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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Yōkai

Hawks Week 2020 - Prompt: Horror Tales

Warnings: Ghosts, spirits, blood, gore, adult language, death, mentions of violent crime

Word Count: 9403

The people here are strange. They’re a superstitious bunch for sure. Everything has an underlying reason. Don’t forget to toss salt over your shoulder when you walk into that crime scene, Hawks. It’s bad luck if you don’t.

Despite the strange mannerisms that surround him, they are right about one thing: there’s more to these killings than meets the eye.

Notes: I went with a whodunit theme for this fic with some healthy ghosts and haunts thrown in. As this is pre-All Might’s retirement, Hawks is the #3 Hero.

Yōkai

Yōkai are a class of supernatural monsters and spirits in Japanese folklore. The word 'yōkai' is made up of the kanji for "bewitching; attractive; calamity" and "spectre; apparition; mystery; suspicious."

The small island of Miyako is renowned for its turquoise waters, pristine coral sanctuaries, amusement parks, and sprawling mansions. All in all, it’s a trust fund tourist trap. Still, like most pristine and shiny things, there’s a seedier underbelly that’s scrapes against the rough, sandy bottom. Come at low tide and you’ll catch a whiff of decay and rot.

Miyako Island is another example of that duality that exists within everything. No matter how pretty the water, there are always dark creatures that lurk in the shallow shoals and coves.

Hawks isn’t looking forward to his new assignment on the island. He’s been called in by the HPSC and Miyako’s police force. There’s been a string of unsolved murders and, with the onset of August, tourist season is in full swing. Homicide is bad publicity during the best of times. But, combine the discovery of freshly charred corpses popping up in various buildings, piers, and alleyways, with mass hysteria and you’re going to have a big problem on your hands.

For eight open murder cases, there’s not much for Hawks to go on, and the data he does have is spotty.

Hawks poured over the notes as soon as he got off the phone with the HSPC, the luster of the new assignment fresh in his mind. He swiped through the briefings and crime scene photos that were attached in the long email from Miyako’s chief of police.

It looks like the trouble started in the poorer areas of town. No matter how bright the city lights shine, there’s always the common shadow of a downtrodden, overworked, and underpaid populous straining under the weight of “keeping up appearances.”

Who else would do the nitty gritty jobs that ensured that the tourist season stayed afloat, and, most important of all, profitable?

Sadly, it’s the blue collar areas that first experienced the horrors. The notes on these cases are borderline elitist, skirting close to xenophobic. The usual: ‘it was just something that happened when you crammed people in that close’. ‘What else did you expect’? ‘Most of the victims aren’t even from the island’. ‘They’re strangers, they’re not locals.’ ‘They’re not one of us’.

The word immigrant pops up in the documentation frequently and it feels like a slur each time it appears. There’s a slinking, cloying animosity curling behind the looping words.

It pisses Hawks off.

The only reason he’s been called is because the crimes have jumped over the poverty line. Now, two prominent members of Miyako society have been murdered. So, what’s the connection you ask?

It’s the state of the bodies.

All of the victims, rich or poor, have been mutilated. Something sharp was drawn across their skin, cutting and splicing, marring them, marking them. Then, as if to add insult to injury, they’d been set aflame. It must have been a scorching blaze. Something that leaves them so crisped and blackened that they’re more husk than human. In each case, it’s taken dental records to identify the deceased.

The Miyako chief of police is doing a review of the known peculiars with Hawks.

“They mirror the, uh, earlier crime scenes. As you can see, this one, she is, er, was a woman in her late 30’s-”

“She was 37,” Hawks supplies, his golden eyes running over the chart that the chief of police is showing him. He’s trying his best to hide his agitation, but his feathers still bristle, the red plumage flaring, refusing to lay against his back.

“Uh, yeah, a bad age they say.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, it’s supposed to be bad luck. You know?”

“I don’t. Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?”

Hawks has to grit his teeth to keep his tone even. He’s really not liking the way these crime scenes are processed and he’s made his opinion known to the police chief and investigative team. Why now, he’d pressed, hours after flying in, sweat still clinging to his brow. Why didn’t the bodies matter when it was relegated to the lower socio-economic citizens?

He’s also critical and skeptical of the motives of this police chief. There’s something about the whole thing that feels...off.

But, now’s not the time to project that suspicion. He’s only just arrived, besides, he needs more information, more data. Despite his agitation, he gets why the HPSC sent him on this assignment. He’s known for doing things quickly. Plus, he’s usually calm, collected, and he’s got the clout to get things moving again.

He’s also observant. The HPSC both loves and hates this particular skill of his, but it’s to their benefit in this instance. His sharp eyes might spot something that’s been missed, they’d said on the phone with him as they handed off his assignment. If he played his cards right, they said, he could pull these murders from unsolved to solved. Oh, and the commission is thinking these murders might involve some agents from the League of Villains.

It’s not a confirmed connection.

There’s nothing solid about it, besides the body mutilation and burned corpses. But both are known habits of two members of the League. They’re shadowy leads, more steeped in hearsay than fact. All the same, one is rumored to have a fascination with blood, and the other, has a proclivity for using a bright, blue flame. It’s a hot heat, perfect for cremation and these bodies have all been practically, well, cremated.

“Have you met the other heroes that will be assigned to work with you?”

Hawks snaps out of his head and nods at the tall, balding police chief. “Amano and Matsuura? Yeah, we’re supposed to take a look at the first locations as soon as this...meeting...is concluded.” Hawks hopes the police chief can hear the air quotes he just put the word meeting in.

“Good, good. I saw your additions on the later cases. I really feel that we should look a little harder into those. One was a member of the city council. He was beloved by the city and-”

“If I’m looking for a pattern, there’s a higher probability that the killer was sloppier in the earlier cases. New habits and all. I’ll get to the councilman when I get to the councilman. Again, this string of murders started in the lowlands. While I realize that doesn’t get you the most publicity, and I hear a re-election is coming up for your position as chief of police this fall, I’m not going to pick at certain elements of this and leave others by the wayside.

You gotta’ problem with that, take it up the HPSC. But, listen, they’re a lot meaner than me and they’re not going to like that you’re obstructing my investigation. You asked the commission to send someone down, and, lucky you, you’ve gotten yourself stuck with me.”

Hawks flashes the police chief a bright grin, his teeth gleaming as his eyes crinkle to crescents. The man stammers for a moment, his face flushing under Hawks’ false joviality, then he tosses a bulky manilla folder on the desk.

“Why you...I heard you were an arrogant son of a...no, no.” The chief sputters, his teeth clenched, anger bared behind the grinding of his jaw. “You’re right, we’re so very grateful to the number three hero taking time out of his busy modeling schedule to lend us a hand with these murders.”

“Ooh, you saw that spread in the sports magazine? Nice use of color right? Loved that new set of watches I’m sponsoring.”

Fucking prick. Hawks is used to this kind of irate reaction, hell, it’s pretty expected now. He’d heard it so many times he has it memorized. Yeah, yeah, he’s twenty one, a kid who’s too big for his boots. He has no idea, no real world experience. Did you hear how he talked to me? The audacity.

Let this guy try to report his snarky attitude, it’s not going to get his low level wannabe bureaucratic ass anywhere.

“I’ll get my agency to send you a signed copy. I had no idea you were such a fan! Lemme grab these files, got some work to do. Catch you around, sir!” Hawks pantomimes a salute, a serious expression making his eyes narrow. Fuck this dude. He’s got bigger fish to fry.

Closing the door on the police chief’s mottled expression, he meanders down the stairs of the police precinct, his wings still arching and rustling his temper. You’d think this case didn’t matter to these buffoons. The sheer implication of Hawks’ presence should clue them in. The HPSC doesn’t do anything lightly. Nah, these killings could be related to the League. Plus, his background checks on the victims had revealed some startling discoveries.

All of them, down to the nineteen year old restaurant hostess, were involved in minor villain activities. Some had smuggled drugs, some laundered money on the side, one was a known broker. They kept climbing the ladder of severity. It was worrisome.

While the chances of the LOV’s involvement was low, the commission was still searching for their hideout. He’d caught wind of some of the activity revolving around that ongoing mission. He wasn’t assigned to it, but he liked to keep an ear to the ground.

Association with the LOV or not, these homicides kept bothering him. There’s something he’s not seeing. He dislikes the sensation. It makes him tense, ill at ease. Once he steps outside the police headquarters he launches himself into the sleet grey skies.

It looks like rain.

If he’s wanting to glean as much as he can from those early crime scenes, he better hurry. Hawks doesn’t like rain. It makes his feathers feel bogged down and dampened. Unfortunately, it has the same effect on evidence. Rain can whisk the little details away, slicking and drifting as it washes down to the vast sea. It can easily snag vital clues on its meandering path, erasing as it goes.

******

The first murder took place on the fourth floor of a shabby apartment. The victim lived in the 19th unit and was a 43 year old male. He was a well known loner. So, it was a shock to discover that he ran a pilfering ring. The ring wasn’t a small scale enterprise either. No, this went deep. It connected to three other islands and the Japanese mainland. There’s no way this guy was a simple recluse. If anything, he was nothing short of a criminal mastermind.

His body had been left in an odd position. It was likely staged, purposeful.

He was discovered by his landlord. Rent was due and it was unusual for him to be late with the payment. So, the landlord let himself into the 19th unit. It’s a small wonder no one reported the smell earlier. Apparently, it was putrid, acidic, gut churning. A mix of tarnished copper and old, rotten meat.

In all likelihood, he was murdered elsewhere and dragged back to the unit. Nothing in the room, besides his corpse, was scorched. The victim was splayed on his small bed, but the placement was strange. His feet were resting on his ashen pillow, shoes still on his feet. Meanwhile, his head was at the foot of his bed, pointing northward.

Hawks and one of the assigned heroes, a friendly guy named Amano, are going over the case file with two members of the forensic team. Apparently, one of the team members hadn’t been part of the original investigation clean up and bagging. As Hawks and Amano are sharing the crime scene photos, asking the forensic team questions, the taller of the two, gasps, clapping a hand over his lips.

Hawks tilts his head at the man’s reaction, his feathers automatically feeling for his pulse. It’s elevated and the guy appears to be truly bothered. It’s an upsetting picture, to be sure, but this is his job. He cleans up blood and guts for a living. Surely, he’s seen worse.

“You ok?” Hawks’ asks, his amber eyes shifting over the man’s face.

“F-fine. It’s just, well, look at him.”

Hawks takes the photo back. Did he miss something?

“What about him?”

“Look at the direction his head’s facing.”

“Uh,” Hawks examines the position of the hazy sun that peeks through the rain clouds outside the window. “North?”

Now the other forensic team member gasps. What the hell? What does facing north have to do with anything? It’s a cardinal direction. What would they say if he was facing the West? Again, are these people deliberately trying to bog his investigation down?

“I don’t see what, uh, relevance that has.” Hawks tells the two, looking over to Amano. The hero doesn’t seem to be bothered by their outburst. He just shrugs at Hawks’ frank stare.

“It’s supposed to be bad luck, but yeah, there’s not-” Amano begins, finally placing some clarity on the forensic team's outburst of paranoia, but he’s interrupted by the taller, jumpier man.

“Not just that. You collect iron in your blood if you sleep facing north. It brings death.”

The guy said death like it might summon the fearsome spector down on them at any moment. Amano coughs, his hand covering a badly concealed smile. “Yeah, sure. Facing north is bad luck, and, I guess it can bring death, too. Learn something new everyday...”

“Worked pretty well in this guys case,” Hawks muses, arching an eyebrow at the jittery forensic team. “You guys see anything else? Something a little more, I don’t know, pertinent?”

They don’t get much further with that crime scene.

Amano tags along for Hawks’ review of the other two cases. His agency runs out of this area and he was one of the first responders. He’s not got a lot of extra information, but he knows the people and they know him. It takes the edge off, lets the locals open up a little more.

The next case is in a home. Well, home feels generous, it’s more like a shack. Apparently, the victim liked to collect cat figurines. Like, really, really liked to collect cat figurines. There’s over sixty of them, they’re scattered around the place, tucked into nooks and crannies. It feels like a thousand little eyes are watching the two heroes as they canvas the space. It’s creepy. Hawks dislikes the sensation. His feathers keep lifting, feeling, spreading out.

The woman had been found at her kitchen table. She was propped into a chair, sitting, like nothing in the world, save her crisp remains, was amiss. The only way you could achieve a staging of that caliber was to wait for the body to enter rigor mortis.

That takes time.

Full rigor sets in around 5 to 12 hours after death has occured. Whomever did this must have had time to spare. And they weren’t worried about being caught during that time. No, they were too busy planning out the dramatic effect of their crimes.

Once again, he feels like he’s missing something.

One body was left pushing a garden cart. Literally, the man was found, early in the morning with his hands tied to a wheelbarrow. He was posed mid task, his arm lifted, reaching for someone, or something. Trouble was, the guy didn’t work as a gardener. No, he was a low level broker. Someone darting under the criminal radar. He’d eluded the police and heroes for months. Looks like his luck ran out.

The eighth body, the congressman, was discovered at a popular wharf. This crime scene is still in the process of being cleaned up, so there’s a flurry of people bustling around. Amano, and the other hero, Matsuura, who’s also been assigned to Hawks’ investigation, are talking with witnesses, gathering information and scheduling interviews. This kind of hero work is never ending. Hawks is grateful they’re willing to take on the grunt work.

As Hawks is kneeling, peering over the ledge of the pier, looking down on the blackened wood and debris, a loud cawing breaks out. It echoes on the wind, coiling and lifting. It’s a funny sound. Like it’s far away and dulled. It makes Hawks’ wings fan out, overstimulated and brittle. The heroes and crime scene investigators debate on the origin of the noise. It doesn’t help that there’s no bird that’s wheeling above them. No, the skies are dark and empty, with a light misting of rain starting to drip onto the lashing sea.

“What is that?”

“Is it a gull?”

“It’s creepy. There’s nothing even flying around. But, it sounds so close.”

“I think it’s a seabird. It’s gotta be, sometimes they fly out here looking for fish.”

“I’ve never heard a seagull sound like that.”

“There are other birds besides seagulls, idiot. It could be a pelican-”

“It’s a crow,” Hawks’ supplies, standing and turning back to the clutch of people who are quickly gathering up their supplies, doing their best to get the important pieces of evidence protected from the rain.

“Huh? Did he say a crow?”

“Oh, damn, that’s a sign of death.”

“No...I think it’s illness, not death.”

Hawks’ walks to Amano and Matsuura, he tells them he’ll meet them back at the police headquarters. He needs to start his interviews if he wants to even have a prayer of snagging a bite to eat. He’s been subsisting off coffee since he flew in and his stomach is rumbling, loudly.

The investigators are still debating the meaning of the crow caws when he takes off. His wings beat powerfully beside his head and he lifts above the grey storm clouds, coasting high, past the skyline.

Despite the strange mannerisms that surround him, they are right about one thing: there’s more to these killings than meets the eye.

Things feel off in every crime scene. Were their belongings really left that way? Or, have the details been staged? Plus, the murders keep escalating. The particulars are spreading out and deepening as they interweave. The major connecting thread is still the state of the bodies, but even that is starting to feel vague. Hawks shudders a bit of excess moisture from the tips of his wings. Fingers crossed, some of these witnesses and relatives of the victims will have a little more substance for him to chew on.

******

Oh, they have something alright.

It’s more hushed rumors and strange folk tales. God, the sheer frightened gullibility of these islanders is wild. The whole place feels so backwoodsey, lost in a bygone era. There’s always a prayer or blessing that needs to be uttered. Or, some supernatural logic that he needs to look into. Did you consider the devil, Hawks? He hides in the details, you know?

It’s fucking weird.

Hawks is treading in unfamiliar waters with this tripe. He didn’t grow up with any of this. The HPSC certainly hadn't offered him a course on Japanese islander folk traditions during his childhood. Still, these people, for the most part, seem well off, educated, cultured even. Some aren’t even from this island. But, they seem to be infected with the same disease: ghosts, oni spirits, and bad omens. It’s a whirling circle of nonsense and Hawks’ wants off this ride.

“I got a call from her.”

“From the victim, your sister?”

“Yeah, it came in at 4:49 am.”

“Ma’m, that’s not possible. The coroner noted that rigor mortis had set in by 2 am”

“She sounded faint. It was like she was underwater, but it was her. She screamed at me.”

“She screamed at you?”

“Yeah, it was this low scream. Kinda, like a gasp? Like she couldn’t breathe. It kept getting louder and louder and louder. It hurt my ears. They felt like they were ringing, pounding. Then, the line just went dead. I can still hear it, that scream. Every time I close my eyes, or whenever I least...I-I can still hear her.”

“Do you have your phone records?”

Hawks is trying to make sense of it all, but it’s like they’re talking to each other before they come into the interview room, telling each new interviewee to up the ante.

See if you can spook the number three hero. Go on, it’ll be fun.

There’s a slew of strange occurrences. Disembodied voices, knocking on windows, doors opening on their own, quiet voids of cold that they step into. Ghosts keep popping up.

Then, there’s the oni spirits. They have red faces and they lean in close, their fangs reaching, gnashing, grinding. One woman, who was married to one of the victims, burst into tears, her terrified sobbing turning into a frantic wail.

She had seen an ogre in her back garden. It was pushing a cart and the cart was on fire. Hawks’ checked his notes as he patted the woman’s back, trying to help her move through a few breathing exercises. One of the victims was found propped, pushing a wheelbarrow, could it be…

No. It’s another dead end.

This woman didn’t know that dead man, the one who was pushing the cart. She didn’t even live on the same side of town. Ugh, this is endless. It might be easier if he did apply these delusions to his investigation. At least that way he’ll feel sane.

Some of the victims had been acting suspicious, paranoid, on edge before their deaths. One of them had gotten a phone call in the middle of the night and ran off. The next day she was found dead in her home, burnt and drifting into ash.

“So, she got the call and just ran out the door?”

“Yes. But, she let it ring four times.”

“You said that already. I’m not sure-”

“She picked it up after the fourth ring.” The aunt of the victim is looking at Hawks expectantly, her blue eyes wide, starting.

“I don’t-”

“You know what that means...don’t you?”

“The hidden significance of picking up a phone on the fourth ring? No, no I don’t.”

They never fully expand on their weird theories. They’re normal comments to them. He debates looking up the meaning of the number four on his phone, but he tamps down the urge. It doesn’t pertain to the case. It’s useless drivel, a waste of time.

An adult man shows him this ugly, ugly drawing of a cat. It’s pulling a flaming cart. Hawks doesn’t even want to touch the paper. The man keeps pointing back at it as he goes over his neighbor’s timeline.

This particular witness is connected to the city councilman. The one that was oh, so important to the police chief. It’s a high profile case and it’s being taken seriously. Yet, here’s this supposedly credible witness, flashing a childish scrawl up to his nose, asking him to look for the phenomena, like it’s a normal request to ask the number three hero to look for nonexistent demons.

‘There’s gotta be more to this’, he tells Hawks, his voice broken, fervid. ‘Something, something has to be there, after all, the councilman was murdered for a reason’.

The man with the drawing is right about that, at least.

These are not random crimes. The MO is too similar. Every single victim was involved in some sort of villainous activity. Yeah, the guys correct on that one sane theory of his: ‘There’s gotta be something there’. But, whatever it is, it’s not this cat thing.

Hawks calls a halt to their interview and glumly munches on his cold chicken sandwich as he waits for the next witness to be called in. His head is pounding and he’s praying for some new development to fall into his lap, at least that way he can conclude things and get the hell off this island.

******

The 9th victim is an outlier.

He’s high up in social circles and he was a popular man. He’s also been accused of money laundering, tax evasion and fraud. He was acquitted on all charges, but his past never did stop nipping at his heels. However, that’s not what makes him an outlier.

No, that’s reserved for the state of his body.

Most of the victims have been burned to a crisp, leaving nothing behind, save bone and gristle. You can still see this guy's face and defining features. He’s a little charred, but it’s almost like the flames stopped right before they got past his chin.

They transport his body to the morgue and Hawks finishes the combing of the crime scene, setting up a new batch of interview times and creating witness reports. He leaves just as the sun is dipping under the horizon.

******

It’s late now, and the cool sea breeze blows in through his open hotel windows, soothing across his crimson plumage. It’s his first evening off in over a week. He’s still working though, typing his reports into his laptop.

He’s forgone his usual coffee this evening. He wants to try and see if he can catch a full eight hours tonight. God, what a fucking delicious treat that would be. Eight hours? That’s the real ghost here.

He shuts off his laptop and flops himself across his bed, his wings tucking into his side, burrowing his shoulders into their reassuring warmth.

He slips into the lull between realities, his mind whirring, the case resting heavily against the forefront of his thoughts. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he can’t distinguish between dream and actuality as he drifts off.

There’s something there.

It keeps to the edge of his vision, a dark shadow that leeches the color from whatever it touches. He can feel it watching him. It shifts quickly when he cocks his head to get a better look, sliding across the blank expanse like quicksilver, fluid and slick.

He looks away from the edges of his dreamscape and turns. He blinks in surprise. He’s at one of the crime scenes. It’s the one with the man in the wheelbarrow. There’s a crowd pressing around him and that dark figure is blotted toward the back, lurking, watching. The people around him murmur and whisper, too soft to hear. They don’t seem to notice him. They also don’t appear to have faces. They’re just blank voids, with soft notches where eyes, noses, and mouths should be. Unthinking, Hawks reaches for one of them and his hand slips through the air, weightless and heavy in the same motion.

When he blinks again he’s in that lady’s shack, the one with all the cat figurines. That wraith is sitting at her kitchen table. It’s not moving and he doesn’t feel particularly threatened by its proximity. Still, he dislikes this whole thing. If he can touch it, maybe he’ll wake up.

He’s stepping forward when he hears a soft mewl. There’s a black cat on a shelf. It’s tiny and lithe. It jumps in front of him, a low purr rumbling from its chest. It looks up at him, orange eyes fastening on his amber ones. Odd, he thinks, that woman only had figures. No living cats were evident in the house.

The cat chirps four times. It’s a light, high pitched sound that makes his ears ache. It almost sounds like a phone. The cat lifts its tail and turns, padding soundlessly into the next room. Intrigued, Hawks follows.

Now, he’s walking down a street. The cat is still in front of him, weaving in and out. That purr of it is loud and sharp as it vibrates around his ears. He keeps trying to get the feline’s attention. He pspsp’s at the dark cat, clicking his tongue, but it doesn’t respond. Hawks is distracted, not paying any mind to his surroundings, wholly focused on the feline.

The voice startles him.

It’s rasping and deep and it’s calling his name. Not his hero name, no, it’s saying his real name, over and over.

KEIGO TAKAMI.

Keigo Takami, he thinks, stumbling over words that make him, him. It sounds strange now, foreign. He hasn’t heard that name in such a long time. How did…

The voice is coming from behind him now. He whirls around and is face to face with that man. The 9th victim, the one whose face you could still see. He’s charred and battered, and blood is dripping in long rivulets from his gaping skin, pooling onto the ashen sidewalk.

His eyes are wide, searching but not seeing. The pupil and iris are both milky white, rolling around in the cavities of his sockets. Then, his mouth pops open. It’s horrifically wide, like it’s caught in a scream. His teeth are crumbling before Hawks’ eyes, black pearls that slide from the man’s lips and clatter around his feet.

Hawks is stunned, unsure, but, fuck, he can’t move. He tries to flap his wings, knowing that they’ll tug him away from this horror that’s in front of him. Except, there’s no whoosh of air, no lift. There’s nothing. What? How...

His hands bat at the emptiness along his back. Where are they? What is this? His fingertips press along his shoulders, searching, desperate. His quirk, it’s...it’s just gone. He’s frantic now and that makes him clumsy. His feet tangle under him and he falls. Grounded, his legs instinctively begin to push away from the shell of a man in front of him.

The figure moves with him. Hawks keeps scrabbling away, but the man is even closer now and his bare feet are disintegrating with each shuffling pad forward. Still, he keeps on. Hawks tries to move again, tries to shift, but he’s been cast in stone. He can’t look away...he can’t…

The man is almost upon him now. His fingers are crumbling, the ash they create is making him choke. He can’t breath, he’s wheezing, unable to pull oxygen through his trembling lips. Hawks’ lungs are burning...

Then, Hawks’ wakes up.

He’s sweating. His skin feels hot and his wings are flared. The feathers are quivering, searching. They bring him back bits and pieces. There’s someone sobbing two rooms over, someone is sleeping below him, their breath warm, he can almost feel it, pushing in and out, in and out. There’s a phone ringing. How many rings? What if it’s four...

Stop, stop.

Hawks tucks his wings back, ignoring the sounds, the sensations. The plumage wraps around him and he ducks his head into the darkness that they blanket him in. He’s comforted by the reassuring, solid presence of his quirk. He thought he’d lost it. His shoulders still hurt from his flailing motions. What is going on? He’s never had a dream like that. It felt so...so real.

No. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He doesn't believe in this stuff. It’s not real. There’s no such thing as ghosts.

He tries to lay back down.

He’s cooled off some, but his wings keep flapping, he’s stopped trying to fight them. His quirk is going into overdrive. This hasn’t happened to him in years, not since he was a kid. He tosses his pillow over his head, trying to stifle out the noise his quirk keeps drowning him in. He’s tired and overstimulated. Each breath stings and he tries to count, to walk through the steps that have been with him since childhood. Just be still, Hawks. It doesn’t matter.

The sun is peeking over the horizon when he finally dozes off, his head heavy, fogged with exhaustion.

******

Hawks grabs two nitro coffees the next morning.

He practically inhales the dark liquid, hoping it will let him evade the haze of tiredness that thrums through his veins. It’s a slow day, thank God. There’s nothing of note that occurred the night before. Everything is pacing along its planned trajectory. There are no new bodies and the last interviews go by without any mention of spirits or the paranormal.

Matsuura offers to take him for some lunch. Hawks, always eager to expand his palette, eagerly agrees and the two men head into the city. It’s a weekend, so the streets are crowded. People recognize Hawks and he chats with them, grateful for the welling of normalcy that the interactions bring. He’s signing an autograph when he catches sight of movement in a darkened alleyway.

It’s not a particularly noticeable shift, but something about it feels strange. Hawks hands the freshly signed soccer ball back to the gang of kids around him and tilts his head toward the motion. He blinks. What the fuck? That’s not possible.

It’s the man from his dream. He’s walking, steps heavy, sluggish and he’s moving into the alley. The 9th victim? But, but how? What?

His wings react to his agitation and he hones in on the spot, reaching, snatching at anything he can sense. His fierce wings never let him down. They’re versatile, practiced and perfected. Feathers detach and shimmer into the midday sun, ducking around corners and onto rooftops, feeling.

There’s nothing.

No heartbeat, no footsteps, no voices. Hawks’ eyes had slipped closed as he felt for the man and he snaps them open again, his avian pupils dilating, constricting to a fine point. He turns to Matsuura and tells the hero he’s going to check something out. His wings lift before Matsuura can answer and he flaps into the air, the sea breeze assisting his ascension.

The rooftops are empty and Hawks scans the streets below, his wings rustling as he pulls himself along. Maybe it was a trick of his mind? Did he really see that guy? That’s a stupid question, how could he have? That man is dead. It’s gotta be his tired psyche. He didn’t sleep well, plus this case has been on his brain so much that he’s even dreaming about it.

He lands on a nearby roof, his boots hitting the tiles roughly. Hawks closes his eyes again, sending a few more feathers out. The man, if he is real, will take this path if he is using the alleyway as an escape. There are no other routes available to him.

He’s still attuned to his scattered feathers when he hears the cat hiss at him. His eyes open and he sees the animal. It’s a black cat.

It’s across the street, lingering in an open window, its back arched and its fur standing on end. Hawks narrows his eyes at the aggressive display. There are way too many cats on this island.

As he and the cat continue to engage in their silent staring contest, he hears a scritching sound coming from the street below. Hawks follows the noise, leaning over the edge of the rooftop. A child is playing below. She is sketching something into the concrete with bits of multicolored chalk.

It looks like...huh?

It looks like some kind of cart, but, why...why is it on fire? She is busy tracing the licking flames, a yellow piece of chalk clutched in her small fist. She’s humming a mindless song. It sounds like some kind of dirge. It’s soft and melancholic, following a minor tune. A shiver creeps up Hawks’ spine, but he ignores the pebbling of his skin, shaking his head.

Curious, Hawks wheels down, tapping along the street. He keeps a little ways away from the girl, he’s not wanting to startle her. His long fingers reach behind him, into his utility pocket that sits on his belt. He tugs out a small sticker sheet. He always keeps little trinkets in his pockets. It takes real effort to put people at ease and Hawks prides himself on his ability to steadfastly maintain that part of his image. He kneels on his haunches, dropping himself to a friendlier level before calling out to the little girl.

“Hey! That’s a pretty picture.” His voice is all light and honey and he has a bright smile on his face.

“Oh!” the little girl chirps, beaming her own grin back at him. “Thank you!”

“Tell me about your drawing.”

“It’s a Kasha.”

“Hmm, I don’t know what a Kasha is. Can you tell me about the Kasha?”

“They come to take away bad people.” The little girl replies, going back to her sketch, perfecting her lines and colors.

“Oh! There’s a kitty in your drawing. Is the kitty a Kasha too?” Hawks asks, noticing the calico cat that’s attached to the handles on the front of the cart. It looks angry, vengeful. Strange for a kiddo to draw something so eerie.

“That’s the spirit of the nekomata, silly. Don’t you know anything?”

“Haha,” Hawks laughs, a genuine sound that makes him throw his head back, his hand bashfully scratching the back of his head. “Guess I don’t, huh? Do you like to draw...ghosts?”

“Not really. If I draw them they won’t-”

A distant voice is calling out a name. It’s female and coming from a house a few feet away, no doubt the girl’s mother or sister. The little girl calls back.

“Coming mama! I gotta go, mister.”

“Here,” Hawks begins, detaching a smaller feather and drifting the little set of stickers over to the girl’s chubby hands. “Thank you for answering my questions,” he smiles. She coos and snatches the sparkly sheet, the sunlight catches the glitter that adorns the stickers. He tickles her cheek with his detached feather and she laughs.

Her mother calls again and she starts to run off, her yellow shoes pounding on the street. Belatedly, she pauses before rounding the corner and bows low, a quick thank you slipping from her mouth. He waves back and smiles as she walks into her home, the door clicking behind her. Once he’s alone in the alleyway his grin drops and he stands, looking down at her drawing.

It’s so freaking odd. Sure, sure, these cases are in the news. But the drawing looks...familiar somehow.

Oh, that’s why.

That man he interviewed, the one connected to the congressmen, had drawn something similar. Even then, back in that dark interrogation room, the strange figures looked like something he’d seen before, but where?

That nagging feeling is back. It pulls at the back of his mind. What is going on?

Hawks pulls out a small notepad and replicates the girl’s drawing, noting the colors and positions of the nekomata. As he sketches, his wings arc above his head, lifting and lowering meditatively.

******

He comes back to the police precinct, his hands tucked deeply into his pockets. As he walks toward the chief’s office he runs into Amano. He’s the elder of his two assigned heroes and a font of knowledge about the island and its inhabitants. Maybe he’ll know something more about this doodle that keeps cropping up.

“Hey, Amano, you seen any weird drawings around town? Or, at the crime scenes maybe?”

“Weird? Like how?”

Hawks pulls out his notepad, flipping to the page with his sketch of the cat pushing the burning cart. Amano chortles, one gloved hand coming to cover his mirth.

“What is that? It looks terrible.”

“I’m not much of an artist, I'll give you that one. In my defense, it’s based on a kid's drawing, so cut me some slack here, man. She said it was supposed to be a kasha and a nekomata?”

“Oh! Yeah, I can kinda see that now. I know what those are. According to legend, kasha appear during rainstorms. They steal corpses out of their coffins. Some of the older folks say they collect the souls of the damned. You can’t get the souls back if the kasha get them, they’re taken to hell, or eaten, depending on what version of the story you’re listening to.

I mean, they’re all just old wives tales. We used to tell them on camping trips. They’re bedtime stories, something to scare kids into being good. Ooo, misbehave and you’ll get taken to hell.

Eh, that feels kinda strong when I say it outloud, hopefully people don’t tell their kids stuff like that. Anyway, it’s not real.” Amano pauses, his head tilting at Hawks’ serious expression. “Isn’t it a little early to be getting into ghost stories? It’s summertime. Besides...”

Hawks tugs his phone out of his jacket pocket, flicking through the crime scene photos as Amano elaborates on how ridiculous this ghoulish conversation is. Normally, Hawks would agree, but there’s got to be...oh...OH.

There it is.

His finger stills over the glass of his phone. It’s tiny, basically a scrawl, but it’s there. He flicks through some of the other photos, swiping through the different locations, searching. Ah-ha! Again, there’s that scrawl. This time, it’s almost cropped out of the photo. Still, there are two crime scenes with the scrawling of chalk.

It’s a tiny drawing, so tiny he looked right over it originally, but now that he knows what he’s looking for, it’s there, plain as day. It’s a drawing of a tiny cart with a cat pulling the handles, lugging the wheels forward.

Amano is still talking when Hawks looks back up. Hawks butts into his elaborations, not caring that he’s interrupting the man.

“Ok, so they take evil doers away? Spooky. Question for you. You got any theories on why it’s cropping up all over town?” Hawks lifts the phone to Amano’s face. Amano takes the device and examines the strange markings, his brow creases, but he hands Hawks his phone back with a small smirk on his lips.

“It’s just talk, man. People do all sorts of superstitious things around here. Don’t look too hard into it. You believe what you want to, I don’t know. If that makes sense. Like those old sayings: ‘Don’t clip your nails before bed’. ‘No whistling at night’. It’s just something to say.

Superstitions are weird like that. Kinda like why you don’t have a fourth floor in a hospital. The number four looks like the word for death when you write it out. It’s bad form. It’s asking for trouble. So, don’t put a fourth floor, and boom, no problems with death.”

Hawks hums at Amano’s explanation. Ok, that superstition about the fourth floor, yeah, that one he had heard about. Amano claps a hand on Hawks shoulder and tells him he’s going to call a few more witnesses in. Hawks nods distantly, his mind whirring, processing. Despite Amano’s assurances, something still feels off.

******

He’s got a night shift.

It’s only for one evening, so it shouldn't fuck up his sleep schedule too much. Hawks has already decided that he’s going to circle back to all of the crime scenes. He’s not used to being out of the loop, or being the one that people are looking at quizzically.

He’d shown the drawings to the head investigator and the man had given him a blank look before asking Hawks if he needed some time off from the case. If he’d been asked that question a few days later, Hawks might have taken him up on the offer.

It’s been five days since he had that dream, but he’s still seeing that man. He’s determined to haunt him, to flit on the side of Hawks’ vision, drifting around like a dead leaf in a breeze.

He saw him at a bus stop the other evening. His dark hair was plastered to his face, burnt skin sloughing off his shoulders. He looked like a walking horror and Hawks had brought himself to an abrupt stop, staring at the figure below. The bus pulled up to the stop seconds after, the sleek metal shielding the man from view. By the time Hawks lifted himself higher, the man was gone.

He saw him in windows, peering sightlessly out of the glass. He spied the man walking home from the train, trailing long streams of ash and smoke behind him. He never makes any sound. He’s not alive, so why would he? He had spoken to him in his dream, called his name, but after that? There was nothing.

The vacancy of his presence is what startles Hawks the most.

There’s nothing to feel, nothing to sense. It’s just this vast, blank, emptiness. For someone with a quirk like his, it’s deeply unsettling. Hawks’ life revolves around his ability to sense, to feel. The plight of the dead man makes his chest hurt with its loneliness and abject barrenness. Is that what it’s like to die? You drift into this void, alone? He doesn’t seem to have anywhere to go. Is this his routine? Is he trapped in an endless loop, playing out his final movements? How long does he have to participate in this charade? Is this some kind of purgatory for him?

Distracted by his thoughts, Hawks spots a different man down a dark street as he flies overhead. It looks like he’s pushing a creaking wheelbarrow. Wait. A wheelbarrow? He looks again, wheeling back through the night sky, but there’s no one there now. No, the street is desolate, not even the gleam of the moon can brighten the winding sidewalks.

Is this really a ghost? Do these visions even exist? Hawks has never given the topic of the paranormal much thought. It’s always been an outlier, untrue, and untested. A pseudoscience. Well, ghosts or not, whatever is going on, Hawks needs some rest.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully and Hawks collapses onto his bed, drifting to sleep as soon as his golden head hits the pillows.

******

After a goodnight’s sleep, it does get a little easier.

He feels like his mind has cleared, the cobwebs brushed to one side, for now. Despite the clarity, he’s still seeing something. The man hasn’t gone away. No, even the daylight sun isn’t able to banish him. He saw him in his hotel lobby this morning, waiting for an elevator. By the time Hawks zoomed over, he was gone, the only evidence of his presence is the rising numbers on the illuminated floor panel, clicking up, toward the 4th floor.

That night, while getting a late night coffee, Hawks, long since given up his avoidance of caffeine in the evenings, spies something a little more sinister. As he’s paying the friendly barista, he notices someone lugging something across the road. It looks like it’s heavy, dragging against the street. They’re struggling to hoist it and it’s looking more and more like a body to Hawks’ frazzled nerves. He can’t be sure if it’s the specter that’s been lurking after him, but he’s not taking any chances. Again, Hawks is fast, but it’s not his speed that’s letting him down here.

Each and every time, there’s just nothing there.

Is he freaking haunted now? Is that a thing? That crazy dream hasn’t returned, so that’s one, fleeting, plus. Wait. Does thinking about the paranormal bring it into existence? Is that how ghosts work? Ugh, if he’s going to be plagued, he might as well read up on this shit. What the fuck is going on? Is it the town? Is it the pressure of this case? Is it him?

As he takes himself, and his coffee, up to his hotel room, he ponders the strange predicament he’s landed himself in. He can’t fit all the pieces together. It’s too strange, too abnormal. He wants to lay down, try to get a little sleep. But, a hero's work is never done. He’s got another report to type up and another set of interviews to schedule.

As he sits at the small desk that faces the window, he hears a strange cawing. It sounds close, almost like it’s right outside the glass. It’s not the call of a seagull, no, it’s that crow again. But, crows aren’t indigenous to the island. He’d looked them up after that discussion on the wharf. No crows have been spotted on the island in over 50 years. The last known specimen was an old bird, living in the Miyako zoo. It died over 3 years ago.

Hawks pulls himself to his feet, scraping the chair legs against the floor. He opens the window and pokes his head outside. He can smell the salty aroma of the sea. It tickles his nose and makes him take a big inhale of air, filling his lungs with the crisp aroma. The crow can still be heard, shrieking into the night. There’s a soft, familiar, beating of wings, too. He cranes his head, scanning the blackness, his wings are lifted as well, but there’s no bird. Per usual, there’s no movement, and no creature is flapping its way into the night sky.

He closes the window and the cawing echoes to the other side of the room before fading away. Annoyed, he takes a sip of his coffee. Hopefully that’s the last he’ll hear of it. He’s got enough ghosts fucking with him, thank you very much, he’s not wanting to add a disembodied crow to the role call.

******

The next morning Hawks is on a patrol.

The murder cases have stagnated again. While this, on the whole, is good news, simply because there are no new bodies, he still can’t get that damned drawing off his mind. It feels like things are slipping away from him, pulling out with the tide and into the vast realm of the dreaded: unsolved cold case.

He’s frustrated, no, he’s not frustrated, he’s pissed.

He feels like he’s letting the whole town down. He’d been called out here to do a job, but what good has he really been? Sure, the townsfolk are weird, the police chief is an ass and the lead detective pretty much has Hawks written off as a conspiracy theorist nut, but he was sent here to do a job. He’s good at sniffing things out. He’s good at being a hero. He’s not good at waiting, and that’s all this case has turned into, one long stint of stagnation and thumb twiddling.

Hawks glides across the bright sky, the sun reflecting warmly on his ruby red feathers. His eyes and wings are alert, feeling for any disturbances. He’s rounding onto the main street when he sees him.

It’s a living, breathing man. Hawks can feel his heartbeat, it’s pounding against the man’s breastbone. Only problem is, he shouldn’t be in the realm of the living.

The 9th victim ducks into a large bank, his familiar dark hair gleaming in the sun.

Hawks maneuvers to land immediately, his wings tucking against his back and dropping him to the earth at an alarming speed. He startles the small huddle of pedestrians on the sidewalk, but he’s too intent on catching his quarry to smooth any ruffled feathers. He races up the steps of the bank, one broad, gloved hand yanking the glass door open.

There he is. He’s talking with someone. Hawks can almost hear what he’s saying, he just needs to get closer…

“Sir? Can I help you?”

It’s a bank employee. He’s wearing a crisp blue suit and his eyes are wide behind his horn-rimmed glasses. Hawks pauses at his question, then slides past him, but it looks like it was just enough time for the 9th victim to evade him. He’s walking now, disappearing from view, stepping down a back hallway. It looks like he’s following someone…

Hawks turns back to the bank employee, his wings vibrating with annoyance and impatience. “I need to talk with that man, he’s wanted in a murder investigation. My name is Hawks, my hero number is-”

“Oh, I know who you are. O-of course, please, do what you need to d-”

The bank employee’s voice fades as Hawks lifts himself, pulling over the heads of the people waiting in the lobby. A few feathers dash out, feeling, searching.

Where did he go?

Hawks reaches the hallway in record time, his wings folding as he paces over the marble flooring. There’s not much back here, but it does lead to a large, closed vault. Damn it all.

“Sir, sir, SIR! Can we help you? I am the bank manager. You’re not permitted to be back-”

“Sure, you can help me. I need access to this vault. There’s a man, you can check your security cameras, he just walked-”

“I do not have access to the vault. You will need to make a formal-”

“Whaddya’ mean, “you don’t have access”? Then find someone who does. Two men just...Damn it…”

Hawks phone is ringing, he tries to ignore it, but it persists, vibrating and chiming against his leg. The bank manager is bristling, his mustache quivering as he babbles on about warrants, and how heroes can’t act like cops. It doesn’t matter if Hawks is the number three, he can’t ignore protocol. He needs to come back with a warrant, or get out…

His phone’s ringtone continues to slice through the tense air and Hawks, after the 9th, exasperating, ring, lifts it out of his pocket, glancing at the caller ID: it’s the HPSC. Fuck. He accepts the call on a final, shrill note.

“Hawks, here.”

“You need to come back...there’s been...All Might...Kamino...attack…”

An intermittent static keeps breaking over the phone line. It’s a crackling sound, snapping and rustling, it makes his skin crawl. It almost sounds like someone is whispering something, just below the faint hissing. “What? The line is breaking up-” Hawks lifts the phone, ah, there’s no bars in here.

The bank manager is still carrying on, heedless of Hawks’ inattention. “And so, I am within my rights to ask you to-”

“I’m going to need you to wait here and don’t move. Yeah, yeah, sure thing buddy, I don’t have a warrant, but I can make things pretty rough for you if you don’t do as I say. You don’t want to be involved in this case, believe me. Now, do what I asked and stay here.”

Lifting his wings, he flies across the lobby again, swiping a quick text to the police chief, if they hurry they might be able to catch this un-dead, dead guy. He jets himself onto the sidewalk, scattering a gaggle of beach goers.

As he re-dials the HPSC’s number he hears it again. It’s the call of that crow. It startles him and he almost doesn’t lift the dialing phone to his ear. God, this has gotta stop. He scans the sky for any physical sign of the screeching bird. It’s close, cawing and shrieking into the wind. It’s different from the other calls it’s made. It sounds angry, desperate, trying to reach him...trying to tell him something...

The line picks up and a voice repeats the familiar greeting of the HPSC.

“HAWKS, here,” he says, vexed, eyes scanning, looking for the disembodied crow.

The person on the other end asks for him to hold, and a few seconds later the head of the HPSC is answering, her soft voice both grating and reassuring to Hawks.

“Hawks. You need to return to Tokyo, immediately. All Might has been attacked by All for One. There are developments that we cannot discuss over the phone. Leave whatever intel you’ve gathered for the Miyako police chief and get back here. This is a national emergency. We need all hands. I don’t need to tell you, but the implications of this are dire. Hero society as we know it will be forever changed. I repeat, drop whatever you’re doing and get back to headquarters.”

The line clicks and that static sound rises again. There’s a garbling, muttering sound that’s rising from the hiss. It’s saying his name. KeigoTakamiKeigoTakamiKeigoTakami.

Then, all is silent. The voice is gone, the cawing is gone. A deep feeling of dread washes over him. It makes his feathers flair, plumage spreading and flexing. All around him, voices are chatting, laughing, living. They have no idea, blissful in their ignorance. Everything is, no, nothing is ever going to be the same again. God, All Might. If he can’t recover, if he dies...

Hawks lowers the phone, his eyes wide. Suddenly, all these ghosts of his don’t feel so important now.

Notes: @hawksweek2020

Beta edited by @albinoburrito

44 notes · View notes

quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH89

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 89: Castle Cry (XVI)

This absurd and bloody scene shocked the three people. At least, Qi Leren had been stunned. He had witnessed death before, but such a tragic and shocking way of dying still made him feel scared. It took a good half-day to realize that he should do something.

He took a step forward, stopped again, and looked back at Su He.

Su He looked at the tragedy on the far away landing, and his eyebrows were slightly frowned. When he saw Qi Leren looking at him, he also stepped forward: "Go and see."

Qi Leren finally steeled himself and walked boldly to the stairs. In the dark light, Nan Lu, who was kneeling in a pool of blood, hugged Xiao Hong, who was only half left. The tears mixed with his blood that soiled her beautiful dress. She muttered: "You’re mine... It’s mine..."

When Qi Leren stepped on the first set of stairs, a hound barked on the stairs to the second floor. He suddenly looked up. The burnt hound slowly came down the stairs and stood beside Nan Lu, barking at them.

South Lu seemed to wake up with a start. She picked up the body on the ground and ran for her life towards the stairs above. The half of Xiao Hong's body was like a blood bag, with blood streaming, dragging out shocking blood on the ground.

The hound crouched beside the blood pool that looked like it was from a slaughterhouse, showing its dense teeth to them. It wasn’t until Nan Lu disappeared from the top of the stairs that it walked back slowly, ignoring them.

"Is that the dog you met before?" Dr. Lu asked from behind the two people.

"Hmm... but this time it didn't attack us?" Qi Leren said in confusion.

"This must be the result of two EX-lucks saving an E-luck," Dr. Lu spoke out.

Unable to refute, Qi Leren rolled his eyes.

Su He squatted down beside the pool of blood and looked at the scattered internal organs on the ground for a while. "Did you see how the NPC's body was divided into two just now? It stands to reason that two people pulling him at most could cause his arm to break. It’s impossible to have such a clean tear."

"I only saw a flash of lightning outside the window, and Xiao Hong became two halves. I didn't see anything else," Qi Leren said.

"Looks like they didn’t accomplish cutting their legs, but were instead struck by lightning. When those girls said they’d tear it apart, they meant it, not at all being vague," Dr. Lu told a cold joke.

"It’s probably that the Devil's power has infected the two NPCs, so they have abnormal strength and abilities. I’m afraid the inside story of this copy isn’t simple," Su He said, standing up.

"Devil's power?" Dr. Lu muttered. Qi Leren hadn't told him about being parasitized, so he didn't know anything about the Devil’s power.

"A kind of energy related to the Devil, I and Qi Leren can perceive some. At present, this copy should be inseparable from the Devil," Su He said and looked up at the upper stairs. "Let’s go up and have a look. Listen to their footsteps. They should be on the third floor. Have you been to the third floor yet?"

Both of them shook their heads. It was dangerous to go anywhere in the castle. In addition, the space was too large, and it wasn’t easy to collect clues. The two men had circled on the first and second floors.

"Before, you said that there is a key to the second floor. There should be no nursery on the second floor?" Su He asked.

"No, the nursery is probably on the third floor. We didn't plan to go deep into the story before, so we didn't go to the nursery," Qi Leren said.

"If you want to go, you have to find the key. I’m good at this," Dr. Lu said proudly.

Su He nodded and said to Qi Leren, "It’s very likely that you’ll meet the dog before you go up. How are you going to deal with it?"

Qi Leren looked at Su He's concerned eyes and silently swallowed the words "just do it or not": "I brought three miniature bombs, and now there are two left, so I should be able to kill the dog."

"If you’re not sure, let's go to the piano room on the second floor to get the dog collar. If my guess is correct, picking it up will attract the dog, and you can set traps to deal with it in advance." Su He expressed his speculation according to the previous experience Qi Leren had.

Qi Leren nodded eagerly, completely ignoring the way.

Before he could speak, there was a sharp barking sound over his head, which mingled with the sound of metal crashing, rumbling. The three men looked up, just in time to see the charred hound being hit by something, and fell hard on the landing of the second floor. The sound of clanging came, and Qi Leren whispered: "It's that armor!"

"It's not a monster in this world?!” Lu doctor cried in a low voice.

"Armor can't be easily burned, so it’s normal for it to appear in the outer world after the fire," Su He said.

The hound shot up again, barking and rushing at the armour, which swung an iron fist without a sword, and beat it to the ground again. The hound fell to the ground and rolled, making a whoop of a scream.

"Redmond, come back, Redmond!" From the third floor, there came Nan Lu’s cry. The hound barely climbed up from the ground before it ran in the direction of the voice.

The armor stood on the stairs, the heavy metal body was as tall as a mountain, and the heavy oppressive feeling was even greater than that in this world.

It moved!

With a deafening sound, the armor ran down the stairs with a long sword! Every step on the worn wooden stairs brought a tremor to the ground.

"Oh my god, it's coming down!" Dr. Lu whined and rushed to run.

Qi Leren was a little panicked, as he met this armor without psychological preparation. What can I do now? Use miniature bombs?

The armor came down very fast, and it was already on the platform almost in the blink of an eye. When Qi Leren's S/L skill was used to beat the crazy lady in the basement - although he didn't load the file after using it - he still had the Easter egg in hand, but this rare resurrection prop was meant to be used as a last resort for when your hand reached the bottom of the box.

Fight!

Qi Leren was ready to take out the iron rod from his inventory and fight the resurrected armor, but before he could come forward, Su He suddenly threw something and said, "Take it!"

Qi Leren reached out and grabbed it. It was a rope. He looked at Su He and suddenly understood what he wanted to do.

The armor running down the stairs was getting closer and closer. Qi Leren and Su He each took one end of the rope, quickly distanced themselves from each other, and crouched down on both sides of the stairs in a posture that was ready for retreat. Dr. Lu stood blankly at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly realizing that he should run away, and turned to run down the stairs.

The armor is very fast, and when it came to the rope, it was too late for it to brake. The rope that was not as high as its knee tripped it perfectly. The heavy armor fell down under the momentum, and its strength was so great that it almost made the coarse hemp rope in Qi Leren’s hands slip.

The armor that fell down the stairs made a heavy noise. At the moment when the body touched the ground, its helmet, gauntlets, and sword all fell out and turned into separate metal parts, which were scattered all over the floor. What was shocking was that with the separation of the armor, broken bones were revealed inside the armor, which were obviously a skeleton.

Dr. Lu, who squatted on the ground with his head in his arms, opened his mouth wide: "Can you still play like this? This is too easy."

Su He slowly put away the rope: "It was worth a try."

Qi Leren had a bit of recollection: "What if it reacted quickly and didn't trip? Or tripped and it didn't fall apart? What if the skeleton inside comes alive?"

Su He smiled mysteriously. After letting it hang in suspense, he said slowly, "Then run."

Qi Leren: "..."

Dr. Lu: "..."

"But this task is D-level difficulty. Even with the interference of demon power and the true ending route, the difficulty will not exceed B-level at most. Under this difficulty, monsters other than the boss will not be too difficult to deal with, or there are opportunistic methods. As long as you respond quickly and observe keenly." After appreciating their ever-changing expressions, Su He gave a reasonable explanation.

Qi Leren agreed and nodded. It was even more difficult to figure out a way to deal with the armor in the heat of the moment. Su He was rich in experience, so he could solve monsters with the simplest props and terrain. He was an elder player from the Village of Dusk. Even if he didn't use the skill card, dealing with this difficult a task was a simple matter.

"This skeleton is a bit interesting..." Su He stood on the stairs and looked at the skeleton that had fallen on the ground and become shattered, showing an interested look.

"Look what I found!" Dr. Lu suddenly cried joyfully, having found a bunch of keys from the pile of metal parts and skeleton fragments on the ground, and shook them excitedly.

"It should be the keys to the third floor. Well done," Su He praised him. The light here was too dark, and he hadn't noticed the ring of keys hidden in the armor.

Dr. Lu ran up with the key and handed them to Su He.

Qi Leren was no stranger to his companion's talent in finding things. Instead, he had doubts about this armor: "Su He, why do you think this armor fought with that dog just now?"

Su He rubbed the keys in his hands, hesitated and said, "I have a theory. At present, the NPCs and monsters that have appeared in this castle are as follows: four drama characters, the maid Nina, the crazy lady boss, the active armor, the burnt hound, white bones, and skeletons. Bones and skeletons are undoubtedly the former servants of this castle, with the weakest strength and no intelligence. They should be controlled by the will of the crazy lady, and attack all creatures that enter their sphere of influence. The burnt hound is also controlled by the crazy lady - now it should be controlled by Nan Lu. She called it away just now. But the skeleton in the armor, it is obviously not controlled by the crazy lady. So there is the question: who is it?"

Dr. Lu jokingly said: "It’s probably a self-motivated skeleton. It felt that wearing clothes is too mainstream, so it had to wear armor. It immediately evolved from white bones to an armor skeleton, became an elite monster, and then rebelled."

Su He: "..."

Qi Leren: "..."

Qi Leren leaned against the handrail of the stairs and pondered: "According to what you said, would the skull and bones in this armor be the male host Johann?"

Su He nodded with a smile: "Your idea coincides with mine. Imagine that when the crazy lady was killing people everywhere, the male host John might hide in the armor because of fear. As a result, the crazy lady couldn't find him and set fire to the castle. He was burned to death before he could escape, so he became such a monster. Armor, as an ornament, should represent men in a symbolic sense, and it also means strength and power, so he preferred this identity. The armor is the will of the male owner. In this case, it’s understandable that it would be at conflict with the hound, because the hound Redmond guards the crazy lady."

Dr. Lu snorted twice: "It seems that this couple is still turning against each other."

"I'm afraid this is inevitable," Su He sighed.

"Why?" Qi Leren asked.

"In fact, I can see from their names. Johann's letter to Dr. Flajser has his signature. His name is Johann Sebastian Wolff. Mrs. Sarah's full name was given by Luo Xueyi just now. Her name is Sarah von Wolff. There is a 'von' in Mrs. Sarah's last name, which is a symbol of noble birth in Germany. If Mr. Johann was a noble, he would never miss this word when signing his name, so he is probably not of noble birth. This task has never mentioned what title he had. On the contrary, this Mrs. Sarah must be a big noble," Su He analyzed. "Johann's diary mentioned that she didn't want to live in the city after she came here, but built a castle. This castle was paid for by her. She should be a very rich lady due to inherit a lot of property."

"Wow, the silk is soaked in Bai Fumei's inspirational story, but unfortunately Bai Fumei has mental illness." Lu doctor immediately extrapolated from the conspiracy theory to guess, "He knew Mrs. Sarah had a family genetic mental illness, but still married her, this is either true love or for money. When doing business in China during the war, it was difficult to hide from people's eyes and ears, so did he come here to make a fortune from her legacy? "

"This possibility isn’t ruled out," Su He said. "If Mrs. Sarah had no mental illness inherited from her family, I’m afraid that her family would not easily have agreed to this marriage."

Qi Leren couldn't help recalling the crazy behavior and shouting of the crazy lady in the basement.

There was still a copper frame on the wall of the landing, which was illuminated by lightning again and again in this stormy night. He remembered that in this portrait of the inner world, she held her dog and snuggled up to her handsome and elegant husband. Her smile was full of happiness, and her husband also looked at her gently, loving and tender.

It was a wonderful time that they wished to go back to, to witness that they once loved each other.

-----

Editor’s Notes: Dr. Lu, please stop making jokes that don’t translate well, I’m trying my best...

I’m going to be taking a one week hiatus from posting. Long story short, I’ve been overloading myself recently and have fallen behind on several projects, this one included. Updates will resume as normal on Saturday Jan 16th. Thank you for your understanding :)

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Taking in the sights of Golden City

The Golden City sure is bright! Everything about it is so fascinating - the architecture, the roads, the trees - the place doesn't seem real. From traveling via whale taxi to the floating buildings and crystalline gazebos, it's no wonder Golden City is on top of many people's must see places before they die - mine included.

Seeing that Golden City seems to be in a world of its own, I never expected to run across a familiar face there - especially one who's currently in the process of renovating an old building to turn into her very own company. I've heard rumors but to see it actually happen - it seems so unreal.

Who would've thought that Ginko Okabe, director of a big marketing company, would start her own thing? And her business partner happens to be Benji Yoshino, a big hotshot tech genius. They crossed paths when Benji met up with the higher ups at Ginko's old workplace and at the time he happened to be acquainted with Manaka. Throw in Shiran then you've got three unlikely people who somehow ended up being friends with such a high profile figure.

Ginko's been super busy with the move from the metropolitan, strictly business city of Hailstorm Bay to the glowing, almost otherworldly place of Golden City. Now that her apartment's all set, the next step is getting the office building ready. So she and her friends have been busy with that for the past week.

With things moving smoothly, Ginko figured that they could all use a break. After all, it's not easy taking an hour long train to Golden City after a 9 to 5 shift to help clean up an old building as well as move furniture. She didn't expect her former coworkers to step up like that but they wouldn't let her hire a bunch of strangers to put her office together. With her giving them an opportunity to leave their monotonous, unfulfilling, (and sometimes toxic) work environment to be a part of her team, doing the heavy lifting was their way of thanking her.

Before heading out to meet up with Benji and Shiran, Ginko gave us a tour of the office. It's one thing to see snippets of the renovation on social media, it's another to see how much progress has been made in a week. What was once an old, run down building will soon be bustling with activity.

After seeing the office, we headed to the cafe and caught up with Benji and Shiran. They've been dating for a while but it wasn't until recently they were open about it. We all kinda suspected it so it wasn't a surprise when they made it official. First Manaka, now Shiran, what is it about diligent working class accountants that would draw in a wealthy, head in the clouds, tech genius like Benji?

How the former accountant and the eccentric millionaire came to be together is one of those stories where it all came down to chance. Benji first met Manaka through skydiving classes. Then they ran into each other again by chance on the streets around the same time he was installing a new security system for the company. Eventually word got out about their relationship, forcing Manaka to lay low for a while - which is partly why he and Shiran kept things under wraps for a long time. While they got along well, they didn't always meet eye to eye, especially about their futures. Manaka wanted stability while Benji jumped from one thing to another - it wasn't meant to be.

Running into Shiran was also a chance encounter. Shiran was interested in Manaka but the feeling wasn't mutual. The two met in college and ended up working in the same place, but aside from the office, they rarely saw each other outside of that. It took a while but Shiran was able to accept that while he and Manaka grew to become good friends, a romance wasn't in the cards for them.

Shiran and Benji literally bumped into each other on the streets and from there an unlikely friendship came about. Shiran was in awe of Benji at first because of his achievements, then slightly jealous when he found out he was dating Manaka, and then cool with him after the mutual breakup. Ginko was surprised to find them causally hanging out together. Soon the duo became a trio.

Things haven't been the same since Manaka's death. A series of workplace safety violations resulted in an explosion that injured many, even killing a few. Manaka, Shiran, and three other people were trapped in the basement, which was on the verge of collapsing, complicating the rescue. All five were rescued and taken to the hospital, where Manaka later died of her injuries. It happened suddenly, totally unexpected as she was fully conscious, alert, and walking when they found her.

Shiran fell into a deep depression for a while, leading to other problems. Ginko struggled a lot too but did her best to not let that affect her work. She later admitted that trying to do damage control over what happened was the hardest thing she ever did, one that made her completely disillusioned with the company. Benji, Ami and Karrie were grieving as well but kept a brave face in public.

Benji was the one who helped Shiran get back on his feet. He said that his biggest regret was not reaching out to Manaka after the breakup. While they were cool with each other and wanted to stay friends, they didn't do a good job of keeping in contact. Benji was out of town when the explosion happened and flew in as soon as he heard, planning to visit Manaka and Shiran at the hospital the next morning.

Just when all of that was behind them, an investigation of Manaka's death reopened the pain and grief for all of them. Apparently the doctor who treated her is on trial as several of his patients have died due to negligence in the past few years. In other words, the deaths of Manaka and many others could've been easily prevented if they had proper medical care. It's already bad enough that she died in a freak accident that shouldn't have happened, and now we find out that her death could've been avoided all together.

Just thinking about all that - damn. Manaka was sweet and spunky, a bit on the obedient and passive side, but always one to go out and try new things. I never understood why she always got the short end of the stick at work - and she certainly never deserved to have her life cut so short like this. Whenever I think about her, I can't help but wonder why the universe can be so unfair at times.

So with the thing going on with the doctor, people are being questioned and such, like Manaka's parents and Shiran for example. Thankfully Shiran doesn't have to testify or anything but the whole thing brought back painful memories for everyone. Shiran admitted that he's still a bit shaken up but he'll be fine. Benji's been like a rock for him, which is good.

Ginko said that since [redacted], Benji has come down to earth, or so others like to say. He's still got his head in the clouds, though no longer floating aimlessly in the sky - Manaka gave him some much needed perspective. He may be an eccentric billionaire with too much free time on his hands who is constantly daydreaming, but when he wants to make an effort, to make a change, to help a friend, he gives it his all.

It's clear how much he still loves Manaka, how she helped him shape up after spending most of his time doing whatever without much of a care. It's also clear how much he loves Shiran - the dedication it took to get him out of a bad place, he didn't have to put himself out there but he chose to. And from what I heard, it was a rough time all around - blackouts, alcohol, sleepless nights, listlessness, apathy - a continuous downward spiral for Shiran.

Since everyone was so busy with the move, Ginko and the guys didn't really have the chance to really explore Golden City. So I figured that now's a good time since we're all here and can experience the wonders of the city together.

First of all, riding the whale taxis is like floating on a cloud. We can choose to have our taxi act as a tour guide - which we did - and that made things a lot more fun! With public transportation as reliable and entertaining as this, who needs to spend extra money on cars? Our whale taxi was so sweet and informative - I can easily spend a day listening to them ramble on about Golden City - not that we haven't already! Because we enjoyed the tour so much, Benji had us booked with them for tomorrow so we have that to look forward to.

The floating gazebos are a must see in Golden City according to many reviews. Made from the finest environmentally safe materials, these gazebos were all built by hand, created to be enjoyed by all, whether it's to appreciate the architecture, hang out with friends, have some time to yourself or to gaze into the horizon. I think my favorite is the Prosperity Cliff gazebo, which overlooks the ocean, giving you a clear view of the mountains and islands. Prosperity Cliff isn't as busy this time of year because it's kinda chilly so it's nice to have the place to ourselves.

Maybe someday when we make another trip during the fall or spring we can take a trip up to the mountains. We probably won't be able to go far since it's kinda rough up there but I've heard there's some good spots for a picnic, a short hike, and maybe a swim depending on the time of day.

Of course, in between sightseeing and shopping we stopped by to enjoy the local cuisine. There's a lot of Japanese fusion places - including a Japanese-Cambodian one, which is one of Ginko's go-to restaurants for takeout because the sushi is top notch along with the soups - so that was an adventure as well!

Our plan was to get back to the hotel by eleven but of course we got distracted and spent an hour at the park watching the fireworks show. Shiran ended up missing the last train, though it's not a big deal as he usually crashes at Benji's place. By the time Daisy Jane and I got back to the hotel it was past one, which isn't too late by our standards. Good thing we won't be meeting up with the others until eleven tomorrow as that's morning for all of us.

Totally looking forward to more sights and wonders to enjoy tomorrow!

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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overthinkingkdrama · 4 years

Note

Please tell us more about your theories about My Country, I'd love to read more of your thoughts on it

Fool! You’ve just activated my trap card!

Lol, thank you so for asking. I was really hoping somebody would. Every molecule in my body is telling me to dissolve into full blown hysterical ranting, but I’ll try to keep this concise.

So my main theory/prediction/possibly wishful thinking is this: The whole cold open scene where Seon Ho and Hwi fight to death that we’re meant to believe all this these machinations are leading up to is a work. It’s a set up. It’s not real.

This is largely based on a couple different little details from the opening scene itself and the events of episode 9, which have convinced me that there is simply no way that Seon Ho, after everything that has happened and especially in light of Yeon’s death, would possibly swallow his need for retribution and revenge and continue to work on his father’s side in hopes of eventually gaining enough power to kill the old man himself. I just can’t accept that that’s what’s happening.

I think the whole set up of the drama is for us to watch, wondering how these two people end up on opposite sides and try to kill each other when they so clearly loved each other and loved Yeon, and both want Nam Jeon dead. How did that happen? How is that the conclusion they both came to? But in actuality, what we think we’re seeing in that first scene isn’t what we’re seeing.

There’s a few things we can glean from the first scene:

First, we know that Seon Ho has certainly not gotten over Yeon’s death and it is still a primary motivator for him, because he still carries her ribbon and from his oblique reference to the sins he has to pay for. Cold blooded killers who don’t care about anything but their own ambition do not talk like this.

Also, and I don’t have a really good justification for this other than a gut feeling, but the dialogue in this scene feels really artificial and on the nose. Like Hwi marching into the building and declaring that he’s there to kill Nam Jeon and then himself...

It just doesn’t seem like something he would need to declare to Seon Ho. I mean, this is somewhere around 10 years after the events of episode 9. Hwi’s stated goal has been to kill Nam Jeon for how long now? And the best plan born general and tactician Bang Won and his most trusted and cunning lieutenant could come up with after all this time was to burst into Nam Jeon’s house with a bunch of soldiers?

This is the fight they could not win without Hwi?

Why? Why is Hwi so crucial for this? Because he’s just that badass? I don’t buy that. Bang Won has plenty of skilled soldiers and what he likes about Hwi isn’t just his martial ability, it’s his fearless attitude and the way his mind works.

No, it feels like this whole showdown was orchestrated for someone else’s benefit other than the two people talking. Who the show is being put on for and to what end, I’m not really sure. Possibly Nam Jeon? Obviously we’re going to need more context for me to put all of this together, but I feel like once we have the context this whole confrontation will be cast in a totally different light.

To me the above scene feels a lot like this one:

A set of lines that were scripted ahead of time for someone else’s benefit. A show of being on opposite sides, when in fact the two are working together behind the scenes.

To me it would see like Seon Ho and Hwi should have identical goals at this point: avenge Yeon, kill Nam Jeon, and gain enough power to accomplish those two things. Seon Ho has no particular reason to be loyal to the king at this point, and he doesn’t seem to have any special affection for the crown prince. Joining hands with Bang Won would seem to be the most logical course of action. I mean, Bang Won doesn’t have any reason to like or trust Seon Ho at this point but Hwi is someone who has his ear and his trust, and having someone on the inside of the crown prince’s faction, with crucial information and nothing but ill will toward Nam Jeon, could only be beneficial for whatever Bang Won is planning. Seon Ho seems like an ideal double agent.

And this is the other thing, purely from a narrative standpoint, how would this be a satisfying climax? After all the bullshit--Nam Jeon’s cruelty, Yeon’s death, both of them thinking they’ve lost each other over and over again, 10 years of seething and grieving--the two friends never reconcile and fight their common enemy together? They end up forming up on opposite sides of a coup that they both have known for a decade was inevitable and then what? Die on each other’s swords for no reason? Or one of them does and the other one regrets it for the rest of their lives? It just doesn’t make any sense.

In episode 9 something finally snapped for Seon Ho. He’s not the person he was at the beginning of the drama anymore. Thinking he’d lost Hwi did that to him. Losing Yeon did that to him. If he ends up fighting Hwi in the end just so he can kill his father himself once he’s strong enough, nothing has changed at all. Without talking to Hwi about it even once? If that’s what happens then Bang Won’s appraisal of him in episode 10 will turn out to have been a lie, because nothing has really changed at all.

As with the build up to Hwi becoming one of Bang Won’s people through his gambit with the weapon storage, or the one leading up to Hwi shooting Bang Won in the chest with his red arrows, I get the sense they’ve skipped over quite a bit of important information during which our boys were making decisions and coming up with plans. I think (I pray) we’re going to get a wealth of flashbacks in the upcoming episodes that are going to fill in some of the gaps for these two characters in the past 6 years, and cast the information we were given in episode 10 in a new light. We still haven’t gotten this scene of Seon Ho by Hwi’s sick bed:

Seon Ho and Hwi need to have had a conversation. I want to believe...I have to believe that the two of them are now in cahoots to bring Nam Jeon down. And I’m going to keep on hoping and thinking that until I get some more solid information in one direction or the other. What would really be satisfying would be if after years of being kicked around and abused by Nam Jeon our two boys, bound by shared history and shared tragedy, decided to fight together against their common enemy, and avenge Yeon’s death using one of the convoluted, high risk plans they’re both so fond of.

Hopefully that was as entertaining to read as it was to write. (That was definitely closer to ranting than it was to being concise, lol.) Have a nice night!

Jona

#my country #my country: the new age #answered #woo do hwan #yang se jong #jang hyuk #spoilers

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ratsoh-writes · 4 years

Text

Some soft 1a headcannons

Here’s my first time trying this so please be nice !

Aoyama Yuuga:

• loves fancy snack foods whic include cheese, crackers, dried fruits, and posh chocolates.

•he’s a huge snob when it comes to hair care products, and when he found that Midoriya was using one of those three in one shampoos, he actually tried staging an intervention

•ever since he improved his naval laser, as a prank, he would carve random movie quotes on the walls and trees in UA. He hasn’t been caught yet

Ashido Mina

•has a huge lipstick collection of every color under the rainbow. One of her life goals is to get every boy in class 1a to wear her lipstick at least once. Only Bakugo remains. Tokoyami was spared due to his lack of lips

•breakdancing and hip hop are her favorite dance forms, but she also knows how to walts and ballroom dance. Aoyama makes a great practice partner

•she has to wear an acid resistant face maskwhen she has colds, and has tissues made strong enough to withstand most acids

Tsuyu Asui:

•she has at least 50+ pictures of her siblings on her phone and will call them every other evening.

•she loved fish and has a huge aquarium at home. They would help her go to sleep, but she couldn’t take it into the dorms. When the other girls of 1a found out they found her a fish themed lava lamp to put by her bedside.

•Asui is the best at braiding and styling hair. She really enjoys it and plans to keep her hair long her whole life.

Iida Tenya:

•due to orange juice powering his engines, he has a mini fridge in his room filled with nothing but orange juice. He prefers no pulp, the pulp can clog his engines over time

• on his birthday, an anonymous class member (kirishima) got him the ugliest pair of running shoes (I’m talking tye dye and cat faces). Not wanting to hurt kiri’s feelings, he started wearing them regularly and the shoes actually grew on him.

•after kirishimas present, iida bought starry night vans with matching glasses. He thinks it’s the coolest thing ever

Uraraka Ochako:

•because she didn’t have very good control over her quirk as a kid, her parents would make her wear gloves. They also taught her how to sew, write, and type with half her fingers on both hands. She’s ambidextrous.

•uraraka laughs very easily and will spit out whatever she’s drinking or chewing. Sero and kaminari constantly try to make her laugh when she’s drinking anything.

•she helps Aizawa budget for groceries every week. She’s a master at couponing

Ojiro Mashirao:

•before he got into martial arts, his mom would take him to Zumba classes with her. He’s really good at dancing because of this, but is too shy to show it off.

•he’s a creature of habit and has had the same breakfast for about 5 years now: scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese on top and a banana on the side. If he has anything different he feels off for the whole day

•ojiro has a great memory when it comes to dates. He know everyone’s birthdays and is usually to one to start organizing the parties

Kaminari Denki:

•he loves video games, especially fighting games, and is super competitive. His super smash bro’s main is princess peach and the only one to beat him so far is ojiro

•he’s also a compulsive snacker. When he got into the hero course, he switched his usual cheese puff for pomegranate seeds in a moment of health consciousness

•he’s color blind but doesn’t realize it

Kirishima Eijirou:

•hes great at barbecue. His family are big on outdoor vacations, so he learned young. His favorites are steak and mushroom skewers.

•kirishimas love language is definitely gift giving. He spends days finding his friends the perfect gift, and it’s always something real unusual or personalized. He has a secret Pinterest folder for each friend so he can keep track of thier favorite things

• he also picks people up and swings them around when he’s really excited. Shouji hates this. Satou loves it

Kouda Kouji

•he loved pastel colors, mint green is his favorite. All his school supplies are pastel, and he even has a cute mint green jar with bunnies on it to keep his pencils in

•when the dorms are quiet, kouda lets his bunny roam around. Everyone is super gentle with it, and it is considered the class mascot.

•he’s the best listener in class 1A. He knows everyone’s secrets, crushes, and insecurities. If the teachers are worrying about any of the students, they go to kouda first

Satou Rikidou

•he stress bakes when he can’t sleep. Anytime he makes extra, he’ll take it to the teachers and other classes. He’s very popular because of this

•satou is a very tactile person and loves to be touched and cuddled. His favorite time is movie night because he gets to be squished between a bunch of friends on the couch

•the only baking he spent like is lemon stuff. He cannot stand lemon bars and lemon pound cake. He loves lemonade though

Shouji mezou

•he has a very sensitive head and hates it when people touch him there. Because of this, he never puts his hair back

•shouji has the best sense of smell and taste. If you give him a smoothie, he’ll be able to tell you all the ingredients.

•besides Midoriya, shouji can lift the most out of anyone in class. His goal is to be able to bench press everyone in class before he becomes a pro

Jirou Kyouka

•her favorite kinds of music are rock, 80’s, and jazz. She can tolerate folk but hates country with a passion

•she’s also really good at poker. Only Midoriya realized it was because she could hear thier heart beats. He promised not to tell as long as she answered some of his questions about her quirk

•she also has the best eyelashes out of all the girls. She blew away any competition after momo shared her favorite mascara brand

Sero Hanta

•he loves board games. Not because he’s good at them, he just loves the drama. Nothing is more entertaining then watching the meltdowns during monopoly

•sero also has a huge collection of Pokémon cards. A lot of them were passed down from older siblings and cousins. He always buys a new pack each month

•sero always keeps a pocket knife to help cut his tape. He can do some pretty cool party tricks with it. That’s how he became friends with Bakugo

Tokoyami Fumikage

•he likes horror movies and was actually in theatre before he entered UA. He was part of stage crew and would use dark shadow to help with special effects

•he also would help make the props. He’s very good at crafts and even saves all his molted feathers for future projects. He made a dream catcher for all of his classmates

•he always wanted a pet, but if he did get one, it would never be a bird. That would be super uncomfortable and dark shadow would get jealous

Todoroki Shouto

•he’s a heathan who will put ketchup on most nice foods. This is one of the main reasons why Bakugo fights with him

•Todoroki is also a huge gossip. Every now and then, he gets together with Hagakure and Aoyama and they’ll exchange information. He’s tried getting secrets from kouda but kouda is way too loyal

•his favorite past time is people watching. He’ll usually find a nice spot at the park, and settle down with a book and lunch

Hagakure Tooru

•she loves small and cute animals, and is koudas bunny’s biggest fan. She took enough pictures of the bunny to make a calendar

•she’s a good photographer, and she’ll do family sessions and senior pictures when she needs money. Her room is filled with her own work

•she’s easily the chattiest person in 1A. When she’s stressed she’ll go to kouda and just ramble about anything until she calms down

Bakugou Katsuki

•Bakugo is a huge perfectionist in most areas including his diet. This will leak onto the people he cares about, and he’ll end up violently mother henning them around meal times. His cooking is pretty good though

•because of the nitroglycerin he’s constantly sweating, he needs to soak his clothes in a solution before he washes them. He also has to clean his room pretty often

•kaminari got the whole bakusquad animal crossing games, and now he’s hooked. It’s his favorite down time activity. He especially likes hitting the ugly villagers with his net

Midoriya Izuku

•Midoriya cries a lot and has really bad hay fever. It makes his eyes really red and watery witch makes crying a lot easier. Spring is a bad time for him

•he also has an office supply addiction. He’s constantly buying new notebooks and has dozens of unused ones piled up somewhere

•he uses his notebooks for way more than just quirk analysis. He has books for recipes, class notes, phone contacts and addresses, funny stories, life hacks, and one purely dedicated to all mights favorite foods

Mineta Minoru

•it’s funny how short he is, because his mom is actually really tall. He thinks he might have dwarfism but in the world of quirks it doesn’t really matter

•he has a bookcase in his room filled with manga. Everyone assumes it’s hentai but it’s actually every issue of dragon ball Z. Only kaminari knows

•mineta has the best math score in the class. He can calculate when and where things will fall. That’s how his traps were successful enough to get him into the hero course

Yaoyorozu Momo

•she absolutely loves hair ties, and is always ordering new ones. Her scrunchie collection is insane

•she also has the biggest appetite of the class. No one has been able to beat her in an eating contest. Kirishima really wants to test her against fatgum. Momo knows that it will only end in pain

•momo also has the best handwriting in class. When she tutors, if she can’t read what her classmates wrote, she makes them rewrite it. She also taught everyone how to write in cursive

#bnha #bnha headcanons #headcanons #class 1a #boku no hero academia

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hypexion · 4 years

Text

A Pile of Fanwalkers (Part 2)

Part two of me posting a bunch of “OCs“, since actually working out a better way to organise and present is this information is clearly too much effort. Despite the fact I’m putting what could be charitably described as an amount of work into these posts.

The basic format for each planeswalker will be a Name/Colour Identity/Pre-Ignition Typeline/Homeplane blob of information, a quickish description of them and some “fun“ facts, and then some hits and misses for extra flavour. Also, I’m going to split this into three posts - “Heroic“, “Okay“ and “Villians“, for I believe I have the moral authority to judge my creations.

Also some of these are going to be from fanplanes, which will go undescribed beyond whatever tidbits come out the character flavour. Others will just have a ?, representing a lack of knowledge and/or sufficent worldbuilding. With that out of the way, let’s go!

Okay

Not everyone is actively Heroic, and that’s okay. Generally, this lot might not want to help you out, but they’re unlikely to ruin your day just for the sake of it. Of course, some might offer to help if their skills are a match for the situation, or if they stand to benefit. And some of them might be a little rude, but they generally won’t murder you.

Ferroxi - BGU, Faerie Artificer, ? - While other fae are luring you around in circles, trapping you in an eternal sleep, or stealing your name, Ferroxi is probably rummaging through your recycling looking for useful stuff. Born on a plane piled with interplanar scrap, she learned at a young age the value in taking things apart and occationally putting them back together again. Ferroxi sees the wastefulness of other planes as her gain, and is always on the look out for anything that can be fixed up, melted down or repurposed. This doesn’t stop at the physical, either. With a bit of work, she’s managed to keep a few Infinite Consortium cells spinning, as a way to provided access to resources she’d otherwise have trouble obtaining. Ultimately, Ferroxi brings her finds back to her clan, where she is considered a peerless salvager, able to seemingly conjure resources from nothing.

Ferroxi has hair she self-describes as “rust coloured“ and brown skin. Being a Faerie, she’s just over a foot tall. But don’t underestimate her. Just because her weapon of choice looks like a sewing needle, it doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you. Of course, she also has access to all the various fae tricks, so getting into a fight with her is generally going to end her favour. Just let Ferroxi have your old lightbulbs, okay? When she planeswalkers, she disappears into a puff of rust dust. Don’t breath that! (Generally you shouldn’t breath planeswalking auras, but the metal oxides to be especially avoided.)

Hits: Recycling, Izzet technology, Moxen, white and gold bordered cards. Misses: Izzet security, large animals, things that can’t be repaired or reused.

Mazamat - UB, Human Wizard, Akkyria - For Mazamat, death is merely a setback. After each defeat she rises again, a new body forged from mana in her ziggurat. As a mortal scholar, her fame was not enough to enjoy the immortality Akkyria offered it’s most renowned. So through careful research, she discovered an alternative, a way to tie her life force to the leylines that shaped her world. She divised a ritual, and performed it to perfection. And in seeking eternal life, she found something far greater. For Mazamat was born long before The Mending. Her ignition gave her powers beyond bound. Even with a fractional of her strength sequestered as an anchor for her soul, Mazamat was a force to be reckoned with. She mastered lifetimes of magics, slew gods, and accidentally created a few highly dangerous artifacts. Unfortunately, even without meeting Urza, Mazamat was affect by his ruinous influence. The Mending weakened her. Enough that it was now the majority of her strength that anchored her to Akkyria. This made planewalking fatal. But for Mazamat, death is merely a setback. No Lich forgets their Phylactery, and Mazamat did not forget the mechanics of her undeath. While the first sucessful test walk only worked because of the Interplanar Beacon, it provided Mazamat all she needed to write a new ritual, and continue her endless study.

Often, Mazamat isn’t hard to miss. It’s difficult to ignore the walking corpse with glowing purple eyes, even you’d prefer to. She could put more effort into looking presentable, given her wide magical knowledge, but generally considers it optional. When she does wish to tidy up her appearance, she tends to appear as she did in the middle of her mortal life. In this case, she has brown skin and grey-black hair, which she ties back into a bun to get it out of the way. She also dampens the eye-glow effect, although they still take on a purple hue. Mazamat tends to dress in the classical “Robed Wizard“ look, ardorned with various magical symbols. Mazamat’s planeswalking effet is a pulse of pale blue light, occationally leaving behind short-lived inscriptions on nearby surfaces.

Hits: Mastering skills, advising adventurers (who bring the appropriate tribute), a kind of savory cake served with honey and dried fruits. Misses: Dying (it’s still not fun, even if you come back), Nicol Bolas, Urza, whoever started the rumor that flying snakes could be found near her ziggurat, because now she can’t get rid of the things, being stuck on a plane.

Pyrolas - R, Dragon, Ithmorne - Many planeswalkers are subtle. Many are careful. Pyrolas is neither, because Pyrolas is a red dragon. When presented with a problem, they consider fire and fury to be an acceptable solution. As dragons go, Pyrolas is considered implusive and quick to act. This is good for the non-dragons living with their domain, as it means Pyrolas tends to deal with problems such as bandits within a week. Meaning you might actually have a home to go back to. Pyrolas is also less than interested in the ever-shifting politics of the Draconic Confedracy, prefering to get their excitement from visting other planes, or comissioning sweet new artworks. Like many dragons on their homeplane, Pyrolas graciously allows non-dragons to use the singular they when referring to them. This is nice, because in Ithmorne Draconic, pronouns are also honorifics, and using the wrong one can range from “slightly rude“ to “mortal insult“ (it’s also nice because some of them are very hard to pronounce if you aren’t a dragon).

Dragons on Ithmorne tend towards being more slender, and Pyrolas is no exception. However, unlike a certain dragon whose name has been misplaced, they all still look dragony. Pyrolas has red scales, except on the underside of their wings, where they are a more goldish colour. Since they’re a dragon, they don’t carry weapons. Rather, Pyrolas is the weapon, capable of spewing flame, clawing rocks to pieces and able to crush puny humanoids in their grasp. Thankfully, Pyrolas is a kind of “take it easy“ dragon, so you need to try pretty hard to provoke them. When they planeswalk, flames pour from their mouth and engulf them, followed by Pyrolas disappearing. This takes a little while, so they tend to do it while flying out of the way of danger.

Hits: Flying around, treasure, the fine arts, hosting tournements. Misses: Really cold places, dragon slayers, missing out on the chance to claw Bolas in his stupid dumb face, that time they went to Ixalan.

Tanzor - GUR, Shapeshifter, ? - Do you ever wonder how the multiverse fits together? Tanzor does, and they've embarked on the most ambitious planar cartography projection in the multiverse to work it out. Of course, along the way, they’ve picked up a number of other projects. These include subjects such as planar topology, monitoring aether currents, and tracking planes that have been inflicted by Phyrexians (thanks, Karn). Most recently, Tanzor has been investigating the aftershocks from the deaths of Kozilek and Ulamog, and the appearance of temporal anomalies around Tarkir. And with the possibility of more Planar Bridges being constructed, they could soon have a whole new set of issues on their hands. Or claws. Or tentacles. When you’re a changeling, it’s sometimes hard to keep track. When in doubt, check what the person you’re reflexively copying has. (When in a group of three or more people, Tanzor generally exerts concious control over their shapeshifting, as not to freak people out).

Describing Tanzor’s physical appearance is difficult, since as a changeling, it tends to shift around a lot. When changing form, it appears that their underlying changeling colour is dark blue, however. For simplicity, let’s just say they’re friend-shaped. When Tanzor planeswalkers, their form dissippates, and they appear to collapse into a single point.

Hits: Being able to be anything, wings/fins/toxins on demand, high vantage points, advanced eyeball techniques. Misses: Being asked why they can’t shapeshift into a form that isn’t injured, Phyrexians, whoever was the latest one to screw up the multiverse (currently: Bolas, previously: Gatewatch, Ugin/Sarkhan, and others).

Xand - BR, Human Rogue, Ravnica - Xand likes to introduce himself as a cultist of wealth and taste. Which is not entirely inaccurate. He’s a member of the Cult of Rakdos, he’s got money to burn, and he’s very concerned about food. But don’t mistake Xand for some regular glutton, looking to gorge on endless plates of substandard junk. Xand has standards. Out of a dozen recipes, even after days of refinement, only a few will make it to the menu of his bar - which is an unusually “classy“ environment for a Rakdos run business. Sure, you won’t find any Azorius, Selesnya or Ozhov patrons there, and higher ranked guild members tend to avoid the it, but it’s a decent place to grab a meal or a drink. And for the fancier members of Ravnican society, there’s always Café Xand, which features table cloths, a wine list and a krasis of the day. And with the countless flavours of the multiverse available to him, Xand is always looking to expand the menu.

Xand has pale brown skin and shoulder-length black hair. Like any self-respecting Rakdos cultist, he dresses in loud, colourful robes, often patched together from previous robes that didn’t survive whatever manic Rakdos event Xand was last at. He also has a surprisingly well kept set of chef’s clothing, as likes to ensure only the right ingredients get used when he’s cooking. For personal defense (and offense), Xand carries knives. Lots of knives. Too many knives, perhaps, even when you factor in his excuse that “you never know when you might need to cut a cake, or dice some vegetables”. He’s also pretty good at using Rakdos “hype magic” to disorient his foes, since it turns out that feeling a bunch of conflicting emotions at once is really distracting. When he planewalks, Xand disappears in a burst of dark flame, which leaves a pleasant, yet unidentifiable scent.

Hits: Good food, fine wine, various parties, visiting Valor’s Reach. Misses: Canibbalism, bar fights in his bar, Orzhov insurance rates, not being able to get the right spices, people calling him Alexander.

Look at all these nice...ish people. None of them would be into Gatewatching, but they’re also not making things worse. Tanzor might be willing to help out if they’re in the right place, and if you can appeal to her self-interest, Mazamat might teach you something useful. But with the others, their self-interest is probably going to overcome their altruism most of the time. Of course, the multiverse also has some rather more... antagonistic planewalkers, but that’s for next time.

#fanwalker #magic the gathering #fan character february

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moralhymn · 5 years

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I noticed that you seem fond of Ardnis. I was wondering if you could describe how you see them coming together and how Ignis would justify being with someone like Ardyn? I'm intrigued, and would love some headcanons/meta on the subject.

hello anon you’ve activated my trap card.

because, good lord, fond is putting it lightly. fond is putting it very, very lightly in truth. ardnis is my serious major ship for ardyn and ignis both and i! i just. i LOVE it. i love it so much. it’s a grand ship and i wish it was more popular but it’s sadly not but oh man OH MAN i wish more people were into it.

okay but let’s see here. how do i see them coming together? well not very easily for starters. after all, ardyn is very much noctis’s enemy. he’s not quite an enemy to prompto, ignis, and gladio, but they certainly are within their rights to view him as an antagonist. that being said, knowing that ignis is very prone to wanting to know things? i’m pretty sure the fact that ardyn knows so much would always be a huge draw for ignis. like, ignis is a guy who likes to know things. he wants everything to be clear. he wants to understand them. and ardyn is most definitely an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in a mystery. i can see ignis wanting to figure him out as much as he can right from the start. ardyn would probably tease him. he’d probably even indulge him more than once. ardyn’s very much the sort to toss out random bits of information ( that can be positively fact checked and clearly truthful. ) to ignis to keep drawing him in.

the fact that i’m quietly convinced that ardyn is everyone’s type ( more or less. ) probably helps too.

a lot of in-game interactions between ardyn and ignis also lend me a lot of support for the idea of there being something going on there, a sort of mutual attraction if you will. ardyn goes out of his way to mess with ignis even more than he does with noctis. like, yes, ardyn wants noctis dead. he does torture prompto. but he never really bothers with gladio or prompto or noctis the way he does with ignis. hell, ardyn literally tells ignis he’s envious of noctis for having such loyal people in his life. out of all of them, ardyn reveals more of himself at more points in time to ignis than he does anyone else. now, it’d be easy to see this as ardyn trying to subvert ignis and all that, but that’s not quite how it’s ever read to me. ardyn very literally gives more to ignis than he does anyone else.

add in the fact that talcott is able to tell noctis things when he gets out of angelgard and that you know that neither prompto nor gladio are likely to have gone near insomnia, this leaves one person who would have gone to ardyn to demand answers. it’d be ignis. hell, it was ignis that did that. he plundered the royal tombs to learn about ardyn. he deliberately went out of his way to learn about this man and that was something that none of the others did. it was ignis who took the time to learn ardyn’s secrets and the truth of who he was. that is a major significant thing for someone like ardyn and someone like ignis. i mean, i’m sure ignis learned the truth somehow, but it was to ardyn he went to get it confirmed. and i imagine by that point, ardyn knew what he was doing so he just... told him. he told him and it was probably the first time in so long that he’d ever told anyone the truth of himself. and there’s a big difference between someone learning a secret you have versus telling someone you care about this secret. like, contrast verstael and ignis. verstael learned about it. but ardyn probably told ignis of his own accord and that made it more significant.

so, how did they come together? ( heh heh– okay okay i’ll behave– ) well, honestly, i think it wouldn’t be that hard. ignis is seen as the mother hen of the group. he’s had numerous expectations and responsibilities heaped onto him over the years, since the age of six. people just expect him to have an answer for something or to know what to do in any given situation and very few would ever give him any sort of acknowledgement or praise or anything else for this. so ignis has learned that he has to put the needs of everyone else before his own. he’s learned that others are a priority before himself. hell, i imagine that no one really bothers to ask ignis what it is he wants. what he wants to do. what he believes. and so he’s been dealing with this over and over for so long that he doesn’t expect anyone else to offer a difference in how they treat him.

and yet with ardyn, being ardyn? ardyn would ask him all those things no one else does. it’d definitely shock ignis, i’m sure. hell, he can be his own person without any expectation around ardyn and that’d probably be so liberating for someone like ignis. for someone to see him as himself and his own person? ignis would probably go wild over it and for it. after all, he’s been seen as only a servant for so long, by everyone ( and yes, this includes prompto and gladio, nevermind noctis. ), that i imagine that having the attention of a man as handsome and insufferably charming as ardyn would really get ignis going when all is said and done.

but that’s not all! it’s stated in numerous source materials that ignis is a very caring and maternal person. he’s not the whole soft side of being maternal. he’s very much the fierce protective side of things. for ignis, i don’t think it’d be much of a stretch to find him caring for ardyn very quickly once he realizes that ardyn, for all his behavior, is a very lonely man. add on ardyn telling ignis the truth of himself and it’s very, very easy for me to see them slowly growing into a relationship. and there’s even more! ardyn is a very smart man and he’d definitely push ignis and challenge him. for ardyn, he sees such potential in ignis and gives him a chance to show what he likes to ardyn. for ardyn, ignis is ever going to be amazing and a true force of nature. ardyn would fully recognize ignis’s potential and want to see it bloom in full.

they’re different in personality, yes, but theirs is the sort of difference that somehow clicks between them. they would know how to work against one another and work together at the same time. and the differences would be what truly binds them together. ardyn would challenge ignis but ignis would also challenge ardyn in equal measure. neither of them would be satisfied if the other party backed down and as a result, that wouldn’t work for either of them. besides, i honestly believe that ardyn would appreciate ignis’s bitchier side in all truth. he thinks it’s cute.

as for how ignis would justify it? honestly, i think even with knowing that ardyn is an enemy, he might have half a vague thought of doing it to get close. why not see if he can win ardyn over? but as time goes on, it turns into genuine love and he understands that his own personal feelings and desires won’t change anything. i believe, myself, that ignis would understand by the end of things that this is inevitable. he knows the prophecy, after all, as does ardyn. that’s what makes them a tragically wonderful couple to me. because unless there’s some kind of divine intervention or one branches into a different territory, there’s no happy ending. and i, apparently, am here for this ship being tragic and angsty as hell. that being said, though? i don’t know entirely how ignis would justify it to himself beyond recognizing that ardyn wants him to be himself, that ardyn has no expectations of him, that ardyn merely likes ignis for who he is. and i think that that’s a powerful enough reason to want to be with ardyn all on its own.

like, i love ardnis so much. i feel like ignis is the one person that would get ardyn to reconsider what he’s doing, even a little, but it’d also be a bitter pill for ardyn in its own right. he’s been alone since his mortal life and now, here’s this amazing beautiful young man and it’s at the end of things. ardyn has to cope with the fact that he gets such a short amount of time with ignis. and ignis has to understand that he’s going to be bereft of ardyn by the time it’s all over and that ardyn will end things with noctis one way or another. literally, their story would just be one of sadness. but, man oh man, ardyn allows ignis to get away with so much too. he really truly does.

like i have written before on how ardyn and ignis interact together in the game and it’s just so interesting to me that ardyn goes out of his way to bother ignis the most. it’s also interesting that ignis doesn’t say no when prompto goes “not your type?” to him on their way to altissia. ardyn literally offers ignis things that he doesn’t give to any of the others. ignis in turn shows ardyn that he’s willing to go as far as he does to stop him. and i think that’s just huge for both of them. literally, i believe that ardyn never encountered anyone like ignis before. and i think that had the astrals not been a bunch of complete cockmunchers and had they found some way to save both ardyn and noctis, ardyn and ignis would’ve been that couple that bickers constantly, kicked ass together in fights, and obviously been very, very in love with one another. they also would’ve had five kids and probably three or four cats.

and i just?

i JUS T LOV E THE M S O MUCH–

#Anonymous #ask tag;#ardnis tag;#thank you anon for letting me blast my love for this ship all over the dash #and i'm sorry this response is a few days late!

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internetremix · 5 years

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I was wondering... Do you any of you have tips for a rookie GM? I'm setting up a game night here soon and I'm stressing the heck out over it.

Alex: No matter what game system you play it's usually quite intimidating because there are like 600 pages of information to digest. At any given time you need to have memorized only, like, thirty. At the end of the day most tabletop games are just two things - math and improv. Admittedly things that, outside of tabletop games, people go out of their way to avoid, but still.

Stress can lead people to get things done fast but also get things done sloppy. You don't need to plan out every single detail of what the characters might encounter eventually in a session. You can flesh out a couple of interesting people, places, or things you want them to see and just keep a scratch card of notes and traits for if/when they go off the beaten path. Remember, no matter what you plan, there is no accounting for the actions of players, and rolling with them provides a far better experience than slamming your fist down and saying "NO" to every deviation.

And above all else, remember that tabletop games are a collaborative effort. People come together to play games, tell stories, and shoot the shit. If shooting the shit overtakes the game you can rein that in a little but at the end of the day everyone's there voluntarily to have fun, and no one is there to see anyone fail.So to recap -

1. You are the arbiter of rules no matter what the book says. You can double-check later and take notes for future games if it becomes an issue but generally you only need to have in mind rules that are actively going to be used in game. If you don't know the exact way to handle something just make up what the closest action would be and if the player rolls what you think is well enough to do it, they did it.

2. If you don't have time to take notes on every single thing the players might encounter, congratulations, you're an average person. You only need a few based on the following factors - what do you want the players to do, how do you think they're going to do it, and do you have something prepared for when they go off the beaten path.

3. Have fun! Seriously, it's called a tabletop GAME, not a tabletop dictatorship.

Kristen: All of my games are Tabletop Dictatorships, all of them. Unfortunately I'm a terrible, weak-willed dictator so this helps nothing.

Alex: Discord Murder Party is different. Mafia/Werewolf operates way differently than D&D and needs a GM SPECIFICALLY so that players don't go off the rails.

Kristen: You are 100% correct.

God my first tabletop I ever DMed for I made my own thing and wrote like... twenty pages for my first session. And then as soon as I started, my players were like HEY I WANNA EXPLORE THE SHOPS

"O-oh.... y-yeah, here's uh... heeeere's a list of shops..."

So then I had to improv like... five shops and make multiple NPCs on the fly and then I found out "it turns out writing an entire paragraph for every NPC is an awful idea because you can't fucking read those notes mid-session"

So my point is don't do that.

Juno: Oh yeah. Last night I had to make up a guy named Lucas on the spot because JoJo's character wanted to convince a guy not to kill them

Kristen: YEP I ran the generic 5e DnD starter for a group of friends and somehow it went from a generic "you all hunt down and kill a bunch of goblins and a bugbear in a cave, way to go" to "You spared a Goblin who has a ridiculous Brooklyn accent who hates his job and now you're starting a ridiculous worker's revolution and this has ended with you all enlisting every other goblin you were supposed to fight into swarming the bugbear boss. Okay."

Juno: I mean. That's a pretty bomb plot twist if you ask me.

Kristen: Oh yes, I enjoyed it immensely. Also really in the context of a DnD game I'm pretty sure that shouldn't be doable cause I don't think any of them were supposed to be able to speak common. If your players are setting themselves up for a more interesting story and you have to bend the rules a bit to make it happen, go for it. One of the most important things for GMing is making your players feel like they have agency- as Alex said, it's collaborative, it's not just you telling your players a story.

Another thing to keep in mind is what sort of players you have. I usually prefer to play with people who are more into the RP/story aspect, but some people are gonna be more into them fighty fights and mechanics and such. Which is fine and can work, it's just a matter of striking a balance in your game. I usually try to tailor things in such a way that everyone's getting a chance to get what they want out of a game and their shot at the spotlight, in whatever manner that takes. For me it's helped to ask my players directly "hey, what do you want out of this game? Do you have any ideas or anything you're really into?"

Mostly what I'm saying is just try to keep in mind what your players are in this for, since that contributes a lot to how much fun you all have.

Atwas: Something that's helped me a lot is to not stress out or stop the game entirely to double check rules. It sort of kills momentum. In my experience, ruling a situation and then looking something up later is a lot less stressful than the pressure of putting something completely on pause while you flip through a book/google something.

If you're doing stuff in real life, I would recommend making a little cheat sheet of your PC's information. My DM screen has sticky notes with each party characters HP, AC, Passive Perception, and Spell Save DC to keep things streamlined.

Kristen: Oooo smurt

Alex: Hell yeah dude. Also there are custom DM screens you can get tailor-made to give you quick rules references. Fairly cheap on Amazon.

Atwas: Also your players don't know if you're winging stuff unless you tell them. ;^)

Also also don't be scared of bumping monster hp up or down depending on a fight or having monsters run away or call in reinforcements. If you go off script in an encounter--surprise! Nobody knows but you. I did that quite a bit when I was starting out because balancing encounters is a bit of an art and CR is a loose guideline at best.

Also also also the point of the game isn't to win. Don't fall into the trap of "beating your players" or stuff like that. Imo that kind of messes with the table dynamics unless 100% of everyone is on board with that type of game.

Kristen: Yeah, don't fall into that and also be careful not to go into the mindset of "punishing" your players if they do something dumb. Like if it's a silly "you did this thing and consequences have gone WILDLY outside of what you expect wheee", awesome, but I've had DMs who basically would act like if you didn't somehow read their minds and find their exact solution, welp you made a dumb choice and now everyone is penalized for it. Made for a pretty toxic atmosphere, do not recommend. Kind goes hand in hand with "don't be a tabletop dictator".

Atwas: oh gods i could go on and on about how punishing someone in game never works for out of game behaviour but i digress. also please don't feel afraid to talk to your players, even if having adult conversations is difficult.

Juno: Cause and effect is the biggest thing to think about I think, especially in a DMing situation.

Alex: For instance, siccing a Revenant on the party? Thavagath made a bad decision in character, that's the natural consequence, he gets a chance to save his ass. Someone makes a dick joke about your carefully crafted NPC? Don't be a dick right back.

Atwas: sweats, trying to think back to the last time a dick joke was made in Fallen Empires

Alex: Like I think the last major one was Phill pulling a muscle stretching so hard to make a joke for five minutes about the "Male Room" rather than the "Mail Room"

But then we - wait for it - ACTUALLY DISCUSSED THE ISSUE OUT OF GAME and stuff like that doesn't pop up any more.

Atwas: WHAT? SPEAKING LIKE REASONABLE ADULTS?!?! IN MY TABLETOP?!?!?! it's really useful. please have those conversations, even if they're uncomfortable. and if something is becoming an issue, bring it up sooner rather than later--turns out that people can't change stuff if they don't know about it! Most people want to stay friends after a campaign after all.

Jojo: Have your story planned, npcs, and what you want an end goal to be. Make sure it's all planned out BEFORE asking people to join it. And if you need a second DM to help you with Dice or story, then that's ok too! I'm still a beginner DM myself, so that's the best advice I can give

These guys are pros, so listen to them

Phill: Heheh... male room

Alex: Phill no you'll pull your hamstring again

Phill:

Atwas: what do you think is Phill's average Henderson rating?

Alex: Phill has at least One Henderson in him, he destroyed Underdark to the point of we can't go back to it ever now.

Phill: I mean. Yeah. Honestly, I could've very easily seen phresh reach a 1.75 hendersons eventually.

Atwas: I'd say 1.75 works. 2 is still out of reach, but one day...

Xander: Underdark is cursed content and deserved better

Atwas: How many of he players had that as their first campaign? 3/5?

Xander: I believe so

Alex: Uprising and I had played before, I don't think Jojo, Dawn, or Phill had.

Xander: I'm probably gonna reboot Underdark one day. Wipe the slate clean. Probably not gonna be done on IR

Alex: We did it! We reached two Hendersons!

Xander: Two full Hendersons.

Phill: time unveil my new original character. Blesh

Alex: Blerish

Xander: More like Blemish

#ask the ir crew #advice #dungeons and dragons #dndbags #as always this starts as good advice and then devolves into nonsense #Anonymous

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canvaswolfdoll · 6 years

Text

CanvasWatches: The Dragon Prince

Netflix is making a live-action Avatar: The Last Airbender series.

Just… no? I realize time and development has been put into this. People are employed. But… the first series was magic, stop trying to recapture it.

Netflix has this problem where they want to propel themselves forward with original content, but that content is very mediocre. They try reviving old series and produce productions that disappoint.[1] The original concepts mostly fade into obscurity, are Stranger Things (which had one pretty good season, and then a mediocre second season), or is BoJack Horseman which I haven’t watched but haven’t heard a bad word about.

Then there’s their irritating handling of Anime.[2]

Netflix is willing to experiment and let creators do what they want. I admire that. But (and trust me, I hate to say this), they need focus testing. They need a stricter format. Edges for creators to bump up against and work around.

A standard season length, for one. An allotted time per episode maybe. Make production a puzzle to solve.

Instead they say ‘Let’s do the live-action Avatar series no one asked for, and is a passive insult to the original!’[3]

Which drags us into The Dragon Prince.

Spoilers! You might want to watch it for yourself (it’s nine episodes), but if you don’t mind spoilers, go ahead. I’m not the City Watch.

So, I think we’ve finally figured it out. We had Avatar: The Last Airbender, which was great. Then we distilled the creative staff, ran experiments and isolated elements.

Legend of Korra was good. Had the creators produce it, but not the head writer. The world was the same, but evolved in interesting ways. Good character concepts and real heart, but still missing the magic and character relationships that resonated so well in the first series.

Now, with The Dragon Prince, we get to see what happens when you isolate AtLA’s head writer, Aaron Ehasz.

You get a cliche fantasy setting, weak main plot, and a lot of cheap AtLA mimicry. But you also get some super charming child characters, intriguing (if not currently complex) villains, and small details that could build up to something great.

Which is to say: go to Bryke for the world and myth arc, go to Ehasz for the character interactions.

There it is! The ultimate break down! Let’s pack this up and…

Okay, fine. You want to hear my opinions on The Dragon Prince. That’s… fair, I guess.

So, in this setting, magic comes from six source: The sun! The moon! The Stars! The Ocean! The Earth! I think the sky?[4]

However, then humanity created a seventh magic! Dark Magic! Ooo, so evil, so dastardly!

Sigh.

Just once, I’d like dark magic to just be misunderstood. If they called it Life Magic, they’d probably have better PR.

Anyways, humanity went to war with the elves, but the Dragon King got sick of the fighting, so he sent the humans west, elves to the east, and divided the continent in half with a lava river.

Humanity didn’t really like this, so they killed the dragon king and his egg. So that’s vengeance.

Except this upset the elves because, y’know, murder’s bad. So they send a party from the assassin elf faction: The Moon Shadow Elves! They turn invisible under moonlight![5]

They’re gonna kill the Human king and his son to make things even. Because suddenly murder’s not so bad?

However, a member of the group is a child who couldn’t will herself to kill.

Basically, that cool and exciting setting you created when you were fourteen? Good news, it’s a Netflix Show now! Yay!

Also, the first season is Book 1: Moon.

And the title card is formatted exactly like Avatar, but with white text on a black background.

So the world isn’t special, and they’re deliberately aping some Avatar trappings. But that’s fine, there’s still the characters and plot. We could bicycle this!

So, what do we have with the humans? A beloved king with a dead wife and two children? Okay… both are sons,[6] so at least it’s not the usual nuclear structure. And, hey, the eldest prince is the king’s step son! Nice change.

Who else? King has an advisor that uses dark magic, suggested killing the dragon king and the egg, and talks above his station. But, hey, Lord Viren has two charming children, and he seems genuinely concerned about his king’s survival and the good of…

Oh, he gets a magic makeover in the final episode to make him look more inhuman, and spends the season plotting to take the throne.

Ugh. Of course.

Well, what about Viren’s children? Claudia is a mage like her dad, and is a cloudcuckoolander. Good choice. And she doesn’t do much that’s actively evil. We’ve got Ty Lee in Zuko’s role. I’m game.

Soren is… well, he’s going to be Azula. He doesn’t have her sadistic streak, but he’s been given the job of eliminating claims to the throne, is a competent combatant, and Viren motivates him with being in line for the throne.

He could turn, but my money’s on just being Azula.

Now, to be clear, Viren wasn’t obviously evil. There were plenty of early moments that hinted that he could be sympathetic and non-evil. However, he does spiral into torture and deceit, so once the season is over, there’s no ambiguity. Sorry.

Hey, what about the main cast?

Prince Callum is voiced by Sokka! Awesome! Jack De Sena needs more work. This time, he gets magic and impressive artistic skills! But he had to give up his sword abilities, and kept the daddy issues. But there’s still that snarky edge and loving brother personality, though the weight of them have been swapped.

He’s the half brother of Prince Ezran, who is the heir apparent of the kingdom. He’s… a goofy young boy. I dunno. Aang light. No overt talents. He’s fine.

So those two are hanging out at the castle, when suddenly their father tries to send them off to the winter cabin, despite it being not winter. He suggests made making a dirt man or going mud sledding.

Callum finds this suspect, and eventually logics out that King Harrow expects to be assassinated and wants to get his sons a safe distance away.

Meanwhile, the Moon Shadow Elves are planning their assassination, making a vow on a magic ribbon that will amputate a limb if they fail. Two targets: King Harrow and Prince Ezran to make up for killing the Dragon King and his egg. Even, you know?

Of course, they dragged a literal child along and had her make the same oath with the same ribbon, so screw ‘em. Child soldiers are bad.

This girl is Rayla. She’ll be the rogue of the main cast! Yay![7]

However, after making this promise, they find out she let a guard go so the humans know they’re coming. You’re off the mission Rayla! Turn in your fancy switchblades and ribbon!

Except the ribbon is magic and won’t come off until the job is done, so keep that I guess. And it’d be mean to take away your knives, so… look, stay at camp while the five adults go murder a dude and an actual kid.

Please remember, these jerks wanted to murder an innocent child.

Rayla decides to redeem herself, and sneaks into the castle. She finds the two princes, Callum attempts to martyr himself for Ezran, shenanigans occur in secret tunnels, and… oh, look, it’s the Dragon King’s Egg. Guess they didn’t actually kill that?

Well, let’s call the whole thing off!

Oh, nevermind. Rayla’s Uncle still wants to kill the king and prince. What a jerk.

So our three heroes escape the castle with the egg, planning on returning to the Dragon Queen. We got our mission!

Oh, and the elves killed King Harrow. So… that’s fun.

To be honest, I wouldn’t discount Lord Viren using dark magic to sidestep this. But he’s also trying to claim the throne, so maybe the king is actually dead.

Could go either way.

The kids head off to the royal cottage, where they stumble onto Callum’s aunt. She’s mute! (Maybe deaf, not one hundred percent on that, since lip reading was referenced but also some ambiguity…)

She’s a military General, fights with a shield, is super awesome, and I’m sad how Callum didn’t bring her into the scheme.

Like, yes, for the plot to work, Lord Viren needs to know the princes are alive and the boys have to be careful and having General Amaya know and supporting the boys would’ve caused other troubles.

But… c’mon Callum, literally signing to Amaya that Rayla is a monster and forcing the elf to do a Blue Spirit act is terrible. Like… they’ve established a sweet way for Callum to communicate a secret past her soldiers, and they didn’t use it for a sweet twist?

Ugh. Intentional miscommunication and unnecessary secrets. They are hitting a bunch of my hated tropes.[8]

The children run off and… don’t really do anything very interesting for a couple episodes.

The villain side of things is where the real fun is! General Amaya goes to the castle to report on the survival of the princes and stop Lord Viren from taking the throne.

However, Lord Viren offers her the throne. Again, how the scene is written and acted, I still found myself doubting what role Viren’s supposed to take. He seems genuinely concerned for the general populace, and offers compromises at every turn, and communicates honestly and…

I want Lord Viren to be a misunderstood good guy. I really want Dark Magic to not be an irredeemable evil. A story without a Big Bad, just factions with cross purposes would be great. There’s so many good escape routes for a more interesting story.

Then Lord Viren throws the man Amaya chose (her interpreter, Gren. He’s neat! I like him!) to lead the Prince Recovery Team into a dungeon, where he can watch Viren torture Rayla’s uncle for information.

Yeah… this is who our villain is.

In Gren’s place, Viren sends his children. Soren is given secret instructions to insure the princes don’t make it home alive, and Claudia is given secret instructions to prioritize the safety of the egg. So that’s our Zuko and Azula doing the Avatar hunt.

They have a fun dynamic as Soren doesn’t put much stock in magic and Claudia is an adorable dark magician girl![10] I look forward to more of them.

Now, back to the D&D campaign of the kids: Callum is trying to learn magic after stealing Claudia’s storm magic orb, and he’s pretty good at it. Rayla is worried about the ribbon cutting off her circulation and is an awesome rogue. Ezran… needs to learn healing magic so we can have a Cleric.

They accidentally drop the egg into a frozen lake and are afraid the baby dragon within is dying, so they head off to get help at a town. There’s a fun kid moment with Rayla turning a snowman into a snow-elf (it was a cute moment and Rayla needs more).

Then the group picks up a girl, Ellis, so abruptly that she might as well have been a player that joined between sessions. Ellis rides a giant puppy named Ava, so we’ve got a beast-master fighter!

Ellis tells the boys about a magic healer on the top of a scary mountain filled with scary monsters. With no options, the four go to the mountain.

They fight one monster, have some self reflection, get to the mountain, learn Ezran can talk to animals,[11] and the monsters there are illusions.

They get to where to where the healer is, only to learn that, nah, she’s just a powerful illusionist and Ava only has three legs.

The only way to save the egg is to hatch it. But they need a storm to do so.

Thus, Callum shatters his magic orb to release a storm, the egg hatches, and the titular Dragon Prince is able to gently bite off the magic ribbon Rayla couldn’t cut off with a magic sun knife.

(Either the dragon is magic enough, or saving the baby dragon was considered equal to assassinating Ezran).

Soren and Claudia use a spell to pinpoint the group!

Lord Viren inprisons Rayla’s uncle in a coin and transforms into an eviller looking form!

Also, there’s some mystery with a magic mirror? Cliffhanger stuff.

So… The Dragon Prince is not amazing. The dialogue and character interactions and relationships are great, but the story and world is paint by numbers.

The next season has plenty of room for subversions and interesting experiments, but… until I see it, I honestly think the show’s skippable in its current form. Filler episodes to build the world and characters would do a lot to help, and committing to nuances hinted at for Lord Viren would be great.

Also, hopefully they improve the animation. I’m not normally one to care about frame rates, but boy did the animation stutter a lot for a finished product.

It’s average.

Thanks for reading this review! Consider checking out my other writings, sending me comments and questions, check out my webcomic or RPG Blog, or whatever. Next time, Netflix is releasing an Anime I’ve been excited for nearer the end of the month. Keep an eye out for that, which will post to my Patreon first. I’m also slowly rolling out a Review of Digimon there!

Until we go flying with dragons,

Kataal kataal.

[1] Admittedly, modern fandom is filled with loud obnoxious people, but I haven’t heard anything good about Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life, even from my less frothy-mouthed sisters. [2] If you’re gonna simuldub series in Canada, you can do it in the US, you jerks! [3] Everything can be improved. But actually remaking something just says the original wasn’t good enough. That’s why people hate reboots. [4] Can’t remember if that’s under the purview of the stars or not… [5] Which is Warcraft, Ehasz. [6] Unless there’s a spoiler with Ezran’s voice cast. [7] Canvas likes playing rogues. [8] Let’s see if season two can get inappropriate student-teacher relationship![9] Then they can get a free sandwich. And my eternal ire. [9] For the record: when Claudia inevitably defects and starts teaching Callum magic, that’s not going to count. The two are close in age and it’s not an institutional power imbalance. [10] I want a show about Claudia, Rayla, and Amaya on awesome adventures. [11] He’s a druid! Learn to heal, nerd.

#CanvasReviews #the dragon prince #dragon prince #atla #CanvasWatches

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