the actress, nor the looks, because that would be like comparing a peach to an apple. It just so happened that her mom was declared as the notorious resident gold digger of Westlake Village. So, Goldie Hawn to be discreet. Maybe.

As for Amelia, she was Goldie Spawn. GS for short.

“Paparazzi on the lookout,” Joey stated as Amelia sat down beside him.

She just shrugged, unlike her friend who was unapologetically meeting the cheerleaders stare per stare.

“Aren’t they always? Where’s Hannah?”

“Cafeteria.” Joey shook his head, still watching their interlopers.

“Don’t those girls know that the nineties are way over?”

“Most likely didn’t get the memo,” she replied, taking her vermicelli bowl out of its bag.

“Pfft. Still doing the Regina George to a T.”

Amelia turned to her friend, smirking. “Mean Girls was 2004.”

“You know what I mean. Smartass.”

Truly, Amelia did know. Because for reasons they found inexplicable, some students of WC or maybe stretched to most were apparently fond of stereotyping and fitting into the shoes of those stereotypes as well. And just as Joey implied, it was like reliving a nineties teen movie.

“Missed me my minions?” As if materializing out of thin air, Hannah dropped unceremoniously on the bench in front of them, placing a bag of popcorn on the middle of the table.

“Oh God. You are a lifeshaver. I’m sho famished!” Joey said in between munches.

“You just finished a quarter pounder meal and a blueberry pie! How are you still hungry?” Hannah exclaimed, grabbing her own handful.

“Sweetheart –” he bopped her nose after swallowing.

She tried to swat his hand away but failed. “Don’t touch my face –”

“– I am a woman in a man’s body! –”

“– Your hands are greasy!” Hannah motioned for wipes, which Amelia handed to her.

“– It’s not my fault this creature” he gestured down his body, dodging the crumpled wipe Hannah threw at him “is always hungry!”

Amelia snorted, content to third wheel on this conversation. Joey was the self-appointed queen of the LGBTQ society. He was tall and lanky, with hooded eyes and jet black, unruly mop of hair that always worked sexily for him. And perhaps, similar to most, if not all guys who swung the other way – he was a sassy little thing.

Looking at Hannah, Amelia was always reminded of a pocket-sized fairy. She’s had her hair forever in a lovely lilac pixie cut that flawlessly accentuated her face. That, her vibrant green eyes, exuberant energy, porcelain skin and petite frame combined just seemed to be the perfect excuses for Amelia’s mind to conjure her as this little ethereal creature.

She too, was quick to gain the attention of many WCers as she was one of the few who sailed through college with the help of a scholarship – and God forbid a job at the local grocery – after her mom got relocated to Westlake for work.

Together, the three of them was an impenetrable fortress as they liked to think.

“So,” Joey started casually.

Bringing a chopstick-full of noodles to her mouth, Amelia’s eyes swivelled back and forth, noticing the two now resorted to peacefully sharing the popcorn.

“You discussed it with your aunt yet?” He asked, turning to Amelia.

“Yeah, what happened about that? You haven’t said anything yet.” This time, Hannah looked intently at her too. She propped an elbow on the table, resting her chin on her closed fist.

Amelia swallowed her food, before meeting both their gazes. “Because we haven’t yet. Talked about it, I mean.” She watched the two of them exchange looks.

“Like you haven’t had the chance to talk yet, or you just didn’t tell her yet?” Hannah clarified, with beady little eyes.

“Both,” Amelia answered, unfazed.

“Why?”

This time Amelia’s gaze slid to her left, greeted with Joey’s features contorted into a confused frown. “What do you mean why?”

It only took a split-second, as the expression on his face turned lethal. “Don’t answer my question with a question. We both know you’re too smart for that.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I just feel like I shouldn’t yet.”

“Why? You think she won’t like it?” Hannah asked, bemused.

“Ridiculous. That doesn’t sound like her.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Amelia agreed, then released a breath. “You know Lu. She’s always been supportive of me from the get-go, and even though we’ve never discussed it before, I know she’ll like the idea.”

“So? Why delay it?” Joey asked. Him and Hannah glanced at each other again.

Amelia paused, shielding herself behind another mouthful of food she just took. Truthfully, she could understand the confusion. Almost an hour exactly to the week before, they were huddled in the social hall, intent to work on some school work together without getting shushed.

Hannah, who started binge-watching Friday Night Lights just two weeks prior, was giving them a voluntary recap like she always did. Joey who already finished the series was ecstatic to have someone share his love for Tim Riggins. Together, the two of them regaled the story like a regular-scheduled commentary.

Amelia was working on a case analysis for her Ethics and Corporate Social Responsibility class, when she received a nudge to her ribs. She looked up, meeting their excited gazes.

“What?” She questioned.

“You should pull a Lyla!”

Amelia’s eyes widened, straightening on her chair. “You mean work at Cara Cara?”

Hannah made an exaggerated roll of her eyes while Joey flicked her on the forehead. “No, you nerd! Pull a Lyla Garrity and not a Lyla Winston!”

“Oh!” Then right after her moment of realization, her forehead crinkled. “So what did Lyla do?”

Hannah flashed her a grin. “She moved out of her hometown to pursue college.”

Oh.

Now that was a story arc not unknown to her, she had read or seen it one too many in works of fiction. Unless she was absolutely nuts for the story, she never truly tried to wrap her head around the idea. But to put herself in that shoe…

She felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach, but quickly dismissed it. Yet Joey and Hannah’s keen look of hopefulness directed at her made it known she was not quick enough.

And now these two had made it their mission to coerce her into submission. It seemed daunting, yet admittedly thrilling. Especially when these two were set to graduate in ten months. One year earlier than her. But she didn’t know if it was something she could sink her teeth into. Or if I should.

She sighed. “Things at home,” she shook her head. “I just don’t think it’s the best time.”

“No offense, babe. But living with Richard and Elena?” Joey snorted, then admonished. “There’ll never be a best time.”

“Did Richard come home drunk again?” Hannah asked.

In the sixteen years Amelia had known Richard McKinnon, she knew the man prided himself on his health consciousness. She had never seen him with a smoke on hand. He had an established workout routine that he devoted religiously to. On the rare occasions that he indulged in alcohol, he never drunk to the point of incoherence – until recently that is.

It was past midnight on a Friday. She was coming down the stairs to grab some water when a man stumbled through the front door. His figure was hunched, and he smelled like a brewery. Her first instinct was to scream bloody murder. That was until her eyes zoned in on the suit that looked eerily familiar. Her thoughts were confirmed a second later when the man stepped foot within the dimly lit area of their living room.

The image of her stepfather plastered, triggered a flashing neon warning sign in her head. Now, she was aware that Richard, being in his late forties was well within his rights to drink himself to next week. But despite wishing that this was just a guy’s typical night of debauchery for him, in her heart of hearts she was certain that something deeper in him had run amuck – leading him to chase solace at the bottom of a Remy Martin.

He swayed past her, casually singing – or more like mumbling – Heartbreaker, and staggered up the way she came from, almost sending her to a coronary as he missed a step. Thankfully, he was able to upright himself and keep himself in a shaky vertical as he ascended the marble staircase. She was only able to release the breath she didn’t know she was holding once he was completely out of sight.

That was six months ago, and the last thought she had in mind that night was to hope this wasn’t the start of a particular fixation. But fast forward to just a week after that, that same hope had been proven futile. Because that had just been the start of many.

And here she was counting down the days she’d see him sober, wishing for the beginning of a clean streak – a cold turkey on his part. Only to be crushed just a few days later.

“Yeah. Tuesday”

“Damn and here we were hoping he’ll last longer than a week.” Hannah sighed in disappointment, before her brows pinched in thought. “When was his last before that again, Thursday?”

Amelia’s heart sank as she shook her head. “No. He drank Sunday too.”

“Wow, it’s –”

“Becoming more frequent. I know,” She finished for Joey.

“D’you think he needs to go to rehab?” Joey asked tentatively.

“If it were entirely up to me, yes I think so. Or at least see a therapist or a counselor or whatever. But –”

“It’s not for you to decide.” This time, Hannah concluded the statement for her, and all Amelia could do was nod.

“And we all know the mention of rehab is a social suicide for Elena.” Joey remarked, rolling his eyes “Because God forbid, her amigas catch wind of it and then bring it up during their Sunday brunches or those Gala things they attend.”

Hannah shook her head. “I still really think you should tell Luann.”

“Just ask her for advice or anything,” Joey added.

She knew they still sensed her reluctance to do so. To be honest, she did miss talking to Luann. Apart from the usual clothing consultations through Facebook messenger, it had been a while since they last had a decent amount of heart-to-heart.

But just like she said, she didn’t want to raise false hopes for the both of them. Luann knew as much as her that Elena was the law in the McKinnon household. Amelia did challenge her at times, and as much as she was tempted to put her foot down, she did care a little too much about what she would leave behind. And just like what Luann, Joey and Hannah always pointed out – this was her Achilles’ heel.

“Okay,” she agreed. But by the looks the both of them were giving her, she knew they could tell how half-hearted that was.

A/N: I decided to jump the gun and forego the snippet. Here is the chapter 1 of Better than the Fantasy!

I’ve been working on this for soooo long now and I thought it’s probably time to start posting. This is completely AU and even though Tara is mentioned here, her and Jax’s story will in no way follow canon.

Camilla Belle is my face claim for Amelia, inspired particularly by her appearance in From Prada to Nada. She was the first image to pop in my mind because I think she fit Amelia’s physical features perfectly. But of course, feel free to picture anyone you like. 😉

A big shout out and huge thank you to @lovebarefootblonde for beta-reading for me. Your talent, wisdom and friendship is always a very big help and encouragement.

Lastly, I won’t have a posting schedule set-up and it does take me a while to finish a chapter. So if you want to be added to my taglist, dm me or click here.

#jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #jax teller imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy au #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #Better than the Fantasy

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moemachina · 5 months

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In The Family Way (Tactics Ogre: Knight of Lodis)

She comes that night, despite the half-hearted barricade he left against the inside of the door.

Elrik opens his eyes in the dark. He cannot see her, but he can smell her: rotting meat with an edge of sweetness.

"Hello, husband."

He squeezes his eyes shut again, and he hears her laugh.

"Shall I join you, husband? Have you kept the sheets warm for me after all this time?"

A small, cold hand touches his face. Elrik shudders, but he does not pull back as she climbs into bed and lies beside him.

The next morning, he flees Blete forever.

#drabble #tactics ogre: knight of lodis #fanfiction #elrik #euphaire

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kyndaris · 10 months

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The Art of Decision-Making

Tactics Ogre is a game that first released in 1995. It saw a re-release on the PlayStation Portable (PSP) with a revamped title: Tactics Ogre: Let Us Cling Together before emerging once more to grace our consoles as Tactics Ogre Reborn. And as a fan of the Final Fantasy Tactics game, who also thoroughly enjoyed her time with Triangle Strategy, trying out the original inspiration behind these two games was a no-brainer. After all, strategy/ tactical role-playing games have always been able to present the conflicts of war in a both complex and engaging manner, especially when they allow for personal choices to influence the trajectory of where the story may go.

Of course, given this is a role-playing game from Japan, a supernatural element must be inserted. Along with a late-game reveal of the true antagonist. In Tactics Ogre, I was pulled a little from my enjoyment of the story when the initial focus was resolved and the final boss ended up being with a literal demon incarnation of the previous king.

True, they had sprinkled in some of King Dorgulua’s backstory with Catiua’s reveal but the war between the Gods and the Ogres (whilst present in the opening credits) was mentioned little throughout the game, what with its focus on the repercussions on war. So, the entire exposition with Dark Knights Barbas and Martym felt a little hamfisted in its attempt to introduce the big bad at the end of the game.

In a way, it also dismissed a lot of the earlier turmoil that took up the bulk of the game was insignificant as a God emerged from the depths to rule over the world. Especially as, even though you can have Catiua in your party, her relationship with King Dorgulua is never touched upon during that final battle.

Beyond these little titbits, as well as a few well-worn tropes of disguised royalty, I did still thoroughly enjoy the initial set-up of the game with Denam, Catiua and Vyce rebelling against Galgastan oppression on the Walisters. The internal fighting among the rebellion, the moral dilemma of whether or not to kill your own to drag unwilling participants into war and the underhanded tactics to install a ruler over the land of Valeria was a sight to behold.

In fact, it would have been the preference of this humble blogger if things had remained there with King Dorgulua’s name fading into the annals of history. Or if there had been renewed focus on the nations of Lodis or New Xenobia and what their stakes were when it came to meddling with Valerian affairs.

Given that the game came out back in 1995, though, it’s understandable for why the developers decided to go down the route they chose. Despite the questionable choice of ending boss battle, the game still holds up even today. I would have liked some additional context with the other Ogre Battles and the history of the world I found myself in (this entry being the seventh episode) but I was still able to follow along in terms of the general motivations of the core characters as well as the villains.

This was especially astounding when it came to the choices that Denam had to choose in key beats of the plot. The variations of choice, even dialogue options, had ramification for the ending. Not to mention the Chaos Frame mechanic that was hidden behind it all and could have led to other distasteful outcomes for our main protagonist.

The gameplay for Tactics Ogre is very similar to Final Fantasy Tactics. It includes hiring or recruiting generic fighters to the cause and using them in battle. Of course, there are also unique characters with their own special sprites. But in terms of the actual flow of battle, the unique characters added little. Although, some had special classes that added a little flavour to battles. It should be noted that for every major battle, only Denam, had to feature in them all. The other playable characters could be interchanged with little repercussions. Or dismissed if the need arose.

Just like Final Fantasy Tactics, the game featured an overworld map and when a battle was entered, it would zoom onto a particular map with a grid overlay. Characters can move, use skills and perform one action. The action could range from using spells, items or actually attacking another character. The key to Tactics Ogre’s battle system is not unlike the weapon triangle of Fire Emblem. However, it is switched to six elements. Those being fire, water, lightning, earth, air and ice.

There is also an unspoken counter system with mages being better placed to counter buffed frontline attackers, mages being vulnerable to ranged attacks from archers, and units with higher defence taking minimal damage from ranged weaponry. Something I only gradually picked up on later as I favoured charging in and trying to destroy everything as quickly as possible.

Mana, like Triangle Strategy, is a limited but rechargeable pool that is empty at the start of battle. This differs from Final Fantasy Tactics, which allowed mages to immediately start raining hellfire onto their foes from the very beginning. It allowed for more tactical positioning as I awaited for enough mana to unleash what spells I had equipped my magic users. Mana was also important for non-magic users too as they were key to using finishing moves that could deal out a ton of damage.

As such, there was a good strong focus on buffing up the magic reserves for all characters. The only downside to this, of course, was how few and far between such mana replenishing items were as they did not appear to be sold at shops and had to be found as drops from enemies or occasionally scrounged up from certain tiles on battle maps.

One important thing I noted when playing Tactics Ogre Reborn was the fact that items, spells and skills were limited. One could not deck out their favourite warriors with 99x of all items. Rather, they could equip four of each. This meant that item usage, spells and skills had to be considered for each encounter. While this led to a few annoying battles where I struggled against certain units (of note, beasts), it did add another layer of strategic thinking to an otherwise excellent game known for the tactics needed.

Especially as there was a level cap for my characters!

I was utterly devastated to learn that I could not simply overlevel all my characters to decimate the opposition. Rather, my characters were all limited by the ‘Union Level.’ This allowed battles to be even-playing fields and I couldn’t take advantage of better stats to stack the battlefield. A shame, I know, but I made up for it by exploiting crafting and ensuring that my army was well-armed and well-equipped for each battle I went into. If I hadn’t used the exploit and had played it as it was intended, I would have, no doubt, struggled a little more with the game with fewer resources at my disposal and having to better pick and choose the units I took into each battle.

Of course, such things could be counteracted by picking up buff cards that could allow me to deal more damage than my unit might have usually been able to deal out against a particular enemy. It was especially useful against the final boss.

Overall, I enjoyed my time with Tactics Ogre Reborn. While I would have preferred being able to overlevel my units so I didn’t have to fear losing against difficult bosses, it allowed me to think differently on how I engaged with tactical role-playing games. There was even some joy in it when it came to repurposing my units and swapping out abilities and spells when required to deal with a particular annoying foe that favoured certain status effects such as petrification or fear.

Most of all, what I loved most of Tactics Ogre Reborn was the world-building and the hidden layers within. Perhaps one of these days, I could find a way to play the other Ogre Battle games but for now, I am still quite satisfied with the complex world that was crafted to explore what it means to rebel against oppression and to dream of a fairer and better world.

#video games #tactics ogre reborn #tactical role-playing game #square enix #denam #catiua #king dorgulua #choices matter

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sfpsych0 · 1 year

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losterthanlost · 2 years

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September 14, 2022

Hello.

hi so nung september 6 pala nagtweet ako sa priv na I don't need saving.

kasi, marami kasi ako nakikita mga fans na like na save daw sila ng artist etc etc. Just being honest, I am happy for them. kasi they found happiness sa mga lodis. saved them, kept them sane during their dark times. good for them.

pero kasi ako hindi ganun. pero since nung fan ako ng skz (ophxs name drop na ako hahaha yolo) marami ako nakita na nagpopost about skz saved them. basta parang emotionally attached sila sa artists. ako, attached din sa artists pero hindi talaga emotionally. pero kasi ewan anong problema ko. dahil cguro sa sobrang pagka people pleaser ewan dow boang. dahil sa mga nakikita kong mga emotionally attached fans, naging emotionally attached din kuno ako. shemz. anong problema ko hoy.

ayun. family famliy chuchu. ako rin kuno. pero parang totoo yun para sa akin nung time na yun. pag naiiyak ako, totoo talagang naiiyak ako. pero ngayon ko lang narealize na dahil cguro yun sa nafifeel ko ang feelings of attachment ng IBAng fans sa kanila. pero hindi talaga directly akin yun na feelings of attachment. hahays.

pero umabot pa rin naman yun sa point na totoo na talaga akong emotionally attached sa kanila. but it resulted to me thinking of them highly. parang pedestal ata term ng iba para dito. like as in. di ko naman talaga core genre and music nila. pero naapreciate ko pa rin naman. like nagugustuhan ko pa rin naman. pero kung di ako attached sa members, I doubt I would ever like their songs. but I have no regrets tho. becausethe experience helped me appreciate that genre. which then helped me like nct music and eventually taylor's reputation album. hahahahahahahah. grabe noh? sensya na. chill genres lang po kasi ako sanay. di masyado sa edm range. lalo na sa "noise music" genre. pero ayun nga, walang perfect na tao, may mga issue sila katagalan, and then natanggal pa ng member etc etc. so ayun. so yung parang reputation nila sa isip ko kung saan naka-attach din ang emotions ko, after ng mga issues na yun, ayun nasira po. hahhaha. huhuhuhu.

pero oks lang. no regrets naman ako. I needed to go through all that to realize the importance of being honest to myself and to others. actually di lang kpop panggulo sa utak ko non na nagpush sa akin to be honest. pati yung faith/religion aspect ng buhay ko panggulo rin sa utak ko. grabe. wew. nagbreak down ako nun. akala ko intense crying lang tawag non. breakdown pala. hahahaha.

so ayun nga, diba di ako honest noon. pero gradually, hindi agad-agad, yung pagiging honest ko sa mga LIKES and DISLIKES ko. ngayon, I can finally say na honest na ako sa part na'to. kung di attractive sa akin ang bagong debut na group, di ko na binibigyan ng 2nd thought. kung may mga kanta sa album ng mismong current ult ko, di ko na pinipilit sarili ko na pakinggan ulit yun. pag di ko na feel mag gawa ng mga gawain kuno ng fans like duty shit shit, di ko na ginagawa. kasi isa sa pamressure noon na grabe very suffocating, ay yung voting voting. wew. grabe yon. yung parang ang sama-sama na naming tao pag di kami nakavote. tapos pag nanalo ang group, di daw pwede maki celebrate ang mga di nagvote. potangena talaga yun. like, ??? eh achievement yun diba. happy ako eh. bawal matuwa? so ayun. hahaha. basta di na po ako nagpapapressure sa mga ganon. grabe masama sa storage ko po. daming apps na kailangan idownload tapos di naman yumayaman pilipinas dahil doon.

so okay tapos na ako diyan na aspect. pero etong emotional attachment in the context of being saved, ito ang di ko pa narealize since noon. akala ko sa likes and dislikes lang ako and fangirling style lang ako may honesty problem. pati rin pala sa emotional attachment na 'to.

kasi di ko po talaga ng saving. everytime I say thank you <insert kpop grp/mem> for keeping me happy/sane throughout chuchu. it feels halfhearted. but back then I still post it anyway. pero nung sep 6 ko lang talaga narealize na kaya pala half heated kasi di naman talaga totoo. di totoo na kailangan ko ng savior. di totoo na naging fan ako because they made me happy during my sad times. I became a fan because I liked their songs. as in nacheck ko halos buong discography nila bago ako nagseryoso kilalanin members. tapos, unlike sa skz, nagustuhan ko ang kanta nila ang I actually listen to their songs casually. as in, anytime of the day, anywhere. kasi tuwing fangirl time lang ako nakikinig kanta ng skz eh. like, yan ang reason naisip ko na di ko pala talaga core genre ang skz. ang mga ults ko ngayon ang core genre ko.

okay balik sa part na di nga ako needed saving na fan. trip ko lang talaga sila. kaya ayan ngayon finafollow ko na mga members and mga releases nila. kasi trip ko una una ang music nila. nakaka-drain kasi ang stan ng stan ng kung sinong lumabas or kung sinong meron. hahays. bata pa ako noon eh. di na ako babalik doon.

as ehn. grabe for almost 3 years, basically throughout the pandemic, sa kpop na umiikot utak ko. hahays. masama na ata to. lalong lalo na ngayon na year kasi loa ako first half of the year and applying for loa na rin for the rest of the year. gawaing bahay lang and mandarin class ang pinaka inaatupag ko. kaya maraming time for kpop to rule my mind. hahays. nakakapagod na actually. i mean di naman like nakakpagod as in nagrereklamo ako. kasi masaya naman po maging fangirl. pero like, parang wala akong ngafifeel na accomplishment kasi phone laptop lang ako. hahays. grabe. di naayos sleeping habit ko the whole time na nag loa ko. sabi ko pa naman sa sarili ko na aayusin ko health ko while loa. pero di po. mas lumala ang dark circle ko sa mata. as in. dark na po siyang legit. ang stressed ko tignan. 21 pa naman ako. naging less physically active din ako. bilis ko nang hingalin. pero kasi mas naging bitter kasi ako this year kasi yknow my familia is very samok. ingay ingay. jusko. hahays. basta ang point is nae-exhaust ko ang energy ko mostly for kpop kasi tagal matulog. hahays. so masama na for me huhu.

aaaagh basta. ayun na nga. dapat maging mas honest na ako sa sarili ko sa mga alam kong kailangan kong gawin. tinatamad na nga ako manood ng content nila eh. makinig ng mga kanta nila ayun na lang ang kaya kong gawin. manood ng mga mvs nila occasionally. kung ano lang talaga trip ko. oo nanood ako sa tiktok ng mga videos related sa kanila pero di rin good for my health ang tiktok kasi nga puyat and overstimulation of the brain. nakakabobo po. ilang beses ko na tong naprove sa sarili ko. like dahil sa overstimulated brain ko. di na ako makapag-isip ng susunod na gagawin. ang lungkot lungkot ko after. kasi nga wala na akong pinapanaood so di na masaya ang aking brain. pero antok na ako ang masakit na mata ko kaya stop na ako. wew. very unhealthy of me. basta list ko mga di ko na dapat ginagawa.

ay wait bago ako maglista sabihin ko nalang dito na nag-iisp na akong i-let go nct. like, maging unupdated fan na lang ako nila same sa reveluv and swiftie life ko. di naman ako updated sa mga whereabouts ng nga artists na'yan. pero fan pa rin ako nila and nakikinig pa rin ako sa mga kanta nila. kasi core genre ko 'tong dalawa eh. pati nct core genre ko na rin sila. pero updated fan ako nila masyado. ayoko na. parang muscle memory na nga lang pag-open and pag-iiscroll ko sa twitter ko eh. sheesh. not good at all. jusko. dapat di na ako maging zombie mode. recently napaisip na rin ako about sa "kung papasok na kao sa kwarto or uupo titigil para mag-open phone imbes na gumawa ng chores, edi ano magagawa ko? wala. mag cecellphone pa rin naman ako. wala naman akong mabuting mapapala diyang aside sa sakit sa mata and sad feelings".

so kanina and yesterday dahan-dahan ko nang ginagawa. kasi yung mga pinggan hinugasan ko kanina imbs na dumirecho ulit sa kwarto. nice one self. ngayon balak ko na linisin sana top bunk. ibaba lahat. pero antok na ako eh. mas maganda ata matulog na lang after ko sulatin entry na'to.

so ayun nga dapat maglista na ako ng mga things:

gawa ng household chore imbes na magopen phone

uninstall tiktok. wala naman akong topic na pinopost doon. uninstall ko na lang rin pati twitter. tapos unsuscribe sa spotify. (done both)

kung di ko na feel alamin pangyayari sa buhay ng mga lodi ko, edi di ko na alamin. di na ako mapepressure manood ng contents nila. bahala na sila diyan di naman mawala mga vids na yan. di na rin ako bibili albums kahit unsealed pa yan or any merch.

~~~~

lalog out na sana ko kaso naisip ko na mas makaka-let go cguro ako ng maayos kung magsusulat ako ng tbh sa lahat ng lodis ko. as in honest feelings and thoughts ko especially about sa pake ko sa kanila. di ko alam kung dito ko isusulat sa entry na to or iseseperate entry ko. i quote reblog ko na lang cguro. sana di lumabas sa tags. baka kasi may makakita tapos magalit pa sakin pag may sinabi akong di positive. so what? journal ko naman to. my own head.

oki nanayt na cguro. bagay na bagay sa feelings ko ngayon ang why ni bazzi. I need to let go na talaga. good nyt. :>

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daybreak-rps · 1 year

Note

Haru looked up at the Lizarhd, a bit of unease flashed in his eyes as the traveling fortune-teller stopped in front of him. The Goatt stood tall, despite being so short compared to the albino. His dark eyes looked into the reddish-pink hues of the reptile.

"You said you wanted to read my fate?" he asked Lodi. He wasn't sure he believed in that stuff, but it never hurt to see what he thought, even if it turned out to be a scam. "What do your cards say?"

"Yes, that's right. I can tell just by looking at you that you have an interesting destiny that lies before you." Zodi shuffled his deck, cards flitting about, rotating and shifting with careful precision to not drop a single one. The lizarhd's adept claws moved faster than the Goatt could keep up with.

After the cards were shuffled, Zodi laid the deck face down at one end of the table, before sliding it along, spreading out the full 22 cards in an arc.

"Pick any three cards you desire, and I'll read the past that once was, the present that you're living through, and the future that may be closer than you think. Don't think too hard about what the card might say. All I ask is that you be gentle with them."

#zodi the lizarhd #fatedgoatblood

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imgibbon · 2 years

Text

A deep dive into Ogre Saga / Ivalice Alliance continuity

Since I got a lot of comments to the tune of "you know those aren't actually connected, right?" on this Ogre/Ivalice thread, I feel like it's worth revisiting & going into how these titles form a coherent world with actual connections and continuity https://twitter.com/IMGibbon/status/1488962184092606472

So I'm going to attempt to do that, one at a time, in release order, showing how the series has built up its lore and history over the just shy of thirty years(!) it's been ongoing now.

You can find this thread in ridiculously long and image-filled twitter form here: https://twitter.com/IMGibbon/status/1496998485047930922 Tumblr only gives me 10 image slots so I'm going to use them sparingly lol

So anyway, once again, welcome to the Wubbulous World of Yasumi Matsuno.

1993.03 - Ogre Battle: The March of the Black Queen [Super Famicom]

We start with Ogre Battle: The March of the Black Queen, originally released for the Super Famicom in March of 1993, and later receiving ports for the PlayStation and Sega Saturn. These would spruce up the graphics, change up the fonts, & add some voice acting.

Supposedly Episode V in an ongoing saga, started in the middle (as one does when you're inspired by Star Wars). This release actually sets the scene for the next half dozen or so that follow it, even across multiple publishers and development teams, via its characters and lore.

Long long ago, humanity fought a war against Ogres and Demons. Among humanity's champions, the Twelve Disciples of the heavens were gifted sacred Zodiac Stones by the gods and used their power to drive the armies of the Underworld back into their domain and seal them away.

Other artifacts of note from the Ogre Battle are the Holy Grail, gifted to humanity by the heavens; the Black Diamond, a 13th Zodiac Stone created by a banished Disciple; and the Fire Embl-er, the Crest of Fire, held by humanity's champion as they drove back the demonic hordes.

25 years prior to the game's start, Empress Endora conquered the continent of Xetegenia (sometimes spelled with a Z). During her reign, a resistance organization forms to free the continent. The plot opens with the player character Destin taking command of the Liberation Army.

Throughout the course of the campaign, Destin is joined by various other characters, such as Lans Hamilton, a former knight of Xenobia (again, sometimes with a Z); Warren Omon, a mage with the ability to divine the future; Tristan, the rightful prince of Xenobia; and others.

After the Empress is slain, it is discovered that she was manipulated by Rashidi, a dark wizard in the Empress’ employ. Destin defeats him, but before he dies Rashidi releases Diablo, the king of the Underworld who was sealed away after the first great Ogre Battle.

Destin and their army manage to seal Diablo away again before he can become too powerful, using the mythic Zodiac Stones that have been gathered over the course of the campaign. Bringing a close to this first chapter in the burgeoning fantasy universe.

1995.10 - Tactics Ogre: Let Us Cling Together [Super Famicom]

The second release in the series was to be Tactics Ogre: Let Us Cling Together, originally released in October of 1995 for the Super Famicom, it too got ports to the Sega Saturn and Playstation, and again they were mostly effects and performance tweaks.

Episode VII of the ongoing Ogre Battle Saga (yes, they skipped ahead one), this builds on MotBQ's base, featuring a new conflict in a new locale, but featuring returning characters & items from the first game while introducing some new legacies of its own.

Tactics Ogre takes place in Valeria, an archipelago nation united under one King Dolgare. After Dolgare's apparent death with no direct heirs, the three primary ethnic groups of Valeria end up in a brief civil war, dividing into dedicated territories of varying sizes.

The factions are Bacrum-Valeria, backed by the foreign nation of Lodis and ruled by its regent, Bishop Branta Mown; the Galgastani (referred to as the Gargastan Kingdom in some localizations) led by Cardinal Barbatos; and the Walsta People led by Duke Ronway.

After the Galgastani gain the upper hand and declare themselves ruler of Valeria, the neighboring Walsta are subjugated and restricted to a small island. The story opens with a small Walsta resistance group, including main character Denim Powell and his sister Kachua.

They attack a group of roaming Xenobian mercenaries falsely believing their leader Lans Hamilton (returning from MotBQ) is the Black Knight Lans Tartare, a Lodis soldier who imprisoned Denim and Kachua's father Plancy in their childhood.

The sympathetic Hamilton joins the group, bringing the old sage Warren (also returning from the previous game), and the rest of his Xenobian troops, while Kachua vainly attempts to dissuade Denim from fighting.

The game at this point opens up on some branching story paths, an early branch opening up when Denim's loyalty to the resistance is tested when a compatriot orders the massacre of a town that refuses to join them, framing Galgastan for the crime.

Eventually finding their father Plancy dying from a terminal illness, Plancy reveals to Denim that he is of the Mown family (the regents of Bacrum-Valeria), and that Kachua is King Dolgare's illegitimate daughter, giving her a direct claim to Valeria's throne.

Among the Galgastani forces is the necromancer Nybeth Obdilord, who is a whole tier of evil unto himself. Nybeth has his own superdungeon, the Palace of the Dead, on the 100th floor of which can be found one of the game's new mythic artifacts, the mysterious Gran Grimoire.

In all routes, both the Golgastani and Tartare's forces are defeated and Denim kills Branta Mown. Survivors of Tartare's Dark Knights use the stolen Xenobian sword Brunhild to break the seal on a portal leading to the realm of the dark god Asmodeus.

It is revealed that Dolgare, overcome with despair by his wife's death, made a pact with Asmodeus in an attempt to resurrect her, becoming an Ogre in the process. He attempts to reclaim Valeria, but Denim's forces defeat him, Warren sacrificing himself to seal the fiend away.

1997.06 - Final Fantasy Tactics [PlayStation]

After the completion of Tactics Ogre, Matsuno left Quest for Square, taking with him already-in-progress plans for the next Ogre entry, which would eventually be released on the Sony PlayStation as Final Fantasy Tactics in June of 1997 to cult success.

This title establishes the kingdom/world of Ivalice, which would continue to appear in later titles for the next 25 years or so. While not explicitly the same world as the Ogre games for legal reasons, there are numerous indications to suggest they are one and the same.

A couple thousand years ago in-universe, an undescribed Cataclysm ravaged the world, scouring numerous kingdoms from the map, driving some of the fantasy races to extinction, and eliminating magic as it was then known, leaving humanity to pick up the pieces and rebuild.

Out-of-Universe, this Cataclysm can be read as a bit of a metatextual symbol of Matsuno having to eschew explicit references to his prior Ogre games and start anew with Ivalice, and serves as a nice divide between the two franchises.

Slightly more recently, only 1200 years ago, the saintess Ajora Glabados was born. After her execution, her followers formed the Church of Glabados, integrating the legend of the mythic Zodiac Stones (last seen in MotBQ) & the Braves who wielded them into their holy scriptures.

As the game opens, Ivalice is recovering from a Fifty Year War against neighboring Ordalia. After the death of its ruler, Princess Ovelia and Prince Orinas are the top candidates for the vacant throne.

The former is supported by Prince Goltana of the Black Lion, and the latter by Queen Ruvelia and her brother, Prince Larg of the White Lion. The two groups engage in what would later be known as The War of the Lions.

Ramza, of the noble Beoulve family of knights, and his childhood commoner friend Delita, witness the murder of Delita's sister during an uprising, causing them both to abandon their ties to the nobility.

Ramza joins a mercenary group protecting Princess Ovelia and her guard Agrias from being hunted by both sides of the conflict, while Delita joins Goltana's forces. They are reunited during a kidnapping attempt of Ovelia by Prince Larg forces.

Agrias suggests sheltering Ovelia with the Church of Glabados. Along the way, Ramza meets Mustadio Bunansa, a machinist in possession of one of the thought-lost holy Zodiac Stones, who is also seeking church protection due to those seeking to take the stone for themselves.

Ramza eventually discovers that the Church of Glabados has been using the now corrupted thirteen Zodiac Stones to instigate the War of the Lions. Ramza is branded a heretic and chased by the Knights Templar, the soldiers of the church who are hunting the Zodiac Stones.

He acquires proof of, and tries to reveal, the Church's lies about Saint Ajora - and that she was in fact the mortal host of Ultima the Fallen Angel, leader of the Lucavi, a group of corrupted scions and mythic beings who sought to supplant the gods.

The two sides in the war face off in a major battle that results in the deaths of both Larg and Goltana, securing the Church's control over Ivalice. After the battle Ramza discovers that the Lucavi have been using the Church in an attempt to resurrect Ultima once more.

The War of the Lions was needed to generate the numerous recently slain souls needed for the ceremony, and the mortal host chosen to house Ultima's own soul in this new age is Ramza's younger sister Alma.

Failing to stop the ceremony in time, Ultima is resurrected, though Ramza and his allies succeed in destroying her and escape into obscurity. In the epilogue, Delita marries Ovelia and becomes the King of Ivalice, though the two eventually end up stabbing each other.

Orran Durai, a member of Ramza's party, chronicles the Church's evil plot with the "Durai Report", but is burned at the stake for heresy. 400+ years later his descendent Arazlam Durai finds the report and vows to get the story out, serving as the narrator for the entire game.

1999.07 - Ogre Battle 64: Person of Lordly Caliber [Nintendo 64]

Jumping back over to Quest for a hot minute, several of Matsuno's team stayed behind and continued working on the Ogre Battle series. The next release in the franchise was to be Ogre Battle 64: Person of Lordly Caliber, released in July of 1999 for the Nintendo 64.

Serving as the Saga's previously skipped Episode VI, Person of Lordly Caliber takes place roughly concurrently to the events of Let Us Cling Together, again in a new setting, and again featuring returning characters and items from the original Ogre Battle game.

The story follows Magnus Gallant, a recent graduate of the Ischka Military Academy, and fledgling captain in Palatinus' Southern region, Alba. As civil war erupts in the country, Magnus eventually decides to join the revolution with its leader, Frederick Raskin.

The campaign takes Magnus across the nation, first liberating the southern regions with the aid of Destin and his Xenobian troops (returning from MotBQ), then the other three corners of the map before finally marching on the capital of Latium.

However, along the way Magnus' battalion the Blue Knights find their enemies escalating, including the puppet king of Palatinus, the Holy Lodis Empire (whose forces are also operating in Valeria), & the Dark Hordes of the Netherworld themselves, rearing their heads once again.

Like Tactics Ogre, there are multiple branching story paths and possible endings, but among them all Frederick dies an untimely death. One of the endings suggests that the entire plot was fomented by a returned Rashidi, but unfortunately the storyline has yet to be continued.

2000.02 - Vagrant Story [PlayStation]

Back on the Square side of things, Matsuno was putting out his next title in February of 2000, the highly experimental hybrid action/turn-based RPG Vagrant Story for the Sony PlayStation, which takes place in the ruined city of Leá Monde in the kingdom of Valendia.

The story centers on Ashley Riot, an elite agent known as a Riskbreaker, and his partner Callo Merlose, an agent of the Inquisitors, who must travel to Leá Monde to investigate the link between a cult leader and a senior Valendian Parliament member, Duke Bardorba.

In the prologue, Ashley is blamed for murdering the duke, and the game discloses the events that happen one week before the murder, with some additional comments and narration by Arazlam Durai (returning from FFT's framing device) commenting on the current events.

Sydney Losstarot, leader of the religious cult Müllenkamp, laid siege to Duke Bardorba's manor in search of a key and kidnapped Bardorba's son, Joshua. Sydney is a practitioner of The Dark, a concept introduced in Final Fantasy Tactics as the source of one evil witch's power.

The Dark as a concept is very central to Vagrant Story as a whole, used to explain the presence of undead in Leá Monde, why they dissolve into black mist upon defeat, the powers of many dark arts wielders therein, and other supernatural phenomena within the game's world.

As Ashley and Callo chase Sydney through Leá Monde, it eventually comes to light that the city, established some two millennia ago, is in fact a construct created from a mythic tome, the Gran Grimoire (last seen in Tactics Ogre).

As machinations unfold between Ashley, Sydney, and others, it comes to light that this has all been an elaborate plot to gain the powers of the Dark, with Ashley unwillingly becoming its new host, marked by the pronged cross known as the "Blood-Sin" by the end of the game.

Beyond things like the Gran Grimoire or Arazlam, the city of Leá Monde also contains the enshrined remains of several dramatis personae from the War of the Lions; such as Ramza's ashes, the gem currently sealing away Ultima, and a balm left behind by Agrias, among others.

These all work to weave a very strong continuity with Final Fantasy Tactics, which were only solidified as time went on via interviews and later releases.

2000.06 - Ogre Battle: The Prince of Xenobia [NeoGeo Pocket Color]

Meanwhile, back at Quest again, the first of two gaiden titles was being released - June of 2000's Ogre Battle: The Prince of Xenobia for the NeoGeo Pocket Color. Unlike prior Ogre titles, this is considered a side story and isn't a numbered "episode" in the ongoing Saga.

Starting prior to the events of March of the Black Queen, this title follows a chunk of the life of Destin's future ally Prince Tristan of Xenobia, with later portions of the game occurring concurrently to MotBQ, but from Tristan's point of view this time.

There's not really a lot to say about this one. It's a fairly faithful port of the Ogre Battle gameplay onto a handheld system, and served more as a proof of concept such things could be done than anything else, though its fleshing out of familiar characters is welcome.

2001.06 - Tactics Ogre: The Knight of Lodis [Game Boy Advance]

Following that up, the team decided to be more ambitious with their next project, and just a year later in June of 2001 released their second prequel side story - Tactics Ogre: The Knight of Lodis for the Game Boy Advance, this time serving as a prequel to Let Us Cling Together.

The storyline follows Lodis soldier Alphonse Loeher as he learns of his country's oppression of the neighboring land of Ovis & eventually turns against his former comrades. As with the prior Tactics Ogre, the game features many choices and branches, allowing for multiple ends.

Though perhaps not immediately apparent at the beginning of the game, by the end the narrative has revealed the background and motivations of the Black Knight Lans Tartare, one of the primary antagonists of Let Us Cling Together.

While being a fairly straightforward Tactics Ogre prequel, this does surprisingly contain some links to Final Fantasy Tactics, in the form of two disguised demons, Lethe & Cirvante, bearing very similar fake names to those they would later use during the War of the Lions.

2003.02 - Final Fantasy Tactics Advance [Game Boy Advance]

Those that had remained behind at Quest and continued working on the Ogre games were reunited with Matsuno when Quest began shutting down in 2002. Their first title at Square would be Final Fantasy Tactics Advance for the Game Boy Advance, released in February of 2003.

The Ivalice in this title is a facsimile of the real Ivalice created by the Gran Grimoire (last seen doing similar in Vagrant Story), this time acting in a fashion similar to the titular tome in The Never Ending Story, creating an escape from reality for four young children.

Those 4 being Marche Radiuju, a new student & in the modern day town of St. Ivalice; Mewt Randell, a shy boy pining for his late mother; Ritz Malheur, an assertive girl & classmate of theirs; & Doned, Marche's younger, handicapped brother and a big fan of fantasy novels & games.

The game centers on Marche as he tries to find the others and figure out what happened. Even after realizing how much better his life is in the new Ivalice, he believes that none of it is real and is even more determined to return to his home with everyone.

He finds that Mewt is the ruler of the land alongside his mother; his depressed alcoholic father now a respectable leader of the Judges of Ivalice; Ritz is an adventurer of another clan and no longer suffers from albinism; and Doned is now healthy and able to walk.

Eventually Marche succeeds in his quest to return Ivalice to normal. He achieves this by defeating Li-Grim, the physical manifestation of the Grimoire's wish-based magic that had been masquerading as Mewt's mother, Queen Remedi.

He teaches the other children in the process that they cannot live in fantasy but must learn to live with their misfortunes in reality. The other children are wiser from the experience, as the ending reveals them all to have become happy with themselves.

This marks a bit of a new era for Ivalice, both in and out of universe, as the next half-dozen titles center around the pillar that is the then-in-development FFXII, & Tactics Advance was no exception, serving as a bit of a sneak peek for some characters and locales thereof.

We also mostly move out of the realm of ambiguous game connections. Square launched the "Ivalice Alliance" sub-franchise banners around this time to formally denote Ivalice titles that have clear continuity with one another, most of which also feature characters from FFXII.

In Tactics Advance's case, those elements would be Marche's Moogle friend and Clan leader Montblanc; the Judges, the de-facto guardians and enforcers of law & order in Ivalice; and some other odds & ends that end up debuting here early ahead of their intended console introduction.

More general elements include some of the new mainstay races of Ivalice, created for XII, such as the lizard-folk Bangaa, the rabbit-kin Vierra, and the somewhat dog-like Nu Mou, reminiscent of the Mystics from the 1982 film The Dark Crystal.

There were also a number of returning bits from prior games as well, chief among them the Lucavi from FFT, now dubbed "Scions", serving as this game's summons. The Scions are 24 mythic beings split into the forces of The Light & Dark. The Lucavi being of The Dark, natch.

2006.03 - Final Fantasy XII [PlayStation 2]

Ending up being Matsuno's final project at Square for some years, Final Fantasy XII suffered a troubled production, Matsuno leaving Square for various reasons partway through development, being released in a state the team wasn't entirely satisfied with in March of 2006.

The team would finally "complete" development a year later with an "International" version that implements sweeping balance tweaks, a job system, an optional super-dungeon, expanded quality of life options, and other changes, though nothing pertinent to lore or continuity.

That Japan-only International release would later be brought to the states with a remaster subtitled "The Zodiac Age" in 2017.

As discussed above, Final Fantasy XII was a new tentpole for the Ivalice subseries. While not deriving explicitly from anything from past titles like FFT stemmed from MotBQ, it still calls back and explicitly lays out where it sits with regards to Ivalice's history and setting.

Prior to the thrust of the plot, the kingdom of Dalmasca is invaded by the Archadian Empire, assassinating the king, announcing that the culprit was Dalmascan captain Basch, and proclaiming that the Dalmascan Princess Ashe has committed suicide.

Two years later, street urchin Vaan sneaks into the palace a powerful magical crystal, a magicite. He is discovered by Balthier Bunansa and Fran, a pair of sky pirates also looking for the magicite. The three are captured by Archadian forces & meet Basch, still imprisoned.

Basch reveals that his twin brother Judge Magister Gabranth was the one to kill the king. The four escape and discover Vaan's childhood friend Penelo has been kidnapped. After her rescue, the party is captured & encounters the not-dead Princess Ashe, now leading the Resistance.

As you may have noticed, the plot has many parallels to Star Wars, with Vaan as Luke, Basch as Obi-Wan, Gabranth as Vader, Balthier as Han, Fran as sexy Chewbacca, and Ashe as Leia. It's not a secret that Matsuno draws influence from the films, but this is a bit on the nose lol.

The magicite is revealed to be a royal Dalmascan artifact, "deifacted nethicite", and is retrieved from the heroes. The party escapes, but Ashe needs the nethicite as proof that she is the princess, so they journey to collect another nethicite relic, the Dawn Shard.

The crew eventually meet the makers of nethicite, the immortal Occuria (who "pull the strings of history") who give Ashe a mythic blade to cut new nethicite from the fabled Sun-cryst. She also learns that the Occuria Venat has been the one manipulating Archadia from the shadows.

Ashe decides not to take her revenge by following the Occuria's wishes, but instead destroy the Sun-cryst. Gabranth is defeated, and the party infiltrate Archadia's sky fortress and have an epic battle with the Emperor and Vanet, ending the war.

Ashe formally becomes the Queen of Dalmasca; Basch replaces his brother Gabranth as the chief Judge Magister; and Vaan and Penelo fly an airship to meet Balthier and Fran for another adventure. You can almost hear the Star Wars ending credits fanfare playing.

So, let's address this first: The Ultimania Omega's timeline is wrong. I legitimately believe it to be innocuous human error, but it lists an incorrect date, which has resulted in the internet thinking that XII precedes FFT for the last dozen or so years.

In-game, Final Fantasy XII contains a lore entry that describes the Kiltian religion being founded "two millennia" ago and that the Glabados denomination thereof was founded "several decades" later, shortly after Ajora's death. FFT puts the foundation of Glabados at "1200 years ago", placing it around 800 years before XII.

However, the Ultimania Omega instead says that the Glabados denomination was founded several decades after Final Fantasy XII, which completely mucks things up, and would require there being two different Saint Ajoras several thousand years apart.

This discrepancy is often attributed by fans to a mislocalization in either XII or FFT, but after much time spent scouring the Japanese scripts across all releases, I don't actually think there's any mistranslations going on, I think the Ultimania Omega just made a mistake.

If the Ultimania is taken as writ, it makes the relevant FFXII lore entry the only one in the game that is presented non-diegetically, referring to events that occur after the game, & contradicts other lore in both FFT & XII that has stayed consistent across multiple versions.

On top of all that, in an interview with the Final Fantasy XII team at time of release they specifically stated it takes place AFTER Tactics https://www.gamespot.com/articles/tgs-06-final-fantasy-xii-qanda/1100-6158485/

So, in summary, Final Fantasy XII takes place roughly 800 years after Final Fantasy Tactics, give or take. And also, by extension, around 400 years after Vagrant Story.

With that out of the way, Final Fantasy XII also contains several other callbacks and continuity nods to Final Fantasy Tactics and Vagrant Story, and a surprising amount to the latter in particular.

Calling back to Final Fantasy Tactics, we get some more info on the Scions/Lucavi, stating that those of the Dark rebelled against the Occuria and their manipulation of the world's history, and were cast from grace for their troubles.

The Blood-Sin makes a return showing up during some spellcasting sequences, as well as appearing on the servant of one of the Lucavi during its summoning cinematic. Also from Vagrant Story, the Kingdom of Valendia returns as one of Final Fantasy XII's settings.

Several enemies also make explicit reference to Leá Monde, the Dark, and various miscellany from Vagrant Story and Final Fantasy Tactics in general, such as the Entite line of elementals, the Vagrant Soul, as well as some unique enemies that return from the prior title.

Additionally, two of the new Ivalice races created for this game, the reptilian Bangaa and the porcine Seeq, and aesthetically very similar to the Lizardmen and Orc tribes that populated ruined Leá Monde in Vagrant Story.

2007.05 - Final Fantasy Tactics: The War of the Lions [PlayStation Portable]

A remake of the original FFT released for the PlayStation Portable, Final Fantasy Tactics: The War of the Lions was released in May of 2007. An amazing upgrade, it featured an updated localization to be more in line with releases that have since come, redone cutscenes, and more.

Among that "and more" was some new side-content that connects to recent releases, both past and future. Luso Clemens of the upcoming Tactics A2 makes a guest appearance having been magicked into the past by the Gran Grimoire, as it is wont to do.

Another wayward travel in time is Balthier, from Final Fantasy XII, who has been transposed from the events of the upcoming Revenant Wings, and gets caught up in his ancestor Mustadio's adventures with Ramza & Co before ultimately being returned to his proper time and place.

2007.06 - Final Fantasy XII: Revenant Wings [Nintendo DS]

Releasing in June of 2007 for the Nintendo DS, Final Fantasy XII: Revenant Wings is explicitly set a year after the events of Final Fantasy XII, featuring Vaan, Penelo, Balthier, and Fran as an innocuous sky pirate treasure hunt turns into something more.

Exploring the Glabados Ruins (further supporting XII's time placement), they find an ancient airship that takes them to the lost Sky Continent of Lemurés, & learn that the Aegyl (winged folk akin to those from the Ogre games) were not lost to the Cataclysm as previously thought.

Incidentally, the Glabados Ruins are where Balthier was spirited away to the past of The War of the Lions, from which he apparently brought back the sacred Zodiac Stones, as they can be seen sitting in the corner of the upper screen map table during missions.

Vaan's group are not the only sky pirates journeying to Lemurés, as others have been hired by the mysterious Judge of Wings to assault the continent and the Aegyl who live on it, seeking to plunder their crystal reserves and massive auralith crystals.

These massive auraliths are what the ancient Occuria carved the mythic Zodiac Stones and other auracite from, and serve as the power source that keeps the massive continent suspended in the clouds and allow the Aegyl to survive in the ruins of their lost civilization.

The party eventually learn that the Judge of Wings is Mydia, a mixed-race vierra descended from the aegyl Feolthanos, who has used the power of the auraliths to drain the souls of the other aegyl to become immortal after rebelling against the Occuria thousands of years ago.

After freeing Mydia from her ancestor's control, it is revealed that Feolthanos was driven to this madness by a curse, punishment for using the auraliths to raise the continent of Lemurés to the skies in order to save his people from the Cataclysm against the Occuria's wishes.

After his defeat, the continent begins to break up and fall back to the lands below, and the sky pirates evacuate the survivors while they decide to regroup and make a new life amongst the races of the surface.

This is a pretty straightforward sequel to FFXII, but contains some surprising callbacks to Final Fantasy Tactics, with the Glabados Ruins and the Zodiac Stones; as well as the Ogre games, with an entire game's plot revolving around what happened to the winged folk race.

2007.10 - Final Fantasy Tactics A2: Grimoire of the Rift [Nintendo DS]

A follow-up to the handheld team's 2001 release Tactics Advance, Final Fantasy Tactics A2: Grimoire of the Rift was released for the Nintendo DS in October of 2007 (truly a big year for Ivalice releases) and stars Luso Clemens, who had made an preview appearance in WotL.

On the eve of summer break, Luso is forced to serve detention helping in the school library. Finding the Gran Grimoire & writing his name in it as a prank, Luso is spirited into the distant past of Ivalice, where he is rescued from a monster by the adventurer clan Gully.

Luso explains his circumstances to their leader Cid, who vows to return Luso to his home; Luso also offers to help the Clan during quests. During their time taking on quests, Luso meets the human thief Adelle & the moogle minstrel Hurdy, and the trio become fast friends.

Eventually, Luso is introduced to the mage Lezaford, who reveals that the grimoire Luso still carries can take him back to his world, but that Luso will need to figure out how on his own.

Going on a journey to discover more, Clan Gully faces off against the criminal group Khamja & the hand of a monster which emerges from a mysterious portal. During the skirmish, Khamja member Illua spies Luso's tome and attacks it, but it deflects her attempt & drives her off.

Lezaford then identifies the Gran Grimoire as the "Grimoire of the Rift", having the power to, among other things, open portals across time and space. It is consequently highly sought after in magic circles and also considered highly dangerous.

The monstrous hand Clan Gully fought off belongs to a beast called the Neukhia, which could be summoned into Ivalice using the Grimoire. Illua wishes to harness powers beyond the portals for personal reasons and seeks the Grimoire's destruction.

After much adventuring, during a final confrontation with Illua, a portal is opened and the Neukhia fully emerges, killing Illua before attacking the party. Luso's party defeats the Neukhia, and feels able to go home after bidding farewell to Clan Gully.

Arriving back in the library, Luso encounters the school librarian - one Mr. Mewt Randell, last seen in Final Fantasy Tactics Advance. Believing Luso's tale, Randell allows Luso to go home to enjoy the summer, while back in the past his friends continue on their adventures.

Aside from Mewt, other returning characters from the series include Vaan and Penelo, looking a bit older & having established themselves as seasoned sky pirates in the "ensuing years" since the events of Final Fantasy XII. Also showing up is Hurdy's older brother Montblanc.

2010.11 - Tactics Ogre: Wheel of Fate [PlayStation Portable]

In the vein of The War of the Lions, Tactics Ogre: Wheel of Fate is an enhanced & expanded remake of Let Us Cling Together released for the PlayStation Portable in October of 2007. Like WotL, it features enhanced graphics, a refined localization, and new content.

Amongst the new content, which includes many new characters and missions, are some sly references that help tie the game to Final Fantasy Tactics and Ivalice, both revolving around the popular character of Count Cidolfus "Thunder God" Orlandeau, Orran Durai's step-father.

A similarly powerful character in Tactics Ogre, Arycelle Dania's, has a new moniker in Wheel of Fate, "Thunder Maiden", which evocative of Cid's title in The War of the Lions, though this isn't a continuity item and more of a nod.

More concrete though is that it is now mentioned in Warren's character reports that Leundar Balbatos's puppet lord and figurehead leader of the Galgastani hails from the Orlandeau family, cementing him as part of Cidolfus' bloodline and distant relative of Orran and Arazlam.

Another fun non-continuity nod is the entirely new character of Ravness Loxaerion of the Knights of Almorica, who is based on Agrias Oaks from Final Fantasy Tactics. Their character sprites are nearly identical.

2012.11 - Crimson Shroud [Nintendo 3DS]

Despite briefly returning to work with Square on Wheel of Fate, Matsuno would go on to make his next title at Level-5 as part of their Guild series of smaller game releases. This materialized in the form of Crimson Shroud, released for the Nintendo 3DS in November of 2012.

The plot of Crimson Shroud centers around the Chaser Giauque (pronounced "Jack") and his party being dispatched by an Earl to the ruins of the Sun-Gilt Palace of the Rahab to track down a fugitive in possession of The Defense of Heresy, a manuscript banned by the Church.

The wider setting of the game is very much in line with past titles, detailing that there was a time in the distant past when magic disappeared from the world, but then returned anew by way of the Gifts, relics granted to humanity by the gods.

The Gifts grant magic to the world, and humanity gradually learned to copy them, and copy the copies, and so on, to the point that magic is once again somewhat common-place, if not as powerful as the abilities granted by the genuine Gifts themselves.

The Defense of Heresy was written some three hundred years back and argued, convincingly, that the gifts were sent by the Devil, not God. The author was executed, and the manuscript expunged, save for a single copy, which has now been absconded with to the Palace of Rahab.

The Palace of Rahab in particular, due to it supposedly being the location of The Crimson Shroud, the original and most powerful Gift. Thus, Giauque has been tasked with not only recovering the manuscript, but ascertaining whether the Shroud is indeed within.

While not immediately apparent that this is related to Matsuno's shared universe, there ARE some things here and there, like a shared concept of The Dark and the history of the loss and resurgence of magic jiving with accounts of the Cataclysm from Final Fantasy Tactics.

But wait, there's more! In 2020 Matsuno replied to a fan on twitter by tweeting out some early concepts for the never-materialized Vagrant Story 2, which coincidentally line up with a lot of stuff from Crimson Shroud. https://twitter.com/hiansphere/status/1252981698268028930

The plot of Vagrant Story 2 would have centered around the Tracker "Jack", revealed to be Callo's son, as he is sent on a mission by the now grown Duke Joshua Bardorba to track down some unspecified person or relic. Pretty similar to what we wound up with, yeh?

Unfortunately, Crimson Shroud marks the thus far final standalone release in the series, and is soon to become increasingly harder to play due to the 3DS eshop shutting down next year. A physical release as part of the Guild01 collection is only in Japanese as well.

In Closing…

And yeah, that's about it. That's the (million or so) tweets. Not really going to get into Final Fantasy XIV stuff here. It's fun, but its connections are self-evident and also explicitly its own continuity for the most part so not really relevant to this treatise.

I hope this deeper dive serves as a good summary of the Ogre/Ivalice releases as well as serving as an educational guide on how all these titles link together that can be cross-referenced with my previous timeline thread. https://twitter.com/IMGibbon/status/1488962184092606472

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gureishi · 2 years

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Zen X Lea

For @im-the-mystic-messenger’s holiday gift exchange. I screamed when I saw my match, because I love Lea more than life itself. I’m always honored to enter into the sweet world of my beautiful friend and her lovely man. Merry early Christmas, @quirky-and-kind, my darling. Thank you dear, brilliant Lodi for putting together this beautiful event!

It’s just dark enough outside to see lights going on in the windows of the apartment building across the street. There’s a flurry of snow piled high against the bedroom window; Zen lays a hand on the glass and is delighted to find that it’s icy and crisp. He loves the way the air outside seems to sing for him: it’s the feeling of anticipation he always associates with holidays.

This year is different, though—entirely unlike any of his previous lonely, longing winters.

Zen pushes open the bedroom door and crosses to the main room on light feet, expecting to find Lea perched on the couch—probably checking the weather or how long it’ll take for them to get where they’re going or something else he never remembers to do. It’s always her who’s ready first.

But no: Lea sits in the middle of the living room floor, skirt pooling around her in a puddle of gauze, half-empty rolls of wrapping paper and bows scattered across her lap. She’s focused, gaze trained on the box in her hands, perfect fingers making a neat crease in the shiny wrapping paper.

“Not ready yet, angel?” Zen stands in the doorway and Lea looks up, pretty eyes widening. After all this time, he should be used to the way she looks at him—but heat still pools in the pit of his stomach whenever she smiles.

“You look perfect,” she tells him. He tosses his hair and positions himself under the brightest part of the golden overhead light, needing to linger a moment longer in the warmth of her appreciation. Once upon a time, he made himself beautiful because it was the only way he knew how to survive; now, he finds that the world’s admiration means less and less to him every day.

If Lea looks at him with love, the stars shine brighter. Her affection means more than any fantasy of fame and fortune.

She’s still watching him. Her eyes sparkle.

“You look like a knight in shining armor,” she says. “As always.” She sets down the gift—perfectly-wrapped—and beams at him.

“A Christmas knight?” Zen goes to her, pulling a cushion from the couch and sinking to the floor by her side. There’s a pile of presents wrapped in pink paper next to her, a glittering bow placed on the very top of each one.

Lea laughs. “What’s the difference between a Christmas knight and a regular one?”

Zen leans in to brush her shoulder with his lips and she shivers almost imperceptibly, just like he hoped she would.

“A Christmas knight helps his princess prepare presents for her loyal subjects,” he croons, lifting the bag of bows. Lea arches her eyebrows—and she’d never say you aren’t helping, but the expression gives her away. Zen grins and dips his head to kiss both of her wrists. “What, this isn’t helpful?”

Lea touches his cheek. She’s so gentle it makes his heart ache.

“You’re always helpful, darling.” She turns her gaze back to the unwrapped gifts at her side—two left now—and Zen wraps both arms around her waist, tugging her flush against his body.

“Have I told you yet how beautiful you look, cherub?” he whispers. She shivers again and he parts her hair to kiss the back of her neck. “So pretty I almost don’t want to let you leave this house.”

Zen knows how to stir her imagination—he’s an expert. He expects her to twist in his arms—to tilt her face so she’s looking in his eyes—to lay a hand on his chest and call him lovely.

But Lea doesn’t turn. She’s reaching forward, rolling out wrapping paper with swift, steady gestures—and for the first time, Zen notices her energy is unsteady.

He doesn’t know how he missed it till now.

“Princess,” he says—slowly, not sure where he’s headed. “Look at me?” “Just a minute,” she mutters—oh, and it’s there in her voice too: a sense of unease, or a hint of hurry. “Let me finish first.”

Zen knows her better than the beating of his heart—feels all his own insecurities and hesitations when he holds her close.

“Lea,” he says—her name instead of a term of endearment, so she knows he’s serious. “Please?”

She goes stiff for a split second and then she’s spinning in his arms; he lifts the fluid fabric of her skirt so her legs are draped across his thighs. It’s hard to see straight when she’s in his lap like this: small and delicate and sweet and soft. He kisses the tip of her nose.

“You’re glad we’re getting together with everyone tonight,” he says, pulling a single curl from her hair and coiling it round his fingertip. “You want to go, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” She sounds serious, and he knows she means it: celebrating with their found family means at least as much to her as it does to him.

But the apartment smells like cinnamon and cloves and there’s snow on the roof and Lea is wrapping gifts with a fervor Zen recognizes. He has adored her ardent desire to make people feel loved since the first day he met her—now, though, he sees how easy it is for her to lose herself in her own altruism.

“You do everything for everyone,” he whispers, taking the half-wrapped gift from her fingers, lifting her hand to his lips. “Let me do everything for you.”

Lea stares up at him, and he finds her so hopelessly kissable he can hardly contain himself.

“I like giving people gifts,” she says. He tilts her chin up and she lets him, melting into his touch like just-fallen snow.

Zen already knows that Lea would do anything for the people she loves—that she sees the holidays as another excuse to make everyone smile.

For him, holidays are all about her.

“Of course you do, darling girl.” He traces her jaw with a finger and she goes pink (oh, he hopes that even after an eternity, she’ll keep on blushing for him). “You’re an angel, and I’m just a selfish man who loves you.”

“What’s so selfish about you?” she asks (though he’s sure she already knows).

“Because you want to wrap everyone’s gifts up neatly and I just want you to kiss me.” It’s a lie, and it’s also the truth—he wants to be kissed by her every bit as much as he always does; he needs her to hold him instead of working to make the world feel good.

“If I’m kissing you,” she murmurs, giggling, “who will wrap the rest of these gifts?”

Zen tosses his hair and beams down at her.

“Aha,” he crows, delighted. “Didn’t I tell you that I’m the Christmas knight?”

Lea lifts her pretty eyebrows again, and Zen is glad to see her teasing him rather than protesting.

“Will you do a good job?” she asks, laughing a little at his insistence. He is already adjusting her in his lap, reaching around her small body to lift the sheet of wrapping paper she’s already cut from the roll.

“Don’t I always?” Zen sets the box in the center of the wrapping paper and feels Lea watching his hands. He knows it’s important for her that it’s perfect—that everything’s just right—that she’s filled the universe with as much warmth as she can muster.

The only person Zen needs to see smiling is the angel perched delicately on his lap. He’ll make her sit back and be held if it’s the death of him.

And it’s a sort of death, having her lips on his skin. She twists in his arms and covers his jaw in feather-light kisses, just like he asked her to. He wonders if she sees the way she makes his hands shake.

“How am I doing, princess?” He tapes the paper closed and sets one of the sparkly silver bows on top. Lea pauses to admire his handiwork, and then her arms are around his neck.

“Beautiful,” she whispers in his ear, “just like you.”

Zen used to dream of Christmas.

When he was alone, he’d imagine holding hands in a snowstorm and sharing a single scarf, cuddling under thick blankets when it’s cold and dancing beside a glittering tree. But Lea wasn’t like him in this way: she didn’t wait all year for twinkling lights and snowflakes on her tongue. The holidays didn’t remind her of bodies pressed together and laughter that shimmers in the air long after it’s stopped making a sound.

None of Zen’s fantasies matter to him so much as the small, warm person he holds in his arms. He could spend Christmas anywhere in the world as long as she’s with him—wouldn’t change a second of his long lonely life, because all the darkness has led him to Lea.

“You’ve changed everything,” he says, so soft he isn’t sure she can hear. But she hears (she always does), and she takes his face in both of her hands, gazing at him with the brightness of someone who knows how fervently she’s loved.

She is the strongest person Zen has ever known, but even strong princesses need a knight to remind them they matter the most.

“Thanks for holding me,” she says, which really means thank you for making me the center of your world.

Zen smiles: cinnamon eyes, tinsel heart.

“No, angel,” he whispers, holder her closer. “Thank you for letting me.”

It’s not the holiday making the air outside shimmer with promise. It’s her (it’s always been her).

#mystic messenger #zen #cmc lea #zen x lea #mystic messenger gift exchange #gift writing #i love lea ❤️❤️❤️

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catiuapavel · 1 year

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A Tactics Ogre timeline that I particularly enjoy is Chaos route CH2 > Neutral Route CH3 > Kill Catiua in Barnicia > Gilbert Lord ending

Denam’s behaviour on Neutral route fuels Catiua’s insecurities. Of course she’s revolted he’d let the Duke put a bounty on his friend’s head and leaves her to defend him all alone. But above all, it confirms her in her own fear she could be the next one he abandons.

Neutral route has Denam facing Oz in Boed Fortress and he learns the truth behind his father’s capture, that he lives and is thus given the opportunity to save him. But instead, he chooses to obey the Duke’s orders and play the role he’s given over his family.

Eventually all this is underlined by Ozma who values family above all else and recognizes Denam as a man who has failed his.

Denam sees Catiua in the company of the Dark Knights as soon as the end of Chapter 3 and is repeatedly told she isn’t coerced. Still throughout Chapter 4, he campaigns to rescue her from the Dark Knights and uses her to rally others behind him.

Obviously Denam has a perfectly good reason for this (booting Lodis out of Valeria) but on an interpersonal level, he still seeks to use her (and honestly, she’s absolutely right to think so in Barnicia). After 3 chapters of ignoring his sister’s counsel and after he’s let her go with little concern as to where she might be, his renewed interest in her is enough to make you pause and reflect on his flaws.

Eventually he even hears it confirmed from Catiua’s herself but it hardly matters to him.

Denam kills Catiua himself and shifts the blame of her murder onto the Dark Knights. With this, he strikes a final blow to the Dark Knight’s influence in Valeria. Even after she’s dead, she serves as political tool for him.

Denam’s reward for this is a position as leader he realizes he doesn’t want and a lifetime of grief and guilt with the knowledge he completely failed his family (thanks to the Gilbert’s ending which allows him to live at all).

Finally, with Lodis’ threat of an imminent invasion, he might just be forced to utilize the lie of Catiua’s death at the hands of Lodissian knights all over again and thus is bound to rekindle his own guilt. And this is why I think the combination of killing her and having this ending is fantastically miserable, even more so after a Neutral route playthrough!

#lou plays tactics ogre #tactics ogre #this is why i waited for my neutral playthrough to do all this. my little treat.#long post sorryu

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srbachchan · 3 years

Text

DAY 4659

Jalsa, Mumbai Dec 1/2, 2020 Mon/Tue 1:11 AM

There is an excess in our worlds ever .. and the world that needs excess is in decimation .. the need then to give and be the sight of joy and fulfilment of the other is divinity ..

.. that little boy by the darkness of the station, tired and exhausted after his search and beg for food , sits by the railings in hungered stupor .. and when shaken up and given a packet of food .. does not look up at the giver .. does not acknowledge the source of the give .. but breaks into a run in a direction so fast away from the giver .. to give .. to give the food packet to his brother, who lies similarly by the platform, starved of hunger ..

.. a moment that occurred several years ago as I passed by the Dadar station late at night .. and is one that haunts and troubles me ..

.. I can never forget the look and frenzy in the eyes of the receiver, as he clutches the food packet and departs at the speed of knots as though he had achieved ‘nirvan’ ..

.. i pulled down the window of the car and at the turn of an over bridge on way to work, drew out some of my clothing that I was disposing and beckoned the old lady by the waste dump, to come over .. her hesitant walk, her apprehensive look .. what is he calling me for .. and then that smile on her face as she holds on to the clothing I release for her ..

.. no actor in the entire brilliant universe shall ever be able to bring on that expression - from Brando to Dilip Kumar - that filled that withered face of the aged lady .. her own clothing in tatters , embracing the gift as though it was the end of the world !!!

.. the forlorn demeanour of the young wife that has just lost her husband and only bread earner, in the front line , defending us all from the intruder , has no expression at all .. she walks up in an oblivion to receive what I can give to her for her momentary sustainability, her new born child in her arms .. the child that shall never know who his father was and what it means to have one ..

.. there is far too much grief in the World we live in .. and far too many that exist in the most arduous conditions and circumstances ..

.. yes I shall give in momento to the Ef of what I shall not be using or is in excess .. but if the excess can be the more for another , that is where I would want to give ..

.. the pain and horror of poverty is an unbearable idiom :

‘lodi da takka de , rabh tennu bachcha de’ ..

the chant from them that come seeking gratis on the festive occasion of ‘lodi’ ..

‘give me a few pennies for Lodi, may the Lord give you a child ..!’ she laments before you ..

.. the child for her is the ultimate gift of the Almighty .. her own hungry and asleep child in her arms unknowing of what the Mother does for him or her sustenance ..

.. the irony of life is beyond the pain of poverty .. !!!

Amitabh Bachchan

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spvce-cowboy · 3 years

Note

vroom vroom 😉

so uh jess and i have been IN TALKS about racer!din and while i am still bouncing some ideas around i can't STOP thinking abt it so here's what i've got so far hehe

Din Djarin is an adrenaline junkie, first and foremost. a foster kid born and raised in remote California, he started fixing up his uncle's old cars and motorcycles at the age of fourteen. it was encouraged, at first, because it gave din something to do with his hands. it didn't take long for him to find a gang of kids that was just as bored and angry as he was. that's when he started drag racing with the weathered Ducati that was collecting rust in the garage.

it was about speed. it was about the scream of the engine beneath him as they ripped through the pitch-black desert, nothing but sand and the interstate beneath them. most of all, it was about hurling himself into something dark and furious with no promises to return.

things got bad when that same group of kids started robbing places--well, it got bad because they were good at it. like, really good. it offered the same kind of release, in a way. they spent most of the money on pills and booze, the rest on getting more parts. better bikes. they made promises to each other. auditioning at the racetrack in Lodi. going professional. making it to the big leagues: texas--no, din insisted, europe. where the real money was.

they were gonna get good, and then they were gonna get the fuck out.

that lasted all of six months. Din got arrested for a robbery gone wrong. someone got hurt. bad. he and his friends faces were plastered on every wanted list in a fifty mile radius because of a missed CCTV camera. it was pretty much a given that his life was over until a distant friend of his adoptive family, a mysteriously wealthy man by the name of Mr. Karga, paid his bail.

that same man was waiting for Din the morning he stepped out of his holding cell, standing in front of a Ferrari that stops Din in his tracks.

i've seen your tapes, he tells him, flashing a video of Din making a particularly harrowing maneuver that went semi-viral a few weeks previous. i'm gonna make you into a fucking star, kid.

Din accepted, reluctantly, on two conditions:

no teams, i go solo. and no one sees my face.

seven years later, Din Djarin is a ghost-like figure on the motocross scene. he's known for his ruthlessness on the circuit, only to disappear as soon as the race is over. Karga has capitalized on his insistence of anonymity to a near aggravating extent, but at least Din can appreciate being able to slip off the helmet and the suit and evaporate into the crowd.

Din is in Perth, Australia for the Grand Prix. after one of his practice sessions, he takes his personal bike--a beloved Ducati scrambler, affectionately nicknamed The Crest--to a diner as far away from the masses of fans and paparazzi as possible.

there, he orders a cup of black coffee. he doesn't look up from his phone as he does. but when the waitress makes a polite attempt at small-talk, he looks up. the waitress has kind eyes and a near uncontainable laugh. she's so beautiful that he forgets what she just asked.

you throw him a lop-sided grin as you scribble down his order. and then you introduce yourself.

if you all have any ideas/prompts/questions please please please send them my way <33 need to jog my brain a little bit and what better way than with some modern mando au

#din djarin x reader #racer!din #modern!din #din djarin #mando au

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mulderist · 3 years

Text

Wicked Game

Previous chapter || Read on A03 || tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 8

Details were scattered but I remember Skinner ushered me away from the crime scene. I argued that it was my investigation, he said that there was nothing more I needed to do. I stumbled towards the elevator and saw Byers exit, holding his medical satchel. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I saw him mouth the words: you look terrible. The room felt like it was spinning in slow motion, like the sensation you get when you’re falling in a dream. Delirium had set in. Too bad my one vice was alcohol otherwise I’d swallow an upper to get myself back on course; my liver could hate me later. I rode the elevator down and managed to get out to the curb. I hailed a cab since I couldn’t remember if I drove myself. By the grace of God, and an honest cabbie, I made it home alive.

The sleeping pill did a mediocre job; I felt groggy and sore, hungover minus the whiskey. I rolled over and squinted at the alarm clock. About twelve hours had passed since I left two dead bodies in the precinct interrogation rooms. Afternoon sunlight radiated through my window and I knew I had to get the day started. I found a small bit of food in my pantry to calm my angry stomach and some water straight from the tap to rehydrate. My clothes should probably be tossed in the incinerator but then I would be down one dress shirt. I stripped and stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as I could stand. It sputtered at first but soon rushed against my chest. I scrubbed my hair and switched to the soap, finally feeling clean for the first time in two days. A layer of grime swirled down the drain. I stood firmly under the spray and let it beat mercilessly against my upper back and shoulders. Hands braced the shower wall and my eyes closed heavy.

Scalding water and steam tried to purify me. I stayed under until the temperature cooled. A deep exhale and I cut the tap, hearing the ancient pipes shudder. I pushed the curtain aside and grabbed the towel from the hook, drying off then wrapping it tightly around my waist. I wiped away the thin layer of fog on the small medicine cabinet mirror above the sink. My reflection was certainly worse for wear. Bruises were now that off-shade of yellow and dark circles carved unappealing lines under my eyes. The shaving foam canister and my straight razor looked lonely on the shelf. I walked into the bedroom and pulled open the dresser drawer to retrieve a pair of boxer shorts and an undershirt. I tossed the towel onto the bed and as I dressed the phone rang from the bedside table.

“This is Mulder,” I answered, reaching for the discarded towel.

“It’s Frohike,” he cleared his throat, “I was trying to reach you earlier but there was no answer.”

“Sorry about that. These sleeping pills pack a wallop.” My voice sounded ragged, like I had swallowed gravel.

“Remind me to get the brand name,” Frohike said. I maneuvered the phone and dried my hair,

“I hope you’re calling with some good news.”

“Good is a relative term, my friend. Byers and Langley did a fine job on Mr. Lodi’s autopsy and came to the conclusion that cyanide was the poison of choice.”

“A cyanide capsule? He did himself in?”

“The poison was definitely ingested but not from a broken capsule, we didn’t find any residue. He might have had something to eat or drink that was laced with it.”

I thought for a moment.

“The water cup. There was an empty cup on the floor in the room when I walked in.”

“There’s those fine detective skills.” Frohike jabbed.

“Sharp as a tack. Although I sure as hell didn’t suspect a mole in the precinct.”

“An inside job. The plot thickens.” His intrigue was so palpable I could taste it through the phone.

“This all has to tie back to Spender somehow,” I began, “Someone higher up was steamed that we were getting too close to solving this case and took out our suspects. There are more pens in the inkwell than I thought.” I picked up the phone and walked to sit on the bed, “Could you find any prints?”

“The doorknob had a myriad including yours and Captain Skinner’s but nothing we could go on. And the only prints on the paper cup belonged to Lodi. Our culprit must have used gloves.”

“He most likely added the poison while at the water cooler. Essentially slipped him a killer mickey,” I sighed heavily, “Did you get to work on Theo?”

“Getting ready to sharpen my scalpel, though I’m sure to find much of the same as we did on contestant number one. When I’m done I’ll send him and Lodi over to Washington General.”

“Alright. I’ll finish up here then hit the precinct.” I hung up and left the phone on the bed then returned to the bathroom sink. My hand hit the faucet right as a sharp loud knock hit my front door. I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. I really wanted to ignore it but they were persistent. Instinct told me to grab my Browning from the bedside table. I checked the safety and cautiously approached the rapping at my door. To my surprise there was a petite figure in a white uniform on the other side of the peephole. I flipped the lock but kept the chain intact.

“What are you doing here?” I asked through the crack in the door.

“Something happened,” Scully said tentatively and leaned closer, “May we talk inside?” I looked down the hall and closed the door to undo the chain then gently ushered her in. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and quickly looked away as I placed my weapon on a nearby table.

“Scully, what happened?” I questioned, trying to think of what possible reason she had to come to my apartment. It felt different seeing her in her nurse’s uniform and not being a patient. The standard crisp white dress with sharp collar, matching nylons, and patent shoes were a polar opposite to the flattering outfit the last time we met. I then felt her eyes search me and I straightened up.

“Mulder, would you mind getting dressed first?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. I glanced down then nodded and went to the bedroom. Personally I never really bothered with modesty.

“You talk, I’ll listen,” I called as I found a pair of trousers. The sound of her heels soon echoed on the hardwood floor and she hovered near the doorway, careful but curious.

“A body came in last night that washed up near one of the marinas on the Washington Channel. The pathologist was short-handed and I was made conveniently available to assist on the autopsy.”

“Is that out of the ordinary?” I asked as I tucked in my shirt and zipped up.

“The body or the task I was given?” she playfully retorted.

I chuckled. This one is razor sharp.

“I only ask because I thought you worked in the emergency room.”

“My training is versatile,” she countered, inching a little more into my bedroom. “Sometimes I’m pulled in other directions if there’s a need. Also it’s a nice opportunity to learn.”

There was an underlying tone in her voice that she wanted to do more than her position allowed. I could picture her taking charge during the war; delegating to fellow nurses, keeping a cool head, spreading herself thin to help whenever and wherever she could. But fate can give with one hand and take with the other. After the men returned home, a lot of good women were forced out of those opportunities. My sister went through something similar after pulling swing shifts at a shipyard in Boston. So I suppose I’m a little biased.

“Anything strange about the stiff?” I asked, getting my train of thought back on the rails.

“From the license in his wallet we found he drove a cab. I’m surprised you didn’t get a call about it.”

“Honey, thanks to some Grade A sleeping pills I didn’t hear that phone ring until about an hour ago.”

Scully shook her head and continued,

“Well, this poor cabbie was stabbed repeatedly.”

“Could have been a robbery gone wrong,” I offered as I pulled on my socks and shoes, “Was there still cash in the wallet?” She considered the question.

“I can’t remember, I was taking notes on the condition of the body. There were about six deep stab wounds from a medium blade. Standard bloating and decomposition from blood loss and being in the water for a few hours. Certainly looked like a murder to me.”

“Do you mind if I shave?” I asked while pointing towards the bathroom. She raised an eyebrow at my strange interjection. Frankly I was trying to lighten the mood a little, keep her at ease while she recounted events.

“Go right ahead,” her head tilted slightly, “you certainly could use it.” Scully tacked that on as she coyly rubbed her upper arm.

I offered a smirk then turned on the faucet and lathered up. She was within eyeshot, watching and waiting to continue..

“Tell me what happened next.”

“The pathologist and I completed the autopsy and as I left the morgue I was confronted by someone. He asked my name but didn’t give me his. I waited for him to show me an ID or badge but he never did.”

Scully paused and I turned my head to see she had boldly entered the room and took a seat on my bed. I could tell from where I was standing her demeanor changed, her brow furrowed. My focus turned for a moment back to the mirror so as not to slice open my upper lip.

“Scully?” I prompted after a precision scrape.

“Yes...sorry. The man asked if I knew you.”

“What did you tell him?” I asked as I finished an area under my chin.

“I played dumb of course.”

“Smart girl.” I said to myself before splashing water on fresh skin.

“Apparently that was the wrong answer because he grabbed me by the arm and pushed me into the first open room.”

I stepped out of the bathroom, suddenly taking great interest in busting this assailant’s kneecaps when I found him.

“I was warned,” Scully continued, lacing her fingers together, “he said to stay away from you, Mulder. He said that if I was stupid enough to talk to you then he and his associates would come after me for what I know.”

“Describe him,” I said harshly as I moved closer, feeling the remaining drops of water prickle against my cheeks. She closed her eyes for a moment. Those baby blues blinked open and she stared through me, developing a picture of him on the wall.

“Fairly young, maybe late twenties. Brown hair I think...he was wearing a hat. Dark eyes, sharp nose, oddly perfect teeth. His smile was broad and gave the impression of being pleasant, though I could tell he was a sleaze.”

My hand went to the back of my neck to damper the bubbling rage. I couldn’t blow my stack yet. What the hell game is he playing? How much did he know? I ran my hand over my face, collecting moisture then drying my palm on my hip. I needed to get her somewhere safe until I got some more answers. Her gaze met mine and I touched her shoulder.

“Did you drive here or take a bus?”

“The bus. I came straight from the hospital, why?”

“I want to make sure you weren’t followed. We’re going to the precinct.”

“Mulder, no.”

“Scully, listen to me.” But she was already on her feet and heading out of the room.

“I don’t need protection.” She stiffened as I followed her.

“Then why did you come here? You could have easily flipped open a telephone book and given me a ring instead.”

“I was frightened,” her voice broke and she tried to hide it, “In a moment of fear you don’t make wholly rational decisions, but I knew I could trust you.

I stepped closer, moving through a cloud of uncertainty and tenderly cupped her cheek. Scully closed her eyes and softened against my touch. A pang of guilt resonated in my chest, her exhale hummed through closed lips.

“Let’s go.” I said softly.

She nodded and I collected my weapon, my grey fedora, and showed her out. Once in the hallway we walked towards the elevator.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I began before pressing the button, “You are going to take the stairs down and head out the back door, through the alley, and over to the next block. Then take a cab to the 3rd District precinct…”

“Mulder…”

“Look, I don’t care if they know where I live. I don’t want them to follow you home.”

Her lips parted as she tried to say something but I kept going,

“Once you arrive at the 3rd, ask for Melvin Frohike and wait with him until I get there. He might have his colleagues in the lab but don’t worry they’re harmless.”

“What are you going to do?” She asked with concern.

“I’m going down the elevator and straight out the front door, hoping to catch a glimpse of this guy.”

I felt her fingers brush against my hand. To my surprise she lifted her heels and quickly planted a soft kiss on my lips. I held the back of her head and returned the favor.

“Be careful,” she said as we separated.

“You too, angel.” I replied and adjusted my hat with a wink.

#i wrote this #historical au #mulder pov #wip #xf fanfic #fanfiction #yup i'm still writing this thing

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