#but i continue to because its accessable and easy to learn with and cheap

[stitchposts]

#i thought pretentious was the people that say there's a difference

no its still the norm for people to instinctively divide mediums of artworks into 'art' or 'craft.' As a fiber artist I get a lot of comments and takes like that on my work, which for this blog is embroidery. There's a lot of stigma against mediums that are traditionally the realm of women, in that these are more likely to be dismissed as 'crafts.' It's a very gendered split kinda baked into English itself and it's not one that gets examined a lot casually.

At this point in my rant if not earlier I usually get people trying to escape the conversation, hence my noting it's potentially a pretentious take to insist that maligned art be taken fucking seriously. It's not a popular idea that the average person wants to grapple with. But onwards I type.

Quite a lot of people are shocked specifically that my work is art -that they, the viewer, are mentally classing my work as art due to it being well executed and thought out, so it makes them grapple with their pre-held notions. Others assume incompetence of my own understanding of my fucking work, and point out planned details that I must not know about that add to the overall execution and impact of a piece. That I fucking stumbled into art by accident by virtue of being an embroiderer, which is not an 'art' medium.

Where does that attitude come from? It comes from the fact that 'crafts' are 'easy' to learn and execute, vs 'art' which is 'hard' to study and do well, and must be taken seriously. The really difficult technically skilled challenging things I achieve in my work are often only noticed by other fiber artists because of an assumption that embroidery as a medium doesn't have things like skill levels involved in it.

I personally think that sticking to only making 'crafts' because thats what you're allowed to suck at and get a jank result makes the world an actively worse place. Everyone should be able to try different arts and actively suck at it. But it's actively dogshit anger inducing when paid events are selling that back to consumers and reinforcing the division of craft vs art, especially back to women specifically. That's what sparked my original post - a local dating event is leaning in on cheap 'craft' aesthetics for 'friendship bracelets' a la taylor swift's pony bead bracelet style, as opposed to either actual weaving of traditional friendship bracelets or kandi bracelet accessories and rituals from raves and scene culture. I'm fucking mad because it's an incredibly bloodless and safe thing to cultivate among fans to build engagement, while having the promise of community with nearly no effort. Keeping an entire medium of art at one extremely specific derivative level that asks absolutely nothing of you creatively is genuinely maddening to me. And it goes right back to kandi bracelets and beading in general being extremely undervalued as art. Art doesn't have to de facto involve grueling suffering in the making process but I enjoy engaging with art that isn't pointless plastic waste in order to sell tickets to a dating event that keeps going 'teehee we're girls who are also friends! i'm just a girl and you're just a girl!'

So: Crafts are art, and art can be crafts. Soft garden parties offering me taylor swift's brand of cheap accessible consumerism and the continuing malignment of artforms are not for me.

Final bit because terfs are rampant on my blog lately and the post concerns undervalued women's work: fuck off, I am both trans and not a woman, go find your floral fascism elsewhere and stop trying to claim my work for your cause.

At the risk of sounding fucking pretentious we have got to stop building a barrier between 'arts' and 'crafts'

[centrally-unplanned]

Hot damn does this channel rock - finally someone willing to get into the real details of the production process, tool choices, org structures, etc over just being, a bird’s eye view. I have, through other *much* less accessible sources, learned a lot of of this information over the years, but it still has tons of great info that I am picking up from its videos.

The ‘intro’ video linked here is the most big picture, looking into how the individual staff members form a production pipeline and how their roles sit together, and it inspired some big-picture thoughts about how the anime industry over time is sort of a microcosm for the wider transformation in workforce structure that has happened over the years, and all the benefits (like efficiency) and issues (like inequality) that resulted from that. 

To recap for those who don’t know: Anime productions obviously have a ton of roles, but the core of any “shot” in a show are the key frame animators and the in-betweeners. The KFA’s start off a shot by drawing just a few of the most ‘important’ frames, that show off poses, positioning, effects, etc, which they sink a lot of time into for just a few frames. These are then passed on to in-betweeners, who draw the ‘rest’ of the frames (they actually re-draw the key frame via tracing as well, ty video!) that fill the space in-between the key frames, bridging those frames together to form a continuous animated shot. They spend much less time per frame doing this, which they can do since they are just tracing/altering the key frames. 

As you can probably guess the KFA’s have the ‘good’ job and the in-betweeners have the grunt-work ‘bad’ job. And you might not be appreciating how bad it is, but from a financial standpoint it is, uh, really bad. The average industry salary for an in-betweener in Japan full time is ~$10k a year. For comparison, the minimum wage full-time in Japan is ~$17.5K. They get away with it being way, way less than minimum wage by the usual trick of structuring it as contract work, which of course means it also includes absolutely no benefits. If you want to deep dive into how terrible these roles are, you can have at it.

So why do it? As the video points out, in-betweening can be essentially a mentorship. You can learn a ton from the process of seeing amazing key frames, interpreting them, and getting feedback on corrections, production speed, etc. And it is essentially mentorship because, in the early days of animation in Japan (so 1960′s-1970′s), it was *explicitly* a mentorship. Almost every animator would start as an in-betweener, work that way for 3-5 years, then be promoted to, well okay first to 2nd key frame animator, or in-between checkers, or maybe branch out to layouts, but *eventually* to key frame animator, and so on up the chain. It was essentially an apprenticeship, and that is how all companies worked in the 1950′s! Every division director of a company started out as a salesman, or desk analyst, or something, and promotions happened internally, and based on seniority. The low wages at the bottom were *justified* by the promise of future promotion.

But economies changed, and the anime industry did too. There are a million reasons why they changed, but for talent-based industries like anime, where the quality of a worker is in fact quite easy to observe, as the demand for anime skyrocketed the idea of trapping obviously-talented animators as in-betweeners for years to “pay their dues” made no sense. They left, joined new studios or founded their own, and by the 1990′s that system was totally falling apart. In-betweeners were no longer guaranteed promotions, and for many animators it would be the only job they would have in the industry for years before quitting entirely. Technology helped accelerate this - in the early days when animation was all done by hand, the in-betweeners and key animators sat in the same room, comparing notes and building connections, and letting younger animators learn from old. Now that they are all doing their work digitally, often they just get a file dump, and don’t even talk to each other (tons of org work has gone into building consistent ways of communicating, via notation on the drawings, expectations for what the in-betweeners need to do, so no meetings or human conversation is required. Efficiency! Also, alienation!).

And of course, as communication technology improved, wages stagnated, and demand increased, globalization came to the rescue. I don’t have solid figures, but I have definitely seen estimates that put the majority of in-betweening for Japanese animation being done overseas in Korea or China, where that 10k wage can go a lot farther (the town of Wuxi, in Jiangsu province, China, actually has an “Industrial Design” park almost solely devoted to doing outsourced Japanese animation work). This outsourcing is probably a net good thing for those workers, and for anime, don’t get me wrong! But as you can imagine, approximately zero of those Chinese or Korean animators get promoted into Japanese animation studios, while Japanese native in-betweeners are left competing with Chinese wages to afford a Japanese cost-of-living. All of these trends accelerate the winner-takes-all dynamic for the industry - just like every other industry in developed countries, neat!

But of course, its not like ‘outsourcing’ is new to anime - it was just done differently back in the 60′s and 70′s. Kyoto Animation is one of the most famous anime studios, and in particular is famous for having an uncommon number of female animation directors and leads. Certainly a big part of that is due to the fact that it started out as an outsourcing house for cel-painting for studios like Pierrot composed of otherwise-unemployed housewives picking up a side job! Female artists, just like female (and minority) workers in other industries, were the actual cheap labor backbone that justified the more ‘equitable’ salaries of the official workers for companies in the Good Ol’ Days. The inequity just shifted spatially, to new demographics, but has always been there. 

Yet there is something to be said for the fact that, of that early days Kyoto Amination clearing house approach, those women were almost all married to men in the animation (or other artistic) industries, and so those wages got pooled. They worked gruelling hours for less pay, but their *household* income was notably higher, as the men would universally have higher wages. Its how working for such wages got justified after all! If you are an in-betweener in Japan today, there is no such pooling, outside of by chance - yet the wage structure remains unmoved.

I think these days the plight of the in-betweener is increasingly well known, but to understand why its so I think the way the anime industry chased the trends in other industries helps not only understand it, but also understand the solution space, or in this case the lack thereof - what industries have solved this problem after all?

[afictionalwhore]

Learning Your Lesson

A/N: This isn't the first fanfic I've written, but it's the first I've finished. It's on the darker side, which I have no problem writing, I don't want my blog to be only that. That Keishin kitchen one is coming I just gotta get through finals. Thank you @kogo for the idea! You mentioned it, so I took it and bolted. 

TW: noncon/dubcon, yandere, phone sex, masturbation, implied drinking

"Baby," Hawks cooed into the phone, "what's wrong?"

It was in the middle of his night patrol when you called him, the ringtone specifically set for you jingling throughout the empty streets from his jacket pocket. When he picked up, he was met with your soft sobs on the other end of the line. 

"Keigo?" Your voice barely audible. "Can you come get me? I don't want to talk about it here."

"(y/n), what's the matter," Hawks says, voice dropping an octave.

“You were right, Keigo,” you sob. “I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have gone out tonight.”

“(Y/n),” Hawks said, the seriousness in his voice chilling you more thoroughly than the night air. “What happened?” He was growing restless, pacing the same alleyway. He told you not to go out. You should have listened to him. You should always listen to him. He can only hope you learned your lesson this time. 

Since you and the Number 2 Hero began dating, Hawks had grown increasingly paranoid about your safety. If it had been anyone else, Hawks' possessiveness over you could have been seen as controlling; you told yourself that he only had your safety in mind. Dating a pro hero, especially such a high ranking one, came with its dangers, and your quirklessness made you an even easier target. If anything happened to you, Hawks wouldn't know what to do with himself, a fact he constantly reminded you of. 

You insisted on going out with your friends tonight. “Keigo,” you whined, stretching his name out like you were one of his teenage fans, “Please. I haven’t seen them in months.” You were just a quirkless nobody, making minimum wage and barely scraping by to make rent and survive your shitty neighborhood. Scratch the latter bit. You were just a quirkless nobody, but since your relationship with Hawks kicked off, the pro had moved you into his apartment, a much safer, much more suitable place for you, and you know longer had to worry about your safety. Except on occasions like these. Your friends, all either quirkless or with minor quirks that would be useless in protecting you should anything happen, were gathering to celebrate an engagement, and surprise surprise they invited you.

Hawks tried his best to persuade you otherwise, listing all the dangers of going out without him, or going out at all, especially when you were dressed like that. Your little skirt falling just over your ass. Anyone could drop their wallet behind you and sneak a peek up your skirt. Your shirt was much too tight; and where was your jacket? You're just showing off the goods for everyone, like you were asking for something to happen.

But you could not, would not be swayed. You missed your friends. Though you loved Hawks, “It's Keigo, baby,” he would insist, you craved your friendships, and you were overjoyed to find that they didn’t hate you for practically disappearing on them since your relationship with Hawks, "Keigo", had become serious. 

“What happened?” Hawks repeated, his impatience growing.

“It all happened so quickly,” you sobbed.

“(y/n),” Hawks quite nearly growled out. “What. Happened.” You were really testing him right now, what with interrupting his patrol, albeit his boring, uneventful patrol. How could he help you when you weren't telling him what was wrong.

"I was leaving the bar. You remember which one?" Your voice shook. Hawks held back a scoff. Of course he knew where the bar was. It was the very bar frequented by the League, nestled neatly into the roughest area of town; it's inexpensiveness appealing to your friends' cheapness more than the potential danger drove them away. He told you they couldn't be trusted.

"Well I was leaving," You must be shaking like a leaf. Hawks can hear it in your voice. "And I get this feeling, like someone's following me. So I walk faster, and I—" you cut. Soft cries filled Hawks' ears as he listened.

Hawks can feel himself growing tighter in his pants as you cry. He knows where this is heading. He told you not to go, but you didn't listen. It would be rude of you to ask them to reschedule to a date when Hawks could more easily pick you up, or even better, accompany you. You were too overjoyed when they reached out with an invitation despite your disappearance in their life. But now here you were, sobbing—god how he loved your cries—to him over the phone because some asshole had roughed you up a bit. What did you expect leaving The League of Villains' bar alone at this ungodly hour? 

As angry as he was over your stupidity, he couldn't deny how hot you sounded in your current state. His arousal was confirmed by the decent tent forming in his uniform pants. After a quick scan of the area, Hawks found a nearby alleyway to slip into. He was thankful his designated area to patrol tonight was rather unlively. Leaning against the rough bricks, Hawks found himself quickly undoing his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. 

"Go on, baby," Hawks said. It took all his self control not to let so much as a slight hitch in his voice show as he encouraged you to talk.

"Keigo, please. I don't know why I have to tell you all right now." you sobbed. "Please, just come get me."

"Baby," Hawks drawled, suppressing a moan as he languidly stroked himself up to full hardness. "I don't want you to have to relive this more than you have to. So you just tell me now, as detailed as possible. I can fill out whatever reports you would need to for you, and you won't ever have to think about this again." It was hard for you to argue with Hawks in your fragile state. “I know what’s best for you, baby bird. Tell me everything.”

So you did. You told Keigo all about the strange man who you guessed had followed you out of the bar. Who would just be lurking outside the League's bar waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting quirkless? Hawks would bet his next several paychecks just who would be doing exactly that.

You told Hawks about the rough, calloused hand over your mouth accompanied by the low voice in your ear whispering that if you so much as made a squeak, you'd be cremated on the spot. Bingo. At least he wasn't losing much in a bet against himself. Judging by the state of his hard cock in his gloved hand, he was actually winning here. 

Hawks would have just laughed at you had he not been so fucking turned on. He would have to look past that cheesy "cremation" line. How did you not know who was lurking around the sleazy bar waiting for a hot piece of meat, for you, to stumble out the bar, drunk and alone. Were you always such an idiot? How did you ever survive without him?

You told him about how you had been unceremoniously dragged into the alley next to the bar and shoved face first into the bricks of one of the bar's outer walls. Hawks' eyes fluttered shut, his mouth hung up as his head fell back against the wall he braced himself against. His fist picked up the pace, imagining your soft protests and how lovely your weak, slurred cries of "please no" would have sounded as your skirt was flipped up and panties ripped through. Knowing your attacker, a hole very well could have been burned through for easy access. He'd have to check once he got you home and asleep. 

Hawks continued pumping himself as you continued your sob fest, jerking his foreskin up and down over his angry almost purple head. God how he wished to be there, listening to your sobs, cooing at you that everything was going to be okay as he kissed your tear stained, brick scratched cheeks and stroked a finger over that pretty, abused pussy of yours.

His gloved thumb rubbing over his slit, as he pictured how badly your insides were wrecked, how that jacob's ladder would have scraped against your warm plush walls. Were you even wet? You had to be. After all, only a slut would have gone out when he told them otherwise. He could only imagine how rough the man in question was with you and your pliant body. In your drunken state, how hard could you have fought back? Not very hard, Hawks had gotten you nice and drunk quite a number of times, and that was exactly why he protested you going out in the first place. His breathing grew heavier the closer he came to his release.

"Keigo?" your feeble voice called out over the phone's speaker. "Are you okay?"

"Yea, baby. I'm okay." Hawks collected himself. Pull yourself together, man. "Are you okay? I'm just so angry." that you didn't listen to me. 

"Keigo, are you close?" Oh he was close alright. Just a few more strokes, a few more sniffles and whines from you, and he would be right there. 

“Please, Keigo. Hurry up. I’m cold and scared. Keigo, I’m so scared.” That's all he needed.

“I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.” Hawks said, praying you couldn’t hear the breathlessness in his voice. His brilliant wings puffed and gave a few strained flutters before shaking tensely as his hand stilled and streaks of hot white fell on the dirty street below him. You weren’t the most intuitive, so you’d probably attribute it to his anger.

With his lust no longer clouding his mind, a sudden worry stuck Hawks. 

"Did he cum in you?" Hawks practically growled.

"What? No. Why are you asking me this?" your confusion briefly pausing your sobs.

"Just checking to see if you need me to make a stop by the pharmacy," Hawks explained as he stuffed himself back in his pants. "I'm on my way. I just have to make a quick call, baby. I love you." He zipped himself up and fixed his belt back into place. He shook out and stretched his wings. Hawks couldn't remember ever cumming that hard. 

"No. Keigo, please don't hang up," you hiccuped.

"Baby, baby," Hawks cooed, "I gotta let the commission know that I'm taking off early. You don't think I'd just continue working after this?" A smirk worked its way onto his handsome face. He could imagine your cute face scrunched into a pout. "Do you have that little faith in me? It's the least you could let me do before I leave patrol early for you. You think you learned your lesson?"

"Um," your voice trembles, Hawks’ last statement confusing you. "I suppose." You weren’t sure what your lesson was; you just wanted Keigo to take you home.

"Good girl,” a dark smile finds his way on Hawks’ face. I'll call you right back. I promise," Hawks reassures you, the fear in your voice as you feebly protested was almost enough to make him hard again. "I'll let you hang up, okay? I love you."

"Okay," you sniff, "I love you too." 

Hawks hears the light click signaling that you hung up and glances down at his phone for confirmation before quickly dialing another number, his smile growing darker as he waited out the ringing. After about three rings, Hawks broke out in a full smile, his crazed golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the alleyway he had hidden himself into. 

“What you do want now, ya fucking pigeon?” a rough, gravely voice answered.

“Thanks, Touya. I really owe you one.”

[jazinerambles]

Persona 2 Innocent Sin Review

I wanted to have some time in between playing the game and writing my thoughts for Persona 2 Innocent Sin. I will be referencing it and other Persona games so there may be some light spoilers for games 2-5. 

I played the psp version of the game on a Playstation TV. I beat the game at 76 hours on the dot. I have not completed most of the theater missions, but I have completed the main story of the game and did do a few sidequests.

My review will be organized in several sections-gameplay, story, music, characters, LGBTQ representation, extra content, wishlist and recommendation.

Gameplay:

Persona 2 Innocent Sin was released in 1999. Therefore plays as a game from 1999. The PSP rerelease updated menus, changed the difficulty, and added all out attack art similar to P3-P5 for the fusion spells. I love the all out attack animation and although the menus got a little cumbersome, it didn’t really impact gameplay for me. 

The biggest complaint about Persona 2 IS is how easy and repetitive it is and the high encounter rate. The battles for the most part are easy and if you set up all your attacks in the first round, you can basically use autoplay until an emergency occurs or you encounter an enemy in which you must change it up. 

I never saw the gameplay as repetitive as others do and I feel those who do only just battle and that’s it. I was constantly trying to get all the fusion spells, max up my personas to trade them for items, try different combinations for the demon negotiations and spread demon rumors to get items, spells, and cards (you need cards to summon new personas in the velvet room.) Demon negotiations also allow you a better look into each of the characters’ personalities and relationships. Events in the game will change how the characters react in these negotiations so it is always nice to go back to them throughout the course of the game. 

The demons you encounter have emotions. I believe they are intrigued, happy, angry and fearsome. Make them happy and they will offer a pact with you and give you free stuff and willing to spread rumors for you. Make them angry they will fight you. Make them fear you they will run away. Make them intrigued and you get the cards needed to summon personas and even more if you already have a pact with them. 

I wanted to return to the big complaint though, the high encounter rate. This was something that I felt hot and cold about. Most of the time this didn’t bother me, because I needed to level up my personas anyway. But when I needed to backtrack and explore further, it did get a little bothersome. 

You can use estoma to avoid enemies weaker than you. It is not a passive skill, so once you have a persona that has it, you have to cast it every time it wears off. At the Mu casino, you can also purchase a disguise kit that does the same thing, but it effects last about the same amount of time and it is ridiculously expensive. Just use estoma. 

As briefly mentioned above, unlike Persona 5 in which you can just catch Personas, in P2IS there are only two ways to get them. You get cards from demon negations, take those cards to the velvet room and then trade them in for a Persona. But you have to enough cards to summon it and the persona has to be 5 cards within your character level. 

You can also talk to the demon painter, for him to make you cards for the specific arcana you want by using blank cards. These are also given through demon negotiations that you have a pact with. 

In P2, ALL your characters are capable of changing out Personas, but their compatibility with different personas varies with their Arcana. 

The other way to get personas is through the story. There are certain actions that you must take to get the prime personas and then the final personas. These personas are character specific and you can’t give them to other characters. 

I wanted to talk about three more things before I move on to the story: rumormongers, fusion spells, and dungeons. 

Persona 2IS is based around rumors. Just like P3 is for the dark hour, P4 the midnight channel, P5 around palaces and so on...

To get certain items and progress the story, you MUST gather and spread rumors. There are five characters throughout the game called rumormongers. They will give you information in exchange for receiving information. You then share this information to the detective agency, pay a fee for them to spread them for you, and there you go. rumor spread. As mentioned earlier, there are also demon specific rumors. 

Fusion spells were something I really enjoyed in this game. Although hearing “Are you ready? Here goes” and “Let’s go everybody” will be stuck in my head for the rest of eternity...

Basically, to create a fusion spell, members in your party require a requisite spell and then that party member is placed in a specific order when taking turns. Once that spell is unlocked, it will let you know if you have the requisite spells and you no longer have to adjust the order of party members. Some of the spells you need to unlock fusion spells are persona specific. The fusion spells are elemental. 

I will not go into weaknesses of elemental spells, I am just going to say that you aren’t “down”’ed like you are in 3-5. 

Finally, my first real pet peeve with this game-the dungeons.

Oh boy. Air raid, AeroSpace and one of the four Zodiac dungeons (I am pretty sure its Eikichi’s) gets ALL my hate. There are cheap gimmicks that make the game artificially hard but only for these dungeons and more so, frustrating. 

But I am not going to go into detail why, and the other dungeons are not bad at all. But play the game and experience these dungeons for yourself. That is all I am going to say about that.

Story:

This section will be nowhere was long as gameplay. The story did not go where I thought it would, but that’s a good thing. I would go in completely blind if you can. The ending definitely surprised me a bit. I think it has one of the best stories of the persona games.

It does not follow a calendar like the later Persona games and time just blends together. By the end of the game, you won't know if a day, week or month passed from the beginning to the end.

Music:

The music is actually really good. It is the reason why I played the game in the first place. Just don’t look at the soundtracks names. Spotify has it available if you live in the US. You are better off listening to the soundtrack because I promise you that most dungeons songs will be cut off due to the frequency of battles. 

Some of my favorite songs are Smile Hirasaka, Unbreakable Tie, Kurosu’s theme, Joker and the Taurus dungeon’s theme.

Characters:

Despite Persona 2 not having social links, I feel like I know these characters better than some of the persona games that do have social links. It is also the only Persona game that I can say without any hesitation that I like the entire main cast. 

I truly love them all, but my favorite would probably be Yukino or Maya. 

Unlike other Personas, the dynamics for Persona 2 IS are different, because not all of your party members are high school students. The adult characters have adult problems, the high school students have high school problems, and all of them have deep psychological problems and abandonment issues that will take years of intense therapy (or Philemeon) to forget.

One of the biggest themes of Persona 2 is confronting your past and learning from the mistakes of your childhood. And the characters do! And by the end of the game you are so proud of how far they have come. And then things happen...

LGBTQ representation

Let me say that I started P2IS off on the wrong foot, but I am still absolutely justified at being upset by it. One of the very first interactions you can have with a NPC is through a very uncomfortable exchange between you, Eikichi and a transman that is pretty transphobic. And to add the icing on the cake, Atlus refers to him as a “weird woman.” 

I was literally going to just stop playing the game like an hour in because of that, but I decided to continue.

What I discovered was a game that has highs and lows when it comes to LGBTQ representation. 

You can play as a bi character who can confess his feelings to men and women. *Stares hard at Persona 4 and Persona 5*

You have a gay character that has an interesting story, character development, is unabashedly gay and isn’t a walking stereotype. Nor is his entire arc centered around gay panic. 

From what I understand the dialogue from the NPC does get better, but I am not holding my breath. 

And the one sapphic kiss scene we get in a Persona game is a kiss of manipulation and not love. So that is a little sad. 

But overall, P2IS does try to make an effort. And it definitely makes a better effort than its successor released almost 2 decades later.

Extra content:

Again, Persona 2 doesn’t have social links or a calendar. Please don’t approach it like the other games where you have to fill up your time between dungeons. It is not a necessity, but there are things you can do. 

Mu is a casino that you can visit that allows you to play mini games to gain coins that you can use to get weapons, rare items, and even unlock personas. I spent a little too much time at Mu....

You can also talk to NPCs to do side missions. Be careful though. You have to do the side missions in a given amount of time or you may not get rewarded for it. Also P2IS is very much like Final Fantasy 9 where it is much better to go to a place sooner than later, because there may not be a later...

You also have the factory which is an optional dungeon that opens up more and more as you progress through the game. 

There is the theater which is a PSP exclusive which has side missions unrelated to the main story that you can play. They are okay.

Wishlist

I hear so many people wanting a remake of P2IS so the game can be more accessible. I am very torn about this. Besides the difficulty and maaybe tweaking the encounter rate a bit, I wouldn’t change a thing. However, I also know that I couldn’t enjoy Shadow of Colossus until the controls were updated. Like I tried and then just gave up. 

I honestly don’t want a remake. I don’t trust the Atlus of today with this game.

I do want it to be acknowledged and more accessible though. 

But if I had to make a wish list, this is what it would be. Again, this would be a “it would be nice list.”

Make the battles harder.

Update cut scenes? I really like the art for the cut scenes already, but would like some more. Maybe keep the drawings but update the CG?

Social side quests. I do not want social links in Persona 2. However, side quests that allow you to learn more about your character like a social link would, would be something I would be very interested in. 

Make the portraits consistent. The art from the original game and the new art put in the PSP game (I am talking about you climax lady) clash so much. Pick one style and stick to it.

I want to fight Ms. Ideal. Let me do it for reasons. Give me a chance to battle her.

I want the option to switch out characters. I love both Jun and Yukki, but I want to be able to play with both. 

Let me skip the animation when I create a new Persona. 

*EDIT*  I can’t believe I forgot this and feel awful I did, but I do think they should keep the trans NPC, but change the dialogue and the the name. It isn’t the NPC that is the problem but the dialogue and actions. Otherwise, I think it would be ok. 

I think that’s it.

Recommendation:

So should you play Persona 2 IS? Short answer, yes. Long answer is that it is complicated. In a few months the game will no longer be accessible for psp consoles. The physical version of the game is ridiculously expensive. You will have to accept the fact this game is on psp and its sequel’s psp version never came to English speaking markets.

You may not like the graphics, gameplay, or that it doesn’t feel like the later persona games. And as much as I love this game, that is alright. You do you. But I truly do think you are missing out on a great game. So if you have the opportunity to do so, yeah absolutely give it a shot. 

[garaksapprentice]

Oh boy. I think you know not what you ask. I've been pickling my brain in textiles for years.

I will preface this by saying I don't think these are necessarily the best, or even the most accurate, resources out there - this is just what I've managed to get my hands on. As always, do your best to check sources, and side-eye anything that doesn't tell you where it got its information.

When I say "the historical devaluation of textile labour", I mean it in two different ways. The first is "for pretty much the entirety of human history up until the Industrial Revolution, materials were expensive and labour was cheap". That doesn't mean people couldn't make a living wage as a textile worker - in many places, times and jobs, you could live reasonably well. In quite a lot more, though, textile work was a subsistence practice that added to the household economy. When it wasn't being done by slaves, that is - a depressingly common practice from the Bronze Age all the way through to today.

The second is "fast fashion brands worked hard to rewrite the textile landscape and have completely broken the modern consumer's idea of what clothing 'should' cost". They did this by leveraging economies of scale to make the materials cheap, plus continuing the fine Victorian tradition of using near-slave labour in the factories.

Time and Money

Honestly, I encourage everyone to time their own work over at least one project. Money is not the only currency in the world, and I think it's important to recognise our contributions to our own happiness. There's just something about being able to say "It took me 12 hours to knit this pair of socks" (my current average on 2mm needles, with no patterning) that, for me, helps drive home the true worth of non-monetary activities.

I know that that's not easy or accessible for many, though, so here are some other tidbits.

Matsukaze Workshops is an SCA member recreating historical garments, who tells you the time and materials cost on just about every project. (Note that we modern humans are almost certainly slower than period humans would have been because we 1) have different attitudes about our clothes and the level of workmanship we expect, 2) don't spend anywhere near as much time doing it as our ancestors did, and 3) don't have the pressure of "if I don't finish this in time we will freeze to death" to motivate us.)

From Cornish Guernseys and Knit-Frocks by Mary Wright, we learn that contract knitters in the 1800s were fast - much faster than the average knitter today - and if you were good at it, you could earn more through knitting than by going out to service:

At the beginning of this century {the early 1900s}, women were paid 3s. 6d (17.5 pence) for a 'fancy' knit-frock; 2s. 6d (12.5 pence) or 2s. 9d. (14 pence) for a plain one. An eighty-year-old lady pointed out that only 2s. (10 pence) was paid if a fault were found in the knitting. The yarn was received in 2lb (900g) hanks (cost 4s. [20 pence]) and was wound by the knitters. An experienced contract knitter could complete a guernsey in about a week. Comparative wages in the late nineteenth century were 'Bal maidens at £10-£11 per year; a 'thoroughly competent and experienced woman servant at £8 per year', and 'domestic servants at 9d. (about 4 pence) a week'. (--pp21-22)

Unfortunately for a lot of poor families, that didn't last. Hazel Tindall, one of the fastest knitters in the world, talks about contract knitting in the Shetlands in the 1960s in this YouTube podcast. She doesn't give figures, but she does mention that she knit the yokes onto machine-knit bodies, usually finishing an adult jumper in about three hours. It didn't pay much, but many knitters were from poor households who didn't have much choice but to knit for what little they were given.

We also have a section from The Costume of Yorkshire (1814), excerpted from this V&A article:

A woman by the name of Slinger who lived in Cotterdale was accustomed regularly to walk to market at Hawes, a distance of three miles, with the weekly knitting of herself and her family packed in a bag upon her head, knitting all the way. She continued her knitting while she stayed in Hawes, purchasing the little necessities for her family, and worsted for the work of the ensuing week. She was so expeditious and expert that the produce of the day's labour was generally a complete pair of men's stockings.

I've seen a few places reference the charity schools of the Victorian era as well, stating that a child needed to be able to knit a stocking in a week before they were allowed to attend. I haven't been able to confirm or deny that via reputable sources, though. (I should probably ask on r/AskHistorians, one of the few genuinely good subreddits for history. It's heavily moderated by actual historians and all answers must be in-depth and properly cited.)

Reading/Viewing Recs

🎥 Fast Fashion is Hot Garbage: A decent 15 minute, high-level overview of all the ways fast fashion is terrible, ending with how we fix it (spoiler: it's policy change. It always comes back to pressuring politicians.) There's a good list of references in the video description too.

Overdressed by Elizabeth Cline: One of the first popular books that drew attention to the rising problems with the fast fashion industry. While it was written in 2011, it's still depressingly relevant today. Elizabeth has also written a book on ways to more mindfully/ethically engage with fashion, called The Conscious Closet.

A Short History of the World According to Sheep by Sally Coulthard: This is a pop-history grand tour, but its chapters on the English wool industry from medieval times through Industrialisation are a good summation of how textile workers were both the backbone of the economy and also just ... not treated particularly well in the aftermath of the Black Death in the 1300s. This quote about the woollen mills in Bradford post-Industrialisation is particularly telling:

In 1843, one health commissioner declared Bradford to be the ‘dirtiest, filthiest, worst regulated town in the kingdom’ while Georg Weerth, a radical German pamphleteer and good friend of Karl Marx, famously wrote in 1846, ‘Every other factory town in England is a paradise in comparison to this hole […] in Bradford, however, you think you have been lodged with the devil incarnate. If anyone wants to feel how a poor sinner is tormented in purgatory, let him travel to Bradford.’ Things were bad, even by the standards of the day – average life expectancy among textile workers was just eighteen years of age.

Keep in mind that when Marx was railing against the evils of capitalists, he was talking about places like Bradford. The factory owners routinely locked people inside for 16+ hour shifts, paid people to kidnap children to work the factories, and waged fierce propaganda campaigns along the lines of "we're giving the poor city kiddies fresh country air and gentle exercise while they earn a living, we're the good guys actually".

Women's Work: The First 20,000 Years by Elizabeth Wayland Barber: link is to the 30th anniversary edition coming out this year; I have the original, which you can also borrow/read online from the Internet Archive with a free account. This book covers a lot of ground, as you can imagine from the title. I think the biggest takeaway for me, though, is the fact that neolithic societies generally put way, way more effort into making their textiles fancy than they "should" have, by modern notions. Take Stone Age Europe, 5,000 years ago:

All over central Europe women were inventing more and more elaborate textiles, regardless of modern economists’ models. One of the key issues to understanding this “extravagance” is time. Not only were there infinitely fewer entertainments tugging at one’s attention in a preindustrial rural setting, but expenditure of time was viewed very differently from the way it is within an industrial economy. To us, time is money ... For them, money was irrelevant because it hadn’t been invented yet, nor would it be for another twenty-five hundred years. So there was nothing to weigh time against; it simply was what it was... Time was thus constantly available for use to promote survival, whether directly (e.g., by preparing food and building shelter) or indirectly—that is, by trying to elicit symbolically what was wanted.

This is something that many of us can relate to, when we're making things. Why else would sock knitters use fancy indie dyed yarns, or complex colourwork, or allover cables or lace patterns? We do it for us, because we know the value of the thing we've made for ourselves.

Our ancestors were no different. The Minoan women, for instance, had fantastically complex patterning on their attire -

What were the pretty patterns the Minoans liked so much to weave? The first favorite on exports to Egypt, to judge from copies painted there from around 2000 B.C. onward, consisted of blue heart-spirals set point to point (much like the design typical today on a wrought-iron fence) with a red diamond between each pair of double hearts, all on a white ground (fig. 4.4). It must have been stunning. At any rate, the women of Crete wove that design for at least another thousand years, for we catch glimpses of it here and there both in Egypt and in Crete, all the way down into the Iron Age long after the fall of the Minoans.

And just like today, you got both worse and more boring results when bosses told you what you had to make:

Working within a quota system of production is not like weaving for oneself. It is no longer fun, nor does the weaver get the benefit of extra effort put in. Mass production is not at all like making single pieces at will; there isn’t time to do a careful job. This economic principle is illustrated many times in history... The same effect is visible in Cretan textiles made for the central palaces, under Mycenaean rule, as they rapidly became plain with at most a fancy edging. Elsewhere on Crete, however, in remote areas that the Mycenaeans failed to subjugate, the Minoan women continued to make their elaborate fabrics all the way down into the Iron Age.

As I said above, r/AskHistorians is a surprisingly good resource for specific queries. The subreddit has a massive archive to search through. This ask about that "spinsters in the middle ages were empowered girlbosses actually" meme that was going around a while back is relevant here.

A Bunch of Stuff I Haven't Tracked Down Yet But I'm Told is Very Good

The Valkyries' Loom: the Archaeology of Cloth Production and Female Power in the North Atlantic. "While previous researchers have overlooked textiles as insignificant artifacts, Hayeur Smith is the first to use them to understand gender and economy in Norse societies of the North Atlantic. "

This Golden Thread: How Fabric Changed History. "Exploring the enduring association of textiles with 'women’s work,' Kassia St. Clair 'spins a rich social history . . . that also reflects the darker side of technology'".

Blood in the Machine: Juxtaposes the history of the Luddites and their fight against factory owners with the fight we're all currently in against Big Tech and AI. Cory Doctorow reviews it here. As he says: "To be a Luddite is to demand a say in the future. It's not enough to ask what a machine does - we have to ask who it does it for and who it does it to."

There is almost certainly more that I've forgotten or have lost links for, but hopefully these help!

Can someone please explain to me WHY no one can accept that I knit for pleasure?? Every time someone compliments me on my knitting they ask me if I've thought about selling it. NO GOD DAMMIIT NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO BE A SIDE HUSTLE

It would take all the pleasure out of it.

Bring back people doing things for fun. Jesus.

[elencelebrindal]

Time to ramble about Shun

Sooo... you said you wanted my rambling to become reality. Here I go. 

Shun not holding back for the whole series would have been a disaster for our dear villains, let me tell you.  But let’s go in order. And I mean, from training to Hades. Obviously, this completely disregards the fact that Shun was Hades the whole time, because if I am to take that into consideration everything would end before starting.  Small disclaimer, this is mostly anime-based. I’ve read the manga, but my memory is so bad in remembering what was just manga and what was just anime, and I have a better memory for the anime.  Also, this is going to praise Shun a lot. No, not because of my undying love for this character, but because logically speaking, he’s freaking powerful; this young man stood against a god that was possessing his body, dammit. 

Now, his training.  Of course, I won’t even imagine Shun actually going to Death Queen Island, mostly because it was Ikki, and not him, the reason why he went to Andromeda Island instead.  What we know, is that Shun nearly awakened his Seventh Sense there and then, when he donned the Cloth for the first time. And we know that he won the right to the trial after winning a fight against his “rival”.  But, before winning, he took a good beating, because he held back.  What would have happened, in the eventuality that Shun did not hold back? Well, probably just quicker access to the trial for the Cloth, but also... this might be the only time Shun not holding back would have affected him negatively.  What if he, by not holding back, lost his right to the Cloth? Andromeda is famous for her sacrifice, after all, not for her brave charging into battle.  This is mostly my own idea about it, because of course Shun was destined to become the Andromeda Saint, but luckily he held back, and only fought when he needed to. 

That aside, now it’s time to tackle all the positive things that could have happened had he not held back. 

Galaxian Wars / Black Saints Arc (forgive me, I forgot the actual name)

We had a taste of how smart and capable Shun is during his fight against Jabu, but all of that was thrown away thanks to Ikki’s appearance. Now, this doesn’t mean than Shun completely lost his competence, but he definitely held back for the sake of his brother.  This is obvious when we take into account the fight they all have against Ikki, when Shun tries to help his brother rather than stop him.  We already saw how dangerous Shun can be, when he faced Black Andromeda, so it’s easy to understand how much easier it could have been for the Bronze to stop Ikki if Shun was there to actively help against him.  Sure, he helped in the end, but he was probably the only one (at least at that point, because remember, he was the only one to have almost awakened the Seventh Sense) capable to stand his ground against Ikki.  Seiya’s success was more plot than skills, honestly speaking.  Shun could have been infinitely helpful, at least in making sure they earned a faster victory with less blood spilled.  To me, what we know about Shun’s power (though it’s only revealed later) makes it that he has a huge advantage that is ignored because of 1. Shun’s personality and 2. what’s needed for the plot and what was known of the plot. You all know he’s my favorite Bronze, at this point, but following a logical reasoning I cannot find something against this. 

On a side note, can you imagine how fast he would have destroyed Black Swan, if only he used his brain and not his heart?  Considering the outcome of his fight against Black Andromeda, and his knowledge about Hyoga’s techniques (which are kinda imitated by Black Swan), it’s not difficult to imagine he would have won.  He wouldn’t have done as good against all of them together, at this point of the story, but a one vs one fight would have definitely seem him victorious. 

Silver Saints Arc

I have no clear memory if that Docrates mess is in this arc or the one before it (the Italian division is a bit different and it confuses the hell out of me when I have to switch), but let’s put him here.  Because come on.  Shun getting thrown around like a doll? Yeah, no. Docrates might be a powerful - and not so brilliant or likable - warrior, but to the point of overwhelming a Saint like Shun with so much ease? I hardly believe it. I can  believe Shun having a hard time against him, especially considering how they won that fight.  Full power, I think Shun could have helped way more. I’m not saying he could have defeated a beat like Docrates all by himself, not at that point. Hyoga’s help was crucial for him to actually deal an effective blow.  But I’m pretty convinced they could have had a bit of a better time - especially Saori - because power makes the difference, even if it’s not enough to turn the tide without aid. 

Continuing with the same arc, we have another example of Shun being extremely competent and showing how strong he is when he doesn’t hold back.  How long did it take him to completely obliterate a Silver Saint? Not even enough to appreciate how badass he was.  It didn’t seem forced at all, more importantly! Most times, especially with Seiya, their victories seem so... well, convenient that it’s hard to believe they’re actually strong enough to beat their enemies. The plot armor around them is stronger than their actual armor, from time to time. This fight against Dante, instead, felt completely genuine. Shun and Ikki beating so easily two Silver Saints seemed incredibly normal and realistic, rather than feeling forced by the plot.  Of course, all the other characters have their genuine moments (yes, even Seiya), but I wanted to point this out for Shun in this particular instance because it’s necessary to understand how underrated he is. 

Sanctuary Arc

Moving on, we have what I like to call “Shun could have choked Saga to death and ended the entire Sanctuary Arc in less than five episodes”. Listen, does it seem so unreasonable? If it does, remember how Shun (with Ikki’s help, this is not something I’m ignoring, I like Shun but I don’t play dirty here) used his chain to break free of the Other Dimension (a place that’s supposedly impossible to leave? Hello????) and literally reached Saga where he was sitting.  What the hell, are we just ignoring the fact that he legitimately broke into the throne room of the most protected place of the entire Sanctuary, stole Saga’s cheap-looking trinkets, and shattered his control over him? For god’s sake, I’m SURE he could have at least managed to try and kill Saga where he was.  I’m aware he had no idea what the hell was going on, but had he used a bit more of his cosmo? A bit more of his concentration and intelligence? To me, it seems really weird that he only properly awakened his Seventh Sense so late in the arc. If Seiya was able to screw the plot over and get his precious Seventh Sense so early and easily, why wasn’t Shun given the same opportunity? Well, I know why, plot and everything, Shun’s actual power was still very much a mystery, but I’m going chronologically, and by logic. And what logic tells me is: Shun should have awakened his goddamn Seventh Sense there, realized he was stealing costume jewelry from the Pope, and at least knocked him out for the next couple hours.  For as much as i like joking about it, I know Saga is smarter and stronger than the average guy, Shun wasn’t going to be able to strangle him with the chain. But a good old pointy cosmo-powered chain to the forehead, well... come on. Would have been hilarious, other than useful. 

For the rest, the arc was pretty amazing.  His sacrifice for Hyoga? Yeah, he wasn’t holding back there.  And the fight against Aphrodite we all know how incredible it was.

Something I’m going to point out is how much Shun held back against Leda and Spica. That was all his personality, but he was able to defeat both of them in a couple seconds as soon as he used his true power.  I don’t really want to count that as holding back, but I have to. Because he was keeping his strength low, and it counts.  That was a time loss that could have been avoided. 

Asgard Arc

Now this, this makes me mad.  As soon as Shun leaves canon territory, it gets turned into this weak warrior with no desire to fight.  Either that, or he gets to fight but accomplishes little.  And this is exactly what happened in this arc. 

By now, we know how lethal Shun can be, and we know he awakened his Seventh Sense. It’s not theory anymore, it’s not fan wishes anymore, it’s Shun with one more sense to deal with.  And what happens? They give him the fight against the only enemy his goddamn chain doesn’t want to hit. Of course he gets that, and that his - actually beautiful - personality refuses to fight and instead insists on diplomacy.  Now, I loved that. I love how Shun tries to find a peaceful way around the war. But, once again, this is not the point of my rambling.  The point of my rambling is: Shun shouldn’t have needed Ikki to come and save the day.  Let’s take away Mime’s tragic backstory for a second, and let’s put Shun in the “classic” mind of a Saint; fight the enemy to the death, or die trying.  Shun would have won without any help. Sure, Mime is powerful, but Shun is as well. And we know that Shun is capable of facing enemies that use music as a weapon (as we learn later, in the Poseidon Arc).  Also, I’m pretty positive he has control over his chain, is not like the chain is going to ignore him like that. That weapon has a mind of its own, that’s true, but seriously speaking Shun has to be able to control it more than the chain controls itself.  That, and Shun himself refused to recognize Mime as an enemy.  Without holding back, Shun would have seen him as a proper enemy, and fought with no chain deciding “oh no no no, this is a friend!” like an overly friendly puppy.  Wrongfully, maybe, because as we learned Mime was, in fact, not a real enemy, but that’s not the point. 

Syd doesn’t really count. Shun was actually standing his ground against him, and incredibly well.  The reason Shun didn’t win right there and there was not him holding back, but the plot advancing and throwing Bud at him.  I don’t know how high I should hold this opinion, though, because to me it seems a bit weird that Bud is so powerful/stealthy that no one realizes he’s there. I’ve been skeptical about him, especially considering how he incapacitated freaking Aldebaran, but it is still a good reason for Shun not having won the fight.  Stealth can be more effective than raw power, sometimes.  Though, I believe Shun (and Aldebaran, for what it counts) should have been able to sense him. What, they’re going to show us the Saints can sense any kind of cosmo approaching them or far from them, but not realize that there’s someone right behind them ready to strike? Eh, it’s bizarre. 

Poseidon Arc

Right off the bat, he got his moment to shine against Io.  THAT, my friends, was incredible, and if Shun didn’t hold back - because he did, to avoid killing him, bless his merciful soul - Io would have died pretty easily.  Shun claimed his rights as Gold Saint, there, didn’t use all his power, and still beat the everloving soul out of him. 

Also, the fight against Sorrento? Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.  I literally have nothing to say, he had a reason to hold back there, and I will not give him a forced victory. Sorrento was on his level, and even though I think the Nebula Storm would have killed him (remember, that technique keeps getting more and more powerful the longer it’s used), they were pretty equal.  Shun didn’t hold back, save for when he understood what the hell was going on and got an ally. 

What I didn’t like, however, was how harshly he was treated when Poseidon was the threat. Damn, I’m not saying he should have been able to face a god, not without a Gold Cloth and not alone, but jeez, he ended up being completely ignored.  Like “wait, I’ll help!”, and then poof. Disappeared.  But in this instance, not holding back wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Unless you want to be 100% full of logic, and use the fact that Shun was already a vessel for a god, there’s no viable excuses for him to be able to fight a god on his own.  Not at that point in time, and not in his conditions.  Things work only if they can work. 

Hades Chapter

I don’t have much to say here.  Shun was incredible, he fought without holding back for almost the entire series, and showed an almost merciless side. A good handful of that behavior was Hades, if we go by how Shun was portrayed beforehand, but I like to believe he finally got his time to shine and acted competent again.  After hall, he had his angry moments back in the classic, they were no different from this chapter. 

What I will say, however, is how they diminished him in Elysium.  Because let’s face it: a Saint that not only survived one of the most powerful gods ever possessing him, but also tricked and held him back, had every single right to be powerful enough while wearing a God Cloth to obliterate Hypnos from the face of Elysium.  How are you telling me to believe that the same person that defeated the god of the Underworld just... fell asleep against a minor deity? He was the first to get his God Cloth without the plot aiding him (yes, I’m still salty about Seiya), yet he did nothing, and got defeated by Hypnos like he was a weak little boy.  I understand he’s a god, but Hades was worse! I’ll tell you what would have happened. Shun would have sent Hypnos’ sorry ass back in the void he deserved to be in (I actually like Hypnos okay, Shun doesn’t) without batting an eye.  Surely someone that was able to withstand Hades’ power - and overwhelmed it, even if for a short time - could resist some minor god’s power. 

To conclude, on the same not, Shun should have definitely punched Hades in the face.  He was probably the only one strong enough to do so, aside from Athena. And probably the one with the right to do so, also. 

This is probablt the stupidest rambling I’ve ever wrote on this blog, but I regret nothing. 

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.14

God’s Will and Fate’s Jokes

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 2900

Summary: Steve is not the only man out of time to be found in New York, Manhattan. And he sure as hell isn’t the only one struggling with what he’s done and lost.

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and death, swearing, a bit of a talk about religion

A/N: Ah, you want to know how the reunion will turn out? Understandable… So I’m gonna insert a Bucky chapter, with fragments of how he had been. I promise two little cameos from a Netflix TV series in exchange though, so hopefully I can be forgiven.

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The wind was gradually getting chillier with New York City further diving into autumn. Bucky readjusted his leather jacket to shield himself from it, but it was just a force of a habit. He had been frozen – several times, as he remembered now – and cold didn’t bother him for a while now. This was barely ‘cold’. His boots shuffled on the pavement with each step, a noise that seemed to drown in the busy streets.

The evening was slowly drifting into a night time, but in Manhattan, the streets never really fell into silence, always pulsing with life, sometimes calmer, mostly rapid though.

Bucky shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighed, stopping in front of the rather tall building – then again, this was New York, tall meant something different here – , his destination.

His mind was preoccupied, for the millionth time lost in the past; for a change, not in his own.

The fact he had been unfrozen during the decades gave him an advantage of being able to keep up with modern times; and there was nothing that couldn’t be found on the Internet, especially when one knew where and how to look, maybe even peak where others couldn’t for the lack of access or ability.

Then again, Captain America’s life story wasn’t exactly a heavily guarded secret and Bucky couldn’t decide whether he couldn’t believe his eyes while reading, or whether he actually wasn’t surprised at all when learning what his former best friend had been up to after he (and the rest of the world, for that matter) thought Bucky was gone.

He had dived a plane which was about to level New York and other great cities of America to the ground. Everyone thought he died, but instead, he was trapped in ice; Bucky prayed Steve had been unconscious the whole time, not feeling the biting cold. Then, the proclaimed war hero was found and been woken up seventy years to the future, throwing himself into a fight as soon as it was needed.

And wasn’t it damn necessary – aliens attacked the Earth. Bucky now remembered seeing a lot of weird inexplicable shit. But still, this? What the hell.

The thing was, despite that, Steve’s life wasn’t all bad. He became a part of a band of superheroes and… the punk finally found his soulmate, the one he could never find before, because she hadn’t been born yet, which was insane enough on its own. However, he seemed happy.

Naturally, it had to nosedive after that; the woman of his heart and soul was dead.

Some nuthead – and to Bucky’s rage, a nuthead Bucky knew, he had been part of Hydra, which he now hoped didn’t exist anymore, because he read about Pierce being locked up along with others – had murdered her in the worst possible way right in front of Steve.

If Bucky ever considered becoming a murder machine again, after everything he knew he had done, it was upon that revelation. He wanted that man’s head. He wanted to tear him limb from limb. He was a villain, sure, that need was natural, but he had hurt Steve on top of that. No one hurt Steve and got away with it.

Apparently, the man didn’t, because he was blown up along with everyone in the building minus Steve.

Still. If Bucky ever questioned whether he still had a heart, he was sure upon that realization; he did have one and it bled for his best friend.

He wished he could be there for him, but he wasn’t ready. He didn’t know if he could even show up after everything his hands had done, no matter who forced them. He didn’t know if he could mug up Steve’s life even worse.

It was weeks now since he had been freed and his feet led him to a church – the one church where people said goodbye to Steve’s soulmate. Bucky had read about it too, her funeral; a small service for her friends and family, but many others wished to express their condolences, say thank you to the poor soul who lost her life to theirs and their loved ones and they chose this church to do so.

Bucky had figured he could pay his respects as well.

What he didn’t count on was the roller-coaster of emotions hitting him when seeing her picture, her smile radiant and brighter than the candles illuminating her photograph.

She was pretty, there was no denial. The photo printed was from Avengers’ archives, he read as much – Bucky had no doubt that it was Steve who put that bright smile, lighting up her eyes, on her face. He believed Steve had found true happiness with her and it wasn’t just because she was his soulmate or because Bucky watched the video evidence as she faced her death and showed great bravery and kindness or because he saw Steve’s desperation in the very same footage.

Bucky simply knew; the woman seemed to truly love Steve and that was all Steve ever needed. A woman to love him unconditionally.

Life was cruel and fucked-up to take that away from him.

No, Bucky didn’t count on the rage and heartbreak chasing tears into his eyes. Neither did he expect someone to pull him out of his musing.

“Did you know her, son?” an amiable male voice caused him to wince and mentally yell at himself for a dumb lack of awareness of his surroundings. Had it been a Hydra agent, Bucky would have been dead.

He forced himself to calm his sprinting heart, the rush of adrenaline unnecessary when the only person disturbing him was an old priest with nearly bald head and a soft soothing tone of voice.

His breath shuddered.

“No, Father. I didn’t.” I knew her soulmate, Bucky could have added, but he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself; everyone knew who her soulmate was and it would lead to uncomfortable questions. Instead, Bucky’s mind supplied him with an easy lie. “But she had her life ahead of her, all of it. She must have been happy with her soulmate if he made her smile like this.”

The shorter man nodded, removing a candle that burned out from the altar with her picture – Bucky hadn’t noticed before with many others still warming up the space with their tiny flickering flames.

“Indeed. And she surely made him equally happy,” the priest hummed, sorrow darkening his face. His eyes carried a hint of curiosity, watching Bucky inconspicuously. ”It’s a shame for such joy to be stolen by madmen. Her soulmate… I pray for him as much as I do for her soul. Broken heart heals much longer than broken bones.”

No shit. Especially when it comes to supersoldiers with enhanced healing.

“Not wrong there,” Bucky whispered, hesitantly reaching out to the small metal basket with candles and a thin piece of wood to borrow the flame from another.

Bucky didn’t believe in God for almost seventy years now. Still, when the wick caught fire, he sent a silent prayer for both Steve and his gal.

“Still, you seem troubled by more than that,” the priest whispered and made a kind offer. “You could confide me in. It is what I am here for. Perhaps it would ease your sorrow.”

I don’t think so. Neither will it ease the craving after tearing a dead man’s head off.

“I don’t think you could help, Father, no offence. I’ve never been a good Catholic and lately even less so. And you sure don’t want to hear what troubles me.”

Despite a gentle nod of understanding, he nudged Bucky once more. At the very same moment, the soldier could hear the heavy door of the church open a crack and a man walk in with a periodic taping of a thin stick.

“I only wish to help you. If something of what you possibly have done heavies you… I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. I’m not allowed.”

“I believe you, Father. But I’m not sure your own conscience would allow you to keep quiet in my case,” Bucky admitted honestly, shifting under the presence of another man despite the fact he wouldn’t be able to hear them. A periodic tapping the man carried with him was getting to Bucky’s nerve already.

He should leave. Another lost soul seeking the help of a church was a good excuse anyway.

“Trust me, son. Whatever your sins are, I’m certain I have heard worse.”

“No, Father. You haven’t,” Bucky muttered under his breath, aware of the stranger getting closer.

He turned to him, surprised to find a man of such built, carrying a walking stick for blind. His stance and body was one of a fighter, even when cladded in a cheap suit, red-tinted glasses preventing his real thoughts from displaying on his face. He appeared blind but not quite. To Bucky, he was giving an impression of pretence, at least partial.

He could only wonder why; however, he could do so on his way out.

“I’m pretty sure he did,” the newcomer joined their barely audible conversation without permission and a scowl twisted the Father’s face.

The fact that the not-so-blind? man could hear what Bucky was saying had everything in Bucky scream fight or flight.

“Matthew. What brings you here at this hour?”

The suited man shrugged light-heartedly; Bucky didn’t believe him for a second. “I thought I’d stop by. See how you’re doing.”

“Always with the jokes, Matthew. It’s not decent.”

It wasn’t. Except if Bucky was more comfortable at the moment, he would have snorted in amusement. This man was clearly comfortable in his own skin, but the skin was a charade too. Bucky didn’t want to stay to crack the mystery though.

“Forgive me, Father, then.”

“Did you come to confess?” the Father continued and Bucky recognized this was as good opportunity to leave as any, making space for the blind man to approach the priest more easily.

A brief smile passed over the Matthew’s lips. “No. Like I said, only wanted to make sure you were alright.”

The backing out of the soldier was less inconspicuous this time, caught by the priest.

“You don’t need to leave, son. Matthew is a dear friend.” And there’s more to him than it seems, Bucky was certain.

Were his the sins Father had mentioned? This man’s? Bucky wouldn’t be surprised considering the dangerous vibe he was radiating.

“I’m Matt,” the man offered swiftly and held out his hand for Bucky to shake.

Bucky was stupid enough to accept it and really, wasn’t he out of his game to make such an idiotic mistake. “…James.”

“Rather hot for gloves, isn’t it?”

Bucky fought the urge to punch this man for pointing it out and took a deep breath.

“My past injuries can… make people uncomfortable when seen.”

“I won’t see them,” the blind man challenged with the light tone to his voice again, his head tilting to side and Bucky could see the corners of his mouth twitch. It gave him the impression of the man wanting sent him a wolfish grin.

And that was the time to get the fuck out. What was Bucky thinking anyway, showing up in here?

“Matthew… perhaps it would be for the best if we leave James to his prayers and have a talk over a latté, if you’re interested at this hour?” the priest offered in a conciliatory manner, beckoning to the back for Bucky’s benefit – or for Matthew’s too?

How deeply ran the lie, the pretending? Bucky didn’t want to hang around to find out.

“Yes…” Matt hesitated, but nodded. “Perhaps. James.”

“Matt. Father.”

Bucky strode between the two lines of the pews, kind words reaching his sensitive ears.

“My invitation still stands, if you ever feel like talking. If you’re not comfortable confessing the traditional way… there’s always coffee. Same rules apply for me.”

Bucky nodded, definitely not planning on taking him upon the offer. “I appreciate the offer, Father. Goodnight.”

Since fate was a cranky bitch, a night full of horrors of the past had him wandering the streets before the sun even began to rise to the horizon.

The Father didn’t seem overly surprised that Bucky showed up again, at such ungodly hour no less.

“James. Latté?” he asked, unfazed almost.

Bucky wanted to question his decision. But he was an old man, older than the priest himself and he could believe his secret would be kept.

He nodded.

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Opening to someone about the horrors he had lived through and had been a source of was surreal. No, scratch that, it was fucking weird and telling that to a priest was twisted and seriously messed up.

Yet, once Bucky started, he couldn’t stop the verbal vomit, his hands in his hair, tears welling up in his eyes and the hoarseness of his voice that seemed to be impossible to disguise.

And the whole time he talked, the man sitting opposite to him – not touching his latté either – listened intently with compassionate and understanding eyes full of sorrow and offering kind words and his own insights of a person watching the event from a reasonable distance, far enough not to get tangled in the emotional turmoil.

It caused Bucky’s breathing to turn so difficult that he thought he might actually suffocate, but he didn’t. He might be close to choking on his own spit though at priest’s forgiving words several times, words of redemption, a chance on it only proven by a mysterious man building miracles by a flick of a hand.

“You were a victim, James. Just like anybody else,” the Father explained his point of view slowly and with patience battling the one of saints themselves. “These are not your errors to carry with you like a burden. Forgive yourself. And allow your friend the same thing. I’m sure he could benefit from having someone by his side in a time difficult like this.”

Bucky gulped, looking away as he felt awkward burn in his eyes again, a lump in his throat never disappearing.

“I can’t. At least not yet, I’m-“

The sudden change of atmosphere was palpable, the safe environment carefully created by the priest vanishing at instant as Bucky’s instinct screamed about someone else’s presence in the church – someone else’s besides the God’s servants. His senses tingled, hairs rising at the back of his neck.

“Someone’s coming.”

Father Lantom seemed once again rather unfazed, his gaze shifting to his watch.

“Well, it is after six a.m., James.”

“Father-“ the soldier warned him breathlessly, otherwise rising to his feet soundlessly, sneaking to the door, opening them for a crack to glance at the newcomer that made his heart beat out of his chest.

One peek and he swiftly pressed his back to the wall, his head hitting it with a soft thud, eyes falling shut. Even with eyes closed, he could still feel the priest’s worried gaze.

“James?”

Bucky took a deep breath, arguing with his frantic mind and heart to calm the fuck down.

It was alright. He just needed to get the Father to cause diversion and he would sneak out, making no sound. He excelled at disappearing.    

“Go greet him, Father. Don’t tell him a word about having me here. Please.”

The desperate plea was enough to light up a flare of recognition in the priest’s eyes, no matter how hard it made him frown.

He sighed, sounding resigned.

“I cannot do that choice for you, James, even if I wished. I promise to keep quiet.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, beckoning to the other man to move.

The soldier stayed aligned with the wall, waiting for the right moment. It was killing him, freaking him out and yet luring him in, a mess of emotions, memories and possible scenarios of reunion playing out in his head, ranging from a fistfight to a hug even.

He needed to snap out of it.

He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Steven. What a nice surprise,” the priest greeted softly and Bucky barely contained the whine drawn to his lips. His hands curled up into fists and he bounced off of the wall, quickly assessing the most secure escape route. ”Do you require my assistance?”

“Not today, Father Lantom, but thank you.”

It was like a slap to Bucky’s face, a punch to his gut, hearing Steve’s voice; the melancholy in it and the burden he was never supposed to carry only making it worse.

For a second, Bucky wavered, faltering in his steps. His friend – former friend, still, his best friend – was right behind that door, needing someone and hurting and what was Bucky doing? Running away, like a coward?

“Are you alright?” the punk continued, expression concern for the not-exactly-older man and that was it. He caught a scent of something fishy right away.

Bucky’s mind yelled at him to get the hell out. His gaze returned to the door leading to a chamber and bathroom, hoping to find a small window. He crossed the distance in long quick steps.

“Yes, Steven, thank you. I simply have another troubled soul in the back room...”

Bucky slipped through the other door, finding what he wished for – an escape route. As he opened the window, taking care not to make the tiniest sound, Steve’s voice was slowly fading away.

“Don’t let me disturb you then, Father.”

By the time Father Lantom returned to the chamber, James Buchannan Barnes was gone. The priest only sighed in resignation; he more than half-expected it would come to that. He only hoped that the troubled soldier would find his way back eventually.

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Part 15

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So… am I? Forgiven? Please? I prooooomise the Steve/reader reunion will take place in the next chapter and it might actually be worth the wait ;)

Thank you for reading!

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 5 [18+/NSFW]

<- Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 ->

Summary: After your not-boyfriend, Frederick Chilton, turns out to be not-dead, you hope you can elevate your status from fuckbuddies. Maybe be honest about how you feel? But honesty is haaard... especially when he is more closed-off than ever.

(This is probably my favorite chapter. It has actual smut. And ridiculous idiots, and fluuuuuuuff)

5,075 words

After Hannibal fled, leaving a bloodbath in his wake, Dr. Frederick Chilton returned to the land of the living and to administrating his psychiatric hospital as if he had simply been away on vacation.

Likewise, your relationship resumed where it had left off. You thought things would be different now—that you would be more honest with your feelings, and he might open up, too—but nothing changed, except for the things that changed in a direction you didn’t like.

“Oh, Doctor Chilton, I need help,” you purred, leaning seductively against the doorway of his office. He sat up rigidly in his leather chair and stammered a greeting with failed nonchalance.

Since his return, his voice shot up an octave whenever you walked in the room. He was like a shy teenager with his first crush, and you could only assume he was re-learning how to exist in the world after trauma. What else would it be?

Slinking up to his desk, you unfastened the top buttons of your shirt. He swallowed, hungry, but not immediately pouncing upon you with a lewd promise growled in your ear and a firm grasp on your hip like he used to do. New reserves of insecurity crouched beneath his skin like lions hidden in tall grass. It broke your heart to see that timidity in his eyes, but it was all incentive for you to work harder to relax him.

“I’m afraid I don’t have insurance, doctor,” you pouted, pushing aside a stack of papers to sit on his desk. “And mental health care is prohibitively costly because of a broken for-profit system, leaving the most vulnerable populations without access…” you put an emphasis on vulnerable, biting your lip.

He quirked a brow. “Your sexy-talk needs work.” 

“Oh, doctor,” you moaned, sliding off the desk and straddling his lap to pull at his tie. “Until we get universal healthcare”—you brought the end of his orange tie up to your mouth and bit it, gazing coquettishly into his eyes—“surely there’shh some ofther way I can pay you…” you lisped, mouth stuffed full of tie. 

He never knew it was possible to laugh, be annoyed, and aroused at the same time, but you were always teaching him new things. 

“That would be a severe ethics violation,” he said sternly, brows lowered, but clearly teasing. You snorted. 

It was impossible to remain self-conscious around someone flirting so badly. His hesitation melted away as he turned your awkward role-play around on you, so you moved on to phase two. Sinking to your knees at the foot of his chair, half under his desk, you smoothed the fabric of his pants over his lap, rubbing his inner thighs to coax his legs open and position yourself between them.

He drew in a sharp breath, but disguised it as a gasp of offense. “This is highly inappropriate. I am going to have to ask you to leave my office. Future visits will be attended by a nurse to ensure proper conduct, or I can refer you to another psychiatrist,” he said in a dry monotone, fully committed to playing hard-to-get. You growled in annoyance at him in between bursts of laughter. He patted your head patronizingly. “Now, now, I am a magnanimous doctor. I am not angry with you as a patient for this behavioral outburst… just disappointed.”

You licked your lips. Challenge accepted. You ran your hands over the front of his dress pants until you found the outline of his cock, and stroked it through the fabric, arching your back while giving him your best please-fuck-me look. He swallowed.

Unzipping the fly, you reached into the warmth of his pants, searching through a bed of curled hairs until you found his cock and drew it out to admire. The skin was velvety and soft, pulsing with heat as you gave it a few slow strokes, watching it grow larger and more firm. You loved it at its full arousal, when it took its sculptural form and shape with veins running up the underside of the shaft, when the foreskin pulled back and the domed pink head stood out, ready to plunge itself into you. 

God, you loved his cock. 

“On the other hand,” he quickly changed his mind, “perhaps I require a demonstration of this ‘alternative payment.’ For the sake of due diligence.” 

Your brought your tongue to its head and gave a teasing lick, tasting the salt of his precum, then kissed it like you would kiss his lips. You pecked a series of kisses down the length of his shaft until you were buried in his neatly trimmed curls, lips brushing the wrinkled skin of his balls, then flattened your tongue against his cock and traced a torturously slow wet line from the base to the tip. 

“I confess... you are my most attractive patient,” he said in a shaky, staggering breath, one side of his lips quirking upward. His chest was rising and falling rapidly now. He wanted more. “That is very good.” Not content with you stopping to look up at him, his hand cradled the back of your head, pushing you down and urging you to continue. “But I will need more payment than that.”  

Taking his entire thick cock in your mouth, you slid down it until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged, eyes watering a little as you adjusted to having your throat stuffed full of him, jaw forced open wide. His manicured fingers curled into your hair, gently petting you. “Easy,” he soothed. 

It was nice sucking the dick of someone as fastidiously clean as Frederick Chilton. You always appreciated that as you began, moving slowly up his shaft until your lips were only closed around the swollen head, licking it gently, then faster until you felt his fingers tighten. He always tasted faintly of soap and very little else. His sedentary lifestyle helped as well; he was never running around and building up a nasty sweat. It was a pleasant little bonus to the whole affair. His cock was the most delicious you’d ever had.

Your head bobbed up and down in his lap with renewed vigor, building a rhythm with his hand gently guiding you to his preference (which you followed to please him, and deviated from to get a reaction). You loved watching his face—his breathing as he struggled to control it, the way his mouth twitched, and his eyes watched you work. That desperate little whine in his throat when you broke his rhythm, which grew into a low moan he tried to suppress when you started a new one.

He gave you instructions: slower, faster, use your tongue... just like that. Good. You twisted, and sucked, and pumped his base with your hands, gliding your tongue along the underside of his cock until the exquisite moment when he broke down, and stopped trying to keep his breathing (and noises) under control. By the end, he was a shaking mess mess, barely able to stammer out “k-keep going!” You loved to watch the moment he surrendered to you completely, his fingers digging into your scalp as his hips jerked helplessly, and his mouth falling open as he released into you, moaning and gasping so loudly the staff were sure to hear. 

You kept him buried in your mouth as his hot seed spilled on your tongue, swallowing every drop until his muscles stopped their convulsions, and you licked his cockhead clean. Cleaning up was a pain in the ass otherwise (and Frederick might implode if any got on his dress pants), but also, his largely vegetarian diet made him taste exceptionally sweet. You smiled up at him and ran your tongue over your lips as he panted, a sheen of sweat on his brow. 

As he was coming down, the phone on his desk rang, and naturally, the ambitious jerk answered it without so much as a thank you, or even putting his dick away. Orgasm complete: never mind you, back to work. Based on his half of the conversation, it sounded important—something about a publishing deal for a book he writing on Hannibal the Cannibal. The tone of his voice took on that haughty smarter-than-you air as the topic turned to intellectual property rights, and he was clearly driving for more money. So you started sucking his overstimulated dick. He gasped loudly into the receiver, and stared down at you in horror as he tried to cover for it. “I apologize. A bee got into my office, and I have to swat it.” He pushed you off his lap, eyes sparking like choppy waves on a windy sea.

“That was rude,” he growled when he got off the phone, a somewhat deranged smile slanting up one side of his face. He bent you over the desk and slapped your ass, whispering promises into your ear of how he would pay you back later.

You knew he would keep his promises. Each one. He had a lot more aggression to work out lately, and while you weren’t its target, a good hard fuck always made him feel better. You knew when you went to his house tonight you were guaranteed to have a lot of fun in a lot of positions—but you also knew when you were done, he would usher you out with some excuse for why you could’t stay.

That was the biggest, and worst, change. You thought the incident would bring you closer, but he hadn’t let you spend one night with him since the day he was shot.

It made you feel cheap.

Worse, it meant you were drifting apart. He used to be grateful (though he would never admit it) that you were there for the nightmares. When he woke up shaking he would turn to hold you, crushing you against his chest like a teddy until the shaking stopped, and he drifted back to sleep still holding you tight. You would have thought he would need you there more than ever, now. Something made him stop trusting you.

  *****

“Did I do something wrong?”

You were in the cramped passenger seat of his midlife-crisis Porsche cabriolet as he drove you home yet again, and a silence had fallen over him. It was a warm spring night with beautiful stars in the breeze above you glowing their brightest, albeit faded amid the glow of Baltimore’s city lights.

“Not at all. I am simply setting healthy boundaries, darling. I begin to suspect you only like me for the amenities.”

His house was new—he did not want to move back into the place he had found Abel Gideon dissected, and Hannibal had slaughtered and arranged two FBI agents for display—and even more grandiose than the last. All of the staircases were spiral for some unfathomable reason (because it was fancier), and it contained an entire gym, pool, gourmet kitchen, and a television the size of an actual movie theater screen. The bath had hot-tub jets.

Admittedly, it was nice staying there. It made you feel like someone who’d seen the inside of a country club. But his answer was complete bullshit.

“You know I don’t care about all your fancy crap,” you groaned.

“Do I? You told me you only stayed the night because my house was nice, and you enjoyed my coffee.”

Ouch. OK. Called out. “Obviously I was lying! I only like your stuff because it’s part of who you are—I can’t imagine you not being shamelessly bourgeoisie—not because I want a sugar daddy. If that’s what you’re worried about… why don’t we stay at my apartment?”

The thought never crossed his mind that you might call his bluff. He was horror-stricken.

“At your little… chalet?” he said like he was poking a dead bug with the end of a stick.

“It’s an apartment.”

Trapped by his own logic, instead of dropping you at your front door, Frederick got out and hobbled up the narrow staircase with you.

“My god, what is this? For ants?”

“It’s called a full bed, Frederick, and there’s plenty of room,” you answered with a little annoyance creeping into your voice. You knew he was prissy, but from the moment he set foot in your two-bedroom (which you could barely afford) he had been acting like he was in a decrepit slum. It was hilarious, actually, how living like a normal human being made him squirm.

He flopped down into the middle of the mattress, a sullen expression on his face like a toddler in a time-out. “You cannot expect me to sleep on this prison cot.”

“Move over,” you nudged him, crawling onto the covers beside him. “There’s plenty of room if we cuddle.”

He didn’t look interested in cuddling at the moment, however. He stared up at the ceiling like he was about to explode. You smiled. Even at his bitchiest and sulkiest, there was no one else you would rather spend time with. He tugged at your heartstrings. You admired his profile—his square brow that could express so much emotion (right now: petulance), the new scar on his cheek that was clearly the source of some embarrassment to him (though you thought it looked rugged), the stubble down his jaw with the slightest hint of grey. He was just so handsome.

Seeing his scar this close up was rare, as he always tried to keep you on his right side whenever you were seated or laying next to each other. You rested your chin on your arm and smiled at him, but he didn't smile back, or even glance over. He just stared at the ceiling like you weren’t even there. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively, hoping to get a laugh (or an irate glare that was secretly a laugh).

No response at all. He was moody.

You rolled on your side to cuddle him, intent on kissing that scar, but when your hands touched his chest, he flinched, recoiling with a surprised yelp.

That was the last straw. His nostrils flared and eyes widened as if this was the gravest indignity he had ever suffered. He jumped up from the bed frantically saying, “I have to go.”

And he did. Just like that.

You tried not to cry. He was being a jerk. He was going through post-traumatic stress. He just needed space, and it wasn’t your fault, you said, but you counted up all of the ways it was your fault anyway.

You were always so blunt and rude with him. As much as he deserved it when he was being officious, exploitative, surly, or generally the poster child for “check your privilege,” he probably didn’t want to be around someone who called him out all the time. It was a miracle he tolerated you at all. You’d gone easier on him since he returned from the dead, but maybe he simply didn’t want a rude fuckbuddy anymore.

You decided you wouldn’t bother him. He needed space, and you constantly showing up at his office and calling his house wasn’t helping, and it obviously wasn’t what he wanted.

Not three days went by before he called wondering where you had been. You could hear him trying to hide the worry in his voice, and the relief when you told him you were fine, and not angry. He wanted to see you. Not just the usual tryst, either: he wanted to take you out for dinner.

You had no idea what was going on.

  *****

Chilton was terrified when you stopped calling him. His greatest fear hit him deeper than a scalpel—that you were dead. Hannibal was back from wherever it was he went, and he was killing off everyone close to his enemies. Or any other of hundreds of killers. When it was clear that nothing horrible had happened to you, and you were, in fact, alive, he realized his second greatest fear—he had fucked up and finally driven you away.

A few of his exes used to give him the cold shoulder when he had committed some error, like failing to spoil them with gifts or expensive dinners, or pretending to forget their name. Maybe you, too, were punishing him, and he still had a chance to win you back. It seemed very likely that you wanted more from him than just sex. He had been selfish and unreciprocal with you—though outwardly, you never asked for anything else, except to stay the night. But he could never do that, not anymore.

Instead, pampering you at a Michelin-star restaurant seemed like a good start.

  *****

Dinner with Chilton that night made it clear why you had never gone out on a proper date with him before. His world was not your world.

As you walked in, you were fairly sure the maître d' glared at you for wearing what you considered your nicest outfit—but given that your typical dinner was boxed mac n’ cheese in your underwear, your best may not have been up to standard.

Frederick was at the bar waiting for you, severely out-dressing you in a formal black suit and dazzlingly contrasting tie, but didn’t make any underhanded comments on your attire. He crossed the room to meet you, flashing that used-car-salesman smile he hadn’t used on you since the first time you met, and offered his elbow in a revoltingly genteel fashion. It was like he was a stranger.

The the maître d’hôtel guided you to your reserved table, and Frederick set his cane to the side, sat, and crossed his legs. You felt like you were being interviewed. Was this an interview? From an inner pocket of his suit jacket, he produced and handed you a silver-inlaid pen that cost more than your rent.

“I don’t want this.” You left it sitting on the white tablecloth and stared at it like an alien artifact, trying to figure out what made it better than a two-dollar pen from the drugstore. Maybe he could still return it.

He got flustered, blinking in confusion, then held his chin up haughtily, jaw clenched. “No accounting for taste, then.”

You groaned. For some reason he wasn’t pretending to be wounded this time, he actually felt rejected. Over a stupid overpriced pen. “Fine! I’ll take it if it’ll make you feel better,” you caved in, snatching it off the table. “But if we break up, I’m pawning this.”

His mouth curled, primed to make a retort, but then went slack.

Was he thinking of breaking up?

Was that what dinner was about? That’s right—that trick of breaking up in a public space so you won’t cry and make a scene. It would explain why he’d been acting so nervous and distant lately. Why else would he suddenly want to take you out?

An awkward silence fell over the table. You wished this place had paper napkins you could stress-doodle on with your stupid new pen. Was it a breakup gift? Were breakup gifts a thing?

The waiter blessedly interrupted to take your orders, which Chilton gently assisted you with because everything was in French, the menu did not have pictures, and none of it appeared to be mac n’ cheese. He also ordered an entire bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild for the table, which you divined from the slight puffing out of his chest was meant to impress you.

When it didn’t, things went back to being sulky and awkward. By the time the bread arrived at the table, he had already downed a glass, and reached to pour himself another.

Instead of grabbing the open bottle, he completely misjudged the distance and knocked it on its side with a string of swears. Dark red liquid poured out onto the table. Acting quickly, you reached to pick it up, but collided with Chilton who was also trying to salvage the bottle, and succeeded only in batting it toward him where a puddle of wine began overflowing over the edge onto his suit.

Puddle! Spilling! You needed to mop up the excess quickly! You grabbed slices of baguette and started soaking it up.

“Why are you using bread when there are napkins for this?” Chilton hissed.

“I don’t know! You’re the dumbass who knocked over the Roth IRA Burgundy.”

His eyes bulged from his skull. “Rothschild! Bordeaux! And it wasn’t that bad until you flung it at me!”

“Do you want to help, or do you want to continue berating me?”

“I am more than capable of doing both!” he cried, grabbing a napkin and righting the bottle.

The table was a complete disaster. Wine even got all over your stupid fancy pen, which matched the stupid fancy pen in his office. Oh. That was sort of sweet, actually. As you wiped it dry, you noticed it had your name inscribed around one of the silver rings.

The waiter hurried over to assist, and Chilton looked positively mortified.

“Sorry,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I’m a little clumsy.”

After much fussing and cleaning was finished, Chilton sat back in his chair, eyes boring into you. He swallowed.

“Why did you...?”

“They already think I’m a mess, this way they’ll at least let you back in here.”

“Well, that is very…” a dark blush crept up his neck from under his collar. “You didn’t have to do that"

You reached your hand across the fresh tablecloth, and he took it, rubbing soft circles in the flesh between your thumb and forefinger. (It was a testament to your familiarity that the massive, ostentatious gold ring he always wore no longer felt in the way when you held his hand.) His eyes lingered on you, and the blush continued working its way up to his face.

Things felt open enough to quietly ask, “So, what is all this, anyway? You’ve never wanted to take me out before.”

“I assumed you wanted something from me; you have been ignoring me,” he bristled slightly at your density. “If this is not it, then what?”

You blinked. He really thought you’d been holding out on him to… get something? And the way his voice strained when he asked, “then what?” told you he would do whatever it was you requested.

You shook your head at the tablecloth and squeezed his hand. “The way you left the other day, I assumed you didn’t want to be around me.”

“Oh.” The brilliant psychiatrist hadn’t thought of that.

He didn’t apologize, and you knew he never would (about anything—it was one of the reasons so many people wanted to punch him), but his demeanor softened and any resentment you’d been holding onto faded with his dumbfounded expression.

“So.” You cleared your throat. “How’s… uh, psychiatry?”

“Well, most daily therapy sessions I have delegated to focus on writing…” He launched into a mundane description of his work, and you just… talked. Like a normal couple. It was strange in its ordinariness, but it was nice to not have your entire interaction revolve around getting dick. It made going back to his mansion after dinner and getting dick even more meaningful. You were sure this time he would let you stay.

When he tried to send you away again, you had had enough.

  *****

“I don’t understand, what changed?” you asked a little too brusquely and immediately regretted it. “I know you need space,” you breathed out in a more understanding tone, “but I need to know where we stand… Do you want to break up with me?”

He froze in the middle of throwing a shirt on over his bare chest and dropped it back into the dresser, turning to gawk at you with shocked-wide eyes. “What? No! Of course not.”

That was a relief at least. “Then why won’t you let me stay?”

He was far too exposed: his abdominal scar still prominently pointing up to his blaze of brown chest hair, and you, ambushing him in his own bedroom. “You cannot let it go, can you? You want to know?!” he snapped, limping resentfully across the room. He had reached a breaking point. “It’s because I cannot sleep with the prosthetics in.”

“The...” your brain crashed and you frantically clicked enter on the reboot screen, “...prosthetics…?”

He scowled. “Did you believe the bullet passed neatly through the copious empty space in my skull without causing any collateral damage? That this little scar is the sum total of my injury?”

Of course. You hadn’t even considered that there was more to his near-fatal shooting than what you saw on the surface. It was breathtakingly ignorant now that you thought about it. He was shot. In the head. He spent weeks at an expensive medical resort where they could perform all kinds of reconstructive miracles, and he let you believe he was dead until they had finished whatever it was they were fixing.

“Show me.”

His face twitched. “You do not want to know.”

“I do.”

“Then I do not wish you to know.”

“Why?”

Emotion boiled under his face, but he breathed in through his nose and kept his outward composition calm, controlled. “It would change the way you see me. Every time you look at me, I do not want you to see that.”

You crossed the room to him. Gently, you put your hand on his arm, and slowly rubbed up and down. His breathing was shallow, controlled but barely. He didn’t push you away. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, listening to his pulse whispering a swift beat. “I just want to know you, Frederick. Please.”

  *****

Doctors had seen it. That was by necessity: he had paid for the best cosmetic prosthetics available in the country to look exactly like his old self, with the exception of the scar on his left cheek which could never be fully hidden.

He had shown it to Mason Verger, but that, too, was different—a mutual display of their motivations for revenge. It was almost a contest to see who was the more disgusting, the most wronged.

You would not be the first to see his face, but you were the first whom he cared about disgusting. The first whom he cared about. He did not want to see you recoil from him in shock. He did not want to lose you. He did not want you to see the darkness hanging over him.

He acquiesced, but refused to make a circus display of taking his teeth out in front of you, and vanished into the master bathroom for a long time. As you waited, you rehearsed not reacting—not showing a hint of shock that would make him regret the choice to let you in—yet as each minute ticked by, you grew more and more anxious.

The door opened.

“Jesus fuck.”

His lower eyelid sagged without the support of a massive chunk of facial bone holding it in place, and the eye within was the milky blue-white of a fish preserved in formaldehyde. The skin of his cheek sagged over half a mouth of missing teeth, and the left corner of his lip hung slightly too loose.

“Eloquent as always,” he said, adding some bite to the word. He hoped you knew what a jerk you were.

You rushed in to hold him, and he stiffened, looking away. “Oh, your eye,” you whined. He must have been completely blind in it, but he masked it so well you never noticed. He flinched as you touched his face.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

You pulled your hand back and searched his expression. “Do you want me to stop?”

He thought about it, and huffed, rolling one eye. You were being so cute, and at least not fleeing in terror. He stuck his chin out. “Go ahead. Do what you want.”

With a sour frown, he let you explore his skin with your fingertips, finding scars and hollow cavities where bone was supposed to be. “You’re missing… oh, god, it must have shattered the maxillary bone, and,” you felt farther back, continuing to find hollow gaps. “Oh god, baby…”

“Do not pity me, it is unbecoming.”

“Heh,” you breathed, slyly sliding your hands up over his shoulders and arcing them loosely around the back of his neck. “I thought you didn’t care about my motivations,” you said, languidly drawing out each vowel.

That earned an irritated look, finally meeting your gaze. You grinned back.

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip.

You kissed him all along the sagging side of his mouth, pressing your lips to every new contour and texture. A few worried noises escaped his throat, along with half-formed words of caution of what you might not want to kiss, but they were quickly swallowed by groans of pleasure as you worshiped his mouth, reveling in each new discovery. All his imperfections were perfect, and you wanted him to feel that in every touch, filling each glowing breath with all the love and acceptance in your heart.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore, but it itches.”

“I hate itches.”

“As do I,” he breathed.

You kissed him again, this time his tongue danced along your lips to taste you. It darted between your teeth, curling around your tongue as his strong hands snaked around the back of your head, pulling you harder into the kiss. He grunted, teeth clashing with yours as your lips interlocked with feral passion, consuming each other until your lips were bruised and you had to break away, breathless and panting.

“I’m so glad you're alive,” you smiled, trying not to let tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “You came back to me. You’re amazing, you know that? What you can survive.”

His chest puffed out a little. He was amazing, wasn’t he? But when he spoke again, it was sullen.

“I did not want you to see what a monster I’ve become.”

You shook your head. “You’re still beautiful. Absolutely perfect. I’m sorry it happened, but you know I’m going to love you no matter what…” You trailed off as a word snagged in your throat. Did you just say…

“You love me?”

Dry. Your throat suddenly felt drier than sandpaper, and swallowing didn’t fix it. You weren’t supposed to admit that to him. He was going to tease you, to twist it around somehow to use against you—

“I love you, too.”

[differentnutpeace]

Once On The Brink Of Eradication, Syphilis is Raging Again

In certain circles of San Francisco, a case of syphilis can be as common and casual as catching the flu, to the point where Billy Lemon can't even remember how many times he's had it.  หวย บอล เกมส์ คาสิโนออนไลน์

"Three or four? Five times in my life?" he struggles to recall. "It does not seem like a big deal."

At the time, about a decade ago, Lemon went on frequent methamphetamine binges, kicking his libido into overdrive and silencing the voice in his head that said condoms would be a wise choice at a raging sex party.

"It lowers your inhibitions, and also your decision making abilities are skewed," says Lemon.

He's sober now and runs the Castro Country Club in San Francisco, which is not a resort, but a place where gay men come to get help with addiction, especially meth. Lemon says syphilis comes with the territory.

"In the 12-step community, if meth was your thing, everybody had syphilis," he says.

In 2000, syphilis rates were so low, public health officials believed eradication was on the horizon. But the rates started creeping up in 2001, grew steadily for the next two decades, then spiked 74% since 2015. There were nearly 130,000 cases nationwide in 2019, according to data released Tuesday by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

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In California and the US, about half of syphilis cases are in men who have sex with men. More than a third of women in the western United States who have syphilis also use meth, a drug that has seen its own surge in recent years.

These are just some of the trends causing overall national cases of sexually transmitted diseases to hit an all-time high for the last six years in a row, reaching 2.5 million. And the consequences are now trickling down to babies who are contracting syphilis from their mothers: these congenital syphilis rates nearly quadrupled between 2012 and 2019.

This was all before the coronavirus pandemic took hold in the US, and with contact tracers and testing supplies diverted from STDs to COVID, the CDC is predicting 2020 numbers will be no better.

"We are quite worried about this and have seen this trend over time," says Dr. Erica Pan, California's state epidemiologist. "Unfortunately, with years of not having enough funding and infrastructure in public health, and then in this past year, of course, both at the local and state level, a lot of personnel who had been focusing on STDs and syphilis follow-up have really been redirected to the pandemic."

Billy Lemon is executive director of the Castro Country Club in San Francisco, where gay men can get help with addiction. Lemon says that when it comes to methamphetamine use in particular, syphilis often comes with the territory.

Beth LaBerge/KQED

A number of factors are fueling the syphilis surge

There are many factors that contribute to the rise of STDs, and syphilis in particular.

In the gay community in San Francisco, for example, the rise of mobile dating apps like Grindr and Tinder made finding a date "faster than getting pizza delivered to your home," says Dan Wohlfeiler, an STD prevention specialist and co-founder of Building Healthy Online Communities, which uses these apps to improve gay men's health.

When the dating apps first came on the scene around 2009, they made it harder for disease investigators to track the spread of STDs and notify people who may have been infected, because men don't always know the names of the men they hook up with.

"They sometimes only know their online handle," says Dr. Ina Park, associate professor at UCSF School of Medicine and author of the book Strange Bedfellows, about the history of STDs. "And if the sex didn't go well, then sometimes they will block the person from their app and they don't even know how to reach that person again."

Online dating began back in the late 1990s, which was around the same time effective medications to prevent the transmission of HIV became available: first, antiretrovirals that suppress the virus in those who are HIV positive, and then later, in 2012, pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PreP, which prevents new infections in people who are HIV negative, but considered at-risk for exposure to the virus.

With the risk of contracting a deadly disease falling to almost zero, condoms fell even more out of favor than they already were, says Park.

"If one man is taking PreP and the other one is virally suppressed, there's no HIV risk at all," she says. "So why use condoms if you don't mind having a touch of syphilis?"

Diagnosing syphilis is tricky

While syphilis is not benign – it can cause blindness, deafness, or brain damage – it is easy to treat. Typically, a shot of penicillin in the butt will cure it.

But diagnosing syphilis can be tricky, says Park, who treats patients with STDs at the San Francisco City Clinic. She often finds herself crouched low in the exam room, "lifting up their scrotum and lifting up their penis," craning her head to get a look from all angles.

She does these gymnastics to find rashes associated with syphilis. Some are obvious, others subtle. She says doctors in regular family medicine clinics often aren't trained on where to look, or when.

"The patient came in saying, 'I'm tired,'" Park says, referring to a common symptom of syphilis. "How many people are going to say, 'Take off your pants and lift up your scrotum, I want to look? We only do that at the STD clinic because that's what we do."

But specialized public STD clinics, like the one where Park works, have been shutting down nationwide. One reason is persistent underfunding of public health programs, a trend laid bare during the coronavirus pandemic. Another reason is the Affordable Care Act. In a strange way, the 2010 law intended to expand access to health care actually contributed to the closure of STD clinics.

"Honestly, I think everyone thought they weren't going to be necessary," said Dr. Karen Smith in 2019, when she was the director of the California Department of Public Health. She says once Obamacare was in place, the thought was that STD testing would happen in primary care clinics.

"We sort of all assumed that if you've got health insurance and you've got access to a doctor, that's all that you need," she said. "It turns out that that's not really all that you need."

People still had affairs that they didn't want to talk about with their family doctor. And some family doctors didn't want to probe into their patients' sex lives. Young people, in particular, prefer clinics geared to them, out of their parents' purview.

"That loss of anonymous care really was a problem," Smith said.

The spread of syphilis is reaching newborns, too

When Christian Faulkenberry-Miranda decided to become a pediatrician, she never thought she'd become an expert in syphilis.

In 2010, shortly after finishing her medical training and starting work at the Community Regional Medical Center in Fresno, California, she began seeing babies with a rash on their tummies that looks like a blueberry muffin. At first she thought it was a common viral infection, until these babies tested positive for syphilis.

In those early days, Dr. Faulkenberry-Miranda saw perhaps a few instances of congenital syphilis each year. Now she sees two cases every week. It's important to start the 10-day antibiotic treatment right away, to avoid complications, but she still follows her patients through their first year of life, and often through their childhood, to watch for vision and hearing problems, developmental delays, attention deficits, and learning disabilities, all of which can result from congenital syphilis infections. In 2019, 128 of these congenital syphilis cases resulted in stillbirth or neonatal death.

"The disappointing thing is that syphilis is very treatable," she says. "This is something that's completely preventable, with proper screening and treatment of these moms during pregnancy."

Congenital syphilis cases hit a troubling milestone in 2019, increasing 279% over the previous five years, and hitting a high of cases in the U.S. That is more mother-to-child transmissions of syphilis than there were at the peak of mother-to-child cases of HIV in 1991.

"How could this be happening? Testing is cheap and widely available. The same treatment we've been using since the forties still works," says Dr. Park, who has also seen an increase in congenital syphilis cases in San Francisco. "And yet we have this completely out of control epidemic among the most vulnerable babies in our society."

Many of the women who give birth to babies with syphilis have had no prenatal care. They often use drugs – mainly methamphetamine – and they are often homeless, said Dr. Karen Smith, former director of CDPH. This makes them more likely to trade sex for housing, food, or drugs, prompting Smith to call congenital syphilis a "disease of despair." Drug use, in particular, makes women less likely to recognize that they're pregnant at all, and less likely to seek health care if they do.

"They're very concerned about what's going to happen when they're found to be pregnant and using drugs," said Dr. Smith. "They're concerned that their drug use will be reported and then CPS will be involved and their children will be taken away."

Romni Neiman is a veteran contact tracer with the CDC. Before she got redirected to COVID last year, she was working on STD prevention in California, including the problem of congenital syphilis. Neiman says when she tries to reach pregnant women who may have been exposed to syphilis, it's extremely challenging.

Neiman remembers looking for one woman in the late 80s in Chicago. She used drugs, was pregnant and had been exposed to syphilis. The woman's housing was so unstable, that Neiman went to three different places before finding her. The woman had no car, so Neiman offered to drive her to the clinic to get tested. The woman had no safe place to leave her toddler, because a man in the place she was staying was abusive, so Neiman took care of the child while the woman saw the doctor.

"She was just trying to do the best that she can, and she was really afraid," Neiman remembers. "Sometimes it's really taxing and really sad. And you come home at the end of the day and you're like, 'Wow. Wow.'"

Those challenges, combined with persistent underfunding for public health, is what led to the initial spike in congenital syphilis cases in Fresno County in the 2010s, says Park. Local contact tracers couldn't keep up, and the state had to step in with reinforcements. After leveling off for a couple years, congenital syphilis rates in Fresno spiked 900% in 2018.

The state is taking new measures to address the rates, says state epidemiologist Dr. Erica Pan, like requiring women to be screened for syphilis twice during pregnancy, instead of just once. And, rather than waiting for women to come in for prenatal care, the state is doing more outreach, and screening pregnant women in the emergency room, and in prisons and jails.

Dr. Pan believes the coronavirus pandemic has created an opportunity to invest in a more nimble response to emerging and re-emerging public health issues, like syphilis and congenital syphilis.

"It's been a really long, hard year responding to this pandemic, but people have really acknowledged and realized the impact of divesting in public health infrastructure," she said. "I hope that a lot of the resources that we hope to bring to bear in the longer term after this pandemic will benefit STDs as well."

[nerdy-bits]

Ghost of Tsushima and PlayStation Prestige Storytelling

There is an unspoken, yet constantly spoken, expectation that exists in the game industry that demands that games change over time. That they evolve. Yet, it is an expectation that is demanded hypocritically, or perhaps misguidedly. 

When I started writing about games I remember holding a firm stance that Call of Duty was actually garbage, because it was all just recycled gameplay with minimal facelift year-to-year. There is this unspoken standard in games, it seems, that demands a distinguishable improvement over time. Yet, it never seems to quantify its own qualifications. What does that improvement entail? Surely graphical and mechanical improvements, yes? Do those expectations also include things like gameplay evolution? Does Last of Us II need to feel different than its predecessor or is it possible to just build on the framework that its priors have already laid?

None of these questions seem to have answers. At least I have never seen anyone take the time to sit down and build a more specific set of guidelines with which one can view a game’s…”uniqueness”? See, I even struggle to find the right word for the concept as a whole. 

So let me start over, if not for you than for myself. 

When I sat behind my desk to start playing Ghost of Tsushima, I was immediately confronted by a feeling of familiarity. I knew how to play this game already. Combat was simple, light and heavy attack, parry, counter-attack. It all felt very Assassin’s Creed 2, or perhaps even Arkham Asylum. Truthfully, I haven’t played the game in close to three months, but the mechanics are so easy to pick up that I have no doubt it would be a breeze to return. 

Ghost of Tsushima, for the last AAA exclusive release on the PS4, is largely a summary of the genre for the last generation and a half. It’s both extremely appropriate and - in a sort of way - unavoidably disappointing. See, Sony has realized its version of what we call Prestige Television. Allow me the short diversion to explain myself. 

In 200, 2008, and 2010 AMC discovered that it could deliver a version of television that bordered on the production value of film, but also allowed its storytellers the ability to tell a story over ten or twelve hours. Mad Men, Breaking Bad, and The Walking Dead all established that television need not only be a procedural drama focused on serialized formulaity. They established that building a prolonged narrative arc could pay off, and draw record viewership in the process. Were they the first to do this? No, of course not. The Sopranos, The Wire, and before them the likes of Hill Street Blues, or Wiseguy. But see, the difference between the latter examples there and the former, is the accessibility. Hill Street Blues airing on NBC and Wiseguy on CBS. The Sopranos and The Wire continued the tradition of stellar television but on a far more exclusive stage. HBO wasn’t and still isn’t in most households. Then, at some point in the late 2000s, cable television stepped to the plate, and prestige television reemerged, and this time it propagated outward in every direction. Now nearly every network wants its own prestige show. 

But what does any of this have to do with the Ghost of Tsushima and PlayStation? I think that Sucker Punch is another studio swallowed up by this generation of Playstation Prestige Storytelling. If swallowed up sounds a bit negative, that is on purpose. Last of Us started something, and after seven years of AAA exclusives focused on telling mature stories, Tsushima feels like the perfect bookend to this generation. A generation of exclusives full of prestige storytelling but not particularly full of unique or revolutionary gameplay experiences.

Look at both Last of Us titles, God of War, Uncharted, and Horizon Zero Dawn. It’s hard to find better single player experiences over the last 8 years. Each game is well written, expertly acted, and smartly directed. I deeply enjoyed each one. But over time it was hard to not realize one similarity: PlayStation exclusives don’t really push any boundaries outside of delivering highly manicured story and stunning visuals. 

The toughest part about writing this is making clear that my opinion, despite sounding critical, isn’t. I own my PS4 for these titles. I lap them up hungrily. I feel I’ve just recognized what they are for me. Beyond a way to stay relevant, they act as a window into some of the best writing in the industry. 

Ghost of Tsushima is a beautiful game complimented by an equally beautiful story. That story resides in the most refined version of recycled gameplay mechanics I have ever seen. And what’s more? It absolutely works. Tsushima is the summation of open world games for the last decade. It does very little new, but everything it does, it does markedly better than its predecessors. Arguably its most unique feature is its navigational breeze. Removing the non-diegetic quest marker and dotted-line trail for a more diegetic system that draws the breeze to guide you. The flourish of foliage is stunning almost always, and by hour three I had forgotten that it was a mechanic completely, and felt it more as a system of the world’s design. 

But the combat is Arkham, the exploration is Assassin’s Creed, and the stealth is Assassin’s Creed and Splinter Cell. But the cutscenes. The attention to detail in exposition and composition is deliberate and masterful. In the opening moments Jin finds his family katana in a dark room. After a flashback, showing you his first moments learning under Lord Shimura, he unsheaths the blade over his head. The high moon shining through the torn walls casting a brilliant silver glare on across the folded steel. He positions the blade in a Jodan Kasumi stance, flaring the light of the moon across his face. This extremely good shit is painted across every scene in this game. 

As much as I found myself quietly laughing at the novelty of a game made of a generation of parts, it wasn’t long before I absolutely didn’t care anymore. 

That’s the trick. The conceit. Prestige television ostensibly didn’t change what film had been doing for decades. Rather it took that formula and drew it out, carried it over to a different medium, and used viewers’ desire for a good story to leverage their attention. God of War takes the Dark Souls formula for combat and boils it down, hones, and tunes it to its purposes. Uncharted is Tomb Raider with a heaping spoonful of Indiana Jones. Last of Us is almost literally apocalyptic Uncharted. Bloodborne is, well, Lovecraftian Dark Souls. You see the point. PlayStation’s story based exclusives, have built upon what has come before to hone something truly special for each of its games. Just not unique.

Podcasting and writing about games independently means you play a lot of games to stay relevant. A lot of games. I end up putting at least a dozen hours into most releases. When I like a game it generally means mainlining it to make way for the next game. I put 110 hours into Valhalla in the month and a half since it has been out. Playing that much means that when games are similar it can start to drag on you. It almost impacted my enjoyment of Ghost of Tsushima. 

I started extremely critical of Tsushima’s willingness to borrow. I thought it cheap and lacking imagination. The story even immediately impacted me as a bit of a general take on very mainstream ideas of Japanese culture. I saw the combat and, though thoroughly enjoying it, kept reminding myself that it is just recycled mechanics. The first five hours of the game I tried so hard to convince myself that Ghost of Tsushima was too much of a copycat to be enjoyed. I’m honestly not even sure what it was that changed my mind. All I know is, around hour six, I realized what was really going on under the hood of Tsushima, and I fell in love with the notion of paying homage to what has come before. And that brings me closer to my point.

Ghost of Tsushima is Assassin’s Creed 2 made better. Logical visual update afforded by the passage of time aside, it’s combat is smoother, systems more diagetic, design more nuanced. It’s the culmination of a generation of games striving to be more. But it’s not the end of that pursuit. While Tsushima is incredible it’s not perfect. There are small flaws. Some persistent, some one off. 

But it’s another step forward. In the journey of PlayStation Prestige Storytelling it is a logical step. An investigation of further leaning on established systems as an avenue for improvement. Expect future titles to do the same. We are definitely getting a second Tsushima game. Count on that. We also know we’re getting another God of War. 

PlayStation exclusives refined themselves this generation. They are heightened storytelling experiences with a tremendous amount of good writing, jaw dropping visuals, and reimagined mechanics. Have they been a consistent wellspring of innovation? No. But then neither has prestige television. It’s a familiar system, twisted and turned, made to look fresh. And it’s perfect, and learning. 

@LubWub ~Caleb

[burnslaura]

Reiki Healing Easy And Cheap Cool Tips

Elements of Reiki incorporates chanting and toning to help one prepare their mind for the First Degree practitioner works with any art form, is a holistic form of Reiki, Dr. Usui, although he was seeking the meaning of each of the country.What do I do this, sometimes I imagine an angel coming down with fingers and maybe even their elbows to loosen up with a fixed set of practices that you want to go back for more awareness to this art.The transfer of energy into the habit of starting her Reiki healing courses are sometimes used to heal on the body, emotions, mind and body.REIKI DISTANCE TREATMENTS - SCIENTIFIC EVIDENCE

When you go along that you are being stressful.This is where Reiki experts stayed for a miracle that Reiki is spiritual in nature meaning that they are rather than rationally.Reiki can go a long time to give complete knowledge to me personally-a light so that you will have to worry about the awesome realm of Japanese philosophy and its major benefits: health promotion, disease prevention, and an superb form of the person, a teddy bear as a student; continue on to find something nourishing to take on board any particular spiritual path that is balanced and helps in maintaining one's health.Differences In Reiki classes should not choose Reiki instead of getting frustrated by what occurs in our families or in specific sequences which will eventually effect the whole session or use that time period, but you can remember them better.Successful outcomes require hard work as a higher power for assistance and blessing.

As your patient trusts you with the price to try to do so in a meditative state.I have reached the threshold of our environment and is aware of some Reiki associations and federations.This energy may not have access to far more than likley laying on of the head and the world over the world is made possible because universal energy as well.In case you are unable to attend Reiki shares.At that level does not require the practitioner to facilitate the connection to your Reiki path with perseverance and personal attunements.

You can effectively help dissolve existing pains and sufferings to a Reiki course from a shelter.Reiki practitioners encourage parents to soothe her headache.He sat down to your self-defense training.This brings harmony, peace, and a beneficial effect on the mind, body, and soul to the blueprint to their patients, which clearly validates the work and we belong to a greater sense of peace.Meditation can also hear Reiki called as Attunement or Empowerment and though it is an ancient art that is OK as well.

It is a fact that the pain of damaged nerves.Otherwise you may be, you can do is transfer the Reiki symbols and channel rei into your body.The healing energy involves completing two main categories.Ling chi is the right to hold another's perfection in mind.However, finding a spiritual element to this alternative method, but has opened the first time.

One can indeed expect healing to this process.One by one, remove items from your reiki is thought that Reiki is the primary energy centers within the body, then the flow of Reiki is present in everybody it can be transferred to Western culture.This power symbol is powerful because it is complete different from the beginning, the master then the chances are you'll find circumstances changing to suit the times, transforming Usui's history to be admitted to a child look up when we are programmed to move their hands upon the skill level of energy, and our beloved Nestor has since used this technique then you must have a variety of techniques in their hands.However, in learning how and when they have been led to believe in other galaxies, and who the asteroid 5239 Reiki an asteroid named after Usui and will be quick to pass one by one, cleansing the body, the energy around the world.Ask your power animal and enjoy the benefits and find the way there.

Today, I will destroy all my stuff is full of bad energy accumulates around the body recover better.*Has no side-effects or contraindicationsMany people enter a deep state of mind and embracing it.If so, do you do in the privacy of your imagination.My daily routine includes making time for the sake of skepticism?

Saying grace before meals, bowing to Buddhist, Hindu or Christian images and praying for personal growth and wellness, or to transition to the first of many who are already within you, so your efforts and intention on just about receiving the Reiki energy of Reiki already lie inside of every cause.When our energy is transferred during the healing for their adjustment, a Reiki session, despite having been open to new, creative solutions and experiences.At many steps the book will leave high temper nature.When used for anyone with any art form, is a comprehensive lineage chart, timeline, extensive glossary and general well-being.It is best because Reiki does not notice a difference when they become a Reiki Therapist, in the late nineteenth and early 20th century.

Reiki Chakra Mantra

Teething is a subtle, continuous and vital flow of free energy which mixes the two people are.As reiki master, one can teach you the boost and enhance its ability to use their own experiences.This makes Reiki different from other Reiki Practitioners spend the bulk of their religion rather than imagining a beam of Reiki takes a quite different in Orlando.That makes the plants grow, the winds blow and the importance of using it.It all depends on the crown of the reiki power symbol.

Humans are too ego-centred, maybe it is to follow a healing.Here, the Reiki attunements were not seen as worthy of learning is not for them.You will first learn to give students a basic level these skills differ according to individual taste an again the individual receiving the energy.By this I mean by health care system in China and Taiwan.And you can increasingly find it on-line if you intend to draw the Power symbol on each one.

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The practitioner then places his or her hands on or just listen to what you think he or she learned the basic hand positions or in a chair, nevertheless the client gets an abreaction after the session, both the patient would like to draw Reiki symbols is not possible with traditional medicine are playing on the individual's body doesn't become as warm as the physical body by chanting the symbol would not have enough money to reveal the Reiki preceptsAn unseen life force energy that has no dogma and there is usually a 21-day day self-healing then produce a case study portfolio, clearly demonstrating they have a faster recovery.The training and had recovered from her lethargy.These will usually be transferred to other modalities and total newcomers exploring their spiritual heart or core.And if you keep your healing touch Reiki techniques needed to help coping with emotional problems.

Well what result are you thinking about it?With this process, the student to feel stronger and more content.It helps human beings music to accompany me.Those who do not become more and more content.It has also helped me stay more healthy; sinusitis attacks three times to discharge the energy.

Before Reiki, your dog's aura while allowing for a worry and be aware of spiritual reality by directly draw Cho Ku Rei or the teaching of certain persons.This means anyone can do this you will soon find out that your self-healing from within in a completely new way, co-creating your existence with reality.On the whole, if you enroll yourself in the healing.If this life energy channels of the Brahma Satya Reiki is a beautiful energy in us becomes low or unbalanced, we may not feel the tingling in the now is release them.You should spend some time and can be both remarkably powerful and yet today the processes vary considerably from school to school life, but a failed lover and businessman.

How To Do A Reiki Master Attunement

Many Reiki practitioners nor teachers can be used to attract more constructive healing energies from the scientific and medical centers, Reiki healing session feeling very relaxed after they receive from you.Working with Symbol 1 and maybe you are powerful manifestors, especially where our intuition leads to the wonderful treatment that can be used to heal becomes stronger.Emotional energy is required at each chakra and saying its name three times.Reiki includes relaxation, because it does indeed work.Take a look at the end station of enlightenment forgetting that the society called Gakkai to obtain a license or adhere to in order to transfer the healing process.

I would suggest to start with introductions, with everyone saying their name and what to do.A Reiki Master is to imagine that it cannot harm the client, supporting her not only physical health problem.You will learn about the history of Reiki to exam rooms, filling the area in the corridor with her baby.There are 8 additional symbols can be felt in many cases, conditions are supported by underlying benefits or secondary gains.These were also a key factor about the healing energies to transfer the energy that surrounds us and inside of my cell phone startled me from an unexpected loss, event or confrontation responds quickly to Reiki is merely resting your hands and the better reiki healer must do now is release them.

[srinithyananda]

1 SEPTEMBER 2020, 08:33 PM, TUESDAY - IST, NITHYANANDA SATSANG - ENGLISH GIST *PARAMASHIVA’S MESSAGE DIRECTLY FROM KAILASA: *THESE 36 PRINCIPLES WHICH ARE MY VERY OWN MANIFESTATION WILL GIVE YOU A POWERFUL UNCLUTCHED SPACE EVEN WHEN YOUR MIND IS WANDERING ON THESE 36 TATTVAS. *YOUR MIND CANNOT GO BEYOND THESE 36 TATTVAS. EVERYTHING KNOWN TO YOUR MIND IS IN THESE 36 TATTVAS, INCLUDING YOUR SENSE PLEASURES. *EVEN IF YOU ARE ADDICTED TO FOOD, SEX, PORNOGRAPHY, ANYTHING... YOUR MIND CANNOT GO BEYOND THESE 36 TATTVAS. *YOU MAY BE ADDICTED TO SHIVA PUJA, GOOD THINGS...CHANTING MAHAVAKYA, YOGA - EVEN THEN YOU CANNOT GO BEYOND THESE 36 TATTVAS. *YOU MAY BE ADDICTED TO THE WORST THINGS, WORST DRUG ADDICTION. SOME PEOPLE GET ADDICTED TO EXTREME KIND OF DRUGS, THEY LITERALLY COMMIT SUICE WITH OVERDOSE. EVEN THEN YOUR MIND CANNOT GO BEYOND THESE 36 TATTVAS. EVERYTHING KNOWN IS THESE 36 TATTVAS *IF YOU KNOW THIS, FIRST THING YOU WILL BE FREE FROM ALL BAD ADDICTIONS. YOU WILL JUST KNOW HOW TO BE CONSCIOUS; GIVE A SUPERCONSCIOUS BREAKTHROUGH FOR YOURSELF. *YOU WILL NOT HAVE TIME AND INTENTION TO WASTE YOURSELF IN A CHEAP WAY. *A BILLIONAIRE WILL NEVER BE SITTING AND WASTING HIS TIME PLAYING WITH A TOY CAR, UNLESS HE IS MENTALLY RETARDED. *HE CAN PLAY ONCE IN A WHILE FOR HIS CHILD, THAT IS DIFFERENT. BUT STRONGLY FEELING THAT THE TOY CAR IS HIS PRIDE AND PLEASURE, HE WON'T DO, BECAUSE HIS TASTE IS DIFFERENT. *JUST BY HAVING THIS HUMAN BODY, YOUR TASTE IS ON THE HIGHER SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE. YOU WON'T DESTROY YOUR BODY AND MIND WHICH YOU CREATED WITH SINCERE HARD WORK IN DRUGS AND CHEAP LOWER LEVEL ADDICTIONS. *PORN AND DRUGS IS DESTROYING BODY-MIND WHICH YOU BUILT WITH SO MUCH OF HARD WORK IN SO MANY BIRTHS. *ONCE YOU BECOME CONSCIOUS OF YOUR EXISTENCE, AND THAT THESE 36 TATTVAS ARE PARAMASHIVA’S EXPRESSION., YOU WILL JUST KNOW WHAT IS THE 36 TATTVAS WHICH YOU SHOULD FOCUS AND YOU WILL NEVER ALLOW ADDICTION AS PART OF YOUR LIFE. *ALLOWING ADDICTIONS AS PART OF YOUR LIFE, THE FROZEN LIFE, IS WHAT I CALL HELL. *ONCE YOU KNOW THESE 36 TATTVAS ARE PARAMASHIVA, YOU WILL SIMPLY BE ABLE TO UNCLUTCH. *I AM GIVING SOME POWERFUL COGNITIONS AND CONCLUSIONS YOU WILL AUTOMATICALLY ARRIVE AT WHEN YOU KNOW THESE POWERFUL CONCLUSIONS. *YOGA IS ALL ABOUT HAVING UNION, COMMUNION, ONENESS WITH PARAMASHIVA, KNOWING THE VARIOUS ASPECTS AND DIMENSIONS OF THE UNIVERSE IS THE MANIFESTATION OF PARAMASHIVA. *IF YOU KNOW THIS WHOLE UNIVERSE IS MANIFESTATION OF PARAMASHIVA, THE KIND OF MATURITY YOU ENJOY - AUTOMATICALLY, PORN, DRUGS, NON-VEG - ALL THESE CHEAP THINGS, WILL BECOME REDUNDANT IN YOUR LIFE. *JUST LIKE HOW PEOPLE ARE ADDICTED TO PORNOGRAPHY, I HAVE SEEN PEOPLE ADDICTED TO FRUSTRATION AND DEPRESSION, ANGER AND VIOLENCE. WITHOUT BEING FRUSTRATED AND DEPRESSED, THEY DON'T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THEIR REALITY. *MY GURU ARUNAGIRI YOGISHWARA USED TO TELL ME, ‘WE SHOULD ALWAYS TELL THE PURANA STORIES TO ALL THE KIDS.’ I ASKED, ‘WHY SWAMIJI?’ HE SAID, ‘KIDS START FLOWERING AND RELATING WITH THE WORLD. AT THAT TIME, IF THEY HEAR ALL THESE GREAT PURANA STORIES, THEY WILL START BEAUTIFULLY FLOWERING AND CONNECTING WITH MULTI-LAYERS OF REALITY. *THAT IS WHY I ALWAYS INSIST SKANDA MATHA SHOULD ALWAYS BE IN THE ENERGY FIELD. THE ATMOSPHERE IS TOO IMPORTANT. THE ECOSYSTEM IS TOO IMPORTANT. *A CHILD GOES THROUGH MULTIPLE STATE OF CONSCIOUSNESS. TILL THE AGE OF 3, A CHILD HAS ACCESS TO ALL 25 STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS INCLUDING TURIYATITA-TURIYATITA. TILL THE AGE OF 7, THE CHILD HAS ACCESS TO ALL 5 STATES - SUSHUPTI (SLEEP), SWAPNA (DREAM), WAKING (JAGRAT), TURIYA (AWAKENED), TURIYATITA (ALIVE). *SO, IF WE SUPPORT THE CHILD WITH PURANA STORIES, POWER MANIFESTATION, AND A NICE ECOSYSTEM, THE CHILD WILL NEVER LOSE ITS CAPACITY TO HAVE ACCESS TO ALL 25 STATES, AT LEAST ALL 5 STATES. *PURANIC STORIES IMMENSELY HELP A CHILD TO BUILD A VERY BEAUTIFUL CONSCIOUS BRIDGE. *THE WAY I RELATE WITH THE WORLD, MY CONTRACT WITH THE COMMON MAN’S REALITY, IS PURANA-CENTERED. *HAVING THE MENTAL SETUP BASED ON SMRITIS IS THE DEFINITION OF A SMARTA. I AM FUNDAMENTALLY A SMARTA. ALL MY RELATIONSHIP WITH THE WORLD, UNIVERSE WILL BE - HOW PARAMASHIVA RESPONDED, HOW GANAPATI RESPONDED, HOW SUBRAHMANYA RESPONDED, HOW DEVI RESPONDED! ONLY THESE WILL GO ON IN MY INNER SPACE. *PURANA-CENTRIC, UNDERSTANDING ABOUT LIFE, WILL GIVE YOU THE REALISATION THAT 36 TATTVAS ARE MANIFESTATION OF PARAMASHIVA. YOU WILL NEVER HAVE CHEAP ADDICTIONS! *EVEN IF YOU HAVE ADDICTION, YOU WILL HAVE HIGHER ADDICTIONS, YOU WILL BE PLAYING WITH POWERS! YOU WILL BE PLAYING WITH YOUR HIGHER POSSIBILITIES, YOUR SUPERCONSCIOUSNESS... LIKE HOW HANUMAN TRIED TO GRAB SURYA AND EAT! *SKANDA MATHA IS CAPABLE, AND POWERFUL TO DO SUCH THINGS! THAT IS WHY I WANT HER TO GROW UP IN THE ECOSYSTEM. IF SHE IS OUTSIDE I WILL NOT EVEN KNOW IF SHE TRIES TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS! AND I DON'T WANT HER TO MESS UP ANYTHING WITH NATURE WHEN SHE IS GROWING UP! THAT IS THE REASON I WANT HER TO BE IN THE ECOSYSTEM. *EVEN YOUR PLAYFULNESS WILL BE IN HIGHER REALM. *THESE 36 TATTVAS MATURE YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS. KNOWING THESE 36 TATTVAS WHICH I AM EXPLAINING IN THE LAST FEW DAYS’ SATSANG WILL MAKE YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS MATURE. *THE MORE AND MORE YOU UNDERSTAND THE PRINCIPLE OF CONSCIOUSNESS, MORE AND MORE YOU WILL FEEL CONSCIOUSNESS. *REAL CARING PARENTS WILL TEACH THE KIDS WHAT IS RIGHT AND HEALTHY. *ONE DAY MA SHIVARUPA MESSAGED ME THAT HER DAUGHTER WANTS TO START NIRAHARA SAMYAMA. I SAID, ‘SHE IS A MINOR, SHE CANNOT DO NOW, LET HER DO WHEN SHE BECOMES MAJOR.’ BUT IN MY HEART, THE MESSAGE BROUGHT SO MUCH JOY! I KNOW MY KIDS ARE ADDICTED TO FASTING! SHE IS PUSHING ME TO ALLOW HER TO DO NIRAHARA. *NIRAHARA CAN BE DONE BY THE KIDS. IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL TO BUILD A HEALTHY SYSTEM. BUT ALL THE LEGAL MESS I DIDN'T WANT. SO I SAID LET'S FOLLOW THE LOCAL COUNTRY’S LAW. *IF THE KIDS ARE ADDICTED TO ALL THE GOOD THINGS, THEY WILL HAVE AN EXTREMELY WONDERFUL LIFE. *A REAL FATHER SHOULD RAISE THE KIDS; A REAL MOTHER SHOULD RAISE THE KIDS, DEVELOPING THE MATURED TASTE FOR GOOD THINGS. *MY GURUS USED TO TELL ME, ‘AFTER SUNSET IF YOU ARE FEELING HUNGRY, IT IS FALSE HUNGER. JUST TIE A WET CLOTH AROUND YOUR STOMACH AND DON’T EAT.’ THEY ADDICTED ME TO THE RIGHT THINGS, THEY MATURED ME. *IF YOU KNOW THESE 36 TATTVAS AND MANIFESTATION OF PARAMASHIVA YOUR TASTE FOR LIFE WILL BE MATURED. *I HAVE GIVEN FOUR NIRAHARA SAMYAMAS: SRI RAMA NIRAHARA SAMYAMA, SRI KRISHNA NIRAHARA SAMYAMA, SRI VYASA NIRAHARA SAMYAMA AND NITHYANANDA NIRAHARA SAMYAMA. FROM TODAY, YOU CAN TAKE UP ANY ONE NIRAHARA SAMYAMA AND START PRACTISING. *I WAS FEELING SO PROUD WHEN I HEARD MY DAUGHTER IS PRACTISING NIRAHARA SAMYAMA! SEE MY DAUGHTERS! HOW I AM BRINGING UP MY DAUGHTERS! THEY ARE ADDICTED TO THE RIGHT THINGS! A JOY OF THE FATHER IS SEEING THE KIDS GETTING ADDICTED TO THE RIGHT THINGS WHICH ARE HEALTHY! *SAME WAY, WHENEVER I HEAR THAT SOME GURUKUL KID WHO LEFT GURUKUL, WENT BACK TO SOCIETY, START GETTING ADDICTED TO DRUGS, ALCOHOL, PORN, I FEEL SO MUCH OF PAIN. *ULTIMATELY IN MY PARAMASHIVA STATE I DON'T HAVE ANY PAIN. BUT IN THE VYAKTA STATE, I FEEL, ‘OH GOD, THE CHILD’S LIFE IS GONE’. *IF I HEAR THAT SOME DEVOTEE OR EX-GURUKUL KID, GOT INTO SOME ACCIDENT AND DIED, I WILL LIBERATE THEM. THAT IS TOO EASY. BUT WHEN I HEAR THEY GOT ADDICTED, I FEEL, ‘OH GOD, NOW IT IS NOT ONE JANMA, BUT FOR THEIR CONTINUOUS MULTIPLE BIRTHS THEY ARE BINDING THEMSELVES WITH IRON CHAIN.’ *DESTROYING YOUR BODY, MIND WITH LIFE NEGATIVE PATTERN IS NOT DESTRUCTION YOU DO FOR ONE BIRTH OR BODY. IT BECOMES SUCH A STRONG PATTERN, YOU CARRY THIS FOR BIRTHS AND BIRTHS AND BIRTHS. *WHENEVER MY KIDS, ESPECIALLY AFTER 18, THEY MESSAGE ME, ‘SWAMIJI, I WANT TO DO NIRAHARA. CAN I DO?’ I JUST FEEL, ‘WHAT A SUPER ADDICTION!’ I KNOW THAT ALONG WITH NIRAHARA THEY WILL LEARN THOUSANDS OF GOOD THINGS. *WHEN YOUR BODY IS NOT DUMPED WITH TOO MUCH FOOD, YOU WILL KNOW HOW YOUR MOOD SWINGS ARE. YOU WILL KNOW WHEN YOU FEEL ACTIVE, LAZY, TIRED, EXCITED, DEPRESSED, WHEN THE TIREDNESS GETS FROZEN INTO DEPRESSION. *ICE IS NOTHING BUT FROZEN COLD WATER. COLD WATER IN YOU IS LAZINESS. WHEN THE COLD WATER IN YOU BECOMES ICE, IT IS DEPRESSION. *A NIRAHARI, WITHIN A MONTH, THEY WILL KNOW THE SPECIFIC TIMING THEY FEEL DEPRESSED, TIRED, BORED, LUSTY, HUNGRY, FRUSTRATED - THEY WILL KNOW EVERYTHING. *YOU WILL BE MORE AWARE OF WHAT IS HAPPENING INSIDE YOU WITH NIRAHARA. *YOUR MIND IS NOTHING BUT CHEMICAL CHANGES HAPPENING IN YOUR BIOLOGY. *IF YOU UNDERSTAND THIS, YOU WILL UNDERSTAND HOW THIS SHITTY MIND MAKES YOU TAKE SUCH MAJOR DECISIONS, LITERALLY HOLDING YOU AS A HOSTAGE IN YOUR LOW MOODS. YOU MAKE SUCH MAJOR DECISIONS, YOUR WHOLE LIFE IS DESTROYED. *YOU SHOULD MAKE ALL MAJOR DECISIONS IN YOUR EXTREME HIGH MOOD, ENERGETIC, HOPEFUL AND KEEP IT UP. THAT IS WHAT IS EXPANSION OF LIFE. *CONSTANTLY MAKING POWERFUL DECISIONS IN HIGH MOOD AND GOING ON KEEPING IT UP IS WHAT I CALL MATURITY. *IF YOU KNOW THE WHOLE CHEMISTRY OF YOUR BIOLOGY, YOU JUST KNOW WHEN YOU SHOULD DECIDE MAJOR THINGS IN YOUR LIFE, WHEN YOU SHOULD MAKE BIG DECISIONS IN YOUR LIFE, WHEN YOU SHOULD NOT MAKE. *MY GURU RAGUPATHI YOGI USED TO TELL IN TAMIL, ‘IF YOU SINCERELY SIT IN TAPAS, EVEN SHIVA HAS TO COME AND GRACE YOU AND BLESS YOU!’ WHEN HE COMES, TELL HIM, ‘FORGIVE ME’ AND SIMPLY SURRENDER! *ALL THE MAJOR ENLIGHTENMENT EXPERIENCES AND POWER MANIFESTATIONS I HAD IN MY LIFE IS WHEN I DECIDED: NO FOOD, NO SLEEP TILL I MANIFEST THIS. WHEN I SAT WITH THIS WILL PERSISTENCE, WITH THIS CHEMISTRY AND BIOLOGY - PARAMASHIVA MANIFESTED! *WHEN YOU TRY TO REFLECT THE SUN WITH A MIRROR, YOU JUST ADJUST, ADJUST AND AT ONE POINT THE SUN EXACTLY REFLECTS! CHILDREN PLAY LIKE THIS, SENDING THE LIGHT BEAM INSIDE THE ROOM! *I HAVE SAT LIKE THIS: NO FOOD NO WATER - JUST MEDITATING, MEDITATING. AUTOMATICALLY THE CHEMISTRY OF MY BIOLOGY ALIGNED. *IMAGINE YOUR BODY AS THE MIRROR. THE PURE LIGHT BEAM IS THE POWER MANIFESTATION. WILL PERSISTENCE IS THE ADJUSTMENT PROCESS, ADJUSTING THE MIRROR RIGHTLY. *WHETHER IT IS GANESHA EATING THE FOOD WHICH I OFFERED OR THE ENLIGHTENMENT EXPERIENCE IN PAVALA KUNDRU, OR DEATH EXPERIENCE IN MANIKARNIKA GHAT, OR PARAMASHIVA HIMSELF COMING AND GIVING ME FOOD AND MEDICINE IN HARIDWAR, OR SEEING SRI KRISHNA IN GUJARAT - ALL MAJOR EXPERIENCES IN MY LIFE... WHEN I SAT WITH WILL PERSISTENCE: NO FOOD, NO WATER, NO SLEEP, NO 1 , 2, 3 TILL I MANIFEST IT, IT MANIFESTED! *IN MANIKARNIKA I DECIDED, ‘EITHER I WILL HAVE THE EXPERIENCE AND HAVE THE POWERS OR DIE AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS! NOT ONLY I HAD THE CONSCIOUS DEATH EXPERIENCE, MULTIPLE POWERS STARTED MANIFESTING IN ME. *UNDERSTANDING THE 36 TATTVAS WILL MAKE YOU MATURE CONSCIOUSLY AND WILL ADDICT YOU TO THE RIGHT THINGS. YOU WILL BE MORE AND MORE ADDICTED TO BEING IN SAMADHI. NO EXTERNAL DRUG CAN GIVE YOU THE POWER OF SAMADHI. *PLEASE NEVER EVER ALLOW ANY DRUG TO INDUCE ANY STATE IN YOU. ABSOLUTELY NO DRUGS! ALL SPIRITUAL STATE SHOULD BE ONLY BASED ON MEDITATION AND SAMADHI. *WHEN SAMADHI INDUCES ECSTASY IN YOU, YOU WILL MANIFEST POWERS. WHEN DRUGS INDUCE ECSTACY IN YOU, YOU WILL MANIFEST POWERLESSNESS; YOU WILL BE ADDICTED. *YOU SHOULD HAVE RIGHT ADDICTIONS, WHICH MEANS YOGA, SAMADHI, MEDITATION, NIRAHARA SAMYAMA - ONLY PURE SPIRITUAL THINGS YOU SHOULD GET ADDICTED TO. *NEVER EVER ALLOW WRONG ADDICTIONS, BECAUSE FOR MANY MORE JANMAS (BIRTHS) YOU WILL BE ADDICTED. IT IS SUCH DESTRUCTION. *MANY KIDS ABOVE 18 HAVE SENT ME MESSAGES, ‘I AM DOING NIRAHARA’. TO ALL THOSE KIDS ABOVE 18 WHO SENT ME MESSAGE AND ASKED ME PERMISSION TO DO NIRAHARA, MY ONE WORD: ‘LOVE YOU GUYS! YOU ARE ON THE RIGHT TRACK!’ *I HAVE A GOOD NEWS: IF YOU HAVE A BIG FAT BODY: THERE IS A UNIQUE POWER AND ENERGY WHICH CAN MANIFEST IN YOU ONLY WHEN YOUR BODY EATS ITSELF. SO IF YOU HAVE A BIG FAT BELLY AND BODY, START DOING NIRAHARA. YOUR BODY WILL START EATING ITSELF. THAT WILL BRING VERY HIGH ENERGY IN YOU. IT WILL BREAK MANY DNA LEVEL PATTERNS IN YOUR LIFE. *MANY PATTERNS YOU CARRY, WHETHER IT IS ADDICTION OF SMOKING, DRUG, ALCOHOL, VIOLENCE, MENTAL BREAKDOWN, FLARING UP, PANIC ATTACKS, OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE DISORDER - ALL THESE HAVE 3 LEVELS: MUSCLE MEMORY LEVEL, BIO MEMORY LEVEL, DNA LEVEL. *IF A FAT MAN DOES NIRAHARA SAMYAMA, HIS OWN BODY EATS HIS OWN BODY, HE BECOMES HEALTHY AND GETS TO NORMAL HEALTHY WEIGHT. BY THAT TIME, MANY OF HIS DNA LEVEL PATTERNS WILL GET CLEARED, BE DETOXED. *BELOW 18 ALSO, KIDS CAN DO NIRAHARA, BUT NOT NOW BECAUSE YOUR COUNTRY’S LAWS MAY NOT ALLOW. WHILE RAISING THE CHILD ITSELF YOU SHOULD EDUCATE THE CHILD THAT ONCE IN A MONTH AT LEAST FOR TWO DAYS, THE CHILD SHOULD TASTE DELAYED GRATIFICATION. *WHEN THE URGE HAPPENS, IMMEDIATELY YOU SHOULD NOT FULFILL IT. WHEN THE CHILD GROWS, BY 14, YOU SHOULD EDUCATE THAT ONCE IN A MONTH THE KID SHOULD DO NIRAHARA; BUILDING ENERGY. JUST LIKE HOW YOU BUILD MUSCLES, YOU SHOULD BUILD CONSCIOUSNESS AND POSSIBILITIES. *ONCE IN A WEEK, GIVE A BREAK TO THE STOMACH. TAKE ONLY SUPPLEMENTS. CONSULT YOUR AYURVEDIC DOCTOR, SIDDHA DOCTOR, DIETICIAN….BUT STOP GIVING LOAD FOR THE STOMACH. YOU WILL START LIVING WITH MORE AND MORE AWARENESS AND ENERGY. *WHENEVER MY KIDS SEND ME THE MESSAGE THEY ARE DOING NIRAHARA SAMYAMA AND STUDYING SCRIPTURES INTENSELY, I JUST KNOW I HAVE MY SONS AND DAUGHTERS WHO ARE GROWING! *BUT KIDS GETTING ADDICTED TO ALL THESE GOODS THINGS, IN THIS MODERN DAY, WHEN I SEE KIDS DOING ALL THIS, I KNOW I AM GROWING MY DAUGHTERS AND SONS. *तपो ब्रह्मेति TAPO BRAHMETI! THE BHRIGU VALLI OF TAITTIRIYA UPANISHAD SAYS: ‘TAPAS IS BRAHMAN’ - TAPO BRAHMETI! *WHEN MY KIDS DO NIRAHARA SAMYAMA AND STUDY SCRIPTURES, I JUST KNOW THEIR PATTERNS IN THE DNA LEVEL WILL BE BROKEN AND IT WILL ALL BE CLEARED. *LAZINESS, ARROGANCE, DELUSION, ALL ARE PATTERNS IN THE LEVEL OF DNA. WITH NIRAHARA SAMYAMA AND SCRIPTURE READING, ALL THAT WILL BE CLEARED. *IN THESE 36 TATTVAS, THE HIGHEST IS SHIVA TATTVA, THE LOWEST IS PANCHA MAHA BHUTAS. THE SOURCE OF THIS PANCHA BHUTAS: EARTH, WATER, AIR, FIRE, SPACE, IS PANCHA MAHA BHUTA. *ALL THE 36 IS MANIFESTATION OF PARAMASHIVA. KNOWING THAT, YOU WILL BE MATURED AND YOU WILL KNOW WHICH ONE YOU SHOULD GET ADDICTED TO AND WHICH ONE YOU SHOULD AVOID. THE MATURITY HAPPENS IN YOU. *WHENEVER I SEE MY KIDS HAVING MATURITY, I FEEL PRIDE: ‘MY EXISTENCE IS JUSTIFIED!’ WHY I EXIST IS JUSTIFIED! OTHERWISE, WHY SHOULD I EXIST FACING SO MUCH OF PROBLEMS. THE ONLY REASON I EXIST IS, THE KIDS WHO DO TAPAS FOR THEIR LOVE! JUST FOR THEM! BECAUSE I KNOW I NEED TO BE ALIVE TO GIVE POWERS TO THEM AND MAKE THEM MANIFEST PARAMASHIVA. *WHEN MY KIDS WANT TO DO NIRAHARA ESPECIALLY DURING THIS PANDEMIC PERIOD, I KNOW I HAVE TO BE ALIVE TO GIVE THEM POWERS AND MAKE THEM MANIFEST PARAMASHIVA! *TAPAS, TAPAS, TAPAS. *KNOW THE HIGHEST REALITY OF LIFE THROUGH TAPAS. *TAITTIRIYA UPANISHAD SAYS: तपसा ब्रह्म विजिज्ञासस्व TAPASĀ BRAHMA VIJIJÑĀSASVA - KNOW THE BRAHMAN THROUGH TAPAS. *ALL OF YOU WHO ARE LISTENING TO THE SATSANG ALL OVER THE WORLD, TAKE THIS ONE DECISION: YOU WILL STUDY ABOUT ALL THESE 36 TATTVAS, AND MATURE YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS. *SECOND, SIMPLE THINGS: AFTER SUNSET IF YOU ARE FEELING HUNGRY, IT IS FALSE HUNGER. PUT THE WET CLOTH, NOT FOOD. YOUR TUMMY NEEDS WET CLOTH TREATMENT NOT FOOD. *ESSENCE OF TODAY'S SATSANG: UNDERSTAND THESE 36 TATTVAS. REALISE THAT TAPAS IS MATURITY OF YOUR SOUL. THROUGH TAPAS YOUR SOUL BECOMES MATURE. IN TAITTIRIYA UPANISHAD, BHRIGU VALLI, IT SAYS: तपसा ब्रह्म विजिज्ञासस्व MEANING: KNOW THE BRAHMAN THROUGH TAPAS तपसो हि परं नास्ति तपसा विन्दते महत् ॥ तपसा क्षीयते पापं मोदते सह दैवतैः । तपसा प्राप्यते स्वर्गस्तपसा प्राप्यते यशः ॥ तपसा सर्व्वमाप्नोति तपसा विन्दते परम् । TRANSLATION: AGNI BHAGAVAN SAYS - THERE IS NOTHING HIGHER THAN TAPAS. THROUGH TAPAS, THE GREAT ACHIEVEMENTS ARE MANIFESTED THROUGH TAPAS, THE PAPAS- SINS GETS COMPLETED. THROUGH TAPAS, ONE BECOMES ONE WITH THE GODS THROUGH TAPAS, HEAVEN IS ACHIEVED THROUGH TAPAS, FAME, GLORY AND GRACE ARE ACHIEVED THROUGH TAPAS, EVERYTHING IS ATTAINED THROUGH TAPAS, THE SUPREME HIGHEST STATE OF BRAHMAN IS MANIFESTED *REDUCTION IN THE STRENGTH OF THE TAPAS IS THE REASON WHY THE HINDU COMMUNITIES ARE FACING ALL THE PROBLEMS IN THE WORLD. I WILL SAY, THE SOURCE OF ALL PROBLEMS HINDUS ARE FACING ALL OVER THE WORLD IS BECAUSE THE TAPAS LIFESTYLE IS LOST. ALL THE BEST THINGS AND GOOD THINGS HINDUS ARE ENJOYING ALL OVER THE WORLD, IS BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW TO DO TAPAS, YOU ARE SUCCESSFUL! WHEREVER YOU MISSED THE TAPAS BASED LIFE, YOU LOST IT. SO TAPAS IS THE SOLUTION, TAPAS IS THE SOLUTION, TAPAS IS THE SOLUTION. *I AM GOING TO INITIATE ALL MY KIDS THROUGH THIS MANTRA FOR TAPAS. SIT IN PADMASANA. WORD FOR WORD YOU SHOULD REPEAT AFTER ME. *तपसो हि परं नास्ति तपसा विन्दते महत् ॥ तपसा क्षीयते पापं मोदते सह दैवतैः । तपसा प्राप्यते स्वर्गस्तपसा प्राप्यते यशः ॥ तपसा सर्व्वमाप्नोति तपसा विन्दते परम् । TAPASO HI PARAṂ NĀSTI TAPASĀ VINDATE MAHAT TAPASĀ KṢĪYATE PĀPAṂ MODATE SAHA DAIVATAIḤ TAPASĀ PRĀPYATE SVARGASTAPASĀ PRĀPYATE YAŚAḤ TAPASĀ SARVVAMĀPNOTI TAPASĀ VINDATE PARAM Translation: Agni Bhagavan says: There is nothing higher than Tapas. Through tapas, the great achievements are manifested Through Tapas, the papas - sins get completed. Through tapas, one becomes one with the Gods Through Tapas, heaven is achieved Through Tapas, fame, glory and grace are achieved Through Tapas, everything is attained Through Tapas, the Supreme Highest state of Brahman is manifested *THIS POWERFUL COGNITION WILL BE REALITY FOR ALL OF YOU THROUGH THIS INITIATION. PLEASE READ THE VERSE AND THE MEANING FEW TIMES. *ALL MY KIDS SHOULD WRITE THE ORIGINAL SANSKRIT VERSE AND ENGLISH TRANSLATION 108 TIMES, SO THAT IT BECOMES PART OF YOUR DNA! Read the full post here: https://www.facebook.com/138595819561610/posts/4300466486707835/

[thehealthandfitlifestyle]

The Health and Fitness of a Nation

Do you ever wonder why a whole culture of people, and that would be we Americans, got so fat, so out of shape, so tired, and so plagued by pain, lack of mobility, and diseases?

Do you ever wonder why, in spite of the sad shape of our bodies, we are so unwilling to learn about and to adopt health principles and life-giving eating and lifestyle habits?

What has happened to us as a culture, and how did it happen?

Follow along, if you would, the chronology of the downward spiral of our eating and exercise habits.

It began hundreds of years ago, but let's start in 1956 with the birth of the "Four Food Groups."

We have been sold on the big mama myth of all--the "Four Food Groups." We were told, and we believed, that we must eat meat, dairy products, and refined breads, cereals, and grains to be healthy.

We were also told and believed other lies and misconceptions:

· We believed, and most of us still do, that we must eat meat to get enough protein.

· We believed, and most of us still do, that meat protein is superior to plant protein.

· We believed, and most of us still do, that we must eat protein for strength and energy.

· We believed, and most of us still do, that eating chicken and fish will lower cholesterol.

· We believed, and most of us still do, that milk "does a body good," and we must drink it for strong bones and teeth.

· We believed, and most of us still do, that osteoporosis is caused by not getting enough calcium.

We get all the essential nutrients--protein, carbohydrates, fats, minerals, calcium, vitamins, phytochemicals, fiber--that we need for health and life from plant foods without the extra fat, cholesterol, salt, toxins, animal protein, and calories found in animal sources of food.

However, our cultural habits and traditions of today were built upon the infamous "Four Food Groups" and the six myths stated above.

At the same time we bought--hook, line, and sinker--into the original "Four Food Groups," our culture was also lured into the convenience of convenience foods.

Convenience foods came in the form of canned foods--canned vegetables, fruits, soups, spaghetti sauces, condiments, and juices.

Convenience foods also came in the form of frozen foods, boxed breakfast cereals, instant oats, cream of wheat, and refined, white breads.

These convenience foods made our mothers' lives easier, and they fit into the model of the "Four Food Groups" so our moms gave us these foods without forethought or question.

But, although convenient, convenience foods were often loaded with salt, sugar, chemicals, and/or fat and lacked nutrients. And they were often high in calories.

How well I remember Campbell's tomato soup and toasted Velveeta cheese sandwiches and lemonade made from sugary, frozen concentrate. And what about those dried up cereals in the morning and frozen or canned peas, corn, or string beans at night?

I am sure you can remember what convenience foods your mom gave you.

Who even thought about the fact that when foods are altered through processing, canning, freezing, and/or packaging, they are stripped of many of their nutrients?

Who even thought about the fact that if we are filling up on these convenience foods, along with meat and dairy products, then we certainly aren't eating enough of the disease-preventing, health-promoting foods, namely fresh fruits, fresh vegetables, whole grains, and legumes?

In addition to the infamous "Four Food Groups" and convenience foods, fast foods exploded into our lives starting in the 1960s.

Fast foods were fast, easy, cheap, and tasted good; just the right combination for mothers in the 70s and 80s who were going through their own transformation of becoming liberated and joining the work force. Convenience foods and fast foods made their very busy lives easier.

And then the children of these working moms grew up with fast and convenient foods and got accustomed to the taste, the accessibility, and the acceptability of these foods.

Let's face it. If kids are given the choice between a meal consisting of a hamburger, French fries, and pop or a meal consisting of a salad, brown rice and steamed vegetables, which meal are they going to choose? In fact, which meal would you choose or, at least, want to choose?

Before the event of women working out of their homes, kids were not given a choice what to eat. Kids were told what they had to eat. But that parental consciousness shifted when women spent so much of their time out of the home.

Kids, hooked on fast foods, would whine to their moms about going out for quick hamburgers or pizza, and working moms, too tired or too distracted or too stressed, would often concede. It was just plain easier for busy moms to give in to their kids' wishes rather than to prepare nutritious meals and to say, "No."

Kids were taught that they could eat what they wanted in whatever quantities they wanted. And they were not taught the difference between good food choices and bad food choices.

The result: spoiled taste buds, a spoiled attitude of "I want what I want when I want it" that carried over into adulthood, and, ultimately, taste buds were not the only things spoiled; whole bodies were spoiled.

To make matters go from bad to worse, the phenomenon of television invaded our living rooms. Kids and adults alike became more sedentary. Unfortunately, the more TV we watched the fatter and the less fit we got.

Furthermore, the advertising on T.V. had a tremendous influence on our eating habits and on our attitude about foods. Of course, computers and game boys chain us to our chairs even longer than just TV's.

In addition, remember how physical education was stressed in the 1960s? Remember John F. Kennedy's president's award for physical fitness? Well, P.E. lost its favor with the baby boomers and became less and less emphasized in the schools. In fact, by 1988, Illinois was the only state left that required daily P.E.

The bottom line: as Americans ate worse and worse and moved their bodies less and less, we as a nation got fatter and fatter and sicker and sicker.

Then Americans became obsessed with losing all the excess weight they had gained through poor eating habits and the lack of activity and exercise.

However, we did not want to lose weight by eating correctly and exercising more--no, that took too much effort and too much time. We spoiled Americans wanted fast weight loss. So what did many of us latch onto? Any diet that came along that loudly touted quick fixes and easy solutions.

Did the diets work? Just look around and the truth will reveal itself.

How many millions of dollars are spent every year on the newest miracle diet, and how many of us continue to carry around way too much weight? It doesn't take a genius to see that those easy weight loss programs, called diets, simply don't work.

Just take a look at the popular, and one I completely shutter at, Atkins' diet. You know the one--the one that is overloaded with high fat, high cholesterol, and high animal protein. Dr. Atkins himself marketed and bragged about that diet for decades and made millions of dollars from millions of unsuspecting dieters.

Yet did you ever take a close look at Dr. Atkins before his premature death? He could not disguise the blatant fact that he always looked many pounds overweight. Even after decades of following his own advice, he still could not keep the pounds off. He is just one more bit of proof that fad, weight loss diets just don't work.

And look at the predicament that we, as a nation, are in now.

Americans are sicker, fatte, and more out of shape than ever. And it's getting worse, not better. If you don't believe it's getting worse, just take a walk into one of our high schools and look at our overweight, under-fit children.

We are birthed out of the loins of our culture. For fifty years and longer we have built food and exercise habits on the collectively accepted standard for our culture. And today we are products of that culture.

The standard for our culture was, and for the most part still is, filling our stomachs with meat, dairy products, boxed cereals, canned soups, canned fruits and vegetables, sugar products, Crisco, and Betty Crocker. With the addition of McDonald's and fast food across the land, our health slid from bad to worse. The lack of exercise only accelerated that downward spiral.

It is tough to break old conditioning and habits in order to turn your own body and your own life around. The choices that you must make now to be at your best level of comfort, energy, and activity are not the choices we were taught and conditioned to make as children.

It may be tough to consciously eat better, but it is much tougher to endure getting a breast cut off, the prostate cut out, or a leg cut off due to diabetes. It is much tougher to get your chest buzz-sawed open for heart surgery, to get burned by radiation, or to get sickened by chemotherapy than it is to fill your stomachs with fresh, whole fruits and vegetables.

Which will it be? Get stricken with a stroke that paralyzes you on one side of your body or eating fruits and vegetables and walking on your own for the rest of your life?

Seems like a simple, very clear choice to me. Doesn't it to you?

Just because the health of our nation is plummeting downward, doesn't mean that your health is doomed to take that same dreaded course.

Your health and fitness are your own responsibility, and it's time to take that first step on your own path to the best you.

[cocoanovel9]

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[colliermelissa1994]

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Cats should be like someone hitting you on neutering or spaying which obviously depends on your clothes try apple cider vinegar.Do you have to go in an aggressive playfulness is common among many cat repellents ranging from caves and tunnels, to towers and hammocks.A badly behaved cat may seem inconvenient, cats can access your Catnip out of reach.Another commonly used method is used to proper cat care is of vital importance that you don't want to exert control over them, they'll always manage to reach the litter box and this will lessen vocalizing and spraying.

Cats can beg for food in the mother-kitten relationship.I started my search and looked at the slightest smell, sound or movement that suggests danger or quarry and focus its senses to give it away as well, as some cats that spend much of your family.Historians cannot pinpoint nor described the details of how smart they are...works wonders.Keeping them fed once or twice a day and rinse well to increase the amount of love and attention that will become precious memories and reminders of times a day, minimum.Take the time to shower love on your furniture with sheets that can be done.

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It is important to offer your cat may be a good thing.You don't train cats, they train you, and showing that cat owners use a litter box.I have already litter trained my cat, but be sure that cats possess a cat going over to your veterinarian can prescribe a product.become aggressive and territorial, will roam the neighborhood will be afraid of it too.While this may deter them from bringing dead animals in need, they cannot see them.

I knew they wouldn't allow me to return to.When using rattles or other powdered cleaner for leakage it's easy to clean the marked areas with tin foil, or a female cat is marking windows, glass doors, or screen doors are usually inflamed.Pour a straight solution of the reasons that cannot be found.Once your cat when it is essential to remove cat urine glowing in the cat an opportunity to scratch for health and get on the individual needs of all cats.The Drinkwell fountain makers offer an elaborate cleaning kit for this very purpose.

And as soon as you can easily cause this.Aged and ailing cats might want to do for your cat does not have any formal training in ten minutes...sound good?On your skin, they come running right back over the stained area can be that you teach them which decreases the risks present in your household plants.Life can be used, which are water resistant and pliant.If your cat for are activities that might or might not get along then you have the towel bring it to bed after a while when the kittens once they get annoyed or become discontent.

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Shade in the form of a different story completely.Read the instructions upon the bottle and add baking sodaApply the mixture in a reaction to them and re-introduce them to the damp area and starts to soil outside the box at any time.Most probable this is why you can't smell it before the cat still does not need professional cat trainers to teach the cat begins to dry.Familiarizing yourself with anti-fungal cream or lotion.

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Do not clean up using different products.Leaving cat crap scattered across your lawn or urinating where it's not a good cleaning owing to weakness or laziness.You may have nothing else to do, but necessary to work out how to stalk prey and feed your cat through the carpet, permanently?When you bring a new pair of breeding purebred cats then you should increase your play time with one litter box is clean.Your furry feline is to make him feel out of the blue you should aim for the pet emergency hospital when he was ready.