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wincore · 4 years

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atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of.

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low.

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours.

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget.

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore.

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume.

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type.

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises. If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts.

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself.

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask.

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it.

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it.

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily.

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year.

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately.

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one.

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt.

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover.

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours.

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth.

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words.

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I��m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table.

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad.

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back.

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing.

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters.

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs.

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.”

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can.

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off.

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating.

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know.

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young.

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.”

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling.

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung.

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses.

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention.

Inviting him somewhere.

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure.

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more.

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter?

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him.

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.”

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.”

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.”

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts.

You’re disappointing.

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose.

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps.

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask.

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you.

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue.

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.”

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you.

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families.

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe.

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard.

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them.

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out.

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure.

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up.

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt.

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder.

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart.

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it.

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him.

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak.

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time.

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional.

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love.

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved.

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding.

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either.

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple.

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action.

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t.

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days.

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.”

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by.

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers.

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever.

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout.

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!”

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?”

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this.

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose.

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond.

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—”

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder.

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him.

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too.

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again.

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling.

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you.

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care.

“Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there.

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes.

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally.

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer.

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand.

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animepopheart · 4 years

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Review: Violet Evergarden the Movie

The old adage is that “people never change,” but that’s hardly true at all, is it? Most people, in fact, are constantly in change as they react to the joys and hurt, the happiness and pain, and the push and pull of life, and evolve as they travel through these experiences. But the ones who resist, who insist on standing still, can only watch as life passes them by.

That theme is ever present in Violet Evergarden, both the anime series and the films (a “side story” movie was previously released), as they trace the development of the titular young woman from a “tool of war” to her post-military life in a steampunk version of a country much like Belgium following a conflict much like WWI, and as she matures and comes to understand the nature of love by working as an auto-memory doll, a postal worker who helps translate customers’ intentions into letters typed with pitch-perfect wording. But while the focus had previously been on Violet’s growth, Violet Evergarden the Movie begins by showing how others around her are now moving forward while she stands still, including—and surprisingly—Dietfried Bougainvillea, the formerly cruel brother of Gilbert, Violet’s former commanding officer whose kindness and love inspired impassioned devotion in her, even after it’s presumed he died a violent death.

Violet, however, holds out hope that Gilbert has somehow survived. Violet Evergarden the Movie is a vast canvas, large enough to explore the final outcome of Violet’s search for Gilbert and showing how she comes to terms with what happened and who she has become. While the film could accurately be called an extended episode, it’s perhaps better described as a conclusion (for almost immediately, the film suggestions that this story will conclude Violet’s tale) where the stakes are higher and the plot structure more complicated. And although the anime has prepared viewers for deeply affecting content, that, too, is all the stronger in this final film: Violet will settle her feelings for the missing and presumed dead Gilbert one way or another, and we feel the heaviness of that almost as much as she does.

But a conclusion won’t come quickly nor easily. The twist and turns of this journey start with the unconventional structure of the film, which begins several generations later, with Violet most likely long dead and gone, as a young woman takes a latter-day interest in auto memory dolls. The action then turns back toward the roughly 1920s setting of Violet Evergarden and the story of a sick boy for whom Violet will ghostwrite as she, and to a lesser extent, Dietfried, deal with their own ghost.

Standing on the precipice of breakthrough for most of the two-hour and twenty minute runtime, and keeping that heightened sense of emotion throughout, the movie is at times exhausting. It is the culmination of a beloved heroine’s journey and a proud display both of how much she’s grown to become a person capable of giving and receiving love, and of the trauma she still carries from the war and particularly the violent loss of Gilbert. Voice actress Yui Ishikawa’s range is on full display as she effortlessly moves from Violet’s normal monotone voice to sobbing and screaming—she’s a treasure, helping to keep the film centered in authenticity when it could become pretentious and, with a screenplay that’s sometimes gorgeously crafted and at other times written without subtlety, unwieldy. But carried by her performance, unexpected character development and reveals, and breathtaking animation, Violet Evergarden the Movie becomes the crown of what was already royalty in anime, a modern classic.

As this story unfolds on the screen, it’s also worth considering the tale of the studio that produced it. Kyoto Animation had to postpone the film’s opening twice, once because of COVID-19, but before that due to tragedy, the arson that led to the deaths of 36 KyoAni employees. As Violet makes her way toward resolution on screen, it feels much like the studio’s journey as well, through violence and trauma into grief and—at least as can be expressed through the completion of this film—resolution. Kyoto Animation’s heroine, like the staff of the studio itself, will stand strong—after all, she and they have already been through hell and back.

Which evokes the question: Can you go through hell and actually make it “back”? Can you see the worst in humanity and still, as Violet efforts to do, learn what “I love you” means? The answer for a series and movie that is ultimately encouraging (though it always pierces your soul first) may be a foregone conclusion, but the answer isn’t any less meaningful—for Violet, for Kyoto Animation, and for us all.

Rating: **** (4/5)

#violet evergarden the movie #violet evergarden #funimation #kyoto animation #gilbert bougainvillea #blog

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Maladaptive Coping.”

This idea was given to me by a good friend of mine

*WARNING* This issue of Krill’s journal contains literally ALL of the things that might bother you. Every self destructive behavior I could think of is mentioned in this piece. So PLEASE do not read it if there is even the slightest chance that it may bother you. I wont list everything here, and trust you to make your own decision on weather it is a good idea for you to read this or not.

Also, a important note is that this is from an aliens perspective, and so does not contain every last nuance of these behaviors and the reasons behind them. I hope those of you who read a great day, and those who don’t read a great day as well! :)

The Journal of Xenomedical Biology

Author: Dr. Krill of the Vrul

The Human Manifestation of Self destructive Tendencies and Their Signs.

Over the past few years of studying and learning to understand humans, It has come to the attention of the medical community that humans are the most volatile species, psychologically. This is not meant as negative commentary on human issues as it might seem, but merely an observation that humans have the most widely varied pattern of psychological maladaptive responses when it comes to stress and related mental illness. Where each other species tends to have only two or three typical maladaptive responses, humans have been known to have analogous representations of all known mental abnormalities.

Now this journal is not specifically about all the ways the human brain can go wrong, but more accurately about the maladaptive response I have seen in humans over the past few years primarily demonstrating self destructive behaviors in one way or another.

You might notice an interesting pattern in my analysis today that clearly demonstrates a repetitive contradictory pattern in human self destructive tendencies, which will demonstrate just how varied and widely differing their responses can be.

First, humans have socially destructive behavior.which can come in many forms.

Withdrawal: from friends or close loved ones is a common self destructive behavior to look for in humans. This can happen on a large or small scale where the human withdraws for hours or even years. As a social species, humans find social interaction important, even if that is only remote communications with other humans. If that human begins to withdraw suddenly or even gradually over time, I might suggest being concerned about their well- being.

Now here is where the contradictions come into play, and forgive me if some of these social behaviors also overlap with the physical behaviors, with humans, they are often one in the same.

Increased socially dangerous behavior: now this may account for many things. Some humans will fall into a downward spiral where they surround themselves with other like minded humans and participate in dangerous physical activities, which I will discuss later

Increased partners: Now, while this behavior may be common for many humans, and could be argued as a physical behavior, there is cause for concern if a human suddenly increases the number of physical partners from their average. This usually accompanies reckless social behavior like not meeting the partner first before entering into a physical relationship, doing this on multiple occasions and might also be connected with the following -

Staying with an objectively horrible partner: now it is hard to identify why some humans do this, but often humans will choose a partner who is objectively horrible to them either physically or emotionally. Sometimes humans do this because they are afraid of the repercussions, are afraid of being alone, or they have been convinced that there is no other possible person out there who might love them. Humans put a lot of stock into physical relationships and many of them would rather be with someone horrible than be alone. Due to their social nature many humans put social interaction and partnership over their safety and mental health. If you see a human participating in this behavior, it is advised to get them help,even if the human does not want it. They deserve more than being treated horribly.

Now on occasion two humans in a downward spiral might come together and create a codependent relationship where they cannot function without one another. What the other human does the oher will follow and this can lead them both into a spiral of horrible physical and mental behaviors that will cause anguish in the long term. If one of them is involved with drugs, the other will follow etc.

Now some humans might even participate in self destructive behaviors that look good from an outside perspective. For instance, it is a common occurrence that humans overwork themselves to the point of burnout. Often humans throw themselves into their work to distract their minds and avoid the pain of something else, thi may include memories or having to return to an environment where they do not wish to go. These humans will work many hours and sacrifice their social lives to do more work, causing long term stress that can lead to heart attack stroke and other physical diseases related to increased stress and heightened blood pressure. Some humans may participate in this behavior as a way to prove themselves to others, that they are either competent or hard working.

On the flipside of this there are other humans who may just stop working at all. They let everything in their lives fall apart, and stop doing anything of note causing them to lose their jobs, their hobbies, their families and their friends. This one is often related to a withdrawal from other people and might include elements of physical recklessness like drug abuse.

Secondly and including a much wider range of self destructive behaviors, we see the physical manifestations of this phenomenon which vary widely and tend to come in opposing pairs..

Overheating and undereating: are two very common forms of stress response from humans. If humans have conditioned to see food as a reward for behavior or as a comforting mechanism (oten developed in childhood) they will eat in order to comfort themselves and to the point where it is adversely affecting their physical health. They may eat even if they are not hungry or if they are actively full. Some humans experience digestive issues while under stress and may even refuse to eat at all. There are other extreme cases where humans, usually in response to a perceived lack of control, will regulate their food intake to the point of starvation or other food related disorders.

This is closely related to over exercising, and also has links with a perceived lack of control in their life. These humans, often paired with restricted eating, will push themselves to their physical limit to control their own bodies as a form of having a hold on their own lives. This paired with restricted calories can cause an untold amount of damage both physically and metnally. Mental disorders linked to these behaviors are known to be the most deadly of disorders known to humans.

The consumption of Drugs and Alcohol

This is a very common and often overlooked behavior in humans. Drinking is the consumption of beverages that contain Ethanol, which when reacting in the human brain causes, extreme mental degradation related to fuzziness and euphoria. Humans find this a pleasant feeling though it causes damage to many internal structures most primarily the liver. Unfortunately drinking is seen as a socially acceptable behavior with humans and so excessive drinking is often caught too late or not called out at all. These humans may drink from the beginning to the end of the day and will build up a tolerance to alcohol amounts that would kill another human. They build up an immunity to the point where they need larger and larger doses to feel the same effects. They will often neglect their social connections including friends and family for a chance with the bottle.

This is the same with other illicit drugs, which may have even more severe effects on the person and my lead to drug induced psychosis. Both substances are highly addictive to the point where a human may commit horrible acts like murder, robbery, etc to get the drugs that they crave. This is usually in response to some sort of mental anguish they are trying to drown out but may be related to them becoming hooked on drugs they needed after surgery. On rare occasions, this behavior began in conjunction with destructive social behaviors which lead them down into a spiral.

Excessive partying is often paired with drug use and an increased amount of intimate partners. Many humans who have fallen into this spiral might refuse to admit that they are spiraling at all. Generally limited use of a substance can be acceptable for a human, but there are plenty of other chemicals that should not be consumed at all.

There are even some drugs that are known to be mild on the user but may cause emotional dependence. These drugs are not known to cause physical dependance, but the human can convince themselves that they require the drug to function emotionally during the day and will neglect their family, friends and lives in order to spend more time with their drug of choice Again you will see the withdrawal from social contacts as an extreme warning sign in humans.

Sleeping too much or not sleeping at all:A human getting enough sleep is important for their mental health but sleeping too much is proven to throw off circadian rhythms and increase chances of depression or worsening depression. Humans require an amount of sleep that is no more or no less than what they need. Many humans will claim to not be getting enough sleep because they feel tired, when in reality their oversleeping causes grogginess and reduced amount of energy though it might seem counter intuitive. On the other hand humans might refuse to sleep at all, instead occupying their time with some other activity. It is important to remember though that an inability to sleep might also be insomnia, and the human hs no choices in the matter. I find that humans, in general, are horrible at regulating a proper healthy sleep schedule.

Participation in dangerous hobbies. Now, I understand that this is common for many humans and does not indicate self destructive behavior, but I would consider noting when a human suddenly involves themselves in dangerous hobbies after not participating for a long time, especially when that human is not careful and doesnt take time to properly consider safety protocols.

Another very common one is humans causing intentional physical harm to themselves. This comes in levels of severity and I would say that most humans do this to some degree or another. Often these are connected to nervous ticks or even learned behaviors from childhood. This can include, picking scabs, biting nails, picking at the skin of the thumbs or the lips, pilling hair, and biting the inside of the cheeks. These smaller behaviors are usually minor and do not require attention, they may cause scarring but are not generally connected to extreme mental anguish.

However, these behaviors can escalate dramatically to the use of knives and razors. This behavior is EXTREMELY maladaptive and indicates severe mental anguish and trauma and must be addressed immediately. These behaviors might escalate and be linked to loss of life by the human’s own hand. I have not witnessed this personally, and I never intend to as I keep a very close eye on my humans.

#HUMANS ARE WERID #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are insane #humans are deathworlders #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia #humans are space oddities

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commentaryvorg · 3 years

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Digimon Savers Commentary Episode 5 - Break into the Digital World! Drimogemon’s Trap!

In this episode, both Tohma and Masaru separately enter the Digital World to resolve unfinished business with the Digimon they failed to stop last episode. While there, they meet up in a perilous situation and end up bonding, learning to respect each other and work together at last.

Since this episode follows on directly from the events of the last one, we start with a recap of last episode. This is a rare thing for now as most of these early episodes are self-contained events, but it’ll soon become very regular once we get into the series’ overarching plot.

There’s nothing particularly interesting about the recaps; the narration is done by a non-character narrator, and they sometimes tend to show far more clips than necessary to remind people of the relevant things that happened. I often just skip them, though since for the purposes of this commentary I’ll be obligated to watch every single part of an episode to comment on the full experience, I will probably end up moaning about how unnecessarily long they eventually shift into being.

Narrator: “To fulfil his duty, Tohma went to the Digital World to chase down Drimogemon.”

It’s interesting that the narration frames it this way, since disobeying very strict orders isn’t exactly what one would usually consider fulfilling a duty to the organisation that gave him those orders. And yet, this also is to do with Tohma’s very strong sense of duty and need to complete every job perfectly.

Anyway, as we get back into events happening in the present, please appreciate this Very Done Yoshino Face as she realises that Tohma’s gone and endangered himself by going to the Digital World alone and she’s going to get in trouble for it.

As it happens, Masaru and Agumon have got the exact same idea into their heads of disobeying orders and sneaking into the Digital World to finish things with Drimogemon. While Tohma was legitimately very good at the stealth aspect of this plan, Masaru and Agumon’s idea of stealth is, uh… not so great.

Masaru: “Successful infiltration!”

Agumon: “We’re so smooth, Aniki!”

Yep. The smoothest.

Yoshino: “What are you doing.”

Naturally, Yoshino has very much noticed them. The subs put a question mark here, but I’m using my judgement to not include it, because her voice is so deadpan and I love her.

Masaru: “Tohma did a Digital Dive? Damn it, he got away before us!”

Yoshino: “Before?”

Agumon: “Nothing, he’s just talking to himself.”

Yoshino does seem to be genuinely rather wrapped up in trying to deal with the Tohma situation and bring him back, because she doesn’t appear to pick up on the obvious implication of Masaru’s slip-up here (and the obvious only reason they’d be sneaking in in the middle of the night like this in the first place).

Yoshino: “Doing a Dive when the equipment hasn’t even been tested on humans…”

Huh, interesting. I guess this particular version of the Digital Gate equipment that DATS has is newer, then, which tracks.

Yoshino manages to detect the signal from Tohma’s Digivice, but before she can use that to bring him back, the signal is lost.

Masaru: “Really. Well isn’t that a pity.”

Masaru sounds so incredibly (not) concerned here. Though I’m sure this isn’t him genuinely not even caring if Tohma dies; he just assumes Tohma can handle himself and doesn’t see this as his problem at all.

Yoshino: “Listen to me! It’s dangerous!”

Masaru: “That doesn’t matter! I’m just going there to settle my fight!”

Yoshino: “Who cares about your fight? You’re just going to make things worse!”

I mean, it seems like Tohma cares about this fight just as much as Masaru does, actually, if in a somewhat different way. We have two stubborn idiots refusing to let this go here, not just one.

Masaru wanders into the Dive chamber, and, naturally, doesn’t have a clue how to start it up. Yoshino seems quite willing to leave and not help him with this, until he and Agumon start the appropriately Masaru approach of hitting the machine to try and get it to work. (We saw how successful that approach was last episode.)

Masaru: “You think I’ll just sit back while that guy gets all the action?”

Obviously, Masaru is not exactly thinking this through here; he just wants to somehow get to finish his fight before Tohma can do it for him, damn it!

Since Masaru and Agumon are clearly not about to be sensible and stop trying to break the equipment, Yoshino has no choice but to give in.

Lalamon: “Yoshino, are you sure about this?”

Yoshino: “Letting him have his way is better than a broken machine and Tohma stuck over there…”

It really is only because Tohma went first that Masaru is able to get his way here. A broken machine that can be fixed later would be better than Masaru throwing himself into the unknown, but a broken machine while Tohma is stuck over there is not okay at all.

Yoshino: “Listen! I’m sending you the co-ordinates where we lost Tohma. Make sure to bring him back, okay?”

Masaru: “Whatever, just do it!”

Yoshino is making the best of this she can and at least using Masaru as a way to try and ensure Tohma is safe. Masaru acts like he doesn’t care – but note he also isn’t explicitly saying he definitely won’t try to help Tohma and will leave him to fend for himself no matter what.

Yoshino: “I can’t help you when you get to the other side.”

Masaru: “Like I even need it.”

Yoshino: “Oh, really.”

Obviously. Masaru is a tough independent fighter who can definitely throw himself into a completely different world without a clue what he’s doing and manage just fine. Being a liiittle cocky there, Masaru. (Exactly as much as Tohma was when he sent himself over knowing he’d have no backup.) And I love how Yoshino isn’t buying it for a second.

Yoshino: “Return to where you first entered by 0500. That’s where I’ll bring you both back.”

Apparently they need to be in a specific location in order for the Dive equipment to work in reverse (since there isn’t a big handy machine with a chamber in it on the Digital World side). Yoshino was briefly attempting to pull Tohma back earlier before she lost his signal, so I guess that was when he was still within the range of the reverse-transport?

Masaru: “Bah, it’s like having a curfew.”

Haha. Something Masaru is probably quite used to, since he is only fourteen and his mother must worry about what he gets up to a lot. He did mention having to sneak out of the house to come to DATS last episode, which I surmised was not because DATS was a secret to Sayuri but rather just because it was late.

Masaru looks at his Digivice, which has a clock feature telling us it’s 0:33 right now. Yoshino apparently expects him to navigate a completely unfamiliar world, find Tohma (and also defeat the Drimogemon because she knows he’s going to want to do that even if she’d rather he didn’t bother), and get back to where he arrived, within four and a half hours. That seems a little bit tight – why couldn’t she just let him have as long as he needs and just wait to pull him and Tohma back whenever they appear back in range?

The reason, I imagine, is that she’s really hoping she can get this all wrapped up before the morning shift at DATS starts and Satsuma finds out what’s been going on here. I don’t blame her.

Agumon: “Aniki, I’m kinda nervous…”

Masaru: “Don’t get scared now, idiot.”

I like how Masaru is admonishing Agumon for getting scared not as if he’s being a coward or anything like that, but just as if he’s being an idiot. Obviously if they let themselves get scared and hesitate, that might get in the way of them winning their fight! It’s like Masaru is thinking of “getting scared” less in terms of the initial emotion that you can’t help feeling, but in terms of whether you choose to let it control you, or you just push it aside and press on anyway. Anyone who wouldn’t want to do the latter is an idiot, right?

Agumon: “You sure this is okay?”

Masaru: “You think I know?”

As the countdown to transfer gets close to zero and the energy starts swirling around them, I love the tiny little hint that Masaru is actually just as nervous about this as Agumon is – he has no idea if this is gonna be okay or not either! – and is just very stubbornly refusing to show it.

As we briefly see here, moving from one world to another involves travelling through a trippy computery in-between void. Future trips to and from the Digital World in the series will (usually, with one notable exception) skip over this part, but we can assume that it’s a thing that happens every time.

The opening also contains a shot of the characters going through this void between worlds. Yoshino doesn’t head to the Digital World herself in this episode, of course, but she will in time.

Masaru: “This is the Digital World? Cool… The sky and the ground are upside-down!”

I like how Masaru is totally willing to buy that the Digital World really is this weird.

Agumon: “Aniki… You’re the one who’s upside-down.”

Masaru: “I knew that.”

…Rather than the much more likely option that he’s just a huge ridiculous dork.

(The subs say “I knew that” like Masaru’s trying to save face, but the word he says in Japanese could also translate as “Oh, I see,” as if he isn’t even trying to hide how he genuinely thought the Digital World was upside-down for a second. That doofus.)

Agumon: “It’s my first time seeing it, too.”

Masaru: “But you’re a Digimon, aren’t you?”

Agumon: “Yeah, but I’ve been in DATS all my life.”

Yep, just like he said in the first episode about not remembering anything but being in DATS. Seems like, unlike the rampaging Digimon they deal with, Agumon came to the human world while he was not exactly “alive”, as such.

They wander through the Digital World for a while, marvelling at some of its weirdness. Circuit board patterns in the sky! Pixelated rivers! All sorts of Digimon walking and bouncing and flying around!

Masaru: “We’re looking for that mole thing. If we keep walking, we should come across a clue or something.”

Man, Masaru, you sure thought this through and planned things out real good.

Agumon: “What about Tohma?”

[cut to the DATS control room]

Yoshino: “‘Leave him, he’ll figure something out on his own.’ …If he said that, what’ll we do?”

Lalamon: “You’re overthinking it.”

[cut back to the Digital World]

Masaru: “Leave him, he’ll figure something out on his own.”

Oh dear. Yoshino has already got Masaru pretty figured out and knew full well he wasn’t likely to take looking for Tohma that seriously. Though, to be fair, it is pretty reasonable to assume that Tohma can figure something out on his own. Masaru wouldn’t admit this just yet, but this is him having faith in Tohma’s capabilities! If Masaru had reason to believe that Tohma was definitely in life-threatening danger he couldn’t get out of by himself, I’m sure he wouldn’t be so nonchalant about this.

As Masaru and Agumon explore more Digital World weirdness – more stuff in the sky! Digital plants! A crystalline colosseum-looking thing that’s actually a Chekhov’s Gun for this episode! – a particular piece of BGM is playing that evokes a sense of grand exploration and discovery, as you’d expect for this moment. This piece happens to be called Savers’ “Main Theme”, which was a little surprising to me when I saw its name on the soundtrack. You’d expect this series’ main theme to be something more actiony, in fitting with all the focus on fighting and the way Masaru is. But maybe a more discovery-like piece is actually quite appropriate for what the overall themes of this story are.

Agumon: “But it feels kinda nostalgic.”

An interesting comment from Agumon here. Though he doesn’t consciously remember anything about the Digital World because he was born in DATS, it seems like he has a subconscious sense of familiarity with it. As we’ve seen every time DATS defeats a Digimon, they don’t die and are simply turned into eggs and “reborn” – so maybe this is a sign of Agumon’s previous life, in which he did live in the Digital World, still vaguely there with him even though the conscious memories of it are lost.

As fun as showing off Digital World weirdness is, we soon get to the point as Drimogemon happens to pop out of a cliff face nearby. Which, yes, is kind of arbitrarily convenient. But I will take this any day over them wandering aimlessly having unnecessary filler adventures for episodes on end before getting to the actual point that the story is here for.

It also may make some reasonable amount of sense, actually. Masaru was sent to where Tohma was last seen, and it’s likely that Tohma deliberately sent himself somewhere near where he could detect Drimogemon. Tohma sending himself over here with absolutely no idea where to find a single Digimon among an entire world would have been incredibly stupid, after all, and I don’t think he could have justified that to himself even with his determination to fix his mistake. Given that, it’s not so unreasonable that Masaru would have run into Drimogemon at some point, since it was going to be somewhere near to where he arrived.

Also, while the other Digimon they’ve seen were just kind of wandering around naturally, the Drimogemon straight up crashed out of a cliffside. It’s still rampaging, exactly as they were worried about last episode, and therefore it’s even more likely that Masaru would have noticed it sooner or later with all the commotion it’s making.

Drimogemon tunnels into the ground, so naturally Masaru heads straight after it – and back at DATS, Yoshino loses his Digivice signal just like she lost Tohma’s. So apparently these signals can be picked up through the boundary between worlds, but not if someone is in another world and also underground. Uhhh, okay then.

This also means that presumably the reason she lost Tohma’s signal is because he went underground while trying to track Drimogemon, not because he was necessarily in any severe danger.

Lalamon: “This may be the worst…”

I’m amused by Lalamon borrowing Yoshino’s catchphrase, but hedging her bets on it a little bit. Maybe it’s not actually the worst! Maybe.

Satsuma: “What are you doing?”

Yoshino: “Searching for an idiot! Geez, why me?”

Yoshino is so focused on frustratedly searching for Masaru’s signal that she doesn’t even register that Satsuma and Kudamon have shown up at first, which is probably the exact thing she was really hoping wasn’t going to happen until Masaru and Tohma were back. Nope, turns out this definitely is the worst.

Back in the Digital World, Masaru’s tried-and-true strategy of tracking Drimogemon down by simply following it through its own tunnel has led them into a huge underground cavern.

Masaru: “Doesn’t matter where this is! Let’s go, Agumon!”

As before, Masaru doesn’t care about the location so long as he gets to fight! Or, perhaps, he’s trying to tell himself the location doesn’t matter, because on some level he’s realising that Drimogemon is very much in its element and has the advantage here. Which it does, as Masaru and Agumon quickly learn they’re not very good at Whack-a-giant-Digimole.

Bear in mind that Drimogemon is not saying a word, just like it hasn’t since it grew bigger last episode. It’s still in that mindless rampaging state, and so it seems to have no issue with straight-up collapsing the ground underneath Masaru and Agumon. That would be going a bit far if this were a Digimon that was still properly in control of itself.

Agumon: “Aniki!”

Masaru: “Idiot, don’t get scared over something like this!”

Masaru is still trying to set an example for his follower and insist that there’s no point in getting scared, even though being in an underground cave-in is in fact a pretty legitimate reason to be scared right now.

They both fall into a pretty deep-looking chasm but manage to somehow land reasonably unhurt, because shounen anime. Agumon’s awkward legs-in-the-air pose he landed in is pretty cute.

It turns out that Tohma and Gaomon are down here too. Seems like Drimogemon took the same approach when it was faced with them.

Masaru: “What’s this? Does that mean the same thing happened to you?” [he and Agumon burst out laughing] “I see, you’re just like us!”

I really like Masaru’s reaction here. He’s not trying to be mean-spirited; if you listen to the tone of his laughter, there’s nothing malicious or mocking about it. It’s just such a huge relief for him to finally be seeing proof that Tohma’s human. He can fail sometimes and mess up in ways as equally ridiculous and undignified as Masaru. He’s not actually some kind of infuriatingly perfect walking supercomputer who can never do wrong like Masaru’s kind of been resentfully seeing him as. He’s just a person.

The relief of that realisation comes out as laughter not because Masaru’s really trying to mock Tohma for failing, but just because of the elation of finally being able to see Tohma as an equal. “You’re just like us”, indeed.

Tohma’s response is also great. He’s not getting frustrated and snapping back at Masaru like he often would in the previous episode, because he must be able to tell that Masaru isn’t actually trying to insult him here. He’s just embarrassed to be unable to deny the fact that he really is more of a fallible human person than he would have ideally liked Masaru to see him as.

Gaomon, meanwhile, the good dog that he is, has been carefully excavating rocks and found a potential way out. As Tohma heads towards it, he stumbles, because his leg was injured from the fall.

Masaru: “Hey, you’re hurt!”

Tohma: [grimacing] “This barely counts as an injury.”

Tohma clearly doesn’t want to give Masaru even more reason to think he’s human and fallible and might need help or something. But Masaru doesn’t care about Tohma’s stubbornness and immediately moves to put himself under Tohma’s arm to support him.

Masaru: “Here.”

Tohma: “Stop that. I don’t need you to help—”

Masaru: “When you’re a man… When you’re a man, there are some things you just have to *do* despite yourself.”

I love Masaru so much. This is the first time we’re getting to see that his manliness thing is about a whole lot more than just fighting. It’s about honour, and integrity, and simply being a good person. The “despite yourself” is because he still doesn’t really like Tohma just yet and there’s a part of him that stubbornly wants to continue to be irritable and contrary towards him for the hell of it – but since Tohma’s injured and needs help, Masaru’s principles about doing the right thing in this kind of situation are more important to him than anything, so he can put that petty stubbornness aside. And these principles of Masaru’s come from exactly the same place as the reason he always gives it his all in fights!

(All those parts earlier in the episode where I confidently asserted that there’s no way Masaru actually wouldn’t have cared if Tohma had got himself killed, and that if he’d believed Tohma was in genuine danger then he wouldn’t have just left him to his own devices? Yeah, this is why. Masaru is Good.)

Masaru’s manly speech was mostly about himself, but it also works as advice to Tohma in this situation. He could continue to try and be stubborn and prideful and insist he doesn’t need help from anyone, but when there’s someone right here offering to help him – someone who was until recently at his throat, no less – what kind of a dick move would it be to reject that offer? Accepting Masaru’s help is the right thing for Tohma to do as well, despite his own pride. And he does.

Agumon: “You’re making me cry, Aniki!”

Agumon also approves of his aniki’s manly principles, like a good follower should. Aniki is teaching him so much.

Masaru: “Let’s get outta here first. Then we can think about other things.”

Implicit in Masaru’s statement here is “then we can get back to arguing with each other if we want” – but I like how he isn’t even mentioning that here, because right now it isn’t about that. Their lives are in danger, they need to help each other and work together to get out, and so nothing else matters for the time being.

This turns into a brief cute montage of the four of them helping each other make their way through the tunnels, which turn out to be quite the underground labyrinth. A lot of time implicitly passes here, and while I doubt Masaru and Tohma are saying very much to each other, this is no doubt making them bond a bit. They’re finally spending some time seeing each other as a person and an equal, rather than as some kind of infuriating representation of everything opposite to their own approach that brings out all their insecurities.

Meanwhile at DATS, Yoshino is indeed getting fiercely chewed out by Satsuma.

Yoshino: “But that was all I could do…”

It really was, or Masaru would have broken the equipment and left Tohma stranded there! She did the absolute best thing she could under the circumstances! Alas, Yoshino doesn’t seem to quite have it in her to stand up for herself and more clearly express this.

Kudamon: “Instead of berating them, we should find out where they are quickly!”

At least Kudamon has the right idea. And I imagine Satsuma understands this, too – he’s probably only so furious at Yoshino because he’s worried about Tohma and Masaru. He likely would have chewed them out if he could, since this is absolutely far more their fault than Yoshino’s. But they aren’t available for him to yell at, so poor Yoshino got the brunt of it instead.

Masaru: “Hey, why didn’t you evolve Gaomon and break out?”

Back in the Digital World, Masaru asking this suggests he’s been thinking himself about, naturally, the most straightforward way to get out of here – he’d just evolve Agumon to GeoGreymon and smash their way out, if only he could!

But it says a lot that Masaru is then also applying his mindset to Tohma and assuming that he’s probably thought of the same thing, hence asking why he hasn’t done so, since Tohma can evolve his partner more easily. Masaru’s starting to empathise with Tohma and see him as a person!

(I guess technically Masaru might be able to get his Digisoul by turning around and punching Gaomon in the face? But it’s entirely possible that it wouldn’t work against a Digimon that’s not actively trying to fight him. Or, even if it did, that’d be a dick move to suddenly punch someone who’s not ready to fight and defend themselves, so I doubt Masaru would want to do that.)

Tohma demonstrates why he didn’t just evolve Gaomon by asking Gaomon to punch the wall, showing how dangerously unstable these tunnels are. Which is, uh, something he really could have just explained with words rather than taking a risk like that. But then again, Masaru is definitely someone who learns things better through actions rather than words, so maybe this is Tohma beginning to appreciate that!

They reach another fork in the tunnel and disagree on which path they should take. Tohma explains that the path he’s choosing isn’t random; he’s been dropping coins on the ground as they’ve been moving, and the path Masaru picked has a coin in it, indicating that they’ve been that way before.

(This is a 100 yen coin, by the way, which is roughly equal to one US dollar, and Tohma’s apparently been dropping loads of them. Could he not have used, I dunno, just 1 yen coins? Someone has more money than he knows what to do with.)

Masaru: “Hey, you’re pretty smart!”

I like how Masaru remarks on this like it’s the first time he’s noticing this, as if he wasn’t already infuriatingly aware that Tohma’s a straight-up genius. This is Tohma displaying his smarts in a low-key, down-to-earth way that a regular person like Masaru can understand and appreciate is a useful way to go about things, rather than a way that makes him just come across as incomprehensibly, unreachably perfect.

Tohma: “As I said, I’m not like you.”

Tohma’s still taking a little longer to warm up to Masaru and acknowledge that they might actually be similar to each other in a lot of ways, since he insists on stressing this point. Come on, Tohma! Masaru’s already started to admit that maybe you’re more like him than he would have liked you to be a day ago; you should start closing that gap, too!

Masaru makes a face in response to this comment. Apparently he’s agreeing with my sentiment about Tohma being a little too unnecessarily uptight here.

Agumon: “Aniki… When are we gonna get outta here?!”

Masaru: “Don’t worry! Keep up your spirits and we’ll use it to work this out somehow!”

Tohma: “Spirit has nothing to do with it, but we *are* heading up.”

I love the contrast between Masaru’s baseless emotion-driven optimism, and Tohma preferring to base his optimism in actual facts. Both are good ways to be optimistic!

Masaru: “You’re really unbearable.”

Tohma: “You too.”

They say this, but they both sound a lot less vitriolic about it than they did in the previous episodes. They still have huge differences in their approach to things that inherently frustrate each other, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be beginning to respect each other anyway!

Masaru and Tohma reach an opening into a wider cavern, but they’re too high up for it to be safe to drop down into it. They’re about to turn back when Drimogemon shows up in the lower cavern.

Masaru: “He’s out of luck to meet us here! Let’s go, Agumon!”

Yes, out of luck, this is definitely the least advantageous possible position that Drimogemon could be meeting them in. Masaru is still being Masaru and paying no heed to the environment; he sees Drimogemon as being out of luck to meet him at all, because hey, this means they don’t have to go searching for it later!

Tohma points out the incredible disadvantage they’re at, including reminding Masaru that it’s not safe for their partners to evolve in here, and insists they should keep heading for the surface and leave it be for now. But Masaru is having none of it.

Masaru: “Not gonna!”

I absolutely adore his ridiculous grumpy walk towards Tohma. It’s so perfect for getting across his stubborn attitude here. No. Masaru is gonna fight the thing and no amount of logic or safety is gonna stop him.

Masaru: “I’m not gonna run or hide! A man takes his fights head-on!”

Also, running away at a time like this isn’t what a man does, according to him, and it’s already become pretty clear just how important sticking to that principle is to Masaru.

So he pulls Tohma with him to the edge of the tunnel and straight-up leaps down onto Drimogemon’s back, with Agumon and Gaomon frantically jumping after them.

(Tohma grimaces in pain as he lands on its back. Yeah, considering his leg injury, ouch.)

Masaru: “Yo.”

Masaru climbs forward onto Drimogemon’s head and has this delightfully audacious moment.

Then, realising they’re there, Drimogemon goes mad trying to shake them off. When they keep clinging on, it rushes towards the nearest wall trying to tunnel away. Masaru tugs on its fur like reins to redirect it to tunnel where he wants it to – in a more upwards direction, since they soon emerge out on the surface.

(It’s a little questionable how Masaru and co. aren’t just utterly crushed between Drimogemon’s back and the earth as it digs its tunnel, but then again it’s questionable how Drimogemon’s drill even manages to drill out a tunnel big enough for its entire body through what seems like not earth but solid rock in the first place. Shush, it’s anime physics; it’s fine.)

Tohma: (He… Did he plan all of this from the start? But wait…)

And here’s Tohma applying his mindset to Masaru, imagining that Masaru might have planned this! He’s, uh… not precisely correct on that one, but it says a lot that he’s even considering it at all.

Rather than jump off its back and fight it here, Masaru keeps pulling on Drimogemon’s fur to direct its panicked running.

Masaru: “Yahoo! This is just like a rodeo!”

(And he’s having a whale of a time while doing it, too, the huge dork.)

Tohma: “Where are you taking us?”

Masaru: “You’re the one who said to think of a good battleground!”

Look at Masaru actually thinking about this and applying a decent amount of strategy! He’s really not that bad at doing so when someone prompts him to actually consider it; he’s just usually so raring to jump straight in that it doesn’t occur to him to do so.

The “good battleground” in question is the crystalline colosseum Masaru noticed earlier – just the kind of place where Drimogemon won’t be able to dig. Inside the crystal arena, Masaru gives it a nice big punch before leaping off its back, and its evolution time.

…Except, it turns out, it’s also about to be evolution time for Drimogemon. For some reason. It starts twitching and shaking like it’s having some kind of adverse reaction to something, but I cannot come up with any possible reason why it would be doing so. The robbers who may or may not have been (read: they definitely were) responsible for it growing bigger and rampaging in the first place back in the human world are long gone and out of the picture. This does not make any sense to me. Maybe this is just something that happens if a Digimon that’s grown bigger but not evolved is left to rampage unchecked for long enough? I don’t think we see any other instances in the series that would contradict this, but this is definitely me reaching here.

Meanwhile at DATS, Miki and Megumi have also been called in to help search for the two reckless idiots, and they finally manage to relocate their signals – probably because they’re above ground again now. But they also detect Drimogemon evolving, which, for some reason, activates DATS’s alarm. You know, the one that’s supposed to be for Digimon appearing in the human world, because it’s hardly like a Digimon evolving back in the Digital World is usually anything they need to worry about.

Drimogemon finishes evolving, and it’s now… a Digmon. (Dig, without the second “I”; yes, this is very easy to awkwardly misread as just Digimon, I know.) And, uh, Digimon evolution level facts: this shouldn’t be a stronger Digimon.

If Drimogemon, an Adult-level like Gaogamon and GeoGreymon, had evolved upwards like you’d expect into the next proper evolution level, it’d have reached Perfect level. And, as I’ve mentioned with regards to evolution levels, they are each ridiculously exponentially stronger than the last, to the point that even GeoGreymon and Gaogamon working together would not have stood a chance against even a single Perfect-level.

So, well, obviously that couldn’t actually happen here, because Masaru and Tohma need to win this fight. Instead, Drimogemon just evolved sideways into a bonus gimmicky evolution level called Armour level, which, from its appearances in other series, seems to be roughly just as strong as Adult. This is not actually any significantly more of a threat at all.

Tohma: “It’s Digmon. He’s far more powerful and has a higher mobility than Drimogemon.”

I guess we’re meant to assume that Armour levels work somewhat differently in this Digimon universe and are in fact just a little bit stronger than Adult, while not nearly as much so as Perfect? Sure, I guess; the general mechanics of Digimon don’t always work exactly the same in different universes.

(Still, Tohma conspicuously does not mention Digmon’s evolution level and explain the fact that it just evolved more sideways than upwards, because the writers don’t want you to notice how awkward this is.)

This whole thing, nonsensical DATS alarm and all, is a hilariously transparent attempt by the writers to inject more artificial tension into this situation, and, I dunno, to maybe showcase a different Monster of the Week since we’ve been dealing with Drimogemon for two episodes now. It’s very silly. Drimogemon should have just stayed as a Drimogemon and everything would have been fine.

At least this does mean, thanks to Digmon’s apparent higher defences and mobility, we get GeoGreymon not winning the fight in a single attack. (Though my brain looks at Digmon and sees something that’s clearly a Bug/Steel-type and is very bothered by how an obviously Fire-type attack like Mega Flame doesn’t harm it at all. Shush, I was raised on Pokémon; I can’t help but see things this way.) It puts up a decent fight for a while, dodging or withstanding their attacks and hitting back, which at least is a refreshing change from the one-attack victories we’ve seen before – because there’s a narrative point to be made in this fight that wouldn’t work if they won straight away.

…I still think this could have been made to work just fine with Drimogemon turning out to be tougher and have more mobility above ground than they’d been expecting, though. It shouldn’t have needed to evolve sideways for this fight to be a challenge.

So anyway, after a little bit of them not getting anywhere in defeating it, Tohma reminds Masaru of the part last episode where GeoGreymon and Gaogamon’s attacks collided from opposing directions and cancelled each other out.

Tohma: “But what if the opposite happened?”

Masaru: “What’d happen?”

Tohma: “Let’s find out!”

Look at Tohma getting into the Masaru spirit of things! He has an idea, but unlike his usual carefully-calculated strategies, he doesn’t know exactly how this one’s going to play out. And yet he’s going for it anyway!

Tohma: “Isn’t that your style?”

Masaru: “Now you’re getting it!”

Not only that, but Tohma knows this is him pulling something Masaru would pull, and he’s okay with it! And of course Masaru enthusiastically approves.

Believer kicks in here, by the way, not earlier when they were evolving. We’re still hearing it every episode for now, but even then, the music directors know better than to just blindly throw it in the moment an evolution animation happens, regardless of context. They’re deliberately saving it for the actually triumphant moments, like all “evolution” songs should be.

Masaru: “The timing has to be perfect.”

Meanwhile, Masaru is taking a leaf out of Tohma’s book and caring about little strategic details like timing! Look at them both go.

On their command, GeoGreymon and Gaogamon fire their Mega Flame and Spiral Blow attacks together in the same direction at the same time, which turns them into a huge flaming tornado that engulfs Digmon and overwhelms it.

Tohma: “The opposing attacks didn’t clash… they fused! Their combined powers enhanced each other and became amplified to more than before!”

Which, though I don’t know if Tohma himself quite realises this or not, is also a very fitting metaphor for his and Masaru’s methods, just like what happened last episode. If they oppose each other, all they do is get in each other’s way and achieve nothing at all, but if they work together, they can each complement the other’s skills to become something greater than either of them could be on his own!

Masaru: “Who cares about that? All that matters now is… he dies!”

Meanwhile, of course Masaru doesn’t care about figuring out the sciencey logistics of how this is working (and he certainly cares even less about possibly making some kind of metaphor). He just knows that it’s awesome and it means they win.

(The “he dies!” is, uh, rather dark, especially considering it’s only being turned into an egg, but I’m pretty sure that’s a subs thing and that Masaru doesn’t actually directly reference death here. The subbers were probably just going for something that sounds a bit snappier than “he’s defeated”, which I imagine is closer to what Masaru actually literally said.)

As Masaru starts celebrating their win like the adorable excited dork he is, GeoGreymon and Gaogamon give a small smile to each other, and it’s cute.

Tohma, meanwhile, isn’t quite the type to join in with Masaru’s loud celebrations, but he has a smile to himself and is obviously happy about this outcome as well, in his much more subdued way.

We cut to sun…set? Huh, now that I think about it, I guess this part of the Digital World runs on a different timezone to Japan in the human world, because it was daytime the whole time over here while it was night in Japan. Maybe this world even has an entirely different day length.

Masaru, Tohma and their devolved partners are heading back to the recall point – with Masaru still supporting Tohma’s walking, because he is still good and Tohma probably still needs it.

Tohma: “When you jumped down towards Drimogemon… Did you plan right from the start to use him so we could get to the surface?”

Tohma only asks this now even though they’ve been implicitly walking back from the fight for a while. It seems he tried to tell himself that it probably was all planned, but the thought kept nagging at him – was it really, though? This is Masaru, after all – that he eventually just had to ask and confirm it.

Masaru: “Nah, that was just spirit! But the result was great, wasn’t it?!”

Aaaand of course it wasn’t all planned from the start. Of course not. But, hey, there was still deliberate intent and strategy involved as it was happening. It seems Masaru can be pretty good at the whole seat-of-your-pants, make-it-up-as-you-go type of strategising when he needs to be!

Tohma: (I hate to admit it, but I can’t analyse his ability with my intellect.)

And that’s okay, Tohma! This is Tohma acknowledging that Masaru’s approach is nothing like his, but that it still works just as well and is just as valid a way of going about things. He’s opening his mind to more than just his very rigid way of thinking!

Tohma stops in their walking and… offers Masaru a fist-bump. I really like how he’s the one to offer here, after Masaru was the first to offer support to Tohma earlier and Tohma was still being kind of hesitant about fully accepting Masaru as being similar to him. He’s making up for that now and closing the rest of the gap himself, just like he began to do in the battle when he suggested a Masaru-like risky strategy!

Masaru accepts it without question, of course. He probably already felt like they’d grown enough of an unspoken bond from their experiences that it didn’t need to be said, otherwise I imagine he’d have already made this gesture himself sooner. But I like that it didn’t occur to him, so that we could see Tohma be the one to choose to initiate this.

They are friends now and it is good!

Agumon: “Aniki’s got himself another follower!”

That’s, uh, not quite what this is, Agumon. But it’s adorable that Agumon jumps to seeing things that way, because to him his aniki is just The Coolest and he can’t imagine anyone else ever being his equal. So if Aniki’s gained the respect of someone new, that must mean he’s also become an aniki to them, right?

Gaomon: “Master is no follower!”

Meanwhile, maybe Gaomon feels pretty similarly about his master, too. He is, after all, a very good dog.

Safely back at DATS, Masaru and Tohma and their partners have the grace to look appropriately sheepish about this whole thing as Satsuma yells at them. Yoshino is also there and also looks like she’s getting yelled at along with them, which seems unfair to me – she already bore her share of the blame earlier, and it was far less her fault than theirs!

Kudamon: “You were able to make it back this time, but did you think about what would’ve happen if you’d failed? You still know nothing of the Digital World!”

It’s pretty interesting that Kudamon says this to them, considering that he knows far more about the Digital World than anyone else in this room and yet hasn’t ever thought to inform his agents about it in case something like this ever happened.

Satsuma drops his anger and turns his back to them before finally complimenting them on managing to return. Despite his sternness, he does care about his subordinates! I really do think he was only so angry because he was worried about them never making it back. Going there in the first place was monumentally reckless on both their parts, but Masaru and Tohma did at least handle things quite impressively while they were there, and that deserves to be acknowledged.

(Speaking of worried, I imagine Masaru is very much not planning on telling his mother about how he nearly went and got himself stranded in another world, which is definitely for the best. Poor Sayuri would be terrified just thinking about how close that came to happening.)

Overall thoughts

When I first watched Savers, I think there was a part of me that expected the Masaru-Tohma rivalry to drag on unnecessarily long, like for ten episodes or more, and probably become kind of stale and tiresome before it finally got resolved. But no! Savers doesn’t waste any time with this mini-arc. We’ve seen Masaru’s insecurities brought out by Tohma; we’ve seen Tohma’s insecurities brought out by Masaru; now it’s time to shove them into a situation where they can learn to get along, so that the story can move on with them actually working together.

And, really, it was never going to take Masaru and Tohma that long to reach this point. They always had so much in common along with their differences, and they’re both fundamentally decent people despite their tendency to be very stubbornly insistent about their own way of doing things. All it took was putting them in a situation where they can come to see the other as a person and not have their own issues brought out by the other’s very presence, and each one was always going to see that there’s plenty about the other that he can respect.

So I like this episode a lot, because I think it pulls this off really well. There’s a lot more to it than just the basic premise of “put them in danger so they’re forced to work together” – there’s all sorts of little moments I’ve talked about here that show each of them is slowly beginning to see the other as human and come to understand and respect his different way of thinking. The writers really thought about this, and about these characters. Savers’ character writing is great.

And yeah, the Drimogemon evolving into Digmon is pretty silly, but that’s only a small thing. The conclusion of the metaphor started last episode with GeoGreymon and Gaogamon’s attacks is a narratively appropriate way to end the fight, at least.

---

[Dub comparison]

#digimon #digimon savers #masaru daimon #tohma h norstein

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ronnytherandom · 4 years

Text

I forgot to watch content all week so i wrote about games ive been playing

9/2/2021: The Truman Show

You should fear your fears but embrace them and use them to guide you into the unknown, to explore and experience what life has to offer. Fear stands between you and the fullest experience of life so you must pass through it to better yourself. Heed not the walls built about you and the chains made to hold you. Though the architects insist it will preserve your life, containment is anathema to life. Do not take in faith the benevolence of powers that be; instead trust those who would support and liberate you, guide you through fear and into life.

As best I can lay it out, I think this is the philosophy of the Truman show but there is so much more to read into it also. There is critique of systems of commodification and celebrity (i.e. capitalism) reducing human beings to a consumable good as well as encouragement to find and pursue your goals despite adversity and even sensibility which is also tied to the illusion of economic responsibility. You can’t put a camera inside a human head, you can never “know” them without being an active and intrinsic part of their life, but also there is need for reciprocation. If one half exists with ulterior motive then the entire relationship is rotten; sincere humanity is what creates real connections. Without such your world is fake. A world built around one person is a world where no one can truly live. All these actors have given up basically their entire lives for the sake of watching Truman have his life built around him by outside forces, have allowed themselves to be commodified and dehumanised for the good of one man, Christoph. The man at the top has delusions of grandeur and thinks only of his own bottom line, he cares not for his subjects but simply wants them to do as he tells them because it benefits him to commodify their lives and interactions. Even then he cannot stand to lose control and in seeking to demonstrate Truman’s “realness” he structures his life so thoroughly that eventually there’s no reality left, only a script and adverts. But the people watching still empathise with Truman because everyone in the working class understands what it is to be trapped because real life is our own Truman show and one day we must all pass through fear, step out of the dome and create a real life for ourselves outside of the system of commodification which consumes everyone’s life and removes all realness and sincerity and emotional catharsis from it.

I unreservedly love this film.

14/2/2021: Assorted Game Reviews

Horizon Zero Dawn (Unfinished due to technical issues, 45 hours inc. parts of Frozen Wilds): This game is really cool and really fun. I think it is defined by its incredible setting which somehow creates a fresh feeling post-apocalyptic environment. Said environment creates intriguing alt-future lore and some very interesting environments to explore. I love the machine designs (especially tallnecks!) and was very sad to hear one of their contributing artists passed away recently but I’m glad their work lives on in this visually stunning game. I’m a sucker for Ubisoft-style open world games simply because it tickles a certain kind of itch and somehow this non-Ubisoft game has outdone Ubisoft on their own formula, which is hilarious, but also good for me as running around this world exploring and clearing map markers is engaging fun. Not least because of the combat. I have a minor criticism here that the combat feels slightly awkward on mouse and keyboard, the arrows never seem to go where I’m aiming, but aside from that the experience of fighting is a grand one. Enemies never lose their threat and I love the weak spot system the game employs which makes every tool useful in niche circumstance and rewards curiosity. It specifically manages this in a way that I feel the Witcher series could learn from if it ever returns; by making head on assault less viable and encouraging tactical hunting. I do feel this system makes hunting robots so fun that by contrast hunting humans becomes a chore however, though I noted this improves in the dlc with the addition of humans with elemental weaknesses limited in number as they are. I cannot speak for the story in entirety but what I encountered was pretty good, though I feel as if it was only just really getting going at the point where I could not continue. I find Aloy to be a compelling and well portrayed protagonist and though I can guess about her origin and the ultimate end of the alt-future apocalypse I still want to see how it plays out on screen, so will return to this as soon as I’ve fixed it.

Rimworld (122 hours. Familiar with but do not own Royalty Expansion):

Rimworld is one of those super special games that I don’t think I have a single problem with. Fair warning it can be brutal and is heavily dependent on RNG but this allows it to create truly unique and interesting scenarios on a constant basis. In the wider perspective it could be described as formulaic, with regular cycles of managing the settlement between raids and random events, but the devils in the details. Colonist traits, health and skills dictate how you play and sometimes you’ll be forced to adapt as some colonists simply refuse to perform some tasks. The depth of health particularly amuses me, in that each little part of someone’s body is modelled in a way. If you’re in a firefight you may take a single bullet which grazes your finger and you’re fine. Alternately it could pierce your human leather cowboy hat, your skull and kill you instantly and the game will tell you exactly what happened. The risk/reward element is addictive enough, and that’s without accounting for just how cool it is to see your colony slowly expand. Establishing more and more options for crafting is fun and shows off the full range of different items in the game which is fucking extensive. Between clothing, weapons, armour, sculpture and drugs to name only a few you have the opportunity to create many varied production lines either for your colonists or to trade for money and there is a lot of fun to be had here as well as it is quite satisfying to see psychoid you have grown personally become the cocaine your colonists snort to help them stay awake on limited sleep. From an archaeologist’s perspective it is especially cool to look back over your base and see the hints of how and why structures were built and remember the history of your limitations and development through structure. I think the lore of the universe is really cool too, a very 40k-esque kind of place except with far less order, somehow. But the universe does an excellent job of feeling alive and moving constantly on both a planetary and interstellar level. You can fully believe that while you build wooden shacks to shield yourself from terrifyingly low temperatures there are simultaneously rich pieces of shit living it up on the glitterworld that’s one system over. The music does an excellent job of creating the wild west frontier atmosphere the game cultivates to great effect. Ultimately, for just being a grid with a series of different numbers attached, this game does a fantastic job of creating a compelling, brutal and very real colony management experience. I dont think I can properly put into words the grandness and scope of this one. I didnt even mention the modding scene, which is expansive and tailors to basically any need you could have. The Rim is a terrifying place but theres so much fun to be had.

Factorio (86 hours, mostly 1.1): Having completed a game of Factorio I can tell you reliably that this is one of the best games ever made, thoroughly addictive and fun. If you like numbers, logistics, TRAINS, its gonna be your thing. Not to mention its probably the only documented case of a game with no bugs (so far as official forums are concerned). Strictly speaking this games combat is not the most engrossing thing but good lord do you feel it when you acquire a flamethrower. The way each aspect of the game (production, research, logistics, combat, upgrades for everything therein) feeds into the next is a really well constructed balancing act such that you must experience the full game in order to complete it and I always appreciate this kind of design. I think its one of the best tenets of factory game design especially as its something present in Satisfactory too. Beyond all of this generalised good the game is also excellent in its intricacies, the architecture necessary to build a maximum efficiency base, the level of planning and organisation that can be employed is mind-blowing. Not to mention the mod community, factorion is already an extensive experience and some mad bastards have seen fit to complicate it further, hats off to them. This really is a great moment in gaming.

Destiny 2 (198 hours, all expansions, played some post Forsaken release, mostly Season of Arrivals onwards, spent roughly £20 on microtransactions):

This is a very interesting and enjoyable experience, but I must say it can be a bit controversial at times. What its does particularly well is moment to moment gameplay and design in all aspects. The game is stunning; between environments, cosmetics, shaders ships and ghosts there’s a vast range of incredible things to see, all rooted in the “pseudo-magi-science” aesthetic it’s got going on. The class design is excellent and you really do feel like you embody this rampaging madman / agile gunman / space wizard archetype, whichever you choose to play. The abilities, especially supers, are very satisfying. Everything has heft and power behind it which can be felt in all aspects of design; sound and animation is top notch. Movement is cool, you can feel how fast you move both on foot and in vehicles and the navigation has a little fun subtlety depending on your class jump, even if you can bounce unpredictably occasionally. But for the love of god why is the wall kick in there? It has only ever served to push me from a ledge into a bottomless pit. You're looking to remove antiquated content? Start there. Some guns are not so good to shoot but there’s such a great range of guns that are fun its like complaining about one drop in an ocean; and enemies are fun to shoot at, each faction distinct in meaningful ways and presenting an effective challenge. Speaking of oceans, that’s one way to describe the lore. I haven’t dived too deep but it keeps going down forever and everything I’ve read is intriguing. As a former Elder Scrolls lore nut this is something I could definitely sink my teeth into, though its much more of a pulpy sci-fi vibe than a pure nonsense vibe. I do think the game has a bit of a loot problem, primarily in regards to the conflict between high stats and looking good. This should never be a conflict, and yes you can apply ornaments to any purple gear but that’s not enough when I spend the entire time grinding power levels and thus must change armour and weapons on a constant basis to progress. This game needs a true transmog system and if not that, rethink how gear power level works. Perhaps rather than earning new instances of gear you always possess a version of it and the loot you acquire in missions just upgrades your instance to your current overall power level? This would serve to do away with the current upgrade system which I think is a needless additional grind. Perhaps it could be retained in using enhancement cores to empower gear as present but necessitating a whole upgrade module to keep your favourite weapon on hand is kind of painful honestly. There is also at present the issue of sunsetting gear, mildly controversial to say the least. If it’s necessary to streamline the game and make it function moving forward so be it but surely loot pools should be adjusted so you can actually get useful loot from older locations? And why sunset personal instances of gear which can be acquired at the regular power level anyway? I had to throw away my favourite bow and hunt down a new version of the exact same weapon for… what reason? I do think destination navigation leaves a little to be desired also. I get that having a physical hub world is meaningful but Destiny does not have a very extroverted community; I can count the times someone noticed me in the tower on one hand. And its not even like there’s fun activities to be found in the same sense as say Deep Rock Galactic, which really does take advantage of its hub. Perhaps for players who simply want to go about their business all of the vendors could be set into a menu system where just clicking an icon takes you to their menu from anywhere in the system rather than, per se, having to go through an entire loading screen (Which takes you to orbit and back) to reach a location which serves simply as the front for four menus. These are established player problems. As a dedicated PvE player I can say that this game is immensely fun in combat and growing in power does feel really good. It’s something I recommend getting into, there’s just some very large creases that need ironing which the Bungie should really take the time to address rather than pushing out new in game content every three months.

#the truman show #horizon zero dawn #rimworld #factorio #destiny 2 #d2 #film #movies #video games #i dont know what im doing #hzd #opinion

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Fic title thing - heart held close to the moon and Neptune

...

...............

Neptune ... Neptune was the Roman god of the sea right? ... Just looked it up and yes he was so-

>:D

FF7

Mer

But rather than EVERYONE being mer or whatever, it’s ONLY the three Soldier Firsts of canon. Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal who have never met any other mer, because Shinra are immoral and terrible and use propaganda to promote the idea that Mer aren’t REALLY just like humans in intelligence and emotional range and soul, they just happen to look human-ish on the top half. And because Mer are seemingly extinct (read: in hiding), they have nobly “Resurrected” the lost line of the “most exotic creatures of the sea” in Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal and claim to be in the process of cloning female Mers to “reintroduce the species”.

Except mer are NOT animals.

Mer are the children of Gaia’s oceans, the pulse of her waves and tides, touched by her moon on high. Mer are MAGIC and they will not be contained.

They escape, by the skin of their teeth and with many bloody scars, helped by the last of descendant of the True Mer (Aerith) who can walk on two legs for a time because of her half-human blood. They flee, out into the wild waters, just the three of them as a pod, rapidly protective of their little Pod Queen Aerith, their little sister in their eyes for all it would doom mer to extinction again. So they swim, up river and through lake and through the sea, and sometimes Aerith stops to visit the human woman who cared for her as a child and to tend the garden on two legs while the other three lounge in the little pond and sing softly together, and it’s ... nice.

Then Aerith meets Zack. Zack who is a cheerful sellsword rather than a Shinra plaything, who still respect the Old Ways as best as an ignorant human can, and Aerith adores him and so despite what they want, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal refrain from dragging him below the waves and eating him for trying to court their sister. But Zack is genuine and not cruel like the other humans they’ve met, he gets along with Elmyra and dotes on Aerith and Angeal ends up taking him under his fin after Zack nearly falls in and downs in the pond because surprise this idiot CAN’T SWIM, and really that is that. They have another human in the pod.

Zack tells them all sorts of stories, of the lands they’ve never seen. Jungles and deserts and icy mountains, and in those stories one name and description comes up a lot, the other, younger sellsword Cloud Strife. A fierce little mountain girl who still swears to the Old Spirits and avoids Fairy Circles and will not set foot on a boat until she’s made a sacrifice to the lost Children of the Sea. He describes his “little buddy” so often during his tales that really, it’s no wonder Sephiroth RECOGNIZES the woman while on a solo hunt, struggling in the water, bubbles escaping her mouth and nose, arms and legs bound from where she’s been THROWN OVERBOARD by pirates stealing the ship she had booked passage on.

Sephiroth screams and the storm screams back. The pirates stand no chance and Sephiroth pays them no more mind as he dives down for Cloud, ripping the ropes apart with his claws, swims her up to the surface and realizes that the storm he just summoned is a PROBLEM. The waves are too high for him to keep the human’s head above the water and she’s already NOT BREATHING and Sephiroth can’t just- UNSUMMON a storm, but this girl is Zack’s friend and Zack is pod which makes THIS ONE pod and Sephiroth-can’t-let-her-die-.

Sephiroth holds her close and sings-sings-sings, struggling against death, screaming to the moon to spare this human, to make her SURVIVE somehow, because Sephiroth has too few people in his life and he cannot afford to lose any of them, even one he has never met before.

And Sephiroth-

Sephiroth was Hojo’s finest creation. He was grown from the blood of the most Ancient mer. The Wild Kin even Aerith’s race of mer feared for their power, their savagery, their ability to wrap up the world in their voice and SHAPE it the way they wanted. Jenova is not an alien virus in this au, oh no, Jenova was The Sea Witch. The most feared and powerful and deadly o the Wild Kin, the last to fall in their war against the much more numerous humans and Cetra mer that had banded together against the Wild Kin and their Sea Witches. Jenova was the one who cursed the Cetra and decimated their numbers, she was the one to freeze the great northern sea mid-motion like a glacier around a great crater.

Jenova is, in a morbid, cloned sense, his mother.

Sephiroth sings.

The world obeys.

The body in his arms changes.

Cloud breathes in water and does not drown.

When Cloud groggily wakes up three days later, it’s to one very frantic Zack hovering over her face, the sky above her head, and the weird sensation of being submerged from the waist down. She remembers being knocked off the ship and sits up in confusion-

Looks down and doesn’t see legs.

The glittering tail of ink black and spiraling ice blue twitches spasmodically under her stare, responding to her desperate attempts to move legs that AREN’T THERE ANYMORE.

Cloud starts screaming and all the glass and quite a bit of nearby stone shatters.

While Zack and Aerith help deal with ... THAT whole mess, Sephiroth lurks guiltily in the nearby river, not daring to enter the pond while Genesis whimsically notes that aside from the ice blue swirls, her tail exact same shade of black as his, so does that mean she’s a full blooded Wild Kin now? Genesis and Angeal aren’t, because they have bright red and bright blue scales with black highlights respectively, sign of Wild Kin blood but not nearly as pure as Sephiroth’s jet black and trademark silver hair and slitted eyes. Angeal slaps Genesis over the head and says there are bigger things to worry about, because SINCE WHEN was any kind of magic strong enough to transform a human into an ACTUAL MER and what do they do now? Sephiroth already tried turning her back, but it didn’t work, because that kind of Song that remakes the world itself can only be used on a person on that large a scale ONCE, so now they’re stuck and how will they explain any of that to Zack’s formerly-human friend.

Sephiroth continues to lurk at the bottom of the river, feeling very guilty. He didn’t mean to do that. He meant to save her, not transform her, and the entire thing tastes too much of Hojo’s lab and his unwanted experiments and talk of using Sephiroth’s blood to create clones or hybrids.

Maybe once Zack and Aerith calm her down she won’t entirely hate him?

Who is he kidding, she’ll probably try to gut him with her bare claws.

(Anyway a sort of Modern-Fantasy AU where Mako is a thing but the SOLDIER program isn’t, Mer are a thing, and Fem!Cloud and Sephiroth end up doing an enemies to lovers slowburn but more in a you-transformed-me-against-my-will-so-I-HATE-YOU to friends to lovers way.)

(Also Hojo tries to do more evil shenanigans and Shinra hopes to conquer the world, but that all gets shut down by the Pod because fun fact you can’t run a wold spanning empire if all your ships keep mysteriously getting sunk. It’s not like you can helicopter EVERYTHING over the water, especially since all air traffic gets rapidly shut down by the mysterious super storms that blow in when they try. Reeve eventually gets accidentally kidnapped by the Pod and converted to their side so he starts looking into non-Lifestream power alternatives and Rufus is on board because honestly there’s nothing like a couple of mer arguing, IN YOUR LANGUAGE on whether they should eat you for your sins to make you rethink your life choices and by extension all your evil father’s life choices.)

(Also also Vincent and Felicia are both experiments by Hojo to see if he could create human-mer hybrids. Felicia is a sea serpent and Vincent sometimes forgets that Legs Are A Thing and so just sighs tiredly on Elmyra’s floor in all his red and black octopi glory. Veld is pulled on board the “lets kill Hojo and reform Shinra” boat after he nearly gets his throat torn out by his long lost daughter only for his long lost Turk partner to tackle her and talk her down from accidental patricide.)

(For reference, Sephiroth is a black beta fish with some silver edging on his fins, Genesis is a red with black stripes lionfish, and Angeal is a long-suffering blue and black lions fish. Aerith turns into a long-finned koi, and discovers quite by accident that if you kiss your human boyfriend enough times he gains the ability to breathe underwater and transform into a mer for a few hours before changing back into a human again.)

(And because I’m on a roll, Nanaki is still a cat-lion-thing, Cait Sith has underwater capabilities, Jesse, Wedge, and Biggs are all incredibly baffled humans who aren’t sure how this is their life now, Tifa would like to know when and how her best friend became a Mer (Cloud: It’s all catfish’s fault. Sephiroth: hey.) Barret is a monstrously overprotective dad and Marlene is the world’s cutest baby mer and Sephiroth would literally destroy the world for her if she asked him too. Genesis would help him. Angeal would just sigh and hold Marlene out of the danger zone.)

#SE asks #byakko4 asks #Secret Engima Rambles #title prompt #Mer!Seph verse

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fuckyeahwarriorwomen · 4 years

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Copy of article below thge cut, should the original ever go away

Leading up to the 20th anniversary of the March 10, 1997 premiere of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Yahoo TV is celebrating “Why Genre Shows Matter” and the history of how these shows have tackled universal themes (e.g. how much high school sucks) and broader social issues.

Perhaps because they seek to imagine the world that’s possible rather than the world that is, genre shows have a long tradition of striving to expand the horizons of what’s possible for women on television. Within the realm of space operas alone, there’s a direct line that connects Lieutenant Uhura’s prominent perch amongst the Enterprise‘s largely male bridge crew on the original Star Trek to The Expanse‘s fiercely independent engineer, Naomi Nagata. And each point along this continuum helps inform the next: commanding officers like Babylon 5‘s Susan Ivanova and Voyager‘s Kathryn Janeway are linked by a devotion to duty, if not necessarily temperament, while Killjoys‘ scrappy bounty hunter, Yala, could have been a student of Firefly‘s highly-skilled soldier, Zoë Washburne. On this International Women’s Day, we celebrate the accomplishments of one such influential intergalactic heroine.

Her name is Aeryn. Officer Aeryn Sun if we’re being formal, one of the interstellar outlaws at the center of Farscape, the wildly ambitious Australian/American space serial that ran from 1999 to 2003 on the Sci-Fi Channel. Bred from birth to be a loyal Sebacean soldier in the Peacekeeper army that patrols her section of the galaxy, Officer Sun switches careers after inadvertently ending up aboard a living spaceship named Moya that’s occupied by a motley crew of jailbreakers. These convicts-turned-comrades include towering warrior Ka D’Argo, blue-hued priestess Zhaan, flatulent deposed despot Rygel XVI, and John Crichton, an Earth-born astronaut who is very, very far from home. Created by Rockne S. O’Bannon and produced by The Jim Henson Company, Farscape enjoyed a bumpy four-season stateside run that ended prematurely when the network declined to fund a fifth and final year. (Sci-Fi later aired, but didn’t finance, a wrap-up miniseries, Farscape: The Peacekeeper Wars, in 2004.)

The original cast of ‘Farscape’ (Credit: Everett Collection)

One of the joys of Farscape is that its defining house style is the lack of a defining house style. Episodes can range from standalone homages to body-switching comedies and vintage Loony Tunes cartoons to densely plotted multi-part stories that don’t conclude with conventionally happy endings. The primary constant amidst this narrative and tonal juggling is the turbulent love story between Aeryn Sun and John Crichton. Revisited today, Farscape stands as something of a bridge between eras of space opera, linking the last wave of episodic space adventures like Star Trek: Voyager and Stargate: SG-1 to the intensely emotional serialized narratives that later drove Battlestar Galactica and its ilk. Aeryn is both a traditional and transformational figure as well; raised to be an impersonal enforcer in the Imperial Stormtrooper mold, she comes to live out a promise that John makes to her in the very first episode: “You can be more.”

“Oh, I’ve got chills down my arm,” says Aeryn’s alter ego, Claudia Black, as she reflects on the character and those prophetic words nearly two decades later. “Her evolution as an individual takes off in an extraordinary way [after that].” Over the course of Yahoo TV’s hour-long conversation with the Australian actress, it’s clear that she does regard Aeryn as an individual unto herself, one who took on a life that sometimes superseded the actress’s own. “I was always happy to hand the character off,” Black says. “I would say [to the producers], ‘If I’m going in the wrong direction then please find someone to serve Aeryn, please. Because she deserves to have the full love of a person who can give you what you need.’ She was honestly such a privilege to play, and I never abused that privilege.”

And Black very nearly didn’t get that privilege. The role had already been cast when she first auditioned for Farscape, but the creative team encouraged her to read for Aeryn anyway. That reading later led to a screen test opposite Tennessee-born Ben Browder, who would be playing John Crichton. (Interestingly, Browder’s casting is, in part, what opened the door to Black inheriting the role from the English actress who had originally been chosen as Aeryn. “Because of the Australian co-production agreement, if they brought in a lead actor from America, the second lead had to be Australian,” Black explains. “So thank god for our union!”) Immediately recognizing the crackling onscreen chemistry between them, Browder pushed hard for her to land the role over network skepticism. “I was a controversial choice for sure,” Black says now. “I was just lucky in the end.”

Whatever the circumstances of how she got the role, Black climbed aboard Moya with strong ideas about how to play Aeryn. Superficially, the character is part of the wave of warrior women that swept through genre shows in the ’90s and early ’00s, whose ranks included Xena, Buffy, and even Cleo of Cleopatra 2525 fame. But as conceived by O’Bannon and carried forward by executive producer David Kemper, who became a driving creative force behind the show, Aeryn cuts against that archetype as well. Unlike Xena, she doesn’t necessarily relish battle; it’s something that’s been programmed into her. (Although, as Aeryn memorably remarks in The Peacekeeper Wars: “Shooting makes me feel better!“) She also reverses the arc traversed by Buffy and Cleo, which begins with them in places of perceived weakness — as a cheerleader and exotic dancer, respectively — and leads towards empowerment.

Because of her militaristic upbringing, Aeryn starts from a place of fierce strength. Her journey over the lifespan of the show, then, becomes about softening what Black describes as Aeryn’s “jagged edges” without surrendering her agency. “I’ve always loved science fiction because of the way it affords us an opportunity to look at humanity from an outsider’s perspective,” Black says. “And Aeryn really gets to experience it firsthand the best way that humans can, which is through love, in all of its forms. When I look at humanity, and my own life, we have to break before we can grow. That’s really what happened with Aeryn; she became stronger with softer edges.” (For the record, Aeryn may start out as a superior fighter to Buffy, but Black says that Sarah Michelle Gellar would easily mop the floor with her in real life. “Sarah has a black belt in karate, and I have two left feet! I always felt like a bit of an imposter [as Aeryn] just on the physical front. If I could push the reset button, I’d go back and get good at some form of martial art.”)

But that stronger-to-softer arc is also more treacherous to navigate than a traditional empowerment story, flirting, as it does, with the fanboy-friendly stereotype of the buttoned-up ice queen whose resolve (and inhibitions) melt when love, generally in the form of a strapping male hero, comes her way. The risk of falling headlong into that tired trope is something Farscape had to deal with throughout its run, especially as the core of the show was always the romance between John and Aeryn.

And while that romance takes a number of unexpected twists and turns — most boldly in a Season 3 storyline that saw Aeryn committing herself fully to a cloned version of Crichton, only to see him die and then have to re-learn how to love the original John — it ultimately culminates with two staples of a standard love story: a marriage proposal and a pregnancy. “It seemed pretty clear to me that Rockne’s intention in the pilot was that this was going to be a love story for the ages,” Black says. Not only that, but it was a love story penned by a largely male writing staff who had their own opinions about how to depict Aeryn’s gradual acceptance of Crichton’s love that sometimes ran counter to Black’s feelings. “I recall moments where they wanted me to be more vulnerable with Aeryn, and I didn’t want to be because I didn’t think it was time and I didn’t think she was ready,” she says. “But it wasn’t my place to say.”

Nevertheless, she persistently found ways to make her voice heard, whether it was by talking one-on-one with specific writers or her co-star, who was equally eager to avoid certain genre show clichés. Black recalls one instance early on in the show’s run when Browder actively pushed back against Sci-Fi’s directive that John Crichton demonstrate the same sex drive as James T. Kirk. “They wanted Crichton to have an alien girl of the week. Ben put his foot down and said, ‘No, he’s not that kind of guy. This isn’t the story I want to tell.’ And on my side I was saying, ‘Yeah, what does that say about Aeryn if she’s going to fall in love with a guy [like that]?’ We wanted to investigate and have them experience the more positive aspects of attraction, as well as what’s worth fighting for and what’s worth dying for,” she says. “Maybe the show would have continued longer if we’d been able to please the network! They know what they’re going to need in order to keep [viewers] interested and tuning in. But we’re very proud of what we managed to make regardless, because of those choices.”

The ongoing battle that Black personally waged throughout Farscape‘s run was ensuring that Aeryn maintained control over her own body. In the genre shows of her era, the female leads were stronger and savvier than ever, and that translated into fashion choices that expressed their own body confidence and sexuality. Xena rode into battle in a heaving breastplate, while Buffy fought vampires in halter tops and Relic Hunter‘s Sydney Fox always donned a tight tank top before exploring some ancient tomb. But flashing cleavage, leg, and midriff also made those characters desirable pin-ups for the male audience courted by networks and advertisers. (Farscape added its own version of a pin-up type midway through the first season in the form of Chiana, a grey-skinned con artist with a plunging neckline and a voracious sexual appetite.)

But those fashions didn’t make sense for a soldier fighting in an army where men and women’s bodies were interchangeable. In fact, Black remembers reading a very specific direction to the makeup department in the production notes for the pilot. “When I take my Peacekeeper helmet off [for the first time], the note read in big print, ‘She looks masculine.’ They thickened my eyebrows — which are already thick! — and shaded my face in very minimal makeup. All of the on-set gallery images of me in the first season are with that very masculine makeup.”

Aeryn in her ‘masculine’ Season 1 appearance (Credit: Everett Collection)

By Season 2, though, Aeryn’s appearance underwent a noticeable change; her hair got longer and straighter, and her Peacekeeper uniform gave way to outfits that walked a line between practical and revealing. Black, who describes herself as a feminist, agreed to these cosmetic changes as she felt they were part of a “natural progression” for Aeryn. “I was honoring where she had come from at the same time having to find a way to let her grow into whatever it is she was going to become,” she says. (This clip from Farscape‘s aforementioned Looney Tunes-inspired episode, “Revenging Angel,” neatly summarizes — and satirizes — the female body types commonly featured on genre shows that Aeryn deliberately defies.)

Already objectively beautiful, Aeryn’s sexuality continued to emerge as she grew into her new self. Even so, Black could sense it wasn’t emerging quickly enough to satisfy certain expectations. “I felt that I was being pushed to show more flesh than was necessary,” she admits, pointing to one incident in the show’s fourth season where it was written into the script that Aeryn would sit poolside in a bikini. “I just said, ‘I will get in a bikini for you if it makes sense, but this woman’s world is falling apart.’ It was the last thing I thought Aeryn would do [in that moment]. It felt really frivolous and superficial to me.” (Black had already donned a bikini to play pregnant Aeryn in a hallucinatory scene in the Season 4 premiere. “They not only had me in a bikini, but they gave me a pregnant belly as well, which is really hard to pull off and make it look naturalistic,” she says.)

Black remembers shooting down an even more egregious bit of flesh-flashing in an earlier episode. As an international production, Farscape frequently shot extra scenes for certain ad-free European markets that would fill the time normally allotted for commercials. The cast referred to these filler sequences as “Euro scenes,” and they rarely involved big story or character beats. According to Black, this particular episode dispatched D’Argo and Aeryn on a planetside mission, and the writers cobbled together a Euro scene that she describes as “absurd.” “They said, ‘Let’s have a scene where we cut to them by a lake, and Aeryn turns and sees a bunch of soldiers across the lake. Aeryn takes off her clothes, swims across the lake, and fights these soldiers completely naked, then comes back to D’Argo and off they go.'”

In later seasons, Aeryn naturally progressed towards more revealing fashion choices (Credit: Everett Collection)

“There were so many things about it that were so bizarre,” she continues. “I said, ‘You know what, please explain this to me, how this honestly can fit in.’ In the end, they just said, ‘All right, fine — we won’t do it.’ That’s what I felt I was having to haggle for a lot of the time: my right to keep my clothes on until it was appropriate. I’ve always felt as an actor — and I’m sure other females have felt like this as well — that when you sign on the dotted line and enter the business that somehow you’ve given your body away as a piece of property, and you spend the rest of your career haggling for pieces of it back.” And the actress credits Browder with backing her up in her fight for Aeryn to be in full control of her own femininity and, by extension, her destiny. “Aeryn is really as feminist as I am, but she’s nothing without Crichton, which is an interesting statement to make,” she says. “So as much as we praise Aeryn, we must give full credit to Crichton and to Ben for shaping him the way that he did. It’s the space that he gives her. He’s such an exquisite champion of her growth and development, that it becomes possible for her to grow to her full size.”

In the 13 years since the concluding Peacekeeper Wars miniseries, rumors have occasionally flown about Farscape‘s return. At one point, there was talk of a webisode series following John and Aeryn’s child, D’Ago Sun-Crichton, but funding never came to fruition. (The show did continue in comic book form for a time, but publication ceased circa 2011.) Black, whose recent credits include stints on The CW genre shows Containment and The Originals, has no updates on any future revivals, and jokes that if Aeryn and Crichton ever do return, they’ll be “tired, ornery, and not really wanting another battle.”

Claudia Black as Dahlia on ‘The Originals’ (Credit: Annette Brown/The CW)

In a way, though, Aeryn’s larger battle has already been won. One of the breakout characters on Battlestar Galactica — which premiered in December 2003, nine months after Farscape‘s series finale — was Kara “Starbuck” Thrace, who displays some of the same steely spine, and jagged edges, of Officer Sun. And today’s genre TV landscape is populated with women who, consciously or not, reflect Aeryn’s assertiveness, independence, and refusal to conform to societal (or genre) norms of appearance or attitude, whether it’s Orphan Black‘s Helena, Sense8‘s Nomi, or Jessica Jones.

For this Scaper, she lives on off-screen as well. When my wife and I learned that we’d be having a daughter, we thought about all the things we wanted for her life. To know that she, and she alone, is in control of her body. To be strong in the face of injustice. To be confident in her own power. And to know that when she chooses to give her heart to another person, that person will be her champion, and give her the space to grow to her full size. And so we picked a name that, for us, would embody all of our hopes and dreams for the individual she’s becoming with each passing year.

Her name is Aeryn.

#warrior women #aeryn sun #claudia black #farscape #feminism

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thegreenwolf · 4 years

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Note: This post was originally posted on No Unsacred Place in 2011, and then later Paths Through the Forests. I am now archiving it at my blog at http://www.thegreenwolf.com/blog so I can have more of my writings in one place.

There’s a recurring dream I have; it started when I was young. In it, I take my form as a white wolf. I’m in a forest, and the forest is burning. The tall pines and fir trees crackle and split in the flames around me, and I can hardly breathe for the stinging clutch of smoke at my throat. Hot embers scorch the pads of my paws. The tops of the trees begin to topple over, weakened by the flames, and the ground is suddenly made more hazardous with smoldering logs. If I could only find my way out…where is my pack?

I awaken suddenly, panting, startled, thrust back into my skin and flesh and bone all too quickly.

Human legend and lore is full of shapeshifters. Sometimes the changes are literal—physically transmuting the body into that of another animal, or even a plant or stone. Sometimes the person may become a breeze, or a waterway. Sometimes the change is conscious and consensual; other times…not so much.

There are other shapeshifters, too. They include those who take on many roles—Lugh Samhildánach (The Many-Skilled), who excelled at any task given, or polymaths like Leonardo da Vinci. Many people, from thespians to cosplayers, take on a new persona when they don particular clothing; we see this in the wearing of ritual regalia in many traditions as well.

Shapeshifting, for some, is only about taking on a role, wrapping a core self with a persona that may be worn or removed like clothing. But in a more ritualized, spiritual setting, shapeshifting is about becoming something other than ourselves.

The idea of stepping outside of the self and into another is often alarming to the Western post-industrial mindset. It brings up inaccurate images of mental illnesses, or at the very least identity confusion. We are taught that each person has only one identity, and while it may be tweaked a bit here and there depending on whether you’re talking to Aunt Mabel or your secret crush or a job interviewer, you’re still supposed to essentially be you.

Yet to be done fully, shapeshifting necessitates a very deep empathy with another being. Most of us don’t empathize beyond emotions; we allow ourselves to feel with another person’s pain, for example. But to really become another being, we have to open ourselves up beyond that, and set ourselves aside.

I am 23 years old, at my very first pagan gathering, a weekend celebration at Brushwood Folklore Center in New York. Night has long since fallen, and I am at the drum circle, with a fire burning brightly in the center. In my hands I hold my grey wolf skin that I have transformed into a dance costume with carefully tied leather straps. I have spent hours practicing dancing in it in my apartment for the better part of a year, but this is the first time I’ve been brave enough to dance in front of others.

I drape the hide over my head, slip my arms through the same holes that lupine muscle and bone once filled, and tie the hide to my head, wrists and ankles. I feel Wolf the totem, and wolf the spirit, slide over me with the hide, and I suddenly feel I am so much more than myself. I step into the lines of dancers circling around the fire again and again, and I—we, the wolves and I—begin to dance. And soon, it is just I, Wolf-I.

We require an Other place to shift into an Other self. It may be Other only in the sense that one’s physical setting has changed—going from work to home, for example. But the Other place may also be the land of dreams, or the spirit world of journeys, or a physical wilderness unlike one’s home territory—or a deliberate ritual setting.The dreamland is often the first place we experience shapeshifting of some sort, due to its universality in our experiences, as well as its mutable nature. The dreamland may alternately be described as the subconscious romping ground of our brains and the cumulative inner landscapes we have inherited from our many ancestors, or entry into an entire world apart from us where we might literally meet our ancestors, among other spirits.

As we grow older and become more integrated into relationships with other beings, human and otherwise, we develop the ability to make subtle changes in ourselves according to present company and setting. The shifts are largely unconscious, and we may only be peripherally aware that they’re happening most of the time. By comparing how we present ourselves in various situations, we can begin to better understand the processes by which we change.

Ritual is a deliberate shift. We put on special vestments, create ritual space, and utilize items that are unique to that setting. We may still remain ourselves, though yet a different part thereof. But some of us also become other beings entirely through invocation and similar rites. While our earlier experiences with shapeshifting may seem to be out of our hands—literally—practice does make perfect, or at least better.

Drumbeats carry me into the journeying state; I can still vaguely feel my left arm pounding the beater against the horsehide drum held by my right. However, it is an arm covered in white fur. The fingers are shorter, stubbier, ending in claws, and growing less and less human as I watch. Were I to return to my physical form, I would find myself just as human as ever. But here, in the spirit world, my human form melts away—wolf-form is easier to travel in, easier to protect myself in. And there are beings who will only speak to me in this form, too. Humans can be scarier than wolves, you know.

Consciously shapeshifting into another being, especially with the aid of a representative of that sort of being, can be one of the most powerful acts of magic. The effects may be wide-ranging.

On an individual level, we may go places we couldn’t otherwise, in spirit and in emotion and in mind. We can break out of personal ruts, learn valuable lessons from the beings we become that we can then bring back to our human lives, and strengthen our imaginations and other creative spiritual skills.

We also stand to learn more about the world around us, to be more aware of the importance of other beings and places. It is harder to disregard someone that you have been yourself, even for a short while. Indeed, for many people what is most sacred is that in which we are most able to immerse or surrender ourselves.

Those sacred things that allow us to temporarily blur or remove our boundaries vary from person to person. I have limited my anecdotes to my experiences with Wolf and wolf spirits—partly due to tradition, and also to show that it’s possible to work with the same energy/being in different forms of shapeshifting. But it is quite possible to connect with a variety of animals, plants, stones, waterways, places, and yes, even buildings and statues and parks, through shapeshifting. This holds true whether it’s on an individual scale, or something as potentially elaborate as Joanna Macy’s and John Seed’s Council of All Beings.

In my next post, I’ll be offering more practical information on methods of shapeshifting, with a special emphasis on practicing it as a way of connecting with other beings.

Did you enjoy this post? Please consider supporting my work on Patreon, buying my art and books on Etsy, or tipping me at Ko-fi!

#pagan #magic #shapeshifting #therianthropy #animism #mine

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alarawriting · 5 years

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Inktober #12: Dragon

Yeah, out of order again. I have plans for prompt 11 but this was the one that came to me first.

***

Ichtyrios bent his head very, very low to look inside the nursery. “They look so unfinished. Like fat little larvae. Do they undergo a metamorphosis?”

His companion, Ysabriem, laughed. “It’s a lot like that, but they never enter a cocoon… over the course of 12 years, they change into smaller versions of the full-grown ones. Before that age they need enormous amounts of care, and they’re not very useful. We start training them when they’re 5, teaching them mathematics and ciphering, and then the physical tasks around the age of 7.”

“But they’re not useful until they’re 12? That seems very odd. Aren’t they supposedly intelligent?”

“Oh, they’re very intelligent. Excellent problem-solvers, and those tiny little digits of theirs are incredibly dexterous.”

“So why does it take them so long to become useful?” He lifted his head. “Our young are born knowing enough to be fully functional even if their parents are dead.”

“Our young take 30 years to hatch. They grow their young in their bodies for not even a full year.”

Ichtyrios nodded, his talons reaching up to stroke his chin. “That’s a good point. I hadn’t thought of that. They’re halfway through their lives by the time one of us is ready to hatch.”

“Closer to a third, but yes.” Ysabriem began walking toward the Choosing creche. “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

“It’s why I came, yes,” Ichtyrios said impatiently, huffing a quick puff of smoke. “I just – I’m not sure. A commitment of seventy, eighty years? Hardly forever, but it’s not trivial either.”

“It’s true,” Ysabriem said without looking back at him. “If you’re not prepared to make that commitment, you really shouldn’t take on a human Companion. They’re loyal, talented, smart and easy to train, and I’ve never known a dragon who regretted the decision… but that’s because every dragon who comes here to be Chosen is certain. You have to be sure before making the commitment.”

“What happens to them if it doesn’t work out? If the dragon dies while they’re still alive, or doesn’t get along with them and wants to give them back?”

Ysabriem shrugged. “Some Choose again, and become a different dragon’s Companion. Some never do; their hearts are broken, and they can’t bear to live among dragons again. We try to make sure only the most resilient ones are allowed to make the Choice, but humans are much more fragile than dragons, in more ways than just the obvious physical differences. Their emotions are nothing to toy with, Icht. If you’re not sure, I won’t allow a human to Choose you.”

“You don’t have one.”

“I’ve had two, in my lifetime. It’s… terrible, watching them die. One lived out her natural span, so at least I was expecting it… but the other one died fixing our ship’s reactor. Radiation poisoning. It’s a terrible way to go.” She sighed. “So I work with the nursery and the creche. I don’t have my own human anymore, but I get to see and care for hundreds of them, when they’re youngest and least likely to die.”

“But you gave up space for that?”

“Yes, well.” Ysabriem’s nictating eyelids slid closed, one of the few involuntary expressions of sorrow that dragons made. “I regret losing space, but I don’t regret not taking on a new companion and I don’t regret working with the young humans. Maybe someday I’ll feel able to go back out again, and on that day, I’ll present myself to the fledgling humans and see if any of them Choose me.”

“I want to go to space,” Ichtyrios said. “I’ve been all over the world. There’s nothing more to see here, no more lands to explore. We’ve colonized our entire world. I want to go places no dragon has ever been.”

“You hoard new experiences?” Ysabriem waved her tail in an expression of friendly cheer. “Many do. And you’re right, there’s no better way to experience things no other dragon ever has than to explore space. The humans – most of them – are driven by the same desire. They want to see things, to learn things and walk in places that no human has before.”

“They’re so small. So fragile.”

“They are, but they have to be. A dragon can’t work with the micrometer tolerances the engines need… not without tools, and most of our tools die in the magnetic fields we need to keep the fuel bottled and channeled. Humans are much more vulnerable to the radiation, but they’re small enough and their hands skilled enough that they can keep the engines maintained at nine nine’s of efficiency. No dragon has ever managed to pull that off; even when we’ve created experimental craft that don’t need a human’s touch, the best a dragon can manage is three nine’s. We’re just not evolved to care about problems so small; we can’t focus on that level of detail, not when there’s treasures to find. Plus, dragons without human companions have a bad habit of recklessly pursuing treasure and getting killed; we’re too used to being virtually invulnerable, but space can kill us too. Humans aren’t apex predators. They know they can easily be killed, and that makes them more cautious than dragons.”

“I’ve heard a rumor that dragons with human Companions go into heat or rut every time the human does?”

Ysabriem laughed puffs of smoke. “Oh – oh, dear me, no! I’ve heard that one too, and I have no idea why. Humans don’t go into heat, or rut. Or rather, they’re always there. A decade or less after you get your Companion, they’ll be seeking to mate with other humans virtually every chance they get. If you were influenced into heat or rut every time your human mated, you’d get nothing done!”

“Ah.” Ichtyrios laughed as well in relief. “That’s good to hear. I’d heard about the humans mating so frequently, and if your Companion mating causes you to go into rut—oh dear is right!”

“Also, they don’t have to mate with the Companion of your mate when you’re in mating season, you can’t read their minds, they can’t read your minds, they don’t kill themselves in grief when you die – though many humans will absolutely put themselves in grave danger to avenge you if what kills you is a living being, and Companions are chosen for their willingness to risk their lives to protect you and make sure you don’t die. Have I covered all the silly myths?”

“Most of the ones I’ve heard. But they do Choose us, not the other way around.”

“Right.” Ysabriem dipped her head to signal emphatic agreement. “Think about it. They’re choosing a dragon to be Companion to for their entire lives. Of course they need to be the ones to Choose.”

“How do they make the Choice?”

“Well, no dragon is completely certain how they do it… the human Elders keep that a secret. But we’re fairly sure that they teach the children what traits to look for in a dragon to match their own needs, and the children get to review the personality profiles of any dragon coming to the Choosing Grounds. We think sometimes that children who never pick a dragon had their heart set on one who applied to present themselves to be Chosen, but then never showed up.”

“Wait. So you’re saying there might be a human who’s already Chosen me?”

“I know, it seems a little less magic than the thought that they can just look at you and know – and you know, it’s possible they’re doing some of that, too. Humans have very little genetic diversity; they come in ranges of basically three colors, they’re all within around 15% of the same size, and there’s nothing about their face shape, body type or coloration that says anything about their personality. To them, the fact that you can tell certain things about a dragon’s personality from our color, size, body shape or the types of ridges and ruffs we have on our bodies must seem like we’re an open book, in comparison to them. But we do think they’re studying more than that about us, before they make their Choice. So… yes, it’s possible there’s a human who’s already decided to Choose you.”

For some reason that was what made Ichtyrios’s decision for him. If a human didn’t Choose him this time around, maybe he’d rethink his decision, but for now… what if there was a human who wanted to be his Companion already, who’d been studying him and dreaming of being his personal assistant and traveling in space with him, and he didn’t show up and that human’s fragile heart was broken? Humans were far more sentimental and far more social than dragons; they needed the presence of other sapient beings far more than dragons did, and the loss of a person’s presence when they expected one could do them actual physical damage, or at least Ichtyrios had been so taught.

He didn’t want to harm the human who possibly already loved him and dreamed of being his friend by not showing up for that human to Choose him.

“All right,” he said. “All right, I’ll do it. Take me to the creche for the Choosing. I want to meet the humans.”

“And you’ll take whichever one Chooses you as your Companion for the rest of its life, caring for it through illness, injury and senescence, providing for its every need – including the need to express and receive affection from its Companion?”

Ichtyrios dipped his head. “I’m ready to make a commitment, yes. I want space… and I want to meet whatever human might decide to Choose me.”

“Then follow me,” Ysabriem said. “The Choosing is in two hours. You won’t want to miss it.”

#inktober 2019 #dragons #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #dragons in space #participating in a long-standing tradition of making fun of Pern #humans as companion animals

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steadyreadycollective · 5 years

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ACCOUNTABILITY DEMAND OF WOODY BATTAGLIA

This is an open letter to demand Rochester, NY comedian and organizer Woody Battaglia [ETA: legal name, Ron Wood] be held accountable for numerous incidents of sexual harassment and assault. The following photos depict conversations and testimonies from survivors. We stand in solidarity with these women, who span the age ranges of 25-35 years old, come from various class backgrounds and include BIPOC women. While not all of them are part of the local comedy scene in Rochester, NY, the majority of them are or were in the past. Due to the obvious patterns of predation by Battaglia, as well as his standing in the comedy community as a show organizer, we anticipate more survivors coming forward once these accounts have been read. The oldest incident reported happened in 2013. [NOTE: Dissociative disorders are common responses to a traumatic event.]

Predation and sexual exploitation is a common tactic among men in leadership positions because power often distorts perception. These men overestimate someone’s friendliness as sexual attraction which creates a dangerous pattern of entitlement. Here is testimony from a woman who experienced Battaglia’s abuse of power in response to her avoiding his prolonged, unwanted sexual advances:

Here is another example of unwanted sexual advances from March, 2019:

A third person explained how Battaglia groomed her at the beginning of her career in an egregious attempt to normalize his sexual advances :

In a scene that is notoriously male-dominated, Woody Battaglia made numerous women feel sexualized, fetishized and unsafe. Sadly, this behavior escalated. CW: The following is an account of sexual assault.

There have been a few attempts at holding Battaglia accountable for his actions, but he usually gaslights survivors and/or their advocates:

Battaglia’s few apologies have been empty and without any notes of true remorse or motions towards rehabilitation. Often, people are unwilling or unable to recognize themselves as assault victims, thus lacking the ability to hold their assailants accountable. Predatory people rely on many things, including social hierarchies, shame, embarrassment and the culture of victim-blaming that happens when survivors come forward. Fear of an unfair legal system as well as police ridicule are also major contributing factors to this culture of silence.

We have reason to believe Battaglia is aware that numerous women have come together to exchange stories of his serial sexual harassment, assaults, gaslighting and professional retaliation. Almost three hours ago, he sent his usual attempt at an apology to a woman where he incentivized her silence by offering free professional development:

We are extremely grateful for all of the women who came forward and bravely used their voices to help put an end to Woody Battaglia’s devastating behaviors. This problem is not unique, especially within creative industries where men are often given positions of power and act as gatekeepers. These are not occupational hazards. These are CRIMES. As stated previously, we have no doubt more survivors will come forward. We will support any attempts made by them towards healing, safety, recovery and accountability. WE DEMAND: 1. Wood Battaglia be immediately removed from any roles of leadership within the comedy community and beyond. 2. Woody Battaglia provide any people willing to work with him a concrete plan to make amends, rehabilitate and honor the autonomy of his victims. 3. Men within the local comedy community make larger, more impactful efforts to speak up for women, femme and non-binary performers. INVEST IN US. PROTECT US. DEFEND US. FOREVER. If you are a survivor in need of help, please go to https://restoresas.org/ You are not alone. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [We’ve decided to consolidate the updates so they are also in this original post] UPDATE 1: We have been informed by survivors that they wish to include Battaglia’s legal name, Ron Wood, in the initial post so we have amended it to reflect those changes. Two more survivors have come forward publicly and one of them has allowed us to re-post her response from last night to this page in hopes of submitting further evidence of Battaglia’s serial predation and, more importantly, to document an incident that dates earlier than 2013, as previously reported. The following incident is from 2012 :

We continue to be in awe of the bravery these women have shown. Coming forward with these testimonies is such a vulnerable and costly action, even when protected by anonymity. Though the solidarity of survivor-kinship can feel validating, these women are still hurting and are likely experiencing new levels of harm by reading the accounts of others. It is our duty to affirm the anger and sorrow of these women, and all survivors, everywhere. The strength they have shown is not only admirable, but life-saving. In order to achieve true liberation for all, we must actively invest in the uplifting of community members’ voices, especially those historically silenced. We have the power to strengthen our communities from the inside. We don’t need saviors. Men: take action. Step up. Call your brothers in and have the hard conversations. Follow through. This work is a daily grind. Ask yourselves if you’ve done the actual work, or if you’re being performative. Remember, saying nothing also says something. To disengage from this conversation is to employ systems that continue to replicate the violences of oppression and, specifically, rape culture. No more. We’ve had enough. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ UPDATE 2: We wish to thank the local Rochester comedy scene and worldwide comedy scenes and unaffiliated individuals who’ve expressed public support of the women who’ve come forward and their lead advocate (a local comedian who has fielded and submitted all of the provided screenshots to us.) This is an extraordinary show of solidarity that gives us hope. The following screenshot is from 2013, submitted by Emily Champion, a former employee of the (now closed) Acanthus Cafe on East Avenue. She worked there for approximately nine months while Battaglia hosted an open mic series. As the open mic series was coming to its end, Battaglia sent the following inappropriate sexual advance to Champion (note the full month of non-communication between them) :

Each testimonial thus far has shown unwelcome verbal and physical sexual attention or instances of sexual misconduct and assault. The majority of women speaking up have noted their “subordinate” positions - Battaglia was in a role of power, abusing his social standing and their trust, causing them to fear social or professional retribution. In our experience with offenders within artistic communities, job insecurity and unreliable wages can be contributing factors in a person’s growing resentment of their “unappreciated” leadership roles. Over time, these people develop an inadequate sense of superiority and entitlement, justifying inappropriate sexual demands from people they believe “owe” them. Due to the voluntary nature of hosting and organizing, many victims lack proper channels to report sexual harassment or assault, leading to further exploitation.

For Those Struggling with The Allegations Against Battaglia

We understand and support you, too. Rape culture’s entire foundation is built on a myriad of the worst emotions / responses: confusion, shame, embarrassment, uncertainty, shock, fear and silence. Your close proximity to a predatory person does not make you complicit but it might require you examine whether you can actively assist in any prolonged rehabilitation and accountability efforts. Often, the immediate response to allegations of sexual misconduct or abuse are to ostracize or make threats to the offender. Everyone responds differently to news of sexual harassment and assault, but the healthiest response is to be supportive of survivors and not commit unlawful acts of retaliation. Yes, it is possible to believe the survivors and remain in healthy contact with the accused. Yes, it is possible to recognize the offender’s humanity and well-being while holding them accountable for their actions and assisting their rehabilitation if you choose.

Allow yourself space. Set boundaries. Seek a professional to support your own physical and mental health.

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NOTE: Incidents like these are why we renounce performative activism: public displays of “woke-ness” (via political memes or declarations made on social media) are by no means indicative of how a person acts in their personal or private life. These displays are sometimes used to thwart recognition of problematic behaviors.

No community is immune to enabling predators. A way to be in direct opposition to this epidemic, which stems from power structures, is by explicitly opposing hierarchies within your community. Do not allow gatekeepers to happen (if there is A Leader of your scene, ask yourselves how they got there and why they've held their position if it’s been longer than a two year span.) Anyone actively working to liberate the most marginalized members of their scene will make efforts to elevate their roles, providing access to leadership positions and community empowerment. Good luck, Rochester. There’s so much work to be done. We’re rooting for you.

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szlachtas · 4 years

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1-25

Wasn’t sure if this meant 1 and 25 or just all of them! So I answered all of them. Long and ooc under the cut:

1. What’s their full name, how’s it pronounced, and what does it mean?

Ieuan Wyn Parry - Pron: YIGH-Unn (Rhymes with Ryan) - Win - Pa-ree

Ieuan is a welsh form of John, which just means 'God is gracious'. Wyn is a name variant of Gwyn, which means 'White'. Parry is a shortening of Ap Harry, which is an old Welsh patronym meaning 'Son of Harry'. None of this means much to their character, I just liked how it sounds.

2. What’s their date of birth? Do they follow the stereotypes of their zodiac?

Sixth of February. Is he stereo-typically Aquarius? Eccentric loner, awkward with emotions, independent to a fault, easily bored, intellectual but stupid, detests limitation. Yeah, I'd say so.

3. What type of drunk are they?

Giggly idiot. A bit more openly affectionate. Bad decision machine go brrr.

4. Give three of their strengths and three of their weaknesses.

Strengths: Imaginative problem solver, High INT, amiable.

Weaknesses: Avoidant/independent and stubborn about it, Low WIS, selfish as shit.

5. What’s their favourite food?

Aside from blood? They have a real sweet tooth, especially for berries.

6. If they were to be represented by a seven deadly sin, which would it be?

Pride. Idiot.

7. Do they have any living relatives? If they do, which one do they like the least and why?

They like to hope their mother offed herself, just so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about leaving her like that, but she is still alive. Everyone else in the immediate family is dead, so her by default. Maybe he has a cousin or something?

8. Describe (or draw) their body type.

It changes, but can be defined as a very androgynous non-human. Their preference for height is around 5'7". They are very slight, their skin is thin on their bones as to maximise the appearance of their body modifications.

9. What’s their biggest fear?

They'd say mud and burial, but that’s mostly representative of being seconds away from wassail again. Frenzies they weren't expecting, or committing path sins will similarly drag this fear up. It's a fear of loss of control over their life, themself. Notice you barely see him angry?

10. Are they a dog or a cat person? Answered ic. ooc answer :

They have a bit more experience with dogs, so that’s their preference. Their own energy is a bit kitten-ish, especially in warform.

11. Describe them in 5 words.

Enthusiastic, curious, analytical, detached, reckless.

12. If your character was handed a puppy, how would they react?

"For me??????"

You didn't hope to get that back, did you? It's getting fleshcrafted now.

13. How would they react to suddenly being hugged? Answered ic. ooc answer:

Depends whose doing it. They recently found out they are quite cuddly, but only with their favourite people. If passing acquaintances or even not so close friends tried it, their reaction would range from awkward stiffness to yanking you off of them with a firm grip around the spine. Don’t touch a fleshcrafter without permission.

14. What’s their biggest secret?

They don't like discussing the specifics of their time as a fledgling, so a lot of that maybe. They won't tell people where their dirt comes from and they won't discuss what they did to their family. Similarly he worries about certain people catching on that most of the people they kidnap for 'materials' are regular innocents who just went for a walk in the woods, with no kind of moral justification. Or all of their motivations being primarily suicidal in nature?

15. What are their pet peeves?

Out of clan people making comments on vicissitude or trying to define it. Being asked questions that edge into the 'You should not teach' sin, because they don't like conflict and saying no. Similarly, random arguments. Dick measuring contests between vampires who think they're cool. And uhhhh. Clingy people. Unfortunately.

16. What’s their opinion on pineapple on pizza?

How long has it been since they've been able to eat? They still haven't tried pizza at all. No opinion.

17. On average, how much sleep do they get at a time?

The full vampire 12 hours. Less in the winter.

18. If they were a superhero, what powers would they have? (if they have powers, what are they and under what conditions do they work?)

Fleshcrafting isn't a very superhero-esque power, but that's what he's working with! We all know how VTM powers work here, folks.

19. Does your character collect anything?

TEETH. VCRs, toxic plants, frogs, notepads. Bodies? Does that count?

20. What would your character’s favourite band(s) be?

Mostly 80s goth bands. Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Sisters of Mercy, Fields of the Nephilim, UK Decay, that kind of thing. They got into a few NU metal bands during the 2000s, and nowadays they sometimes listen to whatever the youtube algorithm shows them, usually random indie bands. The Doom soundtrack.

21. How many languages do they speak, and what are they?

Their first language was Welsh. They also speak English, and can read old ass Romanian, which doesn't come up much.

22. When your character is sad, what do they do to cheer themselves up? Answered ic. ooc answer:

Just ignore it. Or at least try to. They’ll go about their day like regular, except moping, and pretending they’re not. If it’s really bad, they’ll try to sleep it off, or indulge in some particularly gorey work. Recently they’ve discovered the cure all solution of Taking-A-GD-Bath.

23. Does your character snore?

No. Vampire death-sleep.

24. Describe their voice.

Sandy? Slightly nasal. Young-ish, heavily accented. Imagine an excited, 17 year old lad from the welsh countryside, who hasn't spoken all day till now so it's a little soft, or like he just woke up.

25. How long would they last in a zombie apocalypse?

Wait, there was an apocalypse? They wouldn't realise for a good while. They're good at surviving, keeping to themself. It would all fall to pieces if they were pushed out of their domain though, panicky animal mode would be Engaged.

#ask #ooc #anonymous #long post #suicide tw #((This is very long no one is going to read it lkjhgflkhjg #rwp

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scripttorture · 5 years

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Hi! My character (who is between the ages of 14 to 17 that i havent decided specifically) was taken from his family while he was a baby and now serving as a war medic to the side A (his school was specialised in normal medicine and medical magic). He was unaware of his sides actions and was brought up by the side to be exposed to propaganda. After coming to contact with his lost family from Side B and having mildly positive interractions with them, ((1))

((Sides Anon 2)) Side A tortures him for treason and he changes sides and abandons his side A past. I was wondering what he could behave, if he would be able to help people after what he went through, how he could react to his Side A friends? Thank you!((SidesAnon Extra!!)) I have read thru the blog and although magic is semiutilised it doesnt do anything normal torture doesnt do and thesetting is more realism with atouch of fantasy rather than a fantasywith a touch of realism.

Thank you that’s a good amount of information. :)

I can’t give you any age-specific information because I don’t know enough about childhood development to do so. But I don’t think that should effect the answer too much in this case.

If you haven’t already you might want to look up cases like this one in Argentina where children of political opponents were taken and raised by people loyal to those in power. The Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo are a good place to start.

There were also a few cases during world war two in Europe but these can be more difficult to find and they’re not always well documented.

The answers to your questions aren’t exactly clear cut I’m afraid. A lot depends on the individuals and the circumstances.

I’m going to outline possibilities base on what I’ve read about and by survivors. But which of the possibilities is ‘right’ for your story isn’t a question I can answer. It’s up to you to decide what fits with the story you want to tell.

Broadly speaking torture causes opposition. Someone who has been tortured is likely to feel very much opposed to their torturer, and this deep seated opposition can (but does not always) extend broadly to anyone they associate with the torturer. Which can mean things like political factions, countries, ethnic groups.

Torture causes severe mental illness and sometimes physical disability. This does effect what a survivor is capable of. But they are often capable of more then we assume.

Torture effects survivors very deeply and that does have a knock on effect on their relationships. That doesn’t necessarily mean the end of those relationships.

What all this means for you is that there isn’t a straight forward road map to how your character ‘should’ behave or feel. Survivors are a varied bunch. I think that part of the commitment to showing their experiences is accepting that variety and making each story about how this particular character experienced it.

Being tortured by people he thought he could trust is certainly going to shake the character’s world view and his faith in his superiors. But he might believe that the people who abused him were rogue agents, or that his case is one of an individual miscarriage of justice rather then a systematic problem. He might never extend the intense negative feelings he has for his torturers to his friends, his unit or even the ordinary people on this side.

He might feel as though running is a precaution against a dangerous minority, rather then abandoning the group.

On the other hand he might feel as if he can no longer trust anyone even remotely associated with that side. He might want to flee back to his birth family because it’s ‘safer’.

He might feel several of these things at once: that he can’t trust people on this side anymore- but that’s irrational, he loves his friends he really does, and he’s not a traitor. He’s not.

This is part of what I mean when I say that torture is a complex topic. Survivors are subject to some very irrational feelings and they may well be aware that they’re irrational but this does not make the feelings go away.

They are also making a lot of rational assessments about a very extreme situation. And they may not be able to easily judge the difference.

It can pull people in different directions. And the indecision can make things feel much worse.

Which means he might react to his friends as if he can’t trust them. Or he might react to them as if he still trusts them just as much. Or a dozen points in between.

If you picked anxiety or hypervigilance as one of his symptoms he might flinch away from his friends, even if he trusts them and feels like that reaction is ‘wrong’.

Not all of this is rational, and that is normal.

Similarly the way people act after torture (that is after they are safe) can vary hugely.

Some people describe withdrawing, especially if they’re experiencing depression. Some people dissociate. Some people get angry or even aggressive. Some become incredibly anxious or fearful. Sadness about what happened to them. Happiness that it’s over, if they believe it is-

But mostly? Torture survivors experience a range of feelings in the immediate aftermath as they try to come to terms with what happened to them. Feeling most of the things I’ve listed above at various points during the first few days afterwards would be pretty normal.

Torture doesn’t cut people off from the full range of human emotions. And that means that there are a lot of different ways people can act.

I would suggest trying to read survivor accounts and trying to root any response you come up with in the character’s personality and the symptoms you’ve chosen for him.

You could try searching Amnesty International’s website for interviews. I’d suggest trying to concentrate on interviews that discuss more then just the torture these people lived through, because the aim is to get a more holistic view of their lives.

You could also try Alleg’s The Question and Monroe’s A Darkling Plain.

As for whether he could help people- Well it depends on the kind and extent of help you’re imagining and the symptoms you’ve chosen.

A lot of survivors have to work after they’re released. Otherwise they would starve. This is not right and most of them struggle but that doesn’t make them incapable.

Survivors who invested a lot of their identity in their work, who find meaning in it, often want to return to it immediately. Off the top of my head I can think of artists, singers, activists and doctors who all expressed a strong desire to get back to their work.

And the majority of them did. Not necessarily right away and they were not necessarily capable of everything they could do before. But they continued to do what they loved.

Survivors are typically not as good at dealing with a lot of stress and high pressure situations. And as far as possible they shouldn’t be put in those sorts of situations, where their mental health problems are likely to become… painful.

One of the things that seems to come up a lot with survivors who invest a lot of themselves in their work is burnout. They try to cope with their mental health problems by focusing on work and drive themselves too hard. Then things get worse.

Sometimes that can become something of a cycle.

There are also some symptoms that make mistakes on the job more likely. Insomnia and addiction can be particularly dangerous in that regard. Memory problems can cause issues but I get the impression the issues they cause are typically less… life threatening.

If you meant ‘help’ in the sense of emotional support though- I personally do not think that it should be left to survivors to help other survivors heal.

It puts a lot of pressure on people who are already struggling in the name of taking pressure off people who can cope with that pressure… better. I don’t think that’s fair. I think it hurts a lot of survivors.

Survivors can give each other, and non-survivors, emotional support. But people who aren’t trained as therapists can’t really be expected to take that role because they’re mentally ill.

So it depends on what kind of help you want the character to give, how stressful it would be and for how long.

He would still be capable of acting as a doctor. But asking him to pull a 12 hour shift in an emergency room is asking for a meltdown.

In a sensible world he’d be allowed several weeks of recovery and eased back into work gradually, in as stress-free a way as possible.

That isn’t always what happens. Sometimes because the survivor themselves wants to go faster then they can cope with.

Wrapping this up: think about the symptoms you’ve picked for your character. Establish them early. Link them to the way your character behaves, around his friends, around work, around everyday life.

Think about his values and beliefs. Think about what, aside from the ‘side’ he’s on, is at the heart of his identity.

And read survivor accounts. They will help you get a better sense of what’s possible and what you’re trying to describe.

I hope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#writing advice #tw torture #tw child abuse #tw child soldiers #children raised by enemies #child abduction #child soldiers #rehabilitating child soldiers #writing victims #writing recovery #torture survivors and relationships #symptoms of torture #mental health

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wtfzodiacsigns · 5 years

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My Experience With the Signs (Reprise)

Aquarius: They have a commanding presence to them that to some is intimidating but not to me. You stick to your “one way of doing things” far too much. they act emotionally detached even when everyone knows they’re the most sentimental person in the room. some of them get on my nerves with their one track mind, but for the most part we get along. they’re the type to say eww guiltlessly when you say you like something really lame (if they dont then they’re the lame one). don’t really get irony for some reason either. they dont understand how you can be ironically into something really stupid, like saying you ironically listen to journey or hall and oats sometimes.

Pisces: its a 50/50. Either I love you or I can’t stand you theres no in between. they all have high morals and will really push them on people. this isnt a big problem unless their logic makes absolutely no sense which happens. they can be very intelligent but this can lead some to become overzealous. they’re smart, empathic and very compassionate. they are equal parts capable of being my favorite person or me just wanting to kill them due to some of their know-it-all natures and ridiculous logic. they’re the type where you can chain smoke talking about every topic under the sun with for 7 hours. so long as you don’t offend them which can happen pretty easily. make one innocuous joke or comment and all hell will break loose.

Aries: we would be cool except you make every issue about you. I admire your ability to stay positive, almost to a level where i fear you’re actually just ignorant of the problem completely. they’re good at making light of other peoples situations, but if something happens to them that they don’t like, its as if the whole world has to go on hold for them to figure it out. they can be really exhausting this way and come off as being super self absorbed. these are the type to call you at 4am saying “guess what just happened to me.”

Taurus: honestly not much has changed. you are still lazy and still prefer netflix and your bag of cheetos to hanging out. but regardless, they’re level headed and easy to talk to. they love to use the blame game to explain away their problems so they dont have to put work into adjusting their behavior. they have sound logic and ideas and can be that friend that you make a meaningful glance to across the room when the person you’re talking to is full of shit. nothing phases these people. until something does. then all hell breaks loose and they are insane.

Gemini: (i dont know many so im sorry if this is an unfair bias) out of all the ones I’ve known, they’ve all sucked. they manipulate and lie to get what they want from people. usually control. every picture on their facebook page is of themselves. they think they’re really talented and special when really they’re just a methhead trying to pick up underage girls with their guitar at a party they weren’t invited to.

Cancer: they’re all super sweet honestly. prone to being down on themselves and making their poor self esteem painfully obvious. they can get defensive and close themselves off even though you really just wanna hug them. tend to make poor relationship choices though they usually dont figure that out til later. really just fun to be around and drink half a bottle of tequila with. you can really tell them anything and they won’t judge you. a wholesome bean.

Leo: the person who cuts into a conversation because you haven’t said their name in five minutes. these are a bit of a mixed bag. the ones who dont have any control of their ego are unbearable: naiive, arrogant, selfish, self centered, etc. but the ones who are aware of their own egos are typically nihilists who like really weird anime and rip on themselves to make them laugh. the self aware ones have this “dead inside” air to them but not in a depressing gloomy way just in a confident “life is meaningless so fuck it” way. also I’ve never met a female leo who wasn’t gay so theres that masculine sign bringin the gay.

Virgo: they overanalyze too much and it makes them anxiety ridden but they dont do anything about it. they can be critical, but trust me they criticize themselves the most. they can be pretty blunt, and its a good trait only about half the time. they are secretly very emotional though most will never know that. they are dying inside but are super good at faking it and turning it into a joke. range from being overbearing to overly detached in about half a second. people don’t really perceive them the way they should in both directions good and bad. they stick to their ways but not in an aquarius or taurus way, but more of a “I am at a loss I dont know what else to do” way. typically very understanding and kind but not at first. it takes time to get through that prickly cynical exterior. they’re moody and typically get way too caught up and drown in tragedies. if something bad happens they never forget and they let it follow them to their grave. they’re the kind of person where you can lay on the hood of their car at night listening to beach house talking about how cool space is. (true story)

Libra: another 50/50. they both make me the angriest most miserable person on earth and also happy to the max. they love passionately when they’re actually in love but are prone to cheaty behavior which they never address. They get caught up in what people think of them without realizing it and it makes them act irrationally. they have a habit of trying to get someones attention or respect by covering up their true selves and adopting all the interests and hobbies of the person they admire, basically a chameleon. this makes them seem fake. i wish they would just embrace who they are and be themselves because literally everyone on earth would prefer that. some, usually the men, can be extremely arrogant and think they’re the greatest thing ever at everything with no evidence. they can be incredibly insecure and have all sorts of weird ways of covering it up. can be manipulative. very flirtatious which is great if you’re interested in one and really not great while you’re dating them. don’t really understand the concept of emotional cheating, probably because they do it so much and dont want to look at themselves as cheaters but they are. if you find a loyal self aware libra with integrity and self respect though, my god they could rule the world through their ability for kindness and love.

Scorpio: I can be good friends with them but dating them is always a poor choice. they can be pretty oblivious and a lot of them get caught up in trying to look cool. its not because they care what people think its for some weird unknown self serving reason. these people can surprise you in all kinds of ways. because they keep themselves pretty low profile you never really know what they’re capable of. they’re unpredictable that way. they are pretty slutty in frivolous relationships, but once they commit they’re pretty attached. almost to an unhealthy degree. like they could get beat up, cheated on and abandoned by their partner and still love them (true story. like 3 of them). honestly though, usually just dorky memelords who wanna argue with you about politics and music using alien conspiracies as supporting evidence.

Sagittarius: oh you fiery eyed beauties. the independent ones are the best ones. they can talk all kinds of shit and not give a fuck better than anyone and its amazing so long as you’re not on the receiving end of it. the lazier ones are usually more clingy and unsure of themselves and usually use that fiery energy on their loved ones and themselves which isnt as fun. they are the greatest best friends. they know exactly what to say and when and they are the type of person where if you tell them you got cheated on they’ll go find the bastard and light their car on fire. essentially, a punk rock sagittarius can’t be topped by anyone. just stay away from the alcohol because you are so prone to being an alcoholic like please stop we love you.

Capricorn: usually very sweet. like to the point where you wonder if they’re “okay.” they will put up with some ridiculous shit from people. if you need emotional support though ask a capricorn because they will be there. usually like to keep in charge of themselves and accomplish their goals in their own kind of strange ways. usually neat and clean and smell good. they’ll buy you pizza and not ask to pay it back. if you upset one enough to leave your life then you’ve fucked up big time because they will put up with just about anything.they are precious keep them close and protected. I only met one i didnt like and they literally ended up the person i dislike most out of the whole human race that I’ve met. so i guess this means they’re just as capable of being complete asswipes as they are being squishy marshmallows.

Source: nanothestrange

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sciencespies · 4 years

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What the Rhythm of a Maned Wolf's Heart Reveals

https://sciencespies.com/nature/what-the-rhythm-of-a-maned-wolfs-heart-reveals/

What the Rhythm of a Maned Wolf's Heart Reveals

Smithsonian Voices National Zoo

What the Rhythm of a Maned Wolf’s Heart Reveals

September 8th, 2020, 10:09AM / BY

Ashley Goetz

(Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute)

Spindly legs and thick, red fur have earned them the nickname “foxes on stilts,” but maned wolves are neither fox nor wolf. These charismatic canids are a unique species (the only members of the genus Chrysocyon) and are found solely in South America’s savannas, where Brazilian researcher Rosana Nogueira de Moraes has studied them for nearly 15 years.

In 2015, Moraes came across a study of wild black bears that used heart sensors to reveal what observation couldn’t — that the bears had a hidden stress response to drones flying overhead. She wondered what the same technology might reveal about maned wolves. Two years later, she helped launch the Rhythm of Life Project, a maned wolf heart rate monitoring study at the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute. Moraes shares the latest on the Rhythm of Life Project and what researchers have learned.

Why is it important to protect maned wolves?

Maned wolves are a “keystone” species because they provide critical ecosystem services. They keep pest populations under control by hunting small rodents, and they help disperse the seeds of native plants. Maned wolf poop can be full of the seeds of a tomato-like wild fruit that they love to eat. The fruit, called the wolf apple, is even named after them. Maned wolves are also great ambassadors for the conservation of the Brazilian Cerrado, one of the most threatened savanna biomes in the world.

What do you hope to learn by monitoring their heart rates?

Maned wolves are very secretive and shy animals, so they are good candidates to help us answer some important questions. How well do animals hide their “emotions?” Is behavior a good indicator of an animal’s internal response? And how does their heart respond to human presence or changes in the environment?

Heart rate is a result of the balance of activity in the autonomic nervous system — the part of the nervous system that automatically controls body functions, like blood flow and digestion. When an animal is excited or stressed, the system increases its heart rate to prepare for a fight-or-flight response. If an animal is calm, its heart beats much slower. So, by tracking heart rate, we can identify if situations have a positive or negative impact.

VIDEO: Maned wolf Hope stops to stretch in her yard, with a relaxed heart rate of 57 beats per minute.

It becomes even more powerful when combined with other tools — like a daily report from animal care staff, a measurement of stress hormones from fecal (poop) samples, or a genetics report on the kind of microorganisms present in a maned wolf’s gut. These tools can inform us about levels of stress, but heart monitors can help us pinpoint the moment when stress occurs and find the cause.

How do you monitor a maned wolf’s heart?

We use heart monitors that were made for humans by Medtronic Inc, who donated the devices used for this project. The monitors weigh only 2.4 grams, and we place them under a maned wolf’s skin, over the heart area. The process is like injecting a dog with a microchip, but because the monitor is larger than a microchip, we need to make a small cut and then close it afterward with stitches. The monitor continuously senses each heartbeat or, more precisely, the electric current that comes from the heart when it beats. It records the average heart rate every 2 minutes and can last up to three years.

The heart rate monitors that we use for our maned wolves are the same monitors used for humans with heart problems. (Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute)

To read the data, we use a special computer and a handheld device that connects with the heart monitor via radio. The monitors are also equipped with a remote transmission system that can send data to a computer whenever a maned wolf rests near one of our “antennas,” which are set up near their dens.

How many maned wolves are you monitoring?

We care for 13 maned wolves at SCBI, and so far, we have monitored six of them — three males and three females. This is the first study of its kind for maned wolves, and we’ve collected more than 2.5 million points of heart rate data! Heart rates increased in response to people, restraint, loud noises (like lawn mowers) and social interactions with other wolves. Often, heart rates spiked in response to a negative experience, like being startled by the presence of a neighboring wolf in the middle of the night. They also increased when an animal was positively excited, like when a couple approached each other during the breeding season.

VIDEO: Maned wolf Caido reacted to a neighboring wolf barking in the middle of the night, and his heart rate spiked to 118 beats per minute.

How can you tell if stress is positive or negative?

A good example in humans would be the body response of two different people riding a roller coaster. While one person could be very excited, the other could be extremely scared, or even sick, during the ride. Both people might have similar spikes in heart rate, but the stress would only be positive for the person with positive emotions. Since maned wolves can’t tell us how they feel, we use their behaviors, hormone measurements, and the magnitude of their heart rate increases to tell us when their stress is positive or negative. Some wolves like the presence of a familiar human and get excited when that person visits. We call that positive stress. Others might show a similar heart rate but a totally different behavior, such as avoiding the visitor, which is negative stress.

Has anything that you have learned so far surprised you?

I was fascinated by the wide range of heart rates, and the extremes that the maned wolf’s heart can reach. The heart rate ranges we found were very different from what was previously known. When maned wolves are asleep or resting, their heart rates can drop below 30 beats per minute. But they can have a 10-fold increase, reaching up to 330 beats per minute, when they are stressed. Those extremes normally last for just a few seconds.

I’m also amazed and genuinely happy to see how technology can help us learn so much about ourselves and about animals. The footage that we capture with our trail cameras at SCBI can be inspiring, enjoyable and even poetic at times. So, it’s fascinating to also capture what is happening inside an animal while they freely move and live their lives.

For example, we have videos of a maned wolf couple fighting across the fence when they were first introduced for the breeding season. In later images, the same pair is very playful and moving around together, as if “in love.” And the best part is that the heart monitors were capturing the changes in heart rate for all those moments!

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VIDEO: Maned wolves Echo and Layla play together in their habitat at SCBI. In this moment, Echo’s heart rate was around 143 beats per minute, and Layla’s was about 136. They were positively excited.

How has heart rate monitoring helped support the care of maned wolves at SCBI?

Maned wolves are solitary animals, so living as a family group (parents and pups) might be stressful depending on the group’s size and how long they are together. Heart rate monitoring helped us identify that one of our male wolves was stressed while living with a female and their four pups — and confirmed that moving him to a new area solved the problem. We can also work with animal care staff to test if maned wolves respond positively to novel forms of enrichment.

VIDEO: Enrichment takes many forms. Sometimes, it’s a simple pile of leaves to pounce in. Maned wolf Fin’s heart rate increased to 158 beats per minute as he played with leaves and a stick in his yard one night.

The core of this project is the heart. As humans, we can understand that heart rate tells us a lot about our emotions and how we feel in each life situation. Since we don’t speak the “language” of animals, we need projects like this to better understand how they perceive their environments, so we can use that information to help them thrive.

How can this data support the conservation of maned wolves in the wild?

Only 3% of the natural habitat available for maned wolves in Brazil is inside protected areas. That means animals are also living in areas where encounters with humans, vehicles and farming machinery are common — and stress levels are higher. When sugar cane fields are harvested, for example, wolves can lose all their vegetation cover and food resources in less than 24 hours.

Having objective measurements of stress levels, and an understanding of where and how wolves move, could help us and land owners think about managing the land in ways that are more beneficial to wildlife. Our main goal is to become experts in the use of this technology, so we can apply it to the conservation of maned wolves and other endangered species in the wild. Studying the animals at SCBI has provided us with the skills we need, as well as the opportunity to overcome any obstacles in a controlled and safe environment.

What’s next for the Rhythm of Life Project?

This project is an excellent example of how much we can accomplish when we work as a team. We are physiologists, ecologists, biologists, veterinarians, animal care staff, students, donors, partners and more, all coming together to make this work possible. After a successful start, we’re expanding our scientific research at SCBI to other species, including eight scimitar-horned oryx. We proved that heart monitors can be safely used in maned wolves, and generated valuable information to compare with wild wolves. In 2021, we plan to start a field study with maned wolves in Brazil.

The Rhythm of Life Project was made possible with generous support from Medtronic.

Ashley Goetz is a web content writer at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute, where she translates animal care research and conservation science into compelling stories. Ashley earned a bachelor’s degree in public communication with a minor in marine biology from American University. When she isn’t at the Zoo, she spends her time traveling, crocheting and watching reruns of “Parks and Recreation” with her two cats.