You were summoned to a fantasy world. As you are eager to begin your new life as the hero, the summoner explains: "Actually, our party already has one. In fact, you're only here because we need a human member in order for us to be officially recognized as a hero's party."
"Go on, you can do it!" You cheer half heartedly from the back line. On the actual battlefield, a well-toned elven woman flips over the minions, bringing her sword around to their backs. With elegance and grace, she glides between the ranks, dispatching one after another, while you wipe some sauce from the corner of your mouth.
The sandwiches you packed for the journey may have been packed a bit hastily, but damn they were still good. So good, but never quite filling, your stomach grumbling as you reach for another. So many fantastical ingredients were available to you, especially to your "hero's party". You simply needed to march into an establishment with your summoner and elvish companion close behind, and you got anything you wanted! It didn't even matter that you aren't the *real* hero. You get to sit back, relax.
The summoner, an older man with a greying beard, almost perfectly fitting the stereotype of a wise and gentle man, raises a tea pot from the table he had conjured before the battle began. Leaning forward from a deck chair too comfortable to be made of anything but magic, you raise your cup in thanks. The pair of you recline once again, observing the feats of your elvish companion.
Your stomach aches at the sight of it. In this world of magic, why would anyone wait for a human as a hero? They had one right here. Apparently, she'd been kicked out of her battalion for "disobeying orders". She said she was just too good at her job, but her superiors would never let her go alone. Something was muttered about "corruption of an arcane soul" but was brushed aside just as quickly as the arrows that had been aimed right at you. A lot of assassination attempts had been foiled by her. Afterall, you're needed. Without you, there would be no Hero's Party and a worse reputation. Without her, you'd be dead in the middle of the road. Without the Summoner, you all wouldn't be here together. On a mission to find the Throne of Great Evil.
You laughed at the sound of it at first, but you were quickly stared down. The fabled seat, made of igneous rock left behind by the last Evil Lord who perished in flames, was said to hold great power. The next Lord would be unknowable to all of this world until they finally took their place, where they would be imbued with the power of The Great Evil, bringing a thousand years of darkness. Until then, they had a plan. Find the Throne. Wait for the next Lord. Kill them before they sat down. Easy enough, especially with as many sandwiches you have packed.
You had been optimistic at the start. You didn't need to do much. Just sit back and let her do the work, but it had been so long! The Great Evil was always "coming". Always "growing". But never here! You half-wished you could just find the throne, lop off the head of whoever approached it, and get it over with. Where is it? You continue to wonder as your elvish companion finishes off the last minion with a flourish, sending his blood spraying in the dirt. You're sure as hell glad she's so capable. Growing stronger and stronger each day. With a destination of-
"So, which way next to the Throne of Great Evil?" Your elvish companion reaches down and takes one of your sandwiches, tearing into it. The sauce mixes with the blood still on her face.
Despite all the grand power of magic in this world, there's a feeling you trust more. Your gut. So far into your journey, close to its end, it churns when you look at her. You have a feeling that once you get to the Throne, you won't have to wait long to see who would approach it. You might have a lot more work to do than you originally planned.
You have been imprisoned for so long that you have completely lost track of time. You are not even sure whether those who imprisoned you are still alive. When finally someone came to check on you they were surprised to find you, claiming that the dungeon has been unused for centuries.
One thousand years. That was how long they said it had been since anyone had written about these sunken halls of igneous rock, hidden deep underground. The historian who had ventured here alone didn't expect to find anything much; just something - anything that could provide them the building blocks to help them uncover the secrets of the past. If they'd found nothing but the halls, that would have been fine. If they'd found some artefacts or records, as aged as they may be, that would be great. However, in the deepest room, walls of obsidian reflecting their torch light back as a shadow of itself, the historian found something far greater. They found a lingering soul.
A thousand years since anyone alive had been here. More, and you would have the day I first stepped foot in these halls, bound already by fate to remain for eternity. They asked me, so earnestly, what was the world like when I was alive? With eyes as innocent yet as seeking as a child, they pleaded with nothing much to offer except their limited experience. Knowledge of a way in. And out.
Over a thousand years ago, Destruction reigned. He had done so for centuries before, since the first tear in the sky appeared. We thought he would rule for centuries more until the sun faded to nothingness. Back in a time when soldiers were more plentiful than civilians, generals rode roughshod over fertile land, churning them into battlefields. Reasons for battles fell into distant memory, laid to rest with the bones who fell for a cause they once believed was righteous. Regardless, it became war for War's sake. Those who fell did not enrich the land, but were swallowed by it. Twisted and mangled, the land leeched the life from them, the very life they stole from it with blades and axes. Neither ended up more alive than the other.
Mages grasped and strangled the Radiance, the light of the world, and bent it to their will. With the excuse of "the pursuit of knowledge," they broke the light inside each other until only Dark remained. Arcane pursuit excused all manner of atrocities, rendered useless when no one was left amongst the ashes to make use of their knowledge; only onlookers who either feared Light more, or those whose curiosity would inevitably bring their own end.
Magic wielders were not the only ones overcome with Greed. As common folk starved and the idea of nothing grew closer, they scrambled and scratched and pinched and stole. Anything to avoid the idea of nothing, despite the fact they took from their fellows who would succumb to the very thing they feared. In that time, it did not matter. As long as One had something, there was no room for concern if others had nothing.
Power did not satisfy, no matter how much the people indulged. Always eating, never full. Always taking, never full. Always discovering, never learning. In a world made by Creation, Her ideals would would be her undoing.
Boundless creation was a problem that had always existed. A neverending tide approaching with more people, more problems, more suffering than a single world should take. In shame, She stepped away, leaving Destruction to right the balance, unaware it was the part of Her that was Him, the inevitable end to Creation, which set the events in motion. It was the part of Him that was Her, the little Creation he harboured, that kept the world suffering.
He had ruled for centuries. We believed he would rule for centuries more. From the state of the historian, I could tell it did not last. Hopeful. Horrified by the past, its acts so distant. There was something that gave them hope. "What about the gods?" They asked. "They couldn't have just stood by. They wouldn't."
They didn't, I reassured them. In the earliest of days, when souls were young and innocent, there were The Children. Kissed by Creation, they did not die. They did not falter in their ideals when faced with mortal dangers. That all changed with the Rise of Destruction. Facing their own corruption was Joy, Justice, Nature, and Knowledge. When He first rose into power, they tried to fight it. Joy brought Light where they could, standing by Justice's side to illuminate the righteous path. When She Who Knows fled, it all began to fall. The roots deep in the earth had already rotted, tainted by His touch. With a world harsh and unforgiving, there was no home for Joy. With a word and a curse, they were lost. As Justice lost his illumination, his targets became unclear. No colour, only black and white. There was still darkness to be culled, anything darker than the blinding light.
There were others, thought to be saviours as first. They stepped in, granted a Radiant aura people had only seen in the blessings from above. As above, so below, as the saying goes. Whether in plain sight or in the shadows, they were always here. They always would be, in one form or another.
Something to bring the young soul before me hope: there was always an end to Destruction. It was inevitable. Corruption would end or heal, fallen seas would rise again. The gods people knew became devoted to the good they craved to see. Gathered again, ideals one and the same, they turned their focus to the centre of our continent, where His throne stood tall as the day the magma spewed from the earth. Weapons drawn, Radiance gathered, the fight of generations followed.
The historian said they knew what happened next. Destruction fell but at a cost. In his fury, Justice was poised to strike the Elder God down in the name of his ideal, forgetting about his own safety. It would be his downfall. It was the sight of her Child being struck down that spurred Creation into action. A Light so bright, so strong, it drove Her counterpart deep within his own throne, smothered by the molten rock that spewed from its peak. As the heat fled with Her leaving, the dust cleared. Destruction was gone.
I had enlightened the historian. I held up my end of the deal. As they settled, trying to commit everything to memory, they relaxed. Occupied. Unaware.
I was not blessed with a kiss from Creation. I did not exude Radiance like Her Children, but I had been granted a gift. True insight into others minds, and how they turn. How they can be turned. The inevitable and the impossible were laid plain before me, the strings of fate to be pulled by me alone. The historian never asked how I came to be down here. I told them it was a sentence, in truth, but not entirely metaphorical. After all, who would They be if the Killer of Justice did not face God-made consequences? It was humorously mortal of them to seek revenge against the one who turned and corrupted them, too. It was the godly part of them that decided my fate, sealed by the seat of My Lord.
I had waited, knowing the day would come. People would forget their past. I would not. Through the centuries of servitude and the millennium of confinement, I held one thought. One faith. Things must end before they begin again. My time here must end, and I will raise Destruction, the natural balance to the world. The historian promised me a way out. I've waited a long while already, so I can wait a little longer, hidden in the back of my puppet's mind as I feel the sunlight on my face once again.
An analogy for the enjoyment of the five nights at freddy's movie:
Ice cream! They only had one flavour at first: vanilla. People enjoyed it. They wanted more. One flavour after another was released, giving basic flavours like chocolate and strawberry. People added their own little things to it to make it more enjoyable! Chocolate chips! Sauces! They might argue that they were already a part of the ice cream, but it was them who put it there.
After years of work, something big and new comes along. Cookies and Cream. It was made with "fans of ice cream" in mind! A lot of people enjoyed it! Little inclusions of things they love in something they can injest. Then there are the people who complain about the difference. It doesn't have chocolate chips! It doesn't have strawberry sauce! They forget that *they were the ones who put it there in the first place*.
Theorising is fun, but there's no need to get mad when a conclusion you came to isn't what the creator has in mind.
Enjoy your ice cream. Enjoy your additions. Enjoy both.
Let yourself smile widely when something makes you happy. Shut your eyes and savour the warmth of the sun. Let your hand linger on soft materials. Hug yourself deep into the cosiness of heavy blankets. Greet the birds in the trees and the cats in the street. Dance to the music that makes you happy. Cry to the sounds that resonate deep within.
Whether or not you recognise it, you have been happy. You have been sad. You have been tense. You have been excited. You have been you. In most cases, there should be no harm to externally expressing that.
It's time to let yourself feel. Internally and externally.
magic system where “dark magic” and “light magic” are literal terms - dark magic consumes photons, making an area around the spell visibly darker, sometimes to an Extreme extent, and light magic releases photons.
because of this most dark mages tend to work in very brightly-lit areas (either artificial light or outside in the daytime) to fuel their spells and wear and use lightly coloured clothes and tools so that they’re easier to see in the dimness their spells create, whereas light mages wear heavy, sometimes leaden robes (depending on the work being done) and the magical equivalent of welding masks to protect themselves from what can be an extreme amount of light, and sometimes other kinds of electromagnet radiation!
needless to say this is incredibly confusing for anyone unfamiliar with the culture
due to the fact that both magics react with basically all of the electromagnetic spectrum - not just the visible light part of it - dark magic is enormously useful for radiation protection (uv-eating spellwork as sunscreen, anyone?), but also has the slightly uncomfortable effect of eating infared as well - which does have the effect of making areas around powerful or prolonged dark magic uncomfortably chilly.
nothing that a nice fur coat or enchanted light-magic IR-emitting lamps can't fix!
These folks watched a whole ass movie not realizing the main character was transgender and it was a 2 second kiss between men that made them lose their ever-loving minds.
It's amazing to me that if it weren't for those 2 seconds, many of these folks would have given this movie a 4 or 5 star review. But two seconds of the most vanilla, non-sexy, yet genuine and loving kiss somehow ruined every moment of enjoyment the previous 90 minutes brought them.
Imagine if they realized the trans allegory. I wish I had a way to tell them. I wish I had a way to make them realize they related to a trans character. That they rooted for them. That they accidentally empathized with a trans story.
This was a beautiful movie. In every sense. I really hope between this and Spider-Verse, we can have a moratorium on every 3D animated movie using this style of character design.
It's time to let go of the rubber toy look.
I love Toy Story, but its success kind of doomed 3D animation to never take any risks. I thought maybe it was just a limitation of the medium, and perhaps it was for a time... but after seeing Love Death + Robots and Arcane...
I realized they can make 3D animation look however the hell they want now.
The rubber people were just risk avoidance.
"That's what people are used to and so we're sticking with it."
But the real beauty of Nimona was the story. I won't spoil it but the plot is pretty much, "If you get to know a trans person, you probably won't hate them anymore."
Not knowing any trans people is one of the biggest factors in anti-trans bigotry. And so this movie uses allegory to let an audience get to know a trans person. And you get to experience someone slowly start to understand what it is to be trans from an outside perspective.
It's sad that will probably be lost on those folks above because all they will remember is the kiss. Seriously, it was such a harmless, mundane, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss. But I'm hoping that others will take the lesson of this movie to heart. That you should get to know people before you judge them.
Part of me does wish we could tell trans stories without allegory. That we could just have overt trans characters. But I think this is the best representation possible right now.
It's crazy that Supergirl was one of the bravest shows as far as modern trans representation. It wasn't an edgy HBO drama trying to push boundaries. It was a family-friendly superhero show and they were just like, "Here is a transgender woman with superpowers and it's fine." And I loved that it was part of the character but it wasn't all the character was. Though I think they just missed the manufactured "moral panic" window where that choice would have been extremely controversial causing boycotts of Warner Bros. and whatnot.
My only complaint about Nimona was a small penis joke. It went by very quickly and many may even miss it. But I was surprised to see it in this movie in particular. Especially since those jokes can have collateral damage toward trans folks. With all of the positive messages, wasting a joke on body shaming was a tad disappointing. I mean, it was a fairly lighthearted "Is it cold in here?" joke. I don't want to make it sound worse than it was. But it still registered on my Richter scale of things that bother me.
Anyway, I wholeheartedly give Nimona a 5 out of 5. It helped me understand my friends on a deeper level and it was warm and funny and entertaining. There was a scene at the end that was so beautiful and heart-wrenching and I was crying my eyes out. The animation and the symbolism and the acting were just so perfect.
It's a shame Disney tried to kill this movie. But I am so glad it was allowed to exist despite that.
my brain just spat out what is simultaneously the best and worst potential end credit scene for fnaf
a bunch of cops are surveying the inside of the wreckage of freddy's. there's dead bodies. they're taking pictures. chatting amongst themselves. whatever. one guy in a detective style trenchcoat is standing off to the side. his back is to the camera. one of the cops breaks away and approaches the detective guy.
"so, what do you think happened here?"
"i'm not sure."
the entire audience freezes in horror as they realize. they know that voice. the camera pans around to face the guy, and slowly. matpat removes the sunglasses he's wearing indoors.
"but i have a theory."
smash cut to black. the theater collapses, killing me, in the audience, instantly--
