Finished Uncharted 4 and I’m actually really happy with the way Nate and Elena’s arc was resolved. It’s funny because after all the media I’ve consumed, the first inclination when Nate started lying to Elena was ‘shitty writing’. I’m sitting there wondering why the hell he wouldn’t tell her when if he did, she’d be right there by his side, swinging through jungles and saving his ass to help his brother just like she did for three other games.
I’d been conditioned to think they just fucking forgot who Elena was, that she was just as good at the climbing and shooting as Nate, that she was the one who wanted to keep going after El Dorado after Nate decided to call it quits, that she was the one always reminding him about the fate of the world, that she was the one out there to save people, not just for treasure. I’d expected that they’d fuck up her character, make her into the nag, make her into the helicopter wife, make her into something she wasn’t.
There was the moment when she was talking about the Malaysia job in the beginning like she knew he was getting wanderlusty and she would’ve been ok with it, there were times when Sully gave disapproving looks to Nate, but I expected any drama to happen from that to be an overreaction on her part, a kidnapping, and a save the day and win the girl situation. What we got was so much better.
Elena saves the day a handful more times, proves she’s not just a passive player in this game, proves she can handle herself, Nate falls for her all over again, he seems genuinely remorseful, she doesn’t just forgive him instantly, they have a real conversation spread across multiple levels to discuss why he did what he did, why she almost didn’t come back, why she did, and why it was fucked up that he put her in that position in the first place. Then she heads into the jungle to save his brother because that’s who she is. When they get separated and Nate has to go after Sam, she tells him to do it but to make sure he comes back.
It pissed me off because Nate was hurting her, but Nate’s lying was a character flaw that he addressed by the end, not ‘shitty writing’. I was pissed at Nate, not the writers. This wasn’t Mon-El taking Kara into the dream world to be forgiven when Alex “I come back with my sister or I don’t come back at all” Danvers was standing right there. This wasn’t ‘all will be forgiven with heroics and treasure’ like Sam implied after Elena walked out. This was a man making a mistake and growing from the fallout… and yeah… their parting goodbye as they separated made me misty.
Characters should have flaws. They should make mistakes. They should be punished for those mistakes by the world they live in, and they should be allowed to grow (or allowed to continue to make mistakes and suffer for them). Flaws shouldn’t be ignored and mistakes shouldn’t be rewarded. It’s nice to see it actually work that way for once.
Horrible-fateful-story-of-fateful horrible-fate time
[SPOILERS FOR HEART OF THORNS STORY]
So way back when I first start playing gw2, I make my first character Ailex Decidua, a sylvari engie. as I’m going through the PS for the first time accompanied by my friend & mmo-mentor Bean I get to the part where you have to wield Caladbolg to kill that lich. Being a baby pistol engie and used to ranging everything, I did not take to caladbolg’s slow and cumbersome skills, and spent the whole story instance roasting it and calling it stupid names. When the instance was finally over I felt like, god, finally, I hope I NEVER have to see that freaking sword EVER again. To my relief caladbolg leaves me well enough alone, only coming up in conversation every once in a while to the tune of “heh, remember caladbolg? man that sword sucked. glad I only had to use it that once. lmao”
anyway. Later of course comes CLORE ISLAND and I meet trahearne (bean: ”you met trahearne already don’t you remember? earlier in your story” me: “no? Idon’t remember that? also his face is freaky looking?”) and I’m all set to begin roasting him as well, because bean warned me about his controversial position in the story. However at some point, some checkpoint bugs and the scenario stalls, and as I’m yakkety-saxing around looking for a solution I notice that trahearne has been repeating the same phrase to me, over and over
and that’s the moment I fell in love.
From that point on trahearne could do no wrong in my eyes. Every behavioral programming anomaly, every incorrectly looped idle animation, every melodramatic line delivered as dry as a saltine cracker, only served to deepen my admiration for this beautiful, brave, broken (most of the time, literally, broken) ugly tree man who probably smells. I’d given myself away completely to being a supporting character in his story, even if just so I could continue to hear as many of his endearing badly-timed/tonally-inappropriate combat interjections as possible. HOWEVER when he was bequeathed Caladbolg, my bane, I had to laugh at that like “haha you both are terrible and unhelpful, you deserve eachother. But seriously keep that thing away from me”
so fast forward again a few years, HoT is about to come out and I’m bouncing like hot damn I can’t wait to rescue trahearne in the jungle and then marry him and live in a knothole and raise jungle quaggans(?) and swing around on vines together forever while mordremoth eats everyone else on the planet. After LA is rebuilt I notice that some of the NPCs use the same voice actor as trahearne so I think wooOOHOO? that means trahearne will have speaking roles in HoT. Ailex’s Happily Ever After: Confirmed.
“Behind every lion awaits a lazy dragonfly,” roars Benjamin
Clementine in his fierce, androgynous, abrasively beautiful voice in one
of the restless tunes on the extraordinary I Tell a Fly.
this second album – a theater piece-turned-sonic adventure — the
pianist, poet and composer takes the insect as his muse, following its
circular self-scatterings as it whizzes across borders and sneaks into
dangerous rooms. It’s a metamorphosis that acknowledges a particular,
In 1915, the novelist Franz Kafka created his
six-legged antihero, Gregor Samsa, as an embodiment of capitalism’s
tendency to isolate and disempower its minions. Nearly 75 years later,
the critic Greg Tate coined the term “flyboy in the buttermilk” to
describe how the graffiti genius Jean-Michel Basquiat disrupted the
tacit white supremacism of the art world.
Then there are the pop stars:
U2’s Bono, ubiquitous rock star of Clementine’s British youth, becoming
the character The Fly in 1991 as a way exploring the sticky mess of
late-century globalization; and Miles Davis, who (as Kodwo Eshun writes)
donned “bug-green fly shades” for 1975’s electric Dark Magus
as a way of “adapting to the audiomenagerie by becoming insectile
Miles and Kafka, Bono and Basquiat: Benjamin Clementine
recognizes the fly’s language as the common tongue of art made in a
world where people’s skeletons have become too soft to absorb society’s
The title I Tell a Fly is the first example of
the album’s sneaky wordplay – a play on “I tell a lie,” just as “a lie”
contains the first three letters of Clementine’s keyword: alien.
seeing the phrase “an alien with extraordinary abilities ” written on
his visa to America, Clementine began considering what that designation
means across lines of class, race or nation, and even over the course of
I Tell a Fly loosely follows a pair of winged
creatures as they flit through various border scenes. They visit the
notorious refugee camps outside Calais in “God Save the Jungle,”
encounter a French fascist in “Paris Cor Blimey,” and make fun of a
privileged “American chap” in “Ode From Joyce,” which interpolates Joyce
Kilmer’s famous corny poem “Trees.” Like some dirty Dr. Seussian Lorax,
Clementine speaks for the flies, who with their compound eyes can see
the connections between intimate cruelties and the evils of empire.
album’s mazelike centerpiece, “Phantom of Aleppoville,” moves on the
current of Clementine’s piano through his memories of childhood bullying
and into the bomb-strewn battlefields of the Middle East. “Awkward
Fish” matches harpsichord sounds to a grimy drumbeat to make fabulist
the story of an immigrant boy in South London.
“By the Ports of Europe”
imagines the influx of immigrants into Western Europe as a version of
the Biblical tale of Noah. Mashing up myth and memory, Clementine
ponders the effects of imposed borders: around countries, between
children who begin as equals but are divided through prejudice, and in
his own psyche.
“They say you must become an animal for the animal to
protect us, the good animal and so we go to war,” he sings in the somber
“Quintessence.” Clementine is, as others have written, a musical George
Orwell for our time.
Clementine’s sometimes unhinged-seeming musicality is as
dazzling as is his poetic vision. His lyrical wordplay extends into
vocal and instrumental polyphony, accomplishing his goal of generating
multiple viewpoints with in each song.
The song suites on I Tell a Fly,
produced and largely performed by the artist, incorporate a huge
variety of sounds, from Clementine’s neo-classical piano runs to
Radiohead-style math rock, from multi-tracked choirs of Clementine’s own
voice to buried atonal babble, from the Blur-like, accessible “Jupiter”
to the Soweto beat-grounded progressive rock of “Ave Dreamers.”
takes time to absorb the shifting soundscapes of I Tell a Fly – like the fugitive realities so many 21st-century
people inhabit, it’s as difficult as it can be beautiful.
Clementine’s exuberantly subversive spirit makes the journey worthwhile,
and ultimately hopeful. “Barbarians are coming!” he wails at the end of
this remarkable journey. “Dreamers stay strong!”
It’s a warning and an
exhortation: Follow the path of the creature you want to swat, and you
may find your way. [Read More]
INJUSTICE 2 #9
Written by TOM TAYLOR
Art by DANIEL SAMPERE and JUAN ALBARRAN
Cover by DALE KEOWN
Batman, Batgirl and their team—including a couple of important new recruits—mount a daring rescue mission into the jungle to save a group of children from the clutches of Ra’s al Ghul and his Suicide Squad! But Ra’s is prepared for any contingency, and this may be a one-way mission for some of the team.
On sale SEPTEMBER 6 • 32 pg, FC, $2.99 US • RATED T+ • DIGITAL FIRST
INJUSTICE 2 10
Written by TOM TAYLOR
Art by DANIEL SAMPERE and JUAN ALBARRAN
Cover by BRUNO REDONDO
The rescue mission reaches a critical point. Harley Quinn puts her life on the line in a display of heroic defiance while Wildcat faces off against the fake Batman. And the kidnapped kids show that they are not without resources of their own!
On sale SEPTEMBER 20 • 32 pg, FC, $2.99 US • RATED T+ • DIGITAL FIRST
Being a kickass girl on a kickass team, snoring in detention and clicking your combat boots, rocking out to your favorite metal band, making unlikely friends you can’t live without, getting caught up in a war you know you’re gonna win.
Supergirl Saving Jane || Braveheart Neon Jungle || You Know You Like It AlunaGeorge || Mystery Song Bassnectar || I Just Can’t Deny Keys N Krates || Do My Thing(DJ Incrediboi Remix) Estelle feat. Janelle Monae || Daylight Robbery (The Heaven and Earth Division Remix) Imogen Heap || Unstoppable (Will Sparks Remix) R3hab feat. Eva Simmons || One Woman Army Porcelain Black
A/N: I read an amazing jungle boy calum which you can find here, and it inspired me for this one!
“There, that should do it” I muttered, streaking the remaining mud on my hands onto my sister’s forehead.
She smiled and I could see all of the child like excitement in her eyes. For 11 years she was extremely bright, and she had decided from an early age that she wanted to be a hunter, like me. The hardest part for her was waiting until she became of age, so today – the day after her birthday – I finally gave in to her pleas to teach her. I took a step back and made her do a turn for me, making sure she was properly camouflaged. Her hair was a few shades lighter than mine, so I had to slick it back with mud, covering most of her face with it as well. She had on a rudimentary skirt of animal skin tied around her waist and a sash of forest leaves hung across her chest. She looked cute, but I knew within a few years her angelic face would be replaced with a ferocious one, like mine had a few years ago.
“How come I can’t look like you Y/N” she whined as I started putting mud on my face.
“Because you’re not an experienced hunter yet. With time and experience you’ll be able to dress yourself, but for the mean time you’ll have to just trust me.”
Her shoulders slumped only slightly, but picked up when I told her to make sure her bow was ready. I finished with my mud markings: stripes across my cheeks and from my forehead down to my chin. One last check as I made sure the animal hide covering my breasts was secure and the one around my waist was just as tight. I had adapted my attire for hunting after several experienced mistakes. After being spotted by a jaguar and being chased, I would have gotten caught if I hadn’t jumped off the nearby waterfall. After that experience I made sure there were long slits in either side of my makeshift skirt so running was easier, and I wrapped a strip of hide over my breasts as I found they got in the way and hindered my movements. So now I had perfected your attire, and I finished my cameo with sprigs of leaves in hair. My hair was dark like the deepest cave, and wilder than the coursing river. The curls and coils were long and unruly, so when I stashed leaves and twigs inside then my face was all but swallowed and thus unnoticeable.
I grabbed my bow and arrows and slung them across my body, and put my knife in the side of my wrapped skirt. “Nia, c’mon we’re going to head out!” I called.
“Right here!” She sprang up right beside me, giving me a fright.
“Save it for the jungle you dung beetle,” I teased, lightly bumping her with my hip. She stuck out her tongue at me, but followed me into the dense foliage.
We chatted quietly when we were still in earshot of our community, but as soon as we passed the tree I had marked for reference, I quickly quieted down. I put my finger to my lips, signalling that we were not to talk from this point on. Even if she didn’t actually do any serious hunting today (which was probably the most likely scenario) there were still bigger and fiercer predators in the jungle, so we could never be too careful. I made sure to warn her about foreigners.
“Nia you should never approach them, they are greedy and conniving. They will take you away to sell you or try to exploit you or our community. They are not to be trusted,” I said vehemently, “Do you understand?” She nodded, eyes wide with fear, but I wasn’t sorry, she needed to be wary.
Foreigners were rare when I was her age, and I had only seen a small group of them from afar, but these days they frequented our surroundings more and more. They were loud and brazen, and had no respect for the forest in which they were trespassing. Most of the foreigners spoke English, a language very different from our own. However our grandmother, as well as the rest of the elders, insisted we all learn it due to the increased run-ins with them, so we would be able to speak up and advocate for our land and our home. I was more or less fluent, but Nia was still learning. So today I spoke in our mother tongue so she would understand this crucial first lesson.
We came to a small patch of tall grass, where I knelt down and Nia did the same. “Okay, so today you’re just going to practice your bow skills on trees. You have to build up your marksmanship and your accuracy before you try to hunt your prey.” I whispered her all of the words of warning that had been passed down through generations of hunters, and showed her how to hold her bow and how to breath and focus her energy. Once I felt that her posture and general form was adequate enough, I nodded and she followed me once again into the forest.
We walked some miles in silence, save for a few moments where I pointed out which plants were poisonous and which plants healed, both of which were advantageous while hunting. I spied a tree with low hanging fruit and I stopped abruptly. Worried, Nia stopped as well and stepped behind me, but I turned and smiled.
“Okay, this will be our first practice. Your goal is to pierce a fruit and pin it to the tree” I swiftly crouched and got my bow, took an arrow and let it soar through the air, smiling as it pierced the 2 fruits I aimed for and hit the tree. “Like that” I smirked.
My sister rolled her eyes, “Showoff” she muttered. I grinned for a moment before getting serious again.
“Okay now remember what I showed you, good…..just like that…” I spoke softly but firmly, making sure her form was perfect before giving her an arrow. “Alright, remember to breathe in……hold it….one two three…..breathe out and release.” She followed my instruction but just as she was exhaling she squeaked and let the arrow fly into obscurity. “Nia what was that!” I scolded.
“I felt something bite me! There was –” But her explanation was interrupted when we heard a loud yelp coming from the left of us.
“OW WHAT THE FUCK!” Oh no….. “SON OF A BITCH LUKE HELP ME GET THIS OUT!”
“Y/N what was that?” Nia looked terrified but I had to investigate, I knew that it was probably the arrow that landed in a rather undesirable place.
I put my bow and arrows beside my sister, “Nia stay here, don’t move unless I tell you to, understand?” She nodded and I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before I made my way to the source of noise, which was only becoming louder.
I ran until I spotted a group of 3 people about 5 feet away. They were very large, and all yelling. I could see one with hair dark like mine, but much much shorter. He was by far the loudest one, but I immediately understood when I saw the familiar arrow protruding from his arm. The other two guys were yelling just as loudly, visibly panicked and not at all helping. I made my way closer, pulling out my knife just in case. This boy needed help, because the way the arrow had gone in it wasn’t easy to just rip out. I knew I could help him, but I also knew that risked my safety as well as Nia’s. But his screams of pain were becoming unbearable, so I carefully stepped out of the foliage and into view. They didn’t notice me at first but once they did, the screams got louder (if that was even possible).
“Get away! Stay back!”
“Don’t kill us!”
“LUKE TAKE THIS FUCKING ARROW OUT OF MY ARM!”
“Stop! Stop! I can help!” I tried to yell over them but it was no use, so I marched up to the tall broad boy with hair like the burnt sand and punched him in the side, catching him as he collapsed and laid him on the ground as he struggled to breathe.
“Luke holy shit! Are you okay!” The injured boy yelled at his friend despite his own injury. I looked at the other one but he had shut up immediately after seeing me take down the blond one - Luke - although his eyes were screaming in fear.
“Stop! Please! I can help!” I yelled again, this time lowering my knife and carefully approaching. The boys had simmered but were looking at each other nervously. I sat down and motioned for the two to join me, “Come. I can take it out” I said. They were frozen to their spots, but I was growing impatient.
“Sit! Now! Before it gets worse!”
That did the trick as they hurriedly sat in front of me, watching my every move. “Arm.” The injured boy held out his arm with a choked cry, clearly in pain. I saw that the arrow was crooked, but it was only a flesh wound. I took out my knife which made the boys flinch.
“Please don’t cut off my arm” he pleaded, still in a frenzied shock.
I rolled my eyes before holding out the animal hide of my skirt. I made another 2 long cuts in the side to cut off 2 long strips. Putting my knife in my teeth I worked quickly. In a minute I had taken out the arrow and wrapped the strips of hide tightly around the wound. After I was finished I picked up the arrow and quietly made my way back.
“Wait!” I heard loud footsteps behind me and I turned to see the boy behind me, holding his arm and out of breath. I stopped and looked at him warily, but he put up his hand in defence.
“I just wanted to thank you……My name is Calum by the way” His eyes were a brilliant brown, so warm and sincere, that I let my expression soften and I smiled softly at him.
“You’re welcome Calum,” I said, before turning away. But he grabbed my arm and out of habit I grabbed my knife and had it at his throat in 0.5 seconds. He all but jumped and after I realized he didn’t mean any harm I lowered my knife.
“S-Sorry, I-I uh, I just wanted to know if I can see you again?” he asked.
I paused before answering, “No.” I felt a wave of sadness as I watched his face crumble slightly, but I knew that I couldn’t jeopardize the safety of my community. “I’m sorry….” I added softly. I was a few steps ahead of him when I heard him yell again.
So i did a thing. made a mata/nuva mash up with revamped weapons. gave Pohatu some bad-ass cleavers, because he was lacking any. Mashed the old and the new weapons of Tahu, Lewa, and Kopaka together. and Gave Onua huge claws, and Gali some nice new removable hooks.
hope you guys like my take on these golden oldies.