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natashasbanner · 4 years

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Prompt: Post Endgame. Tony lives. What if when the snap was reversed Natasha actually woke up, but she died on an alien planet, so now she's without food, water, and no way to contact her family. How is she going to get home?

Lost

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Natasha woke with a sharp intake of breath.

She didn’t open her eyes right away, but instead mentally took stock of any injuries, but came to the conclusion that she was fine. She remembered falling, forcing Clint to drop her from the cliff, but she didn’t remember hitting the ground.

Finally she opened her eyes and stared up at the strange atmosphere of the planet. Slowly, she sat up and looked up at the cliff she’d fallen from. She should be dead, there’s no doubt about it. But here she was alive and mostly uninjured.

“Where the hell is that guy in the cloak when you need him?” Natasha muttered to herself, as she pushed herself up from the ground.

She checked the comm panel on her suit, but it was cracked and completely busted and the device Tony had given them to navigate the quantum realm was gone.

Panic began to set in as she continued to look around the baren wasteland of a planet she was trapped on. She was stranded on a planet with no life other than the floating “guardian of the stone” that she was almost certain wasn’t actually alive. There was nothing on this planet that could sustain life for any amount of time. Add to that fact that Natasha was almost a decade behind her timeline and everyone who knew she was here had presumably returned to their present under the assumption that she was dead.

In short, Natasha was fucked.

But the thing she didn’t understand is why she was still alive, or back from the dead in the first place. The cloaked guy made it clear, in order get the soul stone, you had to lose something you loved. It was permanent, yet here she stood.

And what did that mean for the mission? Would they be able keep the stone if she was alive?

Natasha shook her head. It was all too much and she needed to find a way off this planet.

She looked back up the cliff and decided it was her best chance of finding a way home. She just had to figure out to get up there.

That’s how she spent the better the next few hours trying to make it up the cliff to no effect. After her latest attempt she was completely exhausted. She dropped back onto the stone ground and stared up the face of the cliff. It mocked her with its sheer impossibility to scale even if she hadn’t been exhausted.

She had to get the hell off this planet and climbing out was becoming less and less of an option. Frustrated, she pushed herself from the ground and started pacing. She just needed to focus and come up with a plan. She glanced at her cracked communicator, there was no hope of fixing it especially considering her desolate surroundings.

She needed to find Tony’s device, it was her only hope of getting back to her own time. But first she needed to rest, try to recoup some of her energy before she became completely useless. If she weren’t on an alien planet the lack of food and water wouldn’t be a problem, she’d gone days at a time on missions hunkered down with no food and a limited supply of water. This place was different.

Natasha laid down on the stone, looking up at the clouds over head. She wondered how the team was doing on Earth. Did they get the rest of the stones and bring everyone back? Were they mourning her presumed death, preparing a funeral?

She shook her head, banishing the thoughts. They got the stones, there was no doubt in her mind and completed the mission. That’s all that mattered. Her eyelids grew heavy the longer she laid there until she couldn’t fight it any longer.

She drifted off think of the team getting back to their lives and everyone who’d been snapped away adjusting to the new world. It’s a comforting thought and before she knew it she was asleep.

“You’ll have to return the stones to the exact moment they were taken,” Bruce reminded Steve as he stood on the smaller version of the platform they’d used to collect the stones in the first place.

It had been almost a week since they’d brought everyone back and had the huge showdown with past Thanos. Everyone who’d disappeared five years ago was returned home and they got the job done. The world was healing, you could feel it in the air, but Bruce felt a crushing hole in his heart.

Natasha was gone and Tony was in the hospital and it was up in the air as whether or not he was going to wake up. And on top of that, after Bruce snapped he’d lost Hulk while everyone was brought back. It had been a gradual loss as the battle went on and by the end he was just himself again.

After he’d finally found the balance for them to coexist peacefully Hulk was gone, for good this time. For all the years he’d spent resenting the Hulk, he never expected to feel that loss as acutely as he was.

Bruce felt lost.

“You okay?”

Bruce blinked a few times and looked up to see Steve watching him. His expression was soft, a complete contrast to the no nonsense look he wore a minute ago.

He cleared his throat and adjusted a few settings on the control panel needlessly.

“I’m fine.” He looked back up at Steve who was still looking at him like he might shatter at any moment. “Are you ready?”

Steve stared for a moment longer before straightening up and setting his shoulders. “You sure you don’t want to come along?”

“I’ve had enough time travel for the time being,” he said patting his arm the was in a sling, strapped against his chest. “Just get the stones back where they belong.”

Steve nodded, his jaw set as Bruce initiated the quantum tunnel to open. After Steve disappeared Bruce started counting down the ten seconds it would take Steve to return. His attention was so focused on the panel and the throbbing pain in his arm, he didn’t realized that it wasn’t Steve who returned on the platform until he heard the gasps from Sam and Bucky.

When Bruce looked up, his heart jumped into his throat and he almost dropped to his knees where he stood. Natasha was laying on the platform, her eyes were open and glazed over but she was breathing.

Sam and Bucky were at her side before Bruce could move.

“She needs a hospital,” Sam said, looking up at Bruce with a mixture of shock and panic in his eyes.

Bruce shook himself out of his shock induced stupor and rushed over to the platform.

“Get her to the car, I’ll drive,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Sam lifted her from the platform and carried her to the car, Bruce right behind him. Over Sam’s shoulder, Natasha held a hand and Bruce reached out to hold her fingers. He held on until Sam sat her up in the back seat of Bruce’s car and buckled her in.

Sam closed the door as Bruce fished the keys out of his pocket.

“How is this possible,” Sam asked in a whisper, looking at Bruce with misty eyes.

Bruce shook his head and climbed into the car. “I don’t know.”

He typed the nearest hospital into the his GPS and sped away. A hundred questions running through his mind as he urged the car to go faster and faster. He wasn’t entirely convinced that the wasn’t an extremely vivid dream.

“Bruce?”

It came out as a hoarse whisper and Bruce looked in the rearview mirror to see Natasha watching him. Her eyes were a little more focused while she was slumped against the door.

“Don’t try to talk,” he said softly. “Just rest, we’re almost to the hospital.”

She nodded and rested her head against the window.

Bruce pulled right up to the emergency room doors and got Natasha out of the car as carefully as he could and took her inside. After talking to the triage desk, they rushed her into the ER and Bruce was led to a waiting room. He sat there alone for what felt like hours spiralling in his own head.

All the questions he’d pushed aside on the drive to the hospital came flooding back until Bruce felt like he might hyperventilate.

How was this possible? Was the most pressing one. Clint had said the trade for the stone was permanent, a soul for a soul. Unless when Bruce tried to bring her back when he snapped actually worked, but that was crazy.

Bruce’s head hurt by the time someone finally came to find him in the waiting room.

“How is she?” he asked, jumping up from his seat.

“She’s resting,” the doctor told him. “She was dehydrated and has a some superficial injuries but she should make a full recovery.”

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief and dropped back into the waiting room chair. “Thank you.”

“Her room’s at the end of the hall,” she said, “last door on the left.”

He nodded and she left the room. Bruce just sat for a long time before he pushed himself to his feet. He made his way down the hall and knocked on the open door before stepping inside.

Natasha turned her head from where she’d been looking out the window.

“Hey,” he said softly and pulled a chair over to the side of her bed.

“Hey.”

Her voice was stronger than it had been in the car, some of her color had returned too.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said and reached her hand out from under her blanket to squeeze his fingers.

Bruce turned his hand over so he could lace their fingers together. Feeling her calloused palm against his and hearing the steady beat of her heart from the monitor grounded him, made that dream-like haze that fogged his mind since she’d appeared on the platform begin to fade. He was left with the startling, gut wrenching reality that Natasha was there, right across from him, very much alive.

“We thought you were dead,” he admitted, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

She chuckled softly. “I was, but then I woke up.”

“If we knew you were still out there, we would have come sooner.”

“I know.”

They sat in silence for a long time, the rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor the only sound in the room. He noticed Natasha’s fighting her heavy eyelids and brought their joined up to kiss the back of her hand.

“You should get some sleep,” he said and tried to let go of her hand but she held on tight.

“Don’t go.”

Her eyes were closed but her grip was tight, not that he planned on going anywhere anytime soon.

“The others are going to want to know you’re okay,” he whispered.

“Tomorrow,” she muttered, but it was barely audible over the sound of the monitor.

He kissed her knuckles again and held her hand in his lap as she finally lost the battle with sleep. He watched her for a while, still not entirely convinced this wasn’t all in his head, before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.

Tomorrow this room was going to be filled to the brim with the rest of the team the second they found out that she was alive. He thought about telling them tonight, but figured Natasha needed more time to rest before she faced everyone. He was slowly losing his own battle with sleep and squeezed Natasha’s hand one last time before he let his own exhaustion take him.

“Please don’t be a dream,” he whispered into the quiet room before drifting off.

And to his surprise, when he opened his eyes the next morning she was still there, their fingers still loosely linked in his lap. He smiled to himself and that hole he’d felt in his heart started to mend.

#brucenat #hulkwidow #brutasha #fic #please enjoy :D #Anonymous

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brooklynislandgirl · 4 years

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It Gets You Coming and Going: Of all moral dilemmas, what's one that truly stumps you and why? {ginglymostoma cirratum}

Questionable Quotes || Accepting The question is posed in so very Anakin a way that it almost hurts for simply existing. There’s layers built up between the syllables that only someone who knows him well enough can pick out, and only the very rare amongst them that can tell you where they came from. The deepest is the bedrock of his anxiety, that deep down he believes himself so unworthy that it’s compressed down into the core of him and become the basic foundation of the rest of his personality. Closer to the surface is the silt of fear that he’s said the wrong thing and has reached the tether of her seemingly infinite patience with him. That she’s finally going to snap and savage him with tooth and claw, glutting on the softness of his emotional state until all that is left is something that once resembled the bones of his resolve. And she knows she’s mixing metaphors here but that’s how she conceptualises the things about Anakin she can’t pin to a board and press under glass. Not that she would ever do that, she finds it horrifying and cruel, especially when not that proverbially long ago collectors would do that to living specimens, murdering them with chloroform. Ether. She keeps from curling her lip.

And maybe for those few precious seconds when she can feel his gaze sliding off her and back to the edge of the water, so extremely uncomfortable in his own skin, she empathises with him. Finds it easier to make this about wanting to view himself through the prismatic lens he’s made of her, where every fractured splinter can be compared to the raw emptiness that sometimes fills his own mind and pushes everything out of the way. So he can lose himself in his perceptions ~and she can tell, so easily, when he is sinking in the stream of Time, which is almost always~ and escape for just a little while from the weight of everything resting on too fragile shoulders.

It’s entirely possible, too, and dangerously so that she interprets a good many of their conversations this way, focuses the spotlight on Anakin rather than herself because the idea of introspection makes her a little queasy. That she herself hides behind all the preconceived notions that people have of her that she twists and bends herself to fit into because without them she would be as shapeless as the infinite void of the darkness that lingers at the very edge of the Horizon in the deepest umbral reaches.

And of course she would also never admit to maybe spending too much time dwelling on the reasons why the question wounds her as a means of putting emotional distance and actual thought far out of the way ~out of sight, out of mine. Because it is not the easiest thing to answer. In fact she isn’t sure there’s one that would capture intent as much as interpretation.

The problem with morality as it would be defined by most people is that it is an arbitrary system. An socio-artificial construct that puts a distinction between right and wrong, or good and bad behaviour. And much like consensual reality, the guidelines of such behaviour are dictated by people. And all people are fallible. Even the Holy Father, though he’s not supposed to be.

There are other factors to consider as well. Does he mean specifically as the question relates to Sleepers? Does he mean as it relates to the Awakened as they, master and apprentice, are? If they are speaking about the masses, then are there certain cultural borders they’re straying across? What is good for one group of society is clearly not very often understood by others and so what might be wrong or atrocious in belief may have mitigating circumstances if viewed outside of one’s own group. Then of course there’s the difference between an individual's moral dilemmas and ethical ones, which are similar but still vastly different. Not unlike the Traditions versus the Technocratic Union. And this is obviously not what Anakin means because he’s never seen the heated debates that often took a twist at the dinner table between herself and her brothers.

She wants to tell him, that of course, there’s all of these factors to be taken into consideration. Wants to ask him what he means ~specifically~ in regards to whose morals are being questioned and she knows too that by doing so she will somehow manage to trample his self-worth because he’ll judge himself as not having spoken clearly enough, slowly or carefully enough. That he did not adequately set up the scenario and thus given her something incomplete to work with. There will come a stunning display of beautiful if heartbreaking physical manifestations of that internal grief and she might actually expire from the grief of it all. And she isn’t being nasty about it, she isn’t mocking him in that breath of silence as she considers all of this. It is something that she’s come to experience in the almost year that they have spent bound together by practice and...funnily enough...tradition. And she likes to think she knows Anakin this well by now, that however hard he tries to hide it, she will see.

She reaches into the bucket beside her and takes a hold of another chunk of meat and tosses it out across the murky water. It lands with a specific and yet sad little plop before disappearing below the surface. She watches the way his cigarette smoke rises up to wreathe around his curls a little wild tousled today. It’s a little ironic that she could see him as a dragon, and maybe there’s some Mokolé blood in his family tree, as much as there is shark in hers. But he’s still reserved enough that he doesn’t stick his converse down over the side of the decrepit little dock they’re on. To be fair, his legs are far longer, far too close to the dark, algae choked surface. He’s never had his calf nearly torn right off the bone and probably doesn’t need that experience. Not with his hand in the state it’s in, the way cold and weariness make his bones and joints ache with nothing to compensate for it.

And that’s the point where she realises that now she’s just stalling, letting herself drift along the paths of thought, further and further away from the question asked. So she breathes out a sigh and allows a soft curve settle to her lips that is neither exactly a smile or even a smaller grin. It’s something along the lines of patience made manifest, her natural inclination toward indulging Anakin, and it’s also...tired. The kind of thing that appears when she’s worked herself to the bone and hasn’t slept for days but continues to push herself until she’s at the exact point of inevitable collapse. And how often does she do that more and more these days. Doesn’t even try to make it to her room when he’s just as comfortable as his bed and far warmer even if it’s a slightly unhealthy symptom of his body’s attempt to keep his extremities in life-giving blood. She leans back, wiggling her toes out in front of her, though her legs are still covered by the broom-skirt she’s wearing, arms bracing herself from behind, slick and red, sure to leave prints she’ll have to clean up before they leave. “I don’ t’ink dis really a fair question, Anakin. I mean... dere’s factors. A precise synt’esis would define culture as a body of ideas; norms, rules, standards, values, an’ beliefs. So dat different cultures would derefore have different moral an’ et’ical impact. An’ mebbe even between one generation an’ anoddah, like dem boomers an’ millennials. I mean, you an’ me are kinda li’dat too, as technically I’m a millennial an’ you’re Gen Z. Between all people dere’s dis enforced, learned social norm dat are symbolically an’ practically reinforced an’ referenced in displays dat signal adherence to any specific system. Now, I know ya no talk story about all kine people, ya specifically aks me ‘bout my own issue an’ I guess...” She trails off trying to regather herself. When she speaks again she does that thing she does when she thinks something is important enough to give him the best chance of understanding her, but that slows her speech, gives it a brittle edge.

“Even as hapa ~being half Hawai’ian~ my mother taught me about kuleana. Loosely translated it means “responsibility”. It’s dis concept of reciprocal relationships between the person who is responsible, an’ the things or persons they are responsible for. As Hawai’ians, we have a kuleana to our ‘aina, our land. To care for it and to respect it, and in return... the land has the kuleana to feed, shelter and clothe us. Through that relationship we maintain balance within society and with the natural environment. But you look at the world and everything is for sale, raped by greed and the need to consume. To conform. This... this is a sign of what my uncle’s people call the Apocalypse, but not like in disaster movies. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll tell you all about that.

“Another concept is...Pono. There’s no real translation for it, it’s a concept that incorporates many things. But many people use it to imply righteousness, but not like the way it’s used in society today. For us, anyway, it’s a very strong cultural and spiritual concept for a state of harmony and balance. So you can see how they relate? By accepting your kuleana and making sure you act on them in the right way, you are living pono. Living pono means to make a conscious decision to do the right thing in terms of self, others, and the environment. And we make no distinction between human and animal or plant, in that way.” She slants that hazel gaze toward him via one eye slitted open to make sure he’s following along. “And I don’t mean that cutting down a tree is the same as say murder. But in a way, it is. You are killing something that was alive. You are taking its mana. If you do it with proper thanks and reverence, if you ensure that you are doing it sustainably, to feed yourself or build a shelter for your family, then you’re behaving within your kuleana. But clear-cutting an entire rain-forest so you can build a luxury golf-course and resort, displacing thousands and thousands of indigenous wild life and polluting the waters and destroying layers and layers of earth, not to mention the risk of exposing entire tribes of people who have no natural resistance to what are common, immunised illnesses? That is no different than slaughtering those very same lives in a far more expedient way. And I don’t know if you think I’m crazy, or if I am over-simplifying the tragedy that we as an entire world of people are creating and contributing to but you can see...the earth herself is restless. She is angry. And those throes of agony ~the global warming, the spirits crying out, the violence and disease...they are all symptoms of that anger, because people as a whole have lost their way. They trust too much in technology and in coping mechanisms that only breed more trouble...”

She’s momentarily lost in the weeds, but there’s no denying the passion in her voice as it trembles with pure and unbridled rage at society’s ills. And not just the ones that have landed on the Sleepers whom they are, in their own ways, charged with protecting, but the ones amongst their own kind and those of the others. “So I suppose, the dilemma I just cannot begin to understand is...with so much happening, and the world around us vanishing with every breath...why are we unable to reach an understanding. Why do we have to fight this war about whose mana is bigger, is better than someone else’s. And not just the Traditions ourselves. Our infighting is bad but we can typically talk things out. I specifically mean this war with the Technocrats. Their science isn’t doing much to improve lives these days and more and more people are looking for alternatives, for the Old Ways. Why not work with us instead of trying to kill or imprison us? Or why can’t some of us... Verbena and Dreamspeakers... some of you Euthanatos- why can’t we make a pact with the Wolfkin. Or the last of the lizard kings-” She glances askance at him a second time in a very playful and knowing fashion. Which is disturbing considering the nature of the remains in the ice chest she was tossing into the water just moments ago. “It isn’t like some of us hasn’t been busy keeping their kin fed. So I think just like the Traditions coming together, or the Technocrats forming their union, maybe it’s time we put political and spiritual beliefs to the side and just work together for the things we want. We’re all really trying to fight the same enemy, and I promise it isn’t you, and it isn’t me and it isn’t Bil..it isn’t any one person. There is evil out there. Real, terrifying evil. Take this guy. What he did to those kids...He was a disease. And like the healer I am and like...like the man you will some day become, we did what was right, for everyone.” Beth shudders then shakes her head. “I don’t even know how to answer your question, or if I did. All I can say is...there’s no part of me that has any shame for the way I live my life, and therefore there’s no moral dilemma. But if one comes up, I promise you’ll be the first line of defense for my understanding and sanity.”

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dianadragonfly · 5 years

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Okay, hang on bitches, cause Imma bout ta rewatch “The Final Problem.” I’ve seen it once since 2017. And because there is no commentary on the disc I have, I will be providing the commentary.

[[MORE]] Since I started my “rewatch and comment” spree, I’ve been pleasantly surprised. Things that had previously stood out in my mind as being particularly not-good are really not that bad. Most were actually really short moments that stood out in retrospect because they seemed incongruous with how well-written and acted everything else was.

Up till season 2, the writers could do no wrong whatsoever. The exact moment I experienced a “well that was overdone” moment of questioning the writers was when Sherlock broadcast a picture of Mary on the outside of the facade in “His Last Vow.” From there, I had moments of doubt and questioning plot and directing choices that took away from the narrative. But, except for the moment John sees Mary die, I never ever questioned the acting choices. The actors are so amazing. And I’m not just saying that because Ben and Martin are hot.

As I prepare to watch the episode, there are several scenes that I dread. Opening with the girl on the airplane reminds me of how much I hated this trick. If the girl is Eurus messing with them, then why do we see it acted out? If we cannot trust that what we see is a reality, then all of the “Mind Palace” theories of TFP (i.e. that it actually took place in a dream or in the head of a character) have some authenticity to them. Ugh.

Damn. I’d forgotten the “Hello. My name is Jim Moriarty” part of the intro. No need for that if the girl is just something in Eurus’s imagination.

Oh shit. I hate hate hate hate everything about this scene of Mycroft.

First of all, there is security in Mycroft’s house.

Second of all, he would have skewered any of those actors with the umbrella sword or shot one of them with the gun.

Why are the paintings crying blood? John and Sherlock couldn’t accomplish that... once we add scary clown it’s just too much. Even for Sherlock.

Oh stop with the heavy-handed East Wind references. Dammit, I loved this show for its subtly. Killer clowns are not subtle, even in pranks.

Now with Mycroft here, in the client position, refusing to sit, with the Baker Street Boys in their chairs - this is what I came for. The light, the look on their faces, the composition of the shot.

Oohh Hudson throwing some shade. John’s half smile...

Is the skull portrait glowing? I can’t tell.

“That’s why he stays!” Fuck yeah. John’s half smile again...

“Middle child. Explains a lot.” As a middle child, I resent that remark. And sort of get it.

So the flashing back and forth in time, with the ashes of Musgrave Hall in the apartment, 5 year old Eurus answering grown-up Mycroft’s questions, the pebble: all of that would be okay, if not a tiny bit less than subtle, had we not just fought a goddamn clown in the scene before.

Oh goddamn. The stupid fucking patience gernade and that song.

Of course Mrs. Hudson vacuums to Iron Maiden.

It’s Sherlock’s turn to half-smile. Cute.

Beautifully shot here with the above view and all three of them at different points on a circle around it.

Ugh. I have to turn away at the “action shot” of them jumping out the window. This is not “Die Hard.” It’s not a cop buddy movie. We just got a really well played, fun little scene where they talked a about Oscar Wilde to avoid talking about the fact that they might die. That’s what I watch Sherlock for.

There was a fan fic written around 2012 that mentions “The Importance of Being Ernest.” Coincidence? Creators reading fanfic? I know Wilde and ACD were contemporaries, but it’s interesting. I can’t think of any other literary works that are alluded to in canon. It’s funny it should be this one.

And now we’ve commandeered a boat. Seriously.

All of the other episodes, I had more patience with on this go-around where I get a chance to type out reactions and reflect on how they are put together. But I’m finding that isn’t the case with this one. I’m just pissed. Give me one or two unbelievable moments or plot twists in an episode and I can sustain it. But between the airplane, killer clowns at Mycroft’s, the patience gernade, and this, I’m already done and we’re 20 minutes in. Sherlock looks like a goddamn vampire bat. And seriously, why does Mycroft need to steal a boat? And write a message in the sand? What the hell? Why dress up?

Sherlock’s security guard act cracks me up.

Oh his face when he sees Eurus. His. Face. Curiosity. Heartbreak. Empathy. Pain. Doubt. Fear. THIS is my show. Not patience gernades, killer clowns, dressing up like a sea captain etc in one damn episode.

She “enslaves” people... magical Eurus who makes people kill their family. Really?!

Oh no. He ignores “Vatican cameos.” I forgot that. He chooses to ignore John’s warning.

His face.... Jesus Benedict can act.

Big bouncy red alert! Okay, what was with the spinning John face when he gets knocked out?

This constant shift between wondering what the hell is happening, wondering if the show has become a parody of itself, and then bouncing back to this heart wrenching narrative — is that the point of this episode? Like “The Empty Hearse” or “The Abominable Bride”? But those episodes explained themselves after they pulled the rug out. As soon as something got to the point of absurdity, it was explained. Sherlock didn’t swing in a window at Bart’s and kiss Molly but we briefly were led to believe he did. Moriarty and Sherlock aren’t really kissing on the roof. (By then we knew what was up though). Sherlock didn’t really attempt to dig up a dead Amelia Rocoletti. We understand it’s a drug-induced dream.

This rapid jumping back and forth with half-assed explainations — I’m coming to believe this off-balance feeling is the point of the episode but I don’t like it. I like it even less than I did before.

Oh Andrew Scott. I love you.

The bastards wait till 5 minutes into the Moriarty scene to tell us it’s 5 years ago. That constant pulling out the rug — I will at least excuse that because there is a plausible explaination given. But it’s a cheap trick. This episode is one cheap trick after another, with only a few moments, here and there, of characters actually interacting.

So it’s late and I don’t know if I have the heart to make it through this whole episode tonight. To be continued....

Edited:

Starting at scene 5 on the DVD because that's when Sherlock sees Eurus for the sort of first time. I kind of just want to bask in Ben's performance here again.

After the last episode, clean-shaven Sherlock in a suit is a relief. He's back... at least a little.

His small smile when he asks her how she got out. . .

I'm realizing how much of this scene had to be Benedict looking directly into the camera and talking to Eurus. That had to be intimidating.

***I've skipped ahead to closer than where I was last night because the small people in my house will want food soon. Parentig gets in the way of fangirling. ****

I still love the Hungry Donkey story.

OH MY GOD! I forgot how much I love Andrew Scott here!!!

Are they making out through the glass?

And now the four of them wake up in a cell but this one has glass. Ugh. The plane again. I love how Sherlock changes his voice here to talk to the girl. He isn't incapable of reading people and reacting to them. He just usually can't be bothered. There’s a fan theory that says Sherlock is autistic. I was going to comment that this skill of his is evidence that he’s not but I stopped myself. He -knows- HOW one needs to act to get people to respond to him, but it’s a learned skill. Which actually might add evidence to the “autism” theory more than the sociopath theory.

Mark Gatiss - I forget what an incredible actor he can be. Whoa.

These scenes - these scenes where they have to apply themselves to a task that Eurus sets for them -- they are so fucking good. Tense and well-acted. I can see every emotion on every actor's face. The rest of the episode should have been better to make it worthy of these performances. It physically hurt watching John try to shoot the governor.

Someone said that Jim Moriarty went from a criminal mastermid to manical Thomas the Train Engine on this episode and I can't unthink that any time he flashes on the screen.

I had a moment, when Eurus was using such clinical language of behavioralism ("prompts") etc that I flashed back onto my life as an ABA instructor. Seriously. I know they are a million miles away but no one watching this would ever think, even for a second, that Eurus was morally right. Why, then, do we do a smiliar thing to autistic children? I had a moment of revulsion then. (Restirct physical liberty and autonomy, make them complete a command that's nonsensical for either reward or aversive. Give prompts. Follow through (deny reward) if one deviates from the prompt). She might as well been saying "Touch table, Sherlock." ("Touch table" is one of the first directives often given in ABA. It's easy to manually prompt (force) a kid to do and helps the kid realize the link between following the requests and obtaining rewards.)

Sorry. ABA rant is slightly off topic.

To be continued in comments ..

#bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #martin freeman #johnlock #the final problem #andrew scott

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ninzied · 5 years

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Kastle in Vermont

home is where the—

[warning: minor character death. sorry, anon! i didn’t know how to not make this at least a little bit angsty.

also, all the thanks to @heidiamalia for being my daredevil/punisher encyclopedia.]

…

She can't remember the last time she stepped foot on this sad patch of grass off of Route 296.

(She can. She does. That's what you do, Karen.)

Matt had tried to come with her. But she still hasn't told him the truth – she's been meaning to, but. The right time has never come up, and she knows that it's just an excuse, but if there was ever a wrong time to tell him, now would certainly qualify.

Hey, Matt. You asked me, once, why I came to New York. My brother's dead because of me, and my dad, who wanted nothing to do with me after, is about to be buried right next to him.

And because she'd refused Matt's company, she couldn't very well let Foggy come either. As much as she'd secretly wanted to cave when he kept on insisting in clumsy but no less heartfelt terms, his baseline level of awkwardness made ten-fold in the face of something like grief.

Something like it, anyway.

"We weren't really close," Karen had insisted, and the truth hidden there cut deeper than it usually did. But like with most types of pain, she'd long since learned to smile as she swallowed it down.

"Oh, honey, I've been there," even Marci had thought to chime in, "but trust me when I say you'll want someone with you, wherever your relationship with your father left off when he died."

Heart attack, the voice had said on the phone. She hadn't recognized the person speaking; a Doctor So-and-So – Leo something, maybe – from Fagan Corners General, he said, and she'd barely been able to hear the rest. Karen had wondered, in her daze, how they'd even known to call her; she'd been dead to the town the moment she left it all those years ago.

For all the diner food that had sustained him over the years, Paxton Page's health had always seemed stubbornly resistant, and maybe this was just another in a long line of fuck you's to Karen for thinking that she still knew him a little.

We'll pick you up at eight, Foggy had texted her the night before. Go ahead and try to argue your way out of this one.

Then, another second later:

And don't worry, we told Matt the funeral isn't until the day after. So, he'll probably catch up just in time for the service to be over.

Karen leaves at six thirty that morning. She'd anticipated Foggy attempting to pull something like this, and so had been careful not to give him the right start time either.

She borrows Ellison's car. He at least knows when to back down, and besides that running the Bulletin doesn't afford him much time off. (She's also quick to remind him that he was the one who fired her; letting her take his car and not coming with her is really the least he could do.)

She drives like she's on autopilot, until the half-crooked WELCOME TO FAGAN CORNERS, VT sign comes into view. The population count probably hasn't been updated since the 80's, but it feels oddly fitting now. Balanced. It takes one to die for another to return.

The local cemetery is one of the first turns, right after Route 296 dumps its cars into the town like run-off into a landfill. Welcome to Fagan Corners, indeed. It's normally impossible to miss, but Karen has to make a last-minute swerve anyway, because her vision has started to blur and swirl, like a watercolor dabbed with too heavy a brush.

She forces her breathing to even before stepping out of the car. There's a long line of them down the street where she's parked; Karen half-wonders if there's more than one service today, until memory walks her hand-in-hand to Kevin's gravestone and she sees the crowd that's gathered there.

She stands at the very edge, her black blending in with everyone else's, and she uses the excuse of an overcast sky to tuck her blonde hair under the hood of her coat.

She'd brought sunglasses too, as if the weather here might have been any less dismal or drizzly than how she's always remembered it. But they would only attract more attention, so they stay firmly clenched in her hand as she gazes down at the brown-choked edges of grass and tries not to think about who else might be there.

The most their family had ever been known for in this town was loss. First her mother, then Kevin in that accident nobody could stop talking about for days – weeks – what felt like forever, afterward. Karen doesn't want to know what they must say about her: the girl heartless enough to leave a grieving father behind.

(I don't want you here, Karen.)

She doesn't have a clear view of the casket from here. She thinks it's because she doesn't want to. She thinks it's because maybe she can't.

There are people she can't bear to see. Chief Cohen is here – must be, somewhere, and she already knows she can never look him in the eye again. And then there are the people at the front of the crowd, those closest to the casket, closest to—

Karen wants to be sick, standing here dwelling on the family she's been replaced with, and not what losing her father might mean to her instead, all those shadowy places where grief and rage and freedom cross paths, and she can't do this. She can't.

She can't.

She turns.

And runs right into Frank Castle.

She's absolutely sure, for a moment, that she's just seeing things. There's no plausible explanation for him being there. No way he would've known to come, no reason she can think of that he'd have even wanted to, and yet—

"Frank?" Her voice cracks, falling apart at the end, and she can't help but think, So this is what hope can do to a person.

"Karen," he says, low and rough and one hundred percent Frank, and no, she couldn't dream up something this real if she tried.

She takes an unsteady step forward.

Maybe she stumbles. Maybe he's only trying to catch her. Either way, his arms are suddenly encircling her body, pulling her against him as the tears she'd been fighting finally break free.

She can count on one hand the number of times he has willingly touched her first. The shock of it now isn't any less dulled by the reason why she's here, shaky and sobbing into his shoulder while he makes soft shushing noises and sways their bodies together.

It only makes her cry harder.

"Hey. Hey. C'mere." Frank's wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, gently squeezing there, and it makes her feel fragile and strong all at once. Like she's worth being soft with, like this pain that she's feeling isn't somehow all her own damn fault.

Her hood has slipped back from her face, and his cheek is resting against the bare skin of her temple when he speaks again. Calm and unwavering, just like every other time he's been there to look out for her.

"You want to stay?"

She's making a scene, and that's the last thing she'd meant to do here.

Karen shakes her head.

He adjusts his grip around her shoulders, leading her back toward the row of parked cars. The ground is damp with morning dew, and her heels sink into the dirt more than once, making her stumble and nearly take him down with her.

"Sorry," she says, but Frank only moves his hand to her waist, arm pressing into the small of her back. It's a simple but comforting gesture, and such a departure from the last time they'd seen one another (I don't want to, I don't want to, and God when will people stop saying that to her?).

She wants to be angry with him. It would be the easier thing to do. But he's here now, and that means something to her.

She thinks it might mean something to him too.

"How are you here?" Karen asks him, after a moment of quiet. They've reached the sidewalk and kept on going, taking their time in slow, measured steps. She's half-expected him to let go of her waist, so she shouldn't feel that dull ache in her chest when he does, but then he's reaching for her hand instead.

She loses her breath for a moment.

When she can, she says, "Was it Foggy?"

"Was already on my way here when he called," Frank tells her, and doesn't elaborate any further than that.

Karen shakes her head, trying to understand what this is all supposed to mean. "So…"

Frank clears his throat and says, "Wasn't sure you'd want to see me again."

He says it in such a way to leave her with the distinct impression that if she hadn't turned and seen him there when she did, she might never have known he'd come at all.

"I wasn't either," she answers honestly, and he hangs his head with a nod. Her hand tightens around his. "But it means a lot to me that you're here, Frank."

It means everything, she wants to say, but she doesn't think he's ready for that either.

The farther they've gone from the burial site, the more she succumbs to a slow-numbing exhaustion, the kind that only grieving for something can bring, and that – that feels wrong to her too, somehow. That she could make a choice to feel nothing at all.

She pauses, half-turned back toward the direction they'd came, and Frank squeezes her hand to let her know that he's right there with her, wherever she decides to go next.

Karen takes a step forward, and has to brace herself for a second, like she's reached the top of a very steep hill, and too-sudden a movement might send her careening without another chance to come back.

Frank seems to have fully anticipated her struggle, moving in to embrace her again before she's even aware that she's crumbling.

"I got you," he murmurs, over and over. "I got you, Karen. I got you."

"It's—" she swipes at her eyes, blowing out a frustrated breath that seems to shake through her entire body. "It was, um. It was complicated, with my dad."

"I get that," Frank says simply. He reaches up to thumb the tears from her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut for a moment, his palm sliding down to the curve of her throat before dropping away. "You could tell me about it sometime."

"Yeah, I'd like that," she tells him. "I'd like that a lot, actually."

He laces their fingers back together. She leads this time, taking him back toward the way out of this place, back toward Route 296, and for the first time she lets herself wonder – lets herself hope – that there could be an after for her too.

"Wait, is that yours?" Karen asks as she spots the red Honda minivan parked behind Ellison's car. "Is it an upgrade from your murder van?"

"Friend lent it to me," says Frank, in an utterly serious tone.

"So you didn't steal it?" she wonders, still just the slightest bit dubious.

The smirk that Frank gives her is soft, almost playful. "No, ma'am, I didn't steal it."

"You'll have to tell me about this friend of yours sometime," says Karen with a sidelong glance, and he looks away with a full-forming smile this time.

"Funny story," he tells her. "You might've been the one to introduce us."

She tilts her head, considering, and decides he won't have a choice but to tell her more later.

They end up veering left past their cars, up a small knoll and into the trees. There's a bench up ahead, partially hidden away, and they settle down there, still joined at the hand. She hasn't known peace like this with Frank before – the kind that doesn't need to start with a war – and maybe it's selfish but she's in no hurry to let any of this go.

"Nelson said he was coming," Frank mentions after a while. He speaks carefully, like he's been waiting for this, and still isn't sure it's the right way to say it. "I'm betting that Murdock'll be showing up with him."

"Okay," says Karen.

He pauses, then adds, "If you want, I can, uh. Stay with you until they're here, or—" he swallows and rocks forward a little, gaze shifting over the ground, "—longer. If that's what you want."

She reaches with her free hand, holding his in both of hers now. It's softer than she would have expected, smooth-skinned and warm, everything is so warm when he looks up at her again. "I choose longer, Frank."

"Okay," he says, voice rasping slightly.

He's angling closer, and she leans into him with sigh, resting her head against his shoulder. His other hand comes around to brush back her hair, and then he's kissing her forehead as she closes her eyes, and breathes.

[ao3.]

#kastle #kastlenetwork #kastledaily #kastle ff #anon

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shiinonomee · 5 years

Text

Talking to Strangers

Meet a friend, choose a name (albeit, not well)

Word Count: ~2,000

OC centric, Third POV, Code Vein Fic

Guilt gnaws at her stomach whenever she remembers the barely concealed fear that had been in Oliver’s eyes.

The eyes of a man who knew he was going to die.

He would lose himself to the bloodlust—exacerbated by the thick miasma here—and what was that besides dying?

She could’ve stayed with him—could’ve kept him company. But it wasn’t what he’d wanted. If he’d had the strength she is sure he would’ve shoved her in the other direction with that good-natured laugh of his.

Go on—I’ll be right behind you.

A lie that she could perhaps let slide, just this once.

Both the squad sent in before her, and half of her own had been wiped out. Things aren’t boding well; even if Io had saved her from the brink of frenzy less than an hour before.

The exhaustion had knocked her straight out afterward. She hadn’t had time to put two and two together until after she had come to, in yet another unfamiliar place. Someone had been nice enough to get her up to speed, then; someone who said he was like her.

A revenant. Apparently, she’d been dead before someone had infected her with a BOR parasite, which had effectively brought her back to life...in a sense. The main difference is that now, rather than food to sustain her, she would need blood. This is all fine and good, of course, except for the fact that the military currently houses and keeps track of every human; and the only other source of what she would now need to survive are blood beads like the ones she had sprouted earlier with Io.

And, just her luck, they are pretty hard to come by these days.

That is why she is where she is, now—exploring underground caverns that had been created in what everyone is calling The Great Collapse. She still doesn’t quite understand what that was, but she knows it had been a disaster-level event that had killed many revenants when they had been human.

As she understands, the military upholds a levy system for blood beads, everyone must pay the tax or...face the consequences, she assumes. Except, now that they are so difficult to find what with all the blood springs drying up, and it is so much more dangerous to go out with the ranks of the Lost growing larger every day, many people keep revenant thralls and force them to go hunting. She can’t help but feel as though she is at fault for Io being in this situation. She shouldn’t have let herself pass out in the open. Now they are both at the mercy of those who would send them easily to their deaths, just as they had poor Oliver.

They’d given her a purifier mask to battle the miasma, at least, and the gear they say they’d found her with. A sword, beautiful golden rapier, that she has no clue how she’d obtained.

Yeah, apparently memory loss is a big thing with revenants—go figure.

She can see the tubes that run along the blade—there to collect the ichor of the Lost she kills and filter it through her mask. Her bloodveil—armor of sorts—is a long blue silken thing that trails behind her arms when she walks. Apparently it draws ichor, too, and much faster. She’s been trying to figure that one out, but before Oliver had really been able to explain it to her, he’d...

She sighs heavily and keeps moving, mind moving to Io as a sort of defense mechanism.

They’d kept her up top with them--her kidnappers. She can only pray that the strange girl who’d helped her is safe; it had made her strangely furious to be forcibly separated from her. She’d had to grit her teeth against the urge to drive her new sword through their chests, given that she’d been wildly outnumbered and had no idea if she actually knew how to use this thing.

Turns out she absolutely did—as a few minor Lost found out the hard way when they had rushed her and instinct had kicked in.

It balances perfectly in her hand, weight nicely distributed. It’s easy to wield and paired with the speed the bloodveil she wears gives, her she makes for a deadly foe. She worries about it doing the job for some of the bigger ones, though—so she sneaks past them when she can.

If she could get her hands on one of their bigger weapons...

It takes a few fights to fire her out, but luckily she stumbles upon a mistle before too long. They had told her that these had the ability to clear the miasma. They also look pretty similar to that tree Io had led her to when they’d first met—the bloodspring.

She thinks it is reasonable to assume that her blood could have some sort of effect on this, as well, so with only a little hesitation she uses the blade of her sword to slice a thin line across the meat of her index finger. Red blooms from the cut in several little beads. She watches it build up, transfixed for a moment, before holding it out over the cocooned mistle.

A faint glow emits from its tendrils as it shudders and opens almost immediately upon contact. She smiles without really realizing it at first—and for the first time since she’d first put it on, she pries off the purifier mask and lets herself breathe the fresh air.

“Well, that’s really something, isn’t it?”

The sudden voice makes her start. The golden blade glints in the low light of the mistle as she whirls on the intruder with it pointed directly at their chest. Had she had the time to be stunned yet again by her quick reflexes, she would be.

Instead, she glares hard at the man across from her, standing in the mouth of one of the tunnels she hadn’t yet explored.

Slowly, he raises the gloved hand that isn’t holding his crimson-bladed sword.

He’s good-looking—with loose brown curls and eyes so rich a brown they appear red. His skin is pale and blemish-less as a doll’s, and he has a small and angular face. He’s dressed well, rolled up sleeves on his checked button-up and a nice looking waistcoat. Dark leather pants tucked into equally fancy leather boots. He looks as likely to host a tea party as cut down a wave of Lost.

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you—but you really surprised me, there. I’ve never seen anyone able to do what you just did before.”

As if to emphasize his harmlessness, he puts his sword away.

“My name is Louis. Do you mind if I rest here a moment with you before moving on?” He motions to the mistle, “This is the first one I’ve come across, and it’s actually functioning now, thanks to you.”

She watches him closely without saying anything for a long while, sword still hovering still in the air in front of his heart.

“The lost and miasma in this area are enough trouble for me, I assure you. I wouldn’t want to make an enemy where I could avoid it, instead.”

A moment longer and she falters. She isn’t built to be such a hard-ass, really. Even though she would do anything to get back to Io, she has to agree that to talk things out is preferable for her, as well.

Her gaze softens and she lets her sword fall.

“Please don’t make me do anything we’ll both regret.” She says softly, and then nods to the mistle. “Take what time you need.”

She sees his eyes crinkle at the corners as if he is smiling behind his mask, and realizes that he is a second later when he removes it.

“You have my thanks.” He says jovially, strolling closer. “It’s good to see someone else down here—I’ve been traveling alone up until now.”

“That’s not dangerous?” She asks, tilting her head.

He does the same back at her, offering a patient smile.

“Oh...” She murmurs, eyes cast downward, “well, I had a partner until...recently.” Louis sobers at this, an understanding look in his eyes.

“I’m truly sorry to hear that.” She nods and shakes herself out of it. “Anyway, it isn’t too terribly difficult to get back home from here, so I decided not to trouble anyone by asking them along. I like to think of myself as somewhat capable.”

Again he offers a small smile. She returns it with her own, hesitantly. “That’s fair enough.”

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, per se, but she can tell he wants to say something else. She can feel him stealing glances every now and again as they relax—free of the danger of the Lost for a while. When she finally looks up again, she can see his brows knit in concentration.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“If I did, I think I’d already be offended, yeah?”

That makes him chuckle a bit. “Where did you learn to do...” he glances again at the open mistle, struck dumb for just a moment before recovering and meeting her eyes once more, “...that?”

Once more, she tries to recall her past; anything that might in some way pertain to activating mistles and bringing bloodsprings to bloom. And once more, she finds nothing but the empty void of her memories gazing back solemnly. “I’m sorry...” she says sincerely, “It seems I can’t remember anything. I’ve been trying, but...”

Louis nods, once again looking upon her with a deep understanding. She wonders to herself just how vast this memory problem is among revenants. “Well, it’s no matter, really. It is rather unique, though.”

“You’ve really never met anyone else who could do that? Io seemed to know I could do it before I did...”

“Is that a friend of yours?”

She nods. “I think so? She’s the first person I met since losing all my memories. I’m trying to make my way back to her, now—but I need to find blood beads, first. I’m worried about what’ll happen if I don’t.”

“Hm.” Louis is thoughtful for a moment. “That’s why I’m here, too, in fact. Perhaps we could continue the search together, once we’re done here.”

“I don’t see why not—as long as you don’t try to run off with all of them.”

He chuckles again, “You have my word.”

“Good to work with you, then.”

“And you.” He agrees, “Might I ask your name, in that case?”

She halts for a moment. Io had told her that they would give her a new one, so she hadn’t thought much about it since waking. Her thrall number is apparently Four, and while it would work well enough she didn’t quite fancy being referred to by something those people had come up with.

Still, when she thinks back—the only origins she remembers are the ones born from waking up on that road with Io. She couldn’t very well steal Io’s name...so maybe...

“Road...-y...” She says haltingly, cheeks flushing embarrassedly at the unnatural sound of it. It tumbles clumsily off her tongue, but Louis doesn’t even flinch.

“Rhodey? That’s a fine name.” She doesn’t know if he says it because he can tell she’d just come up with it on the fly or because he truly thinks so; still, she appreciates the honesty he speaks with.

Really...not even a street name; but the road itself...

She tries not to wince visibly at her own blandness.

“I’m glad you think so...” she mutters, and he laughs. Then, sparing one more curious glance at the mistle, he adopts a look of careful resolve on his face.

“You know,” he starts, pondering something, “I’m actually doing a study on bloodsprings, beads, the like. Your ability could really do wonders, and perhaps along the way, we could find out how you came to be able to affect them, yourself. It wouldn’t be a one-sided deal, I can assure you of that much, at least. If you’d like to be involved we can discuss it once we’ve returned topside.”

Rhodey stares wide-eyed and unblinking. “Really?” It sounds better than being a thrall, at any rate. Perhaps he would be willing to help her free Io and herself from captivity. He nods. “I’ll...I’ll think about it. I need to get back to Io, before anything else.”

“Then let’s not keep her waiting.”

#code vein #oc ; rhodey #fic ; carrier of the blood

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 5 years

Photo

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/karmic-tools-weekly-forecast-january-12-18-2020/

Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast: January 12 – 18, 2020

ByKelly M. Beard

The video version of this forecast, as read by Kelly, is available here.

The Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast covers the current planetary transits which affect people in different ways and to various degrees of intensity. Take notice when it is a Personal planet (Sun / Moon / Mercury / Venus / Mars) interacting with a Social (Jupiter/Saturn) or Collective planet (Uranus / Neptune/Pluto). And pay extremely close attention when it is a Social planet interacting with a Collective planet because that means something *big* is brewing that will move large groups of people along their evolutionary paths. Tuning in to the energy and rhythm of the planets can serve as a useful *guide* as you move along your Individual Path. It also helps to understand your place within the context of the larger Social & Collective Story. Below, you will find out how these energies tend to manifest, as well as guidance and direction.

*NOTE* There are some days when there are NO CONTACTS (besides the Moon), please note that there are no missing entries, we just list the actual Activations of each week + the day they happen.

Weekly Forecast: January 12 – 18, 2020

1/12 ~ Mercury (thought process) ~conjunct~ Saturn (definition of reality):

This energy is excellent for any important project that requires your undivided attention. If you’ve got a vision and have already outlined how to manifest it, now is the time to really fill in the blanks – flesh it out – bring it to life! Do the work! If you do not channel this energy toward patiently and methodically taking the steps (in order, with no shortcuts) so you can get to the next level, then it can manifest in frustration that you are not doing what you know in your heart you’re supposed to be doing at this time. That often leads to negative thinking and self-sabotage. A better expression would be to not think of the things that can go wrong, but entertain the possibility that every door opens and all paths lead to your goal, no matter how they appear in the moment.

1/12 ~ Mercury (mind, thoughts & ideas) ~conjunct~ Pluto (purification & transformation):

This activation takes you into the depths of your own mind & consciousness, deepening all communications. You may find yourself obsessing over something, either by yourself or in an attempt to convey something to another. Superficial, quick once-overs, trying to keep things ‘light’ will not likely be possible with this energy. You may feel determined to dig deeper until you get to the core or base issue. It’s good for soul-searching when it’s a genuine desire to know the truth, rather than to evade it. It’s not-so-good when you’re obsessing over someone or something which no longer serves you (or your Highest good). The challenge with this energy is the tendency to be really intense and locked-in on your own point of view, which is no less valid, but often this type of mental intensity blinds you to something obvious that you overlooked because you were not being objective, but being driven by much deeper (possibly unconscious) emotions. Your intensity is capable of influencing others but be aware of the difference between sharing information and trying to “convince, convert or cajole” others, as that can naturally attract challenges & opposition. Remember, the opposite can also be true, where you’re on the receiving end of this intense energy from someone else (trying to convince you of something). The best way to use this energy, as it doesn’t really last that long, is to turn that intensity toward Self, peel the layers to your own Truth & Purpose. The channels are open for a time and you can communicate and receive information from the deepest part of your SoulSelf. This is an Initiation.

1/12 ~ Saturn (structures, definitions & reality) ~conjunct~ Pluto (death, rebirth & transformation):

Here we have a Social (Saturn) and Collective (Pluto) planet creating a potent initiation that will likely have long-term influence on your personal life in many ways that only become clear a few years from now. This is an evolutionary process and those with Cancer/Capricorn & Aries/Libra are the ones with karmic ties to this combo. This is not a good versus bad thing, this is just a major Reality Check. I did a little digging and the last time Saturn conjuncted Pluto in Capricorn was 1518 and the last time they Initiated a new cycle was in 1982 in Libra. So they connect every 30-years or so thanks to Saturn’s pattern but Pluto makes it hard to connect in the same sign, so when they do, it symbolizes much more global effects. One thing that jumped out to me was that in the 1400’s it looks like lots of countries around the world wanted to be sovereign and be their own individual country and now we are living in a time when we realize how unrealistic or impractical human created borders can be. This is a time when we know we are all connected and we know that Earth’s resources have to sustain us all.

Saturn is here, in Capricorn, to ensure that this initiation is guided by the Council of Grandmothers who help us feminize the individual evolutionary process and collective revolutionary process. What does that mean? It means it is time to lead with honoring Nature, dealing with what is (not our illusions or delusions) and living in harmony with the Life/Death/Life Cycle. Both Saturn & Pluto do not allow things to live beyond their true usefulness. If all is energy, and certain energy is locked up or blocked so it cannot flow, that creates an unnatural death. If we simply honor that something is dead or done and clear it to bring in the new consciously, then we save ourselves a lot of heartache & trouble. We know that humans have lived in harmony with the Earth for millennia (I didn’t say with each other but they respected Nature) and in a few generations, our industrialization & colonization has created a crisis that we ALL have to address on some level if we are to survive. These two bring up these very real, very heavy-duty subjects and asks us all to face that which we’ve ignored overlong and finally clean it up and free up that energy to move.

An initiation catalyzes the NEW and you will know where your individual focus needs to be by the breakdowns going on in your life at this time. What no longer works for you? What is no longer real for you? And what has gotten so real that you have to rearrange your life to accommodate it? How are your containers supporting & protecting you? Where are the energy leaks? What shortcuts have you taken that will not work this time?

Ultimately, we are living through the ultimate transformation of our reality here on Earth. This is a chance to claim your vision of balance & harmony for Mother Earth, the waters and the soil that we cannot survive without. This year, you can co-create with this activation by simplifying your life, redefining your terms and renegotiating your contracts across the board. What have you agreed to in your heart and on paper that may have run its course by now and requires an upgrade or a new agreement altogether?

Note: This activation is joined by Ceres/The Mother – yet another indication of initiating new ways of nourishing ourselves and nurturing others that is up for renewal. In Capricorn, Ceres says it is time to be completely responsible for your footprint on this planet and it is time to look beyond your Self to see what you are actually contributing to the planet at this time. It really is a delicious opportunity for us ALL to start fresh, with new structures in place that honor everyone’s true purpose on Earth.

1/13 ~ Sun (source & essential Self) ~conjunct~ Pluto (purification & transformation):

This energy brings to mind a quote, “circumstances don’t make a man, they reveal him”. The Sun (ego) and Pluto (transformation) are connecting and you are often a different Being once this energy passes and the two planets separate again (they meet once a year). Pluto brings into the Light, aspects of our Selves which have been buried, neglected or ignored lately (or for some, a very long time). Sometimes that is miraculous & life-saving, and other times this can be arduous & exhausting, but it is completely natural. With this energy, you can now more fully access your Source (Sun) and transcend (Pluto) who you “used to be” and begin to truly embody who you are becoming. Bringing things into the Light comes in many forms, as you question all you thought you were or thought you knew about what you really want to express in this lifetime. You can use this as a Rebirth of Light within you or you can look at it as Light being brought to your deepest, darkest places within to heal them with pure Light. It is an initiation that often requires a release of some kind that, ultimately, allows you to grow & blossom in new, more authentic ways. As always, concentrated power (Pluto) must be responsibly directed, so watch any projections or provoked power struggles and pick your battles (everybody doesn’t like Light in their dark places). It’s time to question if the sacrifice you’re making is truly worth it? Relationships often strain under this influence because it is such *raw truth* rising from the Soul but it also brings things to the surface that are better addressed sooner than later. (Think The Tower card in Tarot.) It doesn’t have to be destroyed (or maybe it does) as much as it needs to be transformed (new form). Remember, breakdowns always precede the breakthroughs!!

1/13 ~ Sun (core-identity) ~conjunct~ Saturn (responsibility):

This energy gives you a strong dose of purpose & direction, but also reminds you that those big dreams require a solid foundation in order to flourish. The wheels that get set in motion this week are creating your future, for better or worse – so pay attention! While this is often about career matters, it is also about your responsibilities in general, the things you have to do that cannot be delegated to others. This is great energy for organizing and planning, creating order, and organizing your Self or your life in some way that fortifies your position. If you don’t “do the work” that you know you are supposed to be doing at the moment, you will only feel worse. So don’t delay anything that can, and probably should, be done sooner versus later. This energy can also make you feel a little lonely or depressed, don’t give in to that. There is a time to be out and about and time to get down to business. And right now, you have probably already put some things off and that is only going to contribute further to your stress levels. Make a list of things to do, prioritize them and start checking them off.

1/15 ~ Venus (relationships, love & money) ~sextile~ Uranus (clarity & inspiration):

This energy, thanks to Uranus, activates a certain spark of electricity in the air. New relationships will have an unusual aspect to them and old ones can break-to-realign in a positive, even fun way with this energy. No monotonous routine, humdrum people or boring collaborations with this one. Use it to access your unique genius and deep well of creativity and then share if you can, with other like-hearted Souls. Take advantage of this energy to tap into areas you may not have realized were available to you before now. Keep it light and upbeat; socialize and enjoy the experience of different people or new activities. Keep in mind, however, any relationships begun this week may not be based on qualities needed for long term survival. It is more a time to enjoy the people and experiences that pass through at this time and accept it as a gift!

1/18 ~ Mercury (lower mind & ideas) ~square~ Uranus (Higher Mind & awakening):

This energy challenges you to expand your mind or consciousness in a way, pushing you to think differently and respond to information in new ways. Uranus brings sudden ah-ha moments, personal awareness and radical new ideas, which is great for you adventurous souls who thrive on change and new ideas. However, if you are personally attached to your routine and things ‘going as planned’, then this energy can cause aggravation and tax your nervous system because things will seem sudden (even though it is more likely that they have already been brewing under the surface for some time now). You will have to adjust and be more open & mentally flexible than usual. You may not be able to control the excessive mental activity or information-overload coming in, but hopefully you can direct it a bit. It’s good to activate or clean your personal filters by taking some time in nature to process things at your own pace and generally clear your head. This can be a very inspiring & creative time, so try to tune into that, while keeping in mind that anything you begin or get into, may require a review later so you can check over the details of your revelations (or creations). You’re just cracking the surface, this is all about the revelation or awakening, you will eventually have to figure out the logistics or effective actions necessary to bring your ideas into form.

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tarithenurse · 6 years

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All is fair in Love & War - 18

Pairing: Loki x reader Content: Here be pining, fluff, angsting, relief, worry, the feeling of finally understanding something really obvious, and more relief. A/N: This is getting close to the end, depending on edits of the next part, then there will only be one or two chapters more. I’m very grateful for the support and love this story has gotten. Thank you! Oh, speaking of edits...proof reading while hungover might have been a bad move on my behalf, so pardon any errors still left.

18. Among wolves

The dull headache is one thing, but Loki’s limbs area heavy and unwilling to respond as he attempts to turn around in his bed. Or maybe the covers have gotten twisted, effectively restraining him? Some…thought…or maybe a memory is starting to squirm at the back of his mind, but it will have to wait. Groaning, he blinks to clear his eyes and investigate the situation.

“Brother?” There is a distance to Thor’s voice which throws the Jotun for a spin. “Loki, remain calm…alright brother?”

Calm? I am calm. The cerebral brain remains the same, but the vision clears which seems to fuel the insistent thought that urges him to move, to hurry. Why should I not be calm? He lost something, did he not? Getting his bearings, it occurs to Loki that this is not his own bed. There are no furs or silken sheets nestled within a wooden structure, but crisp white linen and a golden frame. Over the covers stretches thick, leather bands emblazoned with runes to imbue them with magic…magic meant to hold him in place if the physical bindings should fail.

There is no reason to struggle as it would only be in vain. “Thor…what is the meaning of this?”

“I am sorry,” the brother apologizes sheepishly from the other side of a magical barrier, “we did not know what else to do.”

Seconds pass silently while the brothers study each other. Why? Wreaking his memories, Loki can only recall walking from the stables with a plan in mind. What was I plotting? When the memory hits in the shape of the elusive thought, it takes away his breath along with any coherent thoughts…and still he cannot move. I have to get to Sjöblik in time to stop [Y/N].

“You have to release me,” he forces himself to talk evenly, “I need to get to her.”

“I cannot release you.”

Snarling, Loki is close to screaming at his brother. “Then get me someone who CAN!”

The broad bindings glow angrily until the captive relents with a sigh and relaxes into the soft mattress. Gaze fixed on the ceiling, he can hear the heavy footsteps of Thor recede followed by the distant clank of a door.

…

By the time Loki hears the door again, he has counted everything there is to count, read the runes about a dozen times, and designed his vengeance down to the smallest detail. They will regret holding me back like this. It is true that he had allowed himself to be talked into staying in Utgard from fear that any rash action would cause more damage. But preventing him from executing a carefully laid plan? Unforgivable. How did Thor even know?

Several people move in his periphery, safely on the other side of the magical wall, tempting him to turn his head. Thor, the lumbering oaf, has brought their parents. In a way it makes sense because Odin would have implemented strict rules to keep the embarrassing situation from the public, but seeing Frigga standing there with worry on her face and her hands clasped so tight before her chest that the knuckles are white…I am sorry, mother.

“Loki, I am sorry you had to regain consciousness to this…we did not know what else to do.”

The strain in Odin’s voice surprises his adoptive son, but he maintains a cool detachment. “May I suggest you begin with explaining why I was unconscious in the first place?”

“Your servants and I found you like that,” Thor’s begins, “we heard a…well I truly have no words to describe it! It was like a mixture of an explosion and a thousand people screaming. It came from the courtyard and when we arrived…I admit I was not the first, but…oh, brother! Everything was covered in ice. Dark, frozen spikes and-and shockwaves centered upon you as if…as if some force had hit you with the cold of a million winters, freezing anything in a circle around you!” The breath inhaled into the Thunder god’s lungs shakes with emotion. “No one could tell me what to do, so I called upon Heimdal…to take us here.”

My idiot brother is incapable of lying. Eliminating the most convoluted options, Loki is left with the assumption that the story is true. “So why subdue me like this?”

Frigga places a soft hand on the wall, causing the barrier to disintegrate and allowing her to step through to the weak protests of the men beside her. “My dear. We first feared you had been the victim of some form of attack, but as we searched for injuries you might have sustained, we found none.” Finally by the bed, she takes a seat on the edge, running the back of a few warm finger over Loki’s cheek. “You began to stir in your unconsciousness, showed distress…the infirmary became covered in ice too…”

“I caused it to happen…”

Turning his attention inwards, the god focuses on the part of his soul that is connected to the old powers of the Jötun, finding the Living Cold to be nearly depleted – something that only can happen by rapidly unleashing magic of enormous proportions. Already, it is replenishing, but there is no doubt it will take weeks before the powers will be restored.

“But why?” Soft grey eyes meet his blood-red with all the comfort and wisdom of a mother. “I…did something…? I felt…” Oh. “It felt as though my heart was torn from my body. Then I fell into darkness…”

“Loki, my dear.” Frigga sighs, looking to her husband and Thor for something. “Your bond with the mortal may be stronger than you think.”

… READER’s PoV …

If this is death…then why am I in pain? What first coherent thoughts go, it is not the worst, actually. It feels as though your shoulder is burning and moving your arm is like having white-hot pokers boring through. Deciding to stay as still as possible, you look around in the grey light of dawn, surprised to find yourself nowhere near the castle in Sjöblik…or for that matter near the city itself, it seems.

Dense firs and pines are standing so close that the needle-covered ground is almost completely dry beneath you, and it would not be a lie to say that at least one side of your body is being warmed considerably. Turning your head carefully to avoid upsetting the shoulder, the change of perspective brings a wall of mottled-grey fur into focus. Fur that moves as if it is still in use by its original owner. Breathing in sharply in fear fills your nose with the scent of dirt, dried and fresh needles…and a dog-like smell. Sweeping the gaze against the hairs, it passes the shoulders of a canine before coming to rest on the face of a wolf. Dark, amber eyes are watching every move you make.

You can feel your mind blank out, loosing touch with logic and abandoning any predetermined reactions that normal people might have in such a situation (though it probably is very few who haven woken up next to a wolf). Wolf. So far, not a wrong conclusion by your brain. Big. Also correct. Very, very big. Again, correct…but not helpful as such. Is Röskva and the other Vanir alright? See, that is where your brain fails to grasp the concept of prioritizing.

A quiet huff from the side that should not have a wolf assigned, makes you suspect that there is, in fact, another huge predator as if one would not have been bad enough. I survive falling several stories into a moat in the dead of winter…only to be rescued by the biggest wolves in creation?

“By the gods…this is just great.”

Talking out loud in this situation is another piece of evidence that your head must be damage somehow. Still, neither creature appears startled or upset about your comment, and you decide to risk a bit movement. Inch by inch, the good arm and hand begins a journey across the body until the fingertips can prod the injured shoulder, soliciting a hiss of discomfort. It also results in a soft whine from the wolf lying by your side, and an exploratory sniff by the newcomer (a wolf so dark brown it might have been black) which has taken a seat by your head. If I get to survive sitting up, then I need a way to fixate that arm or pop the joint back in place. Neither option is going to be easy, but at least you have a belt.

Repositioning the good arm, you brace yourself. Can’t lie here forever. With a grunt and a half-choked curse, it is possible to sit up although black dots are dancing before your eyes and it feels as though your arm has been torn off. The swaying motion steadies, making it possible to breathe a bit deeper. Then a gently yet very firm form presses against your back, nudging you to keep going. To stand. Afraid to piss off a wolf by refusing to do as it wants, you tug a leg under you the best you can, pulling the knee on the other to your chest. All the movement is making your entire body ache, but it is nothing compared to the agony of the dislocated shoulder.

A new nudge.

“Yes, yes…just give me a moment, huh? This isn’t as easy as it looks.” Hot breath fans your cheek, starting a shiver that run the length of your spine before it is stopped by a wet lick ending with a lot of wolf-drool in your ear. “Ah great, that’s really gonna help.”

As if understanding your words, the grey wolf wiggles itself underneath the good arm and then looks at you. Carefully you dig your shaking fingers through the course layer of the fur until you reach the soft undercoat. I’m being helped by wolves…yes…completely normal. But you nod to the creature, feeling it enhance your efforts to stand by pulling you forward before staying stock still as a means of maintaining balance.

“Well, uhm…thank you.”

…

Your first priority after strapping the arm to your chest had been to find water to clench an aching thirst but the wolves had other plans. Deciding it was better not to object to the wishes of creatures as big as ponies, you let them lead you away. North, judging by the mosses and lichen growing on any available surface.

A swarm of thoughts is milling in your mind, each concern fighting for attention with no regard for progress on the previous’ behalf. By now, the murder of king Gorm and the queen must have been discovered which means that when the guards or court realizes that you are missing, they will blame it on you and subsequently the Vanir – people you have come to consider as friends and who now may be arrested and convicted for your actions. That was a risk all along. Knowing that does not make it easier. If only you had had time to warn them, to send them away.

Stumbling over a root, you reflexively reach for the nearest support. Fingers dig into rough fur, causing both you and the dark wolf to freeze. Don’t eat me. The air starts to hurt in your chest as you wait for something to happen while amber eyes roam your shape with an intelligence unmatched by most beasts. There is even something familiar about it…but what? The new ruminations are interrupted as the greyer of the giant creatures lays down before you, presenting its exposed back. Huh? As you try to sidestep, a deep rumbling erupts, causing every hair on your body to stand and silencing the few birds in the area.

“What do you want?”

It was not meant to sound as whiney as it came out, but you are still tired and hurting, and things generally stink which makes it hard to deal with the whims of abducting predators. Probably for that very reason, it takes several nudges and renewed growls before the trip can continue…with you on the back of one of them.

… LOKI’s PoV …

Left in solitude for a while, the king of Jotunheim is no further from desperation than before although everything has been explained to him. She fell. The nauseating sensation he felt while crossing Utgard’s courtyard must have been related to this, but Frigga cannot give any satisfying explanation why it is happening. To find out, [Y/N] must be present too.

That leads Loki’s thought to the next issue. Having had to retreat as a child to save his own hide, the trickster knows that speed is vital unless the blame can be shifted to someone else. The Vanir are making haste on horseback heading southward to prevent getting caught, which is a sensible solution all things considered, whereas the mortal guilty of the crime committed is on food, has no rations, carries no weapons, and only has support from Odin’s two wolves.

Geri and Freki. Perhaps it should be a consolation that they are with her as the beasts are more than capable of defending their charge from any dangers…but it is not enough. The animals had pulled her from the river that has been split to create the moat surrounding the castle in Sjöblik. Once safe on land, each wolf is most likely taken turn to warm and dry [Y/N] with their own body heat until she is able to leave the forest at its northern borders. But when? The old forests cover vast areas and are too dense for Heimdal to land the Bifrost safely. That is why they must wait for the odd trio to emerge from the woods.

No, the arrangements that have been made are the best possible under these circumstances, and Loki’s frustrations stem from the uselessness he feels. Waiting will be a challenge although it is something he always has excelled at.

… READER’s PoV …

“Crrrrrooooooaaaarrrr.”

The unexpected familiarity of the sound is enough to pull you from the edges of sleep and back to the moment at hand. Jerking upright sends a new flare of pain through your shoulder but also grants you the view of the dark wolf and an even darker creature now perched on its back. To make matters worse (or odder) the raven is holding on to something shiny with its claws. The tri-hook. Only a foot of the rope is still attached, torn and frayed at the end.

“Still not dead, sorry,” you manage to whisper through dried lips.

That doesn’t rule out that I’m going crazy. A bird has flown miles to bring a tool you had hated leaving behind, and you are riding on a wolf as big as the one in Odin’s cou–

Blinking at the mottled-grey creature, you finally recognize it and its brother for what they are. Loki had told you their names and how they, together with two ravens are the eyes and ears of the All-Father as he sends them out into the realms…or apparently to watch over stupid mortals as they take on risky missions. Your cheeks are hot with guilt as they stretch in a tired smile.

What are their names again? “Thank you. All of you.”

Relief is coursing through your tired and beaten body, making your head swim so you discover belatedly that the odd company has stopped. Looking around, you notice the forest itself is behind you. Before the wolves’ paws begins the open the plains of rolling hills and the occasional village of farmer-families. You even have time to admire the view of the first blue patches of sky in weeks before a torrent of light engulfs you.

… LOKI’s PoV …

They have let him out and Loki knows just from the smiles on Thor’s and Frigga’s faces what it means which is why he is wasting no time as he hurries along familiar halls with them in sharp pursuit.

Each minute feels like a year. Each step has been reduced to a thumb’s length.

But finally, he skids through the circular opening of Heimdal’s observatory in time to see an odd group of figures materialize before the Keeper and Odin.

The mortal woman is dirty and battered with an arm strapped awkwardly across the chest, each injury echoing through Loki’s limbs, but in this moment, she is an enchanting being taken directly from the sweetest dreams he has ever had. How perfectly she fits in his arm as he lifts her off her tired feet and cradles her in his lap without a care in the world that he has somehow sunk to the floor before the eyes of his family, Heimdal, and a few other guards. None of it matters. None of it matters because [Y/N] is near him again.

Loki refuses to let go of the frail human, insisting instead to carry her to the Healers’ Ward where Idunn tends to the injuries with skill. Only when the Asgardian goddess of longevity and health orders him to leave, to grant the mortal rest, does he do so…though with the promise of returning soon.

Outside the door, Frigga is waiting on a carved stone bench with a book in one hand. “I assume you have been told to give your love some peace to sleep?” she asks with a gentle smile.

“Yes.”

“My son…you always consider each action carefully…” Gone is the smile, replaced by the tender worry of a mother. “You know you will outlive her. Does she?”

“There is one way…but how can I ask her to abandon everything? She has a chance to return to Midgard and build a normal life. A safe life.”

The soft hand that takes Loki’s says more than any words can, and he enjoys the silent that lowers itself over them. This hallway is favoured with soft, warm colours enhancing the healing qualities of the sun streaming through the windows. A multitude of plants adds to the impression that it is indeed the Healing Ward which is housed here. Blindly staring at the rose and creamy yellows of the marble, Loki wishes it was this life he could grant [Y/N] rather than that of a cold keep and Jötun clans still opposing his rule.

“If you truly want her to chose, then you cannot hide anything from her, dear Loki.”

Reclaiming her hand, Frigga places a wooden box in her son’s lap. It is carefully decorated with various coloured stones, creating the liking of a fruit tree. Even the gold filigree clasp carries the same theme of leaves and apple blossoms.

The queen cups his cheek to make sure Loki listens carefully. “Whatever she chooses…respect it.”

...

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pass-the-bechdel · 5 years

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Crazy Ex-Girlfriend season three full review

How many episodes pass the Bechdel test?

100% (thirteen of thirteen).

What is the average percentage per episode of female characters with names and lines?

41.16%

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 40% female?

Seven, so just over half. Three of those are 50%+.

How many episodes have a cast that is less than 20% female?

Zero.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twenty-four. Thirteen who appeared in more than one episode, five who appeared in at least half the episodes, and two who appeared in every episode.

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Thirty-nine. Eighteen who appeared in more than one episode, seven who appeared in at least half the episodes, and one who appeared in every episode.

Positive Content Status:

Not nearly as good as you might expect or hope. As with previous seasons, the show’s most impressive content is not the feminist stuff at all, and on the feminist front it feels sometimes as if the show spends more time denouncing different aspects of the feminist movement as ‘the wrong kind of feminism’ than it does declaring and upholding the aspects it does approve. I tend to feel that it spends time talking the talk on women’s issues, but doesn’t often get up to walk the walk (average rating of 3).

General Season Quality:

Easily better than the previous two seasons, despite a deflated ending. It takes a much more focused approach to its storytelling in the beginning of the season, in a manner which briskly becomes refreshingly confronting and leads in to a powerful middle. Unfortunately, it never sustains quality for very long, and overall the show still suffers for being too easily distracted. It’s not infuriating, but it can be frustrating.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) under the cut:

Ok, let me explain something about myself first, something I’ve mentioned in other (non-Crazy Ex) posts which have gone live long before this one will, but for anyone who missed it in any of those other places, here it is: I am, right now, pregnant. In fact, I am pregnant with a child conceived non-traditionally with a gay friend of mine, and as such, Darryl’s non-traditional quest for biological parenthood in this season struck a very personal chord (though, unlike Darryl, I used the phone-a-friend option as my first choice, not a fallback. Would recommend, if it’s ever relevant to your life). I bring all of this up because I can categorically declare that there are certain plot threads that you absolutely will NOT have the same reaction to if you don’t have that very personal chord being struck, and even moreso if that chord is relevant to your life right now, rather than being something that you’ve experienced in the past but has since slipped from the forefront of your attention. Thus, when I talked about feeling like the emphasis was in all the wrong places for Darryl’s part of the narrative, and expressed irritation with Heather’s pregnancy and birth? I sure ain’t mad about it for no reason. I am extremely, extremely aware of what those processes are actually like right the heck now.

I’m not going to linger on all the details, but I am particularly annoyed at the writers for dropping the ball on the pregnancy/birth part, specifically because it’s something which is so often badly dramatised in tv and film already, and the writers not only know that, they openly reference it as if they’re somehow doing better. The same way that medical professionals sometimes find it too frustrating to watch hospital dramas because of all their inaccuracies, or someone in law enforcement might cringe their way through all the egregious breaches in procedure in a cop show, there’s always a significant risk that anything depicted in fiction will make you want to tear your hair out over the way the plot warps or disregards reality that is pertinent to your life, either through a lack of proper research or understanding of the subject matter, or a conscious choice to prioritise desired storytelling beats/developments over actual logic and realism. Suffice to say there are a LOT of concessions Crazy Ex-Girlfriend asked me to make to their storytelling with this little subplot, some of which most people who have never been pregnant wouldn’t notice, and yes, some of which I would probably dismiss if I were not in the midst of the reality right now. I’m someone who has been present at actual births before and has been raised with an above-average understanding of what’s involved, so I’m used to gritting my teeth and hoping to just not be too annoyed by the way pregnancy and birth is typically depicted on screen. The fact that I am currently immersed in the reality of preparing to give birth makes me less forgiving of fictional contrivances, yes, but in the case of this show’s approach, it’s also more than that: it’s the fact that this show actively promotes itself as a feminist text. And if you’re gonna do that, and criticise the way other things (”written by men!”) depict labour, but then you also choose not to include any education/empowerment of your pregnant character, rattle off a variety of (uneducated, disempowered) cliches anyway, and then handwave it all with ‘nevermind, she just got an epidural!’ as if that ‘solves’ the difficulties of birth (and post-birth recovery, for that matter), frankly that’s just...a really unimpressive failure of feminist storytelling. Congratulations, you neglected the subject completely, at the same time as actively claiming your intent to do better than all that written-by-men schlock out there! What a tiresome charade this turned out to be.

Setting that aside though (difficult for me, as I am...very preoccupied with it), there was actually a good lot of things to like about this season, even if I do still feel that I ultimately have more criticisms than I do praise. Having Rebecca actually reach crisis point in the form of a suicide attempt, and consequently getting a diagnosis for her mental disorder and finally being able to move forward in learning to live a balanced life with BPD? Frankly, it’s not a move that I anticipated, and if you’d asked me where I thought Rebecca’s mental health plot was heading, I probably would have just shrugged it off as an unfocused thread where the ultimate goal was just ‘figure out how to be happy on your own terms instead of defining happiness through someone else’ (which is solid advice, but generalised advice, not something that would require the show to commit to a genuine mental illness). Acknowledging that Rebecca’s behaviour comes from a more distinct source than just the nebulous idea of being ‘crazy’ is a vitally important development, and it ushered in some of the best storytelling the show has offered thus far, at least when the plot maintained steady focus and made an effort to be responsible and mature in its exploration of the issue. As ever, there were still times when the show used Rebecca’s mental state for comic relief in a manner which made me uncomfortable, and times when I couldn’t interpret the intentions of the narrative - I have come to the conclusion that this show and I are on completely different wavelengths, which makes us a bad match, regardless of any elements which I do appreciate.

On the subject of things I appreciate, I’m going to discuss the true character highlight of the show, someone I wanted to talk about after last season, not realising that if I held off until this review instead, he was gonna wind up so terribly underused in the meantime that it’s almost weird that he’s still technically part of the main cast at this point: Josh Chan. Josh Chan is...kinda the most believable part of this show, both in the bumbling good-natured balance of the character himself, and in other character’s feelings about him. Being able to buy the idea that someone would give up their whole life as they knew it to chase after this guy is kinda important to selling the concept of the show from the outset, and honestly, Josh Chan is the only time I’ve ever seen a central male love interest for whom the hype seemed to make sense. Is he perfect? Not by a long shot, but that’s fine because ‘perfection’ is as conditional as it is unattainable. The problem with male love interests, often, is that they’re written by heterosexual men who treat the character as some kind of masculine wish-fulfillment, a combination of ‘guy I wish I could be’ and ‘guy I think women should want (me)’. Josh Chan is a great example of a love interest written by women for women: he displays positive masculine-coded traits (protective, physically capable), while rejecting negative, toxic-masculine elements (aggression, possessiveness), and he embraces key ‘feminine’ traits (non-threatening, kind, soft, emotionally expressive, family-oriented), while his flaws are unobtrusive and potentially even endearing (the main one is that he’s quite stupid, which is something a lot of straight women will happily admit to liking (at least in theory), and other traits such as Josh’s childish streak can be a source of joy under some circumstances, as well as being something Josh mostly keeps a hold on so that it doesn’t become a burden to his partners). Also, it would be remiss of me to neglect to mention how refreshing and meaningful it is to have an Asian male love interest. I really enjoy not being bored to death by Josh Chan, and I am annoyed at how little of him we got this season while we wasted time with that generic slice of white bread, Nathaniel. Bring back the Chan plots, season four. Do it for me.

#Crazy Ex-Girlfriend #Crazy Ex-Girlfriend season three #Bechdel Test #female representation #full season review #Crazy Exgirlfriend

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precuredaily · 5 years

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Precure Day 118

Episode: Futari wa Precure Splash Star 20 - “Dorodoron is Singin’ in the Rain!” Date watched: 5 May 2019 Original air date: 25 June 2006 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/iruZezg Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

Oh man what an episode. It’s Dorodoron’s last stand, and he goes out in style. Michiru and Kaoru are at an ethical crossroads about their mission, Saki and Mai go on a day date to another beautiful scenic spot and Minori tags along to make a drawing for a school assignment. It’s a pretty bittersweet day for Dark Fall.

Surprisingly, the rain helps. Saki and Minori are hesitant to go out but decide to try anyway, and the rain does clear up for a bit. While they’re out, they run into Michiru and Kaoru, who were actually conversing with Dorodoron a moment before. Minori is extremely happy to see Kaoru, who was so nice to her at the bake sale a few episodes ago. Kaoru even reciprocates the kindness to a degree, surprising her sister. She honestly seems to be having fun, even when Minori is talking her ear off.

The quintet arrives at Mai’s secret spot and it is really beautiful. It’s a bamboo forest surrounded by wildflowers (hydrangeas specifically) and there’s lots of wildlife: birds, bugs, snails, everything. (Also, as a nice callback, the route involves passing through the farm from episode 4.) Mai, Minori, and even Kaoru are taken aback by the scenery. The light glistens on the raindrops on the flowers and some of the closeups are gorgeous. Minori finds a plant she wants to draw and gets busy. Unfortunately, the serenity is short-lived. Dorodoron makes his appearance, and Kaoru quickly escorts Minori away to safety. Dorodoron is strangely enthusiastic, and he reveals that when the weather is rainy and the ground is muddy, he can absorb more energy from the earth to power himself up, growing giant.

“We have a Hulk.”

Mai and Saki transform, but Dorodoron tosses them around like a salad. When they refuse to give up the fountains they’ve recovered so far, he decides to power up even more, absorbing so much energy that it saps all life from the surrounding area (a lot like Karehaan’s final attack). Choppi cries that this is how the Fountain of Earth was taken over, and Cure Bloom is sad that rain has this much destructive capacity. Flappi, however, rejects that idea, insisting that rain brings life and nourishment and Dorodoron is just abusing its power. The monster of earth doesn’t care, and he powers up even further by summoning an Uzainaa around himself, turning himself into a more monstrous form that resembles a shakoki-dogu doll.

This proves to be his undoing, as he’s very top-heavy and has a hard time balancing himself to counter the girls’ kicks and punches, so they knock him off balance and perform Twin Stream Splash on him before he can rebound. Dorodoron stealthily escapes from the Uzainaa before being destroyed, and then waits for Saki and Mai to detransform before divebombing them from the sky.

same energy

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t fully escape the purification and he’s used too much energy, and he crumbles into dust.

vimeo

I regret nothing.

There’s no time for mourning though, the Legendary Warriors have collected seven Miracle Drops which means it’s time to restore a fountain! They set off for the Fountain of Earth, which appears to be a collection of hollowed out tree stumps filled with water, surrounded by loose foliage and some other trees. I don’t know exactly what kind of biome this would be, not compared to the previous fountains.

As usual, Princess Filia appears, but this time everybody can hear her! Unfortunately, she can’t hear herself yet, but she says that the fountains they have restored so far have started to heal the Great Life Tree and that may turn into a great source of power for them in the future, but a great hardship still lies ahead of them.

From their post on Gourd Rock, Michiru and Kaoru comment that it’s their turn next and they’ll recapture the fountains quickly enough.

Back at the Hyuuga residence, Minori shows off her completed drawing to Saki and Mai: a picture of all five of them surrounded by flowers! She says she drew what brought her the most enjoyment.

If you find these last few statements to be in contrast..... well, wait and see.

Oh, there is so much to discuss here. First, let us give an ode to Dorodoron. He wasn’t as fun as Moerumba, but despite being constantly shat upon by the Kiryuus and Gohyaan, he was actually the most competent villain so far. (Admittedly he got some advice in the softball episode) He made plans to weaken the girls before he even fought them, tried to keep them apart from each other to prevent using their powers, and almost won. He had generally good plans, losing because he underestimated the power of their bond, because he played his hand too early, or because he was a tad overconfident in himself and the girls exploited an opening. I’m trying to remember how Ms. Shitataare plays out, I don’t think she is terribly crafty, and Kintolesky is all about being strong so strategy isn’t really his ballpark. The Kiryuus have good ideas.... but they mostly fed them to Dorodoron. I’ll weigh in on them after episode 22.

As for the Kiryuus, Kaoru in particular seems to be turning over a new leaf. She demonstrates sincere enjoyment at spending time with Minori, seems to appreciate the nature, and at once point she notices a snail on a leaf. It falls off, she bends over and places it back. None of this escapes Michiru’s notice, who asks her later if she was protecting Minori, and has some kind of sympathy for the humans.

vimeo

Michiru is having a harder time accepting the good side of her and her sister, and she still seems to sincerely believe that Dark Fall is the side to play for. Kaoru clearly has more reservations, and she’s more open with her feelings. @sailor-rurouni made the following observation on my episode 18 review: “I feel like this... shows us the difference between how Kaoru and Michiru “pass” in society: Kaoru doesn’t even bother to try and so she is perceived as either brutally or refreshingly honest..., and Michiru does get why she should try to act normal and makes a pretty good attempt, but this results in her compartmentalizing her feelings and, arguably, being more ruthless.” That has never been clearer than in this episode, as Kaoru just does what she feels like while Michiru tries to play nice but doesn’t understand her sister’s actions. I mentioned this last episode as well, but due to real life circumstances, Kaoru has a new voice actress now, Okamura Akemi, who has a much sharper voice than her predecessor. The two sisters were almost indistinguishable in voice before, now Kaoru speaks more curtly, not mincing her words. This speaks to her personality better, and while it’s jarring to hear the change, it might work out better in the long run.

I like the small commentary by Flappi and Choppi about how the elements of nature can be used or abused. Rain is useful in sustaining life, but too much rain creates mud, which is a hard environment for terrestrial plants. Perhaps there’s a metaphor in this show about how the disparate forces of nature, when separated (Dark Fall), can wreak havoc, but when they all work together, life prospers. That might be a level deeper than intended, or it might be right on the money. I won’t say I’m the most astute at picking out subliminal messages.

Last thing I want to talk about: Saki totally dabs in this episode.

dab on ‘em

yes, I made this joke on PCD-Status as well, but it bore repeating.

Okay so obviously it’s not really a dab, Saki did that anime thing where someone falls over after having their expectations subverted, but the posture is about right. Just roll with it.

Next time, Michiru and Kaoru have to defeat the Precures and recover the fountains. What will this mean for their friendship? Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 1 Zekkouchou Nari!

Miracle Drop Count: 7, then 0

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Futari wa Precure Splash Star #FWPCSS20 #PCD018

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hirazuki · 6 years

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I’m going to try and summarize what bothers me about VLD from as objective a standpoint as possible. A lot of people, including myself, have already made posts pointing out specific issues, especially with regards to the messages it sends to abuse victims, so I’m not going to touch on that or any type of emotional issues here at all. I’m going to skip specifics except where needed as examples, and just talk about the nature of story telling itself. As someone who not only has used fiction for escapism, but who has studied story telling both in terms of literary analysis of novels and of religious texts, it’s a subject that I feel very strongly about.

Warning: long ass post.

Okay, a couple of disclaimers first.

One, I am a firm believer in the “don’t like, don’t read” mentality. If I don’t like something, I don’t talk about it, I just move on. Y’all have never seen a single discourse post about The Dragon Prince, right? Yup, that’s ‘cause I really didn’t like it. It goes for countless other things too. I don’t expend time and effort and energy on things I don’t like, that’s just wasteful. So, why am I harping on VLD? Because I really enjoyed it, despite a couple of what I felt were minor issues at the time, for most of its run. That’s why I -- and I imagine the same goes for many other fans -- am so bitter.

Two, I came late into the Voltron universe. I joined in a couple of days before s6 dropped, and only watched DotU as well as the other Western versions in the past couple of months. Haven’t had a chance to see the original Japanese anime yet.

Three, I’m not a shipper, in general. I don’t ship anything in VLD except Zarkon/Honerva. Romance/sexual stuff is just not my thing, I’ll take swords and explosions any day over that. So my saltiness regarding the series has nothing to do with ships.

Alright, so I think my major gripes with the series can be sorted into three categories:

1. Inconsistency of Story Type:

This is, of course, my own opinion, but through my time of consuming fiction, I think there are three types of stories:

Good vs. Evil: the most basic type of story. The good guys are good, the bad guys are bad, and everyone stays well in their lanes. Think Disney movies, typical Saturday morning cartoons -- the heroes are exemplary of good traits, the villains are one-dimensional and unrepentant, evil for the sake of being evil. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this story type imo, and there are several stories of this nature that I really do enjoy.

Grey Morality: a much more nuanced take on the concepts of good and evil, right and wrong. Due to the very nature of grey morality, there are varying degrees to which this can be implemented. Probably the most common one I’ve seen is where the heroes do some bad/questionable things, the villains/antagonists do some good things or have the right motives or are “noble” in some way; but overall, there is a sense that there are certain lines that shouldn’t be crossed, certainly by the heroes but also sometimes by the villains/antagonists too. An excellent example of this is Firefly. Another example, that puts a total twist on it by having the protagonist also be the “villain,” is Death Note -- even though the story resolves in a way that to the audience is, really, the only sustainable way possible, it still leaves neither the characters in-show nor the audience with any sense of victory. This concept is taken to the extreme by a series like Tenpou Ibun: Ayakashi Ayashi, where no one is right and no one is wrong, but at the same time everyone is right and wrong, and simply just human. There is no good and no evil, just context, circumstances, and choices.

Combination: this type of story starts with the Good vs. Evil dichotomy but, as the story progresses and the protagonist becomes more acquainted and involved with their environment, both the protagonist and the audience come to understand that the picture is actually much more complicated than that, and it evolves into Grey Morality. Bleach is a great example. We start with seeing the Hollow as evil, mindless monsters that need to be killed; we learn that they are actually human spirits that have transformed into “monsters” through pain and grief and, therefore, we pity them but also understand that it’s a mercy to put them down; we then find out that, actually, not all are mindless and they have a complicated society and culture of their own; and, eventually, come to accept them as (reluctant) allies against a bigger threat, understanding that they are creatures in their own right.

From the moment that Keith -- arguably the character within the main cast that had the most time/character development spent on him -- was revealed as being half-Galra (that is, half the “evil” race of the show), VLD promised to be that third type of story. Because there is no way that the writers would make one of their protagonists evil by default because of his blood in a kids’ show, duh, so by logical conclusion this means that that race is not all evil, after all. This was further emphasized by Lotor’s introduction to the plot -- a severe departure from his character in any previous incarnation -- and cemented by the episode, “The Legend Begins,” where we finally get to see the other side of things and the fact that not even Zarkon and Haggar were “born evil,” as well.

After the Keith reveal, we got shocked reactions from his teammates, notably and understandably Allura; got only an apology from her and not the rest for their treatment of him (which could have been better but, whatever, it was a step in the right direction, great!); and then... back to a weird strained relationship in working alongside Galra without another word on the subject.

Okay. Fine.

Then we get Lotor -- again, some of that initial resentment/treatment could be understandable to some extent, and eventually on the road towards, seemingly, genuine acceptance. Cool.

I won’t go into details about the colony episode, because that’s been done to death already, but, woah, major setback there. Back to the knee-jerk reaction of treating individuals of a race as complicit and responsible for the actions and perception of that race as perpetuated by a handful of individuals. And then -- flash forward to s8 -- we are welcoming Galra allies in our cause! Please join our Coalition! We want to help you!

Look. I’m not saying that you can’t retcon stuff; that you can’t go Good vs. Evil, develop into Grey Morality, and then reveal something and BOOM, jk, it was Good vs. Evil all along, gotcha! I’m sure that there is an author somewhere out there that has pulled that off effectively (I can’t think of any examples myself right now, but I’m sure it must exist somewhere).

I am saying that if you’re going to do that -- if you are going to pull the rug out from under everyone’s feet and sacrifice some crucial character development (and crucial characters themselves, let’s be honest) -- you better have a DAMN GOOD IN-UNIVERSE reason for doing so. And no, shock value or getting rid of a character because they were overshadowing the protags doesn’t count. Otherwise, your protagonists will look like giant jerks. Unless, of course, that’s what you’re going for, but I highly doubt that was the thinking here.

And then, we proceed to flip flop between “I knew it, the Galra are irredeemably evil, what’s wrong with these people?!” (I think Hunk -- HUNK, by far the most empathetic character -- said this at some point in s7?) and “Here, we can work together towards a brighter future” or some shit. You can’t do that. I mean you can, but you’re gonna get major backlash from your audience. Pick a fucking direction and stick with it.

For the past three seasons, it has really felt like the story line is being pulled into two different directions: 1) staying true to the original source material of Paladins = good, Galra/Drule = bad, and 2) providing the viewers with a groundbreaking, nuanced interpretation.

My dudes. You can’t have both. Trying to implement both of these approaches means having morally grey, nuanced characters operating within a narrative framework that is subject to an overarching principle of a strict Good/Evil dichotomy. Do you know how fucking hard that is to pull off effectively without diving headfirst into the pitfall of punishing your morally grey characters by default, simply because they happen to exist in a universe that cannot, by nature, support them???? I can think of only a handful of authors that have managed that and, I would argue, that the man at the top of the list only managed to be so effective and influential because what he wrote was, in essence, a mythology. Mythologies have a totally different set of concerns surrounding them. And even then, he went to great lengths, both in his works and outside of them in discussions/interviews, to note that the “evil” in his world could never have happened without it intentionally being part of the larger cosmological design, i.e. balance. I’m talking, of course, about Tolkien.

Why the fuck would you attempt to pull something like this off in a kids’ cartoon?! Avatar: The Last Airbender, since everyone loves that comparison, was defined by a black/white view that developed into a very simple grey morality, and it was this limited scope that allowed it to be presented so effectively. None of this sashaying back and forth.

Especially when this flip flopping is done for le dramatic effect/shock value, with seemingly no good in-story reason?? Of course it’s gonna fall flat.

2. Concept vs. Execution:

This is probably what drives me crazy the most about VLD.

As an idea, it was fucking brilliant -- anyone who has watched DotU, even with all the nostalgia, I imagine, can admit that it was very much a cut and dry 80s cartoon, with simple concerns; Vehicle Voltron attempted some nuances, but the Lion Voltron part of the show, which was by far the more popular part, was pretty stiff in that regard. VLD took that and introduced themes like: being biracial (Keith, Lotor, etc.), having to choose between duty and family (Krolia), having to choose between personal dreams and important relationships (Shiro), having to overcome deep-seated understandable prejudice and work with people you never thought you could come to stand for a greater cause and through that see that not everything is black and white and attain a greater understanding of the world (Allura), leaving home and learning to survive in a totally foreign environment in the worst circumstances possible (the paladins), dealing with disability, mental illness/ptsd while also dealing with issues of being in a position of leadership/power (Shiro), parental abuse (Lotor), substance abuse (Honerva and Zarkon), being a clone and coming to terms with that (Shiro/Kuron), learning to compromise and sacrifice personal integrity/morals for the betterment/survival of those you have made yourself responsible for (the paladins), and so much more than that. Lotor’s relationship with Honerva/Haggar had serious undertones of both Mother and Child symbolism, as well as Arthurian legend. The whole quintessence thing drew pointers from ancient and medieval concepts of alchemy.

The inclusion of any of these things, injected into a pretty straightforward and tame original source material like DotU, was inspired. What an absolutely fantastic take, with incredible potential.

... and it was the shoddiest, shittiest implementation and execution of any concepts that I have ever seen. Like... how? How did they manage to not be able to successfully see any of these themes to a close, and to actually offend the vast majority of their fanbase (regardless of background, age, race, sexuality, literally from all walks of life) by the way these themes were handled????

I’m sure time restraints, direction from above, etc., played a big part in it, but still. If you don’t have time to properly develop the interpersonal relationships between the core members of your main group of characters -- to the point that, say, Keith and Pidge? Hunk and Shiro? Did they ever properly, truly have any meaningful interactions? -- there’s no way you could properly handle all of this.

Don’t bite off more than you can chew.

Also? As stories are being fleshed out, they and their characters tend to take on a life of their own. The Lotor/Keith parallels? I totally believe and understand how it’s possible that it was unintentional. But when that happens, you go back and rework the rest of your plot to make sense with what you now have before you. You adjust and adapt. You don’t barrel on ahead headless and not acknowledging it, and you don’t force your characters into straitjackets just because you want to doggedly follow this one idea.

3. The Female Lead:

Let me begin by saying that I really, really wanted to like Allura, and the way she was written was one of the biggest turn offs and disappointments for me. I won’t go into specifics regarding her, as there many posts that already address the problematic nature of how she treats people of her race vs. anyone Galra, but I will just look at her character development as a whole.

Perhaps the easiest way for me to voice my frustrations here would be with a comparison. Let’s look at my favorite female protagonist of all time, Nakajima Youko, from Juuni Kokuki (aka. The Twelve Kindgoms).

Youko starts off as a very meek high school girl, from a typical modern Japanese family. Class representative, top grades, is scared of conflict and wants to live up to everyone’s expectations of her, which makes her very submissive, a total coward emotionally, mentally, and physically. She seeks to please everyone and, as a result, harms her own development by never giving any thought to her own desires and ends up bullied by everyone around her. Magic happens, shit goes down, and she is whisked away to a different world that is parallel to our own, along with two friends from school; ripped from her home, her family, with absolutely no way back. This other world has a different language, people who end up in there from our world are treated like garbage and are slaves, has a medieval level of tech/advancement, and Youko with her friends has to figure out how to survive. She finds out she is actually queen of one of the realms in this world, which makes her a target of various groups. She is betrayed by literally everyone around her, everyone she places her trust in, including the two friends that got transported to this world with her.

She goes from meek and mild to bloodthirsty and brash; lashing out at everyone around her, plotting to kill those that offer her a helping hand, becoming unreasonably suspicious and racist and way out of line. Understandably so, but the narrative doesn’t, for one moment, present this as okay. Some more stuff happens and she finally snaps out of it, comes to a couple of realizations, and has major character development. She develops the attitude that, yes, people have betrayed and hurt her, but their actions towards her and their opinion of her is none of her business. It will not stop her from acting in ways that are in line with her own morals; if people choose to betray and use her, that’s on them. She will simply do what she must, and treat everyone as an individual according to their actions. This doesn’t mean that she adopts a pushover mentality -- it just means that she loses her knee-jerk reaction, and doesn’t rush to conclusions. She becomes a badass warrior and queen, strong and just, and, frankly, one of the most well-developed female characters I have ever seen.

Do I think this is the only way to write a strong female character? Of course not. But I’m convinced this is what the writers wanted to do with Allura, this kind of progression and path, from being angry, lost, and alone to being a confident, capable, magnificent ruler. And, imo, they totally missed the mark.

I think that the writers were so focused on giving us a “strong” modern female character, and getting as far away from her DotU damsel in distress depiction as possible, that they ended up writing her as, basically, a bully. Sure, they tell us -- both through other characters’ words in the show and through interviews -- about her diplomacy, peaceful nature, leadership quality, open-mindedness, etc., but they never show it to us. In almost every key moment in the series, she has been written to be combative and suffering from tunnel-vision.

And a huge part of this is that they simply didn’t give her any room to grow. Youko’s character started off at maybe... 5% of her potential? She was honestly so “weak,” I thought about dropping the series. But by the point the anime ended (because the story itself is unfinished and unlikely to continue, unfortunately), I’d say she’s at around 70%. That makes for an extremely dramatic, fulfilling, and believable character development. The VLD writers started Allura off much higher than that. Too high. From the get-go she’s a highly accomplished martial artist, has incredible physical strength due to her Altean heritage, a seemingly natural affinity for leadership and for appealing to people, she’s very attractive, well spoken, had a loving and supportive family, is a princess, had a brilliant alchemist for a father, has access to the universe’s greatest super weapon -- I mean, yes, she’s had to deal with immense loss and grief and come to terms with it in a very short period of time, and lost her father a second time so to speak with Alfor’s AI -- but overall, everything has been set up and handed to her in a nice package. Other than overcoming her hatred towards the Galra and idealization of Altea/Alteans, really, there’s nothing left for her to do that would be defining for her character.

That’s not to say that characters that are extremely accomplished from the start are a bad thing. But in their case, their emotional and mental development and maturity is that much more important, because that’s all that’s left to work with. The writers didn’t really give Allura any significant room to grow in terms of any of that. (And no, I don’t consider her new alchemical powers from Oriande as her growing; she expended no effort for that, it wasn’t really a trial at all for her; it was like me playing a video game on casual mode with the “killallenemies” console command enabled). Her overcoming her racism towards the Galra, beginning with Keith and BoM and continuing to do so with subsequent Galra allies, had a TON of potential and I had been so excited to see where it would go; but that fell flat, totally forgotten by the story.

In contrast, you have Lotor -- we see him struggling to claw his way out of the hand that fate has dealt him, to grow beyond his family’s influence and abuse. Both on and off screen, even described by his own enemies in great detail, we see just how much he has had to fight and to earn everything he has and he is, even things that shouldn’t have to be “earned” in the first place. He’s lost Daibazaal and Altea, both his father and his mother, he’s too Galra for anyone who’s not and not nearly enough Galra for anyone who is. Literally nothing has been handed to him. The juxtaposition between him and Allura, had Allura been given more breathing room by the writers, could have been fantastic and I would have shipped the hell out of it, like I do in DotU. She’s had everything he’s ever wanted (loving family, supportive father, Alfor himself, exploration, alchemy), etc.; envy would have been extremely appropriate on his part, and very interesting to work through, but that was never explored either.

So, I feel like what ended up happening was that a huge imbalance in how these two characters came across was created, made only more evident when their relationship with each other was what was front and center. And, at least for me, this is what makes me completely unable to see Allura’s side of things, and I freely admit it -- I simply don’t understand her or her actions, because I don’t feel like I’ve been shown enough of her inner workings as a character to be able to care about her in the slightest. I can definitely see where the writers were going with her, or where they thought they were going. But unless they actually meant for the character that is, for all intents and purposes, their female lead to be a racist, abusive, immature person playing at being an adult and at being the leader of a coalition spanning galaxies, who has no problem condemning millions of lives to death and devastation at a whim of her emotions because they are Valid™, and who wades dangerously close to “Mary Sue” territory many times due the way the narrative frames her... then all I see on screen is an unfinished character. Unfinished, because the writers didn’t take any opportunities in the narrative for the flaws and issues she does have to be addressed and overcome, opportunities of which there were plenty! I absolutely don’t mind that she has flaws -- flawed heroes are amazing. But, you gotta do something about them, i.e. address them and work through them. Otherwise your heroes remain static in a plot that is evolving and that’s not a good look.

And, you know, I honestly think DotU Allura is a much stronger female character. She works for everything she gets. She works her ass off. She has to fight to not only be allowed to be part of the team and fly a lion, but even just to do everyday common things like be out in the fields or swim or whatever; forget practicing martial arts. Coran literally ties her up at one point to prevent her from participating. Nanny is a constant battle for her. Over everything, from her clothes to her manner of speaking to where she’s going. But she doesn’t stop, she doesn’t give up. And she fucks up, BIG TIME, several times, she does TONS of stupid shit. But she learns, acknowledges it, gets called out on it, tries again, and keeps on trying. DotU Allura’s biggest battles, in my mind, aren’t with Lotor or the Drule forces or Zarkon, but with her own team and those she considers family, and her struggle for the others’ acceptance of herself and her skills within the group. And for that, she is a much stronger, more solid female character than VLD Allura, despite all superficial appearances and frilly pink dresses and 80s voice acting.

Again, like I said in a previous post, I don’t conform to the view that creators owe their fans anything. Write things however the fuck you want. You want to kill Allura off, fine. Do away with Lotor too? Cool. I completely understand people who want happy endings in fiction because, it’s true, reality fucking sucks; there are several fictional works I turn to whenever real life is too much. And I would be lying if I said that I don’t crave stories where characters like Lotor are given happy endings; of course I want my favorite characters to be okay. But overall, I’m the type of person who, as long as things make for an effective, compelling narrative, I’ll be content with it, regardless of whether the ending is tragic or happy or anything in between.

So you want to kill off your morally grey character and your female lead, who is also one of the only women on the team, who is also a princess figure, who has also been completely visually redesigned in such a way that you know women of color will relate to her? That’s fine by me, go right ahead. But do so in a way that is meaningful and makes sense within the larger narrative you created, and isn’t some empty, sensationalist gesture.

And also be aware of your fanbase. This is a reboot -- that comes with certain expectations attached, as a number of the viewers will very likely be fans of the old series, watching out of curiosity, nostalgia, etc. Expectations like, the princess lives, the heroes aren’t assholes, etc. (and I’m referring to expectations from DotU and other Western iterations, rather than the original Japanese series). You don’t have to conform to these expectations -- personally, I’m a big fan of tropes being subverted -- but you need to be aware of them. You need to know the rules before you break them, and if you break them, you better break them damn well.

Imo, VLD ultimately failed to deliver on these fronts, and pretty much fell prey to what a lot of series do -- it couldn’t handle the shift from being primarily episodic in nature (i.e., each episode is self-contained, with a clear beginning, middle, and end, while operating under a distant general goal, like defeating Zarkon; so, s1 and s2) to becoming a more complex narrative unraveling a hidden agenda (s3 onwards). Kind of like how the paladins made no provisions for how they would handle things after Zarkon’s defeat, it feels like the writers didn’t really have one solid plan for how to develop past that point as well.

tl;dr: Whoever is responsible for the way VLD turned out should write a book: how to offend your entire audience in eight seasons or less.

#okay i think this is my last personal post on the matter #i think i've vented about everything that's been bugging me for the past couple of seasons #i'll still reblog and comment on things i find interesting #but i'm gonna focus my energy on constructive stuff #like plucking the hairline of lotor's wig and writing fanfic :)#talk: v

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keplercryptids · 6 years

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response to jesse thorn re: accessibility

someone posted the petition to reddit awhile ago (not me lolol, i stay as far away from reddit as humanly possible), and jesse thorn responded. i only just saw this now so uhh, let’s get into this, shall we?

Jesse: Yeah, we agreed to launch with a transcription service called Gretta that covered ONRAC and Reading Glasses. They're some kind of machine learning startup, their model isn't providing transcripts, it's about using podcasts to get AI to understand talking and how people interact with spoken audio....Ultimately we're grateful they do this, but don't feel it's reliable in the long- or even medium-term.

well, we agree on this point. Gretta isn’t a solution. last i checked, the last ONRAC episode they transcribed was in august.

i put the rest under a readmore because it’s a long one, folks, and content warning: i get really angry at the end.

Jesse: We transcribed The Turnaround through a combination of a startup journalism-oriented transcription service and staff time. We found that both sides of that equation were extremely expensive.

automated transcriptionist services aren’t super great so again, we agree.

Jesse: A lot of companies doing transcription are opening and closing lately, we've been tracking them, looking at whether any of them could do any of this efficiently and affordably. When Bullseye had a transcriptionist, we found that just the process of editing and posting the transcripts he provided was taking like half a day of the producer's time, and at the time that was like 15% of her total Bullseye workload, and it just wasn't sustainable.

i don’t know how to tell you this bud, but you had a shitty transcriptionist. a good transcriptionist’s work would not require editing after the fact. they should transcribe and format everything to agreed-upon specifications beforehand, and their final product should be ready to publish immediately. i’m not really sure who was transcribing your stuff before but it doesn’t sound like they were a professional.

Jesse: We are also somewhat hamstrung by the nature of our relationship with our shows, most of which are independently owned and produced; none of this is something we can do unilaterally, and none of it is something we can lay the cost of at the feet of our show creators. Transcripts are a very major expense even for our biggest shows - around a thousand dollars a month per show. That's more than a number of our shows make in total.

i have no idea where he’s getting this number from but....that’s just not true. to give you an idea, independent contractor transcriptionists make about $1/minute of audio. some make more than that, sure, but that’s a pretty standard rate. (how do i know? i used to be one.) so even for a show posting once a week (many of which do not), that’s about $250 a month per show with hour-long episodes. going through a company would probably be more expensive, yeah, but again, he’s throwing these numbers out without any context or receipts. it seems like another tactic to garner sympathy from his audience because it’s omg! a big scary number!

Jesse: We are still a very small company that is supported by its audience, not a big VC-backed corporation.

and your audience would very much support a drive to raise funds for transcripts.

Jesse: That said, this really is something we have worked on continuously for years. I care very much about accessibility, Bikram cares very much about it, and our hosts and producers care about it. I'm sure as a JJGo listener you've heard about this, but my father is disabled, and he worked for a number of years with his best friend Ed Roberts, who was probably the most significant leader of the independent living movement in the 1970s, 80s and into the 90s. I met Jesse Jackson during his 1988 presidential campaign because my father was writing policy speeches for him regarding independent living. I've also got two kids with audio processing challenges. Accessibility is very personal to me. I've put a lot of time into trying to find a sustainable answer. We just haven't found one yet.

ahh, this. this. i mean, i hope a lot of you see the problems with this without me saying anything. i’ll continue to be amazed by folks with personal ties to disabled people who still do and say ableist things at the drop of a hat. it’s..... just astounding, really.

Jesse: I would love to meet every goal we have as a company, but we have a pretty wide breadth of goals, and we can't meet any of them if the books don't balance. I honestly would just say thank you to those folks like you and ILyr who have shared with us that this is important to them, and ask folks who are calling me a heartless asshole monster on the internet to understand that we are pushing forward on many fronts, and working to run as moral and world-bettering a company as we can, but our resources are what they are, and we have to make hard choices every day.

jesse, my dude? people are calling you a heartless asshole because less than a year ago, you posted on reddit that disabled people are “better off” consuming visual comedy because written comedy wouldn’t translate. less than a year ago, you said you could not see the value in transcripts for comedic shows. you said an asshole thing, and you’ve run an entirely inaccessible network for years now.

until the petition gained thousands of signatures, you did NOT assert that accessibility is important to you, either personally or professionally. before thousands of people told you this was important, you did not state that it was important to you at all. you ignored individuals who reached out to you about accessibility. your public response was that it cost too much money. suddenly now, with this petition, this is something you’ve “worked on continuously for years.” but before that, you sang a very different tune. your past responses (and lack thereof) are not those of a person who deeply cares about accessibility and who is committed to finding a solution. this is why people are calling you an asshole.

the above two paragraphs are so “woe is me” that it’s actually impressive. i don’t feel bad for you, jesse. i feel bad for the disabled communities who have had to band together to create transcripts for ourselves. i feel bad for the thousands of people that have been completely cut off from podcasts since their inception. i feel bad for disabled people that always, always, always have to advocate for themselves, because even their family members don’t see the value in accessibility. and i hope - i genuinely hope - for a better, more accessible world for your children. i’m gonna keep fighting for that world, even if you discredit me because i called you an asshole.

Jesse: My biggest hope at the moment in this particular area is that the big tech companies (Amazon, Google and Apple) are all working really hard on voice recognition right now, and Google specifically has promised machine transcripts will be built into their app in the future. That and other platform improvements may change the game here. We will be actively engaged from now until then.

waiting for the tech to catch up is a strategy, i guess. it’s a really fucking bad one though. if we all did that, guess what? there would be no image descriptions and blind people would have no access to visual elements of the internet. cool, though. i guess we’ll just have to cross our fingers and hope mega-corporations care about us.

anyway. that’s my hot take. i’m gonna go lie down now until my blood pressure is back to normal.

#max fun #maxfun #jesse thorn #quit jesse thorn #discourse #i guess #accessibility #ableism #everyday ableism #why we want transcripts #maximum fun

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rigelwrites-blog · 5 years

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Lorelai: Discussion and Review

The Cat Lady, from the basis of my personal perspective, was a brilliantly haunting, poignant experience that tactfully and cleverly explored grim, deeply philosophical concepts such as death, grief, self-harm, depression, and suicide. It adroitly cultivated its atmosphere to effectively and realistically convey the overhanging bleakness of Susan’s life while avoiding miring the narrative in unnecessary, ostentatious darkness. In many ways, it seems Lorelai has managed to emulate the harrowing realism of its predecessor, while similarly employing abstract imagery to establish and amplify the palpable emotional tone. The expression of this profound pathos and visual symbolism was augmented through variation in both the color palette between settings and the intensity or saturation of certain hues, particularly red. More specifically, I appreciated the implementation of softer, warmer tones to embellish the wistful filter overlaying Lorelai’s joyous memories with her father, which contrasted the harsher colors and shadows denoting her stark reality. Additionally, it was devastating to see Miranda’s death even though it had been unfortunately rather likely, considering that, when someone’s thoughts are as despairing and volatile as hers were, it’s exceptionally dangerous to be left alone with them.

Beyond the seemingly implied, deeper connection between The Queen of Maggots and Lorelei, I wonder if the Queen selected Lorelei in particular as the executor of her will as a result of Lorelei’s tenacity and her embodiment of a true “survivor”. In a sense, an individual with an indomitable spirit, who essentially represents the refusal to capitulate even amidst confrontation with the vilest of circumstances, would harbor the insatiable desire to protract their life and quell any lingering regrets, thereby rendering them susceptible to the tantalizing bargain offered by the Queen. Lorelei cannot expunge the compulsion to protect her sister from the maleficent hands of John and finally secure freedom for them both, and, consequently, she acquiesces to the Queen, just as the demonic woman likely anticipated she would.

Concerning the characterization of Lorelei and Zack, I personally found them to be just a bit too calm when conversing in Zack’s apartment in consideration of the traumatic, ineffably disturbing situations they recently endured and witnessed. Perhaps their somewhat relaxed and even flirtatious attitudes at this particular moment could be attributable to difficulties in processing the reality of what transpired, as well as the immediate need for the distraction and comfort of each other’s company and congenial, flippant conversation. Regardless, I still would have preferred some additional development for these characters during their quiet scene together, particularly through the presentation of their respective emotional responses to the profound stimuli of facing death and irredeemable wickedness. Further intimate moments between the two could have sufficed to augment the audience’s personal connection and understanding of these characters and the true depth of their personalities.

In a way, the chapter with Al was rather reflective of the anxiety mini-game from The Cat Lady, which externalized the precarious balance of Susan’s mental stability by demonstrating the pronounced repercussions incurred from her cumulative experiences of various stressors. For Al’s circumstance, it seems that the nature of Lorelai’s sudden influence over him serves as the sole determinant of the fragility of his resolve and represents the dangerous tenuity of the line existing between redemption and regression. Essentially, Lorelai was imbued with the ability to either inspire Al to surmount his depressive state and become a survivor like her, or, shatter his attempts at remediation and force him to submit to his pernicious tendencies, just as her stepfather and mother did. Though Lorelai is supernaturally capable in this situation and can affect both Al’s surroundings and his mind, I consider some of her whispered sentiments to be rather emulative of intrusive thoughts that, in their injuriousness and pessimistic cruelty, oft hinder the path towards sustained progress.

In addition to their literal meaning as a method of transportation and escape, trains have also been rather metaphoric in this game, seemingly representing a more symbolic journey or liberation from the debilitating circumstances and mentalities that have entrapped both Al and Lorelai. Lorelai is impeded in the forward momentum of her life by her corrosive home environment, and, as potentially implied through the imagery of a train battering through her apartment building as it speeds along, she is a survivor who fights for her future, regardless of what she must do or destroy to progress. Conversely, it seems in Al’s negative route that he himself was an obstacle in the track towards betterment and, in his inability to move forward, he was left behind, his journey coming to an abrupt end.

In general, the quiet moments and honest discussions on the intricacies of depression in The Cat Lady were more resonant with me personally than the situations that Lorelai is subjected to. That being said, the conveyance of the harrowing events of this game and their emotional undertones was beautifully accomplished. Additionally, the lingering possibility of redemption or progression for these characters certainly contributes much appreciated instances of warmth and hope to an otherwise rather dismal, grave story.

In consideration of the dialogue and visual representation of the Queen, it seems certain interpretations of The Queen of Maggots and her symbolic significance can be discerned. Essentially, imagery appertaining to mirrors or facing one’s reflection, prevalent in the final confrontation between the two Lorelais, appears to infer that the Queen herself is a physical manifestation of the darker, pernicious, yet oft concealed inclinations that all of humanity experiences to variable degrees. In a sense, the Queen and her machinations are also rather representative of the external or environmental stressors which trigger the emergence and outward expression of these negative attributes. In the context of the game’s universe, the “thorns” of the Queen’s corruptive influence ensnare the frail, suggestible minds of her victims, translate their desperation into capitulation, and, eventually, induce dire, grim consequences. These ramifications often involve considerable anguish for the individuals trapped in the vicinity of someone else’s destruction, thus, the cycle of trauma, mental devolution, and death exists in perpetuity, thereby fulfilling the monstrous Queen’s insatiable need to consume, like a true maggot, the corpses of the pained, lost, or damned. Lorelai can perhaps be interpreted as a symbol for the transcendence of these tribulations, as it appears she ultimately overcomes both her stepfather and the Queen herself regardless of the route, though the lingering grasp of the Queen and the regression she represents restrains Lorelai and somewhat limits the extent of her personal progression in the “bad” endings.

With respect to the overall impression Lorelai imparted upon me, I suppose I feel rather ambivalent, as certain scenes and elements were beautifully portrayed while others seemed to be a bit lacking in substance and depth. There are indubitably positive attributes to be enumerated, particularly the depiction of alcoholism and the generally inspiring message underlying the narrative and its culmination. It’s certainly quite appreciated and somewhat aberrant for a game to conclude with an accurate presentation of the mundanities and natural oscillations of highs and lows which define the course of an average life. As explored thematically throughout the extent of this game, grief, devastation, and turbulence are immutable inevitabilities of human experience that necessitate solidity of the will and persistence to healthily overcome. Though the path towards self-betterment, redemption, and contentment is sinuous and occasionally regressive, the cumbrous journey is undoubtedly worth the tribulations and set-backs we endure along the way.

As I’ve already expatiated on my interpretation of Lorelai’s purpose as a representation of resilience and pertinacity in spite of horrific circumstances, I’ll instead delve into a few of the aspects and sections of the game that I consider to be a tad weak. I mentioned earlier on that certain conversations seemed somewhat out of place and irreverent in contrast to the depravity and disillusionment the characters had recently experienced. The tonal shift was quite rapid, and, consequently, these individuals were deprived of the opportunity to emotionally respond or effectively contend with the actualities and implications of their harrowing situations. Overall, it seemed there was some misappropriation of time and focus throughout the game, as certain characters such as Maria, Zoe, and the other nursing home residents were granted comparatively considerable portions of the narrative despite, ultimately, having little significance to the overarching plot or Lorelai’s personal development. In general, ancillary characters and sections are beneficially employed to showcase facets of the protagonist’s personality and facilitate their growth, or, further the conveyance and clarity of the main theme. Outside of Al, Chapter 2’s characters were essentially forgotten about and devoid of greater purpose and detailed exploration, retrospectively rendering this chapter slightly hollow and empty. I was anticipating the replication of Lorelai’s experiences with Al in future chapters where these discarded side characters would be more effectively anatomized.

Concerning Zack and Lorelai, I still somewhat maintain my aforementioned perspective on the extent of the development and depth provided for them individually and as a couple. To me, it seemed their interactions were a tad flat and shallow with respect to the subject matter discussed and the depicted intimacy of their personal, emotional connection. Zack, himself, appears to have no demonstrable or notable personality arc beyond the rather commonplace, archetypal neighbor who finally acquires the ability to articulate his love when faced with the prospect of imminent death.

I’m a bit more equivocal when analyzing Lorelai herself and, by extension, the overarching structure and flow of the narrative itself. I suppose the greatest issue I encountered when recollecting the events of the game is the limited internal elasticity and growth that Lorelai seems to experience between the beginning and end of her journey. Though her circumstances and surrounding environment are improved substantially, her inner personality, beliefs, inclinations, and desires remain rather immutable and unchallenged by her experiences with the Queen. Regardless of your choices in actions and dialogue, Lorelai is generally the same person and an uncompromising “survivor” in the end, varying only in the amount of regrets and lingering difficulties she faces. However, Lorelai can potentially express wildly variable opinions throughout her time in the afterlife on the basis of your direction, for instance, she can harbor little sympathy for the frustrated mother in the AA group and the alcoholic Al, resolutely deciding that his life is irredeemable and should be sacrificed for the sake of her own desires. Alternatively, she can help him and defy the Queen, though the significance of this choice is rather undermined considering Lorelai suffers no evident consequences from her insubordination. I suppose I would have preferred greater divergence in the endings to reflect the pronounced dissimilarity in her perspectives and submission to the Queen’s will. Even in the positive, “golden” route, I believe Lorelai’s characterization and progression would have been a bit more realistic and dimensional had she initially lacked empathy and compassion for others who cannot as easily combat or surmount their debilitating situations. Lorelai’s unwavering strength and tenacity are not ubiquitous traits, and it would have been interesting to explore her process of recognizing and accepting the innate heterogeneity of human resolve and mental stability. Perhaps she could have accomplished this through her experiences delving into the specific circumstances of her assigned “parasites” and witnessing the true fragility of the boundary between recovery and capitulation. Conversely, the negative route would demonstrate the ramifications of austerity and the unwillingness to understand or forgive the flaws and injurious behaviors of others, instead electing to acrimoniously judge and consequently punish the people she gains influence over.

An evocative experience, nonetheless.

#VideoGameDiscussions

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thehappymessproject · 6 years

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88/100 - On love, passion and lust

I love making puzzles, I always had. The understanding of relationships (of all kinds) has been a big reason for me to want to study psychology. And although I have never found an author or expert explaining comprehensively how they work, I certainly put together a big puzzle over the years on how we interact with each other, made up from the work of a few of those experts together.

I won’t try to pretend I’ve figured them all out : relationships are complicated, no matter where you stand and look at them. But my puzzle has certainly changed my life completely, and changed quite a few lives in the process of making and using it in my work.

It’s easier to start off with Helen Fisher’s work. She discovered that the human brain operates under three different systems when it comes to love : sex, romantic love and attachment.

Our sex drive is about scratching an itch, and could be about anyone. Our romantic drive is more focused on one person that we deem as very special. This is the system that brings up all the obsessive thinking, the “I’d die for them”, possessiveness, loss of a sense of self, the craving of the other... Our attachment is about security and trust. It is a more quiet, fulfilling feeling of love for someone we know as they are and deeply appreciate, and vice-versa.

It is important to get here that romantic love is an addiction, because it’s generally the one that gets us into trouble, as introduced in my essay on why we fall for people that we are miserable with. It activates the same parts of the brain that lights up when we use cocaine, that’s how powerful it is.

Now, I have explained in that earlier essay how depending on our past, we can tend to have those deep craving feelings with people poorly fitting with us.

Susan Anderson, in her incredible work on abandonment has one advice about this addiction to abandonment (how we get crazy over people who let us down) : focusing on the people we like, who don’t get us in that crazy state of infatuation, and give them our presence and attention, while accepting but not following the voice in our head aching for something more exciting.

When we hit that point in therapy, the most usual question coming up is basically : “Do I really have to give up the fireworks and settle for the pale glowing candle?”

My answer to this would be a lukewarm yes and no.

Romantic love and deep attachment are quite different. For someone used to romantic attachement only (all of us who didn’t have a secure attachment to their parents), I know how exciting and deep romantic attachment feels. I know how anything in comparison feels quite dull. I’ve experienced it and heard it over and over in my office.

But let’s sit with those feelings for a while : this is also exhausting, and absolutely not sustainable by itself. If we get really crazy over someone, it is very hard to look at the relationship with perspective. But passion implies passionate consuming feelings that there is never enough of the other, we always need more.

We don’t sleep well, we don’t work with focus, we barely think about anything else. We aren’t sure if the other really like us or not, our stomach is making that roller coaster thing. We’re almost manic when it’s going well, and deeply depressed when it’s not. Can you see the theme of “too much” coming up here?

Passion on the long term is basically like eating more and more of your favourite meal everyday until we can’t even look or think about it. I can guarantee you : it won’t stay your favourite meal that long if you do.

BUT, when we pretend that passion is totally over-rated and “settle” for someone who feels easy and safe, well... Have you ever finished a very long book or movie just to finish it even if you didn’t connect to it, hoping desperately that it will get better? It’s a lot of work for very little reward... So let’s dig up more.

The Gottmans are a wonderful couple working on love and relationships. Their work on trust is a big part of my puzzle too. In their referential, attachment is by far the most important component of a longterm successful relationship.

They discovered (through their many many studies over the past decades) that any relationship that wants to last needs to be based on an authentic and deep friendship. This is THE main ingredient.

However, these successful relationships also need a “Fire and romance” department. The big fireworks are too much and exhausting to handle on the long run. But settling for someone who is basically a friend we don’t find repulsive is not the answer either. Humans are wired for balance.

What we can do is looking for someone we actually fall for, makes our heart pound and our hands sweaty in those delicious early hours of love while not taking it too far. There is a need for actual chemistry here.

But the biggest thing about them must be that they are actual friendship material, that if we didn’t feel that physical attraction, we would actually enjoy their company a lot in a non sexual way. We also need to be able to tolerate their biggest flaws, so look for them. Lasting love is not only built what we love about people.

While we do that, we should be very wary of the people really driving us to that crazy state, remembering that anyone stretching our limits so far can’t be good for us. Completely losing ourselves in a relationship in never good, for anyone. Those should be avoided for our mental health sake.

And finally : romance and trust are both something that we cultivate too, not only something we feel. We’ll talk soon about how to make our relationships more enjoyable and romantic in more details.

Feeling deeply and safely attached to someone is a wonderful human experience, one of the most important ones even. We shouldn’t diminish its importance just because it is not that exciting puppy love, especially if we never experienced it.

Secure love is not a weakly glowing candle : safe love is more like a steady bonfire. Once we experienced it, most of us find the fireworks mostly exhausting, and see it for the scam that it is : very high risks, very little rewards in the end.

If we are seriously working on our ability to love in that deep wonderful way, we have nothing to fear : it will be way more than enough to keep us interested, especially since it will definitely involve some passion.

Speak soon, Love, L.

#relationship #relationships #love #passion #lust #counselling #therapist #psychologist #100 days project #100 days of writing #the happy mess project #writer #nonfiction

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