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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.20}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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It was a week before Christmas break, on a snowy Friday evening, when Robin and Snape found themselves sitting at one of the tables in the lab yet again, waiting patiently while their newest project simmered quietly in a small cauldron in front of them. Eventually the draught would turn in colour, going from a dull yellowish brown to a brilliant ruby red, but until then there was nothing to do but chat while they had their usual evening coffee.

After the firewhisky endeavour in late October, most of November and December had gone by remarkably unspectacularly, and while they had spent some more evenings in Snape's room throughout that time, mainly because of the music that had stayed in his room in form of Robin's old record player, Robin hadn't ever dared to even consider staying over again. Not that she wouldn't have wanted to –gods, she would give about anything even just to sleep in that cloud of a bed again– but she was rather certain that she couldn't spend another night in his space without doing something stupid. Especially when he was starting to become less opposed to this innocent physical closeness, to her touch and to touching her in return, she was better off sparing herself the temptation of crossing lines she shouldn't even come close to. They had already gotten so far, and she couldn't jeopardize that for a ridiculous spurt of nightly braveness. So it was their normal routine of staying up until ungodly hours to work and talk and simply enjoy each other's company that brightened her days no matter what.

"Your hair smells like pineapple again." Snape remarked in a dramatic sigh, which effectively drew Robin out of her head again.

"Yeah, well, I forgot my shampoo and had to steal from Cas once more." She shrugged with a humoured huff, then took a long sip of her cooled down coffee and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you honestly detest pineapple that much?"

"Yes. They smell too sweet for how acidic they are."

"But I know for a fact that you like lemons, and those are even more acidic."

"I do like lemons, yes."

"Funny."

"For someone who cannot tell lemons and limes apart it certainly must be, yes."

Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but the smile on her lips gave away her true sentiments. He honestly would never let her live that down… and it had been years! That man had a memory better than a photo album or an audio recorder, and she found herself stuck between pride, envy and admiration. The middle would do.

"Next time I'll use Jorien's coconut body wash too, so that you get stuck with me smelling like a freaking piña colada, if you'd prefer that." She teased him right back with a small smirk, but then couldn't help laughing at his horrified expression. "Don't worry, I for my part have no intention of smelling like a fruity cocktail. Would be the cherry on top of everything, eh?"

"Funny." Now it was Snape who rolled his eyes, using his flattest and most indifferent tone, and Robin had to laugh even more. Especially when he finally couldn't help the smirk on his lips any longer either.

"Speaking of drinks, isn't-..." Robin was cut off by a loud knock, which made both her and Snape frown at each other simultaneously, then at the door. It was past one o'clock in the morning; who the hell would dare bothering them at this time?! With every intention to find an answer to that question, it was Robin who jumped off her chair and skipped to the door this time around, with Snape just a few steps behind her.

When she opened up, she was greeted by the kind and absolutely unsurprised face of none other than Professor McGonagall. Robin's eyebrows rose for a second, but she didn't forget her manners over her surprise. "Good evening, Professor. Is everything alright?"

"Good evening indeed, Miss Mitchell. Severus…" McGonagall gave both of them a nod and a smile, looking from one to the other as Snape came to stand so close behind Robin that she could feel his warmth on her back, as well as the gentle brush of his robes whenever he took a breath. It took quite a bit of effort on her part to keep focusing on McGonagall as she spoke on, clearly addressing Snape now. "I'm afraid I have news you won't like to hear."

"What happened?" Snape's voice was the perfect disdainful indifference once more, and Robin had no doubt that his expression was made to match.

"Pomona received an urgent owl an hour ago and henceforth has personal matters to attend to all weekend, which means she will not be able to see to the mandatory dancing instructions of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students tomorrow morning, and seeing as Filius isn't an option, by his own choice may I add, you're going to have to attend to half of the students, Severus." McGonagall stated in one long breath, with a pointed expression that left no room for arguments. Behind Robin's back, Snape held his breath for a second, which she only could tell by the lacking brush of fabric against her jumper.

"Certainly." He finally drawled, dutiful as much as disdainful. It wasn't hard to guess his thoughts on the matter, especially after he had successfully avoided giving this dance class for the past years. "I shall instruct the Slytherins myself, and whichever half of Pomona's students you wish to… impose on me."

"The Ravenclaws should be a better fit for you, I believe." The transfiguration professor was quick to reply. "Would you mind having the time between breakfast and lunch, in the great hall? I myself would prefer the timeframe from lunch until dinner."

"I am not partial to any time."

"It's settled then. You'll teach the Slytherins and Ravenclaws after breakfast." McGonagall smiled almost mischievously, or at least in a decent amount of amusement. "I believe a standard waltz shouldn't be a problem to you, after demonstrating it quite so nicely with Miss Mitchell at last year's ball."

Snape didn't reply, but Robin could feel him glaring at McGonagall over her shoulder. Honestly, she couldn't even blame him for being annoyed by the turn of events. This was probably the last thing he had expected to be doing on this Saturday, especially since they had previously made different plans. Looks like those would have to wait yet again.

"Anyway, I don't want to hold you two up any longer than necessary." McGonagall finally spoke on when nobody replied to her previous statement. "What is it you are doing at this time of night anyway?"

"Working." Both Robin and Snape replied in unison, in the same evading neutrality, and the woman in front of them couldn't help smiling in sincere amusement at their mannerisms.

"I see." She said, and tried to glance past Snape into the lab, only to give up after a half-hearted attempt. "I was merely being curious; I unfortunately have to conduct most of my experiments alone these days."

"If you find yourself looking for an assistant, I can only recommend you to ask Jorien Blakeley. She would be delighted, and I know for a fact that she has a remarkably strong interest in transfiguration." Robin couldn't help the blurb of words from escaping, but she also didn't quite regret it. "And as far as I'm aware, she has been getting fairly high grades as well."

McGonagall looked surprised at the suggestion, then she frowned to herself for a moment and finally smiled at Robin again as she went to reply. "Miss Blakeley really does have a talent for the subject, however I wasn't aware that she would take interest in furthering her knowledge beyond the classroom topics. Nor that she would enjoy having to spend more time with me than necessary."

"Believe me, she does. Very much so even. But she admires you too much to bother you with questions she believes to be too insignificant. Actually, she believes herself to be too insignificant. I try to tutor her as much as possible, but I am by far not the most proficient in the subject, nor can I teach her as much as she would want to learn."

"I certainly will consider speaking to the girl about assisting me then. Thank you, Miss Mitchell." McGonagall said in prevailing mild amusement, but definitely also appreciation, and then gave both Snape and Robin another nod. "Anyway, goodnight for now. I will see you both tomorrow."

As the professor left, Robin closed the door once again and let out a long breath while she followed Snape back to their stools. Perhaps McGonagall would ask Jorien for her assistance indeed, and that might just take some work off Robin's hands if the girl would get her answers from someone more adept in the subject.

"Funny." Snape said after a moment, as he gave Robin a teasing smirk. "You never admired me enough to spare me from your questions."

Robin gave him an immediate glare, but then also a smirk in return. "No, I admired you enough to know that you were the only one who could keep up with my questions in the first place."

"You've always been by far brighter than anyone around you." His smirk widened, and Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly to act over the warmth spreading in her chest and on her cheeks. "Logically, nobody but me could handle you even if you came with instructions."

"Hey!" She couldn't help laughing again at last, and nudged him in the shoulder before she slumped down in her seat. "I don't even know if that last part was supposed to be a compliment or an insult."

"That would be for you to decide."

Indeed, Robin decided on taking it as a compliment. If he thought that his intellect had somewhat found a match in her, she honestly could only feel flattered, brilliant as he was. Besides, he had long stopped insulting her for anything more than a tease in the first place… so a compliment it was. And honestly, Robin absolutely didn't mind that he was the only one who was able to handle her, and she even wholeheartedly agreed with that assessment. But the thought of handling things brought her on to a different topic of thought in an instant, and she frowned to herself for a second.

"I guess our plans for tomorrow are cancelled now, aren't they?" She stated more than asked, and the amusement faded off her face as it vanished from his as well. "I mean, we'll never make it all the way around the black lake between lunch and dinner, especially not in this snow. It'll be too dark to see our own feet even before we have walked half the distance if we start in the afternoon."

"Unfortunately." He sighed, then his face set in a scowl. "Teaching fifty fourth years how to dance certainly is the last thing I expected to do tomorrow."

For a second Robin had to snort at the confirmation of her previous assumption, in almost the same words even, but it was a bitter amusement and it confused Snape more than it cheered either of them up, so her face set back into a grim expression before long . "Too bad Sprout had urgent matters to attend to right on this weekend, out of an entire year to choose from."

"I was starting to believe I had once and for all gotten out of giving dancing lessons… The previous years I wasn't even asked to."

"I luckily only had to suffer through it once, during fifth year. Remember that? I danced with this redhead and everyone made a big deal out of it."

"How could I forget?" Snape huffed, rolling his eyes. "Minerva kept going on and on afterwards about how neat it would be to… encourage that non-existent connection she however believed to see between you and the Weasley boy."

Robin was the one rolling her eyes now, with an indignant scoff to accompany the expression. "Honestly, even back then I was far closer to you than to that boy, or to anyone at all really. You knew that, I even told you about it!"

"That you did." He confirmed, then lost some of the annoyance as he let out a quiet sigh. "I believe it isn't of relevance anymore, Minerva has long since come to her senses as has everyone else who attempted to conspire on the issue. But other than that, I would still like to hear more about your dancing lesson."

"Ah, yes…" Robin said, as the realization hit her that he probably hadn't received any such lessons during his time as a student nor gotten to witness the ones given in the previous years. "Well, uh, it wasn't spectacular actually. In the beginning there was a quick explanation about the whys and hows of dancing, and then McGonagall forced some seventh year boy to demonstrate the dance with her. After that we just had to pick a partner and practiced for like… two hours perhaps. A bit longer maybe. That's it."

"I assume Minerva corrected your errors while you practiced?"

"I'm not too bad at dancing, so she didn't concern herself much with me, but others' mistakes she did correct relentlessly from what I could tell."

"Good. I can do that."

"I think it'll actually be easier for you than it was for her." Robin shrugged at her own thought. "You shouldn't have the problem of people slacking off and fooling around. They're far too scared of you to cause any mayhem or refuse your orders. Easy."

The corner of his lips quirked up for a second, but then set back into a grim line. "I wouldn't call forcing some dunderhead to demonstrate the dance with me particularly 'easy'. Students are far less repelled by Minerva, which makes the entire endeavour less of a sickening prospect for her in return."

Either it was his self-deprecating words or the thought of him dancing with someone else that made Robin feel sour in an instant, but either way she had to swallow the lump in her throat down quite forcefully before she replied. "I… You… uh, I understand how dreadful it must seem to you to dance with someone. But I'm sure whoever you choose will be less repelled by it than you are, if that helps anything."

"I have no intention to force anyone to dance with me at all."

"Yes, no, but… I mean, since it's the fourth years we're speaking of anyway, I'm sure you could ask Jorien. She's quite indifferent to most people; she wouldn't care if she was dancing with you or with someone else. And if I ask her to do it, she will. Especially after I just advertised her to McGonagall."

"Actually, I was going to ask you." He said, surprisingly straightforward and direct in his approach of the topic. "For the favour of helping me with the entire lesson. It would be to the best advantage of everyone if the demonstration was nothing short of perfect, and an additional pair of eyes will certainly be beneficial for the students' practice afterwards as well."

A weight lifted off Robin's heart in an instant, and she had to smile at his through and through logical and desperately appropriate reasons for asking her assistance. "Of course I will help you. Anytime, with anything. You know that. And having someone to explain the female part will probably be good too."

"Likely. To be honest however, while those are all perfectly good reasons to ask you to do this with me, they aren't truly my measure. I rather know your presence is going to make the entire ordeal a lot more bearable, as it always does. And in the end, I would simply hate to dance with anyone but you, no matter the circumstances." He added after a moment, again in a shocking easy sincerity that almost had Robin's heart leaping out of her chest.

Her smile broadened until it was allconsuming in its radiance, like all those times when she failed to suppress the stupid hope that lived in every shadow of her mind these days. No. He would hate dancing with anyone else because Robin was the only person he found bearable to touch. Not because of any other reason. Who wouldn't choose a friend over a stranger? Her smile fell, her heart sank, and she couldn't help the hurt from showing in her eyes at least.

"You really should stop that, you know…" She finally said in a sad chuckle that was heartbreaking even to her own ears.

"What?" Snape asked in return, and his expression fell in accordance with Robin's. He looked almost taken aback, confused at least, about whatever he had obviously done wrong this time and Robin felt even worse for speaking up at all. She didn't dare to answer. So he asked again. "Stop what?"

"Forcing this ridiculous hope onto me." She said before she knew, with a sad smile and a gaze that dug souldeep into his. "Every time you say things like that, it forces a little more hope to seep through the cracks in my walls, and I need you to stop. I don't want to hope, I can't bear it… Hope is dangerous. It's torturing me."

Her words seemed to confuse him even more, and while he frowned deeply at her, the subtle hurt in his own eyes was undeniable. He wanted to understand what he had done wrong… she knew. But he hadn't done anything wrong at all, nothing but being who he was. And being who he was, he wouldn't let go that easily. "Hope for what, Robin? You have to be a bit more precise if I am to understand. And I would very much like to."

The sight, the thought almost broke Robin entirely, while his blissful oblivion almost made her laugh in return. Oh, how stupid could she be? For the first time he had done absolutely everything right by being completely honest, by trying to talk about an issue, and here she was, doing absolutely everything wrong in return. It wasn't his fault that she loved him too much, and it wasn't his fault that she couldn't handle her own stupid emotions.

"Nevermind." She sighed finally, tearing her eyes away from his to look down at her empty coffee mug on the table. "I'm just being stupid because my brain is too tired to function. You know me… I talk nonsense sometimes when I'm exhausted. If it wasn't for the stupid potion that just refuses to change colour, I'd be going straight to bed."

"Actually, it changed colour twenty minutes ago and I put a stasis on it to continue the work tomorrow afternoon."

Robin groaned in frustration and closed her eyes before hiding her face in her hands. "See! I didn't even notice! Great friend you have in me… and an even worse colleague. I'm such a failure…"

For a moment it was silent in the lab, and while Robin just hoped that she hadn't entirely screwed things up, she could practically hear his mind working at light speed. Gods, he had only said he quite liked to dance with her… and she'd gone on to make a scene of it. Great. So much for being better.

"To tell you the truth, I haven't the remotest idea what to do in a moment like this. What to say or do that would make things better for you and not worse. But I assume… perhaps this is the kind of situation where an embrace might prove helpful?" He finally spoke up, reluctantly and more than a little uncertain about his assessment of the situation, but without a hint of discomfort or doubt about the underlying offer he was making. Robin's hands dropped from her face in an instant, and before she knew, her eyes were filling with tears of adoration and exhaustion and overwhelm. His brows furrowed in return, his face a careful layer of neutrality.

Robin wanted to reply, wanted to say how damn right he was in that assumption, wanted to assure him that she wasn't being so bloody emotional because of anything he had done wrong, but because of all the things he was doing right. But all she could do was to nod, and then push herself off her stool to cross the space between them. Snape for his part stayed perched on the edge of his seat when Robin wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he pulled her flush against him when his arms circled her waist in return. They were almost the same height like this, or at least closer to it, which allowed Robin to hide her face in the soft fabric in the crook of his neck when her tears finally started spilling over. She didn't even know why exactly she was being so bloody stupid right now, so ridiculous and pathetic and weird… Her almost-slip of emotions hadn't backlashed. Her secret was still safe. Their experimental potion was intact and waiting to be continued. She would get to dance with him tomorrow, and help him with a class. She even was wrapped up in the most comforting hug ever at the moment, if that alone wasn't enough reason to be happy! Everything was bloody perfect. And yet, when he ever so subtly started playing with the tips of her hair that cascaded down her back, a strangled sob escaped her lips and he stopped in an instant.

"No, please…" She sniffed before she could think better of it. His hands in her hair had felt so nice… a hint of a sign that he enjoyed their closeness as well. "Please keep doing that."

It took a few seconds before he complied, but once he did, Robin sighed under her breath, and she was almost sure that she felt him smile against her shoulder in return. True or not, the idea sufficed to send a shiver down her spine, and finally she found herself able to relax. The tension left her body like a burn washed away by the sweet relief of a cooling water, and while she sunk deeper into the warm comfort of another perfect embrace, her spiralling emotions became subject to her will once more. It really was alright… they were alright.

"I'm really looking forward to dancing with you tomorrow." Robin finally said, in a calm tone and with a calm mind once again. He deserved to know that much at least, and it was a perfectly appropriate thing to say. "The circumstances… nah, but as long as we're suffering through it together, it will be alright."

"I take it then that an embrace really does make you feel better. I shall have to remember." He replied in amusement, and while that did make Robin smile, she also wasn't fooled over the astonishment he tried to hide behind it. Indeed, it was rather sad to think that he wouldn't know how comforting the embrace of a beloved person could be. Or perhaps he simply doubted that his embrace would have this effect on her. Either way, Robin made a mental note to make him understand and believe both in the nearer future.

"You shall indeed, I do feel a lot better. Always, with you." She sighed softly and closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of his arms around her now that she could focus on it at last. "Still am beyond tired though."

"Perhaps you should go to bed. Tomorrow certainly will be exhausting enough with all the dunderheads stumbling through the room and tripping over their own two feet."

"We should totally play bullshit bingo with the idiotic things they might say or do…" Robin chuckled to herself and absentmindedly traced the seams of his robes she could reach with her fingertips. "That might just make the entire ordeal more amusing. For us, at least."

"How… temptingly unprofessional." He drawled in return, and the deep tone of his voice being so delightfully juxtaposed by his words made Robin snicker even more. "We most definitely should play indeed."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you." She yawned, and somehow it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her legs from giving out beneath her, now that her entire body was relaxing and being held up by his. "And I would have to say that I love it."

Her words made Snape chuckle, which was a sound so exquisite in its low rumbling depths that it sent new waves of shivers all over Robin's body, which left goosebumps in their wake in return. Bloody hell, he most definitely could feel the effects he had on her now… But at least he was kind or indifferent enough not to comment on it. She could always blame it on being cold or tired or something of that sort, should the necessity arise.

"You certainly have the strongest influence on me, and I daresay you are the only one I allow myself to be affected by in the first place."

"Well, if I'm the only one, being the strongest is hardly an accomplishment. And I would be the strongest and the weakest at the same time, you know…"

"Will you just take a compliment when I accidentally give you one for once, you insufferable little creature?"

"I can try." Robin grinned at his half humoured and half feignedly annoyed tone. "Even though I technically wouldn't call 'insufferable little creature' a compliment."

"But I would." Snape returned, and his smirk didn't need to be seen to make its way straight to Robin's heart, making it soar. "You are indeed quite tiny, as well as considerably different from any average humanness, and you most definitely are insufferable."

"Thanks…" She snorted, then stifled another yawn and wondered for a moment what would happen if she just fell asleep right in this spot; she was hardly supporting her own weight anymore anyway. Chances were high he'd wake her right back up or she'd cause him trouble if he tried not to, which wouldn't be much of a gain in either direction, and thus she banned the idea into the back of her mind.

"It seems like that was quite a weak attempt at humour on my end, going by your response. My apologies."

"No, I'm sorry, it really was funny! I'm just too tired to appreciate it properly."

"I still stand by my suggestion that you should go to bed. Teaching is more exhausting than one would assume, especially if it involves watching fifty students at once."

"You're right… I know."

That seemed to be the cue for both of them to ever-reluctantly let go of each other in the same silent agreement as always, and for Robin to sigh softly in disappointment at the loss of his delectable warmth and comfort in return. Yet, she didn't let any of it seep into her expression as she went to pick up her backpack from the other table and only turned back to Snape when she halted at the door before letting herself out.

"I really am looking forward to tomorrow." She said once again even though she'd told him already, but she couldn't help it. The excitement was there and it was strong, and he deserved to know. "I miss dancing with you."

He gave her one of his rare smiles in return, a genuine one that wasn't teasing or humoured but simply content and perhaps just a little excited as well. "This time I would like to ask you to dance though, if you will let me."

"Well, then you simply will have to be faster than me, won't you?" Robin smirked at him, wiggling her eyebrows for a second, and then had to laugh at her own ridiculous silliness. It really was too late for her own good. "Goodnight, Severus."

"Until tomorrow." He replied, and when Robin stepped out into the hallway with a huge smile lingering on her face, she couldn't help but think that perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that their plans for tomorrow had been changed. Maybe she would have to thank Sprout for being absent at some point.

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

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The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Five:Sensory Integration 1

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A Friday full of teasing for Shane ends in a steak dinner with a blue-eyed beefcake. If you don’t finish this chapter hungry for one or the other, if not both, I haven’t done my job! Lol! (For inspo on Sy’s date outfit, think back to that one Men’s Health photoshoot Hen did and just imagine his hair shorter. That’s what I did. lol!)

Click me to catch up on the story and other stuff by Hannah!

Word Count: 4k (This date got away from me! Lol! And it’s only half over!)

Warnings: Mostly this is utter fluffy fluff, but I’m gonna put the following warnings on, anyway. Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, borderline food worship (Shane may have a problem, I definitely do! Lol!) Also, pretty much every Sy fic I’ve read says that his given name is Logan, so...should his given name be used henceforth, that’s what I’m going with because it seems the most cannon and I like it and if it’s good enough for Wolverine...

Author’s Note: So, guys, this is crazy. First off, the reaction and love Sy and Shane’s story has been getting has taken me completely off guard and utterly made my day/week. (I’m serious. Every note makes my heart do a happy dance. A like, a reblog, a comment. It all means the world to me. Thank you for your feedback and for sharing this story.) Second, YOUR FEEDBACK MATTERS TO ME! Because initially, idk what I was thinking. I was going to skim over their first date and like…not write it…and I kept getting notes as I worked on further chapters to the tune of “can’t wait for this date!” and I thought…hmm…well, the date must be written! So, here it is, the first half-ish, of Shane and Sy’s first date. I hope it’s all you were expecting…or at least half of all you were expecting! Lol! More to come in part two of Sens Integ! (BTW, fun fact, these chapter titles are all named after treatments that therapists actually use on their patients sometimes! Lol!)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Friday morning. She was up with the sun. And a bit before, really. Today was the day. Her first date with Sy. She’d taken extra care in the shower, less clumsy, thank God! She shaved her legs because she had chosen to wear a knee-length blue dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves in wrinkle-proof Jersey knit since it would be in her tote bag all day. She was not shaving because she thought anything would happen tonight with Sy. She didn’t think she was ready.

That is, she was ready, but, only physically. Emotionally, mentally, she would need to prepare for him a bit longer before taking him as a lover. She hoped he was on the same page.

He had an appointment in the early afternoon. He greeted her with his warm “Hello, sunshine.” Following it up by telling her how pretty she looked today, causing blush to burn in her cheeks. She’d reciprocated, even though he was in his typical tee and shorts look. It was still true. They got on their usual bikes to warm up for about 15 minutes, and then took to the leg press to try to advance his strengthening.

“I’m really proud of your progress! You wouldn’t have been able to do this much weight two weeks ago!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, we are going to do some drills next. Simple ones, but they aren’t going to be fun for you. I’ve chosen to do them on your last day of the week for a reason. You may be sore. Ice and whatever you take OTC if you must. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen. But try the ice first. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Okay.” He conceded, dejected.

“Stretching afterward.” She promised.

“Okay!” He pepped up. She knew he just loved an excuse to have her hands on him.

Later, as he lay on the mat, sweaty from the exertion of the drills, with her up there with him having to use her whole body to leverage the proper stretch out of his hip flexors, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze. She tried to look anywhere but those sapphire eyes below her. They were too vulnerable. She couldn’t handle that right now. Not here.

“Shane?” Dammit, he was gonna make her.

“Hmm?” She looked down at him, smile meeting smile.

“I just…” he couldn’t seem to get out the words. But she thought she understood what he was feeling.

“I know, Sy. I know.” She gently patted his outer thigh where she had been bracing her hand for the stretch, and let his leg back down, while dismounting the mat, as well.

“Well, that’s about the hour. Any questions before I let you go?”

“Are you as excited for tonight as I am?” He asked. She chuckled. She couldn’t imagine him being more excited than she was!

“Yes! Hehe! But I still kinda meant about therapy, Sy.”

“Oh, right. Are you excited to finish up with your therapy patients at therapy today so I can pick you up from the therapy clinic and take you on our date?”

“Just because you say therapy 20 times doesn’t make it about therapy.” She laughed.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, since I’m here.”

“Shoot.” She encouraged.

He stood and held her face, taking it into a kiss so devastatingly and painfully tender, she could not process what to do next. She was leaning toward fainting. But then tackling him onto the mat again seemed an attractive option. She settled for placing her hands on his waist, ready to control the situation as need arose. But after a brief moment of slight deepening, he broke away, still holding her face in his large strong hands.

“Ahem. That’s a good question. Why don’t I have you a reply later this evening?”

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” He grinned widely, and waved a quiet goodby to her.

She walked to the doorway of the small room to watch him walk out…his gait still uneven from his injury but improving enough that she could tell he once took very…confident strides. She could almost picture it. She sighed, forgetting herself for a moment until Anita came up behind her walking her elderly patient with a gait belt and front wheeled walker.

"Is that a bit of drool on your chin, Shane?" she said quietly, but still startling the younger therapist from her reverie.

"Oh, uh, hey." she checked her chin, absentmindedly, late in getting the joke, and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Nita. Do you need anything?"

"Nope, Gladys and I are just headed to the gym for a few minutes on the NuStep to round out her treatment." Nita grinned at Shane.

"Who was that handsome young man that just left, Shane?" Gladys asked her, as women of her…demographic tended to do.

"He's just one of our patient's Miss Gladys. But I can't tell you his name. It's against the privacy policy." She explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, if I was a few years younger, I'd let ya give him MY name…and my telephone number." she smirked with pride in herself. All three ladies giggled.

"I'm pretty sure he's spoken for, Gladys." Anita broke the news to her randy patient, smirking at her coworker.

"Shame! Well, that's one lucky young lady!" Gladys hobbled on with the walker as Anita cued her not to let the device get too far ahead of her feet. Shane was beet red from the whole interaction. At least she wouldn't have to wear blush tonight.

Her day finally finished, notes done, and final communications sent, the most important (in her opinion, probably not her employer's) message of them all was next. The text to Sy that he could head toward the clinic to pick her up.

She touched up her eye makeup, applied another coat of mascara, and dabbed on some of her favorite lipstick in a deep red that complimented her skin tone. She also spritzed on a bit of her favorite Armani perfume before slipping on her dress and black ballet flats and sliding on a pair of simple hoop earrings. She'd had her hair pulled up all day in a clip, so it should be pleasantly wavy when she took it down…and with a bit of flipping, shaking out, and finger diffusing, it was.

She looked in the mirror. She was ready.

Was she ready? She examined herself in the full length mirror in the empty locker room at the clinic. The dress and the shoes suddenly seemed all wrong, both together and as individual pieces for the occasion. She looked great, it wasn't that…but…was it right for tonight? Should she cancel? Was she being ridiculous? Clearly she was, as she'd already sent the message telling Sy he could come get her. But the closer she got to being ready to go, the less ready she felt. Those butterflies were suddenly clawing at her esophagus, disrupting the bile in her stomach, and threatening to choke off her air supply. They were no longer pleasantly fluttering. She felt like she had a boot against her windpipe.

She was snapped out of the panic attack when she heard her phone go off. A message from Sy.

Your chariot, m'lady. Should I come in and get ya?

She grinned like a lunatic. How could she have considered calling tonight off?

Nay, m'lord, verily the gates be locked. I shall use the rear exit and meet thee around yonder forsooth.

Wow, you ran with that one. *laughing in tears emoji*

I have that tendency. Lol. *monocle wearing emoji*

She grabbed her bags, walked out the back door, and tossed the one that wasn't her purse into her vehicle, which was parked nearby and walked around to the front. He was standing on the sidewalk near that edge of the building.

The sun was just setting, and the light from it hit him so bewitchingly that it took away her breath. Not in the frightening way of the panic attack she'd just had, but in the nice way, like right before you surface from a deep dive and you know the sweet relief of oxygen is imminent. She assessed his ensemble with approval. Black books, sleek dark blue jeans, and a sapphire v-neck polo that even in the low light of near dusk made his blue eyes dance with vibrant intensity against his fading tan. His hair was starting to grow out ever so slightly, but it was still very close cropped. His beard, she could tell, had been finely groomed, combed, and styled. He looked…well, she'd never looked up the word "handsome" in the dictionary, but she imagined it would describe the image before her quite succinctly. And alternatively, Sy's image could be used as an illustration in the reference book, itself.

The best part, though, was the look on his face when he saw her.

She felt like he'd never properly looked at her, perhaps. Maybe he wasn't expecting a dress, or loose hair, or red lips. Or maybe it was a combo of the whole Date Shane package he was seeing before him. As his eyes beheld her, he almost looked confused. As if she was a stand-in. Or maybe an alien. Some body-snatcher. Only he wasn't frightened. She was having a hard time working out his expression as she'd really never seen it before, and particularly, never aimed in her direction. He said one word.

"Wow." It was reverent. Not a whisper. But barely a decibel above.

Again, her cheeks required no artificial pigmentation.

"Hey. You look…you certainly scrub up good, mister." she giggled nervously, feeling immensely awkward at her inability to properly compliment the chiseled image of Adonis before her. His every muscle hugged to perfection by the fabric covering it. How did you even begin to tell such perfection how perfect it was?

"You…Shane, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone look so beautiful." he frowned, as if trying to recall, then giving up with a smile, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment to hug her, hold her as the day faded, breathe her in. She did the same. He was freshly showered and wearing cologne, as he often did, but it rarely hit her so solidly as it did tonight. She loved this scent. Woody, but earthy, with notes of bergamot, a kind of musky scent similar to amber, but more masculine, and something spicy that she loved. The combination exploded like an olfactory fireworks display.

The shirt was an unthinkably soft cotton (blended she thought perhaps with kitten, she could not stop touching it.) and the warmth of him radiated into her as his chest rose and fell over the course of his numerous breaths as they stood there holding each other and enjoying this feast for the senses.

"You ready for supper?" he asked, a faint but distinct rumble from his abdomen indicating that he most certainly was.

"Yes." she smiled up at him as he took her hand in his and led her to his truck. A Ford F150, the same sapphire blue as his shirt and his eyes. She was sensing a pattern, here. It wasn't the newest vehicle, but he had taken immaculate care of it. She felt shame for her own treatment of her Explorer, Bessie, which often functioned as storage shed, trash can, and sometimes, hotel, when she felt like a road trip on a shoestring budget. He walked her to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and helped her in, as the truck sat a bit higher than what she was used to.

"So, I have us a table saved at this great steakhouse just down the road. And then, it's supposed to be a nice night, I thought we could take a walk by the lake?"

It sounded perfect to her. Quiet and simple.

"Amazing. As long as your knee is up for a walk?"

"I've got all weekend to rest before getting tortured again." he smirked at her as he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and on the main road toward the interstate. "B'sides, who better to have with me if I start hurtin' than my PT?"

The emphasis he placed on the possessive pronoun, claiming her as HIS PT sent a delighted shiver through her that she blamed on the AC, which he promptly turned down.

He had his Spotify shuffling Kings of Leon at a low volume as they conversed lightly and pleasantly. Since it was an earlier model, even well equipped as it was, it wasn't quite ready for auxiliary or Bluetooth sound, so he'd bought one of those radio receivers that tune into an unused frequency and connect to your phone or iPod. She'd retrofitted her 2003 Ford Explorer in a similar fashion.

They were both caught a bit off guard when "Sex on Fire" came on, and tried valiantly to keep talking. But it was hard to hear anything but those lyrics. Singing of exhibitionism and dangerous sex acts that were definitely moving violations…and simply the sex being on fire. She was thankful, for once, that this song that she'd always found catchy without paying much attention to the actual lyrics, was now fading into the night as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She remembered to wait for him to get the door for her, even though it had been ages since she'd been on a date or had any kind of romance whatsoever. He helped her down from her perch, giving her a gentlemanly moment to adjust her skirt before taking her hand and leading her into the building.

He opened the door and led her in by that lumbar lordosis that made everyone tremble and swoon. She was no exception just because she knew that part of your back was not actually called "the small" and she got perturbed when she heard it referred to as such.

"Welcome to Mark's, how can we help you?" the host greeted warmly.

"Reservation for Syverson." Sy piped up. She was used to being the voice in these situations. She was thankful not to have to for once. It was a small thing, but it was still nice.

"Right this way, folks." he grabbed two large menus, a mid sized one, and a small one, and led them to a cozy but still spacious two-top in a quiet corner of the dining area. The warm light was low and ambient, and there were real kerosene lamps on the tables, which she loved. It had the rustic ambiance of a cabin with all the refinement of any four+ star restaurant she'd ever been to. Not that she'd been to many.

"Here you are, the table you requested, and your menus. Have a look at them, and Katie will be out soon to answer questions and take your orders."

As he walked away, Sy pulled her chair out for her, and aided her sitting. His gentility was so refreshing to her, because it was so sincere and kind, and in no way oppressive or domineering, as some men seemed to use such gestures. Wielding them like a club rather than a feather. She was just used to seeing a certain side of him, teasing and silly as he was in therapy that this side of Captain Syverson, or as she may end up calling him one day, Logan, his given first name, if it pleased him, had taken her off guard.

"Nice place." she approved, looking around at he exposed beams of the ceiling and the iron and copper chandeliers and light fixtures on the wall. She also noticed quite curiously a copy of American Gothic by Grant Wood on one wall and The Kiss by Gustav Klimt on another. Such different styles to be displayed in one room. She really liked it though.

"It's one of my favorites. I try to come in every couple weeks or so." The fact that he liked steak on the regular was definitely a point in his favor. She loved it but rarely went out for it on her own. Eating out alone wasn't so bad, but it was hard to enjoy a steak dinner by one's self.

"What's your favorite cut?"

"Oh, I've tried most of them, and you can't go wrong." He assured her.

They had a crazy selection. Ribeyes, filets, sirloins, prime rib, all seasoned, smoked, topped and wrapped in every way you could imagine…it was like staring at the Netflix menu of steak. And much like she tended to do with Netflix, she relied on a classic favorite. After all, who goes for an obscure choice their first time at a new steak house?

"I'm keeping it simple and going for their prime rib and a baked potato."

"Ah, that's a perfect choice. We're getting some of their lobster mac and cheese to start, though. Unless you're allergic or something?" he added the disclaimer when he saw her eyes widen.

"Not at all, that sounds…"she was thinking "sexual," but decided instead on "heavenly."

Soon, Katie, a peppy, slender young redhead in black jeans she'd been poured into and a white T-shirt she had outgrown some time ago, descended upon their table with gusto.

"Howdy, I'm Katie and I get to take care of you fine folks this evening. What drinks and appetizers can I start y'all off with?"

Sy looked at Shane to prompt her to start.

"Sweet tea?" she half stated, half inquired. Katie nodded and jotted.

"Sure thing! Sir?" she thought her eyes sparkled when she looked at Sy…she couldn't blame her. But…she thought she could take her if she tried anything. She was certain there was a very sharp knife in the black napkin set-up at her right hand.

"Same for me, Katie. And we are also gonna need an order of your lobster mac to start and a bottle of your house cab."

"Fantastic. I'll be right back with the teas and wine after I put in for the lobster mac for ya, and then I'll take your meal order." she smiled brightly. Sy looked at Shane, though, as he replied "Wonderful."

~~~~~~~

Her instincts about the lobster mac and cheese had been spot on. She couldn’t contain her yummy noises of enjoyment which amused Sy to no end. She couldn’t imagine the steak any better.

About that, she had been completely wrong. It was so succulent, tender, and flavorful, she debated on whether or not the provided au jus and horseradish were even needed. They were also too good to resist, though.

Her potato, twice baked to the perfect tenderness had a salt brined skin, and a garlicky butter that just sung with the sour cream and chives. She was in food heaven, and even if that meant she was dead, it was fine.

He’d ordered the same entrée as she had, but took his baked potato…a bit differently.

“You don’t like sour cream?” She asked, nonplussed.

“Nah, I mean, I can eat it, but…it feels weird in my mouth. I prefer the au jus and butter, instead. It’s much more tasty.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed.

“You’re welcome to try mine when I get it all doctored you how I like it!”

She did, right from his fork. And he was right about it being so flavorful, but she preferred the mild, creamier texture of her own side with the savory notes of her steak.

They ate and enjoyed each other’s company and conversation.

“Ya know, Sy, I totally had you pegged as a beer man, instead of a wine guy.” She said, as she brought her own glass of the deep red liquid to her mouth and nose, inhaling the bouquet before she took her sip.

“Normally, you’d be right. With a burger, pizza, sometimes tacos or what not, definitely. But I can’t do beer with steak. It’s gotta be wine. Red. And full-bodied.” He held her gaze as he drank from his own glass. Why did he have to look at her like that when he said those kinds of words? Her cheeks were warm from more than the booze.

For desert, they shared a decadent marbled brownie/blondie a la mode. He’d had the idea to slide his chair so he was sharing a corner of the table with her, rather than looking across it at her. Purely so they didn’t have to keep sliding the dessert…not so their knees would brush against one another now and then, or so they could feel the heat radiating from one another’s bodies…but actually, exactly for those reasons.

“Last bite is to you, Sy.” She set her fork down, full to bursting.

“Are you kiddin’? My mama’d tan my hide if she knew I took the last bite from my date.”

“You’re being gallant, actually! Rescuing me from a certain belly ache.” She patted her small but slightly rounded tummy. She did like her food, and was no gym rat, after all. He didn't seemed to mind. Yet.

“How 'bout we share the last bite?” He suggested.

“Technically that’s not physically possible. Becau…”

He interrupted what was going to be an intellectual explanation of why no matter how small you cut up a bite, the remaining bit was still technically one bite, and couldn’t be shared.

“No. Shh. I know you’re smart. You got nothin’ to prove here. I’m gonna cut what’s left in half until I get a bite you’re willing to take. Okay?” She nodded.

He only had to take the fork to it twice before she conceded, also letting him feed her, feigning paralysis from the food coma. She held the fork tightly between her lips, making him work to pull it from her mouth. She looked innocent, but she was an intentional little shit.

“You're so cute when you eat.”

“Said no one ever!” She held her hand over her face.

“You are, though. You enjoy the food. Experience it. It’s like you’re…getting a story from it, or something. Like it’s…almost like it’s entertaining you, I don’t know. It’s just…beautiful.” He leaned his elbow onto the table, supporting his head in his hand as he looked at her.

"Well, sometimes I think I like food a little TOO much for my own good." she lamented, reaching for the cabernet only to have it snatched by her date. He uncorked it and dispensed a generous pour for her, and topped off his own glass, killing the bottle.

"No such thing. Like I said about the wine, full bodied is the way to go. Nothin' wrong with a little cushion." he winked at her. She could not resist finishing a rhyme she'd always heard about the desirability of curvy girls…for the pushin,' and hoped the flush in her cheeks from the wine was enough to disguise the deepening color from the current blush she was feeling thinking of Sy…pushin' her cushions…but something tipped him off to her distraction.

"What's on yer mind, sunshine?"

"I'm wondering if you're prepared to carry me on this walk we're planning, actually." It was possible to think more than one thing, after all. "I don't know how I'll ever even walk again."

"Ah, give it fifteen minutes. Finish up your sweet tea, and by the time we're done with our walk, you'll want an ice cream cone."

"Ha, doubtful." But she was ashamed to admit, ice cream already didn't sound bad. Vanilla…maybe pistachio….no, coffee! In a waffle cone…with fudge drizzle…and almonds…maybe she had a problem.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded. He flagged down Katie and gave her cash, and what one might call a benevolent tip. They left the warm steakhouse, and entered the breezy late summer evening, the humid air seeming thick with promises.

Up Next: Chapter Six-Sensory Integration 2

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc

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bl-garbage · 4 years

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coming out, like in the movies.

There are far too many reasons, wide-ranging and on varied degrees, for why coming out is That One Thing all queer people share in suffering. Yet, in the end, all of these boil down to that one overarching fear: that society will reject us.

Those who soften the blows of this reality will hold our hands, like Anna does (I love her so much, I fucking do), or will offer a safe space and let us cry it all out, like Ate Judit does. Others simply know and will let us come out of our own accord, like Tito Santi does.

These are warm instances of comfort, but ultimately they are mere consolations to help us come to terms with our mad realization that we had been ‘different’ all along. That we were unnatural. Sinful. A fraud. A phase. An illness. A mistake. An abomination. A wrong. The elements of horror that society has instilled upon us cast a looming shadow, that which would follow us even as we try our damned hardest to step out into the light. The truly laudable thing about Gaya sa Pelikula is how the show willingly offers an opportunity for introspection, a clearance for one to delve into the trajectory of their own stories.

I myself have never come out. Imagine that. A hundred gay-themed movies, one massive crush on Chris Evans, and a desire to be TayNew’s personal bodyguard later, and I still have not said the word out loud. I know because I keep track. My friends know I like boys, and I have never hidden it to those that truly matter, but the reality is that I have never admitted it either. For good measure, I would often create buffers, perhaps in an attempt to make things more palatable: I talk about boys, in all their chiseled glory, but from time to time I make sure to let someone hear, whoever has an ear, that I too had been in love with a girl ‘back then, when I was a teen, back in high school, I guess’ - which is true anyway. I will not discount that experience. But then here comes the shameful part: ‘So maybe I’m not totally gay,’ I would rationalize. ‘And why not? I could very well be bisexual.’ Or perhaps fluid. Or perhaps I was simply too afraid of a label.

Back then, I had probably already guessed this One Thing about myself, but perhaps as a defense mechanism, I had subconsciously ignored it. To friends now, my official story is that I had been in love with a girl - had expressed so myself and had written things about her and had bought her gifts - but then, eventually realized that I was also capable of liking a boy. This narrative is only partly true. What I leave out is the very real possibility that liking a girl could have very well only been part of this overall journey, one that had just been all too complex to understand for my nascent, horrified self. I was only what, 15, when I was first confronted with the reality that loving a boy was possible.

(One day I had found myself walking with a boy and realized butterflies had been swarming in my stomach. One day I was much too filled with a desire to message him that maybe things were feeling different. One day my mom caught me with that very message, saved as a draft on the phone, and my desperation may have betrayed my concocted excuse that it was just a joke, mommy, really. Didn’t matter what I said; it was what she said that had stuck with me anyway: In tones of pleas, she said, son, please, don’t. One day my mother and I agreed never to talk about it, but I knew better. There was no joke about all this: not what I felt for that one boy, but what I felt within myself. And a more brutal reality: That there was no way in hell my mother would ever except my truth.)

I had no one to help me understand. Things did not look the way they were over half a decade ago. Liking a boy seemed so wrong.

Which is why, I know exactly what Karl felt. Vlad had asked him, “Ano ka (What are you)?” and immediately told Karl that he should not be scared of the word. But the truth is, gay is a scary word. As much as we hate to admit it, being gay means being shunned, facing the worst of the world without any armor. It feels as though walking bare naked, unsheltered, with simple questions otherwise borne out of genuine concern feeling like sharp daggers thrown from all directions.

Things like these, one does not really get used to. They’re not ones that are suddenly okay, just because another person professes that they accept us. The bravest souls in the community will attest that they, too, fight to have the courage every single day. I recall the coming out video of Dan Howell, who had so perfectly articulated why the word ‘gay’ feels so uncomfortable. To me, ironically, the word seems like a label that, once uttered, would permanently seal me in a box, devoid of any guarantee of an out. What if things changed and I suddenly found myself liking a girl (though I doubt that anymore)? The answer to this is one I already know: that only I hold this decision. Would society then, as I have been so predisposed to believe, think that I had lied, that I had failed to be honest? Even when the honest truth of it all is that doubt and fear are two sides of one coin? To my mind, the word ‘gay’ already seems like a conclusion, and henceforth any acts that I do, the word would hinge itself. What if there’s no eject button? That is the truly horrifying thing.

This is an experience all too common, which is why it resonated with every viewer. Similarly, the experience comes with more aggravating instances: Throughout the whole episode, there was the atmosphere of great unrest, which we all know had been a directorial intention. From the cold open, we are shown a slow motion that signifies how overly conscious Karl was to everything; we are shown the way Karl’s voice had been muted when he was trying to talk to Tito Santi; we are shown just how problems are kept hidden and in secret, as when Ate Judit and Tito Santi were talking over them and Karl just being quiet, silenced, until it was he who had been put on the hot seat, ever so suddenly.

These people who are supposed to be allies have talked over Karl, drowning out his voice. Only at their own signal did they let Karl talk, and by then, it was to answer the question Karl had dreaded all along. We know they want the best for the boys, but this is important to note just the same: No one must be forced out of the closet. It will only harbor more pains. As expected, this unsettling atmosphere has paved the way for the confrontation we had long known was coming.

The heartbreaking part is that Vlad understands, so much so that he has been patient. Karl needs to find his own self, just like Vlad did. Just like everyone does. The montage of their own perfect life, lived in a large box that is their apartment, was but a sweet escape, and Vlad knows that. This was their shelter from harm. But a time must come when this has to end and they must come out. What has happened there so far - the dance, the hugs, the kisses, and all the memories - it was all real, but it was also hidden. And if one of you denies it happened, how would you trust your own truth? Vlad had taken the lead, because he had the pass to come in and out of this large box, sharing this precious space with Karl. Yet, it was understandable that Vlad had also been itching to help Karl come out on his own. To Karl, that is the most terrifying thing. When he said, we’re okay, Vlad, okay? he was desperately looking for normalcy, to abort this mission and go back and just - just stop.

Vlad has been through that, and was all over it. No longer.

Neither of them is to blame. On one hand, you own your truth; and on the other, you can never force one to live a lie and go back into the closet, just so that they may be at your own pace.

The bold truth about Gaya sa Pelikula’s penultimate episode is this: Neither Karl nor Vlad is wrong. It is they who have been wronged. By a society that has forced each one of us to hide, to man up, to woman up, to believe that the only way of seeing people was on the basis of what's between their legs and not what 's inside their heads. And Ate Judit, Anna, or Tito Santi may try their best, but they can do no more than to assuage the horror that comes with living your own truth.

I cannot stress enough how important shows like Gaya sa Pelikula are. For those who are only in the first laps of this journey of coming out, it can be their console. To me, this is a way of understanding why things came out the way they were. To others, this is a welcome respite. An embrace.

This is the magnificence of Juan Miguel Severo’s love letter to the LGBTQI+ community. This was just masterfully done. I find comfort in Vlad’s own love letter to Karl. I’ll bid goodbye for now, go into a corner of this box, and mull over the choices I've made thus far. (Reader, to be honest: I’m now writing this in my dormitory, in my own box I suppose. For the past six episodes I had been watching the show at home, but now I had to stay in the dorms. I guess, this was fate, too, to help me process my own feelings, alone.) Anyway, for those who have not seen it:

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God, I am just overwhelmed with emotions. Just gonna cry now.

#GAYA SA PELIKULA #gayasapelikulaep07 #ian pangilinan #paolo pangilinan #juan miguel severo #bl series #dan howell #pinoy bl series #gaya sa pelikula

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uwu-boll · 3 years

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Yesterday I consumed nearly 4 grams of mushrooms. Here is what that was like for me:

First, this isnt my first rodeo. I've consumed psychedelics a few times before; I wouldnt call myself necessarily experienced but I have an education background in psychopharmacology and I have a couple of trips under my belt already so I knew what to expect and how it was going to feel going into it. 2 months ago. my girlfriend and I purchased 7 grams of mushrooms to split for our anniversary weekend this past week. We purchased a hotel room - I wanted to avoid doing this at home due to a very stressful living situation - and situated our setting so as to be best prepared to go about our experience. This included water, music, videogames, some snacks, etc. The necessities.

Our day started following a night of several shared margaritas and burgers between us. We went swimming, had coffee and a light breakfast, went to therapy together, and then a healthy midday lunch. Following that, we gathered the supplies for the night and settled in at around 3pm. Starting then, I measured out the dosages for the both of us; 2.75g for her, 3.87g for me (the dosages were more or less arbitrary, but we had a ballpark of what kind of experience we were looking for). She ate hers straight up, while I prepared a 'lemon tek'; powdered shrooms soaked in lemon juice for some time. There is some science behind it, but the idea is to shorten the duration or the experience while making it more intense. This also helps with digestion to prevent nausea, although there will still be some present as your body tries to 'reject' the chemical.

My shrooms sat in lemon juice for 20 mins before I tossed them all in orange juice for me to take big gulps of. Disclaimer - I HATE the taste, smell, texture, EVERYTHING about mushrooms. This... isnt necessarily better, but it's the best way to consume them short of capsules, I've found.

3:25 PM: I start drinking my pulpy orange juice - mushroom cocktail. It tastes like sour orange juice, because of the lemon juice I added, but the thought of the mushrooms in there makes me gag before I even get the concoction in my mouth. I can already tell this is going to be an endeavour. I take one big swig, maybe a fifth of the bottle, and approximately a quarter of the dose. I wait about 5 mins before taking another swig

3:35: one more swig, followed by a dab, hoping that the weed will calm my tummy. It does, but not before I nearly puke coughing up a lung

3:45: I finish the cocktail. This whole time I'm watching my girlfriend - who is approximately 15 minutes ahead of me having already dosed - set up the Nintendo switch and design a character on Tony Hawks Pro Skater, the remastered edition. She finishes, we take a dab, and we start playing. We, for some reason, start with a VS game, first to 500,000 points. I dont know why we thought that was a good idea, but we did. From here on, times are approximate.

Approximately 3:50: We are mindlessly skating in complete silence, absolute fixated in this game. I'm pretty high from the dabs as it is, so I'm spacing out and having trouble coordinating.

Approximately 4:00: I'm focused entirely on how gross my stomach feels having drank the cocktail. My body feels heavy, and it's very difficult to coordinate in the game properly.

Approximately 4:15: We are probably 100,000 points into this game before we both realize how long it's going to take before anyone wins. Were both kinda over it, and clearly struggling with performing and we only know it's going to get worse. As the come up begins, I feel a profound sense of anxiety. Recognizing it as the comeup anxiety, I dismiss it, but it's quickly becoming pretty overwhelming. The lemon tek, in shortening and intensifying the experience, creates very powerful come ups. We stop playing THPS and switch to Super Mario 3D World, which makes me feel better

Approximately 4:30: We get through 2 levels before we stop playing for the night. We decide to cuddle and try to calm each other down. We put on Bo Burnham's 'Inside' to listen to while we come up, which was a great idea because we love him. Really got us talking about our pasts and the meanings behind each of his songs. My body is very heavy, but I feel at absolute peace within it - I'm not biting my nails compulsively or shaking my legs - despite the come up anxiety and the slight nausea. I feel attached to the bed, I didnt want to get up even if I had to. I am absolutely CHEESIN, smiling so hard my cheeks still hurt a day later.

Approximately 4:45: I am staring at the wall, looking at what appears to be a pattern overlaying the texture of the wall. I see the same pattern on the bathroom floor. I'm questioning as to whether or not it's really there. I quickly move to the ceiling - a popcorn ceiling - where I am blown away; the lighting in the room makes the ceiling look both purple and green. My pareidolia is going crazy and I see constantly shifting patterns in the white noise that is the popcorn ceiling. The crazy thing is knowing that there is no pattern to the nonsense I am seeing, but making out patterns regardless. I stare at this for awhile. The ceiling is flowing like water.

The exact order of events henceforth are kind of a blur. We lay in bed for the rest of the night, but the topics of discussion vary from point to point, mostly us complimenting each other and praising each other. At some point, Inside ended, and we listened to Hamilton. However, I hardly remember both the end of Inside nor the entirety of Hamilton, and so it's likely that around d approximately 5 oclock, began the Great Existential Breakdown (TM)

At approximately 5 oclock, I was peaking. Emotions were running high, and, in response to being hungry, I had a breakdown because I hated the fact that I was born into a world dominated by cruelty, inhumanity, and the insatiable drive for profit. I hated that I lived in a world where something as simple as hunger was a problem, and that food - a human right - is commodified. I hated that consumption was obligatory, and that to feed the endless gluttony that is the human need to consume, we exploit both our fellow humans, and the planet. I hated that in that obligatory need to consume, weve facilitated this social climate in which it's okay to pollute our world and exploit the human labor condition so as long as its convenient to the consumer and profitable to the corporation. (Now that I think about it, this may have been spurned by Bo Burnhams 'That Funny Feeling', which I feel like is his most powerful song on the album. ) This quickly evolved into how being born, and forced into a world without your consent where conditions like this exist in the first place is inherently a violent act, and that having children is immoral until we create an environment where those conditions are obsolete. Then to how bullshit it is that I am forced to take care of a meatsuit for the whole of my life, but I have to pay to upkeep all of it as if i had some choice in the matter. This lead to me talking about how I wanted to be a transient observer of the universe, untethered to any physical point in space. Not quite dead, not quite alive - still able to see things happen, but not be able to participate. I then went on to say how I didnt think suicide was the answer to my problems because that doesnt necessarily get rid of the conditions that lead to my despair, but rather creates new problems for my loved ones. I knew that the key was to live in despite of the despair and to continue on in search of my own personal meaning.

This breakdown lasted approximately 3 hours and was very emotional for both of us. We spent a lot of time crying and talking about stuff weve never spoken about before. The comedown was very gentle and helped me feel very cathartic and relaxed. Over the course of the comedown I took several dabs, a few of which brought me back to 'The Wonky Space' (TM). However, this was short lived. My girlfriend sat in the tub naked from the waist down, which quickly turned into a bath, and from there, after my breakdown, we started to relax, watch some Shameless, went downstairs, got some snacks, some drinks, and went to bed.

Before I fell asleep, and once I knew the experience was 100% over, I took some time to reflect and felt very satisfied with what happened. It wasnt at all what I expected the night to be, but I felt like I needed to do that, and experience that kind of existential pain. I felt very relaxed once I got control of my body again, and that peace - the general sense of wellbeing, happiness, lack of anxiety, connectivity to my partner and my fellow man - has persisted well into the next day, and will likely continue for at least the next week. 10/10 would do again.

Would I say I had a bad trip? No. Was it a good one? N...no. but I had a great time, it was fun, and enlightening, and helped me realize where I feel like I am struggling mentally.

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annsparksthegmr · 4 years

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Pokemon Black Nuzlocke - Part 1

Hey! Wanted to try something different because quarantine is boring and since where I am, lock down is happening again, I thought about doing something I thought I’d never do: why not attempt a Nuzlocke of one of my favorite Pokemon games? Sounds crazy, I know. But I could at the very least put the game down in between sessions. And I thought by doing one, it would be interesting - and I kind of wanted to work on a Pokemon OC idea based on that run.

One I hope to get to drawing soon enough. But for right now, it is Nuzlocke time. (I should be finished Shield, but honestly I’ve gotten too bored and disappointed with that game to even finish the main story.)

So if you’re interested in reading the little notes I have regarding this Pokemon Black Nuzlocke, you can read more below. And if you don’t, that’s fine too!

So with all that being said, I'll try and keep things in bullet points since I’m not entirely sure how to format this. But I’m going with Nuzlocke Rules as follows:

I can only catch 1 Pokemon each route that is my first encounter. If it faints, I can’t have any other Pokemon from the route. (Gift Pokemon also do count as an encounter if given in a specific area. Such as the one before the first Gym counts as my Dream Yard encounter.)

However, I am involving a dupes clause in case I encounter the same Pokemon back to back on routes. So I can’t have two Lillipups but I will allow myself to capture a Purrloin and Liepard if they are on separate routes as encounters. But if the Purrloin has evolved to a Liepard by the time I encounter the wild Liepard, I can use Dupes clause to not capture it. (I hope to not have to use this rule. But I just don’t want a team full of the exact same Pokemon when I have to face the champion.)

If a Pokemon faints, I can not use them again since they are considered dead.

All Pokemon on my team must be nicknamed. No exception.

Shiny Clause is here in place by some random odds a Shiny Pokemon appears. I’ll catch it, but I won’t use it.

As challenging as it would be to play without items, I will only restrict myself from using the battle enhancing items such as X Speed.

Any additional ones shall be added if I feel like things are getting too easy.

Now to the actually notes regarding the beginning of this Nuzlocke.

Current name of my character is Avi. It is a placeholder name for the time being. But I like how it could be a nickname.

Starter Pokemon is Snivy. !!!Female!!! Nickname shall henceforth be Queen. (Could have probably gone Fire or Water Starter, but I am bias toward most Grass Starters.)

Route 1 encounter is a female Lillipup. Nicknamed Puppy.

Fought N and Queen was brought into yellow health. Switched out to Puppy for the easy victory. Kind of forgot N just decides to challenge you out of nowhere, but thankfully I was healed for the battle beforehand.

Route 2 encounter is a female Purrloin. Nicknamed Ghost Girl - Yugioh Vrains reference. Later, I came to regret the name choice.

Ghost Girl nearly died to a critic hit from a Level 4 Patrat. Survived on 1 hp.

In Striaton City fighting Cheren at the school. He manages to burn Ghost Girl and reduce her to 2 HP. Still alive as Puppy finished off the Tepig. Puppy also finished off Purrloin and defeated Cheren.

Dreamyard Patrat also brought Ghost Girl to red yet again. Purrloin seemed nice but appears to be a liability.

In the Dreamyard, I took the Panpour to help out against the upcoming first Gym battle. Despite the fact I doubted to use it in the long run, I decided to name him Fountain

Striaton Gym is primarily a Fountain and Puppy show in the battles. Got the first badge after beating Chili without any losses.

Fennel comes to bug me about Dream Mist and stuff while my Pokemon are still injured. So I healed everyone up before heading there. Bianca just watched as a Munna got hit by some Team Plasma members before one of them decided to come and hit me. Hit me as if battling me. Which i quickly defeated one no problem. Then the other met the same fate.

Thankfully a Musharna stepped in while Bianca was too scared to do anything. Fennel also got her Dream Mist which I will probably have no use of considering the fact everyone has moved onto the Pokemon Switch games and forgot Fennel even existed.

Also Fennel prevented me from leaving town so I got to hear about the useless feature I’ll never fully get to use. And I doubt to hear from her again.

I decided to visit the little daycare center instead of getting a new encounter right away. Just because I wanted to level up primarily Puppy and Queen. Because Ghost Girl and Fountain were not going to be big party members in the long run. At least I do not think so.

But on Route 3, Cheren challenged me after I beat up twin girls. And I wasn’t entirely confident about the fight. Though I did have Pokemon around the same level as Tepig, I was starting to realize how much I did not remember regarding levels of opponents of this game. And how I might need to prepare for upcoming Gyms and battles.

Though luckily, Fountain and Puppy managed to carry me to victory. Then Team Plasma decided to steal a young girl’s Pokemon and I have to go with Cheren to fix it while Bianca comforts the young girl. Which, both of us proceeded to wipe the floor with the Grunts no problem. Plus it did help in the double battle they decided to keep biting Tepig, leaving Queen to get off a Growth before using Vine Whip to knock them both out.

I did decide to get my encounter in the caves once Team Plasma left and found a Roggenrola. It was female - which usually it was hard for me to get female Pokemon whenever I played. So I tried catching it, since even though I could not fully evolve it to its final form, I didn’t think it was a truly bad Pokemon to pick up. So Pebbles joined the team! Never used a Roggenrola but I kind of hope if she survives it will make the fourth Gym battle easier.

Now before I went grinding up Pebbles to catch up and everyone to a similar level, I needed to get my Route 3 encounter. Though I had completely forgotten the Blitzle trainer existed, so when I switched in Pebbles she nearly died. I kind of forgot that right now, those defenses suck. And it might have also been a crit. That or Shockwave. And out of everything for my runs, I fear the random crits knocking out my Pokemon. Second is me suddenly being under leveled or not prepared for a battle.

So I wanted to try my luck in the dark grass for a double encounter to increase my odds of finding a more unique encounter. But I got a Blitz, who was a male and I caught him in a Heal Ball. His name is now Zigzagzop because funny reference. And he was holding a Cheri berry for some reason. Nice.

This route was also when I realized I could have gotten a Pidove, but at the very least using them to level up Zigzagzop would be nice.

And here is where I’m going to be ending any story progression and solely focus and trying to get everyone up to Level 15 who is on my primary team. Because I did look up there is a Trainer Battle with N where he’s around Level 13. Though me being dumb did not realize I had Queen attack a Patrat twice with Vine whip and it was about to unleash its powered up attack. Luckily I had Pebbles who had Sturdy tank the hit and then switch back to take it out.

But I am considering maybe leveling everyone up to around 18-19 to prepare for the Lenora battle. Mainly because I know she is going to be a challenge as none of my team knows any fighting type moves. That and I recall her Watchhog using Retaliate giving me lots of problems when I was younger.

I have no real plans besides trying to either tank out things with Pebbles or pray I can easily knock out Watchog. Not sure if there are any tips or tricks regarding how to beat that in terms of Nuzlockes. But next time I update everyone, I should have beaten Lenora with hopefully no deaths, but considering the situations… I got a feeling I’m going to mess up and get some deaths. And I got a strong feeling it may involve Ghost Girl considering the amount of times she has nearly died already. Or if I screw up Pebbbles’ Sturdy.

Team Recap:

Queen - Female Snivy (Lvl 14)

Puppy - Female Lillipup (Lvl 14)

Ghost Girl - Female Purrloin (Lvl 11)

Fountain - Male Sampour (Lvl 12)

Pebbles - Female Roggnerola (Lvl 11)

Zigzagzop - Male Blitzle (Lvl 12)

Deaths: 0

#pokemon #pokemon black #pokemon black nuzlocke #pokemon nuzloke #personal thoughts #trying something new #hopefully I can complete this #or actually draw stuff related to this

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aarongoldenwrites · 4 years

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So, I watched Prince of Egypt on Wednesday night to celebrate Passover. Then, I noticed some people watching it to celebrate Easter, which, okay, fine. It's not like you're holding a seder and it is an excellent movie.

But along the way, it occurred to me that part of our responsibility to God and one another is to share the Passover story with others.

So I'm going to do that now.

My way. With a certain degree of fidelity and a certain degree of irreverence.

You have been warned.

Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat happens. Jacob went to Egypt, blah, blah, blah, the children of Israel settle in Egypt. Problem is, the land of Egypt is currently under the conquering foot of the Hyskos, so when the Jews helped the ruling class they helped the conquerors because those were the people in charge. The Hyskos were predominantly a sea-people who had also invented chariots and they terrorized the Mediterranean. We think they might have been Mycenean or a proto-Mycenean culture. A couple hundred years go by. Some Jews leave Egypt and matriculate to the Sinai or further north, to Canaan. We'll come back to them later.

The Egyptians have learned all about chariots and are now better at them than the Hyskos. They politely ask the Hyskos to leave, wait five minutes, and then use chariots to kill as many of them as they can run over. The rest show themselves out. “Eh, not our problem,” says the Jews. They were wrong.

And so four hundred years of slavery begins. The Egyptians use the Jews to build their homes and their temples and their statues and other structures, but not the goddamn pyramids (which had been there since the first dynastic age and this is about the middle of the second). The pyramids at this point were covered in limestone, which meant you could see them from freaking anywhere during the day and made navigating the desert a little easier.

What were the pyramids for? Well, other than being a shining beacon for land navigation, they also had some cool uses for astronomy and astrology. The Egyptians were big believes in astrology, with thirteen astrological houses (the Greeks would later condense it to twelve, because they had a thing about the number thirteen). So, with all this astrology going on, some Egyptian priests start warning the Pharaoh that the Jews might revolt. “Well, they're already revolting,” the Pharaoh says, and everyone laughs because the Pharaoh just told a joke and he is considered to be a literal god.

Anyways, they come up with a theory that someone will be born on such-and-such a day, under this astrological house or maybe that one, and will probably be a firstborn child, and that person will lead the Jews to freedom. “Screw that,” Pharaoh says, “Who will do the laundry or weave our fine linen? Do... do people expect us to change the nappies of our young?” A simple solution is reached: every firstborn male child (because a female leader? Hah!) of a given sign will be taken from their parents and relocated to the Nile, where they will be eaten or drown or probably both. Any parents that resist will be beaten and probably killed, which is okay because we're only slaves. This happens every few years. For four hundred years.

A woman named Yocheved (pronounced “Yocheved”) is born. She will later be voiced by Ofra Haza, and if you don't know you Ofra Haza is you should youtube her and listen to her sing; you're in for a treat. If you don't know who Yocheved is, she's Moses' mom. Moses' mom already has two kids: Miriam and Aaron (I'm named for him). Miriam gets out of danger of death by Nile by being a girl, and Aaron gets away from it because no one cares about Aaron (there's some thought that he's the second son of a previous marriage, and that Miriam was born of that marriage, too. Moses is the first son of the most recent marriage or the result of a not-wedded sexing, which might have been an Egyptian lover or the result of her being a sex slave, because we know that happens when slavery is a thing). Yocheved has been around a bit, and she takes her baby in a basket to the Nile because the Egyptians sometimes let parents do this – it was easier than killing a slave that someone important might like. Yocheved has sneakily made the basket buoyant, so it floats down the Nile and into the Pharoah's palace. Pharoah's wife finds the basket with the baby inside and decides that she's going to keep it because it's clearly a gift from the gods. They name the kid not-Moses (Yocheved gave him that name).

Miriam had a job working in the palace doing menial jobs like doing the laundry, weaving linen, and changing her secret brother's nappies. And if a slave is calling the young prince “Moses”, well, what does that mean, anyway? Silly slave.

Moses grows up with his brother, Ramses. There's no expectations for Moses, as he is an adopted child and cannot inherit anything, but Father-Ramses has big expectations for Son-Ramses and we're going to get some inter-generational trauma here based in vicarious living, good intentions, and cultural bias. Shall we do the thing? Moses is put in charge of some military efforts up north and to the east. He organizes some raids against people living in the Sinai and brings back slaves. Father-Ramses is pleased, but his big plan was to separate the brothers and give Son-Ramses a chance to mature. Son-Ramses is put in charge of some temple shit and does pretty okay.

The two brothers reconnect. Son-Ramses is named Pharaoh-to-be and no one is shocked. He awards Moses with one of the slaves that was taken by Moses, a woman named Tzipporah (pronounced “Tzipporah”). Tzipporah is an actual badass and escapes. Moses helps through inaction and, along the way, discovers he might be Jewish. Miriam is able to show him his basket, tell him what happened to his mother, and otherwise prove that this particular prince of Egypt is actually a Jew. Moses' reaction is so bad you'd think he was listening to Alex Jones. Father-Ramses finds Moses and negs him. “You're not like those other Jews,” says he. “They're only slaves. We feed their kids to the Nile. We did it just last week, you can still see some of the pieces floating in the water. See the red bits?”

Moses is not doing so well and wanders around a bit. He sees an Egyptian taskmaster having fun whipping some Jew to death. Moses grabs the whip and kills the taskmaster. The other taskmasters are ready to respond but Moses is a prince and they know they have to respect his authority so they do nothing. Moses freaks out and it becomes public knowledge that Moses is a Jew, so they banish him and Father-Ramses has Moses' name expunged from the records, and sets a law that not-Moses' name shall not be uttered on pain of death. Father Ramses says his adopted son's name again on his death bed.

Moses flees across the desert with almost nothing. He makes it to Sinai and comes across three lost Hyskos harassing three children. He uses “I'm a Prince of Egypt, bitch!” and it's super effective. The Hyskos run away. Moses pulls a Wesley from the Princess Bridge – he has no strength and falls down. There's a well right beside him, so why not fall into that?

Moses is pulled out of the well by Tzipporah and the kids. Tzipporah recognizes him and kicks him back in, because this is SINAI~! The kids explain that he chased off the Hyskos, though, and then she helps Moses out of the well and takes him home. Her father, Jethro, is one of those Jews that wandered away from Egypt back when and settled in Sinai. Moses is invited into the tribe because why not? It's just the sort of getaway he needs to find himself. He finds he enjoys being a shepherd and finds himself working for Jethro and the tribe, tending sheep. He tries to put his past behind him. Moses falls in love with Tzipporah. She also falls in love with him. Jethro is delighted by this. “What's not to love,” says Jethro. “He's a prince!” He presides over the wedding.

A sheep Moses is tending gets lost. He follows it to a bush that happens to not be burning despite being on fire. “Moses,” the bush says. “I am here,” Moses says. The proper nomenclature is “he nae ani”, for those wondering how to respond if God ever speaks to you. They have a chat where God tells Moses to go back to Egypt and Moses says that's not going to happen. Moses is arguing with God, though, so there's a good chance he's going to lose and go to Egypt.Edit or delete this

He loses and goes to Egypt. Moses brings his wife with him, and part of his deal with God is that he gets a security blanket. In this instance, that means his brother, Aaron, who he barely knows. Miriam ends up playing matchmaker and also gives Moses a place to stay while he's vacationing in Egypt, which is nice of her. You can always count on family.

So, remember Father-Ramses? He's dead now. Son-Ramses has taken over. Henceforth, he shall be referred to as “Ramses.”

Moses, Aaron, and Tzipporah go to the palace. Ramses recognizes Moses and welcomes him home because they do love one another. The priests point out that Father Ramses has Moses' name erased from history and he exiled. Ramses goes “No worries, this is my bro, bro. We'll call him by his slave name, and slave name bro cannot be tried for any reason. Word of Pharaoh, y'all, this is, like, a law now.”

And it was.

Moses needs security blanket Aaron to be there before he presents his case: “Um, God spoke to me and said to let His people go.” “Did he?” “Yes.” God turns Moses' staff into a snake because that's impressive. The Egyptian priests respond by doing the same thing, so Moses' snake eats their snakes and then becomes a staff again. Moses looks at Aaron and repeats the let my people go thing. Ramses is not impressed and decides to make the Jews' lives harder.

God turns all the water in Egypt to blood. The Jews get water, but if the Egyptians try to drink it, it becomes blood. The Egyptian linens are all bloodstained and also they are suffering from dehydration, so now the slaves are lacking off like they're the working class during a coronavirus outbreak and the Egyptians are the 1%. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, drinks some blood, and says 'no.'

God calls frogs. Everywhere there are frogs. Everywhere there are frogs. They are in your bed. Your bathroom. Your linen drawer. Your clothing. Your hair. Frogs. Frogs everywhere. The Jews do not have this problem. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, eats a frog, and says 'no.'

God calls lice. You'd think they frogs would get them, but the frogs leave them and the Jews alone and the lice are also not bothering the Jews. The Egyptians are shaving themselves everywhere to try and deal with the lice. It is not working well. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, scratching his bald spots, and says 'get out of here.' The Jews get super excited when they hear. The blood becomes water. The frogs go away. The lice vanish. The Jews pack up what little they have and get ready to leave, but before the bread they're baking can rise Ramses changes his mind. “Who will do the laundry?” Ramses demands. The Jews are forced back to work.

God summons flies. Flies clouds so thick they block out the sun. Flies in such numbers that you can't tell day from night. You open your mouth and choke on flies. They cannot be escaped. They do not bother the Jews. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, chokes on some flies, and says 'no.'

God inflicts disease on the domesticated animals of Egypt. They begin to wither and die, providing more breeding grounds for more flies. The stink is unbelievable. Livestock used and cared for by Jews are fine or recover, but those owned by Egyptians pus and scab and blister and peel. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, cradling a crocodile that used to eat Jewish babies, and says 'no.'

God uses boils on the Egyptians. It is super effective. Egyptian flesh begins to blister and burn and peel. It hurts. It itches. You scratch and you bleed. The Jews are not affected. The blood soaking your linens is now your own. Your skin is rotting if you are Egyptian and there is nothing you can do. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, his fingers sinking into his flesh, and says 'get the hell out of here.' The Jews get super excited when they hear. The flies go away. The livestock recovers. The Egyptians heal without scars. The Jews pack up what little they have and get ready to leave, but before the bread they're baking can rise Ramses changes his mind. “Who will weave our fine linen?” Ramses demands. The Jews are forced back to work.

Okay, so up until this point, the Egyptian priesthood has been waging magical war on Moses, and Moses has been responding in kind and kicking all kinds of ass. This is a forty-day magical duel, with a bunch of smaller plagues, hexes, and curses. The priesthood has done their best to match Moses plague for plague, and this is where they fucking fail. Why? GOD CALLS GIANT BALLS OF FLAMING ICE FROM THE SKY. We're talking treasure chest-sized chunks of ice that are also on fire. They slam into buildings and people, freezing what they touch, while the fire spreads and consumes everything that isn't frozen or Jewish. The Jews are fine. A little panicky, maybe, because it's clear God is done fucking around. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, standing in the Nile where he will not be on fire, and says 'no.'

God calls locusts. Demon locusts. Cicadas. They make THAT sound and also eat all the stores of food that the Egyptians have, and all their fine linen, and bite the Egyptians, and they're everywhere, and the priesthood has failed, and maybe Ramses should listen this time and do the thing. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, then asks Moses to repeat the question over THAT sound, and whimpers 'no.'

SO GOD PUTS THE SUN AWAY. The Jews still have light, but the Egyptians cannot see it, cannot feel it. There is no light or warmth, and the torches they steal or protect begin to gutter, their light seething down to nothing. Moses approaches Ramses and promises this will end if Ramses will let the Jews go. Ramses thinks about it, alone in the dark, and says 'get the fuck out of here.' The Jews get super excited when they hear. The fires go out and ice thaws. THAT sound stops. The sun comes back. The Jews pack up what little they have and get ready to leave, but before the bread they're baking can rise Ramses changes his mind. “Who will change the nappies of our babies” Ramses demands. The Jews are forced back to work.

See, Ramses remembers he has a child. Moses has a nephew. And that nephew questions Ramses' commitment to sparkle motion, and by sparkle motion I mean Egypt. They need to make Egypt great again, and maybe the best way to do that is to take the Jewish firstborn children and adults regardless of sign and put them in a camp called the Nile, where they will drown or be eaten. And he tells this to Moses and Moses understands and begs – he begs his brother not to do this. Ramses promises a wail will rise out of Egypt in the morning that is like nothing anyone will have ever heard before or ever hear again. Ramses decides to kill every firstborn Jew in his kingdom. They're only slaves.

Moses tells the Jews to cover their doorframes in lamb's blood. He does not tell them why. The burden of foreknowledge is his alone.

God visits every Egyptian household and claims every firstborn male, a mockery of Pharaoh's threat. God takes the adults. God takes the children. The only firstborn he leaves is Ramses. Every other firstborn male dies. All of them.

Moses approaches Ramses. There are no words. What could he say? What comfort could he give his brother? How should he mourn his nephew? There are no words. Ramses whispers “Go.”

The Jews are not super excited when they hear. They are terrified and heart-broken, but they also possess enough pattern recognition to not bother with waiting for the bread to rise. They leave with unleavened bread (matzah), gather what they can carry, and go. Some of the Egyptians want to go with them, and they are welcomed. Moses leads the Jews to the Red Sea. The Jews are not sure where they want to go, but God tells Moses that he intends to return them to Canaan – they just need to make a stop in the desert first. God has told Moses what he has to do but Moses is reluctant after that whole mass murder thing. He cannot help but feel that he is responsible.

Ramses is torn by grief and anger. There are others that are likewise torn. He tries using the power of his gods and the priests to call back his son from death. His son is still dead. His son is still dead. He is Pharaoh. He cannot let this stand. The chariots are gathered. All the Jews will die. They ride.

The Jews are wondering what to do next when the Egyptian army starts racing towards them. A HURRICANE OF FIRE comes out of the Red Sea and creates a wall of flame between the Egyptians and the Jews. God tells Moses to do the thing. Moses does the thing.

The Red Sea parts, allowing the Jews to pass from Egypt to Sinai. As the Jews approach Sinai, God lets the wall of fire dissipate and presents Ramses with a choice: stay here and let the Jews go or die. Ramses believes he is a God, so he decides to charge with his whole army. As the Jews are pulling out of the water, they notice the army coming for them. The waters begin to close. Moses calls to God: “My brother spared me from his wrath, please do the same for him.” The Egyptians are crushed by the Red Sea – every single chariot is destroyed and all their riders are killed. Only Ramses survives unscathed, tossed by the waters back to Egypt.

In heaven, the angels sing God's praises. “Who is like you, oh God, to have freed a nation in bondage? Who is like you, oh God, to have stood against one nation to free another? Who is like you, oh God, to have fought evil directly-” But God silences the host. “The Egyptians were My children, too,” God says, and weeps.

Gods leads Moses, and Moses leads the Jews into Sinai. They hook up with the other Jews and begin making their way up to Canaan. Moses tells everyone they need to stop for a bit – there's a thing he's gotta go pick up. “My father-in-law can teach you how to stay alive in the desert,” Moses says, and Jethro smiles because he can. Moses leaves Aaron in charge and heads up a mountain.

God gives Moses the Ten Commandments. “Why ten?” Moses asks. “I'm trying to keep this simple,” God replies. “What happens if people disobey?” Moses asks. “From Me? Nothing,” God answers. “And what happens if we do obey?” Moses asks. “The world will be a better place,” God says.

“I AM THE LORD THY GOD.” Simple. Straightforward. The creator of everything and the person and place and thing who can worship or not as you choose. “THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE ME, NOR SHALL YOU MAKE ANY GRAVEN IMAGE OF ME.” This one's a little more complex. It's not “thou shalt have no other gods.” It recognizes other gods, but claims that those gods are part of the creation that God is. God is everything. There is nothing that God is not. By making a graven image, you would be trying to simplify an understanding of God and lying to yourself about what God is. Do not do that. “THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD IN VAIN.” Don't talk with God's authority. You're a mortal, I'm a mortal, the best we have are guesses. Is God there? Does it matter? Don't claim authority that isn't yours. “REMEMBER THE SABBATH DAY, KEEP IT HOLY.” Take a day off. One day out of every sevem, just relax. “HONOR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER.” Be good to your parents. They're trying their best. Keep your promises to them and try not to stress them out too much. “THOU SHALL NOT MURDER.” Don't just go out killing people. You can defend yourself and your family, sure, but wholesale slaughter just leads to more killing. Chill out. “THOU SHALL NOT COMMIT ADULTERY.” So, bigamy was a thing back then, but we don't often talk about how that worked all ways. The real thing being talked about here is going behind people's back to have sex with someone; it's effectively don't lie about sleeping with people, be open and honest about intimacy and the needs of all involved. Honestly, it makes things simpler and would have saved Isaac and Jacob a world of misery. “THOU SHALL NOT STEAL.” Don't take stuff that's not yours. Try and get it back to who owns it if you can. “THOU SHALL NOT BEAR FALSE WITNESS AGAINST THY NEIGHBOR.” Don't start shit. Don't spread rumors and gossip. Just be up front with people. It's not hard. “THOU SHALL NOT COVET THY NEIGHBOR'S SHIT.” It's basically spouse, house, and stuff. Don't compare yourself to other people, because you're not other people. Your metric of success is going to be unique to you, so try to live to that. Living to other people's expectations of what success looks like is only going to make you miserable.

“Simple, right?” God says. “Yeah,” Moses says. “What else you got?” And God has Moses provides a long scroll, some ink, and a silver pen. Then Moses writes the first Torah.

“This is tricky,” Moses says. “First, I die in the second book, and there's five of them. That's a little weird.” “Sorry about that,” God says. “Are you?” “No.” “What about all these other rules?” Moses asks, pointing at books three, four, and five. “A bunch of people are going to sit around getting drunk and formalize them,” God says. “But you're dictating them to me now,” Moses says. “Doesn't that make them the Word of God?” “No,” God says, “It just means I know what they're going to say in the future, because I am them in the future and I am you now and I am here now. All of these things are true at once.” “These books feel like a contract,” Moses says. “They are,” God confirms. “You set the terms of what our relationship is. I've given you the Commandments. The rest is up to you.” “No punishment for breaking them?” Moses asks again. “The only punishment is the world that comes from breaking them,” God says.

“What about the afterlife?” Moses asks. “What about it?” God asks. “What happens there?” Moses asks. “Don't worry about it,” God says. “I do worry about it,” Moses says. “The Egyptians had a whole book of the dead thing going on, and all the other religions have something to say about it.” “I'd rather you focus on what you do while you're alive,” God says. “That's what matters.” “Will we be rewarded in the afterlife for things we do here?” Moses asks. “No,” God says. “Then why be good?” Moses asks. “Why indeed?” Gods says. “Our Covenant is one you have to choose. It will not be easy. The point is to live well and try to make the world better than you found it. There's no special punishment or reward for either doing so or failing to do so.” “So, we're just trying to make the world better for everyone?” “Choosing to, or not. And you'll be surprised how many people won't get that.”

So, Moses finishes the Torah and grabs that and the Commandments and heads down to find the Jews have created a Golden Calf and are worshiping that. Moses loses his shit and thrown down the Torah and Commandments, destroying the calf. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Moses roars. “God literally just went into a nation and fought that nation for you and you decide to worship a fucking statue? Fucking Abraham sorted that one and... and... do you know nothing?” And Jethro says “They don't. They barely remember who they are, and we tried to tell them, but...” “Okay, listen,” Moses says, glaring. “I'm going back up the mountain. Jethro, Aaron, Tzipporah, Miriam, you guys start teaching everyone how to read. I'm going to go get our history and then I'll be back. Try not to worship anything else until I get back.” “Right, right, but we're thirsty,” some people say, so a very angry Moses hits a rock with his stick and causes water to spill forth from it. They start praising Moses, who does not correct them as he stomps back up the mountain.

“You should have told them I did the thing with the stick and the rock and the water,” God tells Moses as Moses gets back to writing. “They're going to think you did it with magic or something.” “They already think I do all the things,” Moses says. “You know how that ends,” God says, and Moses weeps because he does.

Moses comes down from the mountain. He presents the Commandments and the Torah. There's plenty of time to talk about the contents of both as they walk to Canaan. The Jews learn their history – the learn about Abraham's rebellion, Isaac's betrayal, and Jacob's children. They learn to read and to understand that they have to choose to be God's people and that it is an ongoing relationship, a promise to be good to show the world what it could be. They discuss and they argue and they learn how to kvetch and by the time they reach Canaan's borders they have chosen to be Jewish, have chosen to be Israelites. And then Moses says “I can't go with you.” “What?” asks the Jews. “I can't go with you,” Moses says. “You know this. You read the story. I can't be your parent or your shepherd – you all need to figure this stuff out, and you can't do that if you're expecting me to fix all your problems.” And the people that still thought that Moses had created water with a magic stick shuffled their feet nervously. “This isn't your fault,” Moses said, looking at them. “It's time to move forward, if that is your choice.”

And it was.

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flesymetahiq · 4 years

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Hi there!! If you are still accepting the romance Asks, may I request 1, 5, and 24? uwu

Hello! And sorry for late answers,and also thank you for asking me @vesuviansunshowers , I'm really happy that you interested :3 And, of course you can!

I hope I will answer correctly, because this is the first time I am trying to answer such questions, especially headcanons,it’s just about this that I worry most of all, sorry 👉👈

1.What drew your character to their LI and vice versa?

Oh well. Eleanor is such a character that she attaches great attention and importance to some positive aspects of the personality (no matter whose), and tries to justify the negative aspects.

In Lucio Elinor is attracted to what she sees in him as a very caring and vulnerable child, who just needs to be forgiven and understood, you just need to help somehow put him on the right path, because he does not quite realize the stupidity done. Probably by this she justified every one of his upsies, which influenced her development of sympathy for this extraordinary person.

Each time, she only got more convinced that Lucio needed to be given a chance and a helping hand, since he, being next to her, improved noticeably. Over time, he will still change and will be a slightly different person who henceforth will not make mistakes that will lead to the destruction of someone's life, and while she is next to him, she will only help him develop his positive qualities.

Elinor also drew Lucio's credulity and the fact that he did not spare his attention for her, and tried in every way and boldly express his sympathy.

What is repelled from Lucio, rather, that she is slightly, very slightly annoyed.Well, of course, a large percentage of his irresponsibility, the fact that he often tried to lie to her or did not agree on his actions of the past, she thought that he was doing this in order to somehow keep her close to him, and not spoil the positive impressions of him

It is also the fact that he often transferred his guilt to others, although this also applies with the unconsciousness of his silly acts.

At the expense of an overvalued opinion of himself.Sometimes she was repulsed and annoyed about that, and sometimes it was amusing or embarrassing. Elinor, tries to hint to him delicately that sometimes he goes too far (Yes, she does it very carefully, assuming that his vulnerability is like a time bomb).

5. How do they comfort each other when they're sad?

Elinor

Perhaps this is some kind of super power, but it is able to smell sadness at a distance of one hundred kilometers (joke). It’s just that she’s the most attentive to her beloved people, every unusual step of a person close to her can lead her to panic.She will be monitoring you and your behavior for some time, if you are sad, to make sure that she does not bother you and that you really need support now. Yes, her biggest fear is annoying and imposing, perhaps this is not good, but she too goes too far with understanding.

As for Lucio, to see him sad for her is shock. So something terrible really must be happened, first of all, she will not ask him about a specific reason, so as not to escalate the situation

Also, she can show him a couple of magic tricks that can clearly distract him and cheer him up a bit, or she can play him some beautiful melody on the piano, or maybe even sing.

At first, she will console him, show her kindness in every way and say how much she loves him. Hugs? Kisses? Yes! Of course! Elinor simply will not step away from him even a step even when he becomes feel better. She will offer him a little walk somewhere with her or read something with her, or do something that he likes, just to cheer him up. Then she will try to find out what happened and how to solve the problem that bothers him.

Lucio

It will be more difficult here, not because Lucio is bad at caring for his beloved people, but simply because,under no circumstances does Elmnor dare to seem sad to anyone, I should not talk about tears anymore. So most likely he won’t even notice that she’s sad. Although it’s not a problem, if he is just present, it will somehow help Elinor cheer up.

If he does suspect something, then Eleanor will most likely get a wave of questions about what happened? Why is she upset? Maybe someone offended her? To say that Elinor is confused after that is like saying nothing.But it will only console her.

Cookies?Of course, isn't that the most important thing that cheers you up?? As soon as the servants bring the cookies, Eleanor will begin to giggle loudly, while understanding Lucio's logic, perhaps he will confused a bit, but for the most part, this will calm him a little, because recently his sad magician giggles loudly and shines with joy now.

Most likely he will take her to some place where they will be left alone. He will remember all the cute and funny moments in his opinion that happened to him, how glad he is from the meeting, and how happy she makes him. Consider Elinor in the seventh heaven, because to hear this is tantamount to going to paradise.

What about hugs, kisses and confessions, this is not particularly worth telling, it goes without saying that Lucio is not Lucio without this, given that he himself always requires this type of attention.

24. Is their any moment that happens between them,that you know happens and just makes you melt?

If we talk about moments that relate completely to the canon and episodes in the game, the moment that made me melt is the moment in Wheel of Fortune, when Lucio meets you with tears in his eyes, saying that he was without you in a very terrible and incomprehensible place, for a very long time, it is clear that he was not just afraid to die or something else, he was afraid to be alone, without you, and as soon as you console Lucio, he is right there,calms down and doesn't even believe that it's you, but when he makes sure that you are really you, oh ..

Well, I believe that sooner or later they will admit to each other, without any hints, or anything like that, how much they love each other, and how much they mean to each other, if it's beautiful to draw everything in your head, then it’s quite possible to melt. :D

And again, thanks a lot for the questions and sorry if. made a mistake or answered incorrectly, have a nice day!

#the arcana #the arcane game #the arcana lucio #the arcana apprentice #the arcana headcanons #romance asks #the arcana asks #ask meme #the arcana ask meme #ask #thanks for the ask!#send asks #my apprentice #elinor oc #elinor the apprentice #the arcana elinor oc #so i'm sorry #👉👈

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ad-ciu · 5 years

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Celts in Pop-Culture: Extra Mythology, Part #1

So, in a likely feeble attempt to ward off the slowly crawling insanity and self-doubt fueled primordial terror of an Old Irish exam today, I have decided to spend this evening doing something I have been promising to do for months now: discuss the Extra Mythology video titled: ‘Celtic Myth: the Island of Destiny.’

Now, before I get into the specifics, I would like to preface this discussion with the fact that I did reach out to the people behind this project and let them know there were issues with the material and offered my assistance to revising or helping provide research for a corrections video if it was of interest to themselves. I was informed that they were drawing on the works of Peter Berresford Ellis, a journalist who is very notably not a trained Celticist, and were comfortable with their choice as it showed the variation in the stories, and that I would look forward to the corrections episode. As it has now been eleven months since the initial video’s publication and no correction video has arrived, I want to start my commentary on it.

Oh, and before we begin, thanks to Thrythlind for transcribing this video and the next one so I can comment on them more easily.

Now, the issue with the version of events presented by Extra Mythology, drawing on Ellis, is that it is primarily absolutely totally and factually made up. Which, you know, bad start. But, lets start in the big picture and then break it down. The events described in this text are a segment of Lebor Gabála Érenn, the ‘Book of the Taking of Ireland,’ (henceforth LGE) and Cath Maige Tuired, the ‘Battle of Mag Tuired.’ (henceforth CMT) These are two exceptionally interesting texts, and a great place to start when introducing someone to Irish saga material as Extra Mythology intended to do! However, there is a large problem: the version of events told by Extra Mythology is only loosely based in these texts.

As you can see here and here, there is not actually a tremendous amount of variation between the extant versions of these two stories. LGE has four medieval versions, each of which I have had the pleasure to read (and you can too! Volumes 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5!) and CMT has one medieval version which is one of my favorite texts. I highly suggest reading it, and you can find it here.

So, as we can see, right off the bat we are not dealing with a huge amount of variant texts with a bunch of differences. In fact, there are very few versions of LGE that are very consistent in this relevant section, and CMT has no variants. (There is a Early Modern version, but nobody has ever translated it... or really worked on it. Or done anything with it.) So, I would like to initially begin by pointing out that while Extra Mythology has explained to me that they chose this version of the text to show the different versions, there are none, and the version they used does in fact offer alternatives that are not authentic, not medieval, and made up by Ellis.

Now, to begin.

Void became form and form became Earth and out of the Earth sprang a tree. It was the mighty oak, watered by the river of Heaven, the Danu. And from that oak fell two acorns from which sprang the first of the gods: The Dagda and Brigid. They were the first children of the Danu. And over time the Children of the Danu grew and built four great cities on the banks of the sacred river.

Well, that’s all fictional. The ‘Creation of the World’ for Irish mythology is the Book of Genesis, these myths (if we can call them that, see: Ireland’s Immortals by Mark Williams) are set within a Christian world and a broader Christian cosmology. There is no tree, there is no ‘river of heaven’ named Danu since Danu is a person, in theory (as we never see her ‘on screen’ and might even be dead before the events of these stories), and there is certainly no gods coming out of acorns. And the Four Cities are on islands to the north of Ireland, they are not built along a sacred river.

Now! Where is this coming from? I presume this is Ellis trying to connect Danu, the ancestral figure of the Túatha Dé Danann with the Danube River in Germany which might have a linguistic connection, but no evidence to exists to suggest they were believed to be connected by the time of LGE.

Those cities flourished and in each of them was crafted a great artifact. In one was the Stone of Destiny which would shout with joy when a righteous ruler set his foot upon it. In another was Retaliator, the greatest sword ever forged. In the third could be found the Red Javelin which once thrown would find its mark no matter how its foes hid. And, finally, in the fourth city, lay the Cauldron of Plenty which could feed all the Children of the Danu and still never empty.

Now, this section is rather interesting as it is getting some things correct and then absolutely dropping the ball elsewhere. Let us compare this statement with the actual text of CMT where this description of the Four Treasures of the Túatha Dé Danann are named and described! (Using quotation marks to make it less confusing than if I used block-quotes for both the video and original texts)

“From Falias was brought the Stone of Fál which was located in Tara. It used to cry out beneath every king that would take Ireland. From Gorias was brought the spear which Lug had. No battle was ever sustained against it, or against the man who held it in his hand. From Findias was brought the sword of Núadu. No one ever escaped from it once it was drawn from its deadly sheath, and no one could resist it. From Murias was brought the Dagda's cauldron. No company ever went away from it unsatisfied.“

So, what is wrong here? Well, most of it. Lets go treasure by treasure.

The Stone: Extra Mythology claims that the stone would shout when ‘a righteous ruler set his foot upon it’ where as the actual text says it would make a noise when ‘beneath every king that would take Ireland.’ There is zero moral judgement here, the rock is just a prophecy stone that says when someone will be King of all Ireland. Very different.

The Spear: Extra Mythology calls this the ‘Red Javelin’ which is a name I have never heard before, and claims that the spear is unerring. In reality, the spear is just described as the spear that Lug had, and its function is far cooler in that battles cannot be won against the wielder. Pretty.... massive difference to tell the truth. (I think Extra Mythology via Ellis is talking about The Lúin, a colossal spear that distorts reality to always hit and always kill from an entirely different story)

The Sword: Extra Mythology claims the sword is named ‘Retaliator’ and it was simply the greatest sword forged. The reality describes this as the Sword of Núadu (who Extra Mythology will call Nuada) and that no one ever escaped from it, and no one could resist it when drawn. Vague, but way more detailed than what Ellis has informed Extra Mythology with. Furthermore, ‘Retaliator’ is a different sword, one named Fragarach (translated as Retaliator) which is Manannán mac Lir’s sword which can command the wind, cut through any armour, and will always kill someone it wounds. Super weird call there.

The Cauldron: Extra Mythology presents this as ‘The Cauldron of Plenty’ and that it can feed all of the Children of Danu. The reality just calls it The Dagda’s cauldron and that ‘no company ever went away from it unsatisfied’ which probably sounds very similar, but the difference is important. In a culture with such heavy emphasis on feeding and hosting as medieval Ireland, the importance I would put here is not just on the cauldron’s ability to feed everyone, but to satisfy everyone. There won’t be honour arguments over who got better food, there won’t be violence over issues of disparity, everyone will be satisfied and the host’s duty will be completed.

So, they got the treasures wrong. In fact, they just subbed out two of them for totally different magical items from different Irish sagas, and then sort of misrepresented the other two. Anyways, continuing.

But one day, The Dagda called the greatest of his children from all the cities and told them of their destiny. For it was not for them to remain by the sacred river Danu but to head to an island where the sun set. Before they went, though, Brigid offered them a warning. They would not be alone on this island. Others would try to make it theirs. With this warning, the Children of the Danu set out for their new home. Bringing with them their four great treasures for protection. Unsure of what they'd find on this Island of Destiny. Or so some say.

None of this happens,the only person who says this is Ellis I presume as it is not at all found in any of the medieval texts. We never get an explanation of why the Túatha Dé leave the Four Cities for Ireland, never gets explained.

Some say they came in a dark cloud from origins unknown and alighted on a mountaintop. Others still say they came from strange cities across the sea. Where they learned science and magical arts and when they arrived they burnt their ships behind them. Wagering all on the conquest of Ireland.

Oh, this is true! Our first factual bits of information here. So, yes, the variation here is actually mentioned in texts! That either the Túatha Dé arrived in ships of mist, or that this was just people misunderstanding that they had burned their ships when they arrived. Though, in both versions they still come from The Four Cities.

As they started to explore the misty plains of Inis Vale they encountered a curious people already living there: the Fir Bolg.

Also known as: relatives of the Túatha Dé Danann, and also the native people of Ireland at this time. So, the Túatha Dé have arrived, and found a bunch of native people living in the island they want, I am sure they will be very polite and get along well. Yeah? Well no, of course not, the Túatha Dé Danann are conquering colonizers, they’re not good people.

The Danu asked for half of Ireland to be theirs to settle and they could live in peace. But the Fir Bolg refused so battle was decided upon.

Firstly, ‘the Danu’? No. That would be like calling the Romans ‘The Romulus.’ Secondly, the Túatha Dé demanded half of Ireland from the Fir Bolg who, understandably, were not entirely okay with just giving up half of their land no questions asked to a foreign bunch of randoms who just rolled up and burned their ships.

LGE says, “They demanded battle or kingship of the Fir Bolg. A battle was fought between them, to wit the first battle of Mag Tuired” which if I am reading this correctly is consistant through the versions. So! The Túatha Dé rolled up, went ‘we demand either that we are in charge of you all [and your lands] or fight us about it.’ Very different.

But just to be clear, battle back then was a lot different to the way we think of it now. This was a matter of honor. The Children of the Danu made spears for the Fir Bolg to use. And the Fir Bolg crafted javelins for the Children of the Danu. They agreed on how many soldiers each side would bring. And where they would do battle. They even agreed on how many days they would fight for.

This is a weird misunderstanding or misrepresentation of the facts. Bres mac Elatha and Sreng meet each other and exchange the demands for Ireland, and then exchange spears with each other in a very homoerotic scene after handling and inspecting each other’s spears.

At this point we start getting into a long description of a battle which I’m going to pick specific things out of to discuss rather than going word for word.

Until the leaders of both sides, Nuada of the Children of the Danu and Sreng for the Fir Bolg, met in the center of the melee.

Sreng is the champion of the current high king of the Fir Bolg at the time, he isn’t the leader of the Fir Bolg. The Fir Bolg king at this time was Eochaid mac Erc.

Then, Sreng landed a titanic strike. His blade cleft through Nuada's shield and severed his right arm in one stroke. Nuada stumbled back, dazed. It looked as though the end had come. Then The Dagda himself intervened and spirited Nuada away.

Yes, Sreng cuts off Nuadu’s hand (or arm. Lám in Old Irish could mean either), but The Dagda isn’t even mentioned in this scene. That’s a super weird detail for Ellis (presumably it was him and not Extra Mythology) to make up.

They took him to Dian Cecht; God of Healing, Lord of Physicians; who crafted him a new arm of pure silver that moved like an arm of flesh and blood.

Also Creidne the smith. Everyone always forgets Creidne and I won’t stand for it.

Now you might think that the Children of the Danu would have quavered at the sight of their leader fallen in front of them. That they would break as their king was smote by the Fir Bolg champion. But, no, Bres, Warrior of the Danu, quick of mind and beautiful of form seized the king's right arm and raised it aloft. Angered by such a sight, the Children of the Danu swore vengeance. And plunged into the Fir Bolg ranks.

This is literally all fictional and I have no idea why Ellis would even make this up.

Finally, the Fir Bolg were all but defeated. 300 Fir Bolg warriors remained. Led by Sreng, their great champion. They took counsel and decided to fight to the last.

So this is sort of weird a) because we are glossing over the fact that in this version the Túatha Dé have essentially committed genocide here, and b) because other Fir Bolg escape this battle.

They quickly chose Bres as their leader for his valor and charm of mind.

So firstly, we don’t mention that now we are dealing with an entirely different text? Well, okay. And also sadly CMT is more misogynistic than this as CMT explains: “There was contention regarding the sovereignty of the men of Ireland between the Túatha Dé and their wives, since Núadu was not eligible for kingship after his hand had been cut off. They said that it would be appropriate for them to give the kingship to Bres the son of Elatha, to their own adopted son, and that giving him the kingship would knit the Fomorians' alliance with them, since his father Elatha mac Delbaith was king of the Fomoire.”

So, bit more complicated and has inter-tribal strife along gendered lines in reality.

But Bres was half Fomorian, a name we've not heard tell of yet in this tale. But we soon will. In his rule he acted more as a Fomorian than as one of the Danu. But, the reign of Bres and the war against the ancient and strange Fomorians is a story for next time.

Okay, again, still, ‘the Danu’ just catches my ear and confuses me every time. Bres has come up in this story before and is an entirely reasonable person, and like, most of the Túatha Dé big-names are part Fomorian. The Dagda, Nuadu, and Ogma are all Bres’ brothers and also sons of Elatha of the Fomori. And, ‘acted more as a Fomorian than as one of the Danu’ is just such a loaded statement. Yes, the Fomorians are raiding slavers who exploit less powerful tribal groups for personal wealth. The Túatha Dé are, shockingly, raiding slavers who exploit less powerful tribal groups and we have just seen them slaughter the indiginous population of Ireland and regulate them to a small portion of their original land. There is no moral connection here, the Fomorians and the Túatha Dé are just supernatural peoples hanging out in Ireland. One isn’t good and one isn’t bad.

Anyways, that’s the end of the first of two videos put out on this. Hopefully I shall do the next one this weekend.

In conclusion, what we see here is just a very strange misrepresentation of the events of LGE and a bit of CMT. Entire scenes are made up, ‘the Danu’ as a sacred river is... absolute nonsense. The idea of a world tree and gods born from acorns is fictional. So much of this is just fictional, an outright lie, or very misleadingly represented that I really cannot recommend this as an introduction to medieval Irish saga literature. I am disappointed that so little care or research was put into this by the Extra Mythology series, where when the original texts are available for free and in translation they instead chose a fictional version of the story made up by a journalist. It is incredibly irresponsible in the least, especially that when contacted the concerns on the accuracy and validity of the story they had told to their audience was brushed away.

Oh well, on to the second half of this story.

#extra mythology #irish mythology #celtic mythology #celtic myth #irish myth #celtic studies #mythology #túatha dé danann

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years

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Bruised | 01 (JB x OC)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life

Pairing: Jaebeom x photographer!OC

Warnings: Allusions to domestic violence, self-harm and depression, inferiority complex, low self-esteem

Summary: After years of not speaking to him, Alistaire is surprised when her childhood friend, Jaebeom, contacts her about the rumour of her returning to Korea. The rumour proves to be true and for a moment everything feels like the good old days.

Yet something has changed in the both of them, but mostly in him. He is not the kid Ali once knew, but someone completely new and with a past. What has happened in the years she was away? What made him turn out like this?

But most of all, can they survive the toxicity unconsciously influencing them both?

Author’s Note: This was originally a Taehyung fic, but I thought I would rewrite and prep it for actual publishing while simultaneously replacing Tae with JB. This is because, otherwise, I will have no connection to (essentially) his character in the tale. Lastly, it is also a splendid opportunity to share the second draft of the novel with you.

Masterlist

Next Chapter

Chapter 1 Alistair

April 7th Year 1

Every face in the extensive swallowing crowd is a blur, nothing distinguishing one person from the next. Meaningless chatter fills the buzzing air lightly scented by the aroma of the sea despite the actual destination being a few miles from the airport where the plane has just landed in a country formerly called ''home''. Truth be told, it has always been called so regardless of the many years spent away from it.

And in that time nothing has remained as it once was, that much is already clear from merely standing here at border control among hundreds of suitcases like the one held firmly on the right side, fingers wrapped around the British travel documents that have formed an escape from a place which is gladly left behind. Happily, a piece of Hell is traded for a slice of the past that is inherently different from what can be remembered, even though this is logical since this city is alien territory.

Nevertheless, there is one thing from the past that has apparently been continuous: him, the childhood friend that has unsuspectedly been found in a place of old.

One step further towards passing customs, towards getting the Visa checked and that stamp of allowance in the brand new passport containing a name that has been greatly discussed in the news in Korea and in the social circles of Britain, though it shall soon mean as much as the next one.

More waiting, thoughts wandering off to the Siheung mochi shop boy with the slight overbite when smiling and who had been the sole friend during the youth spent carelessly, free of the burdens that would come upon the return to the land of origin.

To the roots of a hellish life.

I wonder if he is still the same or would that be an idle wish?

Years have gone by and in all honesty, it is not to be expected for the lad with caramel skin to be the same because how can he be when both of us have grown up? The answer to the question would not be unknown if only the probably biggest regret in the entire twenty-one years of living did not exist, if only contact was maintained after the move to the United Kingdom.

The one digital conversation that surprisingly happened did not give any clues to go on to use in creating an image of the contemporary version of the companion unwillingly abandoned, so there is next to nothing known about how time and life has treated a best friend turned stranger. How the silent period apart has shaped character and shall influence the reunion on the horizon.

Another advance temporarily breaks the reverie to step in the direction of the birch counter behind which sits a stern-looking customs authority, blank yet overtly bored expression unwavering while checking the presented papers and finally putting a stamp in the little booklet, parting our ways with a stern nod.

The reminiscence begins again on the way to the hall of arrivals where a familiar comrade is supposedly waiting among the many shops and eateries. The thought that has been gnawing away at common sense continues to feed the sense of guilt which has grown immense due to the days spent apart without any indication as to well-being. Not that it was necessary to talk about since the personal problems would only be a burden to the other party and there was no solution to them until this opportunity arose.

Even a simple greeting was apparently too great a grace.

Mayhaps, if contact had been maintained, disgraced sneakers would not have committed the mistakes they have.

Have been safe from harm.

From lonely pain.

The effects of which were unconsciously pressed upon an absent supporting pillar.

Why did I leave you alone?

A couple of days ago, an extraordinary contact was established by the adult version of a forgotten childish soul by email. The moment weary eyes wandered to the newly arrived message after having answered a few job-related ones, a sharp intake of breath accompanied by a sudden giddiness guided the fingers rapidly sliding over the keyboard to the mousepad to click on the notification, having to make sure it was truly him and confirming it. It was astonishing to learn that the five years older chap still had the personal email address turned into a professional point of contact after all this time.

It meant he still had not forgotten about the one who was forced to go.

The rapid exchange, replying a few moments after one another and hence keeping the conversation flowing, consisted mostly of small talk and a little bit of catching up. The topics were pretty haphazard thanks to the attempt to try and cover as many subjects as possible within what felt like little time. Notwithstanding, it felt as if the childhood friend from Siheung was beating around the bush.

The text in the correspondence from his side contained hints to something bigger, continuously referring to it by words concealing the true intention without ever explicitly saying what wanted to be said. At a certain point, though it could also have been due to the throbbing of the right cheek and the echo of fighting parents downstairs in the salon of the country mansion, impatience overpowered a formerly ecstatic yet calm attitude and the confrontation was met head-on. ‘Beom, is there something you want to say?’

‘Huh? What do you mean?’ Even though the lad’s presence was only felt in the bedroom through the screen, the wondering look that would have appeared on a tanned face could almost be seen. Well, sight perceived the mental picture of Jaebeom as the kid that could look so questioning, so puzzled yet astonished by the world.

When not looking like a big grumpy cat.

It looked like some things still needed to be spelled out, although that tends to happen when it comes to men because some evidently need clarity. Withal, this does not mean that more explicit explanations always lead to positive outcomes. 'It’s just a hunch, but it feels like you have something to say.'

For a solid ten minutes, there was no answer. Henceforth, defeated by the radio hush likely signifying a chance of reconnecting was already lost, the bedchamber also functioning as an office was left in favour of acquiring a warm cup of coffee. Sneakily, to avoid the unworthy bastards roaming the lower floors. Luckily, the mission leading to the kitchen was successful, going back and forth without bumping into anybody.

A moment devoid of unjustified harm.

The relief felt at the fact of having avoided additional damage and the sensation of warmed fingers clamping a steaming mug of caffeine, returning to the room unscathed to a response from halfway across the globe, knows no likeness. It was the smallest yet sole piece of positivity gained in a long while.

Sighing with a hint of delight, a seat on the grey desk chair was once again taken, nipping at the hot drink before reading the received answer. An answer that made the liquid gold almost spill all over the keyboard. 'I heard this rumour about you coming back, so I thought I would pick up contact again. After all, how could I not if my friend will return to Korea? I mean, if it's true of course.'

That word, ''friend'', gave a sliver of hope when regarding it among the rest of the text. After the extended period of not hearing anything from the wrongful side, Jaebeom still considered the friendship established in the mochi shop and strengthened on the streets a long time ago as having survived the often destructive influence of being separated. Even though there was every right to be mad because contact was cut off after the departure.

To leave a worthless girl behind as she had him.

Notwithstanding, that was then and this was the present.

We were still partners in crime, weird as it might have sounded when pondering this thought later on the plane. 'Yes, I am.'

Over the course of the past few months leading to the email, enough money was gathered to be able to afford an own place overseas in South-Korea, in the country where the tale of two estranged saviours began, far from this disgusting house carrying the title of ''home''. Too much hurt had been had here and no more could be tolerated because, if it had not known an end, perchance the razor would have been pulled over the tender skin of the wrists a long time ago. Nonetheless, each day formed a new battle to fight, a new test to see whether the miserable faith in something better waiting in the future was true.

And it was, the long-awaited chance of escape presenting itself after hard work, pulling all-nighters editing photos and long hours contacting people in relation to jobs.

'Going back to Siheung?' Memories of the days our parents would go to the city together and take us with them to walk along the harbour and have a picnic in the Siheung Lotus Theme Park resurfaced, sight obscured by the phantom of lush blooming flowers and genuine laughter filling ears that had heard nothing but spite once the apartment next to Beom's was left behind.

A plausible assumption were it not for the fact it was not the planned destination of return because of the need for new experiences. Besides, a drastic change of life would perhaps keep the demons at bay long enough to figure it all out and find a definitive flight from them. 'No, I’m actually moving to Busan. The sea might do me some good.'

Despite living on a big island, never had the pleasure of living by the sea or any kind of water been experienced. Furthermore, due to the love of the child for the ocean forming part of today's persona, it was rather quickly decided to move to the harbour city of South-Korea.

'Really? I do so happen to live there too.' It was an odd thing to read and had to be reread word by word twice before the meaning of it became clear.

A reunion.

We could see each other again.

The anticipation accompanying the realization made the corners of the mouth curl up into an uncharacteristic delighted smile, the most sincere grin that had been formed in a long time. For all that was known, the boy with skin like honey still lived in the town that held shared memories yet now we had the chance of creating novel ones together as we would begin anew in a foreign place.

We would try again.

Together.

A fresh start with you will hopefully make me forget this hell. You always managed to take the pain away.

'You moved?' Eagerly, the rest of the story behind this sudden revelation was awaited, sipping on the caffeinated beverage of the gods that, naturally, had the opposite effect of the intended goal of bringing calmness to the enthusiastic composure.

'After grandmother passed away we moved to Busan because the south is cheaper. Dad found work there after he was fired.' The tranquillity nullifying the excitement set in, albeit it not thanks to the drink but by means of the curious absent sign of news about the city boy's mother, which struck as rather odd since the cheery lad used to talk about the lovely, according to the brightly told stories, woman all the time. The same went for the grandmother who basically raised Jaebeom, so seeing such a short notice about the dear old lady who always brought handmade mochis to us and made extra ones while we ran around town felt weird as well.

Putting the half-empty ceramic cup aside and with a sense of oppressing hollowness, the part that felt alive ignited the ideas of being to blame for not being there when a friend was obviously needed to help deal with the sorrow. Digits hovered above the keys, doubtful of what to write in response since nothing could be deemed sufficient in conveying the sincere apologetic feelings.

Eventually, they settled on typing out the idea that seemed to be the best of them all in that regard. 'I know it is too late, but I'm sorry for your loss. How is your mother?'

'I don't want to talk about it. I can pick you up from Gimhae if you want. You don't want to get lost, do you?' A dark thought occurred and directly it was understood why there was no elaboration on the situation concerning the two women.

They abandoned him as well.

Forced by Death.

A grim repeat of the goodbye nine years ago.

I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. Jaebeom, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But maybe I can make it up to you. I have to.

Maybe over time, there will come a moment to open up to willingly talk about it, but until then there will be no questions for they also have the potential of ruining the chances of righting the unintentional wrongs of the past.

The heavy topic was disregarded in favour of something positive. Skimming over it felt selfish in spite of silently agreeing to do so, especially because of the urge to stay afloat a bit longer. Swim a bit longer in an amiable reality before sinking down the dark spiral again come morn after a night of , hopefully a few hours of nightmare-filled sleep. 'That is much appreciated. Maybe you can show me around the city a bit?'

'I am already looking forward to it. I have to go now, but I'll certainly talk to you later.'

In the days after that digital re-encounter despite the abyss of separating miles, we almost spoke on a daily basis to talk the details of the future journey through, Jaebeom inquiring by mail multiple times like Mother Goose if all the essentials had been packed and at least double checked. Still as caring as always beneath the tough exterior, so it would seem. It felt just like the good old days, as if nothing had changed aside from having grown older.

That was at least already one thing that made it feel like the right decision had been made and gave cause for hoping that many of those tender moments would come to pass.

A correct assumption.

Partially.

Now that work has been taken up as a photographer, there is the freedom of going wherever is desirable. It is unlimited, empowering. And, as it would seem, the road that preluded a return to the only place in the world that could truly be called ''home'', in spite of being the daughter of a British-Irish couple.

Father is an ambassador for the Crown who was stationed in Siheung, where he and his wife bought an apartment in a quiet street filled with independent shops among which was a little rice cake shop run by an old lady. The place where Mother gave birth to a daughter.

It so happened to be close to where Beom lived with his parents and grandmother. Next door, in fact. The tall tough-looking boy with the goofy smile and slight overbite obviously showing when aggravated was the first friend ever made and most likely the only one. Nobody across the seas has ever been deemed worthy to be called thus nor has stayed long enough to even pass the unconscious assessment.

Just before high school would start, Father was called back to England and since his daughter was done with primary school, it was insisted upon a return to the island nation was made. The days in anticipation of the change of scenery were filled with protest, none of them to any avail, because what could a little girl truly accomplish alone? Henceforth, the United Kingdom was travelled back to and ordained the vicious punishment of having to spend the rest of a life that would soon turn miserable there. All the while dreaming of going back someday and escaping the aristocratic hell.

Thanks to an education at home and the embassy, where a private teacher was hired to provide lessons, it was possible to skip a year in high school since the mind was ahead of everyone else’s. Because of this, a bachelor in English could be achieved early at London University, completely according to the wishes of the gruesome puppeteers.

Such was the plan in any case, until the passion for photography was found and it was decided to pursue a career in that, spiting all the expectations of a future that had never been created at one's own hand.

Finding a good and trustworthy agency to work under proved somewhat difficult, but after putting multiple hours fuelled by coffee into online research one that was looking for freelancers was found and applied to. After sending in a barely existent résumé and visiting the agency for a second interview, it lead to being hired so that now the job of a freelance lensman is proudly added to a fairly short curriculum vitae.

Nevertheless, thanks to some well-paid assignments, and a little bit of help from the man and woman who once served as legal guardians, it was possible to leave the native country and depart for the second home in the world.

The only shelter from the ever-lasting storm of reality.

At long last, it was finally possible to return to the grumpy though sweet-hearted Siheung boy.

#GOT7 #GOT7 fanfiction #JB #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 x OC

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garden-ghoul · 5 years

Photo

This week on Overground: Evil City we find out what a union station actually is, hammer out some of the material impacts of the Evil City, name the worst subway line in existence, and, uh, assassinate some labor rights activists. Episode is 53 minutes, sorry, we have cannot shut up disease. Transcript below the cut!

GHOUL: Okay, we are rec-ording.

VERA: Yahaa.

GHOUL: Let’s do our welcome.

VERA: Nyee.

GHOUL: I’m from Boston.

VERA: And I’m from Newark.

BOTH: Welcome…

GHOUL: …to the Overground.

VERA: [at the same time] …to the Evil City. [wheezes]

GHOUL: No, we’ll keep that.

[Theme plays: ‘Bolt Cutter’ by Doomtree]

GHOUL: Aaaall right. So, last time we made one TRULY horrible subway line, [Vera laughing] which is bad, very, very bad. And properly should be two separate subway lines, but isn’t.

VERA: Mhm!

GHOUL: And the trains, you know, are each other. And we added a couple of subway stops too. As is our…

VERA: [with relish] Municipal Intersection.

GHOUL: Ahh! Municipal Intersection.

VERA: Not named for an intersection of streets.

GHOUL: But an intersection of buildings.

VERA: Horrible.

GHOUL: And… as is our custom, we were thinking about, but not actually creating content for, this evil city, you know, out of respect for the listeners. So Vera actually wrote down in their notes some questions that we’re going to consider today.

VERA: I did.

GHOUL: So, what order do you want to do these questions in?

VERA: I can just read all of them out. …That’s stupid.

GHOUL: Pick one that’s cool. Yeah, don’t read all of them out at once. Overwhelm the listeners.

VERA: [softly, sinisterly] Yeess.

GHOUL: Oh, I do think first we should place Union Station, and we should talk about what happened to the union railroad.

VERA: Yeeeeeesssssss. Yes.

GHOUL: We might need another rail line. Would you like to draw it?

VERA: I think it would be fun if it was like [awful creaking noise that indicates Vera is drawing a line, probably northward from downtown]. I don’t know. Maybe just [shorter awful creaking noise that probably indicates the line is shorter]. That’s kind of dumb. I don’t know.

GHOUL: Partially make it stupid, but also think about where it would be useful to have rail lines, and where there’s a lot of high density of stuff.

VERA: Uhh, what were we saying were places that stuff was? We’ve got… downtown… we’ve got… the Silver City over there. [presumably the Palisades]

GHOUL: Here we have refineries and industry.

VERA: And…

GHOUL: Where was the place where all the railroads met up?

VERA: You’d think that freight rail would have a lot of stuff in the industrial sector, and passenger rail might be downtown.

GHOUL: I assume the passenger rail goes along the coast. Obviously there’s also something upriver, but. You know.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: I mean, upriver I would assume there’s mountains and I would assume there’s mines, because that’s how rivers work. But maybe that’s just me being partially from the mountains.

VERA: Aaah.

GHOUL: Railroad bridges!!

VERA: Huhuhuhuhuu.

GHOUL: This is the city of bridges.

VERA: Yeah, it has so many fucking stupid bridges. I kind of want to notate some of them.

GHOUL: Oh, yeah, sure.

VERA: Obviously we’ve got bridges there and there… [pointing out two of the five bridges already on the map]

GHOUL: And one at 9th Crossing Boulevard.

VERA: There and there…

GHOUL: …3, 4, 5… so we need… at least three more…

VERA: At least four… Yeah, and then I’m not sure all of these are ‘crossings.’

GHOUL: Right, some of them are just bridges. [laughs]

VERA: Like that one?

GHOUL: What, Nusquam Street Bridge?

VERA: Clearly it’s called Nusquam Street Bridge, not, I don’t know, Third Crossing or whatever. So.

GHOUL: Hang on, is this over here [the bridge north of Municipal Intersection] the First Crossing?

VERA: Hmmm.

GHOUL: Or is there one even further downriver that’s really annoying when steamships try to come into harbor?

VERA: Yes. Yes! This is Evil City, and it’s very stupid.

GHOUL: Do you call those trestle bridges, the ones that can rise up? [looks it up and cuts the audio lol] Okay, the thing we’re thinking of is a bascule bridge.

VERA: Sometimes referred to as a drawbridge. Okay.

GHOUL: So I think First Crossing should be a drawbridge. And they have to stop traffic so often because ships are always trying to come into the harbor between 1st and 2nd Crossings. [laughing]

VERA: Ahh, that’s so stupid. I love it.

GHOUL: Also, where… union stations are generally a little ways out of downtown, right?

VERA: Mmmm. [again, but in the intonation of ‘I dunno’] Mmmm. I don’t know because there isn’t one in Newark. There is just Penn Station and Broad Street Station.

GHOUL: Where am I thinking of…? Worcester! I don’t think there’s one in Boston either, but there’s one in Worcester.

VERA: Hm. And it’s a little ways out of downtown?

GHOUL: No, Union Station actually is downtown because it’s where you come into if… it’s like the hub for passenger trains.

VERA: Yeah. That’s kind of what I figured it would be. So, yeah, okay.

GHOUL: You know, South Station Boston might actually be a union station, but there’s two of them so they had to call them North and South Station instead of Union Station. I… probably should look that up.

[looks it up]

GHOUL: A union—! A union station is not a station built by a union railroad company, it’s a union of railroads. Did you know that and you didn’t tell me?

VERA: I didn’t know it, but now that you say it it makes a lot of sense.

GHOUL: Ohhh, my gosh. Okay, in that case, what that means is we have to postulate the existence of a bunch of local railroads from the 1800s or whatever that all unionized at Union Station. Which would basically just be somewhere that three or four different railroads would all want to go. Which would probably be downtown.

VERA: Yeah. I do feel like maybe we should just move Municipal Intersection a ways down one of the lines and have that spot…

GHOUL: Or we could just make more horrible intersections of different lines.

VERA: That’s a much better plan, you’re so right.

GHOUL: I was thinking we could put Union Station just north of Municipal Intersection on the north side of the river.

VERA: Mm.

GHOUL: And then have another line going through there.

VERA: Yeah, yeah, sure.

GHOUL: The problem is there’s nowhere non-stupid for this line to go, so it has to go somewhere stupid.

VERA: [sarcastically] Oh nooo.

GHOUL: I was just thinking of a drawbridge that sometimes has a train on it, and going insane.

VERA: Oh, that’s so stupid.

GHOUL: But I think it goes under the river there. [at 1st Crossing] It’s okay. [laughs]

VERA: You know, that’s extra funny, because that’s like ‘yeah, we bored a tunnel for the rail but cars can’t use it, they still have to go over the stupid drawbridge.

GHOUL: Yeah! Does it intersect with the green line again, or does it… it’s possible that the terminus of the green line is just another stop on this. Soon it’s going to be time to tape another couple pieces of paper on the bottom.

VERA: You know, maybe we should do that now.

GHOUL: Sure.

GHOUL: Hi, we’re back. We taped two more pieces of paper and doubled the size of the map. I… [laughing] I think that we should make the green line from the Palisades go down to a beach.

VERA: You’re right.

GHOUL: ‘Cause that’d be just fucking typical.

VERA: You’re so right. Eugh. [sarcastically soft and sweet voice—henceforth ‘rich person voice’] The fucking Coastal Line.

GHOUL: Eeuugh.

VERA: [continued rich person voice] Isn’t it beautiful?

GHOUL: And in fact it is. What’s the beach called? What’s a good terminus name, because this is going to be Palisades to Something Beach or whatever. Um, it could be named after a town that was down there, and now it’s part of the Evil City but it used to be a town.

VERA: I just keep thinking ‘Bramble.’ See, Bramble Beach is like, mm, that’s a good beach, but it’s not the kind of beach that rich people love to go to.

GHOUL: Although if a town was fucking brambly it could be called Bramble Hill or something.

VERA: Mm. Brambling Hill?

GHOUL: Brambling Hill. [both crack up] That’s too Rich People. Sorry, did rich people found this town actually? They want to live out of town, but close enough that they can drive there in a carriage.

VERA: Right. [rich person voice] ‘And I want a seaside view…’

GHOUL: [likewise rich person voice] ‘Like they have at the Palisaades, darling.’

VERA: [lol] Now imagine… [train driver PA announcement voice] Coastline… Palisades to Brambling Hill.

GHOUL: Is it Brambling Hill or Brambling Hill Beach?

VERA: Brambling Hill.

GHOUL: Maybe the stop north of Brambling Hill is Brambling Hill Beach.

VERA: Oh, that’s bad, I love it. Yes. …Oh, I was also thinking that the orange line could have some stupid branch thing going on.

GHOUL: YEAH stupid branches baybeeee!

VERA: [laughing] Yeah, I know, you’re from Boston.

GHOUL: [pffff] All right, would you like to draw a stupid branch of the orange line?

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: Well, we can… we should mix our systems here. We should also have one that, downtown it’s the same fucking train and for most of it it’s the same fucking train, but they’re still called two different lines.

VERA: [very softly] Yes. [Ghoul chuckling wickedly] YES. The worst of both worlds.

GHOUL: The worst of both worlds. …Mmm. Vera is drawing a highly stupid kind of hook-shaped nonsense. This subway line thinks it’s the river.

VERA: [hmhm laugh]

GHOUL: And I will be clear, on a map there is no reason for it to look like this. We’re not drawing a map that is to scale. [laughing] Aahh I really like that one of the branches is super long and awful and the other one has three stops on it.

VERA: Mhm! Mhm!

GHOUL: Okay, okay, now we have a plan, what are the lines that are—is there a line that’s almost exactly the same as the long orange line but it’s a different color?

VERA: Mmmyes. [Ghoul laughing] Yeah, goes that way at the end. [don’t know what way this is because we didn’t keep this] Also, is it part of the heretofore-unnamed-and-colored line that’s at Union Station or…

GHOUL: When you say part of… hang on, does it go like this? [outlines the monstrously stupid yellow line loop that crosses both 1st and 2nd Crossings]

[a beat, and then both start laughing like loons]

GHOUL: Oh, that’s bad, baby.

VERA: Oh, that’s so dumb.

GHOUL: It takes a small detour to serve this area up here. [weird yellow shark fin thing in south Evil City]

VERA: Mhm. Oh, I love it.

GHOUL: [laughing while trying to talk] What if they have the same terminus too!!

VERA: Ehh! Yes!

GHOUL: Where’s the other terminus.

VERA: Hmm. Hmmmmm. [‘here?’ intonation] Mm?

GHOUL: [wheezingly] Also a stop on the orange line.

VERA: Is that too much?

GHOUL: Evil City!

[both laughing]

VERA: Ah, I love it.

GHOUL: But it’s the terminus, so if you get this train it’s not going to go on.

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Right.

VERA: No. Also, you can’t transfer for free.

GHOUL: No. Obviously not.

VERA: They’re going in different directions! You have to cross the platform!

GHOUL: Fuck. That’s true. And you think it’s like, oh, X Station to Y Station, yeah, there’s track between those stations. Nooooo. You have to go around the loooong wayyy. [laughing]

VERA: Uh-huhhhh.

GHOUL: All right, so now we have the yellow line, which goes south and is mostly the same as the southern 2/3 of the orange line.

VERA: However, Worse.

GHOUL: Mhmmm [chef’s kiss].

VERA: Oh, this is great. Folks, you love to see it.

GHOUL: We love to draw it.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: Um, I want to name the termini of the yellow line.

VERA: [heheheehee] Yeahhh. Yeah. Yeah. Same.

GHOUL: Also, I think at this stop [probably the western end of the orange line from before we drew the extension] you can transfer to a commuter rail, but you know, it’s a different… oh, my gosh, have you seen… there’s this really stupid part of the Red Line in Boston.

VERA: Oh, I have not.

GHOUL: [laughing] I need to show it to you. [typing as ghoul looks up a map] Okay, you see down here, so Ashmont is actually the terminus of this line. You say, ‘going to Ashmont/Braintree.’ Right.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: But! There is more Red Line after that that goes to Mattapan! [almost incoherent with laughter] You just have to transfer!

VERA: Oh, that’s so dumb.

GHOUL: Also, see, between Park Street and Downtown Crossing you can just walk there. So it’s a different station but you can walk to it. Ashmont is just two stations and you have to walk between them and the trains don’t go there! [nearly weeping with laughter] That’s some Evil City bullshit right there, Boston.

[editor’s note: having looked this up since then, I THINK you can just take the lift up one level to catch the Mattapan Trolley, like a normal transfer between lines. But it’s still pretty funny. The Mattapan Trolley is a tiny little one-car orange trolley and it’s the cutest thing.]

VERA: Mmm. Oh, that’s delightful. That’s delightful, thank you. Thank you for showing me things about Boston that are dumb. I love to see them. I told you about things in New York that were dumb last session, so.

GHOUL: Yes. So that’s what I’m proposing we do with one of the lines on here. I think either the red line or the stupid little nub of the orange line.

VERA: Mmm. Mm. They both have extreme merits. I feel like the red line is already just soo stupid. Like it kind of stands on its own.

GHOUL: [laughing] All right. We’ll do the orange line, then. But it’s also quite short after that.

VERA: Oh, yeah. Yeah.

GHOUL: So it’s like,

VERA: Still extremely useless. …uh, so.

GHOUL: We really need to name some more termini, my friend.

VERA: Yes, we have got to. We’re just drawing lines willy-nilly like ‘Oh! We never have to do anything that’s not this!’

GHOUL: Yellow/orange terminus. What’s down here?

VERA: Mmm. I feel like down there is a city that’s really kind of a city in its own right but it is…

GHOUL: It’s still very much part of the Evil City Metro Area.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: Because there’s a subway that goes right downtown to there.

VERA: Right. It does have its own downtown, but…

GHOUL: But we scoff at it like we scoff at Worcester.

VERA: [laughs] You scoff at Worcester, I don’t know enough about Worcester to scoff at it.

GHOUL: One day you’ll scoff.

[both laughing]

GHOUL: Right, and I think it’s a former industrial city that was just founded to have a place to put the foundries or whatever. But now… if it weren’t part of the Evil City Metro commuter radius… You know how they’re trying to rebrand Durham as hip and happening?

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: So they’re trying to rebrand themselves as hip and happening, but everyone’s just like ‘Oh, that’s in Evil City, right? That’s like, a neighhborhood in Evil City.’ ‘Nooo! We’re our own city!’

GHOUL: Um, and… what is that city called.

VERA: Hmm. Okay. So, it was founded for industrial reasons.

GHOUL: Yeah.

VERA: Horrible, horrible, horrible.

GHOUL: What are some suburbs of Newark called? [Vera hesitates] If you don’t know any suburbs—if you like Newark so much, name 5 of their suburbs.

VERA: Well, Belleville and Bloomfield…

GHOUL: What the fuck, stop naming things pretty names!

VERA: Nutley, Montclair… Maplewood… Orange, South Orange, um, West Orange, [audibly smiling] East Orange, no North Orange.

GHOUL: [whispered] Stupid.

VERA: Yeah! I don’t know, the thing is that I do feel like even cities that are just founded to be horrible garbage dumps … [ghoul laughing] Like, they don’t name them Horrible Garbage Dump #1, Horrible Garbage Dump #2.

GHOUL: Well, maybe they do in the Evil City! [both laughing] No, we should strive for realism.

VERA: Realism in all things… except… what our subway maps look like.

GHOUL: It’s… it’s called… fucking Blossomtown or some shit. But it’s also based around an iron foundry.

VERA: Something less dumb.

GHOUL: Oh my gosh, the people from this town really hate that Evil City used to have the nickname Silver City, because it actually came from the really, really nice steel products that this iron foundry put out. [Vera laughing delightedly] And they’re like ‘No, Evil City didn’t make those! We made them! We’re not part of Evil City! They can’t just have their name based on our products!’ But they did.

VERA: They diiid.

GHOUL: I want to call it Birchbrake for some reason.

VERA: Hm, I like it.

GHOUL: All right, we’re calling it Birchbrake.

VERA: I also like that it’s called Birchbrake when I feel like birch is one of the worst possible things to make a firebrake out of? On account of it’s wildly flammable?

GHOUL: Maybe it’s a brake for the birches, so that you surround the birches with a firebrake. But it’s actually not named after that, it’s named after a guy named Birchbrake.

VERA: Ahh. Typical.

GHOUL: All right. So we know that Birchbrake is famous for—I mean, it’s famous for being a suburb of the Evil City—but it’s famous for its iron foundry and its really cool—I think they actually do steel jewelry and it got really popular at some point.

VERA: Mmm, I like that, I like that. Uh, want to name some other stupid bullshit.

GHOUL: Yeah! Yeah, baby!

VERA: How about the other yellow line terminus, which is also just…

GHOUL: A normal stop on the yellow line.

VERA: And a normal stop on the orange line.

GHOUL: Okay, so what’s there?

VERA: So far we’ve got some real industrial areas up north by the river and down south by Birchbrake.

GHOUL: I imagine that between those two things there is or used to be a lot of woods.

VERA: Yeah. Right, it’s probably pretty… well, I don’t know, it’s in the city really, still. The thing is that I’m still thinking a bit… I still have the subway/commuter rail distinction very… in my head, which is probably not true?

GHOUL: Right, in fact large parts of the Green Line in Boston are aboveground. Most of the Green Line is aboveground.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: So it really is more of a commuter rail, but here’s the key thing. It doesn’t cost as much as the commuter rail.

VERA: Ha-ha! Yeees! I definitely have that distinction a lot clearer in my head, ‘cause when you transfer from the commuter rail into New York City to the New York City subway it’s like, these are two very different experiences.

GHOUL: Right, right, I do… the thing that I like about the Newark Metro Area’s public transportation and rail system is that it’s still a patchwork of several different systems.

VERA: Yeah, it really is.

GHOUL: Right, you’ve got PATH, you’ve got the actual metro, you’ve got Long Island Rail Road, there’s a bunch of shit.

VERA: You’ve got NJ Transit Rail, which is the one I would actually take into the city if I wasn’t taking PATH.

GHOUL: Yeah, that’s like four fucking railroads. Do they all appear on the same map?

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Because they’re run by different companies.

VERA: Right, also they operate on extremely different scales.

GHOUL: Hm. But would you, on a map of the New York City Metro, just mark stations where you can transfer to any of the three or four other railroads?

VERA: Yeah. Yeah, you definitely would be like ‘Yeah these are some PATH transfer stops…’ Grand Central you can take the LIRR… Penn Station I think could take the LIRR or NJ Transit.

GHOUL: I like how it sounds like ‘Lear.’ The point is that we were trying to figure out what is between Birchbrake and the Evil City proper. And we were saying it used to be all forest but now it’s probably towns. I think it’s good if there’s just small stands of trees still and they just have them? But there’s sort of a weird town soup also.

VERA: Yeah!

GHOUL: There should be a place where there’s still a patch of forest and it’s really dense and tangly and impossible to walk through and just no-one’s bothered to cut it down because it’s in a weird place between town boundaries and nobody actually wants to claim it because it’s going to be a whole bunch of work to actually develop that… So it’s just not part of town and it’s a weird little patch of forest that’s not part of a town.

VERA: Mhm. Although also I am kind of finding it difficult to conceptualize that this whole area has not been clearcut several times in the past hundred years.

GHOUL: But the thing is, it’s like three acres though.

VERA: Yeah—maybe it’s also kind of down a ravine or something?

GHOUL: Yeah, yeah, it’s three acres, it’s in a ravine, no-one wants to try to develop that. Someone—they tried to cut it for fuel a while back but people kept getting lost in there. [Vera laughing] Small but incredibly dense.

VERA: [happily] Mm. A little forest that eats people!

GHOUL: [likewise happily and sweetly] A little forest that eats people!

VERA: In the middle of a big old city that eats people.

GHOUL: It’s perfect.

VERA: I love it now.

GHOUL: People found towns 1) as a place to live, or 2) as a place to make stuff.

VERA: You know, maybe it was agricultural.

GHOUL: [smiling] Agriculture! Aw! Right, and they did clearcut a whole bunch of forest and it was fucked up.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: And the forest got really angry at them.

VERA: Mhm. [reading end of storybook to 4-year-olds voice] And now there’s just one little bit of forest!

GHOUL: That really hates them~~!

VERA: And it will eat you if you go in there.

GHOUL: Right, it condensed all the anger of an entire forest that got clearcut into one extremely tiny three-acre plot in a ravine.

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: There’s a huge chain link fence around that forest with barbed wire on top, because everyone who fucking goes in there vanishes!

VERA: [pfft!] Aaah.

GHOUL: [laughing] And they’re just not dealing with it! …Um, okay, so, agricultural town. What if we invent a stupid name and then tweak it until it’s less stupid?

[editor’s note: there was a WHOLE diversion here about the town called Crowsfield near Anisport and corvids playing chess, which I have omitted for everyone’s sanity. Just trust me that this next thing does not come from nowhere.]

GHOUL: All right, it’s called Bishop. —Wait, do we want to postulate the existence of Christians? I’m not sure about that.

VERA: Right, yeah.

GHOUL: We name it after a different chess piece… not rook. It could just be called Castle, though. A town that’s called Castle inexplicably is pretty good. They founded it as a small homesteading town, right, and they just named it Castle.

VERA: Kind of as a joke.

GHOUL: Kind of as a joke. But then it stuck.

VERA: Yeahh. And people are like ‘Okay, where’s the fucking castle?’ [through gritted teeth] ‘It was a jo~oke.’

GHOUL: They had to build a castle. But it fucking sucks and it’s a casino.

[both cracking up]

VERA: [lovingly] Oh, of course it sucks and it’s a casino. There we go, thank you.

GHOUL: Yeah! [laughing] Um, I do want it to have some stupid bullshit like, ‘This is Castle, it’s the smallest one, then there’s North Castle, West Castle, South Castle.’

VERA: [adoring sigh] I like this.

GHOUL: Which is the main one? Like, if you say you’re going to Castle, people are like, ‘Oh you mean North Castle?’. Or…

VERA: West…

GHOUL: West Castle.

VERA: Yes.

[pen uncapping noise, scribbling sounds]

VERA: West Castle to Birchbrake…

GHOUL: Yeah, and then we have, Ninth Crossing to Birchbrake. Hang on. Which… direction… is the orange branch a branch of. Is it a—like, can you get there [Valentine Institute] from Birchbrake or can you get there from Ninth Crossing.

VERA: Um…

GHOUL: Or! Is that the parent branch. And you can get both of those places but you can’t get—[laughing]

VERA: Oh… Yeeees.

GHOUL: [while still laughing] Like, if you want to—

VERA: That tiny little three stop line is the parent line.

GHOUL: And if you want to get from Birchbrake to Ninth Crossing, you have to transfer. At this stop that’s just southwest of Linden.

VERA: Delightful.

GHOUL: And obviously, you have to pay another fare.

VERA: Obviously.

GHOUL: Unless you go all the way of the orange line. So, it’s such a short thing that most people just do that usually.

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: That’s the only station where you don’t have to pay to transfer from the south orange line to the north orange line. [laughing again]

VERA: Ahhh… [ghoul still laughing] Folks… you love to see it.

GHOUL: Alright. I wanna name the terminus and the transfer station. ‘Cause that’s some good bad bullshit.

VERA: Mhm. Mhm.

GHOUL: I think… It’s quite possible that what’s down here [spoilers: Valentine Institute] is actually suburb?

VERA: Yeah. —Oh! There’s got to be some universities somewhere.

GHOUL: Oooo! It would be highly stupid and cute if that were a university. You just like—to transfer from one half of the station to the other, you have to actually walk through some of the tunnels that like, belong to the university? Because the branch was built after the university, and like, they couldn’t—they couldn’t actually get permission to build through the university’s underground space. So they just have people walk through the existing tunnels under the university.

VERA: [sharp inhale] Yes. [ghoul starts laughing] It is a free transfer though.

GHOUL: [still cracking up] It is a free transfer though!

VERA: The only one!

GHOUL: There are some other free transfers.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: It’s just like, half and half and you never know if it’s going to be free or not? So sometimes if you’re planning an unfamilar route you just have to like, google how many transfers you’re going to have to make, and whether they’ll be free?

VERA: Mhm.

GHOUL: So that you know how much money to put on your fare card.

VERA: Mhm, mhm. Because of course half the fare machines don’t work.

GHOUL: Of course! I mean, a lot of stations just don’t have fare machines, also.

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: Or! Here’s the thing: if you want to use the fare machine in a station, you have to go out, use the fare machine, and then come back in, paying a fare. Which is how it is, in fact.

VERA: Yes…

GHOUL: Like, there’s never fare machines in the station past the turnstiles. You have to leave the station to use the fare machine.

VERA: Of course…

GHOUL: A lot of the transfer stations that aren’t free just don’t have fare machines.

VERA: Yeah. [ghoul starts laughing] What a garbage fucking city…

GHOUL: Charlie Off The MTA.

[both cry-laughing fondly]

GHOUL: Okay, what’s the university called.

VERA: Um…

GHOUL: Is it named after a town, or does it have, some kind of like, stupid, like you know how some universities are named after like, allegories or some shit?

VERA: Mm.

GHOUL: Like, The University of the Incarnate Word. Right?

VERA: Christ.

GHOUL: That’s in San Antonio.

VERA: Mmm, normal.

GHOUL: [laughing] I know, right? Like, what does that fucking mean? It sounds cool as shit, but I love a university with a dumb allegory name.

VERA: Right. Um. I mean, that’s definitely a Christian university.

GHOUL: Right. But like, you could—or like, from Night Vale, the University of What It Is?

VERA: Good.

GHOUL: It doesn’t have to be an allegory, it could just be named after a town.

VERA: Right, see, you know the college I went to was called the New Jersey Institute of Technology, which is—

GHOUL: That’s normal.

VERA: Just the normalest possible name.

GHOUL: Right. But we haven’t named the Evil City, or the ?state? it’s ?in?. So, we can’t really do that, we’d have to name it after a town.

VERA: Right, and we don’t want to do that. Um… Hmmm…

GHOUL: It could be named after a person, but then we’d have to make a person.

VERA: I mean, we could come up with some other fucking… stupid-ass old rich families that suck.

GHOUL: [emphatically] Mm!

VERA: See, that’s the one thing we can name.

GHOUL: The Valentines.

VERA: [snorts] Are you perhaps thinking of the Ballantines? From Newark?

GHOUL: Yeah, no that’s why I said that.

VERA: Oh okay.

GHOUL: I was trying to disguise it!

VERA: Ah! Valentine University… Oh, we were also tossing around other…

GHOUL: Valentine Institute of Science and Technology… VIST… Wait, what if it’s the Valentine Institute of Science Technology and Arts and everyone calls it VISTA.

VERA: Well, okay! There we go.

GHOUL: Is the stop. Called VISTA. Or is it called Valentine Institute of Science Technology and Arts. Or is it just called Valentine.

VERA: Or is it called Valentine Institute.

GHOUL: Valentine Institute.

VERA: Imagine you’re looking at a subway map. Which looks weird and eviller: VISTA, all caps, or Valentine Institute.

GHOUL: I think, it’s not called VISTA because that’s what people call it in colloquial speech.

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: So if someone was like, ‘Oh, yeah, you just have to take the train down to VISTA and transfer to the nub line or whatever,’ and you’re like, ‘There’s not a stop called that…?’

VERA: Right, and you try to ask someone else on the train and they’re like, ‘Just get off at VISTA.’

GHOUL: And you’re just like ‘what???’ You would think that people would call this stop Valentine, but they don’t.

VERA: No, they call it VISTA.

GHOUL: It’s not like they’re looking at the subway map,

VERA: No.

GHOUL: and nicknaming the subway stops from that.

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Alright, wonderful. So we have Ninth Crossing to Valentine Institute, and Valentine Institute to Birchbrake. [Vera laughs a bit] That’s some good shit.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: What’s the nub terminus?

VERA: Hm. Let’s see. It’s in the bend of the river, or the, not the bend, the,

GHOUL: Yeah.

VERA: the bit.

GHOUL: We could definitely have a stop called Riverbend that’s like, not the terminus but it’s in there.

VERA: Oh, yeah. [snorts] I mean, we could have like seven stops named Riverbend. The river just keeps bending.

GHOUL: [overlapping] Right, and that’s why it’s funny that there’s only one stop named Riverbend, they had to fight for it. [Vera laughs] Or, we put the one stop named Riverbend in a place the river doesn’t bend. I was thinking like, out here. [at the bottom of the orange/yellow lines]

VERA: Oh, good. [ghoul laughing] You know, another thing that’s stupid about the red line? Is that it doesn’t go through Union Station.

GHOUL: Yeah, that is stupid.

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: I mean, to be fair, Municipal Intersection is also a very major transfer station. But, I think this maybe implies that the red line, was like, not owned by one of the railroad companies that, you know, made the union.

VERA: Mm.

GHOUL: It was owned by a separate railroad company that refused to join the union. Or, I don’t fucking know how the metro works.

VERA: [giggle cackle thing]

GHOUL: Whatever.

VERA: Yeah, I’ve definitely read about the formation of the MTA from however many companies used to own different parts of the subway in New York City, but—

GHOUL: Okay, so, it did not start off as, the subway was a government owned thing.

VERA: No.

GHOUL: Okay, great, perfect. So the red line was just owned by a company that refused to join the union, and may in fact still be a different company? And they have a slightly different fare?

VERA: I mean, slightly different fare is one thing, the same fare but a different fare card is another thing.

GHOUL: [gleeful] Yessssss! You do have to have two different fare cards if you want to transfer onto the red line.

VERA: [blissfully] Ah, that’s so stupid.

GHOUL: Also, this means we can reasonably put more stupid branches on the red line, because like, it’s a whole subway system.

VERA: Mmhm, mmhm! Oh good. Well, we need to do that. Obviously, we’re going to do that.

GHOUL: Right, and like, at any point when you transfer from the red line to another line, you cannot transfer for free, because, you—they’re—you pay the fares with different cards! [wheezes quietly]

VERA: Right!

GHOUL: Often they’re not, like, on the map they’ll be the same station, but you do actually have to walk from, like there’s this stupid little corridor.

VERA: Mmhm,

GHOUL: Where you have to walk from one station to another.

VERA: Mmhm. Yeah, there’s this stupid little corridor and it goes kind of halfway through a building…

GHOUL: Halfway through a building?

VERA: There’s this one, um, stop I’m thinking about in New York City where, I think—it was the way you got from the 6 to the E?

GHOUL: Sure.

VERA: Um, and I don’t remember exactly what was going on there, but I do remember, getting off the 6, and, having to go over to one side of the platform, not out of the gates, but instead, down an escalator,

GHOUL: Okay,

VERA: Like, through, like this ground floor bit of, or maybe, maybe, even deeper, I don’t…

GHOUL: So, you went down an escalator to the ground floor, is this an elevated train?

VERA: No, not at ground floor, I guess, then—

GHOUL: The basement.

VERA: To the basement of a building, [ghoul laughing] over a bit, up some stairs?

GHOUL: In the building.

VERA: In the building. [ghoul giggles delightedly] And I think at one point you could see out the ground floor windows, is what I was thinking of. [ghoul is still laughing but it’s so breathless it’s almost inaudible] Um, I think there was also an elevator somewhere you could take—

GHOUL: This is SO stupid, I love it!!!

VERA: Oh yeah, no, no no no, and don’t worry—and then, when you’d gone up the stairs, then, you walk over a little more, and go down an Even larger, really REALLY long dumb escalator.

GHOUL: Good. Good.

VERA: And that was how you got to the E.

GHOUL: [as if about to cry] Ah! Yes, wonderful, effervescent!

VERA: Mmhm!

GHOUL: [laughs] I feel like we do need to have another branch of the red line, like maybe it intersects with the orange line, somewhere in the Valentine region?

VERA: Yeah, I think it’s good if it intersects specifically with the stupid nub line.

GHOUL: Yes. Wonderful. Um, are we—

VERA: Because it’s just like, doubly useless.

GHOUL: Righ— [wheezes] You can transfer in two places, you can transfer at one of three stops downtown, OR you can transfer at this stupid nubbin, where you’d have to… [starts laughing]

VERA: Pay another fucking fare to get back on the regular orange lines. Wouldn’t you?

GHOUL: No, the Valentine Institute is a free transfer.

VERA: Okay, okay, I just—

GHOUL: It’s also called VISTA.

VERA: Right

GHOUL: It’s obvious that I’m a tourist here.

VERA: Right, okay, so the VISTA stop, like, even that stupid thing, over to the nub end, is also a free transfer, but it’s like, a dumb one?

GHOUL: It’s—so, the 6 to the E, is that a free transfer?

VERA: Yes.

GHOUL: Okay. I think, if a transfer is dumb enough, it should also be free. They pay in inconvenience.

VERA: [guffaws] Right, Eskew has rules.

GHOUL: [high pitched giggle] So what I was wondering, was, when you transfer from the red line to the orange nub, is that, we’re extending from the terminus? Or are we extending from this stupid elbow here?

VERA: Right, I was thinking the same thing, and I was thinking, ‘stupid elbow, right?’

GHOUL: Where does it go after that? Is that the terminus, like, you can transfer there and that’s all that’s for?

VERA: I kind of like if it also goes, like, kind of almost to the yellow stupid bend here? [the shark fin thing]

GHOUL: Uh-huh.

VERA: But, doesn’t, like that’s not a transfer you can make.

GHOUL: Right, you can walk—

VERA: I mean, you can walk over—

BOTH: a couple blocks,

VERA: But,

GHOUL: It’s not a ‘transfer.’ I mean, it’s actually easier than the transfer to the orange line, though.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: Because you don’t have to go through a fucking basement.

[both laugh]

VERA: Oh, is the transfer from—over by the Institute? I think we should save that for a place that actually Could have a stupid free transfer through a stupid complicated bullshit, because the red line to the orange line is never going to be free.

GHOUL: That’s true. It’s just a transfer. But it is in the middle of nowhere, so.

VERA: Right, it could definitely be through, the, like, maximum amount of dumb, you have to pay AND it’s stupid. Like, you know.

GHOUL: I mean, I think it’s—I like the idea that the red line, because it’s run by a separate private company, trying to discourage anyone from actually transfering off of it? Which is, a complete misunderstanding of how and why people use the subway system.

VERA: Right.

GHOUL: But they do do that.

VERA: Oh, I love that. Oh man, we should think more about, like, we should look at this and think about layers.

GHOUL: Yes yes yes. Brambling Hill Beach is also only in the Silver City, right?

VERA: Oh yeah, Silver City.

GHOUL: Maybe you could transfer there from business. Suit City.

VERA: You know actually, maybe you can’t, but you can from Brambling Hill. I’m not sure we’re thinking of the same thing as a transfer.

GHOUL: No. What I’m saying is that like, if you live in Suit City or in Silver City, or, if you’re coming from there, or if you’re in there or whatever, you can get off at Brambling Hill Beach. If you’re in the Undercity, that stop just doesn’t happen. I mean I don’t know if you can get on the green line at all if you’re in the Undercity. You can get on the green line to transfer from Union Station to Municipal Intersection and that’s IT. [laughing] It’s like a pointless two-stop subway line.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: But it’s—it’s just basically there if, um, if the orange line isn’t coming.

VERA: It’d be just typical of the green line to have like, pretty good service times.

GHOUL: Like a lot of the subways stop service at like, eleven?

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: But the green line actually runs until 1am.

VERA: [sighs] No…

GHOUL: But here’s the catch: [increasingly laughing] you can only go from Union Station to Municipal Intersection.

VERA: Unless you’re loaded, in which case you could go to a couple other, still pretty useless places for rich people.

GHOUL: [still laughing] At 1 AM.

VERA: At 1 AM. Oh, this is great.

GHOUL: [laughing so hard they start coughing]

VERA: Who stops service at 11 PM??? Okay,

GHOUL: Just the red line. [laughing]

VERA: Oh… Okay.

GHOUL: Just the red line stops service at 11 PM.

VERA: Okay. That’s good.

GHOUL: [laughing] They’re like, ‘We’re an independent company, and we can go to bed when we want.’

VERA: You’re not my real mom, commuters who have to get to work. At night?

GHOUL: At 11 PM? Does the night shift start at 11 or 12? No, it starts at like 10, right?

VERA: People have to get home from their really late shifts.

GHOUL: Well, they can’t fucking take the red line, so good luck.

VERA: Right. Hope you live somewhere else!

GHOUL: Which sucks because the area the red line serves is specifically the area mostly full of people who are gonna have late shifts.

VERA: Yeah… Christ!

GHOUL: Like, people who live in Brambling Hill don’t fucking need that.

VERA: They don’t!

GHOUL: There’s, there’s like—there’s like One train that runs at midnight. The midnight train, right? And if you don’t catch it, you just don’t get to go home tonight.

VERA: The midnight train…

GHOUL: So you can—the midnight train. And if you, like, I think there should be a local phrase like, ‘missed the midnight train.’ [Vera squawks in delight] Which is like, a narrow window of opportunity, that was left by people who hate you?

VERA: MM!

GHOUL: Right? And so, you can always find like, like half a dozen people sleeping in a lot of red line stations at night, [Vera gasps] because they can’t get home ‘cause they missed the midnight train.

VERA: Yeah… yeah…

GHOUL: Also, I want to name the red line. Like,

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: I assume that like Long Island Railroad, it’s named after one of the termini? ‘Cause that’s the town that it was sort of half based in?

VERA: Right, which is fun, ‘cause we have not named any of the termini of the red line yet.

GHOUL: Ah, I think it should be That terminus. [spoilers: it’s called Trestle]

VERA: Mmhm. That makes sense.

GHOUL: And it should just be like a town, and it should be called the Town Name Railroad. But, we should name the town so that it makes a good acronym.

VERA: So, we’ve got Rail Road…

GHOUL: Could call it SORR… Like, fuckin sore from sleeping on the floor all night.

VERA: TARR,

GHOUL: [laughing] TARR… Yeah, missed the midnight train, so I have to sleep on the TARR. That’s pretty good.

VERA: That’s pretty good…

GHOUL: All right. TARR then.

VERA: Okay. So T-A… Trench and Ale Rail Road.

GHOUL: Trestle. Town called Trestle.

VERA: That’s…

GHOUL: The Trestle Allendale Rail Road.

VERA: [quietly] Is Allendale a real town?

GHOUL: There’s definitely a town somewhere called Allendale.

VERA: Yes, there’s at least one in Pennyslvania.

GHOUL: There you go. See it’s not, this city’s not in New Jersey.

[both laugh]

GHOUL: The city of Trestle is called that because of their fucking famous trestle bridges or some shit, and it’s all because there’s a railroad there. [laughs] It’s kind of like a chicken and egg thing. Like did they build the railroad that the town was named after first, or did they build the town that the railroad was named after first. [laughs] It’s one of those mysteries. Are we doing Allendale, or what?

VERA: Um… Well I’m just gonna name this place Trestle.

GHOUL: Yeah, sure. It’s named after this bridge, right here.

VERA: Right here? [pointing at the bridge just south of the western TARR crossing] Which is extra funny because the red line doesn’t—the TARR does Not go—

GHOUL: I mean, I was actually pointing at the crossing, where the TARR crosses the river.

VERA: Oh.

GHOUL: But, we just went ahead and did that, so whatever.

VERA: I mean, there could just be a bunch.

GHOUL: What if there’s an intersection over the river? Like, they built two bridges over the river at right angles to each other?

VERA: Well that would be wildly dumb. I like it.

GHOUL: Mm, it can’t be the Trestle crossing, though. It has to be like, here. [black plus sign north of Burning River] It only counts as one crossing, though. That’s just the double crossing.

[pen uncapping noise]

VERA: Yeah. Ummm…

GHOUL: Sixth Crossing, or just the Double Crossing.

VERA: [guffaws]

GHOUL: What does the A stand for, Vera?

VERA: Ah, fuck—umm,

GHOUL: Is it Allendale or not?

VERA: Uh, you also said Ainsdale [mumbles] Which I liked.

GHOUL: I said Ainsdale.

VERA: I kinda like Ainsdale.

GHOUL: Okay. [mumbles] We’ll use Ainsdale. [aloud] The Trestle-Ainsdale Railroad. Or TARR. And none of the component lines of TARR are named, or have distinct names. It’s just named after the terminus and one of them is, you know, just like, oh yeah, the loop, right.

VERA: G-d, what a garbage fucking—

GHOUL: There’s TARR loop, there’s TARR to Trestle—

VERA: And there’s TARR—presumably a couple other stupid bits, that aren’t on the maps, yet, but are not ‘written’ down.

GHOUL: I think we might be done with this episode.

VERA: Yeah…

GHOUL: I’m really hungry, I only had two breakfasts.

VERA: Right, you left your other breakfast on the—

GHOUL: I left my other breakfast.

VERA: Mm. I did wanna talk about what the city is mourning and why it is alone in its grief…

GHOUL: Ffffuck! Euch. What is the ci—okay. What is the city mourning? I think this actually ties into the question about immigration and geopolitics, though.

VERA: Mhm, mhm. Right, I know you’ve been thinking about a war, because, you like to have it.

GHOUL: I like, well, partially, because I really want to reuse the song ‘Oh, Nightingale,’ which has the really good verse about the war.

VERA: Yes. Which is super—yeah. I do also like for the city to be mourning internal fuckery? Because, for one thing, although it is apparently not true that a Union Station is built by a Railroad Union of railroad workers—

GHOUL: There is some union busting shit in there.

VERA: Yeah. There is nevertheless Definitely some union busting shit in the Evil City’s history.

GHOUL: Right, there was, there was definitely like a steelworker’s union that got brutally crushed.

VERA: Yeugh.

GHOUL: I assume like a dockworker’s union?

VERA: Yeah…

GHOUL: They might still have that, just in like a pathetic weak reduced form.

VERA: Yeah…

GHOUL: Where it’s like a union in name only, and they don’t actually exercise any power because they know the city will squash them flat if they try?

VERA: Right.

GHOUL: I think, like the city could be mourning its previous economic prosperity and cultural prosperity, that was like, it was made possible by the people by, you know, community organizations like unions, like neighborhood associations, that the lords of the city are now suppressing. And they’re like, [does stupid voice] ‘I don’t know why our city sucks now’. It’s like, bro. It’s ‘cause you killed it.

VERA: Yeah! Yes! That’s what—that’s the shit I like.

GHOUL: Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah—

VERA: —yeah—

GHOUL: —yeah. I assume because this is partially based on New England that there have been some textile mills. You know, how it is,

VERA: Yeah, I know how it is with you.

GHOUL: The… Pentagon… Shirtwaist Factory.

VERA: [wheezes out a laugh] That’s too derivative.

GHOUL: You’re right.

VERA: The Trapezoid Pantwaist Factory [busts out laughing as soon as they get through saying it]

GHOUL: Got it! Honestly, if we have a stop called ‘Trapezoid’ that kinda rules.

VERA: [one big ol’ shriek of laughter]

GHOUL: But no-one actually remembers why it’s called that, because obviously, the factory burned down. [both laughing]

VERA: Right, the factory burned down and… was, was not successfully used as a labor rights warning story for the next forever.

GHOUL: No. No.

VERA: It just burned down.

GHOUL: It just burned down and tons of people died.

VERA: Yeah.

GHOUL: And, they covered it up.

VERA: Yup.

GHOUL: It was not actually reported in any major news outlets, that people died there. It was like, popularly known, ‘cause like, where the fuck else did my loved one die.

VERA: Mmhm.

GHOUL: Than at the place where they work, where it is known that they keep the doors locked,

VERA: Where—that just burned down.

GHOUL: I feel like, that was one of the events that kind of started the destruction of the—I don’t know if they had a union. Like maybe they were trying to form one. And then there was this, terrible fire, completely unrelated.

VERA: [inhales loudly] Chhhrist. G-d, fucking typical though.

GHOUL: Yeah. There have been, SO many assassinations of union leaders in Evil City. So many.

VERA: [sighs] Yeah…

GHOUL: So many assassinations. Blackthorn has definitely had people assassinated.

VERA: Oh yes.

GHOUL: Oh my gosh.

VERA: Oh yes.

GHOUL: And now, on the site where the factory used to be, there’s just like, a trapezoid-shaped plaque on the ground? And everyone assumes that the station is named after that.

VERA: Oh my G-d…

GHOUL: You know, that’s like. Misdirection to, help people forget.

VERA: Oh, I thought that like, um—I thought it’d be fun if—before they got assassinated, some of the factory workers’ loved ones, uh, who were trying to—uh, did a plaque, among other things. I don’t know that ‘plaque’ is the first thing I’d go for, if I was—

GHOUL: No, I would start an independent newspaper, or like sell the story to an independent newspaper.

VERA: Right.

GHOUL: But now it’s just like, this plaza that’s sort of like a weird little park, and it’s in between two factories? Or office buildings that used to be factories And it’s like, this is a super weird place for a little park that’s also a plaza.

VERA: Yeah. [ghoul laughs] Mmm!

GHOUL: And it has this, trapezoid shaped thing. Which is, I assume, why we call it the Trapezoid.

VERA: Right. You know, maybe it’s a fucking. Blank, completely sanded down, bronze trapezoidal plaque.

GHOUL: Right! It used to have ‘In memorial of the 87 people who died in the Trapezoid Pantwaist Fire.’

VERA: Right. [sarcastically bright] It doesn’t anymore.

GHOUL: It doesn’t anymore. It was sanded down.

VERA: Pretty quickly!

GHOUL: Very—[audibly covers face] fuck, I’m so sad, no wonder the city’s grieving.

VERA: Right, this sucks!

GHOUL: Two other fun facts about the Trapezoid. One, it is often referred to by locals as ‘the trap.’ [Vera exhales punched-ly] Just, as a nickname, [Vera laughs weakly] no relation. Two: if you go there from the Ghost City, it’s still on fire. [Vera laughs weakly AGAIN] There’s a lot of things that are still on fire in the Ghost City.

VERA: It’s just that kind of city!

GHOUL: It’s just that kind of city. [wheezing] Yikes!!!

[both making noises of astonished yikes-ness]

GHOUL: Yeah, okay!

VERA: Okay!

GHOUL: Good—good talk!

VERA: Good talk! [both laughing grimacingly]

GHOUL: And with that, I think we’ll sign off for this episode, thanks for listening, Lee.

VERA: [laughing] Yeah, thanks for listening, Lee! [suddenly stops being high-pitched] Right, no—

GHOUL: Okay, bye!

VERA: Mmm, bye-bye…

[outro plays, from Bolt Cutter by Doomtree]

#overground #evil city

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makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 198: A Pair of Chuunis

Previously on BnHA: Shinsou, Tsuyu, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Kouda (henceforth known as Team A) faced off against Shiozaki, Tsuburaba, Shishida, and Rin (Team B). Kiri, Kouda, and Tsubu were captured, making it 3 VS 3. Tsuyu covered Shinsou and Kami with her disgusting frog mucus in order to mask their scent so class B wouldn’t be able to track their movements. They then purposely allowed Kaminari to get captured as a distraction to let Shinsou get close enough to Shiozaki to ensnare here with his quirk. Realizing what had happened, Shishida stopped talking so as not to fall under Shinsou’s control himself. However this also left him unable to communicate with his remaining teammate, and Rin was shortly thereafter taken out by Tsuyu. Shishida was knocked out shortly after that, and so Team A ended up winning the match, giving class 1-A the lead as we enter the second round.

Today on BnHA: Aizawa and Vlad provide their respective students with constructive criticism following the match. Meanwhile the remaining 8 teams begin to plan out their strategies, including Monoma who is excited to have the chance to work together with Shinsou, particularly after witnessing the first match. It turns out he’s not the only one interested in what Shinsou can do, as Aizawa and Vlad reveal to All Might and Midnight that today’s exercise is doubling as Shinsou’s exam determining whether or not he should be admitted into the hero course. The second round of battles begins, with Team MomoYamaTokoKure facing off against Team KendouKuroMangaToadette. Kendou is excited to be battling Momo, as she considers the two of them to be rivals, and feels that up until now Momo has been outshining her. Meanwhile Kuroiro from class B bonds with Tokoyami over their mutual goth aesthetic before the two teams split off to get things started. Toko sends out Dark Shadow to do recon, only to have Kuroiro -- whose quirk allows him to move freely within the color black -- hitch a ride back to Team A’s location. The two prepare to clash, and Toko gets ready to show off a new technique he’s apparently learned from Hawks.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 222, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

my man Aizawa out here making sure I continue to stan him

this is school after all!

and oh my god this title

you know it’s the Momo chapter when...

goddammit Kirishima’s self-esteem issues are acting up again

does anyone know if that “staring at yourself in the mirror and psyching yourself up by reminding yourself that you’re cool and awesome” thing actually works? maybe he should try that. he’s so good at complimenting other people but he’s so damn hard on himself. why are all shounen characters like this

Kouda says he needs to get better at issuing detailed orders to insects

good god Kouda, if you improve on your quirk you’re going to be fucking terrifying aren’t you

and I know I just said all shounen characters are too hard on themselves, but then along comes Kaminari to prove me wrong!

you were great, buddy. 10/10 I stan one adaptable and clever electric boy. I would pit you and Mina up against Rat Principal all over again because I bet you two would crush it now

(ETA: not to mention that as Jirou will shortly point out, he’s skirting on the edge of falling into his usual derp mode here -- but he’s managing to retain his senses for the most part, which is extremely impressive given how much electricity he put out in that fight, first against Shishida and then later against Shiozaki. Kaminari!! you’ve become stronger!)

Tsuyu says she wanted to win without any casualties and she regrets losing two of her teammates

Shinsou, who did amazing for his first time, says it was “incredibly frustrating” and that he wasn’t able to apply even ten percent of what he’s learned

kid, take that frustration and channel it into becoming even more determined to fulfill your dreams! that’s the upside of being a shounen character who’s too harsh on himself! you learn and you keep getting stronger, okay?

see, and Aizawa’s telling him the same thing

wow so he didn’t master it until he was out of school, then? or did he start on that before he entered U.A.?

say, aren’t we due some Aizawa flashbacks soon? this is the arc the manga was on when I first started reading, so it seems to be about that time I’d say

(ETA: so what is it exactly that made people have all these headcanons about him knowing the Iida family as a kid? I know he and Tensei are both in Vigilantes, so I’m guessing now it has something to do with that. lol and here I thought we were going to get a whole backstory. instead we’ve had all of one panel’s worth of flashbacks, and that was very recent and we apparently don’t know what the deal is with that yet except that he had some sort of cloudy friend that he doesn’t want to talk about. not that I’m not loving that, mind you; it’s just not what I was expecting. I really gotta start Vigilantes don’t I. maybe this weekend)

oh my god

I’m a simple girl, I see Jirou losing her damn shit over Kaminari and I hit like and subscribe for more great content

and yes, Aoyama, they do seem to be taking this much more seriously than the others. thinking about what would have happened in a real life situation. and I mean, that’s not a bad thing per se, but it’s just... they’re still kids. and already thinking about death and other worst-case scenarios because they’ve experienced it firsthand now. and man but that’s rough

now Aizawa is giving them his own pointers

he’s such a good teacher I love him so much

meanwhile Vlad is chewing out his own students

didn’t Horikoshi describe his teaching approach as being gentler than Aizawa’s? was that just because he doesn’t expel entire classes at the drop of a hat? sure not seeming real gentle right now lol

(ETA: strut strut)

excuse me Monoma who is the teacher here

but he says that despite the loss, he’s satisfied because they showed the rest of them “something marvelous”

(ETA: strut strut)

yeah, I’ve been wondering about that. he probably can’t wait to try that quirk out for himself

man if Monoma bonds with Shinsou and then Shinsou ends up joining 1-A I am going to laaaaaaugh

(ETA: lol except for the fact that I sorta kinda ship it now oh shit)

and they have an advantage over the class A Shinsou team since they actually have some time to prepare

wow they’re all strategizing now

friendly reminder that I love all of these kids and would die for them

and yes you, Todoroki. humility is all well and good but let’s not kid ourselves. you’re a powerhouse and you need to own it

I have no doubt that Team BakuJirouSeroSatou is going to crush this and I can’t waiiiit

(ETA: THEY SO CRUSHED IT)

and who fucking asked you, C-3PO. maybe they can’t have spare parts installed, but human bodies literally heal themselves given just a bit of time and rest. we don’t need to sit here and be dragged by someone who can’t even pass a damn turing test okay

All Might is reflecting on how much everyone has grown. he sure does that a lot

I guess. and also a way to finally introduce the other 20 U.A. first years after 200 fucking chapters lol

hey what

what is it. what’s with those faces. y’all wanna throw down or what?? bring it

oh they just want to know what they thought about Shinsou

All Might is so good I love you All Might

oh shit. so spoiler alert I guess he passes lol

is he aware that it’s a test? is this another one of your Logical Ruses you deceitful hobo

yessssssssss!

I honestly can’t fathom how a team with both Momo and Tokoyami could possibly lose. they’ve even got Aoyama “saving the day in the clutch” Yuuga and Hagakure “I’m the friggin’ traitor” Tooru for fuck’s sake

by the way, Hagakure’s right fist is facing out but isn’t that weird? wouldn’t it make more sense to have your fist facing toward you for this kind of “pumped and ready to go” gesture? idk why it bothers me. maybe because she’s literally only hands so you could at least get that one detail right lmao

and have I mentioned how much I love Momo’s cape. now if only they’d get her a fucking zipper good grief

that kid from class B who speaks in literal dialogue bubbles is freaking named Manga and I can’t you guys

I have no problem with calling Kuroiro by his name, but I’m pretty sure that legally I have to continue referring to Komori as Toadette. I don’t make the rules you guys

Kendou is asking Momo why she didn’t enter the beauty contest during the cultural festival

have I mentioned lately that Aizawa is the best dad? I have? well it never hurts to say it yet again. Momo had more important things to worry about than participating in the least rational annual event this school puts on

oh right, somehow I forgot that these two did their workplace experience together. actually can I just call it a fucking internship even if it wasn’t an internship internship? y’all still know what I mean anyway so come on

this is an odd thing to bring up now and I can’t help but think Kendou’s trying to get into Momo’s head somehow

(ETA: nope. just bein’ rivals)

oh, Hagakure’s bringing up that one guy at the festival who kept cheering for Momo. I had been wondering about that. so he was a fan of theirs from the commercial they did then? who the hell stans someone from just a single commercial

yes

ooh, hidden dark side from Kendou all of a sudden!

I mean, on the one hand I don’t like Kendou getting jealous because these badass ladies should be supporting one another, not harboring jealous thoughts and insecurities

but on the other hand she’s not wrong about Momo though trufax

okay good, this seems healthy enough

A WHOLESOME LADY RIVALRY, EH? BRING IT

oh my god

imagine going from drawing Shiozaki to drawing this guy. Horikoshi must be filled with relief right now

oh my god Kuroiro’s quirk is apparently amazing!?

holy shit?? WHIP OUT THAT DARK SHADOW AND TEST IT OUT! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

lmao

if these two don’t watch it they are gonna cut themselves to ribbons on ALL THAT EDGE

so then is Hagakure gonna clash with Toadette. or Manga

so now round two is officially starting, and Sero is asking his friendly neighborhood Tetsutetsu about Kendou, Tetsu’s crush

I ship these two kids so hard. he adores her

lol he says that if she wasn’t around the whole class would have been “indoctrinated” by Monoma

he says she’s the big sister of class B

yeah, so basically the Momo

and now Todoroki is thoughtfully chiming in

you know, operation? as in scheme? as in whatever plan Momo’s thought up using the intellect that’s put her on at the very top of what is probably the most brilliant class in U.A. history?

so now we’re cutting to Team B, and Kendou is saying that they should wait and see what Team A has in store first, since even though they know their basic quirks, they don’t know what improvements they’ve made and what special moves they’ve come up with

go fuck him up Kuroiro! I know I shouldn’t be rooting for you, but I’m so fucking curious to see if you can use Tokoyami’s quirk against him omg

meanwhile we’re cutting back to Team A, and Tokoyami is reporting to the others that Dark Shadow has located Team B

oh shit

TOKOYAMI THEY GOT YO BOY

Dark Shadow’s zooming toward them now and Tokoyami’s shouting at everyone to disperse

HE LOOKS SO SAD OH NO

KUROIRO YOU ASSHOLE WHY ARE YOU MY NEW CLASS B FAVE

Hagakure is all “Kuroiro popped out from inside Dark Shadow!” as though everyone else didn’t just watch that happen right along with her

Momo’s flinging some ninja nets at Kuro but he’s dodging!

I LOVE IT

HOLY SHIT TOKOYAMI IS RIPPED. WHEN DID THAT FUCKING HAPPEN. WHERE WERE THOSE ARM MUSCLES DURING THE POOL EPISODE, JESUS

(ETA: and I’ll have you know Horikoshi even specifically described his arms as “fairly thin” when he did his little bio in chapter 101! so this is a recent fucking development. bird boy been hittin the gym)

also he sure does have a lot of natural enemies doesn’t he. his quirk is so powerful but it has a lot of weaknesses

and lmaoooooo at “a pair of chuunis” holy fucking christ

how is this chapter over already?? oh well, we’re almost at 200, let’s keep going and check out Toko’s new technique

#bnha #boku no hero academia #yaoyorozu momo #kendou itsuka #tokoyami fumikage #kuroiro shihai #kaminari denki #shinsou hitoshi #monoma neito #aizawa shouta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #you know I wasn't quite as aware of it during my first read #but on the reread it's inescapable how much this arc is a shipping goldmine #I count like six different ships in this one 13-page chapter alone #kamijirou #monoshin #momokendou #tokokuro #kendoutetsu #todomomo #and I'm probably missing some others #and damned if I don't ship *all* of it #the best part is horikoshi probably isn't aware of like 90% of it #you just keep doing what you do dude #your characters all have great chemistry with each other and I'm pretty sure momo and kendou passed the bechdel test in this chapter #so basically what I'm saying is good job #keep it up

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kirinda-ondo · 5 years

Text

So I have some thoughts and feelings about Vishnal Rune Factory

I am aware that approximately two other people besides me care about this, but literally when has it ever stopped me from rambling at length

So basically, I love Vishnal from Rune Factory 4. Like, a lot. I never commit to anyone in farm sims but boy howdy, he managed to hit literally all the criteria I have to be considered a Favorite Character™. He did it so well, in fact, he’s earned a spot alongside characters like Cobalt or Lydia. But like those characters, while there are people who like him, I feel as though he doesn’t get enough credit. The complaints I’ve seen tend to be that he’s boring and that he has the worst proposal event. Hell, one of the first few results from googling him is a thread asking if he’s supposed to be a joke character. While I can see where this sentiment might come from, I’d like to explain the appeal in a lot of the things people find fault in him for (at least for me), and maybe offer a bit of a different perspective, I guess.

If I had to guess where a lot of these problems that people have with him come from, it’s probably the fact that he doesn’t have a lot of lore behind him. To be honest, Vishnal doesn’t really have a whole lot of plot significance. He doesn’t have any direct connection to the capitol of Norad like Arthur or Kiel (via his sister Forte), he’s got nothing to do with the Sechs empire like Doug, and he’s not a guardian like Dylas and Leon. Vishnal, despite working in a castle and serving Ventuswill (who we shall henceforth refer to as Venti), a literal dragon god, is an everyman by comparison. He’s just a guy trying to do his job the best he can.

Similarly, he also doesn’t have a whole lot of mystery or drama behind him either. With pretty much every other bachelor, there’s usually some kind of dark secret from their past that comes up and has to be dealt with, either through the main plot or through their proposal events. To just give you an idea of the kind of things we’re dealing with here, let’s do a rundown.

Doug’s entire tribe was killed by Sechs soldiers, but the empire fed him propaganda to make him believe that Venti was responsible so that he would work undercover for them in order to kill her and take the Rune Spheres.

Arthur was an illegitimate child of Norad’s king and believes that his mother hated him so much she had to take off her glasses so that she didn’t have to look at him, causing him to have severe trust issues (as well as a glasses fetish? Have fun with that, Freud).

Kiel (and by extension, his sister) is trapped in a well-meaning, but incredibly fucked up family dynamic that forced him to be incredibly sheltered while Forte took on the duties of a knight in a heavily male dominated society to protect him. However, since both of their parents are dead, they have no idea that they’re allowed to free themselves and become their own people.

Dylas sacrificed himself to become a guardian, fusing with a monster in order to act as a living life support to help keep Venti alive, but when he’s finally free, he’s hundreds of years into the future, where everything he knows is gone. It’s also implied that before he became a guardian, he was suicidal.

Leon, like Dylas, also sacrificed himself to become a guardian and was flung far into the future. However, he also has the added guilt of believing he left his childhood friend to live the rest of her life emotionally stunted because when he was younger, he made a promise to marry her if she stopped crying so much, but didn’t take it seriously as she did, and couldn’t have kept it even if he did.

Meanwhile, Vishnal has had an utterly average life. In order to help people, he wanted to become a doctor like his father, but felt he wasn’t smart enough, so when he met a butler named Sebastian, he was so impressed he decided to become a butler himself. Though he was worried his father wouldn’t approve of this way of helping people, he was ultimately supportive, helping him train and, through a friend’s connections, getting him to Selphia to work under Volkanon.

Vishnal is basically Clark from Connecticut in terms of how average he is by comparison. However, I wouldn’t say this is a bad thing. Even dealing with one of these traumatic backstories is a lot, let alone trying to harem them all (and don’t even get me started on the main plot’s drama). A lot of the resolutions to these character arcs are followed up by a proposal, and maybe it’s just my age and personal experiences (or the fact that I’m aroace), but when that happens, I don’t get the feeling of “YES, TAKE ME NOW!” I just think “…You literally just found out the thing that’s been screwing you up your entire life was a giant misunderstanding. I get that you’re happy but like, maybe take some time to sort yourself out? See a therapist maybe???”

But Vishnal, for all of his faults (of which there are many and I will get to that later), generally has his shit together. I respect that and find it a breath of fresh air compared to the cavalcade of angst in everyone else’s lives. Not to say that he doesn’t have any problems at all, because then that would be boring, but they tend to be more focused in the present, and are a bit more grounded in reality and less… spectacular. But like I said, we’ll get to that.

What he lacks in terms of dramatic backstory, he makes up for in personality. He’s very… intense, to put it mildly. While not completely hyper, he’s very high energy and it doesn’t take much to get him psyched up. He’s the type of person to put at least 110% effort in everything he does, and nearly everything he does goes towards his goal of becoming the world’s best butler. Unfortunately, as a result, he’s considered one-note. Now, I’m not going to sit here and say he doesn’t talk about butler things all the time, because he absolutely does, but for me, as someone who also tends to get super into things and talk about them endlessly (hence this entire ramble), I find him pretty endearing, if not a tad relatable in that regard. However, for all his single-mindedness, he is still a decently multifaceted character.

Probably the most important thing to note here is that he is a very good person, like “too good for this sinful earth” kind of good. He has a natural drive to help others and doesn’t have a mean word to say about anyone (though even he engages in the ultimate Selphian pastime of Teasing Doug™ on occasion). He’s also honest to a fault. It’s incredibly easy to tell if he’s trying to cover something up because he’s usually pretty much an open book and wears his heart on his sleeve. He seems to expect others to be the same way, as he has a bad habit of taking what people say at face value even if they’ve repeatedly shown not to be trustworthy. This often leads him to be the butt of many a joke or the victim of scams. Other times, lighthearted teasing falls flat as he takes it seriously and winds up getting his feelings hurt. But ever the optimist, he doesn’t let setbacks get him down for long.

He very much believes in the power of hard work overcoming any obstacle, and it seems in his mind, literally anything is possible if you train hard enough, and he’s constantly trying to prepare himself to master every possible scenario, from protecting important secrets by staying silent to becoming invincible to the common cold by constantly being soaked with water. It generally winds up doing him more harm than good, and even Doug worries about him a little bit because Vishnal will do pretty much anything if you tell him it’s special training (though this does not even remotely stop Doug from having a field day with it). Were this not a very “anime” kind of game, it would honestly be amazing if he hadn’t died from any of his training attempts.

Though it may come across as though he has no idea what is actually possible for a human to achieve, he actually seems to have quite a few hangups about his own limitations. He has a massive perfectionist complex and is incredibly hard on himself. He tends to beat himself up quite a bit when he makes mistakes (I mean the man looks utterly devastated every time he screws up lunch) and outright warns the player (who we shall henceforth refer to as Frey) that he may cause her trouble. However, he’s not quite as terrible as he might imply. While he is gullible and very much a klutz, he’s got a wide variety of skills and knowledge he rarely gives himself credit for. For instance, he’s not exactly street smart by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s well-read to a degree that he can actually read things from Arthur’s library (which says a lot because Arthur is a colossal nerd), and he’s knowledgeable on a number of subjects from farming to geography. On the lake date (when it’s not summer), you have the option to ask him more about the kind of training he would do, and he rattles off a list of insane skills (I.e. making tea so good as to become its own singularity…singularitea, if you will) like it’s no big deal. Mind you, given what someone like Volkanon is capable of, that may just be par for the course as far as butlers go in this universe, but for your average person, that’s honestly impressive, if not a bit terrifying.

His confidence (or lack thereof), however, tends to reflect in the quality of his work. In a small example, every so often, he offers Frey his attempt at curry rice. It’s hot garbage, but if she tells him it’s good, he admits he wasn’t very confident in it. However, we see in his prerequisite event (which is a much more overt example) that when he’s more confident in himself, he’s not only able to make actual food, but is downright hypercompetent in his job. For context, he is conned into buying an overpriced statue that, according to blacksmith and Professional Vishnal Scammer™ Bado, will allegedly make him an expert overnight. Wholly believing in this thing, he’s suddenly amazing… until he accidentally knocks it over and breaks it. Utterly devastated and unconvinced that his improved performance came from within, he’s suddenly infinitely worse than he was when he started. Things of course balance themselves out, but we come away realizing that if he had as much self-confidence as he did pure determination, he could easily reach a point where he’d be absolutely unstoppable.

We also see this lack of confidence manifest itself in regards to Frey. If she pursues a relationship, we get quite a bit of evidence that he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her. Before he formally asks her out, he lists all the things he does wrong; all the ways he’s a novice, essentially warning her of what she may have to deal with. However, if Frey’s conquered the RNG and made it this far, then it’s safe to say that she’s prepared to take the risk. On the airship date, he outright says once he becomes an expert, he’ll finally be the perfect man for her. Even during his own damn proposal event, he tells her he’s unreliable. This is incredibly far from the case, as even if he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s doing everything he can to make this work. He works himself even harder to maximize his time with her, he buys (phony) charms from Bado to keep them together, he asks other bachelors for advice (as poor is it may be at times), he literally asks the entire town for date spot reviews, as well as just straight up reading up on how to be the best possible boyfriend.

Eventually, should the RNG gods be smiling, this brings us to the proposal event. Now, one might imagine that this event might follow the thread we’ve been building up here into him learning maybe not to beat himself up so much or becoming a little more self-confident, but no. While this sort of thing happens for a number of other bachelors/bachelorettes, where their prerequisite events foreshadow what’s to come in their proposal events, that isn’t quite the case here. While that development does occur to a degree, it’s a bit more subtle and is not really the focus of this event.

His proposal event instead mainly forces him to consider his priorities. So for some context, a butler judge has come, and if Vishnal does well, he may finally earn his first star and be one step closer to being the ultimate butler. In fact, his abilities are already recognized as worthy of the title, but there’s just once teensy little problem. You see, in butlerdom, your master and your partner being one in the same is a bit of a taboo. Dating your boss creates a whole host of problems, after all; not just for you, but your reputation. And so this is where the conundrum comes in. We already know he’s incredibly dedicated to this career choice to the point that if he doesn’t succeed, he will literally die trying, but he’s now just as dedicated to Frey. Being that this is a proposal event though, you pretty much already know how this is going to end, but just hear me out.

This is currently the biggest decision he’s ever made in his life, and is essentially the emotional equivalent of having to choose between losing your right hand or your left. He obviously doesn’t want to throw away years of hard work, but he’s also not the type to just leave someone behind in pursuit of his own interests. Frey ultimately saves him from waffling back and forth about it forever by breaking things off so he can pursue his dreams, but literally no one is happy with this. Even the judge feels bad and he’s the one who started it. But with this little problem out of the way, Vishnal is free to accept his new rank. Except he doesn’t. After a dramatic, heartfelt speech pointing out that this actually puts him in a better position to serve Frey, and how reputations shouldn’t matter more than protecting the person you’re entrusted to, he whisks her away and proposes. Before she can properly answer though, he’s called back to the castle. In the end, the judge is moved by his dedication, and so Vishnal can now have his cake and eat it too. Short, sweet, and to the point.

It’s probably about half the length of the other bachelors’ events, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad. It’s actually a pretty nice contrast between the other proposals. Leon, Arthur, and Kiel have the common thread of having to sort out baggage from their past before they decide to marry. Doug and Dylas, while their events are more lighthearted, are a bit more focused on a lack of communication and resulting misunderstandings that come from trying to surprise Frey with a ring. However, because Vishnal’s life isn’t a veritable conga line of angst and trauma, his obstacle to marriage is entirely in the present, and because he’s so open about his feelings, he and Frey actually have a chance to sit down and discuss where to go from here, so there’s no communication issues. Plus, his situation, while a bit dramatically handled because anime, is actually kind of relatable. Having to choose between a career and a relationship is a situation that happens to a pretty good number of people, and it’s rarely an easy decision. It’s a logical conflict for such a work focused character.

While it doesn’t really overtly follow up on the initial thread that seemed to have been laid out of him learning to be more confident in himself, the transition is definitely there, at least in regards to Frey. It’s just not quite as spelled out in events. Even in his proposal, he’s still self-deprecating, but it’s a far cry from the absolute list of faults he gave initially asking her out. Not to mention, it absolutely takes a whole lot of courage to one, choose love over your life’s dream, and two, to do it in the incredibly dramatic and utterly obliterating manner that he did. The relationship also changes some post-marriage. Post-marriage Vishnal is a much different beast than pre-marriage Vishnal. As we’ve discussed, in the dating phase, he’s a lot less sure of how boyfriend things work, and resorts to asking others for advice and outright studying. Now that he’s married, he’s less reliant on others and is much more forward. He actually tends to be the one to initiate romantic gestures, from goodnight kisses to using his own sappy lines as opposed to borrowing them from Leon, among other things. Truly a far cry from the days where he would agonize over whether or not to even hold Frey’s hand. Sadly, while date dialogue doesn’t really change (with the exception of the room date, where he literally states he’s past being shy and awkward), there’s definitely a more visible shift in the focus of his other dialogue from being even good enough for Frey to being more protective. Jury’s still out on how much this development has affected his work performance, as there’s no real new mentions of it after the fact (though after marriage he is finally capable of making edible curry rice…sometimes!), but at least some degree of his self-esteem is improving.

So basically, to summarize, Vishnal isn’t a bad character. He’s just handled differently than the other bachelors. He’s a bit more grounded in reality as far as his backstory and conflicts are concerned. His development also tends to happen outside of his events rather than being the feature, making it a bit more subtle, and thus a bit harder to spot from a glance, but it’s there. For as much fun as he is as a character, I admit he’s definitely very tame compared to the other bachelor options, even despite the localizers’ attempts to make him spicier, so he’s not for everyone. I can see why others might prefer someone a little more exciting or mysterious, like Leon (who seems to be like, god tier as far as RF4 bachelors go), but I hope I’ve at least adequately explained why Vishnal might be appealing to some and has more merit than just a joke character. After all, vanilla is a flavor too, and plenty of people like that.

Anyhoo, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#kateh rambles #i know readmores don't usually work on mobile so like RIP to your dash i guess #long post #kateh's rf4 tag

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