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#or they make shadow act like knuckles to make the dynamic appeal to them more instead of just. liking sonknux instead

shadamyheadcanons · 1 year

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I know this is a Shadamy blog but I would like to know your take on SonicxSally. I kind of like it but at the same time I don't think Sonic would like a long term relationship

Like many Shadamy fans, I adore Sonally. I haven’t read the vast majority of Archie, but I did watch SatAM as a kid, and my love for these two started there. She’s quick-witted and clever, so she keeps pace with him.

Thing is, though...I’m kind of in the same boat as you, haha. Sonic’s distaste for commitment and marriage thwarts most potential ships.

HOWEVER! There is a workaround.

I think Sonic can go well with someone else who either also doesn’t like commitment or has a lot going on in their life. While they’re busy with their responsibilities, he can run off on adventures and enjoy the freedom he needs. It’s not perfect, but I think it can work with the right dynamic. Sonic and Sally work because she’s independent and self-sufficient, and between her duties as a monarch and leader of the resistance, she’d need plenty of time to herself, too. She’s on his level and knows his needs. This isn’t just me bending the rules, either; there are apparently multiple potential future timelines in Archie where they wind up happily married with kids:

[Source]

I can’t *quite* buy him being in such a traditional role, but they seem happy. It’s a possibility.

Sonally isn’t the only ship that could work like this. I’ll always prefer Blaze with Silver, but with her being a busy princess and guardian from another dimension, I could see them having a casual off-and-on thing together. I see them as platonic myself, but I get the appeal. Knuckles works because he needs his alone time, too. He spends a ton of time in solitude on Angel Island. He wouldn’t need Sonic to be by his side every day. Rouge is flighty and loves her freedom just as much as Sonic does. I’m a big advocate for Sonouge; I explain why in-depth in this post. It’s a very underrated ship.

But the Sonic ship I like most of all, even outranking my childhood nostalgia for Sonally, is...Sonknuxouge? Knuxsonouge...? Idk what the proper term is, but just squish Sonic, Knuckles, and Rouge together. That’s my jam. I hardly ever polyship, but I love seeing these three together.

Knuxouge is already popular, and for good reason. Even Sonic ships it:

Wouldn’t surprise me if he gave them a nudge, and I’d argue that he’s flirted with both of them himself on occasion. He seems like he’d be up for polyamory anyway. Imagine if Knuckles and Rouge got together and she moved in with him on Angel Island, or at least spent a lot of time there. G.U.N. might even encourage this, as they’d have an agent up there keeping an eye on the Master Emerald.

Of course, they wouldn’t know that her loyalties would lie with Knuckles and his friends. Even she doesn’t trust G.U.N.:

With her being stationed on Angel Island, though, it could usher in a better alliance between Sonic & friends and G.U.N. With different leadership, G.U.N. could clean up their act and be on the right side of history more often. Hell, putting Rouge up there would make way for my headcanon that Amy could lead Team Dark someday.

They could have kids--Qkora’s designs are my favorite--because, uh...we’re short on echidnas. And I’ve always thought Knuckles would make a great dad.

Knuckles is pretty tied to the island, but I imagine Rouge would take trips down to the mainland for treasure hunting, checking on her casino, etc, and while she’s down there, she could pick up Sonic so he could visit the two of them.

It’d be kind of a long flight, but if she can carry Shadow and Omega’s combined weight of ~2800 pounds, she can handle Sonic’s 77 pounds.

He wouldn’t be as close as they are, but they’d all enjoy each other’s company, and he could help look after the kids sometimes. I can’t imagine Sonic ever being present enough to be a full-time dad, but he’s great with kids.

There’s no way Sega would ever go for polyamory, but I think it’s a fun idea.

tl;dr I love Sonally and I do think it could work, but it’s not his only option. That is, if we winds up with anyone at all. He could definitely stay single.

#Sonally #sonknuxouge #knuxsonouge #sonouge #knuxouge #sonaze #ask #anonymous #not a headcanon #i hope you guys like these essay-level replies #it's fun and all but a lot of work goes into these tbh #probably too much haha #Knuckles the Echidna #Rouge the Bat #Princess Sally Acorn

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prowerprojects · 8 months

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*nods* Yeah, it's fine if Tails likes stereotypical kids stuff, it's one of the fun [and funny] things about watching kid genius characters. (Can make planes but is the first to dive into a ball pit)

I think one thing I've noticed recently; not limited to him or this series, is converting everyone older than said character into parental figures. And it kinda results in making everyone act the same around them; in contrast to canon.

(Shadow treating Cream like a little sister/apprentice is a hc as old as time in fanon. Charmy canonically looks up to Shadow; whether the latter considers him annoying depends on the writer. Him and Tails however, has always been complicated that it's hard to get a concrete reading on their relationship, but it definitely wouldn't be similar to Tails' bond with Sonic, imo.)

Yeah! Actually, one Boom episode has this sideplot: there's a science fair at the village, and the winner gets to shadow Tails at his workshop. Tails is super excited about it because people aren't usually interested in what he does in Boom. A girl named Beth wins, but she's not actually interested in it either, and soon ditches Tails to go look at Knuckles either smashing stuff or throwing it really far, because she's a kid and it's cool. Tails is like "ok, I can turn it around, I'm gonna explain the physics of what Knuckles is doing". But soon he gets distracted and even ignores Beth when she actually tries to ask him how it works because he's also a kid and throwing/smashing stuff is cool. (Generally I find Boom did this balance between him acting like a kid and being a genius specifically really well)

I wonder how they're gonna go about it in the mainline series. It is one of the points of Tails's appeal as a character, but he's also had a whole arc in Frontiers about growing up and such. Honestly if I had one thing I could get from his characterization in the next games, it would be to make him a bit more upbeat and excitable. (I understand he's been going through some stuff recently). I like the way he's written in tmosth and I've been keeping an eye on the Sonic Channel stories, I think they both have a pretty good balance between his more upbeat traits and his insecurities that still pop up from time to time.

The parental figures thing... I guess I kinda get it. When you're a fan of the younger character, especially someone who had a hard life, you want to see them being taken care of. If you're a fan of the older character, you want to see them being soft or show how responsible they are.

I do enjoy that Tails and Shadow have a bit of a complicated relationship. I guess it's just that they're not very close so the way they treat each other depends on the situation, this is pretty interesting! (I mean a lot of Sonic characters probably aren't very close, but with these two we can actually see it in their dynamic rather than assume) (Tbh I don't really want them to get closer, I don't think everyone needs to be all buddy buddy with each other, I'd much rather see the development between the characters who are already supposed to be friends but don't actually interact much, like Tails, Knuckles and Amy)

#tails #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #project.txt #miles tails prower #tails the fox #project.ask

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sofibeth · 2 years

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I randomly share my Sonic Shipping preferences

Cause despite how predictable my OTPs its fun to talk bout dyanimcs and expose my shipping types lol.

OTPS:

Sonamy: top of the list, my ride and die pairing. Fun teasing dynamic both romantic and platonic sense, one of slow burn kind of relationship that really works for me. Have my specific tics for how they would act but I’m flexiable and cute fanart is cute. The one pairing that I feel Sonic can settle with while still staying true to his lifestyle.

Knuxouge: the funny back and forth tension one which I feel can go in many direction. It strange on the outset I feel they wouldn’t work long term but trying to see how they can is pretty fun. I feel its self explanatory for a cat thief type of pair its surpirsely wholesome.

Tailsmo: the one Tails pairing I will vibe with as I cry. Also only one in a canon that has good euongh screentime for us to grow attach too. (I dunno why Tails gets shipped alot in alternate canons) Some childhood biased since I wish Cosmo was better utilized than she was but I won’t deny their cute moments were one of the most mermorable parts of that anime. I’m also conflicted in I do want them to be happy but the tragic end in the anime and the angst is iconic euongh to not deny it. The idea of single dad Tails is good tho.

Whispangle: classic opposites attract pairing and I can take in either planotic or romantic. not much else to say.

The Fun ones:

Sonknux: The superior male pairing for Sonic. Don’t share this one as much on main since I do see it as a bromance first and foremost but I think bout any other day. The chocolate to my Sonamy’s vanilla in having silmilar fun dynamic vibes and Sonic bring Knuckles out of his shell. Shame not alot more serious art of this one but Sonic Movie 2 helped in the cute fanart department.

Sonaze: Alot this comes from teenage nostagia since i was really into this pairing as a young teen. Nowadays I lean more torwards platonic with the pair but I will still enjoy the occassionial cute fanart. The fighting equals and badass teamup is the appeal for me as well as Sonic Rush being my first sonic game. Can be jarring if art is lovey doey cause I don’t see them like that at all.

Sallicole: Putting this one here as special mention cause I do enjoy them even if its now in a dead canon. (add Buntonie around same I guess) The Stargazing and Spark of Life storyline is mermorable and what makes them stick for me and I think I do slightly prefer them over Whispangle at times. Funny how they work so much in a smaller timespan compare the many years they keep trying to make Sonally work.

Sliaze: This one unfortunatly falls down the hardest when the game that somewhat establishes a bond is quickly retconned. Aside from the whole “hey we’re from different times let’s bond” the garden story from IDW annual like the only other time I feel something. More so this paring is fueled by just pairing cause 06 was a thing but nevertheless I won’t deny the cute fanart and fan interpretations.

Stobotnik: this pairing I don’t search for really but something wrong with you if your not “there is no heterosexual explationation for this”. I find it funny how the staregg ships dies as soon as Agent Stone got more traction.

Somina: Putting this rarepair one out of spite cause as OC-ness at it is to make a love interest with the same power as Sonic it had chemistry potiential. Mina kinda a fave for him and the idea of Sonic with a popstar I feel can vibe with him alot. Just a shame this was just made for a love triangle for Sonally and Mina was quickly discarded and put with an asshole boyfriend.

Shadamy: Do enjoy the classic bubbly girl and jerk with a heart of gold type for this one and SA2 was a good foundation if you wanna go that route. A bit soiled thanks to stupid love triangles and sonic mischaracterization in early years while not really vibing for shadow charactization is most of these fanarts. Still I can enjoy it once and awhile.

Sonadow: this one barely made this tier as I can vibe with it on a SPECIFIC type of intepretation. I like it when its not as lovey doey and Shadow is alot more subtle in his affections, I can appreciate that. Unfortunately this one been spoils for me with overexposure and popular interpretation I don’t jive with. A point of feeling apathy over a popular ship 90% of the time.

usually neutral but have thoughts:

Vectilla: Sometimes can fall into the fun tier. the crush is cute and its nice for a good adult relationship in this series. Go back and forth whether if it can even work in long run but I dont have as strong feelings to care as much.

Blazamy: I nearly forgot to put this one here which I feel disquailfies it from fun tier but I do like the Madoka and Homura asetheic in the fanart. The female pairing I would vibe with but more of a fluff over substance ship.

Vecispo: I can see why but I’m more in planoic life partners vibe, I do enjoy the two dads ans a kid jokes tho.

Silvamy: only Plantonic for me, the shippers seen nice tho.

Sonally: too much pro and cons revolving around this one that just shrug. I can understand the appeal of the dynamic but satam and espcially Archie nonsense really test you if you actually enjoy it. Uilmately agree with not liking the idea of Sally anchoring Sonic down so I just stick with friends. Can enjoy it if I’m in the mood sometimes tho.

Shadouge: remembering enjoying this one when I was younger but doesn’t have the nostagic power like Sonaze to make me care as much. shippers are chill tho.

Tailsream: funny thing is I feel I can think of a dynamic that may work for them, but lack of canon interaction and not finding a good fanon interpretation makes this a boring pair the spares ship.

Crack

Surgamy: this should never work in canon but the “steal yo girl” energy from this ship that I accept one guilty pleasure.

#sonic shippping #sonic the hedgehog #not tagging all ship #I just wrote what popped up in my mind so this is just kinda semi serious semi for kicks

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xhanisai · 6 years

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In terms of the way I portray Sonic and Friends in Project Jinsei.

Yo! I have been getting comments and praises here and there from all over the place for how well I’ve been characterising Sonic and friends in my manga, especially the bond between Sonic and Amy and I just wanna say, as much as I’m grateful for it, the main person you should be praising is @cutegirlmayra ! This is because not only has she been my inspiration since I was like 13, she’s helped me out a lot and she is a master in characterising to the brim~!

Before, I used to portray the characters differently; I had Amy quite mellow, Sonic open way more than he should with his thoughts and words, Shadow way too overprotective over Amy cos of this sibling like head-canon I came up with and Silver as the goof.

After doing some research on both the English and Japanese personas of the characters and their dialogues, reading lots and lots of fan-fiction (Especially yours Mayra pffft, still do today >:D) for inspiration and even skimming through fan-comics, I’ve found my perfect portrayal for Sonic and Co.

Now, I portray Sonic closer to his video game counterpart (Mainly the Storybook series and Unleashed personas because the other games’ take on Sonic’s personality is dry as fuck). I make him slightly sweeter when it comes to cheering up his friend, sometimes slipping out a foul word or so in rage (That’s Junichi’s beautiful Engrish coming through), protective over his friends yet sometimes keeping his distance and even teasing them whenever he wants.

Additionally, I have Amy more spirited and open, similar to her canon counterpart but not exaggeratedly obsessive unless it’s to make fun of Sonic (Sort of how she’s toned down in Lost World yet often regaining that flirty behaviour from the dreamcast era whenever she pleases). She has a big heart and I like to pronounce that factor in the manga to the point where it lands her in trouble. I’ve had trouble trying to portray Amy in a way to appeal to the majority of the fan-base so I’d often send Mayra prompts as anon and see her take in the situations I give her and believe me, it’s super helpful and I got to learn new things too.

For Shadow, I still have him act like an ass to Sonic because it really sparks their juxtaposing dynamics but also having him work along the blue blur without protest if necessary. I’m not sure if I’ve portrayed it in the manga yet but I’d have him slightly more open, just a smidge, and have a mutual respect to others like Knuckles, Amy, Silver and Blaze. There are times where Amy would unintentionally trigger a “Maria” moment but usually he’d brush it off since he’s moved on from the past (But that’s not the case right now in the manga since the spirit demonic ghost thingy got a hold of him lel).

As for Silver, when he does appear in the manga (Volume 5 kidsss, get ready...even though the majority of you all are older than me) I will give him a soft yet serious personality rather than the stereotypical gullible and “IT’S NO USE ECKS DEEE” portrayal. There will be certain moments where he’s dorky or childishly excited, or even have a huge optimism over things that’d backfire towards him at the end. Similarly to Amy, he’d have a big heart whilst Shadow has little compassion and Sonic could potentially throw his away if it feels right, so, he gets into trouble as often which results in Blaze (who shall also appear hauhauah) to help him out.

The other characters was simply inspired by their anime and games counterpart haha.

Phew! This is long! So to summarise, just thank Mayra for how I’ve developed the characters so far in Project Jinsei and you will love her even more since she also voices Blaze for me >:D Go give this talented girl a follow and thank you for reading this long ass essay hahah.

-Akari

#portraying sonic characters #my rambles #rambling #all hail cutegirlmayra lmao #sth #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #shadow #silver #silver the hedgehog #amy #amy rose #project jinsei #insanity manga #this is so long jfc

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ultimaxell · 7 years

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Our Darkest Days : Vampire AU

Sometimes…. Saho wondered if he even had a heart anymore.

It was more than just the fact he could no longer feel, could no longer see the colors he knew ran so vividly through the world, a memory painted in the, admittedly, flawed spectrum his mortal mind had, More than just the missing emotions he knew she should be there, knew he should be feeling but instead of their rampant appeal, he felt nothing but an aching hole in his chest, another reminder of what used to be. He loved his father, He loved his brothers, his friends. He loved them, with every aching fiber in his soul, but he could not feel it, could not feel the burning attachment that he knew was there…. And Yet still, he acted on it, played into like most Vampires did, only his was strengthened by the longing the dwelled within him, that longing for both emotion and the people they were attached to. Saho wanted Amun… He wanted Alta.

He supposed that was the human remains in him, the side of him that had died thousands of years ago when his father had brought fangs to flesh and turned him from a peasant misfit to a king. He could remember seeing in color, could remember the feelings that rushed through him, new, hot, vivid, only to be taken away after one hundred short years, all color fading along with his joy, his happiness, anything light in him. He had been told it was normal, told this was the way a vampires worked, and after thousands of years, Saho had accepted that. It didn’t matter so much anymore, and he even began to appreciate it, content that his chest no longer swelled with sympathy, no longer felt any empathy for those under him.

It was in moments like these, in the flickering candle light of what they had deemed the throne room, his back pressed against the high raised chair with, what looked to him like murky grey but was actually a vivid blue cushions comforting his body, that the thought rose up again, the question he held no answer to and did not really care to.

What what the price of immortality?

Was it simply your humanity, or was it possible that it was the very beating heart that lay in you chest? Sure, it beat against his hand as he held a curious hand over it, his eyes hooded, shadowed as he felt it’s rhythmic thump in one, two, threes, but his question laid more with the ‘heart’ or had he given that up, Handed it to his father In exchange for immortality and power that now sang through his veins? It wasn’t a question he wondered often. In truth, Saho was content with how his life was playing out, in what it was that he could do, what power he held over people and their thoughts. He knew what he was, a Vampire, a king, and most days it gave him a strong vivid surge of enjoyment to see people beg him for small things, a loan, a day… their lives, and their vigorous fear only proved to him what he already knew…. That he was made to be a king.

But sometimes he wondered what price had paid for such a right, what he had given up to make this his destiny.

The question popped up now, fresh in his mind now, as he stared down the men who had fallen to their knees before him, dark long hair falling in his face as his hands pressed flat against the floor, his body, invisible to other who were looking upon him, shook slightly under the weight of his stare, like his eyes weighed more than his body could handle, a thousand pounds of judgement and promised pain. Saho’s head tilted, his eyes blinking slow as he took the man in, his memory, longer than that of a normal human, could vaguely recall the image of this man standing before him, to promised wealth and reputation to the kings should they simply give him a small loan.

Saho had known that he would not be able to hold up the loan that he had given to him. He had know this was how it would end, that the man, so cocky before, so arrogant, so sure, would end up here once more, begging, pleading with him to give him just that one more chance, that if he just gave him a little more time, he could make him double, no triple what Saho had dished out.

He didn’t realize Saho had never intended for him to make it.

“So you’re telling me, that you have come here, empty handed….. And expect forgiveness?”

The man stiffened, his sobs silencing even as the tears spilled from his eyes. He knew. He knew what it was that was coming, the words that would fall from, his lips even before he said them. Saho knew that if he commanded it, the man would slit his own throat, that all the King had to do…. Was simply say no, and they would know just exactly what that meant. In Reality, Saho didn’t have to say another word, didn’t have to even look up from his worn boots, didn’t have to do more then wave his hand in his direction for all of this to be over...

But it was far more fun to go through formalities.

“What’s that? There is no mumbling in my court.”

The man shivered as Saho’s voice ran over him, his body shaking, trembling. Saho gave him a moment, a few seconds of his prolonged silence, before the quirk in his lips became to hard to hid, the twist of his lips into a wicked grin flashing in his eyes.

“You don’t deserve my Protection any longer. All that you have…. Belongs to me now.”

The man snapped up, just as Saho Lifted his hands…. And snapped his fingers.

The sounds of his screams reverberated through the halls as the men lining the walls, the ones hooded, flashing ravenous eyes snapping toward the man’s figure as he spoke, who responded to Saho’s gestures in an instant, their movements quick, a blur of motion, and all that could be heard was the screams, the splash of blood across stone as they tore into his flesh, the sight of it hidden by the splay of limbs, the rush of bodies of starving vampire fledglings flailing and covering the sight of the body being torn apart.

Saho only watched, grinning slowly as he leaned back into his chair, his hand coming up to catch his cheek against his knuckles. He settled, tilting his head to the side to allow himself to soak in the screams…. For a moment, anyway.

“So…. you couldn’t have killed him in a normal way…. Like say slitting his throat? Stabbing him with a knife that I know you have on you…. Snapping his neck maybe? You know, like a normal vampire king might have? Do you have to use the starving fledglings? I hate the sounds they make….”

The smile that had been creeping along his lips dulled into a surly pout as Saho turned his head to look at the person who muttered the words lowly, softly, to the point that they were reserved simply and only for him. Saho took a moment to take in the image of the man lying across one of the other thrones, his hands raise so his fore arms rested on his chest, his eyes, blue as the oceans and just as deep, just as vivid, locked on the little cube of what should have been colors that rested in his hands, fingers moving over them to rearrange the smaller squares again and again and again, his expression never changing from his typically bored mask.

Alta Lee was a Formidable man. It didn’t matter that he was currently sitting in a throne with a child’s toy in his hands, It didn’t matter that he had seemingly never allowed his eyes to move from his hands, his fingers that moved easily over the little rubix cube, Saho knew that the brown haired king had seen, heard, processed everything that had transpired with a troubling ease. He didn’t have to look to see the bodies on the ground, didn’t have to look up to know who it was that stood before them and whose blood now painted the ground. A Lee’s business was knowing, and Alta was a picture perfect Lee.

“I like using the fledglings…. What the point of starving them if we can’t use them?” Saho huffed, slipping from his Kingly air for a moment as he huffed back, a child again in a golden crown. Alta huffed, scoffed at the words, his gaze only flickering once toward the black haired boy.

“That would be the point. What’s the point of starving fledglings? It’s almost cruel.”

“As if You care about what’s cruel or not.”

There was a moment of silence as Alta could not say a single thing to that matter. Saho grinned. It wasn’t often he won in a battle of words against the Lee. If he were to keep score (Which he wouldn’t, that would be pointless) Alta would have 18654 wins to his 4.

Including this one.

So he soaked in it a little.

“Next. Shalen Tustin.”

Saho, still reeling in his little victory against Alta, hardly heard the words that the courtkeeper had spoken, the rest of the court’s head turning as the wide double doors opened, revealing a small man with nervous mannerisms, his fingers touching as he shuffled forward, blues eyes flicking toward the fledglings that had returned to lining the sides before moving on to the kings that sat, unamused and imposing, at the head of the throne room. Saho’s head tilted, his mind racing as he tried to bring up some fragment of a memory on this man, but for the life of him, he could not remember.

The man stopped,paused in front of him, and from the corner of his eye, Saho saw Alta move, fingers dropping the rubix cube as he straightened his spine, twisting so that he faced the man with a visible interest in his stance, something that caught Saho’s attention immediately. Alta didn’t care for court dynamics, and he very, VERY rarely showed any interest in anyone who walked in. Infact, Alta made it a point to simply ignore almost everything that was going on before him when it came to the days he had to hear what the public had to say, choosing to play some sort of childish game or ignoring everything around him. To capture Alta’s attention was something extraordinary, and now they whole heartedly had his attention as well.

“Why are you here, Mr. Tustin?”

The man shifted, mumbled something under his breath as his gaze slid along the ground. Saho could hear Alta starting to shift again, and he knew from experience a restless Alta was not a Alta that anyone really wanted to deal with. It really wasn’t a matter on if he could hear him or not. Saho was, if not just a king, but a Dhouti, one of the strongest lines of Vampires, turned by by the originals themselves and holding their blood. He could hear him, perfectly, hear the words that slid past his lips, but Saho wanted to hear him articulate. He gave no special treatment, even to those that interested him.

“Why are you HERE, Mr. Tustin. I can’t be bothered to try and hear you if you want to whisper.”

“MY DEBT! I’m here…. I’m here to settle my Debt.”

“And what do you think you have that might interest me?”

There was a silence, before the man before them seemed to steel, and his eyes hardened as more people stumbled through the open doors. His voice was clear now, his mind already made up, long before he had even set foot before the Kings.

“My Daughter, Caven.”

And there was that human nature, the nature of loyalty so easily broken in the fragile creatures that made up most of the world's population. Saho blinked, his expression betraying nothing. He could not deny that he had expected something of the sort, the man's fortune, his house, his servitude, but to off his own daughter as repayment for a debt was something that saho had very rarely heard. He moved, shifting slightly as his gaze narrowed, the grin twisting his features, black and blue strands falling into mismatched eyes as he breathed his question, a simple one with a hopefully interesting answer.

“Tell me, why would your daughter be worth your debt?”

--------------------------

Vampire males, any of the males of the Originals blood without a lifemate, without their one, didn't dream. They didn't see in color and they certainly didn't feel emotion. Pain, yes, but not any good emotion. So why had he been reaching for a dream for the past few years? He was an ancient, an experienced warrior. He had no time for fantasy, or for imagination. His world was stark and barren, a necessity for battling an enemy who, inevitably, had been a friend or family member.

Over the first hundred or so years after losing his emotions, he had held out hope. As centuries passed, the hope of finding his one had faded. He had accepted he would find her in the next life and he was carrying out his resolve to do his last duty to his people. Yet here he was, an ancient of great experience, Alta of the Lee line, a lineage as old as time itself, a man of wisdom, a warrior renowned and feared, sitting wide awake, dreaming.

Dreams should have felt insubstantial, and at first his had been. A woman. Just a vague idea of her appearance. So, young in comparison to him, but a fighter in her own right. She hadn't been his concept of the woman who would partner him, yet as she grew in substance over the years, he realized how perfect she was for him. He had fought far too long to ever lay down his weapons. He knew no other way of life. Duty and sacrifice were bred into his very bones and he needed a woman who could understand him.

Perhaps that was what dreams were. He'd never dreamt until a few years ago. Never. Dreams were emotions, and he'd long ago lost those. Dreams were color, although not his. But they felt like color as the years shaped the woman. She was a mystery, sheer confidence when she fought. She often had fresh bruises and wounds that left scars on her soft skin. He'd taken to examining her carefully each time they met, healing her had become a traditional greeting. He found himself smiling inside, thinking how she was entirely confident when it came to viewing herself as a woman. For a few moments, he contemplated why he should be smiling inside. Smiling was equated with happiness, and he had no emotions to feel such things, but his memories of emotions were sharpening as he moved toward the end of his life, instead of dimming as he had expected. Because when he summoned the dream, he felt a sense of comfort, of well-being and happiness.

Over the years, she had become clearer to him. A fierce leader with exactly the same values he held on loyalty and family and duty. He would never forget the night, only a week ago, when he saw her eyes in color. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, looking at her in wonder, shocked that he could remember colors so vividly that he could attribute an actual color to her eyes.

Her eyes were beautiful, glowing blue with faint hints of gold and amber that darkened when he managed to elicit a laugh from her. She didn't laugh often or easily, and when she did, he felt it was more of a victory than any of the battles he'd won.

As dreams went, and they only occurred when he was awake, they always seemed a bit out of focus. But he looked forward to seeing her. He felt protective toward her, as if his allegiance had already swung toward his dream woman. He wrote to her, songs of love, saying all the things he wished to tell his one. And when she refused to rest, he'd lay her down, her head in his lap, stroking her thick mane of hair and singing to her in other languages. He'd never felt more content, or more complete.

He had often called her Varis, his tongue caressing the word. She had no idea what it meant, but that single word made a swarm of butterflies take flight in her stomach. Something that made him soar, made that smile that usually only played over his expression for his Dhotui display with a brilliance he could not wipe away.

And now, she was here. Her figure moving out from behind a man who did not even warrant a second glance. Alta could hear Saho’s words. Could hear the man speaking in hushed, trembling tones. But none of the words clicked with him. None of the words made any sort of sense when she moved forward, those blue eyes down cast.

He stared down at her, afraid to move or blink, terrified she would disappear, that his perfect dream would shatter. She didn't want them to see her injury. In his dream, she wasn't supposed to have an injury. She'd always been able to control his dream, but lately, reality had crept in a little too much.

Alta shifted out of the throne, his leg that was thrown so haphazardly over the side over the chair threw over to hit the floor. His fingers dropping the rubicks cube without a hesitation as he moved to tower over the small girl.

He gripped her chin in his hand and turned her face toward the light of the flickering fire, a small frown settling over his features.

“Your face is bruised.”

Those bruises shouldn't have been there. Reading her thoughts, as he always did, her warrior swept her hair from her face with gentle fingers. He allowed himself to just feel, to drink in her presence, to enjoy that moment of not just dreaming of her. He touched her hair, rubbing the silky strands between his fingers.

A very male part of him rose up, dominant, protective, a hint of rage at the idea of another man uncovering her vulnerability, at the thought of a person striking her. The woman, his Caven belonged to him alone, as he did to her. The world could see the warrior in them both, but the man and the woman were an intimacy no other needed to know.

“She’s mine.”

His words were meant for Saho’s ears, his finger still tracing over features of a woman so small in comparison to him.

Colors as bright as the sun swirled in front of his eyes, nearly blinding him. Every emotion was magnified a thousand times. Humiliation. Embarrassment. Sorrow. Rage. A terrible sexual hunger, raw and volatile, a craving he'd never experienced.

This need, this craving, was stronger than any one thing he'd ever experienced. It took his breath and stole his sanity. The passion didn't just involve his body, every single part of him, heart and soul, seemed to have an overwhelming desire to be with her. Life mates. His one. She had seen the devotion his grandfather’s Alder one had to him. He paid attention to the smallest thing, seemed completely focused on her every moment, and that kind of concentration would make Alta crazy. He'd been waiting for her too long. He went weeks without seeing or talking to another person besides Saho. How could he possibly be in a relationship? He didn't know how. He didn't know the first thing about sharing his life or, or anything. He could barely breathe, his lungs burning for air.

He would try for her though, he knew this with only moments of finally knowing her.

“Who gave these to you, Varis?”

-------------------------------

Caven never thought she would be the kind of girl who would long for death.

It was a strange concept to her, to be sure. Death was something that she knew, every human familiarizing themselves with the ideal and concept when they were young, a just in case mentality on most and a forced perception on others. It wasn’t hard, not really, to grow used to the idea of it, the act of it almost becoming something of a rite of passage, a coming of age for most people that called Heaven’s Falls thier home. Death was familiar, an ever present constant, a shadow that stalked, hunted, followed around humans. It was a creature lingering, a companion that trailed in the shadows they left behind, always there, mostly unnoticed, but forever connected, pressing dark fingers into spines to send little ripples of fear along their bodies.

Caven knew that she should be scared. It would have been the logical thing, the most appropriate feeling. She should be terrified, she should be fighting against the bonds that held her, the rope that bound her wrists together and tied them to her waist,, she should be cursing the day she was born because this was it, this was how she was going to die. She knew that…. She knew what she should be feeling with a vivid clarity. It was the vision she had always had when the subject was broached, as it always was, particularly in the early hours of the morning as kinds, children, hid under blanket forts with nothing but a candle to illuminate their youthful, naive faces, hushed whispers of what they would do if they should ever be caught by the monsters that went bump in the night, grand illusions, bold boasts of fighting, of ripping them limb from limb as they went down fighting….

No one ever realized it wasn’t like how you imagined. It was never going to be the picture perfect scenarios you thought of in your head. Sometimes…. You didn’t get to play the Hero. Sometimes, you had to accept that you were never going to amount to anything….

Except a Pawn.

Caven moved, following silently behind the man she was forced to call her father. Her hands twisted, not in struggle,in simple discomfort, her fingers clenching as her eyes, bright blue locked on the ground before her as it passed under her converse clad feet, worn shoes scraping along the floor as she heard the doors open to reveal her tomb, her deathbed, her grave.

She didn’t mind, not really. It was strange, but rather than curse and bemoan the luck that had fall upon her, the luck of having a father too arrogant for his own good, too cocky to think he had to pay back what he owed to the Vampire Kings, Caven instead choose to greet death as an old friend, a creature so bonded to her it might as well have been her twin. She was no stranger to death, having dealt her own hand of it, dealt her own pain, and so she simply graze past him, her soul lingering, fluttering about in bony hands... She straightened her back, eyes dry of the tears that most expected of her, her blond hair falling to frame her face, pigtails spilling down her back to lightly graze over the small swell of her hips.

She found herself thinking, marveling at how little she regretted her short life. She had only lived for eighteen years, but there was only two things that she even found herself feeling even the slightest bit of remorse for.

One was she never really got to say goodbye to Vendetta, her one true friend in this world, the only girl that Caven would give anything for. Caven and Vendetta had been born on the same day, the same year, within minutes of each other at the same hospital. It had been simply fate that she had met the girl in her later years, when she was about three or four and her mother had dained to take her to the park on one hot summer afternoon. Caven, who had been nursing a bruise the side of a baseball on her side, hadn’t been moving much, simply playing in the sandbox when some kid had come up to her and knocked over her silly little castle, a tragedy of a castle really, but it had been hers and she had spent a total of twenty minutes on it, a eternity to a child. Caven could remember the sting behind here yes, could remember the rage, but she never got to express it, as there was a sudden yell, a scream that was more battle cry then anythings he had ever heard before, and the form of a small girl, perhaps smaller than even her at that time, the cry on her lips as she came flying in feet first to slam into this person, some random whose names she could not remember, whose face had long since faded from memory.

But Her first look at the girl who would come to mean everything to her was something that would never fade from Caven’s mind, forever ingrained in her soul, her heart, her mind. She was beautiful, even back then. Her hair had been much shorter, long white strands that flowed around her in an almost mystical halo. Caven could remember looking at her, her eyes wide as she looke dup at the girl who was grinning down on her, thinking that there had to be some mistake, that there had to be some sort of mishap because this girl was far to gorgeous to have ever paid her any mind. She was like some sort of mystical creature, a warrior, a valkyrie on angel’s breath come to save the common rot that littered this earth. She was ethereal, strong and powerful, and she choose her to befriend. Years were not kind to Vendetta in terms of life, both Caven and Vedetta drawing short ends of the straws in terms of parents. Caven could remember Vendetta standing before her, another protective stance as she took a beating that should have found Caven’s already ruined flesh.

She was like that, protective of her, even when Caven had not earned such a gift. Caven did what she could to make it better. She was not strong, something she knew from her father's hand, her mother's whips, but hands that could not strike could heal, and Caven’s fingers had skimmed over Vendetta’s ruined skin, her bruises, her cuts that both belonged to her and did not. Caven would trace over the smile, false, it always rang so false, fingers brushing pretty pink lips and bright blue eyes wide and watery with tears she would not shed, a weakness they could not afford. She wouldn’t cry in front of Ven, for crying would equate to failure in the young Albino’s mind, and if Ven could fake a smile for her sake, Caven would do the same, her lips forcing a smile even as they brushed over bruises and cuts that she knew would sting long into the night.

Caven had not seen her this morning. Had not seen her when her father had woken her at the crack of dawn and told her to get ready, to not bother with breakfast because they were running late. She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye, but she had left a note, knowing, assuming, that whatever her father had planned wasn't good.

It was the only thing she could have done, but it wasn’t enough to express her heart on tiny lines on a page.

Caven’s only other regret was something that she couldn’t really explain. For as long as shecould remember, Caven had been dreaming, thinking, envisioning someone who had long since become a comfort to her, a shoulder to cry on when she could not show tears to Ven. She didn’t know if they were real, she had to assume they weren’t, as she only ever saw them in her dreams, hazy images of a tall man with dark hair and bright eyes who brushed fingers over her skin, pressed kisses to her cheeks as she breathed in the comfort he offered without words, her hands grasping, clutching, reaching and wishing for such a handle in reality.

Her regret was she never found out who this person was, and now…. She never would.

But These regrets were few, and truly if she only had two regrets at the end of her life, This was something Caven could, figuratively, live with.

She heard her father speak, mumbling in his meek voice,earning an eye roll from the blond as she huffed her breath upward. She didn’t hear him as he moved, didn’t hear the footsteps approach her as she shifted on her own feet, fingers clenching, clasping, until she felt it, a hand on her skin as fingers hooked under her chin. Her face was forced up, a light gasp pulling from her lips as she blinked in surprise, and her eyes snapped toward the man whose hand brushed her skin so easily, whose touch rang a thousand bells in her mind, his very presences a soothing familiar feeling.

“I know you….” the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she felt her heart, once hammering in her chest as his touch sung it’s call in her veins, stall at the sight of the frown that pulled on his lips. It was Him…. It was him, it was him, it was him, the man from her dreams, the one who so sweetly calmed her tears when she came to him crying, the one who in meeting healed her before all else, her body refreshed and vivid whenever he made her drink from his wrist. She recognized him, not by his looks, but by the sound of his voice, by the touch of his skin, light, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure it was her…. That frown however was a clear contrast to what she knew of him, and her heart plummeted. Had she disappointed him, was she not to his liking? The thought of being less than satisfactory suddenly hit her harder than it really should have, her eyes welling, stringing as she blinked rapidly and drew in her shaking breath. She wanted to be enough…. God she wanted to be enough.

His words, however, caught her off guard. No one had ever cared to ask that before…. Not anyone who didn’t know the answer already anyway.

“.... They were my fault, my lord… I was not fast enough to get ready this morning….”

She mumbled the words, her gaze lowering slightly away from him. The name he called her, she could remember it from her dream. It was always spoken so affectionately…. And today was no exception. Her heart fluttered a little at the sound, her breath catching as she leaned slightly away from him, though her body moved, leaned closer to his touch.

So absorbed with her discovery, Caven didn’t hear the commotion until it was at their front door, the doors slamming open and her name being called by a voice she would recognize anywhere.

“VENDETTA!”

-------------------

Her life was a living hell.

There was no way around it, no denying the world she lived in was wrapped in a dark mist of pure hell fire. Every minute of her waking hours nothing but a sad excuse of a life. Something that she would not wish on her worst enemy. There was no happiness besides the little moments she would steal away Dragging Caven and their sisters off, pulling from the fist and the lashes. The moments where her and Caven would sneak away, their secret spots hidden from prying eyes so they could just be. So they could just have each other. Wrapped in the little bit of happiness that both knew would not last long.

Her life was sad.

She didn’t want to be save though. Hell, if anything she wanted to be the hero of her and Cavens story. Wanted to be able to come down on the vicious world that they lived in. She couldn’t count how many times she had saved each of the small girls from the hands of their parents. Could not count how many times she had sucked down her own tormented emotions so she could show a toothy smile to the other girls. Show some sort of hope in the dark reality they called life. Her only saving grace, her only reason for continuing through the world was for Caven. For those blue eyes that stared so hopefully at her.

So she would be damned if her life was going to be a sad, hellish, and Caven-less.

With that thought in mind and blood dripping down her lip, dribbling down the column of her neck she pushed forward. Pushed through the onslaught of humans who tried to barricade the door from her, pushed through the guards, who she knew could have honestly taken her down. Fist pounded at her flesh, her mother’s screams reached her ears, but they held little suede over her. Not reaching any empathy as her voice cracked in a weak attempt of betrayal.

Elbows flew, catching her ribs, the side of her cheek, but nothing deterred her as she reached the spoked doors. Her hands pushing them open with a huff, tears that she had not even realized were falling causing her gasp to come out a little too desperate as she caught sight of the small blonde.

“CAVEN! DON’T TOUCH HER!”

Hands caught her as she lunged forward, fingers digging into raw flesh and squeezing on the what seemed fragile bones under their grasp. There was not too much she could do as her head slammed into the marble flooring, her head instantly pounding and brilliant lights playing behind her vision. But still she moved, even if it was lagged, sluggish under the assault of the body guards. The guards who seemed to be mildly distracted, their words flying towards eachother. Swearing at the guards at the door for even allowing her in.

The second she had a hold on her hands and knees, a white-hot flash of pain burst in her ribs, the red heads boot finding a home in between crushed bones. The air was gone and all she could do was arch, her mouth agape as stared wide eyed at the spiraling ceilings.

“I killed the last one, you gonna pick up the slack or do I have to do all the work?”

The red head spoke as she turned her head, her vision swimming as she tried to move out from under him. Blood poured from her mouth as she got back to her knees. Where she was only meet with yet another whip of pain, her head crashing back into the marble flooring.

“Let’s not be so hasty, why don’t you get your foot off our esteemed guest so she can speak properly.”

The voice echoed against the walls, reverberating through her very veins. Soothing a piece of her that she didn’t think she could get a hold of at the moment. There was a calm to it, a whisper of a promise that she could not grasp. But you could hear it, the tone lying right underneath the words. The tone of a leader, of a man not to be played with. A man in charge.

And Vendetta shivered against the cold of that tone.

But the boot moved, sparing her. Though she would not admit it, her heart hammered out a rhythm of fear as she laid there, pain radiating through her body. It would be a lie to say she was not letting said fear affect her, that she was only laying there still because of the pain. The truth was she was scared. Scared for Caven, scared for herself.

By the time she made her move to stand, her mother had entered the room. But Vendetta did not give her passing glance as she stood, a whine spilling from her as she winced from the pain that splintered at her side. Pale fingers gripped at the already bruising skin, her eyes finding those blonde locks again. Then finding the blonde locks of her best friends father. And she could not detain the rage that instantly burned through her, easily covering the fear as she approached the small group of three.

Her fingers of her free hand fisted, and the second it took for her hand to connect to the Shalen’s cheek seemed endless. But he went down, her hit so hard that she could feel her knuckles screaming from the contact. But her own body fell forward, breathless still.

“You’re not taking her from me. She’s not an ‘offering’ for a shit hole you cannot even keep up with.”

#Saho Dhouti #Alta Lee #Caven Evans #Vendetta Langdon #Our Darkest Days : Vampire AU #UltimaWrites #XellWrites #renekostudios #Story #Post 1

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waddlesdpig · 5 years

Text

DELTARUNE RUN THROUGH ( Or how quiet silence can speak volumes)

*The following is a opinionated writeup about Delta Rune, spoilers and bad jokes ahead.*

SO, October 31st, Toby Fox stealth dropped a follow up to the smash success that is Undertale. The reaction to this of course was hype of unparalleled levels, Goat Mom’s, Skelebro’s, Socially anxious lizard people, whatever this guy is, everyone was and still are going nuts about DeltaRune. ( Even Jerry! EVEN JERRY!) And what’s not to like? Ya got a brand new story, brand new cast of characters with a unique spin on the returning favorites, new and improved battle system and animation, of course that sweet sweet music, and they even added a run button! ( Video games? Saveeeed!)

However as i played Delta Rune more and more, i found myself notably less charmed as a whole when compared to my time with Undertale. Don’t get me wrong here, i fully understand that in terms of production and story subject, these are two very different games. Undertale was a complete experience when it was released, while my judgements on Delta Rune so far are based on what is essentially a demo with the promise of a full game later on.

However i would argue that both Undertale and Delta Rune share a common element which in one elevated the experience, and in the other detracted from the overall enjoyment.

This element being the Player Character ( which will be refereed to as “ PC” from now on cause i’m hella lazy). Given both game’s protagonists are silent, it might be laughable to suggest that UT/DR’s PC effectiveness could vary so much that one would serve as a hinderance in one title or as a boon in the other. However in terms of levels of engagement i feel though that this is just the case.

This is evident firstly in the character design of each game’s respective PC. On a purely surface level Frisk is a blank slate, pure and simple. Though Frisk sports the simpler and albeit rougher design of the two PC’s, his neutral expression goes a long way in allowing the player to imprint their desired personality onto Frisk without having too many mental hoops to jump through.

Kris on the other hand, despite having the more interesting design and much cleaner sprite work, is harder for the player to grasp onto. His face being mostly covered by shadow, conveys a sense of aloofness and detachment, which plays into the early Delta Rune’s depiction of him as the odd man out in his class. But ( so far) fails to capitalize on turning him into a successfully likable character that can work on his own. In the same way Suzie’s change in appearance signaled a satisfying development in her character, i feel DR could have done something where Kris’s design evolved with his character. Instead it only serves to act a twist at the end of the game, letting us know that Kris is actually the embodiment of all that is evil.

If the contrast between these two PC’s went only this far, i’d say more than likely i would have enjoyed my time DR at least marginally more than i already did. However the differences goes beyond that, permeating the depth of Delta Rune.

Going back to Frisk, despite being a silent protagonist, throughout the game of Undertale we can see facets of him having a personality of his own. Frisk is curious about the world, has a sense of humor, ( in non-genocide runs) shows a determination to fight without harming others, and genuinely cares about those he comes across. He makes choices and those choices affect the world around him. Granted aside from Frisk’s merciful nature, ( which is a integral part of UT’s gameplay) most of what i just listed is all implied. Implied through his actions to be fair, but implied nonetheless. But there exists enough of these breadcrumbs of emotion that the player’s mind could fill in the blanks and create a version of Frisk that most appeals to them.

Kris-py Kreme lacks these facets completely, in fact of all the things he lacks, the most distinct thing he lacks is choice. ( Yes i know surprise surprise, don’t need me to tell you that.) While i say this, that last statement isn’t technically true. In DR you have a variety of choices, you can choose to explore the environments, when engaging with NPC’s you can choose how to respond in conversations, you can choose to ignore NPC’s all together, and famously you can choose to fight or mercy your way through enemy encounters throughout the game.

So what i really mean is in most aspects, the choices Kris makes are never truly his own. This is mainly due to having an active party accompanying the PC. In UT Frisk was on his own for a majority of the journey, ( Shoutouts to Monster Kid) and as a result near every major turning point is affected by Frisk’s choices alone. Meanwhile Kris faces every decision is with a green Jiminy Cricket on his side encouraging him to be a gud boi and get dem brownie points.

I’d be amiss to suggest that Ralsei wasn’t likable in his own right, but his role in the group dynamic completely negates any presence Kris may have had. Serving neither as the aggressor nor the voice of reason, Kris’s silence unfortunately causes him to slip through the cracks when it comes to interactions with Suzie and or Lancer.

Furthermore Ralsei’s cuddling extends to the choices the players themselves make. Booting up the game the first time i was fully prepared to play passively, it’s freakin Undertale 2 ( The pre-sequel-progressive-alternative-child-timeline-universe-and-knuckles-do-you-know-the-way-to-end-my-suffering) for crying out loud. Yet it’s not till Ralsei quite literally tells you that you don’t have to kill anyone, that you are presented with a non-scripted battle. Which immediately dampened my enjoyment to that point. To play a pacifist route was no longer a self determined course of action, it was a direction the player was pushed towards multiple times throughout the game.

In UT solving fights by talking and sparing your enemies was encouraged in the beginning. Now i’m sure most approached combat in UT as a standard RPG, spam attack, get exp, level up, rinse and repeat. It was only later in the starting area that many understood that ACTing and mercy was a viable way to play the game. To act in this way was a CHOICE made all your own, a choice that was unfortunately robbed in DR as sparing is something heavily encouraged throughout the game.

As an example to illustrate my point, think back to the Pacifist Undyne fight. After a frantic escape and running sequence, you cross past the bridge into hotland and Undyne passes out due to the heat and conveniently next to you is a office water cooler. Now it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine many players would simply move on, unaware that saving Undyne was even a possibility. While on the flipside i’m sure it dawned on many what they could do and did so. Whatever the action, this something we had to decide on our own.

Conversely i’m confident that if this sequence had occurred in DR, Undyne would have fainted, with Ralsei immediately exclaiming that Kris needs to do something pls halp. Though the choice is still technically there, it is no longer your own. In fact i would go so far to say that if one were to take Kris out of DR completely, the story and character interactions play out without skipping a beat. Which is the last thing you want in a story-driven RPG.

In this way i feel that not all silent protagonists are born equal. UT was built knowing Frisk wouldn’t utter a word and as such was able to give him a sense of presence both in the story and the character interactions. While Kris ( for now) as failed to be nothing more than a blank slate with a sweet cape that takes up a character spot.

EPILOUGE

As much as it might seem that i’m beating up on Delta Rune cause “ It’s not mah undertale!” I sincerely had a good time with it, and i’m excited for more. ( Pls no lynch) I do feel a bit guilty judging a character who hasn’t had a chance to finish his story yet. Also recognizing the high possibility that Kris is exactly how Toby Fox wanted him to be, i would not be surprise if this usage of the PC was his way of hammering in the theme of choices being a fallacy. More than anything the purpose of this writeup was to explain my feelings why in my opinion Frisk is the more well utilized character.

Thanks for reading.

TL:DR Frisk > Kris

#deltarune #Undertale #FeelingFrisky #Kris deltaruined #Pigs eat figs

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