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altf4dotwav · 2 years ago

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DISPATCH_2

It's sort of common for some people with trauma to say "I wish I never felt ever again," or something to that effect. To never feel an emotion again sometimes would solve almost all of my immediate issues. No more anxiety to disable me. No depressive thoughts. Nothing. I would just float on from one year to the next in ignorant bliss.

I always said that I felt things more intensely than others. One of my best friends is like that too. I remember he was talking about something that really hit him hard and why he reacted the way he did to it. He said, "I'm just a giant pussy," but in a way that meant he owned that. He *is* a giant pussy, like myself, in the way that he is aware that he feels emotions and is effected by them. It was something that I hold onto till this very day. Yeah, I'm a huge giant dripping pussy of emotions. And I'm okay with that. It keeps me from feeling like I never want to experience emotions. It grounds me by reminding me that a person I love dearly can feel the same way as I do sometimes, but they own it and I can too.

Feeling happy is bittersweet. For a long time, I always thought happiness was just a small treat for living life. You got small moments where you're happy, but the rest of life is miserable. And it's hard now to look back and see if I've ever really been happy in my life. I grew up in rough conditions at times and I'm a victim of child abuse. I've been homeless 3 times across the span of my life. I didn't date until I was 19. I've tried to end my own life too many times to count. How do I feel like I could ever be happy if all I've ever known is the worst possible outcome besides death?

What happens when your brain can manufacture that feeling of happiness? How do you know that the joy you're feeling is real or just a symptom?

Mania is a terrifying force while also, ironically, being one of the best feelings in the world. It's almost euphoric. You laugh the hardest at all the jokes and feel uplifted and motivated. There isn't a drug in the world that'll make you feel as good as pure Mania does. You're invincible.

But you're also irrational, easily angered, mean, impulsive. It only takes a small transgression to switch to a Monster. You lash out and hurt others desperately to bring them down to the near bedrock that is your level. You fall off the top of the mountain into a ravine. You end up in a broken pile of anger and impulsive thoughts at the bottom.

YOU MADE ME DO THIS LOOK AT WHAT YOU MADE ME DO THIS IS YOUR FAULT I DID THIS BECAUSE OF YOU BLAME GAME

My Word document closes and the Transmission application pops up in its place. OUT is in grey but IN is pulsing slowly, begging me to click on it. I do and I'm taken to an MSN email box. A single email greets me with the title CLAIM YOUR FREE GIFT!!!!!!!! The mouse cursor hovers over it, my instincts screaming at me to exit out of the window. I click it anyway. There's only one sentence in the body of the email:

EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THE DAY, IT CANNOT ALWAYS BE NIGHT

I look up from the monitor of the computer, startled by the woosh of a fireplace coming to life suddenly from across The Room. The bright orange and yellow light of the dancing flames have lit up The Room enough so I can see its entirety.

It's a bare room with only the desk, my chair, the fireplace, and a picture of a helicopter hanging completely square on the wall opposite from the desk. Under the picture is a sturdy dark wooden door. The handle is gone and a bar welded across the middle let me know the door is basically decoration at this point. The walls are a pale eggshell white with tiny cracks near the top, spiderwebbing out upwards towards the black and infinite chasm of what should be a roof. The Room is small and circular like I'm at the top of a lighthouse, only the windows have been walled over by a slumlord.

A Jenga puzzle of old but pristine wooden planks make up the floor. The old wood had warped and settled over decades, creating small canyons between some boards. By the fireplace, I notice a big cardboard box labelled "TO HELIPORT" stamped on the side is now visible. For the first time since I've been aware of this Room, I feel compelled to get up to see what is inside the cardboard cube.

I'm not even aware of how I got to the box by the time I'm standing in front of it; as if an edit was made between me getting up from the chair and walking a short distance.

The top of the box has a fine layer of dust on it and is sealed with clear packing tape. A box cutter is sitting on top of the tape, taunting me. I feel my heart pick up as my hands start to shake. What is going on? Why am I scared?

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID 3 TIMES YOU FAILED EVERY TIME NOW YOU'RE ONLY LEFT WITH SCARS OF EMBARASSMENT MARKINGS OF WEAKNESS LINES OF SHAME YOU BLAMED IT ON HER YOU ARE A MONSTER

With the swipe of a hand, I slap the knife into the fire off the top of the box like I was angrily shooing away a fly. The knife flies off the box and lands directly into the fireplace with a burst of embers as it hit the logs. Dust flies up into the air in the aftermath like dull glitter celebrating my beautiful display of hand-eye coordination. Pride washes over me, not only for eliminating this perceived threat of the knife, but also by the aim of the swat. I do a small fist pump.

I realize now that I'm also anxious about the contents of this box. Gently grabbing the sides, I try to lift the box slowly to judge its weight. To my surprise, the box is very light and feels like it's completely empty, but the feeling of something small and flat sliding around told me otherwise.

I set the box down and push the sides in that are at each end of the stretch of tape holding the box together. As both sides come in, it creates enough space for my finger to get in and rip the tape off cleanly. My hands have done this many times and I didn't even realize it was happening until I set the box down.

Dust swirls around in the light of the fireplace as I look at the cardboard square in front of me. I lift the flaps up to find a small electronic device sitting at the bottom. It's black and square with a small screen taking up the top third of the body. A circle dominates the last two thirds under the screen. On the top is a tiny switch on one side and a hole on the other with a wire plugged into it that splits off in two at the end.

It was an iPod.

The metal back of the mp3 player was cold in my hands as I picked it up. The headphones dangled like stiff and dirty strands of hair while I stared at the electronic device in my hand.

This is Mine.

I push the middle of the circle pad and the screen glows to life. My hands know exactly what to do with the iPod as my thumb scrolls through the system to find out what is on this thing. I get to the Artists section and scroll through a list of bands that activate the pleasure centers of my brain. It felt like I scrolled for a lifetime by the time I got to the end. Nothing stood out to me so I went back to see if there were any videos.

There was only one file labeled "themanwhosoldtheworld.mp4" in the Videos folder. This can be either a killer David Bowie song Past Me must have loved or another bit of information on just what the fuck is going on here. I make sure to check out the earbuds to see if they're nasty, and put them into my ears. With a satisfying *click* of the middle button, the video starts playing on the tiny screen.

Static of white noise and the bustle of people could be heard. It looked like the video was shot in a supermarket. The camera pans down, looking into a large, long freezer of various frozen bags of food. Suddenly, the camera stops and whips upwards to a woman's face. The camera person shouts excitedly, "FWENCH FWIES??" to which the woman responds just as excited with "FWENCH FWIES?!?!?!?!" Her face immediately gives me goosebumps, in a good way. She loves me.

Cut to black

A new video starts

The camera is pointing towards a sliding glass door and still. Behind the glass is a wooden porch where two people sit on stools, Me and another man. The porch is elevated, meaning we're on the second floor. We're both dressed in basketball shorts and hoodies on a beautiful fall day. I have a bong in my hand while we're both laughing. There's a cat in a hammock stuck to the glass by suction cups. A dog sits between Me and My Friend, her face blank with pure joy as she looks between us. My heart swells with emotion as my entire relationship with this man flashes before me. These images flick by on the screen for just moments, but I recognize every one of them. Us hugging on a porch while My Friend cries on my shoulder. In a van with desolate winter flying past us as we talk about everything. A kitchen of a fast food restaurant bustles with movement as the two of Us work back to back, talking shit to each other. Us together at a concert, singing in tandem with our other friends to every song. He's the first person who made me feel valuable in my existence. This person also loves me.

Cut to black

THIS IS WHAT MATTERS HOW CAN YOU GIVE THIS UP HOW COULD YOU EVEN TRY THIS IS LIFE AREN'T YOU GLAD YOU'RE HERE

I pull the earbuds out of my ears and look up. I'm back in the chair at the computer and my head feels like it's made of clam chowder. There's an immense pressure behind my forehead as my vision goes black.

My eyes open and I realize I'm facedown on the keyboard with drool leaking out of my mouth. I groan and blink my eyes for a few moments, realizing I don't have enough strength to lift my head or straighten my back to get off this keyboard. Hell, I can't even lift my arms up from dangling next to me like wet noodles. Even if I could, there's no way I could muster the power to push myself off the desk. Tears drip out of my eyes as I feel helpless and weak slouched over the computer. I understand what's happening after a moment and I settle in as I wait for the strength to come back to my body. I'm left with my thoughts the entire time and wish I never felt anything ever again.

The computer makes a short error noise that startles me out of my haze. I drag my eyes up to see if anything has changed on the monitor since I last checked. There's a Word document open that says:

GET TO WORK WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW WHEN YOU'RE DONE HIT SAVE DISPATCH WILL RELAY MESSAGE GOOD LUCK CHOOSE LIFE

A new document opens with the file name Dispatch_2 and a prompt at the top of the clean white digital page:

Have you ever felt happy?

I smile and laugh at how ironic this prompt is as I slowly lift my head up from the keyboard. A snail trail of slobber followed my face up as I fix my posture in the chair to be upright. After a lot of groans and heavy breathing, I'm able to put myself into a position to type.

And I start writing what I know.

It's sort of common for some people with trauma to say "I wish I never felt ever again," or something to that effect.

#dispatch

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conraadwindowsanddoors · 2 years ago

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#UPVC windows and doors #UPVC windows from Gurgaon's top manufacturers #UPVC windows #conraad doors and windows #upvc doors dealers

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fangirlshrewt97 · 4 years ago

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Underneath Your Clothes

Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)

Pairing: Joe x Nicky

Read on AO3

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You're a song Written by the hands of God Don't get me wrong 'Cause this might sound to you a bit odd But you own the place Where all my thoughts go hiding And right under your clothes Is where I find them Underneath your clothes There's an endless story There's the man I chose There's my territory And all the things I deserve For being such a good girl honey

- “Underneath Your Clothes” by Shakira

Nicky hummed mindlessly to the Italian song that was floating in through the open window. The singer was barely sixteen, but his voice was reminiscent of the great crooners. He always left with a tidy haul at the end of the day whenever he stopped by their corner. Nicky made a mental note to give him one of his pastries if he caught him before he left for the day.

The timer went off as the kid finished off his song. Nicky removed the baking tray into the oven, closing the door behind him with his hip. He placed the tray on the counter before turning off the timer. He smirked at it, a novelty “Italian Chef” timer Nile had gotten him for Christmas a few years ago. That had been a fun one.

He transferred the baked goods into a couple of large boxes once they had cooled and set the tray in the sink to soak. Once that was done, he cleaned the rest of the kitchen, satisfied only when the counters gleamed and the rest of the dishes were either put away or drying on the rack. Wiping his hands on the kitchen towel, he stepped away from the room. Rolling his neck, Nicky massaged one of his wrists, relieving the tension built up from a day spent rolling and preparing dough.

Glancing at the clock showed that it was 3 in the afternoon. Not bad for a day’s work. Checking the doors and windows were properly closed, Nicky made his way further into the house. Some of their down times were spent just catching their breath from a rough mission. Others, like this one, were to ground themselves back into the world, to remind themselves that their lives did not have to just be blood, vengeance, and seeking to bring justice to the evils of the world.

The breeze that drifted through the bedroom was tinged with the warm sunshine of the Mediterranean sun and the salty tinge of the sea. He leaned against the doorway, smiling softly at the sight that greeted him. Joe, sitting up with his back to the door, both hands in the air, fingers interwoven as he grunted from the stretching exercise. Once he finished, releasing a heavy breath, he placed his hands at the small of his back, curving backwards as far as he could go. The next exercise was placing his hands firmly by his hips and twisting his body until the cracks rang out. Nicky winced at their volume. Unfortunately muscle tension was not something that their healing cured.

Joe had decided to volunteer himself to help out with the renovations happening at the orphanage down the street because his husband had the largest heart that Nicky knew of. For the past three weeks they had been here, Joe would wake up without complaint when Nicky woke him at sunrise and leave for work. He would usually return after sunset, having stayed behind to wrangle the kids for dinner, hair covered in dust, plaster, paint, or on one memorable occasion, all three. Nicky occasionally dropped by to help with the kids, otherwise he occupied himself with cooking food for the crews and for the children.

But today was Sunday, so Joe had spent his day off sleeping most of the morning and afternoon away except for the meals Nicky had forced into him.

“Need help?” Nicky said softly as Joe grunted for the third time trying to stretch his arms all the way up.

Joe turned his head to see him quickly, shooting him one of his signature smiles. His shoulders betrayed his tiredness though. “I would never say no to your hands on me, ya amar.”

Snorting, Nicky made his way over to Joe, going around the bed to stand between his open legs. Gently, Nicky cupped the back of Joe’s neck with both hands and dug his thumbs into the space between his jaw and ears. Joe groaned, tipping forward until his forehead rested on Nicky’s stomach.

“Don’t stop.” Joe whined as Nicky moved to massage the back of Joe’s neck.

Nicky dipped down to press a kiss to the top of Joe’s head, the root of his palms skating their way down his back in a firm press. Joe’s spine seemed to melt beneath his hands as his husband went floppy in his arms. He repeated the motion twice more, switching to a faster pace, and then to using folded fingers.

“Maybe you should take a break Joe, just because our bodies don’t stay hurt or ache doesn’t mean we cannot be sore if we push ourselves hard enough.” Nicky said while bringing his hands back up until they rested on Joe’s broad shoulders.

Joe let his head fall back, eyes half closed as he peered up at Nicky. “We are so close though Nicky. Just one more week.”

Nicky sighed. “Alright my love.”

Joe smiled at him and fully closed his eyes, nudging his head back into Nicky’s hands.

“Si, si, I am getting to it.” Nicky said fondly, bringing his fingers up to bury themselves in Joe’s curls. Systematically, he gathered the hair into two fists, squeezed, and then relaxed, moving to cover all of Joe’s scalp. He moved down to squeeze intermittently at his forehead, then to his ears, tugging and rubbing at them. He pressed his thumbs to Joe’s temple, the hum from his husband’s throat vibrating through his hands. A firm swipe down his proud nose, another two across the faint field of freckles spotted near the bridge of his nose. Strong hold of the jaw, fingers curling through the beard.

When Joe was halfway to sleep, Nicky leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. And then another two over his closed eyelids.

Joe’s eyes fluttered open. “Hayati, I love you more than anything in this world, and will give it to you if you ask me.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow when Joe paused. “But?”

“But I will fall asleep on you if you try to have sex with me right now.” Joe said sincerely, and with regret in his eyes.

Nicky laughed, fondness overflowing from his heart at his ridiculous fool.

“I will do my best not to have sex with you now then.”

Joe let out a mournful whine which just made Nicky laugh harder. It seemed to increase in volume when he stepped away from the reach of Joe’s outstretched hands.

“Oh you will survive Joe.” Nicky said as he walked over to their dresser. He hummed as he sorted through the contents of the drawer until he found the bottle he was looking for.

Opening it, he inhaled deeply, a content smile forming as the soothing scent of sandalwood and rose oil rose to greet him. Turning around, Nicky snorted at the sight. Joe was leaning back on the bed, body weight resting on his elbows as his head tipped back. The line of this throat called to Nicky.

Moving towards him, Nicky placed the oil on the bedside table. He then gently pushed at Joe’s shoulders, the gentle shove enough to send Joe falling fully against the mattress. Carefully, Nicky threw a leg across Joe’s lap, hands running over his chest before they paused at the topmost button of his shirt.

“I thought you said we weren’t having sex.” Joe pouted at him, hands coming up instinctively to rest at Nicky’s hips, their warmth seeping through the thin cotton t-shirt Nicky had on. He sometimes wondered if it would be possible for skin to indent from the constant press of something against it, like water cutting its way through a rock, or a leaf falling in wet cement. Wondered if at a microscopic level, his skin would be marked by the whorls of Joe’s fingertips.

“We aren’t.” Nicky said as he unbuttoned Joe’s shirt. He paused when it was fully open, lightly running his fingers across the length of the toned chest he could recall from memory.

In the later afternoon light, Joe was painted golden, and Nicky went dizzy with the wave of want that suddenly washed over him. So long together, and yet Joe made him burn hotter than anything else he had ever known.

Joe was his miracle, more than his immortality, a miracle in the shape of a man who had found it in him to not only forgive a man who had committed unspeakable atrocities against his people, but to love him so deeply, Nicky could feel it in his bones. The sun rose from the east, the Mediterranean was home, Joe loved him.

Joe let out a little giggle when Nicky’s fingers caressed his sides, a ticklish spot Nicky was not afraid to exploit when he needed it. That wasn’t what this was about though. Joe did not need a tease. He deserved a reward.

Humming in apology, Nicky set about stripping Joe down and manipulating him until he was laying at the center of the bed on his stomach, naked. Joe for his part let Nicky shift him to his heart’s content, settling heavily into the mattress.

After arranging him comfortably, Nicky straddled the back of Joe’s thighs, armed with the bottle of massage oil. Pouring a handful out, he closed it tightly before wringing his hands, making sure to oil them thoroughly. He placed his hands on Joe’s shoulders, thumbs settling near the start of Joe’s spine while his other fingers curled around the meat of Joe’s shoulders. He squeezed tightly, pushing his weight into it as he worked to relieve the knots he could feel underneath his hands.

Joe started moaning, a deep and heavy sound that Nicky tried to tune out lest they distract him.

Here were Joe’s shoulders, that had once slung an injured soldier across them, a child who had come to frontlines in the name of patriotism. He had trekked through the trenches till he’d delivered him to a field hospital.

Here were his arms, corded with muscles honed through fighting with scimitar and broadsword and gun, but also honed with the manual labor of tilling fields and repairing houses.

And here, his forearms, his wrists, his hands. Long fingers capable of creating masterpieces that could rival the artistic geniuses of the past centuries.

His strong back, his spine, which bent but never broke, that never stayed down for long. That did not bow in the face of injustice, and willingly took punishment to spare an innocent the scars that would not mar his skin for long.

His hips, which had seated countless kids when they had downtime during rescue missions, a throne and a safety cushion from which they could learn the old names of the constellations, and about seeing the beauty even in the war-torn landscape.

His ass, which Nicky would truly never get enough of.

Further down, his thighs, his calves, hard from decades of walking, running, marching, criss-crossing Earth. Nile had attempted to do the math once, to see how many miles they had walked in their long lives, how many times had they theoretically circumnavigated the globe. The average person from the 21st century would walk 110,000 miles in a lifetime. She had despaired trying to figure out if she should combined Nicky and Joe’s steps or count them individually, and then given up entirely when faced with Andy’s history.

His feet, soft only because of their healing powers, feet that had carried him barefoot over every terrain, through grass and sand and snow and sea.

When Nicky reached back up to place a kiss on Joe’s neck, he heard Joe’s soft snores.

Smiling softly, he pressed another kiss to Joe’s cheek and got out of bed.

He returned to the kitchen, scrubbing the baking tray clean and leaving it to dry. He grabbed one of their disposable boxes and placed two pastries into it. Checking to make sure he was dressed decently, Nicky jogged down the steps of the house just as the busker was placing his guitar back in his case.

“Lorenzo!” Nicky called, signalling for him to wait up. Lorenzo blushed, and huh, maybe Joe wasn’t so far off with his theory the kid had a crush on Nicky. He gave him the box, Lorenzo accepting it with wide eyes.

Nicky shrugged and looked at his sweetly. “You should eat enough to have the strength to keep singing.”

Lorenzo grinned and nodded before waving bye to him. Nicky watched until the kid had boarded the bus before making his way back home. Just before entering, he purchased a handful of dahlias from the flower vendor.

Joe had shifted to his back when Nicky re-entered their bedroom, his arm slung over his stomach, fingers twitching as though they were searching for something. Nicky placed the flowers with the vase by the bedside table so Joe would see them when he woke up.

Walking one last time around the house to make sure everything was locked up, Nicky removed his own t-shirt and pants so he was in just his underwear. He folded the clothes neatly and placed them on top of the laundry hamper before he crawled into bed. Gently lifting Joe’s arm, Nicky settled on top of Joe’s chest, ears filling with the sound of Joe’s heartbeat.

A subtle hitch in Joe’s breath and the tightening of the arm around him alerted Nicky to his husband’s wakeful status.

“Thank you for the wonderful massage, cuore mio.” Joe breathed softly.

Nicky turned and nuzzled into his side, making him let out a laughing gasp. “Anytime, vita mia.”

Joe drifted back to sleep within a few breaths. Nicky laid awake for some more time.

Nearly a thousand years he had been by Joe’s side, had had the permission to touch him like lovers do. And yet the thrill of it was always present, the gift never unappreciated.

He did not know whether or not he would ever atone for all the sins he committed over his long life, and at this point he did not much care. The only person who’s opinion mattered to him was right here.

Joe, who had seen first hand what Nicky had done. Joe, who had been killed by his hands. Who had killed him his fair share of times. Who had allowed him to stumble his way but never left him. Who had heard every secret fantasy and dream and fear Nicky had thought of, and promised to guard them. Joe who had been with him for every adventure and story this crazy life threw their way.

Joe who spent their vacation helping with renovations at an orphanage.

And here, bare between them, this was Nicky’s reward. Call him selfish, Nicky would share a lot with the world, but this was his. This love, this trust. This life.

Joe was his. His love. His territory. His sanctuary. His to keep.

#my fic #my writing #the old guard #tog #the old guard fic #tog fic #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #kaysanova #let me know what you think!

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createandconstruct · 4 years ago

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Wait, Garland

So. I started this reply, worked on it for two hours, and then moved my window and tumblr eviscerated most of it. Safe to say after that I had to mourn what I lost for a bit. I hope I can channel my original thoughts and words! Maybe it’ll be even better? We’ll see!

Anyway let’s talk about the wrinkly genome himself. Buckle up this one’s a doozy (enjoy some required reading music that fits the man of the hour).

favorite thing about them:

His design. This all knowing watchful eye of Terra is as lifeless as he is old. His eyes are blank and empty. His face is withered. His body, without the imposing cape, is like an emancipated black skeleton, where at its center lies the only light and color of Garland’s entire form. He is entirely black and white, except for the red glowing sphere at his center. At first look when I saw it I felt that it’s very much a metaphor for the role designated to him by the Terrans. In Garland’s chest lies the red glow of Terra, the exposed ribs of his black, armorlike chest, keep it within - protecting and hiding it from the outside world of Gaia. Until the time is right. Garland is nothing more than what the Terrans made him to be. An eternal servant that takes every breath for the protection of Terra as that is the reason he was given for living. Every inch of his body was designed for such purpose. Its only right he was designed to aware like a living cage, protecting that last flickers of Terra and its souls that lie within.

On that note let’s look at his design another way. Terra’s revival is Garland’s only reason for living. Zidane questions Garland’s own wants and desires to which he can only claim they are the restoration of Terra and its souls. He has nothing except the words he was fed by the Terrans millennia ago. Garland is the true hollow shell of a man you find in the remains of Terra. He is worn, withered, and ancient. He has lived so long for one reason only, a reason that was never even his own. The light of Terra - the light of the selfish, arrogant, and greedy souls of Terra - are stuck within his opened chest, powering him like an exposed heart or soul. Terra is his power source. Garland cannot rest. He was not created to rest. He was created to follow the reasons the Terrans gave him for his existence. (I exist only to kill) Garland exists and has existed unable to find his own reason for living - Terra’s forever trapped within him. A constant reminder. On the outside, Garland has withered away through his taste of eternity, while Terra’s light has remained strong within him, still forcing, powering, and pulling him forward to the ultimate goal. Perhaps that’s why Garland is only able to voice his own thoughts in death (even calling their failures towards their planet arrogant, and reflecting positively on his chance at existence despite his purpose), after the light of Terra inside him has finally gone out and he is beyond his creators’ reach.

Though, my final, and favorite, interpretation of his design begs a question… are there truly even any Terrans left? Memories and experiences make the soul, FFIX tells us. Garland cannot take Zidane’s soul from him as his soul is no longer the power source Garland gifted him. It is the laughter, tears, and memories Zidane shared with his loved ones on Gaia. Zidane is of Gaia. He is Gaian. So then who is Terran? The genomes, even Kuja, are not of Terra. Not the true Terra, anyway. The Terra the sleeping souls tried to preserve in the face of mortality and the wasting away that comes with time. The people we see are from the planet’s remains. The true Terrans are those who know the history, who know the culture, who lived and walked and experienced the planet when it was its own, and not a parasite latched inside another. The genomes know nothing of these things. If we call them “Terrans” it’s only because they were created on the fragments that were left inside of Gaia. In reality the Genomes were finally born on Gaia, once they began to experience - began to create memories of their own. There’s a reason Terra’s water does no flow. The world we visit within Gaia is just a frozen memory of a long dead planet.

And when those sleeping souls of Terra... when they finally arise will they even be Terran? They will have no memories of the planet or crystal where they originally cycled. Even if Gaia was assimilated, they will have bodies born on the planet of Gaia, where only remains of Terra lie, from the failed merging of the crystals. Even if the crystal of Gaia turns red the memories of these new “Terrans” will be of their new planet. They will essentially be Gaian and will likely consider themselves so as there is no plan to pass down memories to these new people from Garland. Garland is restoring the Terran souls into a new cycle, as if trying to return things to how they were before Terra’s death. It’s like a child trying to get a deceased loved one to play or react to them like they always do, not understanding things will never be like that again. Garland can never truly restore Terra or the Terrans to the they were. Those people, the original Terrans, even if their souls remain, have been lost to death and time. Perhaps their memories could have been passed on much like Vivi’s at the end of the game but because they were so desperate to ensure that their “superior” life, history, culture, and race endured forever, they lost the chance to truly persevere such things by passing it down to others in the present for the future. Instead such things were lost when they tried to allow themselves to endure by erasing the life from another planet.

All this is to say that, the only true Terrans are those who hold one of their souls, who know the history, and the culture and the only such person who exists, is Garland. He is the last true Terran. The remains of Terra have been cast with the blue of Gaia’s light. The Terra we see, that we visit? That’s not Terra. Terra is gone. Only one of its people remains. And the tragedy is that while Garland says his goal is to restore Terra, he’s going about it in the wrong way. In reality, Garland, an almost immortal being, who carries the last true light of Terra within himself, always had the means to truly preserve Terra and its people’s memories: by simply sharing them with the future. Instead, the Terrans doomed Garland and their planet with their plans of grandeur and eternity. A doomed fate that follows all who attempt to escape death. Which is why it is perhaps so appropriate that when Kuja destroys the remains of Terra within Gaia it is only fitting that Garland has died along with them too.

least favorite thing about them:

Like Kuja, as an antagonist, there’s a lot to dislike about Garland, but that’s intentional. He’s a good villain, I like him. I rather mention something that kinda annoys me writing wise? Not even annoying, just something that gave me a raised brow the first time I played the game and now gives me a headache the more I think about it: Omnipresent Garland voice.

Now Garland speaking to Zidane in Memoria I can deal with. It can make sense, even though it’s not explained. He’s a timeless being who existed before the current civilization on Gaia began. You could argue through his soul experimentation and millennia existence he has found a way to keep a level of consciousness as his own soul travels to the crystal. We know the cycle of souls is slower due to the manipulation of the crystal by Garland so it makes sense his souls is traveling slowly in the cycle towards the crystal after his death, allowing him to find Zidane and chat. Its also an interesting parallel of Zidane and co. traveling through Memoria, deeper into the crystal, while Garland’s souls travels too. Memoria is almost like Garland’s 5000 year life flashing before his eyes. Until he eventually reaches the end. The void of space. Perhaps the void of death. It’s the place his voice finally leaves Zidane. Is Garland’s voice disappearing into that void an indication of him stuck in a purgatory like state? Never return to a crystal? Or perhaps that void is the end of himself (of his consciousness), as we know him, but his soul continues on like Zidane and the others do as he is accepted into the cycle of Gaia’s Crystal? Whatever the case I can deal with Garland’s bodiless voice in the end game. I like it honestly.

What bothers me a bit is Garland’s voice appearing right after Kuja kicks him off the cliff. I get it. Kuja has to feel on top of the world before he spirals and crashes. He finishes off Garland and gets to dance about in victorious glee only before Garland’s voice resounds in everyone’s heads. His presence still lingering even after death to inform Kuja of his own impending fate. But it’s still a little jarring when it happens the first time you play it. Garland falls to his death and then he’s telepathing through the force. There’s a moment of “wait he’s alive?” then “wait he’s not” and then “how’s he doing this?” It can take you out of the scene which should very much be about Kuja. This is very much a nitpick and something that can be explained away because of Garland’s character and capabilities but whenever I play I’m like oh here comes ghost Garland. Though maybe it’s better to think that Garland actually did survive the fall and as he lies dying in the abyss beneath Pandemonium, with his remaining strength, he speaks to Kuja and others in the same way Kuja speaks to Mikoto and Zidane at the end of the game. Yeah I like that. Seems I fixed my own gripe. And now the essays are over and we can get to the fun stuff.

favorite line: I have some favorite villain lines of Garland and some favorite sentimental post-Mufasa’d-Garland lines. We’ll start with villain: "Forget all that. You are destined to live among the stars for all eternity.” I love this line, it’s kinda haunting that this is not just Garland’s motive but the motive of the Terrans. I then love Zidane’s retort. Their whole back and forth is just William Shatner Shakespeare drama father vs very angry teenage theater kid son. Number 2: "Don't you know what it means to meet your maker?" Something about this line real hits home the clashing between Zidane and Garland in Pandemonium. It always stood out to me, especially the first time I played. It’s the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Garland. He is Zidane’s creator who was so ready to erase him with barely a snap of his fingers. As for sentimental lines, I’m predictable: “Zidane… take care of Kuja.” and “Even if I were created to serve one purpose alone, I do not regret being born to this world." Shout out to - despite my earlier ravings - Garland’s narration over the scenes in Memoria. When you encounter each memory and then get the fade to black with his objective description, it’s like the souls who have experienced each memory I talking through him. Both Terran and Gaian.

brOTP: Garland has no bros. He has no friends. Though I would have liked to see Mikoto and Garland interact. I wonder what her feelings were towards him as she was his third project, a last resort, who would easily be replaced if she went wrong in the same way Zidane replaced Kuja, and she replaced Zidane.

OTP: Garland x the eternal sleep

nOTP: Do people even ship Garland with anyone

random headcanon: I always thought that after Garland attempted to steal Zidane's soul he carried him in his arms to inside of Pandemonium and placed him in that chair. It felt disturbing and poetic to me. This idea that when Zidane is at his most vulnerable - his soul literally being pulled from his flesh - Garland, his creator, carries him away like a father would a son. Yet Garland brings Zidane to the deepest part of Pandemonium to place him on a throne where he’ll sit alone, as everything that makes Zidane, Zidane, slowly slips away. A creator - a father in some sense - drops his son into solitude never expecting Zidane’s true family to come through, reigniting Zidane’s very soul. Perhaps at that point when they come to face him, Garland already had an inclination he’d lose.

unpopular opinion: Not sure I have an unpopular one? Something I realized though is Kuja’s purple/silver/white hair may very well be his natural color as it matches Garland’s hair. I’d like to think that Kuja, as Garland’s first unique, soul-filled genome, was created in Garland’s image. Garlands also a great villain who is built up well by the entire game and he does not come out of nowhere. That may be a hot take for the non-ffix appreciators

song i associate with them: Copied City by Keigo Hoashi and of course, Toccata and Fugue in D Minor (though this piece also has a distinctly dramatic Kuja vibe as well). If Garland got his own unique boss theme I’d imagine it being something dramatically played on the organ. Though nothing fits Garland like and Mourning by Keiichi Okabe. This piece is just incredible in general but it's insanely powerful and well, mournful. (And you KNOW WHAT I just found the ARRANGED piece of mourning and hOLY ORGAN: Mourning Arranged by Sachiko Miyano. I am now adding it as required reading music for this post.)

favorite picture of them: This piece by @spoonybart is haunting. The colors and lighting form the center glow of Garland’s chest really give him the other worldly and imposing presence he has in game.

Also this art by @oeilvert Literally so incredible. It is ingrained in my experience of playing FFIX for the first time. When I got to Terra and experienced Pandemonium for the first time I went searching for art that captured my feelings and found this piece. It is perfect.

And then there’s this piece by もりもり on pixiv. I found it and can’t stop thinking about it. Absolutely incredible. It makes me wheeze whenever I see it. Garterbelt Garland. Amazing 100/10 everyone else go home.

#asks #werareallkujaandkadajstans #ffix #final fantasy ix #garland #garland ffix #final fantasy 9 #kuja #zidane tribal #feel free to send me whatever characters ya'll i will continue my essay writing #you're also now legally obligated to go give love to all that art and the artists #if you don't your soul won't cycle

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8unnieswrld · 5 years ago

Text

5 more minutes (Johnny Suh x Reader)

Word count: 1.8k

Requests: “Kiss me again” + “lol why u so short?”

Warnings: none shit is so cute

A/N: im literally so stupid i posted this but messed up in structure so i deleted it and took a week to redo it

You could feel a soft vibration coming from under your back as it shocks you from your sleep. The noise causes your heart to race as you roll over to reach for your phone. You couldn't even possibly begin to think who would be calling you, first thing in the morning. Nevertheless, silently cursing at them while thrashing your legs about angrily.

“Hello?” You grumble, head thumping as you roll over, placing your phone to your ear as you close your eyes once again.

“Y/N where are you? It's been 30 minutes and I-” You heard your boyfriend speak from the other side of the line, the background buzzing with chatter and laughter. Going silent you realise what Johnny was talking about.

You almost screamed at yourself when your eyes shot open, checking the time on your phone. You felt like you could just about kick yourself in the face right now as the large numbers stare you in the face.

11:30am

The ‘punch in the gut’ numbers haunt you as you roll out of bed running towards the bathroom, as best you could.

“Ha ha ha ha ha, the bus was late! Just uh- Let everyone eat first!” You laugh awkwardly. Tumbling into the bathroom, you flinch as the cold tiles touch your warm feet.

“You just woke up, didn't you?” Johnny sighs, chuckling a bit.

“I'm sorry! I set my alarm for 9:30 p.m. instead of a.m.! Tell the boys to start eating and i'll just order later!” You apologize while turning the faucet on the highest setting due to sheer panic, the abrupt action causing water to splash onto your phone, muffling Johnny’s laughter.

“It’s okay, I could have come and picked you up if you weren't so stubborn. I’ll come pick-” Johnny suggested before you cut him off, yelling.

“No! Babe, please eat first!”

You hear Johnny excuse himself from his bandmates at the table, explaining to them why he was leaving momentarily, causing them to all laugh and coo at you through the phone.

“I'll see you in a bit babe~” Johnny sings, before making kissy noises to the phone and hanging up.

Fuck.

You could not even believe the sheer idiocracy that you felt wrapping around your body as you stared into the mirror, a reflection haunting you.

“You’re so fucking stupid Y/N, you know?” You groan, smacking yourself on the head before violently turning on the faucet, yet again. Brushing your teeth and washing your face felt like a blip as you were running out of the bathroom, immediately towards your ‘I like to keep them in view because they’re pretty’ clothes rack to look for an outfit. Instinctively, you pause for a second to play music before picking your outfit. One that’s comfy enough to wear for a brunch but not too restraining on the stomach. As you were changing in your room you hear Johnny’s car pull up from outside, honking as if he wanted you to be dressed and ready to go when he arrived. You choose to ignore his signal, telling yourself that no one in their right mind could get ready that quickly. Pulling a dress over your head, you hear Johnny begin honking impatiently.

“Fucking hell.” You mumble, frustrated as you stomp towards the window, pulling it open to yell at him at the top of your lungs.

“I'M NOT READY!” You scream, poking your head out of the window slightly. Johnny laughs at this, amused as if you weren't almost an hour late to his best friend's insane engagement brunch. You reach behind your back, struggling to pull up the dress’ zipper. Fast paced footsteps carrying you to the mirror, rapidly spinning to see any potential issue. The sound of the front door closing causes you to flinch, even though you knew it was Johnny. You jiggle the zipper even faster trying to get it up before he walks in. You didn't even know why you wanted the dress up so quickly before he walked in, it's not like he had never seen you naked before, but right now you felt embarrassed and didn't even want to hear a word of it from Johnny. Frustrated, you scream in anger throwing yourself onto the floor in defeat while the non-compliant dress bundles at your feet. Johnny rushes towards your bedroom at the sound of the scream, quickly throwing the door open out of worry. The sight of you sitting in the middle of your room, pink silk dress bundled around you, hair messed up and half wet from washing your face, quickly dismisses his worried thoughts. Johnny could feel his heart soften, cherishing this simple moment in his mind as he smiles, walking over to you before placing you on your feet and zipping up the back of your dress.

Johnny’s hands felt cold on your warm flushed skin, hot from a mixture of anger, embarrassment and adrenaline. You look at him through the mirror, silently staring at him as he brushes your hair, not saying a single word. You had expected him to come in, laughing at you for setting your alarm wrong but I guess he could read your utter distress enough for him to stay silent, understanding. With one swift movement you turn around, hooking your arms around his torso, leaning into him with your face squished against his chest.

“Y/N it’s alright, no one is going to care.” Johnny comforted, stroking your head. You didn't reply, only getting up to walk towards your vanity which held all your makeup. Johnny opens your closet, grabbing a cardigan and an undershirt knowing how cruel the cold weather was to your health. He sits on the edge of your bed, close enough to feel heat radiate from you as he watches you apply makeup to your face. He decides to braid a strand of your hair to pass the time. One strand multiplied into two which then turned into 3. Johnny shuffles a bit, the fabric of his puffer jacket chafing together and creating sounds that faded into the music that continued to play. He pulls out his phone, sneakily taking a picture of you.

“Alright, I'm finished!” You announced, getting up from your seat to turn and look at your boyfriend. He smiles at you before handing you a black turtleneck to wear under your dress.

“You’ll get sick if you don't wear this.”

You roll your eyes, turning around as Johnny unzips your dress. Once you have shifted the straps of your dress off of your arms, Johnny places the turtleneck over your head, allowing you to pull it down and tuck it inside the dress before flattening out the layered material.

“Let's take a picture, we’re matching!” You laugh, finally paying attention to his outfit. Johnny was wearing a dusty pink button up shirt layered with a similar black turtleneck and a jacket. His outfit made you smile, realising that you had both unintentionally coordinated your outfits without communication. You stood in front of your wardrobe mirror, pulling out your phone as you pose awkwardly before Johnny stands next to you. His calming presence causes you to become more relaxed as you pose with him. You both took a couple photos, before you began to pose playfully with one another, completely unaware of the passing time. Johnny picks you up slightly which causes you to laugh as he takes more pictures. You cup his face in your hands as you giggle, staring at him full of love, quickly giving him an unexpected kiss. Johnny drops his phone, eyes wide as you smile, placing a kiss on his lips. He goes in for another before your eyes widen, seeing the time on the wall staring back at you like it had moments before on your phone.

“Johnny! Put me down we’re so late!” You squeal, kicking as you slide yourself off him, grabbing your belongings and his car keys. Johnny feels frustration build up in his chest as he whines playfully. He pulls you towards him once more as he huffs sitting down on your bed, kicking his feet like a child.

“Kiss me again Y/NNNNN~” Johnny whines, looking you in the eyes as he kicks his feet even more.

“Johnny we gotta go, we’re already so late.”

He pouts, eyebrows furrowing as he refuses to move, crossing his arms and puckering his lips. “Kisses. Now.” He demands, keeping up his childish demeanor.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you move towards him, causing him to happily stand up and pucker his lips again, eyes closed and all.

A frown creeps onto your face. Who in the world would be unable to remember the difference in height between you two?

“Johnny... I literally cannot reach.” You announce, pushing his shoulders down as he laughs.

“Lol, why you so short?” He teases, causing you to hit his chest playfully to which he responded overdramatically by gripping his heart in “pain.” Apologizing, he bends down a bit till his face is just above eye level with you.

“Come on, I'm waiting~” He sings happily moving his body from side to side. You sigh, rolling your eyes playfully as you cup his face giving him repetitive pecks on the lips. He smiles into the kisses grabbing you by the waist as he pulls you both down, falling on the bed with a physical ‘oomf’. You laugh, but quickly turn to scold him for the sudden action.

“Johnny, we are literally so late! Jaehyun is going to be so upset!” You squeal, pushing his chest in an attempt to get up. Johnny barely moves, only nuzzling his head on top of yours. After repeatedly trying to escape and failing you sigh. Giving into his cuddling, you wrap your arms around his torso.

“Just 5 minutes Y/N. I barely see you.” He pleads, a more serious tone escaping his lips.

You bite your lip in guilt as you knew how far you and Johnny lived apart from one another, due to the fact you both attended different universities.

“Fine…” You mumble, placing a kiss onto his neck, the only place you could reach due to Johnny’s sheer strength and height. Laying in silence you could hear Johnny’s steadying heart beat rhythmically in your ear as you traced circles on his back. The silence was soon interrupted with Johnny’s phone ringing, sending waves of vibration over the entire bed. Johnny picks it up, placing it on his ear as he rolls over again to continue hugging you.

“Hyung! Where the fuck are you?” You could hear Mark question over the phone. Johnny and you both stay silent, looking at each other, desperately searching for a reply.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Uh! Sorry Mark- Traffic’s real bad right now!” You panicked, getting up from the bed while silently motioning Johnny to do the same.

“Damn, the traffic’s that bad right now?” Mark laughs, causing you to facepalm in disbelief that he really believed the lie. “Alright...See you soon!” He greets before hanging up the phone.

“He is so stupid.”

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islamicrays · 5 years ago

Text

I found this useful.............💗Advice from a psychologist:

After having thirty-one sessions this week with patients where the singular focus was COVID-19 and how to cope, I decided to consolidate my advice and make a list that I hope is helpful to all. I can't control a lot of what is going on right now, but I can contribute this.

Edit: I am surprised and heartened that this has been shared so widely! People have asked me to credential myself, so to that end, I am a doctoral level Psychologist in NYS with a Psy.D. in the specialities of School and Clinical Psychology.

MENTAL HEALTH WELLNESS TIPS FOR QUARANTINE

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

2. Dress for the social life you want, not the social life you have. Get showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, wash your face, brush your teeth. Take the time to do a bath or a facial. Put on some bright colors. It is amazing how our dress can impact our mood.

3. Get out at least once a day, for at least thirty minutes. If you are concerned of contact, try first thing in the morning, or later in the evening, and try less traveled streets and avenues. If you are high risk or living with those who are high risk, open the windows and blast the fan. It is amazing how much fresh air can do for spirits.

4. Find some time to move each day, again daily for at least thirty minutes. If you don’t feel comfortable going outside, there are many YouTube videos that offer free movement classes, and if all else fails, turn on the music and have a dance party!

5. Reach out to others, you guessed it, at least once daily for thirty minutes. Try to do FaceTime, Skype, phone calls, texting—connect with other people to seek and provide support. Don’t forget to do this for your children as well. Set up virtual playdates with friends daily via FaceTime, Facebook Messenger Kids, Zoom, etc—your kids miss their friends, too!

6. Stay hydrated and eat well. This one may seem obvious, but stress and eating often don’t mix well, and we find ourselves over-indulging, forgetting to eat, and avoiding food. Drink plenty of water, eat some good and nutritious foods, and challenge yourself to learn how to cook something new!

7. Develop a self-care toolkit. This can look different for everyone. A lot of successful self-care strategies involve a sensory component (seven senses: touch, taste, sight, hearing, smell, vestibular (movement) and proprioceptive (comforting pressure). An idea for each: a soft blanket or stuffed animal, a hot chocolate, photos of vacations, comforting music, lavender or eucalyptus oil, a small swing or rocking chair, a weighted blanket. A journal, an inspirational book, or a mandala coloring book is wonderful, bubbles to blow or blowing watercolor on paper through a straw are visually appealing as well as work on controlled breath. Mint gum, Listerine strips, ginger ale, frozen Starburst, ice packs, and cold are also good for anxiety regulation. For children, it is great to help them create a self-regulation comfort box (often a shoe-box or bin they can decorate) that they can use on the ready for first-aid when overwhelmed.

8. Spend extra time playing with children. Children will rarely communicate how they are feeling, but will often make a bid for attention and communication through play. Don’t be surprised to see therapeutic themes of illness, doctor visits, and isolation play through. Understand that play is cathartic and helpful for children—it is how they process their world and problem solve, and there’s a lot they are seeing and experiencing in the now.

9. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and a wide berth. A lot of cooped up time can bring out the worst in everyone. Each person will have moments when they will not be at their best. It is important to move with grace through blowups, to not show up to every argument you are invited to, and to not hold grudges and continue disagreements. Everyone is doing the best they can to make it through this.

10. Everyone find their own retreat space. Space is at a premium, particularly with city living. It is important that people think through their own separate space for work and for relaxation. For children, help them identify a place where they can go to retreat when stressed. You can make this place cozy by using blankets, pillows, cushions, scarves, beanbags, tents, and “forts”. It is good to know that even when we are on top of each other, we have our own special place to go to be alone.

11. Expect behavioral issues in children, and respond gently. We are all struggling with disruption in routine, none more than children, who rely on routines constructed by others to make them feel safe and to know what comes next. Expect increased anxiety, worries and fears, nightmares, difficulty separating or sleeping, testing limits, and meltdowns. Do not introduce major behavioral plans or consequences at this time—hold stable and focus on emotional connection.

12. Focus on safety and attachment. We are going to be living for a bit with the unprecedented demand of meeting all work deadlines, homeschooling children, running a sterile household, and making a whole lot of entertainment in confinement. We can get wrapped up in meeting expectations in all domains, but we must remember that these are scary and unpredictable times for children. Focus on strengthening the connection through time spent following their lead, through physical touch, through play, through therapeutic books, and via verbal reassurances that you will be there for them in this time.

13. Lower expectations and practice radical self-acceptance. This idea is connected with #12. We are doing too many things in this moment, under fear and stress. This does not make a formula for excellence. Instead, give yourself what psychologists call “radical self acceptance”: accepting everything about yourself, your current situation, and your life without question, blame, or pushback. You cannot fail at this—there is no roadmap, no precedent for this, and we are all truly doing the best we can in an impossible situation.

14. Limit social media and COVID conversation, especially around children. One can find tons of information on COVID-19 to consume, and it changes minute to minute. The information is often sensationalized, negatively skewed, and alarmist. Find a few trusted sources that you can check in with consistently, limit it to a few times a day, and set a time limit for yourself on how much you consume (again 30 minutes tops, 2-3 times daily). Keep news and alarming conversations out of earshot from children—they see and hear everything, and can become very frightened by what they hear.

15. Notice the good in the world, the helpers. There is a lot of scary, negative, and overwhelming information to take in regarding this pandemic. There are also a ton of stories of people sacrificing, donating, and supporting one another in miraculous ways. It is important to counter-balance the heavy information with the hopeful information.

16. Help others. Find ways, big and small, to give back to others. Support restaurants, offer to grocery shop, check in with elderly neighbors, write psychological wellness tips for others—helping others gives us a sense of agency when things seem out of control.

17. Find something you can control, and control the heck out of it. In moments of big uncertainty and overwhelm, control your little corner of the world. Organize your bookshelf, purge your closet, put together that furniture, group your toys. It helps to anchor and ground us when the bigger things are chaotic.

18. Find a long-term project to dive into. Now is the time to learn how to play the keyboard, put together a huge jigsaw puzzle, start a 15 hour game of Risk, paint a picture, read the Harry Potter series, binge watch an 8-season show, crochet a blanket, solve a Rubix cube, or develop a new town in Animal Crossing. Find something that will keep you busy, distracted, and engaged to take breaks from what is going on in the outside world.

19. Engage in repetitive movements and left-right movements. Research has shown that repetitive movement (knitting, coloring, painting, clay sculpting, jump roping etc) especially left-right movement (running, drumming, skating, hopping) can be effective at self-soothing and maintaining self-regulation in moments of distress.

20. Find an expressive art and go for it. Our emotional brain is very receptive to the creative arts, and it is a direct portal for release of feeling. Find something that is creative (sculpting, drawing, dancing, music, singing, playing) and give it your all. See how relieved you can feel. It is a very effective way of helping kids to emote and communicate as well!

21. Find lightness and humor in each day. There is a lot to be worried about, and with good reason. Counterbalance this heaviness with something funny each day: cat videos on YouTube, a stand-up show on Netflix, a funny movie—we all need a little comedic relief in our day, every day.

22. Reach out for help—your team is there for you. If you have a therapist or psychiatrist, they are available to you, even at a distance. Keep up your medications and your therapy sessions the best you can. If you are having difficulty coping, seek out help for the first time. There are mental health people on the ready to help you through this crisis. Your children’s teachers and related service providers will do anything within their power to help, especially for those parents tasked with the difficult task of being a whole treatment team to their child with special challenges. Seek support groups of fellow home-schoolers, parents, and neighbors to feel connected. There is help and support out there, any time of the day—although we are physically distant, we can always connect virtually.

23. “Chunk” your quarantine, take it moment by moment. We have no road map for this. We don’t know what this will look like in 1 day, 1 week, or 1 month from now. Often, when I work with patients who have anxiety around overwhelming issues, I suggest that they engage in a strategy called “chunking”—focusing on whatever bite-sized piece of a challenge that feels manageable. Whether that be 5 minutes, a day, or a week at a time—find what feels doable for you, and set a time stamp for how far ahead in the future you will let yourself worry. Take each chunk one at a time, and move through stress in pieces.

24. Remind yourself daily that this is temporary. It seems in the midst of this quarantine that it will never end. It is terrifying to think of the road stretching ahead of us. Please take time to remind yourself that although this is very scary and difficult, and will go on for an undetermined amount of time, it is a season of life and it will pass. We will return to feeing free, safe, busy, and connected in the days ahead.

25. Find the lesson. This whole crisis can seem sad, senseless, and at times, avoidable. When psychologists work with trauma, a key feature to helping someone work through said trauma is to help them find their agency, the potential positive outcomes they can effect, the meaning and construction that can come out of destruction. What can each of us learn here, in big and small ways, from this crisis? What needs to change in ourselves, our homes, our communities, our nation, and our world?

Source: Unknown

#pandemic #reminder #covid19 #muslim #self isolation

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c-ptsdrecovery · 5 years ago

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Mental Health Wellness Tips for Quarantine

From Facebook, written by Betsy Williams Briggs

[As an anxious person myself, please note: this is not a list of EVERYTHING YOU SHOULD BE DOING. Pick the things that will help you and let the others go! <3 ]

From a psychologist: After having thirty-one sessions this week with patients where the singular focus was COVID-19 and how to cope, I decided to consolidate my advice and make a list that I hope is helpful to all. I can't control a lot of what is going on right now, but I can contribute this.

MENTAL HEALTH WELLNESS TIPS FOR QUARANTINE

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

#coronavirus

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happyweddingblogs · 4 years ago

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12 Amazing Ideas for Intimate Wedding

Ever since the Coronavirus outbreak, intimate weddings have become new normal. While big fat weddings have their own allure, there is something truly unique about hosting an intimate wedding. Intimate weddings give you a lot of freedom and peace of mind. Not only do you save a lot of money, but also it reduces a lot of stress.

However, intimate doesn’t have to be bland and uninspiring. Your wedding should be a memorable celebration, irrespective of its size. Here in this post, we are sharing 12 amazing ideas for intimate weddings to get inspiration from. Have a look…..

1. Wedding in a Heritage-Rich Location

If you’re really inspired by Indian heritage and traditional Indian weddings, consider a heritage-rich location for your intimate wedding. Look for a heritage-rich location, such as an old palace with a fascinating history. You can even consider a historically significant temple for hosting your intimate wedding. It would be small in size but magnificent and superior in its own way.

2. Wedding in a Restaurant

How is the idea of getting hitched in the same restaurant or café where you had your first date? Have you ever thought of it? Well, with a limited number of guests to accommodate, that implausible fantasy can become a reality! While a traditional wedding has its own flavor, the sentiments associated with this location can make the occasion even more special and meaningful.

3. Garden Wedding

Have you ever thought of hosting a wedding in a Garden? Yes, a garden wedding! When it comes to outdoor weddings, there is no doubt that a garden is the best option. Garden weddings allow for an infinite number of ceremony and reception ideas. Nature can be the best backdrop for such a special occasion, whether you arrange your intimate wedding in your own or a friend’s garden or hire a garden-based venue. Garden weddings make for a whimsical and romantic wedding celebration, with lots of candles, natural scenery, and special seating areas.

4. Wedding in the Wilderness

When it’s an intimate wedding ceremony, you can go to any extent to celebrate it in style! If you’re mesmerized by the Wilderness, then a wedding in the wilderness is for you. There are numerous benefits to having a wilderness wedding that you cannot get from any other type. There are certain types of beauty on the planet that you simply have to walk to appreciate, and having a wedding at that location can be truly magical.

5. In-House Wedding

An in-house wedding is another idea for an intimate wedding. There are numerous advantages to hosting a wedding in the comfort of your own home: A sense of familiarity, indubitable charm and one-of-a-kind sentiment combine to create an original and noteworthy day. Invite your guests into a space that holds some of your most treasured memories as a child, adult, or both.

6. Terrace Wedding

If you wish to host an intimate wedding in style, then the terrace is a perfect location. In contrast to a banquet, which may feel claustrophobic to some, a terrace immediately conveys a grandiose feeling due to the open air and emptiness surrounding it. The place will feel more relaxed once you reach a higher level. Terrace venue on higher floors will allow you to make more noise at the party without disturbing too many people. Parties on the Terrace will bring your inspired celebrations to life!

7. Yacht Wedding

There is no better venue than a yacht for a nautical wedding. Your entire wedding can be held on board, saving you the trouble and expense of transporting your guests from the ceremony location to the reception. Everything, from the marriage ceremony on the top deck, followed by cocktail hour on the second deck to a sit-down dinner in an elegant, enclosed dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows, will make for a mesmerizing intimate wedding celebration.

A wedding in the midst of picturesque harbor, coastal, and skyline views is unquestionably a visual treat. Plus, you’ll have some fantastic wedding photos, and your guests will remember the panoramic ceremony backdrop for a long time.

8. Virtual Wedding

Weddings in India are known for being “big, fat, and grand.” But this was before Covid. Weddings are becoming leaner as a result of the pandemic’s mandated safety and social distancing norms, with no more than 50 guests physically present. In these times, digital weddings, in which a priest, the couple, and the guests are all connected via video or phone call, have emerged as a viable alternative to the traditional ceremony.

A virtual wedding includes video calling, e-invites, etc. It’s a situation in which you are physically separated but participate in the festivities together. A virtual substitute replaces almost everything that happens at weddings on-site.

9. Luxury Safari Wedding

Whether you want an intimate destination wedding for just the two of you or want to celebrate your BIG day with close friends and family, a luxury Safari wedding is an excellent choice. It’s difficult to imagine a more romantic setting to say “I do” than a romantic safari.

10. Bohemian Theme Wedding

Boho style has a way of looking incredibly chic while requiring minimal effort. The décor is simple but eye-catching and mesmerizing. Transform a traditional reception into a bohemian wedding with earthy details, organic linens for tablecloths and napkins, and different kinds of floral centerpieces and greenery installations.

11. Backyard Wedding

Nothing can beat a backyard wedding! They are intimate, convenient, and, most importantly, often a low-cost venue. There are countless backyard wedding ideas to make it into whatever you want it to be. There is, after all, no place like home—the coolest thing about hosting a backyard wedding is that you have the freedom to get creative. You can get as creative as you want to transform an empty and sprawling landscape into a stunning wedding venue.

12. Poolside Wedding

If you wish to have a ‘hatke’ wedding venue, then pull off a poolside wedding in a chic and elegant way. Make a pool your advantage for hosting a memorable intimate wedding. The venue décor is entirely up to you and your wedding style; most couples opt for neutrals, white, and some sparkles, but if it’s a tropical affair, you can rock vibrant colors.

#intimate wedding #Small Wedding ideas #Wedding ideas in covid #wedding in pandemic #Intimate wedding ideas #wedding in covid-19 #intimate weddings #garden wedding #virtual wedding #backyard weddings #poolside wedding #hotel wedding #in-house wedding #yacht wedding ideas #terrace weddings

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goldenchildcharms · 5 years ago

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Analysis of Golden Child’s “One Lucid Dream” with Inception (2010)

(Credits of images and gif go to their respective owners)

Dedicated to @mxgalgallery, @morelikedamni, and @tagtherapper for encouraging me to continue with my shenanigans.

Disclaimer: 100% bullsh*t and my stream of consciousness. Please give credit if you were to use any part of my analysis/theory. Please take a leap of faith (pun intended) with me through this.

When Golden Child’s teaser for their music video of their newest title track named “ONE (Lucid Dream)” came out, there was something very familiar about the scene where a building comes crashing down onto Jibeom. The dark, blue-gray tone colors of the shot and the desolate backdrop of the music teaser was very reminiscent of Christoper Nolan’s 2010 masterpiece called Inception -- more specifically, the wide angle shot of the limbo, a dreamspace where one can be trapped in. As the music video for ONE goes deeper, more parallels and similarities could be drawn between the movie and the video: from the motif of dreams, water, surrealism, and falling to the meaning behind both of these works. Through a few of the parallels presented, I will be explaining my theory and understanding of “ONE (Lucid Dream)” and the trilogy through the movie, and explaining why Golden Child’s story is based off of the world of Inception.

(Spoilers below. I would advise you to watch the movie before reading because the movie is truly a masterpiece. Also, this essay will make a LOT more sense)

So for those of you who have not yet watched Inception, I would highly recommend watching the movie first; however, as a quick summary, Cobb, the main character, and his partner Arthur are special “spies” where they perform espionages by getting into a person’s dream to steal important information from the person’s subconscious. The dreams that the two main characters infiltrate are lucid dreams because every participant in the dream has complete control over their own actions and know that they are dreaming — with the exception of the person that the espionage is being performed on. Dreams and dreaming is one of the main themes in the movie where the viewer is constantly challenged and questioned if the scene we are viewing is a dream or the reality.

To begin, the title of Golden Child's music video is “ONE (Lucid Dream)” and shows many scenes of the members lucid dreaming: from the never ending ladders to having a hole through the hand -- all very fantastical and very clear signs of lucid dreams. However, there were a few shots where we see Joochan admiring a rose stuck through his hands and cherishing it, yet the underlying reality is that he is in pain. Through this, we can infer that they do not know that what they are seeing is not reality, but a dream -- not unfamiliar with the participants of the dream or the people who end up in limbo. So, how did the members get to this point of lucid dreaming?

First part of my theory is that all of the Golden Child members, except for Bomin, are stuck in limbo.

Now let’s first take a step back and look at what limbo is in Inception. Limbo is a shared dream place where it is a world of, as stated by Arthur, “ just raw, infinite subconscious. Nothing is down there. Except for whatever that might have been left behind by whoever's sharing the dream who was trapped down there before.” As seen in the movie, limbo allows for endless dreaming, including impossible dreams. However, because of the lack of limitations, limbo allows the dreamer to create their deepest desires, but also at a cost where the dreamer will ultimately forget that limbo is not reality and the dreamer is trapped there.

In the trilogy, Bomin is the only one who is awake in the real world because in “Wannabe,” he is the only one who wakes up at the end of the music video while none of the members are present. He wakes up to an empty room. “Wannabe” is a metaphor of the dream of becoming the perfect person. In a shot in the middle of “Wannabe,” all of the members are asleep in the dream and in the same room. While Bomin is the only one who wakes up at the end of the video, the others continue to go reach for their perfect self in the dream, and through the process, the others fall through to limbo. We can see that in “Without You,” they fall to their deaths in the dream as shown by TAG, Joochan, and Sungyoon. This is parallel to Inception where when Saito dies in the dream, the place he ends up is limbo. The fact that everyone else is in limbo explains why Bomin is the only one who is doing things different from all the other members in the series itself.

Additionally, if we look at the dance scenes in “ONE (Lucid Dream),” the scenes where Sungyoon is running around in the middle of nowhere, and even the ending scenes with the building, it is clear that the place they are inhabiting is empty and decrepit. The colors, the desolation is similar to that of the limbo. It is clear that they are in the unconstructed dream space.

And because they are in limbo, they can ultimately become who they desire to be and have what they dream. The example I used above was Joochan. Joochan’s desire, like everyone else’s is to become the perfect being, and that manifests in a beautiful and perfect rose growing through his hand. He admires it dearly and seems to forget that he is, in reality, stuck in a dream. The dream is hurting and harming him more than he realizes and is trapped in limbo.

Lastly, if we look at Tag’s lines in the rap, he says something along the lines of how his reality feels like a dream, while the dream feels like reality. In Inception, we see the same thing happening to Mal, Cobb’s wife. She spent such a long time in limbo that she ultimately forgot that what she had was a dream and Cobb had to change her mind to get them out of limbo; however, that causes her to believe that reality was a dream and the dream was a reality. Through Tag’s line, we can conclude that they have been trapped in limbo for a while to the point that they cannot tell the difference between dream and reality.

I will very quickly go over one of the many prominent motifs that show up in both the “ONE (Lucid Dream)” and Inception before delving back into the theory. In the movie, Cobb describes falling into limbo as "washing up on the shore of their subconsciouses." When fallen into limbo they are on the shores of an untamed ocean like the subconscious in your mind, The ocean is often a symbolism for things that are vast and deep, yet unknown to the world, and in the movie, whenever the sea or water is present, there is always a feeling and sense of unknown that the viewers are about to discover. Similarly, in the music video, the ocean in the sky stands for the vast unknown and the member’s subconscious taking over. That they are lost in limbo and there are infinitely many things to discover in the world of dreams.

To continue on with the theory, because the members of Golden Child are currently stuck in limbo and have fully lost their grip on reality, Bomin is the one who has to go back into the dreamstate to convince the members that limbo is merely a dream. That is why we see Bomin falling through the sky and the water -- he is going back to wake the members. We also see that he is the only one who approaches the trees with ten butterflies on it, which we can infer that the butterflies are for each of the members who are in the dream world.

In the movie, to help distinguish the difference between dream and reality is an object called Totem. For Cobb, his Totem is a top. He can tell that he is in reality when the top is able to topple over. Now, I believe that in the case of the music video, the Totem is the butterfly. The butterfly is what lets the members know that they are actually stuck in limbo, and are not in reality and Bomin lets the members see the truth by dropping the butterfly into limbo. We can see this happening because once the members see the butterfly and come to their senses, we see that the dream becomes unstable and begins to fall apart -- just like how when a dream becomes unstable in the movie.

While we all know that Golden Child’s newest album name is called Take A Leap with the assumption that the title means starting something new and believing in yourself, I think that this motif contributes to the music video and series very well, and is a dominant theme in Inception. Now, interestingly, one of the most important quotes in Inception is "I'm asking you to take a leap of faith." This phrase is repeated three times over the course of the movie. The first time we hear this phrase in the movie is when Saito offers Cobb the job of Inception where he says to Cobb, “So do you want to take a Leap of Faith, or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone?” What Saito doesn’t know is that this phrase has been said to Cobb by Mal where we hear Mal say to Cobb before jumping from the hotel window, “I’m asking you to take a Leap of Faith.” What this phrase means in the movie is to trust one another and to move forward into the future together even if you may not know what will come of it. We hear this one last time towards the end of the film when both Cobb and Saito are stuck in limbo, and Cobb says to an old man Saito, “Yes, and to take a Leap of Faith.” This time, the phrase “taking a leap,” is also taken literally in the film where in order to come back to reality from the dream world is the act of falling, jumping, or -- literally -- taking a leap -- the movie calls this a kick. Additionally, in Inception, once you are in limbo, you can only die or jump from a tall building in order to come back to the real world. One prime example of this is towards the end of the movie where Ariadne and Fischer fall off the top of the building to get out of limbo and regain consciousness.

Also, In the movie, things that were happening in real life or in the dream level above reflected in the dream levels below, like when Cobb is dunked into water for a kick, we see that the setting of the dream that he was in was flooded with water, and similarly when the Inception team was in free fall in the dream level above, the dream level below experiences weightlessness and the lack of gravity. We also mainly see this when a kick happens. The butterfly, which I also described as a Totem, is also the kick for the members to go back into reality. When the butterfly is dropped, it appears in a member’s dream just like in the movie, signifying the butterfly is also the kick. In the music video at the end, we see the members -- more specifically -- Donghyun, TAG, and Jaehyun -- taking that leap off of the crumbling building to exit limbo. By doing this, they are literally taking a leap and also metaphorically all taking a chance together to regain the conscious and move forward into the future together.

TL;DR: Conclusion

To sum up my theory and wrap up loose ends, in “Wannabe,” the members enter the dream world to dream and hopefully become the better person; however, the only person who wakes up from the dream is Bomin. The rest of the members desire more, loses themselves, and falls through to limbo -- the state of infinite subconscious -- in “Without You.” In “ONE (Lucid Dream),” they are in limbo and Bomin goes back into the dreamstate to wake the rest of the members up. He does so by using the butterflies as a Totem and makes the members come to the realization that they are merely dreaming. Once the members realize that they are in limbo, the dream becomes unstable and begins to fall apart. At that moment, the members take a leap out of the crumbling building to regain reality and consciousness. The members are able to discover the conscious.

#gncd #golden child #golcha #I spent 4 whole days planning and writing this #yes this is how I got through AP Lit in high school LMAO #ik Golcha explained the mv on the live yesterday but their explanation was literally:#yes jangjun actually threw the chair even though the director didn't tell him to do that #Also this is just my analysis so... please don't come at me #but if you wanna talk about it I am willing #but also I am currently brain dead so my replies may take a few days

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kinetic-elaboration · 5 years ago

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August 29: Academy Spock

Well, well, well, what’s this? A new HAICG story. I’m gonna call it a story because it’s (somehow???) 1500 words. Don’t know how that happened lol. Will be up on AO3... sometime idk.

This is for @senseofenterprise who asked for Spock and Sevin in San Francisco, Starfleet Academy era.

The cafe down the street from Spock's apartment plays recorded Terran music during the day, and hosts live musical performances in the evening. Spock has been to three such concerts: one by himself, one with a group of second-year Cadets, and one, last weekend, with Cadet Lawrence. This last event he is still turning over, carefully considering, in the back of his mind. Cadet Lawrence is a human, blond and blue-eyed, with an easy, lop-sided smile. He's in the Engineering program, and his favorite topics of conversation are the latest developments in transporter technology, and the history of Federation space travel. Spock has seen history books mixed in among his textbooks, when they study together in the library, which they started doing only because they both enjoy the same room on the third floor. They both like to sit beneath the round window that always lets in a peculiar light, green-tinted as it streams through the leaves of the tree outside.

Another reason they study together is because Spock quite enjoys Cadet Lawrence’s company. Once, three days before the evening together at the cafe, Spock dedicated several hours to teaching Cadet Lawrence how to write simple phrases in Vulcan. His hand was so unsteady, Spock had to help him grip his stylus, to trace out the exact curls and circles of his native script. Only when he was done did he realize how closely they were sitting, and the unfamiliar, soft, human expression that had taken the place of Cadet Lawrence’s usual smile.

None of which is worth thinking about now. He has his Astrophysics reading and his weak, Terran tea, and all he needs is to focus his thoughts on his work again. Somehow, he had found himself staring at a row of maps on the wall across from him, depicting the capital cities of the four original Federation planets. His own home city is second from the left. Cadet Lawrence has never left Earth before—"Never even been on a shuttle before I came to San Francisco," he'd said, grinning, glancing over at Spock like he was expecting him to laugh.

From the chair next to him, a small hand reaches out, and taps at the edge of his PADD. "Father! Time to work!"

Spock raises his eyebrows, a show of amusement for his son, who is staring at him with the most serious of expressions. Sevin is balanced on top of an unsteady pile of pillows, in order to be tall enough to reach the tabletop, where he has arranged his own version of work: his toy spaceship and three large plastic blocks, out of which he has created a complicated, but inscrutable game. He's still holding the spaceship in his other hand.

"I appreciate how you keep me focused, small one," Spock answers, and gently moves his hand out of the way. Then he turns back to his reading again, but his boy won't be deterred.

"When will we go to the park?" Sevin asks. Usually, he enjoys the cafe: all of the people, mostly Starfleet Cadets and officers, chattering in different languages all around them; the music; the interesting maps and other artwork on the walls; and especially the light fixtures, which hang like crystals at intervals along the ceiling, and never cease to amaze and delight him. He is also fond of the baristas, who think he is the most adorable little boy in the galaxy. But they've been here a long afternoon, and Spock has promised his son an evening at the playground after he has finished his reading.

"Soon," he answers, which is close enough to the truth.

"When?"

Spock sighs. Then he leans in close, as if he were sharing a secret, and says quietly, "When I finish this chapter."

"Then you'll tell me about it?"

He nods. "Yes. And you will tell me about what you have been doing."

Just as they always do. Sevin doesn't understand anything that Spock shares of his studies, and Spock doesn't understand most of what Sevin describes of his games, but they enjoy each other's interest. That is enough.

He has managed to read another three pages, enough to bring him back into a proper, focused, studious mindset again, when an unexpected noise rises above the general background hum of conversation and twenty-second century acoustic guitar, and rouses him again. This time, it is his name. "Cadet Spock," someone says, from right in front of him and somewhat above, and he looks up, briefly startled to see Captain Pike standing next to his chair. He's holding a to-go cup of coffee, and looks like he stopped abruptly, as if he too were caught by surprise.

"Captain," Spock answers. "Good afternoon. I did not notice you passing by."

"No, I can see you're busy. I almost didn't notice you, either." His eyes flick briefly to Sevin, then back to Spock again. Spock can feel the tips of his ears turning hot. He bluffed his way into an advanced level course taught by Captain Pike during his second semester at the Academy, unwilling to take the chance that it would not be offered again, and by the end of the year had convinced the Captain to supervise an additional independent study course for him. This would allow him to get Command track credit, despite being in the Science division. Hoping to make Captain one day, Spock? Pike had asked, in a tone that Spock did not know how to read: friendly, and fond, but slightly teasing too.

I merely wish to expand my understanding of Starfleet as much as possible, Sir.

All right. Well, you know First Officers come from every division, not just Command—

It had felt like a promise, some potential inside him that not even he could see, suddenly laid bare, and he'd blushed at that suggestion too. He’d felt a certain pride filling his chest, squaring his shoulders.

Yet for all their work together, he'd never once mentioned his son.

"So, who's this little guy?" Pike asks now, gesturing with his coffee cup to Sevin. Pike is smiling yet another variant of human smile now, one Spock recognizes well: the expression adults always direct toward his child, to show that they are trustworthy. Sevin is staring back at him, wide-eyed and silent.

"This is Sevin," Spock answers, and on a whim, picks the boy up and settles him on his lap. "My son."

Perhaps he has already hypothesized as much, but Pike lets only the slightest surprise show. His eyebrows rise briefly, and his mouth opens, but he turns the expression back into a smile smoothly enough. "Sevin," he repeats. "And how old are you, Sevin?"

"He's two and a half," Spock answers, when the boy himself doesn't speak. He's still watching Pike with steady curiosity, but seems to consider himself no more than an observer to the conversation.

"And shy?" Pike asks.

"Sometimes."

"Mmm. Well, I can't say I blame him for that." He turns his gaze back to Spock, nods once, and adds, "Nice running into you both. I'll see you on Friday?"

"As always, Sir."

Before he leaves, Pike waves goodbye to Sevin, a small wave for a small boy. Then, when he sees Sevin reaching out for his hand, he holds it out, a shade of uncertainty now across his expression that Spock cannot dispel quickly enough. He knows what Sevin wants to do. But he has no time to pull him back or to give any sort of warning a human would understand, before Sevin has placed his palm on Captain Pike's palm.

A strange jolt passes across his features, only a second, there and gone and in its wake, a confused frown, the slightest parting of his lips. Pike jerks his hand back again, and Spock pulls Sevin close against his chest. "I apologize," he says quickly. "He—he is still leaning to control his telepathic abilities."

Pike is staring down at his hand, as if expecting some physical aftermath there on his skin. He looks up at Spock's words, and his frown deepens. "Oh," he answers, faint and slightly dazed. "Is that what that was. I have to say, Spock," and his tone lightens again, perhaps with effort, perhaps with that innate ability humans seem to have, to rebound quickly from the surprise of any new discovery. "I have to say, I've never experienced anything quite like that before."

"I assure you, he was not trying to read your thoughts, only to share—"

"It's all right." Pike smiles again. "That's a bright little boy you have there. I hope I see you both around again." He waves once more, and Spock offers a faint goodbye, and then Captain Pike is disappearing again into the crowd.

Only then does Spock let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. "We have discussed this, small one," he says, and hugs Sevin closer again. "We—"

"Don't use telepathy with humans," Sevin finishes. "I'm sorry, Father. I just wanted—"

"I know. I understand." The temptation is great sometimes for him, too: a shortcut to communication with these strange, emotional, confusing aliens, who remain always a mystery, even as some of what they are is part of him and his son, too. "I understand," he says again, and presses a kiss to the top of Sevin's head.

#home also i cannot go #haicg #mine #my writing #the year 2020 #2020: free write #2020: answers

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harleyquinnbluemoonlove · 5 years ago

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Welcoming the new Social Movement/Platform/Political Party in the World

Official Name: Blue Dog Bite Mafia 888 *BETA*

Owner/CEO/Founder/Dealer/Player/Delivery BAD B:

Current Name: Monica Gill FUTURE Name: Mercedes Lynnette Giovanni

Email: [email protected]

Current Financial Status: $0.00 ---- You may DONATE by using CASH APP Cash Tag #$bluedogbitemafia888

***MY CYBER FAMILY MUST ENSURE THAT DONATIONS ARE NOT HIGHJACKED/STOLEN****

BASIC IDEA/PLAN OF ATTACK/EXECUTION OR POSITIVE WORDS LIKE “LAUNCH”. We can issue an ATTACK or a LAUNCH CODE.

I will dumb it down a little bit. I am taking advantage of my position of power, now that I am a Celebrity in the World. Its the greatest feeling in the world, feels better than good sex and that is a hard thing for me to admit because I love some good, hot, sweaty sex and I’ve been going without for several weeks. I almost fell like a Nun because I cannot even pleasure myself because I was molested as a child by Lovie Price’s boyfriend “Frank Parker” a gasoline man from an early. I told Connie Price about it when I was 15 and her name at the time was Connie Dunford. It was the same day Brandie Ann Thompson said Curtis Triplett tried to rape her in the bathroom at the house In Frayser, Memphis TN. Brandie Ann in her hayday, resembled a youthful Cameron Diaz. Cameron Diaz dated Justin Timberlake once upon a time. She played in the move “The mask” and the mask was green. At the end of the movie, the dog put on the mask. You all know, when you wear that mask---you become a Shape Shifter, transforming into anything/anyone you think will grab the Hot or Not Rated #10 Woman’s ATTENTION/HEART/LOVE and will do anything, I mean anything to get it. The secret to my success is a compilation of everything good, bad, dirty, evil and let’s call it “The Struggle” or the “Human Experience”.

Old School (OS) Operating System (OS) Back to Basics (B2B) Brandie Thompson (BT) Barry Thompson (BT) Blue Tooth (BT) Brandie Smith (BS) Bull Shit (BS) Rent A Center (RAC) Roger Adren Crawford (RAC) $1K (RAK) Rags to Riches Richard Abernathy (RA) **secret boyfriend shh!!** Douche Bag (DB) or Douglas Belknap (DB) Thomas Jones (TJ) County Road (CR) Danny Thomas (DT) Deanna Thomas (DT) ... Trying to show you how I think period dot. In ya’ll are slow, period dot also equal two dots. You must have two dots to play connect the dots and draw the lines to illustrate inspiration into a masterpiece. The best pieces of Art are very old, have a solid reputation, and is properly curated to ensure it maintains its value for infinity times three.

Basically, you can get with my program, drink my Kool Aid, swallow your pride, do the right thing, if you have done something wrong, you really need to return to your basic religious beliefs what they may be, get right with yourself, because what you have done will come to light, exposed, we are moving on from there. We are, as a society going to change and deliver the children and the children’s children: a brighter future with more options, a limited amount of privacy, give them the world and see what they can accomplish with living in a world of positive vibes, beautiful colors, great music, entrepreneurship, dreams, and now, the little girls if we get married will truly believe in fairytales. This right here is whats up because we have an opportunity, once in a lifetime opportunity, to fix society, establish unity and peace, competition is good but everyone needs a chance to win sometimes to boost their confidence and pride. When there is monopoly or kingdom, it fosters the seven deadly sins, seven capital sins, and the seven cardinal sins, which is systemic to original sin.

Genesis clearly explains that certain things were created on certain days and back time was measured. You cannot just create a man or a woman. First, you need the Universe. Then, you need the Galaxy which creates Space. In Space, you have the moon, stars, sun, planets, black holes, asteroids, comets, shooting stars, orbit, gravitational pull. Here we are on planet Earth with 7 continents and 7 oceans. I like the number 8 because it represent a number, a symbol, and no limitations--infinity. My son was born on 3-8-03 weighing 8 pounds, 8 ounces and 19.5 inches long, color: BLUE, life: No sign of it. It took 10 minutes and PLEADING WITH THE LORD AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS SCREAMING PRAYING TO PLEASE GIVE HIM LIFE, I DON’T WANT TO HAVE GONE THROUGH 35.5 HOURS OF LABOR AND 7 HOURS OF HARD PUSHING WITH NO PAIN MEDICINE, NO EPIDURAL, GAVE BIRTH TO A STILL BORN BABY NATURALLY AND THE GOOD LORD ANSWERED MY PRAYERS AND THAT BOY CRIED AND WENT TO THE NICU AT BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL IN MONTGOMERY COUNTY, MARYLAND. ITS ALSO REFERRED TO AS “THE PRESIDENTS HOSPITAL”.

He is 17 years old, already a MASTERMIND and a Professional Gamer. He is so smart like me, that he had to design/build/code his own computer because there is not a computer on the planet that can keep up with his level of gaming. I saw a photo of it. Its a desktop computer with the case taken off the side--lit up with blue LED lights

It’s Confession Time and Holy Communion Time that means confess your sin, wrongdoing, break bread, eat bread, drink wine, not whine. No days off, no excuse, no immunity, no setups, no blame game, no liars, no stealing, checks and balances, no absolute power because absolute power fosters absolute corruption, which is why were in this position right now with COVID-19, Corona Virus.

I think one person needs a pardon because he has stayed on the job, even though he was originally lied to by the Feds. He deserves a pardon, record expunged, and an opportunity. I see great potential, just needs an opportunity, believe in himself, and have the courage to escape his own prison of gold diggers, groupies, fans, and whores.

In this triad, it is a rags to riches story times three. There is only 1 TRUE VERSION of ME, and its right here in Memphis TN, age: 41(Birth Cert).

To succeed in any sports game, you must be fit, educated, content with yourself to include your pros/cons/demons and knowledgeable & intelligent enough to know that I am certified True OG, I got your back no matter what because to me money ain’t a thing, fame fades just like stars, but loyal dogs do not turn on their master unless they are abused or hungry. I am a Blue AKC Royal Bloodline Pitbull, Staffordshire Terrier. Pitbull is the image you need to have in your mind when you think of ME.

#donations #loyalty #888 #TRUMP2020 #IG #WHISTEBLOWER ACT #RULES #ESPNSPORTS #RAPGODS #GREEKGODS #GOD #CLASHOFTITANS #THEGAME #THEROCK #GLUE #DOCTORS #LAWYERS #COWBOYS #DANCE #L.I.F.E. #LOVE #SM #EM

#NEED SOME COM[ANY AND VITAMIN D

BLUE, COME ON UNLESS YOU ARE “CHICKEN” “SCARED”

I PROMISE I WILL NOT BITE. BUT, I AM STARVING, LONELY, NEED MONEY TO CREATE AND LAUNCH MY DREAMS TO POSITIVELY AND EFFECTIVELY CHANGE THE WORLD WHICH WILL PLACE ME AND PRESIDENT TRUMP IN THE HISTORY BOOKDS. AND THE HISTORY BOOKS ARE GOING TO BECOME FACTBOOKS, AND HISTORY CLASSES WILL BE MANDATORY THROUGHOUT LIFE REGARDLESS OF AGE, POSITION, JOB, FINANCIAL STATUS BECAUSE THE BEST EDUCATION IS A “CONTINUOUS EDUCATION”. IF YOU DO NOT CONTINUE LEARNING, YOU BECOME RUSTY AND THEN, YOU CANNOT KEEP UP THE FAST PACED CHANGES OF ADVANCE TECHNOLOGY IN THE REAL WORLD AND IN THE REAL GAME OF LIFE.

RECOMMENDATIONS ARE AS FOLLOWS:

1. DONATE MONEY TO MY CAUSE ON CASH APP

$BLUEDOGBITEMAFIA888

DO NOT HACK MY PHONE OR MY LAPTOP, DO NOT HACK ANYTHING OR ANYBODY BC YOU CANNOT DO IT BETTER THAN U.S. BC U.S. CREATED THE INTERNET IN WASHINGTON DC AT THE PENTAGON CALLED “DARPANET” IN 1974. THE FIRST COMPUTER WAS AN APPLE, SECOND COMPUTER WAS MICROSOFT. A GOOD BRAND IS A HP WITH MS WINDOWS. I HAVE A BLUE HP LAPTOP STREAM, I HAVE A BLACK APPLE IPHONE 7. I AM ON A WIFI WITH A VPN THAT KEEPS GETTING DISABLED. THE SOUND ON MY PHONE DOES NOT WORK. I AM BACKING UP BOTH DEVICES AND GOING TO RESET TO FACTORY SETTINGS SO I CAN GURANTEE EFFECTIVE DIGITAL SECURITY.

2. I NEED COMPANY TO SIT WITH ME, DRINK WITH ME. I WOULD LOVE SOME JACK AND COKE OR A BUD LIGHT. I WOULD ALSO LOVE SOME FOOD THAT CONTAINS RED MEAT TO ASSIST ME WITH MY BLOOD PROBLEMS. BUDDY OR BLUE OR YO -- FIGURE IT AND SEND ME SOMEONE I KNOW. I AM TOO PRETTY AND TOO COOL TO BE CHILLING BY MYSELF WITH NO FOOD, NO ALCOHOL, NO MONEY, NO WEED, ETC.

3. SELF EVALUATE OR DO A PEER REVIEW/. SELF EVALUATION IS LOOKING AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AND THINKING ABOUT YOUR LIFE. I LIKE TO WRITE THINGS DOWN, IF HELPS ME. IT WILL BRING ABOUT A SENSE OF UNDERSTANDING WHO, WHAT, WHY YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE, HOW YOU BECAME PERSON, AND DESIGN YOUR OWN ROADMAP TO BEING A BETTER PERSON AND OPENING YOUR HEART TO REALIZATION THAT THE CHILDREN ARE THE FUTURE, RIGHT WE ARE THE WORLD, WE CAN ACHIEVE GREATNESS, A NEW TYPE OF MAGIC “UTOPIA”.

WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT? WHAT DO YOU WANT OUT OF LIFE? ARE YOU HAPPY WITH YOURSELF? CAN YOU FREE YOUR MIND? CAN YOU OPEN YOUR HEARTS? CAN YOU COMMIT? DO YOU KNOW WHEN TO WALK AWAY? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN? DO YOU HAVE CONFIDENCE? ARE YOU IN YOUR OWN PRISON--YOUR MIND, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR RELATIONSHIP STATUS?

WISDOM COMES WITH TIME, EXPERIENCE, EDUCATION, HARD WORK, SERVICE, LOYALTY, PURPOSE, AND TRAVELING.

At the end of the day, who do you want to be with?

Woman - Wise can deliver the world or drop the world, age 41 -- looks better than 20 & 30 year old GIRLS. Does not care about money, fame, status, power because the game was scheduled and unfortunately, unaware of the OP -- she walked, ran, sprinted STOLE the Flag, and won the game.

Everyone wants to still run their mouths, try to control a man, and those hos, have no power, position, fame, etc. They are with or around you because of who you are, what you have done, and what you can give them---in my opinion that is abuse of power and targeting someone to manipulating them to do what you want them to do.

I like structure, things to be done a certain way because I like cleanliness, organization, faith, love, hope, trust, and loyalty.

I would not cop an attitude with everyone, if I did not feel like the world was against me. Hint, hint -- I don’t trust authority figures because I was molested, abused, targeted, almost died several times, lied to, cheated on, setups, smear campaigns, gossiped about, bullied, beat on, yelled at, called names, jealous women everywhere so dumb they forget I have a hunger against Human Trafficking. People are on this RACISM BULL SHIT.

Its 2020, Racism = IGNORANCE AND IGNORANCE IS NOT BLISS ANYMORE, IGNORANCE IS DEADLY.

Basic belief system of Karma, it is a metaphysical/paranormal reality that is mixed with real, artificial, and soon-to-be virtual reality. It is what it is.

What you set your mind, what you do and the thoughts and actions you put into the world will either grant you your dreams or come back times three by the of karma, what goes around, comes around.

I want/will do good and be a good role model for everyone. I am going to teach, help you, do what I want, when I want, how I want because I know my worth, my value, and what I can GURANTEE/DELIVER.

Greed, jealousy, laziness, and all the ugly things that are in the world

WILL

get you no where but hungry, lonely but free, penniless, candy-less, eliminate sports.

COMMIT OR QUIT

MY MISSION WILL ENDURE AND CARRY ON UNTIL I FEEL MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I DO NOT HAVE A FAILURE TO THRIVE AND I DO NOT LACK A WILL TO LIVE.

MY ISNT OVER, YET;

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doctorjeremyxvandamme · 5 years ago

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“Yesterday, upon the stair, / I met a man who wasn't t h e r e! / He wasn't there again today. / Oh how I wish he'd go away!”

Below the cut, you can find Jeremy’s basic info, key story points, full bio, and a handful of possible connections, although I am open to most plots! Triggers include death mentions, blood mentions, and a handful of horror elements. Please do feel free to reach out if I can provide context without mention of those topics.

basics

Name: Dr. Jeremy van Damme

Gender/Pronouns: Cismale | He/Him

Date of Birth: January 22, 1981

Age: 39

Hometown: Jersey City, NJ

Length of time in Crescent Harbor: 5 Years

Neighborhood: Hemlock Docks

Occupation: Professor of Anthropology at Crescent College

Faceclaim: Matthias Schoenaerts

key points

An only child, the son of a Belgian-born painter of some renown, but primarily among art types with an interest in niche work

Has a doctorate in anthropology from New York University and now teaches the discipline at Crescent College. Completed his undergrad education in Washington

Devotes most of his research to modern folklore, urban legends, and what he calls ritualistic play: games like Bloody Mary or Charlie Charlie, the latest variation of Juego de la Lapicera, meant to summon something, communicate with something, or achieve specific ends through strict adherence to pre-determined rules or conditions

A history buff. Knows much about the origins of Crescent Harbor and is now actively involved in historical preservation efforts. His interests encompass the periods both prior to and following the actual founding of the town.

Something of a pack-rat. Collects oddities and antiques and allows visitors to poke around his overcrowded house.

full bio (tw: death, blood, horror elements)

If he angled his neck just right, face pressed against the glass, held there by tiny, marker-covered hands, he could just barely see the monster from his bedroom window. The gangling, wide-eyed thing, all teeth and blackened pupils, was caught in an eternal snarl by the glint of the corner street lamp (which had been broken for some time and blinked erratically every few minutes). The light has stay on because the light keeps it there, he would think. So long as the light stays on, it has to stay there and cannot come here. For as long as the boy could remember, though, this massive graffiti creature, the handiwork of some unknown artist or another, had been spray-painted there, overseeing its domain from the red brick facade of an already defunct paper packaging warehouse. And it certainly had not escaped yet. But this particular piece of street art had long frightened the young Jeremy van Damme, who would spend his nights watching it from the safety of his heightened perch.

At that time, he lived with his father (a native of Flanders and painter of some niche surrealist renown) and mother (a full-time college dean and part-time muse to her artiste husband) in a tall brown apartment building that swayed with the wind. The groaning of the foundation, the creaking of the pipes, and the unpleasant damp sweetness, an almost bloody smell, that occasionally wafted out an uncovered vent after a storm, instilled in the boy an early sense of fantastic terror. More often than not, Jeremy van Damme was afraid. At the age of six, he discovered in a forgotten photo album a picture of himself he could not recall taking. And there, he abruptly decided some other Jeremy, a doppelganger or double or mimic, not only existed, but was waiting for the opportunity to strike and swallow him whole. At the age of seven, he got it into his head that a family of venomous lizards had taken up residence in the basement washing machine; he could hear them hissing if he listened closely. And at the age of eight, the death of the elderly woman down the hall gave birth to a new series of existential horrors, of the terrible uncertainty of the afterlife, of restless ghosts, and of white-haired specters that stalked hallways by night in search of little boys to do whatever it is ghosts do.

Nevertheless, the apartment was not vacant for long, and in the weeks that followed, Jeremy struck up a new friendship with a girl his age who had moved into the building with her family. And with how cheery they had painted the place, one could almost forget what happened to poor old Mrs. Hansen there. It was through this new companion, however, that Jeremy himself, albeit wide-eyed and screaming, was introduced to the sort of ritualistic play that would eventually guide his career. With nothing but a pack of stolen matches and the misguided goal of “putting the spirit to rest,” the pair of them locked themselves in her bathroom to chant into the mirror, spin in circles, and search for faces in the glass. And while they never found them, these games did instill in the young Jeremy a new sense of bravery and morbid curiosity. After all, if a ghost could be banished away by something as simple as blowing out a match, maybe they were not so frightening after all.

Still, he had always been curious. His mother was, after all, a career academic, and to that end, Jeremy had little hope of genuinely shirking his homework. He did well in school and read often. Small and eager to be helpful, he was even, in some ways, a natural teacher’s pet, eager to spend more time among the adults than the playground bullies. Eventually, Jeremy attended a nearby “all boys” Catholic high school, and while the AV Club was already dying by that time, he and a few friends began borrowing their camera equipment to “record psychic phenomena,” which largely consisted of them trying to unsuccessfully move rubber balls with their minds.

At sixteen, however, one of the boys got his own car, and the unlikely group was able to finally take part in a bit of local legend that involved circling an abandoned house several times, honking one’s horn, and then flashing one’s headlights. The result was the ghost of “Clarice” appearing in an upper story window to chase the intruders away. Every time they did this ritual, someone in the vehicle would shout that they had seen her (although it was never more than one person at a time). Following one such excursion, one boy disappeared from school with the flu for a week, and there was, at least, a successful rumor he had been spirited away. That was sort of fun.

Upon graduating, near but not quite at the top of his class, Jeremy ultimately attended the University of Washington, eager to spread his wings to the West Coast although Stanford had rejected him. While he began his higher education as a History major, he eventually shifted his focus to cultural anthropology, in which he earned his Bachelor’s degree. Graduate School, a Master’s degree, and a Doctorate from New York University eventually followed, and Jeremy began focusing his field of study more specifically on the role of folklore and legend in the modern world. His first and only full-length book, a small academic piece, entitled Creating Clarice: An Anthropological Case Study on the Invention of a Ghost, sprung to life when he, upon digging through an academic database, discovered the phantom woman he had tried so vehemently to conjure as a teenager had never actually existed.

Combining local interviews, in-depth real estate research, historical records, and a dive into the roots of ritualistic children’s games themselves, he tried, with varying levels of success, to trace the story to its source and frame it in the context of the community that had created it. This research, while mostly published for classroom use, did eventually earn him a position at Crescent College, where he still teaches today.

In his five years in town, Jeremy has since become something of an undisputed expert in local history, collecting trivia in the same way others might collect stamps. That said, Jeremy remains, to this day, a collector in the most traditional sense. His small home, an old building near the docks, has its charms and is known to be full of oddities, antiques, and other things that have caught the owner’s fancy. Most are of local interest, and Jeremy has rather seriously involved himself in town preservation efforts.

possible connections

The Student - Jeremy is a professor at Crescent College and teaches a variety of anthropology courses for all skill levels. This person is either a former or current student. Perhaps Jeremy mentors them, or perhaps they were an eternal thorn in his side.

The Curious - Jeremy collects all sorts of odd objects he finds. From 19th century tea sets, to old letters and photographs, to “haunted” mirrors and dolls, he welcomes this person regularly to poke around the antiques and maybe even goes shopping with them.

The Adventurous - Jeremy’s primary areas of expertise are modern folklore and ritualistic play. He and this person team up to test out the latest spooky games and legends, from trying to summon up a mirror ghost or see if they can get someone from beyond the grave talk with them through a disconnected telephone.

The Historian - Jeremy is well-versed in the history of the town and its founding families. Perhaps this person wants or needs to learn more about some obscure local topic, and the professor is here to help.

#crescent:intro #intro #about #bio #tw: death #tw: blood

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nanna-melissa · 5 years ago

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Nanna’s Record Collection #2: Queen

Now..me..a Queen fan? Unbelievable. So I started to get into Queen a few years ago but I was a pretty casual fan. When I was digging into their musical catalog a bit more, I was also getting into Placebo and they sort of took over. I didn’t listen to Queen proper until three months ago. I’ve listened to many of their bigger singles and had their Greatest Hits Vol. II on when I worked on projects. Now my order for this is not going to be chronological in which they were released but when I bought them. My top 5 are going to be first so enough explanation, let’s get onto..

This photo is so blue/purple compared to the others, gotta love my phone trying to white balance. So, I bought this and the next one I’m going to talk about at the same time. My first impression with this album was ‘okay, this is the one with BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY ON IT’ and that song isn’t my absolute favorite on this thing! I have to say listening to it in full for the first time was a ride. Death on Two Legs followed by Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon was like whiplash but then I’M IN LOVE WITH MY CAR...BITCH. I did not think Roger would go as hard as he did. I was taken aback...I was laughing...I was shocked....I had questions, comments and concerns. Like....TOLD MY GIRL I HAD TO FORGET HER, RATHER BUY ME A NEW CARBURETOR...then CARS DON’T TALK BACK, THEY’RE JUST FOUR-WHEELED FRIENDS NOW. Iconic. It’s got my pistons a-pumpin’. You’re my Best Friend was familiar territory. It’s John being fuckin’ wholesome but then came ‘39. It was love at first listen. I listened to that song on loop for like two weeks. Sweet Lady didn’t grab me as hard but with a line like ‘you call me sweet like I’m some kind of cheese’...I was missing out. I also skipped Seaside Rendezvous and listened to it on vinyl for the first time and wanted to kick my own ass for not letting myself listen to it sooner. I love that song. Prophet’s Song, I think..is kinda weak? But it’s ending transitioning into Love of my Life? OOH BB. GOOD SHIT. Then there’s Good Company and I love Brian’s voice in it and the Ukulele slaps. Then what can I say about Bo Rhap that people haven’t like come on.

Favorites: Death on Two Legs, Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon, I’m in Love with my Car, You’re my Best Friend, ‘39, Sea Side Rendezvous, Love of my Life, Good Company, and Bohemian Rhapsody...(so nearly the whole album)

This boy? Right here? This is my favorite Queen album. Considering Radio Ga GA and I Want to Break Free were the first two songs I fell in love with...it was kind of meant to be, huh? But for real, this album has no dud. Radio Ga Ga? Banger and if you don’t clap along with it, I’m judging you. Tear it Up? It is such an 80′s Queen Brian song. That guitar is so...ooh 👌 It’s a Hard Life? THOSE OPENING LINES AND HOW FREDDIE SINGS THEM OWN MY ENTIRE ASS. With the video, Fred’s goddamn red and black winged liner look..........holy shit. Also Roger looks like a child on the verge of a temper tantrum and I live for it. Man on the Prowl is just fun. Now...Machines (Back to Human), people sleep on this one. The vocals, the synths, the guitar..perfection. I Want to Break Free, come on. The video. Rogerina. John writing yet another absolute banger like the icon he is. Perfection. Then it’s followed by another song people sleep on. Keep Passing the Open Windows just does something for me. The bass on that track cures my depression and it mixed with the drums? I’m done for. Hammer to Fall after? Again, another absolute banger. Is This the World we Created is such a fantastic closer.

Favorites: Every. Single. Song.

I know Hot Space is a very hit or miss album for many people. For me, this is pretty much tied for second favorite album alongside a Night at the Opera. Hearing about this one, I heard this was Queen’s worst album. To that I say a couple things. One, the people saying that are straight. Two, they don’t like fun music. While gay club, disco/funk influenced, heavily due to Freddie and also John, this album is so much fun. Staying Power is such a strong opener. The sax, Freddie’s vocals and the more funky guitars make me just want to boogie. I love the little ‘yeah!’ Fred does after ‘See what I got, I got a hell of a lot’ in the beginning. Dancer is a bit out there for Brian and I appreciate. Now when I say Back Chat owns my ass, it truly owns my ass. It is the landlord of my ass. A diss track towards Brian written by John and then JOHN BOPPING AROUND IN THE VIDEO AND SMILING WHILE BRIAN LOOKS MISERABLE...that’s a level of petty I aspire to be. Now, Body Language fucks. That bass fucks. It’s a simple song, not too complicated but it works so well. Action This Day is alright. I enjoy the chorus but it’s a slight bore to me...and yet Body Language is not I might ruffle some feathers saying that. Put Out the Fire is very 80′s Brian. Can see some stepping stones from this to the Works.

Life is Real grew on me. I’m a John Lennon fan (I know, prepare the pitchforks and the ‘he beat his wife’ comments) and it’s very John. It’s a wonderful creative tribute to the man. Calling All Girls grew on me. It’s video is questionable at best. Even Brian and Roger watching it back were like ‘what in the fuck is this’ and Roger forgot it was his song. Legend. Las Palabras De Amor is beautiful. Them harmonizing in the chorus does something for me. Now...Cool Cat. Cool Cat is easily in my top 3 all-time favorite Queen songs. Whenever I listen to this song, I swear I can feel the dopamine receptors connecting in my brain. Fred’s falsetto fucks me up. Also take a moment of appreciation for John Richard Deacon born on August the 19th, 1951. He wrote it and did the entire instrumental. The talent? Immense. Now the closer is of course Under Pressure. I wish they kept Brian’s bit in it but hey, what can you do. I can’t really say anything about the song besides it slaps and the highest note was not done by Freddie but Roger.

Favorites: Staying Power, Back Chat, Body Language, Put out the Fire, Cool Cat, Under Pressure.

This is an interesting one. She used to be a woman with a hotdog stand HOOP DIDDY DIDDY HOOP DIDDY DOO. Now, this one caught my attention due to the first two tracks. Innuendo mixes genres so beautifully. That spanish guitar section is stunning and the bridge gets me every time. I’m Going Slightly Mad after that? It’s a bit odd. The introduction on the track is an odd one and it used to slightly creep it out the first time I heard it. But the more I listen, the more I really appreciate how fun it is. The video is one of my absolute favorites. Freddie’s look. Brian WEARING CLOGS IN THE 90′s LIKE AN ABSOLUTE UNIT, and John just standing there with a yo-yo makes me happy. Headlong kind of makes me laugh now after watching the making of this album’s documentary. Roger talks about how it’s a serious album but then it cuts to the SHE USED TO BE A WOMAN WITH A HOTDOG STAND line. The next three songs I didn’t give a chance until about a month ago. Ride the Wild Wind is one I was not expecting to enjoy as much as I do but there’s something about it. Along with Don’t Try So Hard. Now...These Are the Days of Our Lives? Excuse me while I cry. The last song I want to talk about is Delilah. A song Freddie wrote for his favorite cat. The lines ‘you make me so very happy, when you cuddle up and go to sleep beside me...but then you make me slightly mad, when you pee all over my chippendale suite’. BUT THEN THE MEOWS AND BRIAN MAKING HIS GUITAR SOUND LIKE A CAT MY HEART MELTS.

Favorites: Innuendo, I’m Going Slightly Mad, Headlong, I Can’t Live With You, Don’t Try So Hard, Ride the Wild Wind, Delilah, the Show Must Go On.

Holy shit number five. My fingers are in slight pain and I have four more to go after this. Now time for a confession, I guess? I used to hate Killer Queen. For some reason, I couldn’t stand it. Key words there are used to. That song is a bop and I was a dumb bitch I guess. Tenement Funster is honestly such a Roger track. The opening line makes me think it’s a nod to those glittery converse he used to wear. Those were a strong look. Flick of the Wrist is the grand pappy of Death on Two Legs. Or is the father? I don’t know. But it’s still a diss track for a manager who did them dirty. Anyway, this track does something for me. In the Lap of the Gods....Roger’s goddamn FALSETTO HOW DARE HE. Then when they did this song live and he did that shit...bitch. My jaw DROPPED. Stone Cold Crazy with that almost early punk sound? Hell yee. Now, Misfire. Learning the meaning behind it.....John....honey...oof. I mean it’s a bop about ending too early during sex, that you cannot deny. Leroy Brown was one that grew on me. I actually didn’t care too much for it for a while. It’s fun. Now, She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilettos)...WHY ARE PEOPLE SLEEPING ON THIS TRACK???! Brian’s vocals are so fuckin’ beautiful, paired with that simple instrumental...it’s such a stunning track. Lap of the Gods (revisited) I slept on. I deserve to have my ass kicked for that.

Favorites: Flick of the Wrist, Lap of the Gods, Misfire, She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilettos) and Last of the Gods...revisited.

This one is still growing on me. Father to Son when I first heard it flicked something in my brain and it’s one of those that I cannot skip when it’s on. White Queen didn’t really impress me at first and it required a re-listen. Then I actually properly listened to it and it got me hooked. Now, Loser in the End. That song FUCKS and it’s my favorite off this record. It sounds vastly different from many of the others and it felt like a breath of fresh air. Ogre Battle is a fuckin’ beast of a track. Along with it, most of the Black side just kind of reminds me of playing D&D with the boys. Am I alone in this? Probably. This one I’m still getting into for the most part.

Favorites: Father to Son, White Queen (as it Began), Loser in the End, Ogre Battle, Funny How Love Is, Seven Seas of Rhye.

This scamp was hard to get a good picture of. That cover is hella reflective. This is one I wasn’t expecting to add into my collection. It’s not my absolute top favorite, I do still rather enjoy it. Play the Game is pretty mellow but then goddamn DRAGON ATTACK. EXCUSE ME. The bass on that track? That guitar riff? I’m done. I am deceased. BUT THEN THAT’S FOLLOWED BY ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST, BIIIIIIITCH. If you couldn’t tell, I love a good bass line. This one is so fuckin’ tasty. It’s simple but so goddamn effective. Need Your Loving Tonight seems like almost like a transitional song. It gives me a bit of a Hot Space Vibe. Crazy Little Thing Called Love is a song me and my mom bond over all the time. It’s her favorite Queen song and we often sing along to it in the car. Now. Rock it? Rock it (Prime Jive)? It slaps and it slaps hard. However, listening to it one night, the track faintly reminded me of Sword of Damocles from Rocky Horror Picture Show. The Vocals very much did and the instrumental as well but not as much. Now with Don’t Try Suicide....it’s one song I’m really not a fan of. Having to do with childhood trauma dealing with suicide? Maybe so. The last three I still need to give a proper chance? I’m weird with albums. I sleep on songs then finally listen to them get regret for not listening to them sooner.

Favorites: Dragon Attack, Another one Bites the Dust, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Rock it (Prime Jive), and Save Me.

Damn alright, I’m starting to get tired of typing but this is the second to the last boyoo. My phalanges are literally going to fall off when I talk about the Beatles. OKAY NOW, another album I slept on for a while. I’m a dumb bitch, we established this. I listened to this album before in full but it didn’t do much for me. I gave it another go and found I actually enjoyed quite a bit of it. Tie your Mother Down brought me back to the days of listening to their Greatest Hits II album on their YouTube Channel. The Intro music was the guitar rift for this song. You Take my Breath Away is an interesting one. Very reminiscent of Love of my Life...almost a sort of lonely love song of sorts. You and I is sort of the complete opposite and it does sort of illustrate how lonely Freddie was. Somebody to Love and it’s harmonies water my crops, clear my depression, and give me a hug. Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy is one of those tunes you just have bop to. Drowse is absolutely STUNNING. Not what I expect from a Roger song. I mean the last one of his on an album was what? I’m in Love with my Car? We love a versatile icon. Teo Torriatte and just the meaning behind it is so incredibly sweet. It’s so absolutely wholesome and reading how Brian and the boys worked with their translator to get it just right for their Japanese audience. My heart is full.

Favorites: You Take my Breath Away, You and I, Drowse, Teo Torriatte.

HOLY SHIT LAST ONE. When I sat down and started listening to their entire discography, this one really set the stage of what was to come. Keep Yourself Alive is such a strong opener in my opinion. Also DO YOU THINK YOU GET BETTER EVERYDAY?? NO I JUST THINK I’M TWO STEPS NEARER TO MY GRAVE...a bop. Doing Alright isn’t my favorite but is it fun to sing ‘doing alriiiiiiiight’?. Hell yee. Great Rat King fuckin’ SLAPS. Now...I am a simple woman and when I hear Liar..I get more turnt than a white dad at a barbeque in cargo shorts and crocs listening to Bruce Springsteen. It’s almost impossible for me to not sing along. To scream LIAR and of course MAMA I’M GONNA BE YOUR SLAVE ALL DAY LONG....ooh BABY. Solid track. Also that version of them playing it at the Rainbow is absolute perfection. Modern Times Rock n Roll comes out of almost no-where and damn...Rog really out here. It’s also far too short for my liking. Son & Daugher I have to say gives me almost Cream vibes? I dig it. The vocals goddamn kill me..straight up manslaughter, truly.

Favorites: Keep Yourself Alive, Great Rat King, Liar, Modern Times Rock n Roll and Son & Daughter.

This took me nearly two hours to write, holy hell. But hey, those are my 9 records that I wrote essays about.

#Queen #Queen band #record collection #vinyl collection #nanna-melissa #I'll add more tags later fuck it

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myherorp · 5 years ago

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THE QUIRK DATABASE HAS BEEN UPDATED !

incoming information on villain, glamour.

get to know them !

faceclaim: Jung Eunbi

name: Boo Dalbyeol

villain name: The Illusive Villain, “ Glamour ! ”

gender & pronouns: Cis Female, Feminine

birthday & age: December 25ᵗʰ, 21.

association: Unassociated.

occupation: Part - time baker at BonBons.

reputation: The classification of villain does not fill other villains with reassurance or camaraderie; Dalbyeol is a universal villain who is not afraid of selling other villains out or double - crossing them if it benefits her. Among cut throat, ruthless bad guys she is certainly meeker in comparison and not as eager to get her hands dirty. Therefore, it’s more accurate to say she is a petty criminal. Some see her as having immense potential if molded correctly and persuaded into committing herself to a life of villainous acts, others are wary of her trickery and even more view her as pain in their ass should she stumble upon their scene.

the quirk !

quirk name: Mirage ―― Hallucikinesis.

quirk description: It is a long-range emitter type quirk that allows her to affect all five senses, causing targets to see, hear, touch, smell and taste things which do not actually exist, in part making her imagination their reality.

abilities:

Illusions ; The user can induce illusions onto the targets she has acquired and cause their six senses to be affected, basically causing illusions to become “real” to them. Although past Illusion quirk users have been able to create very elaborate and large scale illusions, at her current level she is restrained in what she can do. On another note, she can only create things she has seen ― and even then her illusions are created from her sight, so some are subject to being wrong ( if there is someone with five buttons on their jacket but she can only see four, the illusion she creates of them will only have four buttons because that is all she saw; in short, her illusions are subject to her memory and knowledge ).

Combat ; In order to cover for her shortcomings, Dalbyeol has trained her body and mind in order not to be completely overwhelmed by power-type quirks should her target break free of her illusions or simply doesn’t give her the chance to capture them in one. She is also able to fight with her illusions by creating multiples of herself and deceiving others into believing that is the real one, only to take them out while they are distracted. Her illusions are subject to physical strengths, however they are never as strong as their “real counterpart.” The realer one believes them to be, the stronger. However, if belief wavers they are weakened and tend to fade in and out until the target either breaks through or falters themselves and no longer doubts if the illusion is fake.

Morphing ; The user can morph oneself into something else, or disappear completely within her illusions in the affected target’s eyes, or cast the same illusion over an ally. Nonetheless, if the person she is fighting has a sensory quirk, they’ll see past the illusion with it and nullify the “invisibility”. Regardless, the “invisibility” or “morphing” only works on the person ( or people ) her quirk is used on, and to everyone not subject to it they will not be deceived or duped as they cannot see her illusions.

weaknesses:

In order to activate her quirk, she must make eye contact with her intended targets ( it must extend both ways, they have to meet her eyes as well, she cannot simply look at them ). Her eyes turn a shade of magenta when it is activated which gives it away so she commonly wears sunglasses or colored contacts to hide the tell - tale sign. She can activate it on multiple targets as long as they look at her and she looks at them ( she does not need to continuously meet their eyes ).

Over exertion of this quirk causes her to receive excruciating migraines, bloody noses and extreme fatigue. There have also been cases where she falls victim to her own illusions in cases of extreme stress and can no longer tell reality from fantasy, and during those times her illusions were stronger and affected “allies” as well until she passed out.

This quirk is completely worthless against non - living organisms and nor are they effective on technology; high - tech devices do not pick up her illusions and are quite disruptive to her techniques. It also has very little effect ― if any ― on those with quirks that boost their senses.

It is not a quirk that allows her to conjure up illusions without putting thought into the things she creates, therefore research and knowledge pertaining to things and people is required if she wishes for her illusions to be convincing. For instance, if she sees a house from front to back, side to side she can recreate the exterior, however unless she has seen the inside and studied it, it will differ greatly from reality.

the history !

triggers: mentions of prison, mentions of adoption

They made their living through cheap tricks and petty crime; the unexpected arrival of their first child might have convinced some to give up their lives as low - life criminals, but for the young couple it only bolstered their urge to raise the stakes ― go big or go home. The valiant dream of raising their children without ever knowing what it was like to want for something; their five - finger discount would go a long way and at least for the early stages of her life, the young child was none the wiser to the schemes her parents were up to. And despite the constant bouncing ―― never staying in one place for too long ―― the memories they left her with were treasured, tainted only by the eventual realization that everything that surrounded her was built upon a foundation of lies and deception.

It was a domino effect. The manifestation of her quirk came with a rush of adrenaline and excitement for the future; setting a spiral of events into motion, the gears in her parents head turning at a dizzying speed. It was all for the better good;; they had assured her time and time again that using her quirk to assist them with their own “jobs” was not wrong at all ―― she was merely helping them all to better their lives. Every single person they tricked would be fine at the end of the day, and besides that, it was something the grown up’s would concern themselves with; she needn’t worry her pretty little head. But crime has a way of catching up to everyone one way or another ―― some call it karma and others call it divine intervention. Boo Dalbyeol called it losing her parents.

The childish innocence of being blissfully ignorant to the questionable things going on around can only stretch so far ―― there is no illusion that her parents could be categorized as good people, however the life they showed their children was all she had ever known. It’s a risky scheme that doesn’t work out in their favor, handcuffs clasped around wrists and a blanket wrapped around her; words that express that it’s all over, she and her younger sibling are safe and in good hands, they’ll finally live a normal life and get to be kids ―― just kids who worry about trivial things and argue over pizza toppings. It is a strange and alarming change, but it is always expected by her, at least, that her parents will come pick her up any day now, people go to jail and get out every single day.

It is a mistake on her part, an inability to understand the depths of her parents’ crimes and just how far their schemes reached ―― they wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

It’s apparent from the start that she has trouble adjusting; the young couple that takes her and her brother in are apprehensive from the first time she uses her quirk around them; it is something they forbade her from using, the quiet insistence that it is too villainous causing her to throw a fit because it doesn’t seem fair they put limitations on her. It’s merely because she believes they’re being dramatic and partly because she played around with her parents in the exact same way, however she startles them with her quirk continuously, laughing at they’re caught up in an illusion, but she’s never malicious, not once, and yet their demeanor toward her sours, a stark contrast between how they treat her younger sibling. As a child, she struggles to understand, and once again she begins waiting at the window for her parents to come take her back home.

They never come. A childhood and a teenhood spent feeling like an outsider in a strange place, hours spent away from home because she doesn’t feel needed or wanted ―― and she tries to be a better daughter for a while, however she stumbles and fails and nothing ever seems good enough. The moment she is old enough to get a job and support herself, she moves away from her adoptive parents’, old habits catch her. If she struggles, she cheats just a little bit, things she’s picked up from her parents so easy to replicate. Unfortunately, a little bit is only satiable for so long, and currently she’s making a living partly honorably and through a job, partly through cheap - tricks because it’s easier that way. There’s a minor struggle and conflict within her, on one hand she knows it’s wrong, however on the other hand the fact that it’s easier to be bad than good is too appealing ―― after all, her quirk is too villainous, why break out of the mold?

the personality !

The exquisite nature of a diamond is not formed instantaneously, and the original form lacks luster until refined and crafted into something beautiful. There is an existing beauty in the way a gem looks before it is carved into the image of what someone else believes it should look like, and there is beauty in the natural jagged edges of an uncut gem that has not yet been tampered with, or not yet been persuaded into changing into the creation others desire it to look like. Like a piece of black coal transformed under the weight of something else, a diamond is formed under the immense pressure of hopes and dreams.

From the outside looking in, it’s easy to think of Dalbyeol as something akin to a spoiled brat, but if given the chance she proves that she has a lot to offer as a person ― she is a person able to shine brightly. This young woman is mellow as well as zany, and she is often referred to as someone who is charismatic in her social encounters; easy going with a playful nature that keeps others on their toes as her antics are both cheeky and unpredictable. She is cheerful and humorous and charismatic; the type of person who loves loudly and shows her warmth by being affectionate and attentive.

There are certain aspects that ensure she will always be seeking something out and looking for it in every person who shows her even the slightest bit of attention. Melancholic shades paint the colors of her eyes if she is not careful; the appearance of an heiress who can have anything she wants stretches for miles and glimpses of her persona have caused many misconceptions regarding her character. There is little doubt that she is used to getting her way, however, she is more than the fabricated rumors that swirl above her head, and sincerely she is a good person who is empathetic of others, and in general she is a person who desires to be wanted.

#myheroaccepted #myherofollow #adoption tw #prison tw

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thebiblesalesman · 6 years ago

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A Knowing Grin: Relationships in What You Left Behind, the New Overwatch Short Story

Baptiste & Mauga

Nguyen & Sainclair

Overwatch & Talon

The Middle East Scenario

Baptiste & Mauga

Baptiste and Mauga moved in tandem, with the practiced ease of soldiers used to fighting together. It had been years, but it came back quickly, as natural as breathing.

“I missed you, you know,” Mauga called over the roar of gunfire. He was enjoying every moment of the battle, relishing the adrenaline. Baptiste could feel that same rush in his veins, too. “All those years you were on the run, and we could have been doing this instead. Don’t tell me you didn’t miss it, too.”

Had he? More than he was willing to admit. He’d spent so many years running, and this felt right—not being part of Talon, but having a place where he belonged, with a dependable team at his back. That was what he’d found when he joined the Caribbean Coalition, and later with Mauga and their squad. Taking care of people centered him, made him feel whole.

Baptiste and Mauga are two people who exist on the same wavelength, uniquely capable of reading how each other are feeling. Their friendship does not require niceties because it is fundamentally about sensitivity. Baptiste was seeking a sense of belonging, and Mauga is the life raft he happened to cling to. Mauga is isolated even among killers for various reasons, but quickly discovered he could refuge all of himself in Baptiste- both his friendly, charismatic exterior, and his colder but more genuine thoughts. Baptiste sees straight through him, and that turns out to be something he appreciates.

Baptiste, along with Sombra and Mercy, is an orphan of war. Throughout his life he has sought a place to take shelter and find meaning in dependable people around him. You can actually compare him to Ashe, who retains her blood relatives and appears blissfully unaffected by the Crisis, but who did not receive the satisfaction of a well-connected family and ultimately invented her own. But unlike Ashe, Baptiste did not have a wealth of opportunities. Overwatch—an organization he dreamed about as a child—never even came to his home country of Haiti. In that organization’s absence, the islands of the Caribbean formed their own Coalition, and he took root there.

He proved an elite medic and prime special ops material. But all things end, the Crisis included, and his service. Baptiste was faced with the threat of no longer belonging, and sought an organization that could make use of his skills. Talon was “a well-paying mercenary group that took on security missions that were sanctioned by official organizations or corporations”. Once inducted, he made fast friends with another recruit, Mauga. Specifically, Mauga “pulled Baptiste into his orbit”, fulfilling that fundamental need in Baptiste to have someone to serve and care for.

“Watch your back,” he shouted instead, taking down a mercenary who’d been about to shoot Mauga.

“That’s your job!” Mauga laughed. His gun tore a path through the guards swarming the top of the staircase, and they ducked for cover. He was in his element, wild and unleashed. He’d been like this on their missions, a hurricane of a man.

With you at my back, we can do anything, he’d told Baptiste once. You’re the best medic in Talon. You keep me alive, and I’ll protect you. No one stands a chance.

Baptiste and the others in their Talon unit—Doubleday, Mazzei, and Pacanowsky —operated as troopers, the same as many other ex-military agents from around the world. Mauga took the role of Heavy Assault, described as follows in the Venice Memorandum: “Believed to be the products of extensive genetic engineering, these elite troopers employ an extremely powerful exoskeleton and stimulants to increase their combat effectiveness.” While violence is a path Mauga chose, it is worth keeping in mind that his brutality is further fueled by engineering, or drugs, or both.

For a time, Baptiste was content with Talon, even as his missions grew increasingly questionable. Four years ago, two years after Talon’s newest leadership figure was jailed by Overwatch, Baptiste realized that his “security missions” were perpetuating the cycle of suffering, that he was creating more Baptistes by his own hand. His closeness with Mauga proved a selfish thing, one of the many comforts Talon offered in exchange for his soul. He fled from the Monte Cristi battlefield, but Mauga proved as attuned to him as ever, and was the first to find him in his escape.

“Cuerva told us that those missions were on the level,” Baptiste said weakly. He’d known the truth, even then. But he hadn’t wanted to believe it. And from the look on Mauga’s face, he knew that, too.

“Of course he did. And of course they weren’t. But who cares? We’re in too deep, Baptiste.” For a moment, all his bravado dropped away. It was just the two of them, no audience, standing beside the water. When he spoke, it was quiet. “There are no good people. Not you, not me. All we can do is have fun while we’ve got the chance.”

And Mauga challenged Baptiste’s narrative of his life. He highlighted two other missions, Makati and Singapore, that had been just as heinous. According to Mauga, Baptiste knew it was wrong the whole time. It was just that in Monte Cristi he encountered something personal—saw a ghost—and that his flight from Talon was just another self-indulgent act. Mauga ultimately let Baptiste go, but he also did not go with him. Baptiste, likewise, never thought to offer that possibility to Mauga.

Unlike Baptiste, who grew up dreaming about a world that could be and an Overwatch that never came to save him, Mauga has made his judgement of the world and the people in it. It makes sense for him to have no interest in deserting: the entire world is as awful as Talon in his eyes, but Talon is where he has the most fun wading through it. But he retains a weakness for Baptiste, his own personal mind-reader, and ultimately he becomes one of the ghosts that Baptiste leaves behind.

Flash-forward four years and Baptiste is consumed by the nightmare of his choice, which has left him without a home or a family. He travels from place to place, trying to outrun the invitations Talon constantly sends after him. It’s not as simple as fearing for his life. Talon prefers his talent, not his blood. His old captain, Cuerva, describes the potential capture of him in the most idyllic sense:

If all goes well, everything will be settled and we’ll be on our way home by tonight. Hopefully Baptiste will be among us, playing cards and drinking rum, instead of lying in a shallow island grave. [Cuerva Strike Team Log]

The threat for Baptiste is playing cards and drinking rum with his fellow soldiers is something he would prefer to running and hiding too. But given it was the behavior of his squadmates and Cuerva that led him to flee Monte Cristi, he has no trouble dispatching all of them when they come to call.

It’s Mauga who becomes the problem. Mauga, his perfect foil, comes hunting Baptiste in Port-de-Paix, stalking out Baptiste’s habitual safety net, inserting himself in Baptiste’s old home—offering himself and Talon as a replacement. Mauga does not do this at the whimsy of some higher-up, but for his own attachment to Baptiste. He comes offering the horror of constant killing, and the chance to belong again.

Even the mission Mauga shuttles Baptiste into is tailored to play on his desire to find purpose in serving others. Mauga’s manipulations are expert, a send-up to the fact that he only plays the role of a brute, and that in truth he is sly and dangerous—unfortunately this too is a trait Baptiste likes about him. Theirs is a friendship compounded by years of fighting beside each other, and as Baptiste embarks on the Port-de-Paix mission, he finds himself coming back to Mauga’s style “as natural as breathing”.

The mission itself seems to be dancing to Mauga’s tune too. Baptiste finally meets a member of Overwatch, and he is man invested in causing suffering to his own city, a man who gave up his comrades for gold. Mauga uses this man to test Baptiste, to get him to break his final code: that he will not kill an unarmed combatant.

But for a second time, Baptiste and Mauga cannot find agreement. Thus when Mauga comes again after Baptiste’s escape, all he offers is death. Just as Baptiste was never able to completely relinquish the comforts of friendship to do what is right, Mauga refuses to relinquish the comfort of Talon for friendship. The two of them are divorced from the larger conflicts of Talon and Overwatch or omnics and humans except as collateral victims, and in Mauga’s case this has produced a demon who is smiling at you as he kills you.

Mauga stood in the full-length window, scanning the canopy of trees. All of the glass panes were blown out, shattered by the bullets from his massive guns. “Baptiste,” he called. “Buddy, I just want to talk.”

The story’s dramatic showpiece of Baptiste and Mauga’s connection sees Baptiste working Mauga out of a battle-lust using nothing but his voice. There are a couple important features to this scene: 1) that Baptiste only gets to Mauga to behave like a friendly human being for a moment, that Mauga smiles, then kills a helpless man anyway, 2) that from the very start Mauga understands Baptiste’s thoughts too.

Mauga spends a lot of his time smiling like he does to Baptiste in the scene, either acting a role, or confident he has worked out everything Baptiste will do. When Baptiste does not behave to his expectations, he goes straight to violence, as it’s the only other skill he has. Their relationship has all the hallmarks of being toxic, but What You Left Behind is seeking a degree of understanding, trying to explain why Baptiste would return to someone who is no good for him, and why he nearly recalls to a life of brutality despite being a “good person”. And in the end, almost the only distinction between Mauga the Berserker and Baptiste the Healer is that somewhere inside Baptiste a shred of hope remains.

Baptiste stood, and Mauga stood with him. “Whatever you’re worrying about, don’t. Get in, get it done, and get paid,” Mauga said, only loud enough for Baptiste to hear. He hefted his pair of machine guns, each as tall as a full-grown man, like they weighed nothing. The coolant tanks on his back gleamed in the scant light. He raised his voice, letting it carry across the dropship. “Now, who’s ready to have some fun?”

Nguyen & Sainclair

“You see what I’m up against, Baptiste? I got him a hat, but he won’t wear it.”

Nguyen looked at the panama hat on the bar top like it was the filthiest thing he’d ever seen. There was a pink sunburned stripe across his nose.

For your reference if you are unfamiliar with Nguyen’s name pronunciation:

youtube

At first Talon Senior Analyst Trung Le Nguyen exists to provide an example of a personality that is absolutely repellent to Baptiste, whereas Mauga is an inescapable attraction. Nguyen does not like Baptiste very much either, but there is one other lesson to take from this story: despite Baptiste’s inability to appreciate Nguyen as a person, they are able to work together without issue. Baptiste sees Nguyen as dependable, which makes sense given that Nguyen provided his unit with analysis through all their missions. Nguyen is also more flexible than he may seem, agreeing to meet with Baptiste at Mauga’s insistence despite his own reservations.

Mauga is not as vested in disliking Nguyen as Baptiste. In fact he constantly seems to be trying to rope Nguyen in as he does with most people, but it does not work with Nguyen because Nguyen is impervious to charisma. Despite Mauga and Nguyen not really getting each other like Mauga and Baptiste do, they are also content to work with each other. Mauga and Nguyen also happen to be the only named members of Baptiste’s old unit who are still alive.

We don’t enjoy as deep a look into Nguyen in this story as we do with Mauga, but let’s take a peek at some words and phrases used to describe him from Baptiste’s point of view:

clinical and cold

cold as frostbite

cool, expressionless eyes

[Nguyen’s] voice cut through the air like a knife. Mauga sighed. “Sweet as always.”

From anyone else, the gesture would be courteous. From Nguyen, it felt like a threat.

Nguyen is an easy read as a clinical workaholic, not inclined to emotion, making him a good foil to Mauga’s impulsive brutality. He notably wears the same adequately professional attire, impeccably laundered, day after day. His detachment from excess is strange in Talon, an organization where many of the day-to-day troops are getting their first taste of luxury and end up feasting on it.

But his professionalism cracks toward the end of the story, after he learns that their target Vernand Sainclair has betrayed and murdered Talon forces—the same kinds of grunts as Baptiste and Mauga—stationed at his mansion for his protection, and Vernand further tries to shoot Mauga after promising he is loyal (the bullets ricochet harmlessly off Mauga’s shield and break some windows).

Nguyen stalked forward, Mauga covering him with the shield. “You sent us into a trap. You murdered the forces we stationed here for your protection,” he snarled. Nguyen yanked the gun from Sainclair’s grasp and slammed it onto the desk. “I even set up an appointment. And yet you continue to inconvenience us. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet through your head right now.”

Unlike Mauga, Nguyen appears to display his emotions raw and honestly...it’s just that his most common emotion is disappointment, followed closely by irritation. His anger here probably comes from a variety of sources, but one of the strangest aspects of the story is that Nguyen is on the ground at all. He is an analyst, and despite his John Wick-caliber pistol work, it is not clear why he felt the need to personally handle Sainclair. Nguyen ran analysis for Baptiste’s unit and also for Cuerva’s attempted recovery mission, but it’s not apparent that he has any particular affection for Baptiste...or anyone really. When Baptiste attempts escape, Nguyen’s professional response rules over all others:

There was a gunshot, and pain tore through his left arm. He almost lost his grip on Sainclair. He didn’t have to look to know who had fired that shot, and that he was lucky to have survived.

It is unlikely that Nguyen is any sort of hero candidate at this point, but he is a well-realized accessory to the story and its themes. Everything in What You Left Behind comes in matched pairs—Mauga and Baptiste, Baptiste’s childhood friend Dr. Roseline Mondésir and Dr. Angela Ziegler, Nguyen and Sainclair. But whereas most of these pairs harmonize with each other, exuding similar personalities or goals, Nguyen flatly rejects his counterpart at every turn. Vernand Sainclair is a man of excess, an analyst like Nguyen, but he abhors field work, betrays casually to feed his own self-interest, and like so many members of Talon, he originally worked for Overwatch.

Overwatch & Talon

“You were Overwatch?” Baptiste said, stunned. He’d never met one before. All the dreams he’d had as a teenager, the recruitment poster he hung above his bed at the orphanage, the secret hope that somehow, someday, Overwatch would come in and make everything better. And now one of his childhood heroes stood before him, a man willing to throttle his country to turn a profit and betray his organization to spare his own life.

“I was never in the field. I was just a handler, like you.” Sainclair nodded at Nguyen. “Overwatch always took me for granted. That organization was poisoned from the very start, and the longer I was there, the more I could see that it was slowly rotting from the inside out.”

When the Retribution mission came out, people were quick to note the similarities between the elite Talon units and existing Overwatch agents. The Heavy Assault has a rocket-powered charge just like Reinhardt, the Assassin blinks from perch to perch like Tracer, the Sniper appears in a puff of wraithform smoke. Most fingers ended up pointing at Moira, whose hero profile states:

After Overwatch was disbanded, O'Deorain was forced to turn to unconventional sources of funding. This time, she was invited to join the scientific collective that had founded the city of Oasis. Yet some have whispered that the shadowy Talon organization had already been supporting her for years, aiding her experiments in exchange for utilizing the results for their own purposes. [Hero Profile: Moira]

But What You Left Behind tells us is that the fall of Overwatch and rise of Talon was inevitable, and not the fault of one single betrayer or leak. Towards the end of its life, Overwatch ceased to look like the promise on its recruiting posters—or if you prefer Sainclair’s outlook, Overwatch was never the same as the idea of Overwatch. This also goes back to Mauga’s philosophy: there are no good people anywhere, so even if something like Overwatch was founded with good intentions, the people inside it would eventually fail its honorable mission.

Blackwatch enjoys an especially close connection with Talon. We learn in the story that Talon HQ is in Rome, which is also where the Blackwatch facility was located until it was destroyed by a Talon bombing eight years ago. The Blackwatch Commander and his attending geneticist both became Talon council members, the top sniper in Talon is the widow of a Blackwatch agent, and as we previously saw in Train Hopper many Blackwatch grunts happily became Talon grunts.

But Overwatch also created Talon operatives whenever it failed to reach out enough, such as in Haiti. And Nguyen’s reflective examination of the Recall dossiers at the end of the story also suggests that some existing agents or some who have yet to officially respond may actually be traitors lying in wait.

The mirror of Overwatch and Talon is not as simple as saying “Actually Overwatch is really the evil one!!!111″ Talon is a bunch of terrorists and profiteers. In fact this story tells us that Talon has the exact same issue Overwatch did: it has leaders like Doomfist invested in powerful ideals and visions of the world, but the rank-and-file like Baptiste and Mauga end up engaging in the same petty ravaging that armies have since the beginning of time. The Council is never sharing their entire hand with the grunts either, trusting that their lofty ideals will be accomplished on the backs of handsome mercenary payments.

At this point maybe it’s easy to throw up our hands and say “okay, everything is bad, so why care about any of it?” That’s the exact conclusion Mauga reached. But Baptiste thinks differently. After forcibly escaping Mauga’s clutches at the end of the story, he reviews the Overwatch dossiers and recognizes Dr. Angela Ziegler. They met in their travels because of one shared idea: that they wanted to help communities in need, without violence. Baptiste goes on to recognize how Mercy is very like the local clinic doctor in Port-de-Paix, and very unlike her glossy image on the Overwatch recruitment posters. It is because of his personal connection and personally witnessed strength that he reaches out to her, and not because of an ideal or a formless dream.

I think what the story is trying to get at here is that any organization, regardless of name or mission, is only as good as the people in it. There isn’t good and evil, Overwatch and Talon—there are individuals, and all of them have relationships just as complicated as the one between Baptiste and Mauga.

The Middle East Scenario

Baptiste tapped the glowing dot marking her last known position on the map. He’d thought that Overwatch was dead, but maybe it wasn’t. If Talon was coming for Dr. Ziegler, then she had a right to know. He’d need help tracking her down, but luckily, he knew just who to ask.

Baptiste opened an encrypted app on his phone, entered the password, and hit the call button on the bottom of the screen. It only rang twice before a familiar voice came through the speaker. “Hey, mijo. It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Sombra,” he said, looking at Dr. Ziegler’s profile. “Can you do me a favor?”

Time to gossip about god programs again, yippee!!!

A couple things about this section: 1) It’s going to be more speculative than the others by necessity, so feel free to ignore it!, 2) Ultimately I don’t know what the plot is here...just admitting that up front. I do make a guess though!

So recent Overwatch media has a pattern of introducing a tease at the end. The Blizzardworld map trailer showed Winston, Tracer, Bastion, and Torbjörn chilling in a living room at the end. Reunion ended with Echo. Storm Rising ended by introducing some omnic no one has ever seen before. And What You Left Behind ends by introducing Baptiste’s friendship with Sombra and indicating that he is shipping off to find Mercy with her help. Some of these teases contribute to what I am going to call the “Middle East Scenario”, where a lot of plot threads seem to be orbiting around the Middle East and Mercy, with the potential for converging.

First let’s look at what individuals are actively pursuing Mercy:

Ana & Soldier 76 - Soldier has a documented aversion to Mercy in Bastet, but in the follow-up animation Bastet Rises, Ana ends up hauling his useless carcass all the way to Mercy’s doorstep. Bastet tells us that Ana for some reason knows where Mercy is, and Soldier’s wounds in Bastet (from an attack by Reaper in Old Soldiers—still with me?) are not healing correctly, necessitating a slightly more advanced medical approach than Ana’s field stitching. I guess you could argue the canonicity of Bastet Rises, but it was commissioned by Blizzard and I’m pretty sure that Genjicat in the final shot is the only wink-wink.

Baptiste - Of course What You Left Behind ends with Baptiste seeking Mercy out to warn her of Talon’s interest in her and the other former agents. He’s checking for a physical location, so he probably intends to meet her in person. The only complication here is timing: Baptiste’s story takes place three days after the Recall, the events of Bastet take place around the same time as Reflections (where you can see Ana and Soldier moping together at Christmas), so whatever Baptiste is doing he’s either taking a really scenic route to Mercy or he actually meets her separately from Ana and Soldier meeting her. Reflections also shows us that Mercy is still chilling in a tent somewhere, so if anybody has met with her they have yet to disrupt her post-Overwatch routine of traveling from one humanitarian mission to another.

Reaper - In a general sense Reaper operates as Talon’s executioner and would be seeking Mercy for that reason. Baptiste seems to think Talon is a very present threat at the end of the story, though he may not know Reaper personally. There is a second reason Reaper may show up at Mercy’s house, which is his pursuit of Ana and Soldier. Soldier specifically worries about staying in one place too long because of Reaper in Bastet.

Sombra - Likely to be in touch with the good doctor, at least virtually, due to Baptiste calling in a favor. Baptiste and Sombra met while they were both working at Talon, per the Developer Q&A.

Next we should consider what other forces are operating regionally or who otherwise might get pulled into Mercy’s orbit:

Pharah & Helix Security - From Bastet we know Ana has written a letter to Pharah, but Pharah has yet to respond. Soldier speculates that Ana will request Pharah to manage some artifacts at the Necropolis, and encourages her to contact Pharah again. If Pharah does seek out Ana, the trail will inevitably lead her to Mercy. Helix Security, the private military Pharah works for, is also active in the post-Recall timeline. The Anubis god program broke out of a Helix facility, and so did Doomfist, quite effortlessly. Despite this there is nothing currently indicating Helix is a Talon puppet. Talon has an interest in their properties but has been unable to access them freely. Reaper notes that Helix is unaware of the true value of what they are guarding. It’s hard to imagine Helix being unaware of the importance of keeping Doomfist imprisoned, which along with Sombra’s involvement suggests Talon’s interest is in a software asset—Anubis, or something like it.

Helix Security should have upgraded the Anubis facility after we took it over a few years back. And now the worst has happened—or it’s about to. The Anubis A.I.—one of the “god programs” Overwatch quarantined after the Omnic Crisis—broke its containment at 2300 hours.

Anubis - Pharah and her team destroyed Anubis in Mission Statement. Ten years before that, Overwatch quarantined Anubis for the first time. Overwatch’s intervention led Egypt into a state of famine and ruin, which suggests very strongly that Anubis was originally some sort of post-Crisis A.I. infrastructure initiative. In fact the first panel of Old Soldiers shows some graffiti on a wall that reads “A.I. is our right”. It seems that whatever Overwatch did, they not only goofed it up hard, but that their intervention was not necessarily desired in the first place. A further incident occurs in Cairo three years after Overwatch’s Anubis intervention, while the humanitarian crisis is in full swing, but no details are given—it’s a background headline in the Uprising comic. By the time Mission Statement comes to pass, the Anubis A.I. was badly malfunctioning and its containment facility lacked the necessary security upgrades to handle it (remember Reaper’s comment about Helix not knowing what they are guarding...). We don’t know what Anubis was like when Overwatch originally intervened in its operation, but we do know that the humanitarian crisis sparked by that intervention was of special concern to both Mercy and Ana. Even with all this information, I feel like there is a catalyst missing. After all, Anubis is dead, and Talon has not been successful in getting whatever it is they want out of Helix Security’s protection. But Storm Rising may have offered the missing piece...

We learn that Doomfist is in collusion with whoever that mysterious omnic gentleman was. […] No, he’s not a part of Talon. […] Even though we’re in the past here, we’re learning about something that’s coming up, that’s unfolding… We know there’s going to be a minor detour because Doomfist has to spend a few years in jail because he’s going to get captured shortly after this. But then, the plan will unfold. [Jeff Kaplan]

Storm Rising Mystery Omnic - There are multiple reasons to believe this omnic is a member of Null Sector, but the remaining weirdness to his appearance is that he meets Doomfist in Egypt. Why would either Null Sector or Doomfist be in Egypt? The only clue we have is Jeff’s comment, that the two of them had a plan to execute six years ago, but it got put on hold after Doomfist was jailed. The possibility exists that this plan requires access to a powerful infrastructure A.I. like Anubis, and what we see in Old Soldiers is that Talon is trying to get access to property guarded by Helix Security... It would be interesting if Overwatch’s apparent mistake in Egypt came back to haunt them ten years later. There’s a lot of ghosts in this game.

Moira & Oasis - A lot of these orbiting issues are centralized in Egypt, but Mercy’s position on the map in Recall is closer to Iraq. We know she isn’t precisely in Oasis because Oasis is hardly the site of a humanitarian crisis, but it’s not unfathomable that she would know people working there. That includes the Minister of Genetics, Moira, who is also on the Talon council, and who also gets regular visits from Reaper to further treat his condition. If, say, Soldier 76 showed up on Mercy’s doorstep with a stubborn wound caused by Reaper, the temptation might be there to reach out to Moira to help treat him. One of the weirdest unresolved plot threads in Overwatch is also potentially connected to Oasis—Dr. Hamid Faisal, whose excavations at Petra and Ayutthaya make use of Oasis-style drones. Faisal works for an unknown benefactor, and also has work at Ilios, a site from which Talon has been attempting to steal artifacts. As revealed in Bastet, Ana also knows Faisal and has a favorable opinion of his work.

Genji - Genji, you say? Well at the time of Reflections we know Genji is aware of Mercy’s location since he is writing her a physical letter that presumably is addressed and mailed and not just delivered by a dragon Fed-Ex. He and Zenyatta appear to be chilling in Nepal (geddit), but there is nothing saying Genji isn’t going to walk over for a visit sometime. Wouldn’t it be just fun if he happened to arrive at the same time as all this other stuff was going down? Zenyatta could come too and enter directly into the middle of this big vengeful Old Soldiers plot and save some lives! What? No? Okay, back to my corner then.

In speculative conclusion: another animated short ala Infiltration, introducing a new hero (MO?) while simultaneously advancing the plot? There are a lot of moving pieces here though, and a lot of characters to render in an 8-10 min runtime. Bear in mind that Mission Statement was originally supposed to be an animated short and was cancelled for similar reasons. So there might be some additional media interventions building up to some showpiece cinematic.

But know that I will always consume and digest to a paste more short stories and comics Blizz, you can count on me!

References

What You Left Behind [short story]

Cuerva Strike Team - Log Recovered [blog post]

Venice Memorandum Declassification [blog post]

Baptiste Developer Q&A [forums discussion]

Baptiste [hero profile]

Baptiste [origin story]

Mercy [hero profile]

Moira [hero profile]

Sombra [hero profile]

Storm Rising [voicelines/cinematics]

Storm Rising [Creator Residency stream] (Jeff Kaplan/OhNickel/Fareeha - 2019.4.16)

Bastet [short story]

Bastet Rises [animation] (by Dillongoo, commissioned by Blizzard Entertainment)

Train Hopper [comic]

Mission Statement [comic]

Old Soldiers [comic]

Reflections [comic]

Masquerade [comic]

Uprising [comic]

Retribution [comic]

Recall [cinematic]

#overwatch #baptiste #mauga #nguyen #myrestxt

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