queer renaissance artists

After taking a quick survey of which of your digits you think is least vital, you extend your left pinkie finger through the door and brace yourself for amputation.

Nothing happens. Still, you’re not gonna risk your head in there, and you’d feel kinda guilty asking Jimmy to go in.

You lift your lantern high, trying to make out as much of the new room as possible. There honestly isn’t much to see. The room is approximately ten feet by ten feet and feels smaller, owing to a large stone gear that descends through the ceiling.

Leaves litter the floor. They’re yellow and fan-shaped and you think you saw some Art Nouveau jewelry based on leaves like that.

There is something hanging on the far wall. It’s a swath of fabric hung with small metal gears strung on coarse twine. The largest looks to be about the size of your palm, and the smallest are probably the size of the tip of your finger, although between the dark and the distance, you can’t be sure that there aren’t even smaller ones that you’re missing. Rogue wind chime? Art installation? Handy form of gear storage? No idea.

That seems to be it for this room. Weird. You feel on some level that if rooms are going to appear without warning, they should be rooms worth looking at.

Since there’s only one way left to go, you head east down the corridor. It turns almost immediately south, then back west, and ends in a broad flight of stairs leading down into darkness

There are only two significant things on the wall above the stairs. One is a rude poem in Ye Olde English and one is a small round opening at knee height that appears to be the mouth of a rusty pipe. Red corrosion stains dribble down the wall below it.

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Arthur

Pros:

Total package. Hell yeah.

No treason, no punishment for treason.

You’re hanging out with him all the time anyway, might as well give it a try.

Cons:

Created Antichrist incest baby.

Lancelot

Pros:

Will murder everyone if you ask him to

Cons:

Will murder everyone if you don’t ask him to

Gawain

Pros:

Solar powered, green energy (hehehe)

Let’s you call the shots

Into mmf threesomes

Cons

Prone to blood feuds

You have to deal with his shitty family

Mordred

Pros

Was your lover in the first written version so you’ll be keeping it old school

Cons

Is antichrist incest baby

Agravain

Pros

Is known as “the handsome”

In Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, is described as “loyal”

Cons

Every other version says he sucks.

Gaheris

Pros:

Arthur married him to some lady he barely knew so he’ll probably be up for it

Cons:

Killed mother in psycho-sexual jealous rage, then framed and murdered her lover for it

Gareth

Pros:

Nothing really bad to say about him

Cons:

In love with Lancelot

Bors

Pros:

Technical winner of the Grail Quest

Will not cheat on you with a shape changed demon

Cons:

Thinks you are a shape changed demon

Galahad

Pros:

Greatest Mary Sue in the land

Cons

Will say no

What if he doesn’t say no?  What if he gives in to lust and you’ve effectively destroyed him?  Could you ever live with yourself again?

Percival

Pros:

Is hot in a Tarzan kinda way.

Cons:

Dumb as a box of rocks.

Kay

Pros:

You at least know who he is because of the Disney movie

Cons:

Everything else

Tristan

Pros:

Handsome

Hopeless romantic

Cons:

Psychopath

Dinadan

Pros:

Girls dig funny guys

Cons:

If you break up, will write a Taylor Swift style song about you.

Dagonet

Pros:

Girls dig funny guys

Cons:

Is literally a jester someone knighted as a joke

Bedivere

Pros:

Canonically the most handsome knight

Cons:

When he’s the last one left standing at the final battle and Arthur gives him his sword to throw away, it will be really awkward if he has to avoid confessing that he banged his wife.

Morgan le Fay

Pros:

Will probably be up for it.

Cons:

My favorite two minutes from Fantasy High so far

... because I’m pretty sure most people skip this one. Because it IS called “The Yellow Face.” And it was written by a British dude in 1893. So there are a couple of… very reasonable assumptions you could make about the content. But I’m telling you that humanity can be wholesome and pure, so hang around, it’s story time.

We open with Holmes and Watson, who are just sort of wandering around London in silence, “as befits two men who know each other intimately.” (awww). And when they get back to 221B, they’ve got a new client waiting. 

Mr. Grant Munro is one of those mid-thirties guys who looks a lot younger. It turns out he’s married an American widow from Georgia and she’s started acting really REALLY weird. 

Like, she’s sneaking out in the middle of the night without saying where she’s going. Withdrawing a lot of money from the joint bank account, not saying why. Pretending *not* to know a strange Scottish woman who’s new in town. One day this guy gives into temptation and follows her. She goes to a random cottage that she’s secretly renting, in a town called Norbury. He has no idea what is going on, but he comes back to visit this cottage a few times after that, and every he walks past it, he sees a strange expressionless yellow-white face at the window. It ducks out of sight whenever he looks too long. 

Anyway, Holmes glances over at Watson, says thank you and that he’ll look into it. When the client leaves, he shakes his head, “There’s blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken.” 

Holmes’ theory is that the American widow’s first husband is still alive, and he’s blackmailing her. Or (second option) the first husband like, went insane or something, and the mysterious Scottish woman has worked out the situation, and she’s the one doing the blackmailing.

Homes & Watson and Grant Munro “solve” the case by basically just sneaking into the cottage when they’re not expected. And they find - 

A little, four-year-old African-American girl. In a mask and long white evening gloves.

Holmes goes and takes off the mask first thing, but the little girl is fine, just laughing and smiling at all the confused people. Watson “burst[s] out laughing, out of sympathy for her merriment.” 

But Grant Munro looks at his wife, who’s just run into the room, and says, “My God! What can be the meaning of this!” 

His wife’s backstory comes out. See, her first husband was African-American (she’s got his picture in her locket, Watson calls him “strikingly handsome and intelligent looking”) and the little girl is their daughter. (”Dark or fair, she is my own dear girlie and her mother’s pet!”) She didn’t think that a second husband would sign off on a multiracial daughter, so she’s been letting the Scottish nurse raise her - until she just cracked, missed her little girl too much, and had to have her near, even if it meant doing dumb things like giving her a mask and evening gloves so they wouldn’t accidentally start a rumor about an African-American girl living in the neighborhood. 

And then - actually, I’m just going to go to Arthur Conan Doyle (and Watson) for this last part:

It was a long ten minutes before Grant Munro broke the silence, and when his answer came it was one of which I love to think. He lifted the little child, kissed her, and then, still carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned towards the door.

“We can talk it over more comfortably at home,” said he. “I am not a very good man, Effie, but I think that I am a better one than you have given me credit for being.” 

Holmes and I followed them down the lane, and my friend plucked at my sleeve as we came out.

“I think,” said he, “that we shall be of more use in London than in Norbury.” 

Not another word did he say of the case until late into the night, when he was turning away, with his lighted candle, for his bedroom.

CALL ME OUT NEXT TIME WATSON

KEEP THESE RECEIPTS FOR ME

Amandla Stenberg: non-binary actress and singer (The Hate U Give, The Hunger Games) [she/her; they/them]

Ezra Miller: genderqueer actor (The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Justice League) [prefers he/him but is comfortable with all pronouns]

Chella Man: genderqueer YouTuber, actor & model (Titans) [he/him]

Brigette Lundy-Paine: non-binary actor (Atypical, The Glass Castle) [they/them]

Angel Haze: agender rapper & singer (Battle Cry, Cleaning out my Closet) [she/her; he/him]

Indya Moore: non-binary actor & model (Pose, Queen & Slim) [they/them]

Ruby Rose: genderfluid actress, model, talk show host, DJane (Batwoman, OitnB) [she/her]

Asia Kate Dillon: non-binary actor (Billions, OitnB) [they/them]

Quintessa Swindell: non-binary actor (Trinkets, Euphoria) [they, them]

Jonathan Van Ness: non-binary television personality, podcaster & hairdresser (Queer Eye) [prefers he/him but is also okay with they/them & she/her]

Liv Hewson: Nonbinary actor (Santa Clarita Diet, Let It Snow) [they/them]

Bex Taylor-Klaus: Nonbinary actor and voice actor [Voltron, Scream]

gerard way (he/they) - member of mcr

dorian electra (they/them) - singer

sonicfox (they/them) - esports player

Andrea Gibson (they/them): Non-binary slam poet and activist

Lead Singer of Openside (They/Them)

the disney+ tv-series that we need to happen: ‘the handmaidens’

By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.

You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.

The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.

And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.

But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.

Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.

You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.

The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.

You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.

It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.

Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.

When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.

BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!

You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai'kor. Commander Vura'ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…

When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.

And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.

Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.

It came for someone almost every night. 

Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight.  They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved.  Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again. 

What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror.  Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather.  It had fangs as long as his grasping digits.  Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity.  And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.

Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it. 

The earth natives called the monster a leopard.  

It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge.  Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster. 

But rumor was that there was worse on this planet.  Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.

The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent.  “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.”  Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.

“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar'van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.

The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar'van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.

Another moment Tar'van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’

“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”

Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar'van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.

The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.

“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar'van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.

“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar'van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”

The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.

“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.

“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.

Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar'van is the squads leader now.

“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”

Tar'van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar'van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.

They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.

Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.

“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”

“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”

The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.

In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.

But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.

The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)

“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling. 

“Is that a miniature tiger?”

“Why does this human own a small pack of wolves?”

The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them. 

“Oh, you mean dogs? Yeah, they’re the only animals that can keep up with us.”

The aliens look at each other in fear. “What do you mean?”

“Oh well that’s why you guys ‘won’ is because humans aren’t super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?”

“Uh… okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?”

“Omg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)”

The aliens aren’t expecting any difficulties with their underwater expeditions. Of course, that’s when four of the life signs on the central screen simply vanish, like they’d never been there. 

Alpha turns on the direct communication lines to the remaining submersion pods, and the only thing they hear through the tinny speakers is screaming. 

Alpha resists the urge to turn and stare at the shackled human standing behind them, but Beta, Gamma and Theta have no such compunctions. 

The human shrugs. “I mean, we’ve never really been down there so we’re not entire sure, but we’ve heard stories of giant squids and stuff. No smoke without fire, and all that.” 

“There can be neither smoke nor fire underwater, human, cease your prattling.” 

The human snorts. “It’s a phrase. A metaphor? Man, I don’t know, I studied marine biology, not literature.” 

The human is unable to tell them anything useful about what might have happened to the submersion pods, but retrieved footage later shows tentacled behemoths snaking out of the depths of disturbed silt and cold water, and crushing the submersion pods effortlessly, in full view of the outer-hull cameras. The monsters have giant beaks which rip through the organic alloy sheets, and into the bodies of the pod pilots within. 

The outer-hull cameras register the blue of fresh spilled blood and gore, at the same time the on-board cameras register screaming and the red glow of critical power failure. 

The last thing the aliens can see on the retrieved footage is thin, long, snakelike creatures appearing out of the darkness and gloom, creating their own light and descending upon the remains of their brethren. They are accompanied by creatures that look like plastic bags, but which feed upon the toxic remains of the organic alloy of which the pods were made.

2) Earth has Poison Dart Frogs, we’re clearly a Death World.

Such a one was Sarcal-<clik>, respected Third Claw of the 87th Legion. Not only an admired leader and a feared warrior (They had led the assualt on Urpga-9 after all), but one whose exo-skeleton and mist sacs were amongst the most elegantly beautiful of their generation (though they were apporpriately modest about such things). In every respect they were a warrior to aspire to be like, resplendent in the finest, hand-polished ceramic body armour, guaranteed (so the makers claimed) to be able to resist the claws of even the “tyg’er”, though no one was too keen to put that one to the test. They had volunteered for this duty, partly out of a love of the challenge, partly out of a desire to excel… There was a Dirt-ian song which included the lyrics “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere” and this was being generally applied to the surivors of more than one tour of duty.

Simply having them on Dirt (There HAD to be a better name) was a source of pride for many, and relief for others (in the hope that a bad report from Salrcal<clik> would be enough to get Command to evacuate this godsforsaken planet.)

So it was a cause of great concern when Sarcal-<clik> could not be woken when it came time for their watch that night. Like any good soldier, they slept in their armour when sharing watch duty. Swiftly, an officer was called and when the visor was raised, it was not that they were dead which was the greatest shock, but the look of horror frozen on that noble visage.

The field surgeon performing the cursory autopsy could not identify cause of death beyond poison of some sort. The humans bearers on the squad hadn’t been near them, so they were in the clear, but beyond that, it was a mystery.

The prized armour was passed to the next in command, as Sarcal<clik> would have wished, and though the sqaud were not nearly as inspired as once they might have been, they continued the patrol, determined to honour their comrade’s memory. There would be poems composed of this mission on the Homeworld in Sarcal<clik>’s honour, and their behaviour would reflect on them all in the telling.

It was not long, however, before the second in command convulsed and collapsed. Not as stoic as Sarcal<clik> their death was just as horrific, but less restrained and though the surgeon was still not able to identify how such a powerful neurotoxin could have entered their system.

There was some understandable reluctance on the newly appointed second in command to take on the armour. it may have been beautiful and gleamed in the even the unpleasantly yellow Dirt-ian sun, but it now had a reputiation.

And it was one that was well earned. The scream of the dying soldier was heard by all. They took longer that the previous victims, and their last contorlled movement was to point to their hindfoot, but the armoured boot was perfectly intact.

After that no one would go near the armour, it had a bad reputaiton, it would be boxed up and returned to the Homeworld for display in some museum or other. Thus is was only two human bearers cleaning it before transport who were present when the small shape fell out of the toe of the boot.

“Careful matel! Funnel web!”

“Dead now. That explains a lot though. I guess tiger proof doesn’t mean spider-proof, and they LOVE dark spaces to hide in. Doubt the bite would show up on mottled skin like theirs.”

”Should we tell our high and mighty masters in case there are any more about?”

They exchanged a gleefully malevolent look and shared a smile.

“Why trouble them with such a trivial little matter.”

After a month it was exceedingly clear that the human concept of friendship was NOT a state of mutual trust and support but perhaps fear and subjugation from nature. Perhaps it was one of those clever tricks the humans used to lure each other to death, just like the fabled ‘greenland’

You see, having learned their lessons in “Australia” they chose to settle in near the old human civilization, where the humans had razed the landscape to set up personal habitats, driving the wildlife back.

How were they to know that driving back meant only about 10 feet, because after a rain, a massive beast heralding from millions of earth years came out of the water and ripped Lieutenant Grakshw into pieces in broad daylight. Attempts to recover his plated insignia for his family was met with a CONFLAGRATION of about 20 vicious writhing snakes that were very soon found to be venomous, as the loss of Captain M'gbrak soon proved.

Immediate restructuring of the fence separating the encampment from the ‘bayou’ seemed to work for precisely one week…

Like most of this death world, the area was prone to hurricanes and tornadoes for most of the year. The human built habitats seemed to weather it poorly, with many having bits blown off, exposing their vehicle ports or bathing dens to the elements.

The exploratory team did not account for what the humans kept in their homes. There were many canine and feline miniatures that they of course had protocol for.

They did not have protocol for the beasts with claws the length of their chest that were very hungry after their human handlers were removed

According to the human guide of sub class “control officer” many upstanding human homes in human sub colony “texas” kept full size predators (lions, tigers, and bears, …..no home) as pets and as it was legal in this dont as long as the animal was fed, there was no documentation on where or how many were hidden away.

The final transmission from settlement group Xyytar-B came from their designated human actually HOLDING several of the venomous beings that slaughtered M'gbrak in a flimsy plastic tub. Her accent was as hard to translate as ever:

“Yea y'all really fucked up when ya tried to poof us all. Now the tigers are hungry and the wolves are breaking out of their yards. Try watching animal cops before picking a habitat next time. Animal control out”

….

While the takeover of “Earth” was slow, and the humans only gave information after a life was lost, Na'axi would say they made progress.

Their squad, consisting of twenty, were sent to what the Humans called “South America”, and in a place called the “Amazon”. While the human looked scared, there surely cant be a place worse than “Australia”, right? Plus, Squad 024 was fitted with the best armours, no “Tigers” or even “Bears” could penetrate. (they weren’t quick to test the theory though) They even have a cooling system in case of “Japanese Honeybees” and antidotes for most natural poisons (though they dont know how they were poisoned in the first place, the Humans refuse to help)

So with confidence high and alertness even more so, Squad 024 traveled into the dense “Amazon Rainforest” in case there were anymore human settlements.

.

This mission was a mistake and the armour was not as it was advertised. Squad 024 had travelled by land, facing several creatures, losing Ja'ix to a “Jaguar” when the squad took a break near a small tree. They lost Fa'lu to a “Harpy Eagle” when they tried to have their meal. And the leader Guo'fi was killed by a poison that was unknown. Five more were lost to various diseases. The onsite Human, while he did tell them the names of such creatures, refused to tell them more.

So with Na'axi as the new leader, they decided to have Squad 024 travel by water. The Human had refused to get on the small travel ship, but was eventually forced on. Squad 024 was weary about what could be in these waters, but it was much too shallow for the “Giant Squids” and “Sharks” to be in.

Na'axi wished that they stuck to land. The “Amazon River” was so much worse than Australia, at least there they could see what was coming. The water was shallow, yes, but it was murky and full of tree roots. They didnt see the “Snake” coming. It was three Qwaxels long and had a crushing power sting enough to stop the blood flow of Ca'er, who had suffered and died. The human called it a “Python” and he was scared of the snake. The snake killed another, Ma'ox.

After they succeeded in getting the snake off the boat, they travelled upriver, trying to find a place to dock. Vi'to had fallen into the waters, scraping his arm on a tree branch.

The human was the first to see the dangers apparently, seeing as they jumped off the boat and onto the low hanging branch, around six feet above the water. Vi'to was only bones and green blood in a matter of minutes. “Piranhas” the human called the flesh eating fish. The second boat they had tipped over due to the splashing waters. Six were on that boat.

Ja'ju had petted a small colourful frog before they died soon after. The human stood ten feet away from the “Poison Dart Frogs”. Ja'ju hadn’t expected humans to name them so literally.

By the time they got back, it was only Na'axi and their last two squad members, Ja'on and To'as, as well as the human.

“We are never going down there again” Na'axi said.

…..

(I’m not very good at writing but I wanted to make an input, also I wanted to incorporate snakes more but I dunno what happened)

You know. On the farm.

And wishing (”whining”) he could spend more times with his friends (who are very questionably friends, but what are you gonna do when there’s no one else your age to hang out with and Biggs is gone) because while he knows he needs to help Owen and Beru with the farm, he has other desires, and even if hanging with his friends aren’t exactly that (like leaving Tatooine), it’s the next best thing.

I mean, aside from flying the skyhopper but I imagine it doesn’t hold quite the same charm without Biggs, as much as he loves flying and probably does it as much as he can.

But you know.

Working. Because he has to for their livelihood. But I guess making “jokes” about Luke being “whiny” is funny.

I wish folks would take note of Luke’s dialogue with Owen at the beginning of A New Hope.  He suggests that now that Owen has the two droids, he can hire a couple of farmhands and Luke can finally get off planet like he’s wanted to.

It would take Owen multiple people and two droids to replace the work that Luke does on the farm.  That is pretty clear indication that Luke is working a fairly grueling, punishing schedule.

This is not a knock on Owen, because it certainly seems like Owen and Beru work as hard as Luke does.  But they are poor.  They live on a planet where their source of income is pulling moisture out of the sky, while raiders, slavers, and Jabba the Hutt are all within spitting distance.

And the poor kid gets perpetually knocked for the fact that he wants to take a break and hang out with his friends a bit.  Or the fact that he’s disappointed he can’t get off this hellhole planet.

I haven’t been keeping up with Rogue One spoilers, so I can’t talk about Jyn, but Leia is another story.

Leia’s accomplishments are impressive, and this is not intended to dismiss that.  But Leia had time and opportunity to accomplish those things.  She can afford to focus on politics and intrigue because as a Princess, she doesn’t need to worry about food, water, or shelter.  She has access to educational materials that Luke can’t even dream of.  She knows influential people and can make social connections.  The only powerful social connection Luke could possibly make is a creepy Hutt with a dancer fetish.

And, on the flip side: Luke is the single solitary hero in any generation of Star Wars canon whom we ever see doing teenager-appropriate things as a teenager.

Padmé, Anakin, Ahsoka, Kanan, Leia, Ezra, Finn, Rey… Only a couple of them even had normal early childhoods. Every single one of them was shouldering adult responsibilities and/or being shaped for a purpose they didn’t choose as an adolescent.

“Audio recording by-”

Jon cut himself off, staring at the statement in his hands. He glanced at the tape recorder on the wooden table in front of him, still whirring. What was he now? Surely his official title at the Institute no longer mattered. And like Elias said, calling himself the Archivist was a misnomer. Was he the Archives, nothing more than a collection of other people’s experiences?

Drawing a shaky breath in, Jon restarted, “Audio recording by the entity formerly known as Jonathan Sims.”

“No. You’re not starting them like that,” Martin interrupted, walking in through the door connecting the kitchen and the dining room.

 The storm came on suddenly. It had been years since Akito had seen a storm quite like that - he recognised it instantly. That magic was unmistakable, electric in his blood. 

His breath caught in his throat. 

It could be said that they had something on the crush on Kellan back when they were at college together - the man was as striking as his craft, as the lightning bolts that had smite down the mage hunters with a wrath and precision worthy of a vicious god. 

He’d changed a little over the years since they had last seen each other, but Kellan was still the handsome young man that he had always been. He came to a stop before the bars of Akito’s cage and examined him for a beat, a really quite inappropriate small smile on his lips.

“Is this funny to you?” Akito asked, though perhaps he should have been politer to his saviour.

“Serendipitous,” Kellan replied. He traced a finger down the cool metal. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” 

“You know who I am?” 

Kellan’s smile grew. He crouched down, close to the bars not high enough to let Akito stand, so that their faces were level. “I know all the talented young things, and you were the most talented of all of them. I wish I had been less caught up on ages groups then. But perhaps it is fate that we should meet now, hm?”

“Perhaps,” Akito echoed, unable to believe this was the one conversation he’d ever had with Kellan of Stormhold. His family was legendary among mages, and his reputation even more so to all who had heard the dark whispers of his most recent pursuits. “I owe you a life debt.”

“I haven’t saved you yet. Would you like me to?” Kellan’s head tilted. “I’m a little disappointed, despite the serendipity, that you of all people got yourself caught by this lot. It was careless.”

“I mean.” What kind of question was that? What kind of comment? Akito bristled. “Why the hell would you leave me in a cage?” 

“One could make the argument that if you are stupid or weak enough to get yourself caught by this lot that you deserve your fate.”

“I was buying time for my friends to get away.”

“Ah, stupid then.”

Akito glared at him, a stubborn set creeping into his jaw. Yet, despite that, he had to reluctantly admit that Kellan lived up to his every expectation and memory. The very air around him crackled. It made the hair on the back of Akito’s skin rise like a storm warning. Where Akito had always been commended for his impeccable control of his gifts over water, Kellan was much more like the element they both controlled. Unpredictable, wild. Dangerous. Never quite water, never fully sky. 

Kellan laughed. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll save you.”

Akito melted in relief, not sure he could bear another moment in the cage.

“On one condition,” Kellan said. “Kiss me.”

The silence stretched for a heart beat, too. Akito willed his voice to come out steady. “Excuse me?” His voice did not come out steady. 

“Promise to give me a kiss when you’re free, and I’ll free you.” 

Heat boiled to the surface. Akito’s face flushed, his heart giving a hopeless little skitter. He cleared his throat. “Okay.” 

“How quick you are to agree,” Kellan purred, “even knowing what I have become.”

“Hey, I just don’t want to die in a cage with mage hunters.”

“As you say.” Kellan still sounded amused. He touched his hand to the lock with another burst of electricity, shattering it. The door sprung open..

Akito crawled out, not having time to rise off his knees before Kellan caught his chin between his fingers and kissed him hard. It was lightning; a storm, both beautiful and too much and capable of such destruction. All anyone could do against a kiss like that was brace it and try not to get swept away. Akito had always been commended over his impeccable control. He had no control whatsoever as a small moan rose unbidden to his mouth and the storm above them grew more powerful than ever as his own rain pelted towards the ground. They could flood the world together, he knew it then. Akito shuddered.

“I,” Kellan bit his lip. “Am going to look forward to shattering every inch of control you ever had. It always pissed me off.”

Akito’s fingers dug into his jacket, clutching tight. Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed. 

It was around that point that his friends turned up for a belated rescue mission.

—

I would go most anywhere to find where I belong

you’re in the pocket of Big Ball, I see

there’s no pocket for me to BE in, there’s no LOBBYING involved, there’s no SUPPRESSION campaign because you don’t need one! traditional methods suppress themselves when you make modern pokéballs available. you might as well start accusing AT&T of deliberately suppressing the noble traditional art form of the goddamn semaphore.

not to mention OP demonstrates a total lack of understanding of the market realities of the pokéball industry- Silph and Devon are not monopolies, if they weren’t in constant competition their magic monster domination spheres wouldn’t cost two bucks a pop. the ball spec is a public standard, and Bill Masaki’s storage system based on that standard is an open-source project. they’re only the two largest players because they’re able to leverage economies of scale. you still get smaller operations like the Laverre City Poké Ball Factory, with better regional supply chains and local brand recognition, making room for themselves in the market. 

Almost two decades ago the world’s best ‘modern fairytale’ fantasy tv series was made. Before all the new ones with edgy writing and bundles of CGI. While I visited @sugarkillsall we watched it and found out the whole thing is actually on YouTube so I can freely advise everyone to CHECK THIS SERIES OUT this very second. 

It’s sometimes silly and campy but when you get to the end it smacks you full across the face with the most genuine, raw character development. It brings me to tears even 20 years later. It has the guy from Blade Runner in it.

The story: all our old fairytales are the true history of a world in a parallel dimension. Separated into 9 kingdoms, it’s been 200 years since the golden age of the Five Women Who Changed History - Snow White, Cinderella, Queen Riding Hood, Gretel the Great and the Lady Rapunzel. Snow White’s descendant, Prince Wendell, is soon to be crowned King of the 4th kingdom, but an evil Queen imprisoned for years has been plotting her escape and revenge against his family. 

In New York, a Central Park waitress named Virginia ends up finding the gateway to the fantasy realm with her father Tony. She rejects the idea that it’s her destiny to stop the Queen, but will find out the world of magic and legend holds answers she has wanted for most of her life. They also meet Wolf, a half-wolf man who embodies hunger and lust in the way Big Bad Wolves do, sent to infiltrate them on the orders of the Queen, but who falls in love with Virginia at first sight. (He reminds me of an Edward Cullen written well - in constant despair over his conflicting urges but hamming it up to its fullest extent) (Also after Virginia rejects him he spends the entire series trying to find ways to improve himself until he can be worthy of her)

The series references many typical fairytale aspects and tropes, but is centrally tied to the story of Snow White, her grandson, and the stepmother who tried to poison her child with an apple out of jealousy. Virginia’s story is one of finding how to trust and love again after emotional trauma, and that the relationships you make yourself are stronger than the ones you’re born into.

Each episode comes to 1h20m long and there are 5 episodes. (These youtube vids run longer because part of the episode repeats and can be ignored, I assume to evade copyright rules)

Episode 1 (above): The opening of a portal in Central Park enables the two worlds to overlap. The Evil Queen escapes prison and turns Prince Wendell into a dog, who escapes to our world trying to find help before she takes over his entire realm. He returns with Virginia, her father Tony, and Wolf trying to catch them, transported through a magical travelling mirror. [Starts a little slow but doesn’t rush the characterisation]

Episode 2: After a prison escape, the mirror ends up on a boatful of random antiques, and the group chase after it to try and return home, requiring passing through a forest patrolled by the remorseless Huntsman. Virginia’s natural empathy gets her cursed. [6/10 slight unfortunate racism that wouldn’t fly nowadays]

Episode 3: The evil Queen’s supposed partner in crime, the Troll King, has gone rogue and is ravaging villages in the 4th kingdom against her plans. The mirror has ended up in a little country town and been set up as a prize in the annual village fair - for the winner of the best shepherdess competition, which Virginia must now try to win… but the Peep family, descended from Bo Peep herself, always take every prize. [10/10 repeat everything said in a west country accent for best viewing experience]

Episode 4: After discovering that the mirror is up for auction in Kissing Town, the group need to find a way to drastically increase their wealth to bid on it, and attempt gambling. However, the innate romanticism of the town nudges Wolf and Virginia closer, and puts Wolf in a crisis. They then trek to the underground dwarven mines in search of answers and find some unexpected ones. [Yeet that singing ring out of here 8/10]

Episode 5: Prince Wendell - or rather, the Queen’s fake Wendell, a dog in the body of the Prince, is finally to be crowned King, and dignitaries from every kingdom will attend. In a swamp Virginia discovers the forgotten crypt of the original evil stepmother, and learns how to defeat the Queen - and then doubts that she can go through with it. [GHGFG HEART HURTY]

And I’m going to spoil a little part near the end for how important I think it is, when Virginia meets the actual Snow White. The woman who was targeted for death for her sheer beauty. The legendary woman who was known objectively as The Fairest of Them All. She appears and she looks like this. 

She is not young and she is not thin, and she is the most gorgeous person the realm has ever known, and she retells her tale in her own words, from fleeing her home to biting a poisoned apple. She comforts Virginia for not knowing how to navigate a world, her world, of dangers and risks. 

“You’re still lost in the forest. But lonely, lost girls like us can rescue themselves. You are standing on the edge of greatness.”

“No I’m not! I’m not, I’m nothing… I’m useless.”

“You will one day be like me. You will be a great advisor to other lost girls. Come. Stand up.”

Virginia barely remembers her mother and has never had good loving advice from anyone and has grown to pretend she doesn’t need help, and gets one fleeting moment where she can admit her vulnerability and fear of being too worthless to be loved. And the most renowned woman in this universe tells her she’s going to be amazing. 

This short series is both a love letter and a deconstruction of the genre and it did it earlier and better than the slew of other modern ones which followed. It ties a magical fantasy together with a very complex and understandable emotional heart. Please give it a shot if you want a relatively short series with great characters to settle into! 

And if none of that convinced you, I’m begging you to watch this clip: