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delusion-of-negation · 2 years

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1) Ok so, I need some input on my situation. I'm a mildly disabled person, bad eyesights, and some motoric stuff. Nothing too impactful. I have an able-bodied (AB) acquaintance. Recently a mutual friend also able-bodied made a comment how they had problem with a small YT'ber who's got a heavy accent, they wanted to ask if there was a possibility for the YT'ber to add captions, but also mentioned how they were super insecure about sounding rude. AB told them to "Just say you're HoH, and that you

2) need it follow along with the video." I hadn't really said anything about the accent thing, but I kinda just responded with "Imo, I think you should just be polite and ask, claiming a disability and using it as an excuse when you don't have it is a bit off" AB just loos at me, and asks if I was calling them ableist. After a bit back and forth AB said "You aren't even HOH, why do you care?" Maybe they got a point? I just kinda feel it's unpleasant when able-bodied people use disabilities as a

3) to avoid "confrontation". Especially when the're not even doing it to actually help the disabled, but do it to benefit themselves, without caring about actual disabled people. Maybe the YT'ber becomes more accessible,which would be cool. But why does this have to be done on the backs of disabled people, for the comfort of Able-bodied people? It feels kinda backhanded, just because disabled people get a benefit from it, doesn't mean it was right to use us, in this case HoH though, as a tool

amongst my (many many) physical and mental disabilities, I have auditory processing issues, and my bio brother is deaf (and also has many many disabilities). I don't think ab was ableist, although I do think them snapping back and saying that stuff (you can care about stuff that doesn't affect you, that's not why you're wrong) when you got uncomfortable was pretty rude. sometimes people tell white lies when avoiding confrontation, dealing with anxiety (put a pin here), protecting people's feelings, etc, and provided it's not spreading misinformation or harming someone, it's maybe a touch insensitive, but not straight up ableist, and literally no people with hearing issues would have been involved in this specific incident or affected negatively in any way if you hadn't sent it to me.

they absolutely could feel like the youtuber may feel uncomfortable or upset with "you're hard to understand" and not add any, and if you're like "hey, could you add captions for the hearing impaired?" well that's still not a sure fire either because I've seen first-hand "no actual [disability] have ever asked for this, so fuck off", but "hey, I'm a hard of hearing fan, do you think it'd be possible to add subtitles?" isn't as likely to upset the youtuber. there's obviously levels to this, different situations might be far more ableist, but I don't think this specific incident would be a white lie that'd ultimately hurt anyone.

I think painting it as the person "using" disabled people is hella extreme for just one sentence of a white lie to avoid upsetting someone. that said, I'd like to reiterate, I'm not saying it's not backhanded or unpleasant, just that... to be honest, you really don't want me to get a second opinion on this one, because my bio bro hates people like you (that's people without the disabilities, and especially without any at all or with only mild ones, who take offense on behalf of people and groups that they don't belong to, and stand in the way of a net good because it comes across as problematic to you in some tiny way), and your messages here would earn you a slurry of insults if he saw them. especially if ab didn't ask for the subtitles in the end because of you.

of the two of us, I'm the one most sympathetic to the idea of an incredibly minor thing still being insensitive, and of speaking up when it doesn't affect you, and even I'm really finding it hard to give a shit. if I get captions then that's good, it won't bother me if the person who got captions exaggerated their need for them somewhat, so that the person wouldn't indignantly respond with annoyance at an insult to their voice or refuse because no disabled people have ever asked. what's really the benefit of this "yeah but are you disabled?" behaviour, means testing people for the right to advocate for a need? that mindset is what gets me shitty looks when I use the disabled loos, despite the fact that I physically need to use them, or the popularity of clips of people vandalising cars in disabled parking spaces because they thought (rightly or wrongly) that the owner wasn't disabled.

asking for help is hard, and in this situation it's simply not "on the backs of disabled people for the comfort of abled people". first of all, anxiety is a disability (remember that pin from earlier? I did notice how you referred to them both as able-bodied, not abled, and if you're another anon trying to sow discord between the mentally and physically disabled, I will go to the year 3,000 and do awful awful awful things with your great great great grandaughter). second of all, it literally is the able-bodied person doing the work to get the aids? they need them, even if only for comfort (which is literally something we disabled people should be advocating for, given how often our needs that ease pain are written off as "just for comfort"), and they're doing the work to get it. I don't think you've considered that, thirdly, he might not add any without "valid reason". and fourthly, it's also for disabled people, it's not gonna be captions only abled people can see, the captions will appear for everyone.

me and my bio brother grew up unable to learn sign language, despite his deafness and my selective mutism/non-verbal issues and auditory processing issues, because nowhere taught it and we didn't have money. we grew up unable to watch tv with subtitles turned on because it was either unavailable or "distracting" for the adults. that's not even getting into aids for other disabilities, how both of us have had to fight the benefits system to be able to survive, etc. I don't think you understand how it feels when your whole life has been "aids for disabled people are too uncomfortable for us, so no aids" and "even if you are in as much pain as you claim, you can still walk without this", and then someone comes to you like "can you believe this person wants aids!? for their comfort!? that'd help more people than just them! and they wanted to lie to make sure it was actually granted without a confrontation! what an ableist asshole!"

maybe things are different where you're from, but politely asking for an aid, especially if you're not literally paralysed from the neck down, or if it's more for being comfortable than literally surviving, really isn't as easy as you make it sound. "just ask politely for someone to go out of their way to make you comfy!" ma'am I can't even politely ask for the thing I need to be able to drink without getting eyerolls or "we don't have any, you'll have to use paper, it's because of the environment or something".

it feels backhanded, insensitive, unpleasant even, I'm happy to grant all that, but "using" us as a "tool", "off our backs", putting the word "confrontation" in quotes as if it's not a real possibility, there was just so much that went too far for me in your asks. and that is why you're wrong. not because you were offended on behalf of a group you don't belong to, but because you told this story in a very dishonest sounding way, you exaggerated the impact of this, and you potentially disuaded someone from the act of getting aids for disabled people because it upset you.

edit: to clarify, I'm not mad and I don't think you're awful, wrong there was to mean "incorrect", not "simply awful" or whatever. it honestly just feels like ab was doing the thing that'd help people and you were uncomfortable because it's not perfect, and your discomfort is totally valid and understandable, just ultimately the less helpful to the world, of the two options presented here.

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ejzah · 4 years

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A/N: This idea was originally suggested by @mashmaiden and is the next in a series about Deeks at FLETC, but deviates from canon. I put took me a very long time to figure out and I’m still not sure if I am fully happy with it.

In a previous fic, an instructor had asked Deeks to speak on his experience when he was tortured by Sidorov. Since this deals with some events from Descent/Ascension, there is mention of violence, trauma, and PTSD symptoms.

***

A Matter of Experience

Deeks let out a very long breath as he waited for other students to arrive. After a lot of consideration, he had decided to grant Flores’ “offer”. He still absolutely hated the idea, but he knew he was technically doing Flores a favor. Plus, Flores wasn’t wrong. Most of the current candidates had never experienced anything as traumatic as he had.

He hoped they never would.

The night before he’d spent a couple hours going over a rough draft of his presentation. Deeks had also covered some ground rules with Flores. Although he had no control over what questions his classmates would ask, he reserved the right to refuse to answer.

Pulling in another long breath, he closed his eye and rolled his neck a couple of times.

“You ok, Deeks?” Flores asked, actually looking concerned. He had an odd mixture of ruthlessness and deep understanding which didn’t necessarily work well together.

“Yeah, fine. I’m good.” He felt vaguely queasy and restless, but he wasn’t about to tell Flores that. “We never discussed what I should do if no one has questions,” he added. “Do you have a back up lecture?”

“Oh believe me, there’s always questions with this case. We’ll be lucky if we get out on time.” He seemed to realize that he sounded a little insensitive. “Based on what I’ve heard about you, you can handle this Deeks. But if you changed your mind, I won’t judge you.”

That strange feeling of embarrassment returned, but he didn’t have time to evaluate it or respond to Flores as other students started trickling in.

Deeks had purposely chosen a chair to the side and a few rows in where he wouldn’t be too obvious, but could get up without too much trouble. Flores gave them a couple minutes to settle and then walked to the front of the room.

“Good Morning, everyone. I hope you’re all managing your classes alright,” he said. “For today’s class we will be focusing on case study 9.”

He paused as the majority of the class flipped to the appropriate page. Deeks’ pulse pounded faintly in his ears and he swallowed twice, closing his eyes briefly. Even if the details weren’t burned into his memory, he’d reviewed the case, just to be sure he wasn’t caught off guard.

It was surprisingly straightforward, not overly gratuitous and Flores reviewed the details with surprising speed. There was no getting past the pictures though. They were graphic, nauseating. He knew the exact moment everyone saw them and heard someone behind him whisper his name.

When Flores ended the lecture, which was over much faster than Deeks would have liked, he nodded to Deeks and added,

“Now some of you may know that one of your colleagues was involved in this case and he was kind enough to agree to share his experiences with us.” Deeks stood up, joining Flores at the front of the room. “Please welcome Marty Deeks, former LAPD Detective.” Flores gave him what he guessed was supposed to be a supportive pat on the arm and then sat down a few feet away.

It was clear that many of the candidates hadn’t made the connection between him and the battered guy in their text book, but as he glanced around, realized that maybe half the class were watching him with the same strange reverence Omar, Jake, and Charlie had when they first met.

Clearing his throat, he pulled in yet another shallow breath and glanced down at the small stack of notecards in his hand, then stuffed them in his pocket.

“As, uh, Instructor Flores said, I’m Marty Deeks,” he started, pausing to clear his throat again. “But most people just call me Deeks. If any of you have spent more than a few minutes around me, you’ve probably figured out that I have a terrible habit of talking too much.”

A couple people chuckled, but most stayed silent, some looking curious, others intrigued, and a few, mainly Alan, outright suspicious. He’d expected some skepticism since, as usual, he didn’t fit into the mold they expected.

“Like it says in that case study, Agent Hanna and I were captured and held by a Russian arms dealer. They took turns torturing us-“ He swallowed harshly, holding back the shiver that crept up his spine and continued. “to gain information about a colleague who was undercover.

“They had us in separate rooms, but I could still see what they were doing to Agent Hanna. I couldn’t do anything though because I was bound to a chair. I could only watch as they electrocuted him and wait to see what else they had planned for me.”

Before he could continued, Alan raised his hand, his gaze almost defiant and angry as he waited for him to respond.

“Did you have a question?” Deeks asked mildly.

“What was it like?” he said, watching Deeks eagerly, and maybe with a touch of disbelief in his voice as he eyed him. “The case study mentioned that you experienced dental trauma, but it didn’t really go into detail.”

Flores started to intercede from behind him, but Deeks held up a hand, holding him back. If Alan wanted details, he could give him details. He’d avoided the guy as much as possible and put his arrogance and aggressiveness down to immaturity, but now Deeks was truly annoyed.

“No it’s ok.” He smiled tightly at Alan. “One guy shoved this metal device in my mouth so I couldn’t close it. Then Sidorov got out a drill and demanded to know the truth. The whole time I was lying my ass off, trying to keep it together even though I knew he was going to stick that thing in my mouth.”

His breath hitched a little as he felt the phantom pain of the drill bit obliterating his teeth. Someone swore under their breath and Deeks felt perverse satisfaction when Alan squirmed uncomfortably.

Forcing the memories back, he took a couple of slow breaths and then added,

“I ended up with multiple broken teeth, damage to my mandible, and shredded gums-so yeah, dental trauma as they so nicely put it.” Maybe that was going a step too far, but it seemed pointless and Flores had wanted them to know what it was really like. “It took years for me to stop flinching when I heard a drill or to make it through getting my teeth cleaned without almost knocking the hygienist’s lights out. To this day, it’s probably the single most horrific thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Everyone’s eyes were on him, the anticipation and tension almost tangible. A woman-he thought her name was possibly Maria-raised her hand and Deeks nodded for her to speak. Unlike some of her peers, she wasn’t staring at him like he was a particularly interesting soap opera.

“You said it took you years to get over the trauma,” she started a little hesitantly. “Exactly how long did it take?”

“I wish I could tell you that there’s a point when it no longer affects you, but it never really happens,” Deeks said with a gentle smile, sorry he couldn’t give her the answer she so clearly wanted. He saw her face fall and he realized just how young she was and probably pretty horrified at this point. “The memories and dreams and all the other symptoms can lessen over time. They never go away though. That trauma, those scars, they are with you forever.”

“So you’re saying there’s nothing we can do about it?” Another student asked, sounding annoyed and maybe a little scared. “If something like this happens to us, we just live with the trauma for the rest of our lives.”

Deeks shook his head.

“No, there’s a lot you can do. Go to therapy, let the people you love help you, and whatever you do, don’t isolate yourself.” A memory of eating bad takeout with Kensi when he was at his lowest point and added, “Whatever you do, don’t try to face if alone. Believe me, your friends and family will be everything.”

The questions continued for the remainder of the class and as Flores predicted, they went over by 15 minutes. Deeks was completely exhausted and a little shaky, but overall not as much as he had expected. He would probably pay the price for being so explicit about his injuries with a resurgence of nightmares.

“Nice work,” Instructor Flores complimented him as he was packing up his notes and untouched book. “I didn’t expect you to be that...open.”

Deeks grimaced, realizing that he’d basically taken over the class and gone completely off script from what they discussed.

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away.”

“No, you got the point across. And that’s what they needed.” Flores patted his arm and nodded his appreciation. “Thank you.”

Deeks left the room, intending to skip lunch and go straight to bed until his next class. Maybe he’d get in a quick call to Kensi. The sound of her voice sounded very appealing and comforting right now. He was about halfway down the hall when someone called out,

“Deeks!” He groaned, recognizing Alan’s distinctive voice and turned as he approached, not up for dealing with him at the moment. He stopped a couple feet from Deeks, eyeing him warily.

“Was Everything you said in there true?” he asked and Deeks rolled his eyes, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

“No, Alan. I just made it up so I could get free implants,” Deeks answered derisively. “Now are you done trying to intimidate me? Talking about the guys who drilled holes in my mouth is a little bit exhausted.”

Alan flinched, but didn’t back down.

“I wasn’t trying to insult you.” He glared at Deeks as though he’d done something wrong.

“So implying that I embellished a case to make myself sound better isn’t an insult?” Alan muttered a fairly creative curse under his breath and then said,

“I’m sorry for what I said the first time we met. I was wrong about you, ok?” He shook his head, jaw clenched like the words were almost painful for him to say. Looking at the ground, he admitted, “Look, I’m struggling with a lot of the courses.”

“And you’re telling this to the guy you hate because...?” Deeks asked, not overly surprised to hear that Alan wasn’t doing well. He’d heard quite a few stories about him clashing with instructors among other things.

“Because I need help and you seem to actually know what you’re doing,” Alan said bluntly, apparently past his embarrassment. “So what do I need to do?”

Deeks blinked at him for a second, resisting the urge to laugh. Even in a moment of crisis, the guy was still making demands.

“Well one thing that I always have to remind myself about is to not let yourself get cocky.“

Alan gave him an incredulous look and shook his head.

“What? That’s your expert advice? Don’t be cocky.”

“A piece of it. It’s easy to get full of yourself. I do it all the time, but there’s always room to grow. New things to learn,” Deeks told him with a shrug.

“What could you possibly have to learn?” Alan asked acerbically. “I’ve seen you in most of these classes and you don’t even break a sweat. It’s freaking annoying.”

Deeks actually did laugh then and nodded.

“I do have a lot of experience. Like you pointed out, I’m the old guy.” Alan didn’t look amused so he sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Look, if you want you can join the study sessions I have with some of other guys. But if you do, you need to lose the attitude because there’s not time for that.”

Alan clenched his jaw, but nodded in apparent agreement.

“I’ll think about it.” With that he turned abruptly, adding a terse, “Thanks.” As he walked away.

Deeks just watched him go, shaking his head, and glanced down at his watch. If he hurried he could maybe just squeeze in a half hour nap and the call to Kensi.

***

A/N: I know this one ends a little abruptly, but I figure I’ll be writing more in this series.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #Deeks at FLETC #trauma #tw: ptsd #angst?#ejzah fanfiction

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mashounen2003 · 3 years

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Sonic opinions - 1

Honestly, I think it's time for me to give closure to the “Sonic fan phase” of my life. I’ll keep playing the games if they pique my interest, but in terms of the stories they tell and how their characters are portrayed, these games no longer appeal to me. The comic currently published by IDW isn’t complete garbage nor does it have so much drama and controversy surrounding it, in addition to having Whisper and Tangle, two characters I really like at least on a conceptual level, but the story and characterizations are leaving me deeply disappointed and sometimes fall even lower than the recent games written by Pontac & Graff, namely with regard to the characterization of Sonic himself.

The continuity of the TV series Sonic SatAM and the comics published by Archie was always the branch of the franchise that truly caught my attention and is my main source of inspiration for writing stories; in fact, SatAM was the way I found out about Sonic and became a fan in the first place. But this “North-American continuity” is already as dead as the Mega Man Legends saga, and it looks like the vast majority want to forget it as if each and every one of its elements and ideas inherently had just been a massive nightmare regardless of its execution by the writers. At best, the fandom currently sees this branch of Sonic as some silly “edgy” attempt to take the franchise seriously, something that may have been laudable but was always foolish and doomed to fail and is such a risky gamble that it's not worth trying again.

I'm also getting fed up with the Sonic fandom in general, despite sharing a lot of opinions with some individual fans. Yes, I know there are already many who have declared this for the most varied reasons, be it the “shipp wars”, something in Sonic or even the franchise as a whole suddenly becoming “cringe” due to a whim of a majority portion of the fandom, or the way Sonic reuses "hackneyed" tropes in an alleged demonstration of lack of originality; however, when someone gives Sonic the middle finger for this kind of reasons, they usually do it hypocritically.

No, what got me tired of the Sonic fandom is the way everyone becomes obsessed with picking one branch of the franchise, calling it "the true Sonic", claiming this is the only pure and genuine incarnation of the “soul of Sonic” (if there really is such a thing), marking as “foreigner” every character, concept or element from any other branch of the franchise, and demanding from the fans of those other branches to get on their knees and be thankful that the "True Fans (TM)" even allow them to stay in the fandom. Note that I’m not accusing fans of only one specific portion of the franchise: there are such people among fans of the videogames’ continuity, @skull001 being probably the worst offender, but there’s also that kind of people among the SatAM and Archie-Sonic fans, such as the “nostalgic” delusional pissbabies, blatantly homophobic and conservative, who are now supporting Twitter hashtags like “Rally4Sally” and “Udon4Sonic”. You may think this is actually something typical of all fandoms, but it’s not: this is truly something unique to the Sonic fandom; I don't see huge hordes of Mega Man fans bullying the Legends fandom or making fun of them for the way their favourite saga ended two decades ago; even in the Dragon Ball fandom, despite constant discussions about what is canon and what is not, there’s some kind of tacit consensus that GT and Super are two offshoots of the franchise, equally valid although not coexisting in one same fictional universe (although Shūeisha itself seems to officially support this view, which certainly helps prevent some discourse), while the only part of Dragon Ball universally despised (and rightly so) is Dragon Ball Evolution.

I'm sorry if this hurts some people’s sensibilities, but if I decide to write a story with any given set of characters, elements, concepts, setting, internal rules and whatnot, the only thing in my mind will be to write a mildly decent story. I'm not here to “honour” -let alone honour at all costs- some supposed legacy and traditions that some people say should be upheld by each and every Sonic content creator. And let’s be brutally frank: we’re talking about a franchise that started as platformer 16-bit videogames whose sole purpose was to show SEGA’s consoles were better and handled speed better than Nintendo's; SEGA never really intended to tell a story or portray its characters consistently, only later did the cast begin to receive more defined personalities and the games start telling stories because SEGA suddenly saw this would make them sell more, and even that varied wildly according to whatever seemed more convenient at the time; not to mention SEGA's unique habit of entering vicious cycles of failure and over-correction, where Sonic Team makes a few mistakes in a game that did everything else more or less well, SEGA throws away the entire game along with the foundations on which it was built and the story that was told by that game, Sonic Team makes a new game with absolutely everything replaced and makes mistakes again but those mistakes are different from those of the previous game, the process is repeated ad nauseam and no-one is ever satisfied with anything. A few Sonic fans trying to impose on every other fan a supposed single Sonic canon with some kind of official approval seal by SEGA & Sonic Team is something quite backward, because that single official canon almost never really existed, and if it does exist, it makes no sense and is internally inconsistent, dependent on the creation of new games, and very likely to be retconned, overwritten and modified at any time.

There are other "bad habits" of the Sonic fandom that have led me to break ties with them. One of them is the way many fans take one trait of a character, be it simply one of many facets of their personality or even a physical trait, and turn that into the entire personality of the character; many of those same fans are also massive hypocrites, complaining (albeit rightfully) about how SEGA oversimplifies Shadow into either “Sasuke the Hedgehog” or “Vegeta the Hedgehog”, but then they do the same as SEGA. One of the cases in which this is most evident is when they make Sonic's personality boil down to "gotta go fast" and "be a free spirit"; based on that, they denounce that Sonic saying "I would slow down for you" to one of his closest friends (even if Sonic and Sally weren’t a couple when he said that and/or you don’t support that shipp, it can be said she was at least one of his closest friends in the SatAM-Archie continuity) contradicts the very essence of the character, or they do something even worse: saying that "being a free spirit" means being away from your friends and not having "ties" (like... literal ties, made with ropes, the ones that are actually a bad thing) with anything or anyone. It's like when Goku is portrayed by Dragon Ball fans as far more insensitive than the actual way Akira Toriyama had conceived him and always wrote and portrayed him in his official work.

There are also the plainly disturbing ideas many fans seem to have about personal relationships, judging by the opinions they give about the relationships of Sonic and the rest of the cast. In addition to making everything revolve around vaguely defined words and concepts they throw right and left almost without thinking about their actual meaning, they also seem to believe that having friends and caring for them, or any kind of responsibility no matter what kind it is, is nothing but a drag, like rat-s*** stopping you on your way to "freedom" (this is just amazing: they say the entire Western canon is edgy and the British comic’s Sonic is a jerk, but if you think about this for a bit, these fans’ version of Sonic turns out to be even edgier and more of a jerk than Shadow in his spin-off videogame); in the case of Archie-Sonic, there are all the abuse apologists supporting Scourge and Fiona being a couple, even though you don’t need any “meta” analysis to see he’s (at the very least) verbally abusive towards her and had attracted her by posing as someone else in the first place.

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itstheelvenjedi · 3 years

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Abled people quit acting like disabled people are automatically inferior and need “fixing” just because we can’t do things you do/do things different to the way you do them challenge

Ableds will deadass go “I don’t mean to be insensitive and offensive but...” and then immediately say something, shock horror, insensitive and offensive.

Example, because this is brought on by a convo I had with a friend who I am sure was well-meaning but here’s the thing bc to disabled people it doesn’t come across that way and you ableds need to learn that bc you keep doing it and it’s so annoying:

Talking to a friend about art stuff etc. they immediately attempt to suggest that because I shake so much & holding pen(cils) - including tablet pens - is both painful and impractical for me, I should do x, or buy y, z thing to “help” me draw with a tablet pen.

This might seem like well-meaning advice to you if you’re able-bodied and haven’t had to go through the struggles I have to learn to do art the way I do it and then on top of that to like the art I make, but let me break down to you why this is actually a very bad thing to say.

I’ve practised, learned and to the best of my ability perfected the way I draw with a mouse for oh...about 12 years now. And it’s taken me at least 7-8 of those years to

a) stop comparing myself to other artists who are able-bodied, more skilled than me, or both of these things

b) develop a style of my own that is aesthetically pleasing enough to get me a little bit of interaction/comments/whatever, and not totally drain every spoon I have in the process of doing so

c) after all of that, not over-criticise and belittle the hard work I did put into a piece, such that I break it down so much that I hate it enough to never want to make another piece of art ever again

I’m not selling my art, and again, it’s taken me at least 8 years to make peace with the fact that because of my limitations (& my shitty self-esteem caused by them) I will never be able to sell my art.

But that’s okay. I don’t really want to sell my art anymore. I make it for fun. I make art because I enjoy making art. So, I don't need to be "better at art" than some other artist, it's not a fucking competition & I don't lose anything by drawing in the medium I've got the most skill & practise in. So, if my goal/reasoning for making art is to have fun and enjoy what I'm drawing, then why in the ever loving fuck would I want to put the 12 years of hard work I put into it in the garbage and go all the way back to square one (including hating the way everything I draw looks so much that I want to cry and feeling so unhappy with it that I never want to draw another piece in my life ever) just because someone else thinks It Would Look Better if I did.

Now, imagine all of that, and then an able-bodied person comes along and says:

“well it’s good, BUT it’d be better if you learned to use a tablet-” or “have you considered trying x instead of your current drawing method because that would be better”, or variations thereof (and I’m not saying that you have to like my art style, you might not, and that’s okay! Everyone has different tastes and some things will appeal to one person, but not to the next one etc.) *

But you really have to be a special kind of priveledged to look at someone’s hard work that they are proud of for what it is and then go on to do nothing but tell them what’s wrong with it according to you. Would you go to a rock concert and then complain about the music being “too raucous because you like classical music”, for example? I don’t think so. I mean, you’d be pretty stupid if you did (and also an asshole), So stop doing it to artists, especially disabled artists. I am begging you.

*And I am not saying “don’t ever provide (constructive) criticism to disabled people’s art” either before some abled clown jumps on that. There’s a big difference between “hey I noticed this particular thing in your art/style and I think if you tried to do more of x thing differently or added a bit more of y thing it would look more (anatomically accurate, atmospheric, highlight a part of the piece well, whatever)” - I’ve received many criticisms of this nature that have been very helpful to me over the years and my art has definitely gotten better by taking it & applying it to my drawing process - and “well able-bodied artists who draw with tablets do this infinitely better because they literally have physical abilities you don’t and therefore that invalidates any number of years or amount of effort you’ve put in to make something that you’re happy with because it’s not perfect enough”

or, and this one bothered me the most today

“I hate knowing that (because of your disability affecting your ability to hold pen(cil)s) causes issues with your art skills”

Note the particular words I’ve highlighted in this case, because the thing is, with this wording, this is what that sentence sounds like:

“Oh wow, you must feel SO bad that you’re not good enough! You definitely shouldn’t feel happy or proud of the progress you’ve made, because it’s not as good as an able-bodied artist’s work and that must be TERRIBLE.”

Kinda a douchy thing to say when you put it like that, huh? YEAH. THAT’S THE POINT. When you make comments like this, it implies that any progress I have made over the 12 years I’ve been practising and drawing things for fun because I like doing it, doesn’t fucking matter because I don’t match up to some arbitrary standard of “How Art Look Good” set largely by, abled people. You’re calling the HOURS of time & effort I put into getting myself this far a fucking issue as if it’s something that is inconvenient or in the way and not an achievement I’m allowed to be proud of because it’s “Good Enough” according to The Ableds(tm).

Bitch, NO, I’m PROUD of how my art looks and I’m fucking sick and tired of abled people coming in with their “well meaning” comments like this.

It’s not well meaning, it’s insulting. Fucking stop it!

Or I’ll start hitting you with my crutch and telling you to stop complaining that it hurts because it doesn’t hurt me when I hit you with it so you know, it can’t possibly be painful for you, and see how you like it.

This one got very specific relating to art/the convo I had, but I feel like the basic principle can be applied to any situation, really.

As a mildly-tangental closing note: Also, if a disabled person responds to a statement of this sort saying something like “well actually I don’t really think it’s a problem that I need to fix because I’ve put a lot of effort into getting as far as I have and I’m proud of myself for that”

For the love of all that is holy, do not then start your abled pity party of “oh my gosh I’m so sorry!! I feel so awful!” and “I feel guilty now, I didn’t mean to offend you!”

Why? Because the Laws of Social Decency dictate that if I say “well you should feel guilty, because what you said was shitty and it did offend me, actually. Stop doing that.” then I am the asshole because I hurt your poor widdle feelings.

So what do I then have to do? Immediately pander to your feelings by saying “no no, it’s okay!” and “I get what you were trying to say, it’s fine, it wasn’t offensive” (even though it was incredibly offensive!) just to defuse the situation and not look like a dick.

If you didn’t want me to call you out on it, maybe you should check yourself before you start shit and make yourself look like an ableist dick.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#a talking post #elven rants #tw: ableism #long post #hi i'm salty and therefore i must yell about it

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the-small-one-to-rule-them-all · 5 years

Text

How to Befriend a Dragon

summary: Virgil is a shapeshifter who can turn into a dragon. he is hurt, gets lost, and meets a nice witch who seems to want to help.

pairings: none, platonic moxiety

warnings: talk of abuse, mildly descriptive flashbacks, mild description of injury, blood mention, dissociation, mild description of a panic attack, crying, unsympathetic remus, please let me know if I missed anything

a/n: this is written is second person pov. It’s different, I know, but I felt it fit with the story and it happened rather naturally. I actually had a lot of fun writing it just with that technical aspect, but I also love the story. yes its hurt comfort, because i seem to be incapable of writing anything else lol. I hope you guys enjoy!

You have been running for so long. You realise you’re lost. Your legs ache. Your lungs burn. You just keep going, keep running, keep walking, keep stumbling. You slow after a while and your legs give out under you. You see a bush nearby and curl up underneath it, hoping against all hope that he won't find you again.

You wake up when someone almost steps on your sleeping body, “Oh, sorry I didn't see you there!”

You curl up further into yourself, hoping this man will leave you alone.

“Well lookie here!” He breathes, almost in awe. “Hello, I've never seen a dragon like you around here before. You must be a long way from home. All the cat-sized dragons i've seen are in the cities. Are you lost?”

You nod, wincing at the pain shooting down your back from the effort of lifting your head.

The man’s eyes grow wide, “Oh dear, you’re hurt! Oh that looks like it must hurt something awful! I have some healing supplies back in my cabin, why don't you come with me and let me help you?” he says reaching out to you.

You flinch and pull away from him. You try to hiss but nothing comes out... your voice is gone.

The man pulls his hand back with a confused look on his face before relaxing. “Wait, i'm sorry, i'm being rather insensitive aren’t I? You must be scared of me, you don't even know me. Have I even introduced myself? I don't think I have, how rude of me. I’m Patton. I'm a witch, i've been out gathering herbs all evening. I live just a few hundred yards that way. I have this garden where I grow all sorts of things. I have everything from carrots to violets. my favorites are the rosemary and-”

You listen to him talk on and on happily about the things he grows in his garden, the plants he keeps around his house, and his favorite flowers. By the time he stops talking you have relaxed a bit. This man feels safe.

“Oh, would you look at that, the sun is going down already. I have enough herbs for today so I'm going to go back to my cabin. Do you care to join me?”

You look at him hesitantly.

“You don't have to, but I didn't think you would want to spend the night out here hurt, what with the coyotes and all.”

At the mention of coyotes you shudder. You think about it for another minute and then stand and take a shaky step towards Patton, and another. And suddenly your legs give out under you and you land hard on the forest floor.

Patton rushes forward to you, “My golly, are you okay? Please, don't push yourself. Here, why don't you ride in my basket?”

You look from the man to the basket of herbs and nod, wherever he is taking you will be safer than the woods. If you can't even walk you might as well be somewhere a little more comfortable.

He smiles, “Okay.” He sets down his basket and opens it. “If I'm going to pick you up what would be the best way to do that?”

You gesture to your stomach with your head.

“Hands under you?”

You nod.

“Okay, I'll be as gentle as I can.” He slowly moves around beside you and wraps one hand under your chest and the other under your belly and gently lifts you into the basket, taking care to avoid pinching your wings.

You curl up in the basket, feeling safe in the nest-like space.

“You okay?”

You nod.

He smiles, “Great, let’s go.” He carefully picks up the basket and walks softly back to his cabin.

It is just as he had described, surrounded by a garden full of vegetables and fruits of all sorts, even some flowers and ivy cover the area close to his porch.

He opens the door and steps inside and as the warmth envelops you, you realise just how cold you had been. You sigh soundlessly as the warmth rejuvenates you and slowly you feel the ache leave your limbs.

“You are cold-blooded right?” Patton asks.

You nod, wriggling further into the blanket of herbs.

He chuckles, “I'm glad you’re comfy in there, but I'm going to make you a bed near the fireplace with some blankets and an ice-pack so you can regulate your temperature comfortably, alright?”

You smile and nod, maybe this guy is trying to help you after all.

Once again you wake up to Patton’s voice, but this time it’s a shriek.

“Oh my gosh who are you?! When did you get here and what did you do with my dragon friend?!”

You open your eyes and bolt your head up, only to realise it won't move much... you’re human again now. You must’ve shifted during the night. You pull the sheet around yourself tighter.

Patton is staring at you with wide eyes and what looks like a wand in his hand. “Where is my dragon friend?” He asks again.

You point at yourself, at your heart, hoping he understands.

He squints, “What do you mean? Why won’t you talk to me? Use words!”

You raise a hand to your neck and lift your head to show Patton the scar across it. Revealing the reason your vocal cords wont work, they haven’t healed properly. They might never.

Patton’s breath hitches, “Fine, no words then. But I still don't understand what you mean and I'm worried about my friend who was sleeping right where you are last night! If you hurt him you’ll regret it I promise you that!”

You blink long and slow at him, a sign you hope he will recognise as one of peace. Then you will yourself to shift, glowing as you turn back into a dragon.

When the light from your transformation fades Patton gasps and drops his wand, “You’re... a shifter?”

You nod slowly, curling into yourself. You hope he isn't angry and won't hold it against you for scaring him.

His eyes widen as the reality of the situation hits him. He has to know about the trafficking, you just hold onto the hope he won't sell you back to them.

“Did... did you escape?” He asks gently.

The question hangs heavy in the air. You don't answer, which is almost an answer itself. You know your old master will have put out a search for you and already gotten a new dragon to replace you in his service in case you died. He is probably planning on killing you when he gets you back anyway. You can't go back, you won't. You would rather die from coyotes than at his hands.

Patton kneels down, getting closer to your level, he looks a bit less threatening this way. “I won't take you back there if that’s what you’re worried about. I would never hurt you, would never let you get hurt like that. I promise.”

You look away. How could you trust a promise from a human, after everything? You can't tell him. You won't. He will send you back. He will send you to your death.

Patton sighs, “I... I'm sorry, that is a bit of a personal question, huh?”

You close your eyes and nod.

Patton frowns solemnly, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. But uh, whether you escaped or not, I would still like to help heal you, if you would let me.”

You stare at him skeptically. No human has ever been nice to you like this before. Have they offered you shelter and some food, sure. Given you a place to sleep the night in their barn, sure. Brought you into their house? Offered to heal you? Never. Never has a human touched you in a way that was gentle. Never has a human wanted to help you. Never has a human tried to heal you properly. No one, before him. How can you believe him?

You tilt your head, hoping your complete befuddlement and skepticism show through.

“Would you like to inspect my supplies before you decide?”

You shake your head. You don't want to know what kinds of torture devices this man may have. He can do whatever he wants with you. You don't want to know what he wants.

Patton frowns, “How about this? I have a cut on my leg that I got this morning while out gardening. Why don't you watch me tend to it for myself before you decide?”

You give a single nod and Patton hobbles off to get his supplies.

When he comes back, he has a larger collection of jars than you thought he might. Though considering he is a witch you realise you shouldn't be so surprised. He also has a basket with several kinds of things in it that you can't quite identify, though you see some cloth sticking out.

As Patton sets his supplies down, he settles himself against the side of the of his chairs with a pillow under him. He rolls up his pant leg and you see an open cut on the side of his leg, he hisses as the fabric sticks to it. Then he takes a damp cloth and dabs away the dried blood around it, wiping away the mess to see it better. Then he takes a dry cloth and dries the wound.

You tilt your head, intrigued as he grabs a jar and opens it. He scoops out a small amount and applies it to the cut, grunting at the first touch and wincing slightly as he rubs it along the length of the cut. Then he takes a piece of cloth from the basket and folds it a few times so it is the proper size to cover the area around the cut. He then opens several jars and applies several ointments and such to the cloth, before grabbing another strip from the basket. He places the folded piece against the cut and wraps it, securing the bandage section of the cloth in place.

When he finishes, he wipes his hands on a clean washcloth and turns to you, “See, no big deal. I won't do anything to you that I wouldn’t also do to myself.”

You blink at him a moment. Perhaps you can trust this man. If anything you would rather he tend to your wounds than someone at the trafficking center. So you nod.

“Would... would you be willing to change back into a human for me? I don't know how to properly secure bandages on dragons, and it gives me a bit more room to work with. If not that is okay and we can figure this out together.”

You blep in thought and notice Patton forcefully holding back what must be a squeal of delight.

You concede and hold the blanket close around your waist as you change back.

Patton smiles, “Thank you for trusting me.”

He hasn't even done anything yet.

“Do you want to scoot over here or should I come join you?”

You pat the space next to you and Patton nods, “Okay.”

In just a few moments he has all his items surrounding the two of you.

“Where would you like to start?”

You point to your neck. You much prefer he helps where you can watch him before you let him work on your back.

Patton nods and scoots closer grabbing a new wet cloth.

“Don't worry, it's warm.” he says as he reaches up and gently cleans your neck.

His hands are gentle and the cloth is soothing, it doesn’t even hurt, but you can't help it as your breathing quickens while he works. Just his proximity is enough to make you nervous, much less his actions.

Patton frowns as he notices the look on your face, “Is something wrong?” He asks.

You notice your mouth is pulled into a tight lipped line, your brows furrowed ever so slightly. You smile, a fake show of contentedness, and shake your head.

Patton frowns, “Does it hurt?” he asks.

You blink, and shake your head once more.

“Am... am I scaring you? Are you not ready? We don't have to do this.”

You shake your head. Maybe he is scaring you a little bit, but it isn't anything he could fix. And maybe you aren't ready but you would rather it be him than anyone else so you lie. You lie through your teeth without even speaking a word.

Patton sets down the towel and sighs. “You don't have to do this to appease me. From what I can tell, nothing looks infected so it is safe to wait until you’re ready. I don't want to push you.”

You shake your head, you want him to do it, heal you, get it over with. You just want some proof he won't actually hurt you but you can't help the fear. You realise you’re crying and you try to force the tears to stop but they only fall faster.

He reaches towards your face and you pull back. Then you realise he just wanted to wipe away your tears. You close your eyes and lean forward towards him, scared of what he will do, scared of proximity, scared of touch, but all you want right now is a hug.

Gently he whispers, “Can I wipe away your tears?”

You nod and gasp softly as you feel his hands on your face yet you lean into the touch. He runs a hand through your hair, holding the back of your head to hold you steady. “Shh, there you are. Let it out. It’s okay to cry.”

You let yourself go, the tears that had built up breaking free. All the panic in running away and the past few days, the fear of being caught, the pain, all the pain of everything, the hope that maybe this man won't hurt you, and the exhaustion of it all, they hit you all at once as you break down.

“Can I hug you?”

You pull the sheet tighter to yourself and shake your head. You’re far too scared to let that happen.

“Okay. I won't. I promise. Would you like something that feels like a hug but does not require the contact?”

You nod and he nods back, “Okay, I’ll get you my special blanket. Hold on, I will be right back, okay?”

You sniffle and nod, wondering what kind of special blanket this man has. Then he returns with the blanket, he drapes it around your shoulders. It’s heavy.

“It’s a weighted blanket. I have it to help me sleep, but I find it comforting in a lot of other situations too.”

You pull it closer and relax under it. I kinda does feel like a hug, it is very comforting at least. Slowly your tears stop but your breathing has yet to calm. You feel you can't control it and nearly started to cry again.

Patton catches your attention with a wave of his hand, “Hey, it's okay, breathe with me, okay?”

You blink in understanding as Patton starts to breathe slowly. You do your best to copy him but it ends up all hiccuped and shaky and it isn't working.

“Good job, let's do that again.”

Good job? I didn't do a good job, you think as you follow the pattern again. Every time you finish Patton encourages you and after a few repetitions you feel your breathing return to normal.

Patton smiles, “There we are, do you feel any better now?”

You nod and manage to give Patton a small smile.

Patton beams back at you. “I'm glad. Now I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. Why don't I go make us breakfast?”

You pull at the sheet, if you’re staying you would really like to have some clothes to wear.

“Oh! Of course. Why don't I get you some proper clothes! I should have some things in your size, you look just a size down from me.” Patton jumps up and you hear him rustling around in the other room. You think this might just end up okay. Maybe he won't hurt you or turn you in after all.

A few weeks later, after you’ve been living here with Patton for a while, you decide your ready to have him heal you. So, sou gather the supplies and set them on the table in the kitchen, and sit next to them, waiting for Patton to come in from the garden.

Sure enough, about two minutes later he comes through the door. When he sees you with the supplies he smiles, “You ready now?”

You nod.

He joins you at the table after washing his hands, “It looks like you got everything we should need. I'm impressed. Is there a certain place you would like to start?”

You once again gesture to your throat

“Okay,” Patton says grabbing some supplies.

You reach over and tug on his sleeve

“Yes, kiddo?”

You point to his wand and back to your throat, hoping he understands.

After a pause he sighs, “You're asking me to use magic to heal your throat?”

You nod.

Patton sets down the supplies he had grabbed, “Oh, kiddo, I wish I could. I... throats are complicated and it’s so easy to mess up. I don't want to hurt you more.”

You feel your demeanor drop as you realise what he is saying.

“I'm so sorry, I just really don't want to hurt you.”

You sigh and nod. You understand.

“Do... do you still want to do this?” Patton asks, gesturing to the supplies on the table.

You nod enthusiastically.

“Okay. I'm glad.” Patton continues to take things out and arrange them for a minute before turning back to you. “So, throat first?”

You nod, lifting your chin so he has easy access.

Patton gently lifts a warm washcloth, “I know you’ve washed yourself but there’s no harm in taking precautions, right?”

You smile and resist the urge to flinch as the warm cloth touches your skin. You close your eyes as he works, it actually is rather relaxing. He then proceeds to pat the skin dry.

“Your neck is actually healing quite nicely, I don't think it needs any ointments or anything.”

You bring your head back down and nod.

“So what should I work on next?”

You turn around and remove your shirt, exposing your back to Patton.

You hear the man’s sharp intake of breath as he takes in the sight of it. You hunch over, holding your knees and wait for him to start.

“You have some nasty cuts here. I’ll tend to those first, then I have some bruise cream which should help with the swelling and calm some of the pain, okay?”

You nod, you didn't even know bruise cream existed, but considering he is a witch it isn't all that surprising.

“I'm going to lay a hand on your right shoulder to give myself balance as I work, is that okay with you?”

You nod again and let your mind drift away from your body as he speaks.

“If you want or need me to stop please tap my hand twice, okay?”

You tap his hand once in understanding and he smiles, “Okay. I'm going to work on the cuts now.”

You feel so floaty that at first you barely register the warmth of the washcloth. But the sting of the antiseptic hits you hard and it brings you back so fast it makes your head spin. You let a gasp slip through your teeth and cringe at the sound of it.

Immediately Patton stops what he is doing, “Are you okay?”

You tap his hand once.

“Does it sting?”

You nod.

Patton humms, “Okay. Thank you for letting me know. I’m sorry it hurts, but it stings because the cut has dirt in it and the ointment is cleaning it out. I'm going to need to keep cleaning it, okay?”

You nod and let yourself float away again, this time the sting fades a little as Patton works. You do not let yourself make another sound.

Patton frowns as he finishes cleaning the wounds and sets down the cloth, “Kiddo?”

You tap his hand once again.

“Thank you for letting me finish, but just so you know, you’re allowed to make noises if it hurts, I'm not going to be mad. I'm not saying you have to, but if you need to, you don't have to hold them in.”

Your mind races. I'm allowed to make noises? That goes against everything master has always wanted from me. This has to be a trap. Does Patton just want an excuse to hurt me? Why would he do that to me while healing me? You cannot wrap your head around what Patton is saying, so you just ignore it and tap his hand again.

“Okay Kiddo. I'm going to apply some ointments now. They will help with healing and reduce pain, but applying them does hurt a bit. Are you okay with that or would you rather I just apply bandages and bruise cream?”

You tap his hand once. He might as well apply them, it can't hurt that bad.

“Are you sure? You already seem a bit tense and I don't want to push you. The ointments aren’t strictly necessary.”

You freeze, you don't know the right choice. What does he want me to choose? What will he do if I choose wrong? Will he throw me out? What is going to happen?

Patton notices your pause and rubs his thumb soothingly over your shoulder.

You jump into position, head up, eyes unfocused. You wait for instructions, for pain, for anything.

Patton quickly pulls his hand from your shoulder and slowly comes around to face you.

“Kiddo?” he says hesitantly, “Hey, kiddo, would you look at me? Can you do that?”

He watches as you turn unfocused eyes to him.

He reaches up and gently takes your hand and suddenly the world is clear again. What just happened? Where am I? Why is he not hurting me? What... oh. Oh no! He must hate me now. I'm so broken.

Patton watches as you come back down to earth, panic hitting you, then shame as you drop your head to your knees. You can't believe that just happened.

Patton makes a small noise as he notices your return to reality, “How about we take a break, hmm. I’ll bandage you up and we can rest on the couch, or you can go wander in the garden. I’ll make you tea if you like.”

You shrug.

“Okay. Well I'll let you think about what you would like while I bandage you up. Then you can use the pad of paper I set out to tell me what you would like, how’s that?”

You shrug again and Patton sighs, moving around you to sit so he can bandage you up.

While he works, your brain wanders. He asked what you want to do. You’ve learned that that is a dangerous question. I don't know what I want. I haven't wanted anything in awhile. How do I know I won’t want the wrong thing? Thoughts plague your mind, but you make yourself focus on the feeling of Patton bandaging your back and they slow. as they do, you realise you don't feel like moving at all, and a warm drink makes that more comfortable. So you decide that’s what you’ll say you want.

When Patton finishes you put your shirt back on and he cleans up, sliding you the pad of paper for when you decide.

You write down your response and show it to him when he comes back.

“Relaxing on the couch with tea sounds wonderful, any particular kind you want?”

You shake your head, you barely know what flavors of tea he has.

“Okay, would you like something sweet or earthy?”

“Sweet.” you write.

“Okay, why don't you go relax on the couch, grab a blanket if you are cold, and i’ll make the tea while you wait.”

You nod numbly and go lay on the couch, blanket pulled over your legs, pad of paper in your hands. You have so many thoughts and you can't help but want to write them down, even if no one ever sees them.

You write stream-of-consciousness style while you wait, just to get your thoughts all in a place you can see. Looking it over you realise there is a sentiment that keeps repeating itself, “Patton doesn't want to hurt me, I don't know why, but he doesn't want to hurt me.” You think over the events of the past weeks fondly and realise that maybe... maybe you can trust Patton not to physically harm you. He has had plenty of chances, more than you can count, and he hasn't hurt you once. You cannot be certain, but you decide to let yourself entertain the hope, and that is almost better.

About a month or so later, you two have formed a really good communication system. He is pretty good at understanding your facial expressions and gestures, and you have started keeping notebooks and pencils all around the house for when you feel like having an actual conversation. You have actually had some really good conversations together. You told him your name a few days ago. He gently tore the paper off the pad when it was used up and asked to keep it. You smiled, you wouldnt stop him.

Today, you wake up in your room to hear several voices coming from the living room. It is typical for you to wake up to the sound of Patton singing or humming, or even talking to himself as he makes breakfast. This is different. There are two more voices coming from the living room other than Patton. You feel your heart pounding in your chest. Patton finally did bring in people from the trade center. He isn't going to keep me after all. He was only helping nurse me back to health so he could get more gold from the traders. He betrayed me just like everyone else. You rush to get dressed and ready before you crack the door open and peek out at the guests.

They don't seem like the people from other centers that you have met before, they are dressed in brighter colors and one of them had a walking stick or staff with them. The other seems rather cheerful and animated, a stark contrast to the gruff, quiet, unreadable people you have seen at the center before.

They seem to be chatting easily with Patton about his garden and crops and you can't help but wonder if this is just what Patton does. If he goes around finding different dragons and helping to nurse them back to health... before turning them in. You shudder at the thought and it nearly makes you cry on the spot. Have you been expecting something like this? Yes. But that doesn’t make the betrayal hurt any less. You had almost believed Patton wouldnt turn you in. You don't want to believe what you see in front of you, but you can't deny reality.

You close the door and sit on your bed head in your hands. You have nothing to take with you, not that you could bring anything with you anyway. You just sit there, barely holding back tears until Patton opens the door a few minutes later.

“Hey Kiddo, I have some surprise guests! My friends are visiting from out of town and- oh Virgil, what’s wrong?” Patton asks closing the door behind him and grabbing the notepad and pencil off your bedside table.

You take the paper and pencil from him as the tears start to fall. And you write.

“I don't want to go back. I didn't think you would turn me in. I thought you were different.” You hand him the paper and you wait, ready for the rejection and holding back your tears as much as you can so the traffickers outside can't hear.

Patton takes your shaking hand in his, “Oh, Virgil no. No no no no no no no! You misunderstand. Those aren't people from the trafficking center. They are my close friends from out of town. I'm not turning you in. I would never! Why would I?”

You shrug, you cannot gather the courage to meet his eyes.

Patton seems disappointed, “I would never. I... I thought you might trust me more than that.”

You take the pad back from him, “Want to. Didn't want to think you would. Can’t afford to believe you would help me for no reason. I need to be prepared.” You write.

“Prepared for what? Me turning you in?”

You nod solemnly, your breath hiccupping.

Patton sniffs and you look up, shocked to see him crying. “Virgil, I...” He sighs, “I know it must be hard to believe i'd be nice to you after everything. I have no idea what you’ve been through, but I thought maybe you would... maybe it was enough.”

“I want to believe you. Want you to care about me.”

Patton doesn't even attempt to hide his tears, “Oh kiddo, I do! I do care! I care about you so much. I would never want to see you hurt! Please believe me V. I care.... I mean, you... you’ve seen me crying over killing spiders even though I hate them. I don't hate you, how much more would I hate myself if I hurt you?”

You sniffle and go to write once more, “I.. I guess that makes sense.”

“Please Virgil, believe me when I say I'm never turning you in.”

“I... I think I'm starting to believe you,”

Patton smiles wide, “Can I hug you, V?”

You nod and wrap your arms around Patton, the two of you cry, not caring about your tears, resting in each other’s presence.

When finally you both calm down Patton squeezes you tight and asks, “Would you like to meet my friends now?”

You nod but you don't let go for a few more seconds.

When you pull away you realise how much of a mess you both are, but you don't really care. If these people are friends of Patton then maybe you won't have to worry about looking your best around them.

There is a faint knock at the door, “Hey Padre, are you okay in there?”

Patton stands and opens the door, wiping the tears from his eyes, “Yeah, just a bit of a misunderstanding. You see, we weren't expecting company and well... it’s no big deal, it’s all straightened out now.”

You freeze. Standing there, on the other side of the door, in front of you... in front of Patton... it’s Him! Patton said they weren't from the center! Why would he lie?

You scramble into the corner, clutching the pad of paper desperately.

The man sees you and his eyes widen, “Uh, are you sure? Is your friend okay?”

Patton turns around to see you curled up in the corner at the head of your bed crying and shaking your head.

“Virgil...?” Patton steps in cautiously

The “friend” steps in behind Patton and you let out a soundless scream and throw a pillow at him which he dodges before leaving and shutting the door. You immediately regret throwing the pillow. He is going to punish me now. I shouldn’t have thrown that. I should’ve gone peacefully. Now he will kill me for sure! I don't want to die! I should never have stayed here, I should’ve run away as soon as I could.

Patton slowly approaches you, a look of confusion on his face. “Why’d you do that? What is wrong, Virgil?”

He doesn’t seem angry? You don't understand, but you figure you might as well explain. So you tear off the top page and begin a new one, scribbling furiously as the pencil smudges with tears.

“I thought you said you wouldn't send me back! Why would you lie?” You shove the paper in Patton’s direction.

He reads it, confusion never leaving his face. He hands it back to you, “I.. I'm not sending you back Virgil. I didn't lie to you. I don't understand what’s wrong.”

“You invited Master here! That's my Master! He hurt me! I don't understand! You said you wouldn’t... I thought... you said! Please don't let him kill me. I don't want to die” You run out of words as your thoughts scramble and you turn the paper towards Patton.

As he reads Patton’s face turns sad, an understanding crosses his face, and a pity.

“Oh... kiddo, that’s not... that’s not the man that hurt you. That horrible man, his name is Remus. Outside the door is his twin brother, my friend, Roman. They aren’t anything alike. He would never hurt you.”

“I don't believe you. That is him. He is going to kill me.”

“No one is going to lay a hand on you Virgil. I swear it. What can I do to convince you? Would talking to him help?” Patton asks gently.

You curl up tighter into a ball, “Don't wanna talk to him. Crying is disrespectful. He’ll hurt me.”

“I understand that was a rule you used to have, but that isn't a rule here. You will never be punished for showing emotion. And I promise you, Roman won't hurt you. Would I let anyone hurt you?” Patton asks, a little sterner this time.

You shake your head, “I still don't trust him.”

Patton nods, “That’s okay. I'm not asking you to. I'm asking if you trust me?”

You nod.

“Then please, talk to him, let him explain.”

“Don't leave me alone with him! Please!”

patton shakes his head, “I won't, I wouldn’t do that to you. Would it be okay if he stays at the doorway and I stay in here with you.”

You nod, against your better judgement.

“Okay. Thank you for trusting me. I’ll go let him know the situation and make sure he knows your boundaries and then I will be right back.” Patton gets up and steps outside the door, closing it behind him. You hear him talking with the man there. Roman sounds sad but you are hesitant to believe anything the man says.

Patton comes back in and sits on the bed between you and Roman.

The man leans against the doorframe. “Hello, Virgil, is it?”

You nod.

Roman sighs, “First things first, I just want to tell you, I'm sorry. I must've terrified you just showing up like that and I'm so sorry for scaring you. I wish we were meeting each other under different circumstances, but let me introduce myself.” He bows to you before speaking again, “I’m Roman. I am not my brother, I promise you. I... I know my brother is a terrible person. I know what he does to people like you and I wish there were enough words in the English language for me to explain how sorry I am that you had to endure... him. I'm so so so tremendously sorry he hurt you like that.”

You stare at him, “That doesn’t sound like master. He doesn’t have the same mustache as master. Is this a trick? Could he really be someone else?”

Roman shakes his head, looking away, “I wish there was something I could say but I, I know nothing I say is going to make it better. Just... please, know i'm not like him. I would never lay a hand on you. I swear it on my life, on the life of my mother and my father. I swear on all that I hold dear that I would never hurt a hair on your head.”

This man is not acting like your old master. Maybe he is a different person. You write a response and show your words to Patton.

“How can I know for sure that you wont hurt me?” Patton reads for you.

Roman chuckles wryly, “Well, first off Patton would kill me if I ever even thought about it, but on a more serious note... let me show you something.”

Patton looks shocked, “Roman you don't have-”

Roman smiles sadly at him, “I want to do this, Padre. He deserves to know.”

Roman turns around and grabs the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up to expose his back. Your eyes widen as you take in the scars peppered across the skin, most noticeably, the brand on the lower right corner of his back... one that perfectly matches your own.

After a moment Roman speaks, though his voice shakes, “My brother was horrible to me. I know what you went through... because I went through it too. If you wanted anything that could promise my pacifism, let it be the knowledge that I have endured what you have and wish it to never befall anyone else, not even my worst enemies.”

Your hand goes to your own brand as you realise what all this means. Memories of Remus mentioning his brother flood back to you and you fight to ward off a panic attack as everything falls into place.

Roman lowers his shirt and turns around. Finally, you look at him without fear. This man would never hurt you. He doesn't even ask if you believe him, he just slowly steps forward, watching closely for a reaction.

You let him sit across from you on the head of the bed and take your hands. He kisses each hand and looks you in the eyes with confidence and sincerity, “He is never going to hurt you again. I promise.”

You try to hold back the tears, but it doesn’t last and you break down crying. He pulls you in close, hugging you tightly. You calm relatively soon and pull away only to see Patton crying just a few feet away.

You reach out to him and he takes your hand, “I’m okay. I will be okay.”

The three of you take a moment to collect yourselves before Roman clears his throat, “Uh, I believe there is still one more friend to meet.” he prompts.

Patton startles, “Of course, you should come meet Logan. He would love to meet you!”

#hobbit writes #shapeshifter!virgil #witch!patton #platonic moxiety #its written in 2nd person #mild injury #crying #reference to abuse #patton is so nice #i dont know how to tag this sorry #i hope you like it #please reblog if you do #unsympathetic remus

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ruthfeiertag · 4 years

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Random Ruminations on Depression

Preamble:

I want to take back the word ruminate. The Online Etymology Dictionary explains that the word “ruminate (v.)” dating from the 1530s, means “'to turn over in the mind,’ also ‘to chew cud’ (1540s), from Latin ruminatus, past participle of ruminare ‘to chew the cud; turn over in the mind,' from rumen (genitive ruminis) ‘gullet,’ of uncertain origin.” Merriam-Webster Online Gives the definition of ruminate as

transitive verb

1: to go over in the mind repeatedly and often casually or slowly 2: to chew repeatedly for an extended period

intransitive verb

1: to chew again what has been chewed slightly and swallowed : chew the cud 2: to engage in contemplation : REFLECT

https://pixabay.com/photos/pensive-female-woman-window-staring-580611/

But psychology — and in general I have real respect and genuine gratitude for the healing and support psychology and psychotherapists provide; if I kept a gratitude journal, my therapist’s name would be on every page — has come near to ruining this apt word that perfectly expresses the way many of us need or choose to take the time to ponder and deliberate rather than hasten to judge or get embroiled in the consequences of an ill-considered decision. Psychology, as a field, has decided ruminate should mean obsessively thinking about whatever is bothering one, over and over and over…

I think one of the reasons this definition has become popular, not only among psychologists, but in the general public as well, is that we have such short attention spans and have come to prize speed over all else. We rush to embrace technology that robs us of our privacy, we don’t stay to watch the credits after a movie (unless there’s an added scene), we expect to know the results of every election before the votes are all counted. Take a breath, people. Being ruminative used to be a positive attribute, one that indicated one was a careful, thoughtful person, not inclined to fling one’s self pell-mell off a cliff. Now it is a weakness, a character flaw that indicates one brings one’s misfortunes upon one’s self because one can’t control one’s thoughts.

Join me in my mission. Let’s rescue ruminate. Start using it in its proper sense. Fling it with abandon into your philosophical conversations: “I was ruminating upon the meaning of life the other day and wondering just what 42 really has to do with it.” If someone tries to push you into making a snap decision, say, “You know, in order to give you the thoughtful answer you deserve, I need to ruminate on that for a day or two.” When next asked to describe yourself, pause for a moment, then declare, “I am an attentive, measured sort of person with a ruminative cast to my mind.” (Just don’t tell anyone you’re a ruminant. That will totally undermine our goal.)

And after we save ruminate, we’re coming back for you, enable.

*****************************

Every so often, the New Yorker slips a suggestion for an archived article into the Inbox of my e-mail. That how I came across Andrew Solomon’s article, “Anatomy of Melancholy,” that appeared in New Yorker’s January 12, 1998 issue. It’s a pretty harrowing description of the depths down to which depression can pull person, and of the biases that still pertain when it comes to admitting to others or to ourselves that we have a mental illness and, worse, might be so “weak” as to need chemical (or electrical) interventions. As I moved through the essay, I can upon this proffered bit of wisdom:

Accuracy of perception is not an evolutionary priority. Too optimistic a world view results in foolish risk-taking, but moderate optimism gives you a strong selective advantage. “Normal human thought and perception,“ Shelley Taylor writes in her 1989 book, Positive Illusions, “is marked not by accuracy but by positive self-enhancing illusions about the self, the world, and the future. Moreover…these illusions are not merely characteristic of human thought; they appear actually to be adaptive.” As she notes, “The mildly depressed appear to have more accurate views of themselves, the world, and the future than normal people. [They] clearly lack the illusions that in normal people promote mental health and buffer them against setbacks.”

hulki-okan-tabak-SKadYI4E7OM-unsplash-scaled

So — why are those of us with depression and accurate perceptions the ones who are mentally ill, while the “normies” with their illusions are the ones who are considered sane? Why are we the ones who are seen as less evolved? Am I the only one who thinks this assessment is a little bit off?

************************************

In a recent car commercial, actor and apparent guru Matthew McConaughey ruminates (see how easy it is to just slip the word right into a sentence?) out loud about the process of identity formation. He muses

“Knowin’ who we are is hard — it’s hard. Eliminatin’ who you are are not, first, and you’re gonna find yourself where ya need to be.”

OK: first, shouldn’t the logic of the first sentence — the search for identity — lead to a statement about finding out who one is rather than where one is? I guess that’s what happens when one infuses manufactured sagacity into an advert for a vehicle. And never mind the lack of parallel structure in the second sentence.

But what I keep thinking is, “What if we, as is recommended by Mr. McConaughey, eliminate all the people we are not, only to realize there’s no one left?” That’s kind of who-where I keep finding myself.

*********************************

An ethical dilemma: At the recommendation of a friend, I picked up Change Your Brain, Change Your Life, by Daniel G. Amen. M.D. I haven’t read very far into it, but so far there are some sensible observations about the practicality of having one’s brain scanned for damage so one knows whether medical or psychotherapeutic remedies are most likely to be beneficial. However, on page twenty-nine, our friend the doctor discusses thing that hurt the brain and things that help the brain. Under malign influences, Dr. Amen notes that “even spending time with unhealthy people [is] bad for the brain.” OK: I can see how that can work.

In the next paragraph, Dr. Amen lists things that can boost the brain. This list includes the point that “In many ways, the best thing you can do for your brain is to spend time with healthy people. As we will see, they are contagious. I often say the fastest way to get healthy is to find the healthiest person you can stand and then spend as much time around him or her as possible.” That also makes sense.

BUT — and you may already see the problem here — let’s say I’m a healthy person. I know an unhealthy person, someone with, say, depression, someone who would immensely benefit from spending time with me. Yet if I do spend time with that person, I’ll be engaged in an activity that will be detrimental to my own grey matter. On the other hand, if I choose to protect myself by shunning the depressed person, I’m selfishly depriving her or him of my beneficial “contagion” and preventing that person from attaining the flourishing cerebrum she or he deserves. (Unless, of course, that person has been ruminating. In that case, she or he deserves all the melancholy that infests her or his soul. [That’s an example how NOT to use the word ruminating.]) I’m either allowing harm to come to myself or withholding aid from another, which makes me a pretty lousy human being, and knowing that I’m a pretty lousy human will depress me.

Now let’s imagine that I am the unhealthy person, and I know a tremendously healthy person, in whose salubrious presence I never fail to rally. I have a lot of time on my hands. I easily could spend days with this person and notably sharpen my dulled mental functions and ameliorate my debilitating mood. However, by latching on to this bloom-imparting individual, I will be causing harm to that person’s well-being and will likely disrupt her or his equilibrium. That would make me an insensitive parasite, sucking the life out of someone for my own ends, and being such a draining leech would make me feel horrible and depressed.

So what to do? I hate lose-lose, damned-if-you-do-or-don’t, caught-between- Scylla-and-a-hard-place options.

**********************************

And then Will Wheaton put this up on his Blog:

報復性熬夜

Revenge Bedtime Procrastination, which has a much more beautiful name in Chinese (the literal translation for revenge bedtime procrastination means “suffering through the night vengefully.”), is a phenomena unique to people who feel out of control in their daily lives, so we refuse to go to sleep early, to exert some control over our lives, and to enjoy some quiet time alone, when the rest of our people are sleeping.

I should confess, straight up, that I am, by nature, a night owl. It runs in the family. But I love both this concept and its name. Between the depression and the M.E. and the State of the Union, I’m having an increasingly hard time getting any sleep. I just wish being AWAKE YES I’M AWAKE YES I DO KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS OH ISN’T THAT A LOVELY SUNRISE? would wreak some actual vengeance on the conditions and people who are responsible for my near-insomnia.

*****************************

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-face-branches-woman-3317298/

I hope my ruminations provide some conceptual cud for your synapses, dear reader, to masticate at the pace of your choosing. And don’t forget: enable is still waiting for us to effect an heroic rescue, one worthy of our idiom.

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thewriterwithnoplan · 5 years

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Vibranium (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N is an outcast. Most would assume it’s because she’s unable to feel pain but even among SHEILD she is shunned. They call her Vibranium because of her will of steel and weapon of choice. Mostly she’s known for her secrets, the ones she’s taken from others and the ones she keeps to herself. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Eventual) Word Count: 1050 Warnings: None.

Y/N wasn't SHEILD's best agent but nor was she dull or stupid or weak. In fact Y/N was the smartest, strongest person in her division, not that anyone knew that. To everyone at SHEILD and beyond the agency, Y/N L/N was a young reserved woman who's most notable feature was her CIP. Congenital Insensitivity to Pain, was what had attracted SHEILD's attention. An agent who couldn't feel pain was absolutely perfect.

Agent L/N wasn't among the elite of SHEILD, she took down a drug ring here, infiltrated an organisation there. She'd found that SHEILD assigned most of the missions, where torture was a near guarantee, to her. It made sense, sending the only agent incapable of feeling to be interrogated. The young woman had also found that the agency had no use for her beyond pin cushion. Not that she cared much, she had no family, no home anyway.

And so Y/N had worked years under the agency. Throwing caution to the wind and taking any mission they gave her. She became mildly infamous for it, many of the agents calling her Vibranium. Either from her cool, unfaltering attitude or the sword that always peaked over her shoulder. Many had asked her where she'd gotten it and always she told the truth; It was with her when SHEILD found her in the middle of nowhere without a single memory save her name.

There had been some speculation, a couple rumours and much suspicion surrounding the girl. It had all eventually passed when the agents found something new to gossip about. And at SHEILD there was always something new to gossip about. First it had been a man flying around in a metal suit, then a man who turned green when angered, a god had fallen from the sky and a genetically engineered soldier had melted from an ice-cap.

While Y/N didn't have many friendly contacts she had ways of finding information. People talked, too much for some peoples liking. Y/N found it useful more times than once when an agent went just that little bit into detail. A detail in SHEILD could buy you all sorts of things. Y/N had always known it was something more than that though, more than a bargaining chip. There had always been a nagging in the back of head that told her one thing; listen. So for years she had, listened and learned from all those gossiping agents.

Perhaps it was unrelated but among those rumours and the talk about Vibranium. They often mentioned the thing that made her even more of an oddity, an outcast. Black outs, the agents called them, a single day each month when the stony unfeeling one of a kind agent went awol. She simply disappeared and then reappeared the next day as if nothing happened, never speaking of it. Sure others took time off for their family but they told each other of their leave. Vibranium just vanished.

So it was not an odd sight, to see Y/N sitting alone in her privet office, clicking away at her computer. Not an odd sight at all, before the director of SHEILD walked in tailed by his most trusted associates. Maria Hill broke from the group, closing and guarding the door while Phil Coulson began shutting the blinds. Ever the steely agent Y/N looked up in waiting, although her fingers still clacked across the keyboard.

"Vibranium," Fury greeted in that commanding tone of his. "We have a mission for you. There's a pair of agents who've strayed from the reservation. Two of our most trained agents might I add. The most of our agents refuse to take up arms against them, others too scared to do so but we find that you're never one to back away from a fight."

With a slight shake of her head at the blatant flattery in the Directors proposition, Y/N yanked the manilla folder from Coulson's hands. She pressed her thumb to small pad and proceeded to flick through the unnervingly thick folder. Some agents. Either important enough to warrant special praise or important for the not so good reason. It didn't matter as Y/N pulled out a photo. Taken only an hour earlier if the date stamp where accurate. Of a couple kissing on an escalator.

With a single swift nod, Y/N tucked the folder into a locked draw and bade the director farewell, the agents nodding in acknowledgement. She'd had a handful of cases like this too, where missions either spooked off agents or they were outmatched. She'd never had a mission so important it had to be hand delivered by the director himself. Coulson maybe, Maria if she had a really hard mission but never-

She'd never received a folder of Natalia Romanov and Steven Rogers.

* * *

Night was falling and Y/N had been searching every camera within the state for two days. She'd found them a few times but fleetingly enough that they were gone by the time she got there. But she now had a name; Sam Wilson. A man who served under the code name 'The Falcon'. Stupid as it may have sounded and ridiculous as the choice in allies was, Y/N was now speeding to Wilson's house.

Dressed in all black, a bandanna over her mouth, Vibranium sword clutched in her fist Y/N stalked to the door. She didn't bother knocking, finding kicking the door in to be just as effective. Natasha, aka Black Widow, was upon her the moment she stepped inside. A gun trained on Y/N.

The men entered next, each sporting casual clothes but holding weapons none the less. The room was dead silent for a moment as they stared each other down, the 'heroes' demanding that she lay down her sword. Steve hefted his shield in one hand, a small gun in the other. He used the shield to creep closer, closer, closer.

"Who are you?" Captain America demanded. Y/N's only answer was to strike out, lunging toward him. The heroes allowed themselves to admire how fluidly she moved with the weapon, as if it was an extension of her. Cap and his shield were the same though, and he was blocking the blow before she got close.

Metal on metal screeched as the Vibranium sheild met her equally strong sword.

#avengers #black widow #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #reader insert #reader #sheild #captain america #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #sam wilson #falcon #agent #nick fury #phil coulson #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #winter solider x reader

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hellolittleogre · 5 years

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Six Sentence Sunday, deleted scene 1

This was originally going to be the first chapter of With a Smile and a Song. First chapter was going to be Sam’s pov and second chapter Billy’s, but the whole thing became way too dark for the premise and also veered into territories that I as I white person and not american felt uncomfortable writing about and had not researched enough, plus again, it felt insensitive for the rather frivolous subject. And I had wanted to have Sam in it but in the end that layout turned into two characters of colour talking about a white person so I ditched the idea. I might try to re-purpose it later for a Sam & Goodnight (or Sam/Goodnight) story.

The scrubland is dry for miles and miles and the sun is beating on Sam’s shoulders when he approaches the well and comes up on a brawl.

Actually a brawl is a gross misrepresentation, what he can see is a company of ten men beating a single man on the ground. There is no reason for him to interrupt them, his errand is with another man, but maybe it’s the pitiful wail or the fleeting glimpse of a white hand, large-knuckled and bony wrists, curling around a head, in between rough boots, and in any case Sam has never been able to stick to his own business, so he halts his horse and intercedes.

“He done something?” he asks, nodding towards the prone person on the ground and the men turned around, like children with their game spoiled. He spotted a few blue caps between them, a tarnished insignia here and there, so they are army men then. The world had not been kind to old soldiers, not that it ever had been, Sam had forged himself a new life, becoming a ranger and duty sworn warrant officer, sliding like a smooth layer on top of the soldier. And now he is here, six shooters comfortably on his hips,the star on his chest, staring down a crowd of men with calm authority. The man on the ground has a grey coat, so Sam supposes the root of the argument does not need explaining.

“You know who this is?” one of them asks, a burly white man with a shock of blonde hair, bleached almost white by the sun.

Sam looks over at the man on the ground, he looks mostly like a bundle, the coat ingrained with dirt, the only thing visible a scrawny neck and that feeble hand trying to ward off the attack. He’s bleeding from his nose, streaming red across his face, dirt and blood stuck in his beard.

“Can’t say that I do,no.”

“This is the goddamn Angel of Death, Goodnight Robicheaux.”

Sam looked down on the ground again, and shrugged. “War’s over,” he pointed out mildly.

Still, whatever sympathy Sam had felt for the man dwindled away fast. He might be on the ground now, but how many times had the position been reversed? This man fed and clothed and served on the backs of others? It might do him good to be on the ground for a while. But all the same, if the kicking continued he would die, sure as anything. If he even pulled through now.

“War’s never over,” the man, Robicheaux says, in a voice that sounds like its coming from the bottom of a well. “...Of names once fam'd, now dubious or forgot, And buried ‘midst the wreck of things which were; There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead.”

His voice die away in a wet hitching laugh, blood bubbling from his nose, the men look from him and up to Sam again, the blond man raising his eyebrows and Sam hitches his chin at him, away towards the horses.

“I guess we’d better get going boys,” he says, and still looking Sam dead in the eyes he aims a vicious kick, hitting Robichaux in the ribs. Sam tried not to wince at the sound, watching them mount their horses and disappear, in no particular hurry. After they have gone, there is a distinct lack of riderless horse and Sam sighs, deep and heartfelt. He supposes he might as well camp here for the night.

Dismounting he looks down at Robicheaux, he’s a scrawny white man with a narrow nose, his forehead and cheeks pink and mottled from the desert sun, with an unkept beard and dust ingrained into his greasy hair. He’s not really sure what he expected, the tales told of a man who’d just as soon smile at you as shoot you in the face, silver-tongued like the snake in the garden of Eden. Robicheaux’s mouth is bleeding and there are bruises already rising on his cheek and temple. It’s likely that his ribs are broken.

“You alive down there?” he asks and Robicheaux opens his eyes, startlingly blue and stared up at Sam.

“”In grim array the grisly spectres rise, Grin horrible, and obstinately sullen, Pass and repass, hush’d as foot of night. Again the screech-owl shrieks……””

The eyes focused on Sam slowly and the man smiles at him, a horrible rictus grin made worse by the gaping black hole of a missing tooth, his eyes shining maniacally. “Every night we rise up, and up, we the colorless dead from our graves, the restless sleeper from his pallet. Once more unto the breach, once more…il faut laisser les morts ensevelir les morts…” he says, eyes staring and unseeing. His hand on the ground have two fingers broken, already swelling.

Sam recoiled a little, that was unsettlingly morbid, coming from that grinning skull of a face, before setting up camp and hauling water, refilling his canteens and water his horse. It’s a fine animal, a lovely chestnut brown mare with a white star on his forehead named Comet, not that Sam ever used it, never having the need to call the horse anything. “Hey you” seemed to do just as well. The horse was usually an unperturbed sort of animal but now she was dancing and tossing her head, refusing to stand still and tugging against her picket while Sam set up camp.

He had a fire going and tin of beans nestled in the coals when Robicheaux sat upright, and Sam sighed, of course food would make the man move, but instead of coming closer to the fire Robicheaux crawled over to Comet, half lying by her massive hoofs.

“Hey! Get away from her,” Sam called suspicious, granted he didn’t look like he was in any shape to steal Sam’s horse but Robicheaux is undeterred slowly running a clumsy and shaking hand along her left front leg.

“Hush now, cher,” Sam hears him murmur, a string of soothing nonsense, “we’ll get it sure ‘nuff, so we will, yes, yes..”

“Hey, Robicheaux,” Sam calls again and ambles over, if this crazy man lames Sam’s horse in the middle of ass-end nowhere Sam is going to have to shoot him, and that’s just that.

Robicheaux is rubbing his eyes with a dirty hand when Sam reaches them, his eyes sliding away along the ground but he wordlessly holds out half a Foxtail grass awn to Sam, the sharp barbs could twist and twist into the skin of an animal, causing no end of misery.Its obviously dug out from the sensitive area just above the hoof, Sam himself must have missed it.

“Huh, how on earth did you know that was there?” And Robicheaux looks up, gives him a smile which is nothing more than a nervous grimace.

“Horse told me so,” he says and Sam decides, what the heck, the man can have some beans after all.

Comed adore Robicheaux after that and Sam thought it was typical that a man who kept people as property would be soft-hearted about animals.

They rise at first light and Sam points towards the nearest settlement, not really willing to let Robicheaux ride double with him but also not quite willing to leave him in the dust just yet. He could hear him waking up in the night, murmuring disjointed strings of words. The moon was full and shining on them, sometimes so bright it seemed nearly to be day. His mama always said that sleeping in the moonlight would make you crazy, not that he’s sure there would be a noticeable difference in Robicheaux.

They had been making their way, Sam ahead on Comet, letting the horse walk slow and Robicheaux picking his way behind them, the sky turning a warm pink and the full moon just a faint silver disc low on the horizon when Sam spotted something ahead of them on the trail.

It was a horse, large and grey, almost glowing in the early morning light, with liquid dark eyes and flared nostrils, the white colored mane falling silkily over the broad forehead. It whickered lowly and Sam could feel Comet answer but when he came closer it backed away, tossing its head.

The grass rustled faintly as Robicheaux came up alongside him and walked past with one hand stretched out. The horse backed away a couple of paces before coming closer, slowly nuzzling the outstretched hand, slowly letting Robicheaux stroke its neck and flanks. Sam wasn’t sure if he really believed his eyes when it slowly lowered its head and bent the front legs at Robicheaux’s feet. The man gripped the mane and swung one leg over and the animal got to its feet, docile and tame as a cow. Sam had never believed in magic, or in his mother’s stories about Uncle Jack who trapped the devil himself in his purse, but he had to admit this was the strangest thing he’d ever witnessed with his own two eyes.

“You know horse theft is a hanging offence?”

“Good thing I didn’t steal her then,” Robicheaux answered. “No markings or brands on her. Too big to be a wild mustang and no iron shoes on her hooves.”

“Yes, but..” Sam says, in his, not inconsiderable, experience, horses don’t just turn up because you need them (he’s even sure he heard a fella in a play say something to that effect once).

“We’ll bring her back to - and is she has an owner they’d be right pleased to see her,” Robicheaux says, seemingly untroubled about the prospect of being shot for a horse thief. It is just the first in a long string of odd animal related events as they start travelling together.

#the magnificent seven #sunday six #Delete scenes #with a smile and a song #Sam Chisolm #sam & goodnight #Goodnight is quoting #The Grave #by Robert Blair #which is another tenuously feasible literary reference

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karl-jenkins · 5 years

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HPCC London Cast 4 First Impressions

I saw London cast 4 for the first time on Sunday (26th May 2019) and wanted to put down some thoughts I had while watching. These are just my interpretations and what I took from their performance. Overall, I had such a great time watching them, I have very high hopes for this cast and I can’t wait to see them again and see what else I learn about their interpretations of their characters. While five of the main seven were the same, most of the ensemble had changed which gave the show an entire new feel and along with the changes made, it felt like watching the show for the first time all over again. I only really noted things that had changed and about the new cast members so there’s not much about the remaining cast members even though there were some little tweaks.

Dominic Short as Albus Potter

Dominic’s Albus came across very anxious and insecure, very unsure of himself. He was absolutely exasperated with James. When he got onto the train he very much relied on Rose to lead the way, he had no idea how to approach this new situation and was perfectly happy to follow her lead. The moment that he decided to stay in Scorpius’ carriage was the first time that he was sure of himself, confident in his decision.

He is expressive and excitable when he’s around Scorpius. He uses a lot of hand gestures. He thrives when he’s got a plan. He gets so excited! On the train, he has such a thirst to prove himself and it gave me big Slytherin vibes. After the argument in the library, when detailing his lake task idea, after he said “sparkly surprise” he acted out exploding fireworks. In Godric’s Hollow, you see the pieces fall into place as he watches Lily leave and he is so excited when Scorpius finally understands him. In the Slytherin dormitory, he is so interested to hear everything that happened with Rose. It was just a really nice friendship, that felt very much like two real teenage boys.

He is mostly just anxious and uncomfortable around Harry, not really knowing how to speak to him. It is the scene before the third year Hogwarts when his anger first comes out. When he says he knows he’ll hate Hogsmeade because it will be full of Hogwarts students, he delivers this angrily, glaring at the permission form and crumpling it in his fist as if it’s one of the students he hates so much. The anger reappears in the blanket scene. It starts off with him sat uncomfortably, leaning away from Harry. Not outright aggressive yet but wanting to be pretty much anywhere else. Even before he holds the blanket, he is done with the conversation. During the argument, once his anger comes out, he picks up the blanket and Jamie reaches out wanting to take it back, clearly afraid that he’s going to do something to it in anger.

His friendship with Scorpius is really lovely and has the potential to become more. The hugs that he initiates are very tight squeezes, Albus really just needs his friend in those moments. In their final staircase scene, when Scorpius hugs him, the “What’s this?” is really pleasantly surprised. When Scorpius said about the new version of them he had in his head, they stand, eyes locked and go to hug again but it becomes awkward so Albus blurts out about asking Rose and the moment passes.

Staircase ballet was also extremely heartbreaking. Dom does this thing when Albus is preparing to respond – he sort of fidgets on the spot as if he wants to step forward and opens his mouth as if to say something – and he did a version of this on the stairs too. When they met at the top of the staircase, he was so anxious and unsure about what to do, he just completely froze. When they were on the separate staircases facing each other at the end, Albus was staring into Scorpius’ eyes so sadly. As the stairs stared to roll off, he stepped down onto the next stair and looked like he wanted to say something. There was such desperation and sadness in him in that moment.

He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t quite know what to do with. He’s so insecure and used to teasing that when he is complimented, he doesn’t know how to react. He ends up panicking and making jokes as his defence mechanism. Examples of this were:

- When Scorpius says he’d choose him as a companion for the return of eternal darkness, Albus just does not know how to react to that properly. He panics and blurts out the “no offence” line because he can’t bring himself to think about it more deeply and believe it to be true.

- When Harry tells him he’s becoming quite some wizard, it’s kind of a huge moment. This is a genuine compliment from his dad, something he’s wanted for a long time and he just doesn’t know how to react now it’s finally happened so turns to joking about pigeon racing.

There was a lot of other things I took from his graveyard scene. When Harry says his childhood was a constant struggle and Albus replies “so was mine”, it’s a joke. The first time he is jokey around Harry. Humour had been so natural with Scorpius but never with Harry until that moment. He’s still not as open or as comfortable as he is with his mum or Scorpius but he’s much more receptive. He’s actually really happy at the possibility that Harry thinks that he’s like him, that maybe he does live up to his expectations after all.

The way he talks about his Slytherin side is a nice moment, he’s finally opening up to Harry about something, letting himself be vulnerable around him. You can tell by the way he said it that ever since he was sorted into Slytherin, he has been fixated on the idea that the Sorting Hat must have seen something ‘bad’ in him. He’s spent all this time examining himself, putting himself down, looking for the things about him that’s bad enough to warrant him being in Slytherin and convinced that Harry is disappointed that he is.

The embrace at the end was very sweet, for me it embodied the stage direction of the two of them ‘melting together’.

I was a big fan of Joe’s emotionally closed off Albus, he reminded me of a younger me. Dom’s Albus reminded me of me now. I am loving seeing these interpretations of Albus that are teaching me about myself as I learn about them. I really enjoyed getting to meet Dom’s Albus and took so much from his performance even after seeing it only once. I’m so excited to see him again and see what else he can teach me over the coming year.

Jonathan Case as Scorpius Malfoy

He changed up the Slytherin dormitory scene. He would previously lie at the end of Albus’ bed and pop up shouting his name. This time he crouched right near Albus’ head the whole time and shouted there. I really liked that change. He was very excitable about being back with Albus, he even did a little dance to celebrate being Scorpius the Dreadless.

Michelle Gayle as Hermione Granger

I really liked her with Tom – Ron and Hermione didn’t even need to speak a lot of the time, they communicated through expressions and gestures. The marriage renewal scene was lovely. She went all giggly and girlish while usually she was very calm and collected.

Her polyjuiced Delphi was spot on – she mimicked Madeleine’s body language and gestures perfectly. While she was watching Albus and Scorpius transform, she had the biggest excited grin on her face. Inside Hermione’s office, she sat down at the desk, every bit Madeleine’s sweet, goofy Delphi pretending to be the minister. Even her walk changed – she swaggered around and looked like Delphi was having the time of her life.

I really enjoyed her Act 2 AU Hermione – the DADA teacher. It was almost like she was one of the kids, bullying Albus along with them. Whenever she joked at his expense, the rest of the class were laughing and exchanging gleeful looks. It was just another way to make Albus feel truly alone in this world. He can’t speak to Harry, he’s being kept away from Scorpius and his Uncle and Aunt that he might otherwise have gone to are unrecognisable.

She stays angry for most of the class, her voice doesn’t crack. It’s only when she jinxes them all out of their seats that she suddenly looks so much younger, vulnerable and sad. She walks off just shaking her head. During the staircase scene, when Ron says he doesn’t mean ‘mine, as in…’ she snaps “I know” quite harshly, cutting him off to stop him from hurting her any further.

In the dark AU, Granger is very slow to trust. It takes a long time for her to lower her wand from Scorpius. It was her that indicated to Ron that his wand was the wrong way, rather than Scorpius. When she finds out she’s Minister for Magic in another world she is surprised but when Ron indignantly says, “She’s Minister for Magic?!” she shrugs as if to say “yes, of course I am”.

One of the things I really enjoyed about her Hermione was that she is absolutely in her element when she’s forming a plan. This is applies to the time turning plan in the dark AU and the plan to use St. Jerome’s in Godric’s Hollow. When she’s planning, she gets a spring in her step and smiles a lot more, you can tell that she loves having a strategy, something to work on and get her teeth into.

Rayxia Ojo as Rose Granger-Weasley

Rayxia’s Rose is a boss. 11 years old and already so sure of who she is, a natural leader. She has a bossy, confident walk and is fondly exasperated by Ron, quite similarly to how Hermione reacts to him. There was slight aggression in her tone when she said “That’s putting it mildly. Your mum and dad are Death Eaters”, I definitely got the impression that she’s heard a lot about Draco Malfoy from her family. Rose is so done when Albus doesn’t know the rumour about Scorpius being the child of Voldemort, has he been living under a rock? She blurted out the Voldemort rumour then had a moment of realisation that that was probably insensitive and span round to try to explain herself. During the next Hogwarts Express scene, she is so excited about the time turner. Proper nerdish excitement, you can definitely tell she’s Hermione’s daughter. She actually seemed quite hurt when Scorpius asked her what did she smell of. After she leaves and goes to sit with James, you see they have a much more natural relationship. They hit each other playfully and tease each other and it’s nice to see. When they are eavesdropping on the staircase when Albus and Scorpius are in McGonagall’s office, she looked so excited to hear the gossip, she thinks the whole thing is quite funny. Until she hears her name, realises they’re talking about a timeline in which she didn’t exist. After that she seems very conflicted and confused. It must be such a shocking thing to hear. I was glad that James and Karl were there to be supportive! James put his hand on her shoulder and Karl turned to put his on her knee. Her Scorpion King line was flirty but then she immediately broke into laughter because she couldn’t even pretend to keep up that act.

Emma-May Uden as Polly Chapman

I loved her. She was the ultimate mean girl; her resting bitch face was on point. Her delivery was so sassy. I especially loved her dark AU scene. She was girlish and flirty while talking about torture and killing. In general, she gave me proper Queen Bee vibes; Polly, Yann, Karl and Craig really did seem like a real group of friends with Polly as their natural leader, but she also spent a lot of time pursuing Yann. Just before the Scorbus staircase scene, Yann and Polly cross the stage and Emma-May and Luke did this hand in hand, Yann had clearly stopped playing hard to get at this point. Also, while I sort of missed the blonde bob, her new wig is gorgeous. Emma-May is every bit the notorious beauty.

Ronnie Lee as Craig Bowker Jr

In the Act 3 dormitory scene, his Craig was confident and in charge. He knew the rules and he was going to enforce them. This boy knows what he’s about. When Professor McGonagall says “Craig, we’ve work to do” he tightened his dressing gown belt with such resolve, ready for action. His death was quite dramatic, he flinched with the force of the spell hitting him which made me flinch too! Then again, being in the restricted view seats, I am quite used to not being able to see his death.

Kathryn Meisle

She did a lot with Petunia that I absolutely loved. In the lighthouse dream, when Hagrid mentioned Hogwarts, she moaned. As the scene continued, she was poised to cover Dudley’s ears. She was so conflicted about Dudley hearing about Hogwarts, it clearly brought back a lot of memories for her. Her Petunia was very emotional whenever she remembered Lily, something I really appreciated when I saw Kate Russell-Smith as Petunia, but it felt like Kathryn took it even further. During the under the stairs dream sequence, when she said that Lily didn’t even have time to scream, her voice cracked. During the Godric’s Hollow graveyard scene, she first looked at the grave when Harry asked why there were so many flowers. She let out a little shocked “oh” and sounded so heartbroken to be seeing her sister’s grave, covered in flowers from so many people. At the end of the day, Lily was her sister and I felt she showed so much sadness and regret and that is something that I love to see in a Petunia.

I also really enjoyed her Umbridge – whenever I reread Order of the Phoenix I end up doing impressions of her saying “hem hem” to draw attention and she did that perfectly! She definitely looked the part of Umbridge. She was brilliant at that false sweetness while really, she is dripping with threat and danger at every moment. When she said Scorpius had been checked for hexes and curses, she looked Scorpius up and down very deliberately. It was very tense, like you were on edge waiting to see what she was going to do. After the dementors take Ron and Hermione and Umbridge finds Snape and Scorpius in the grounds her “hem hem” was so sudden that she actually made me jump.

I reach Scorpius levels of geekiness when Bathilda appears, so I was very excited to see Kathryn do this, even though it’s just one tiny moment. Kathryn as Bathilda was unreasonably cute. She did a sort of whoop of excitement and trotted off stage and it was extremely sweet.

Blythe Duff

Really liked her Trolley Witch, she did a cute little waddle through the train. On top of the train, I loved the way she made use of the spikes. She did a lot of hand gestures and advanced closer to Scorpius and Albus than I’ve seen any Trolley Witch do before. After they jumped from the train, her screams of anger were so extra. She screamed “No! Nooo! Noooooo!” and kept one hand free and grabbing the air the entire time the train was rolling off stage.

I’ve been trying really hard to work out how to explain how I felt about Blythe’s McGonagall. To me, she just encapsulated the spirit of McGonagall. She was sensitive and kind but stern and full of authority. It really did feel like Professor McGonagall had stepped off the pages of the books and straight onto the stage. Her sadness when Harry threw it back in her face about not having children made me want to fight Harry. In the library scene, she is very pleased to have found that little loophole about not being able to see them. This way she doesn’t have to separate two friends, but Harry also can’t blame her, such a result. One cute little moment was that when Ron enters from the kitchens with his napkin, he doesn’t pull it off. As the scene ends, McGonagall is the one to rip it off in exasperation.

Lucy Mangan as Moaning Myrtle

April had left big shoes to fill and Lucy was completely different. She only had to say her first line and I was saying “I love her!” Her Myrtle was very flirty and excited to have boys in her bathroom. She gets quite aggressive when Scorpius called her Moaning Myrtle, she is clearly very fed up of that nickname. She was dramatic to a level that I can only aspire to. Her look at Albus on the “and boys” was very pointed. When she was talking about the weeping after Cedric was taken, she did two separate wails while the taps ran. Then Albus tried to continue speaking and she held out her hand to stop him before doing a third wail.

The way she placed her leg in front of Scorpius was very funny, she got right up in his face. When she went back down into the pipe she giggled and did an excited little wiggle. She was really enjoying getting so many visitors that day. She said “Hello Harry” in a flirtatious, husky voice. Each time she tries to flirt with Harry and fails, she would sigh in annoyance.

From the restricted view seat that I was in, I couldn’t really see her during Lily’s appearances so will have to keep an eye out for those bits next time I see the show.

Madeleine Walker as Delphi

Madeleine’s Delphi is sweet and awkward. She popped round the stairs saying “helloooo!” and she wins you over straight away. She is so enthusiastic and excitable about everything. When she leaves Albus to go back to Amos, she curtseys to Albus. During the blanket argument when Albus says “Shall I bow now, or will a curtsey do?” I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d inspired that.

She’s super sweet and endearing and makes awkward noises that reminded me of Jon’s Scorpius. I’ve said before that if I were to play Delphi, I would try to take on some of the characteristics of Scorpius to win Albus’ trust. I felt like this might have been something that Madeleine was trying to portray too as many of her little gestures and excited or awkward noises really did remind me of Scorpius. I need to remember to ask her at stage door if I see her again whether this was what she was going for – just someone that Albus would trust in general or whether she was mimicking Scorpius specifically. I will also be interested if she changes it up when there’s a cover Scorpius on.

During the expelliarmus scene, she is so goofy and enthusiastic. She only has eyes for Albus, she doesn’t even look at Scorpius, even when she throws his robes at him. Her reaction being told she couldn’t come it incredulous, the way she says “What?” is quite sad. She insists “he’s MY cousin” pleading not to be left out.

When she finds Scorpius on the staircase she is so excited by Hogwarts, she has such an enthusiasm about everything which is infectious.

When she arrives in the owlery, she still seems so sweet, she’s so understanding about destroying the time turner. When Scorpius tries to interrupt her monologue about Euphemia’s augurey, she thrusts out a hand to shut him up and let her continue, once more her eyes on Albus alone. Scorpius is nothing to her but a tool to manipulate Albus. When Scorpius continues to question her motives, she turns towards Albus and acts like Scorpius is mad, indicating to him as if to say, “what’s with him?”

On the Quidditch Pitch, she’s quite physical, but only really with Scorpius. He’s expendable but she needs Albus. She’s great at the manic laughter, she sounds like a fanatic. She got right up close to Scorpius and even kissed him which honestly was such an intense moment, you kind of felt violated along with him. She was really enjoying herself as she ran at Scorpius, liking to watch him so scared of her and how worried that makes Albus; it makes him all the more likely to do her bidding.

In St. Jerome’s she sounds like she doesn’t want to admit that Voldemort is going to lose the Battle of Hogwarts, she hesitates before finishing the sentence. Is this through slight fear of his reaction or because it pains her to admit her father doesn’t always win? She has great facial expressions throughout the battle – we were only 8 rows back but could clearly see the whites of her eyes and she looked quite unhinged. They’ve added an echoey effect for her voice and she now moves around the stage more. This means that she has to be hooked back up before she flies back up which does draw more attention to her wires, though this might become smoother as they get more used to it.

When Harry can’t kill her, she laughs, finding it funny that he can’t even do that. But she is genuinely desperate when she begs him to take her memory. She would genuinely rather lose her mind that have to live without her father. As she is levitated upwards for Voldemort’s arrival she keeps mouthing “father” and looks as if she is fighting to free herself. She is extremely compelling, and I really enjoyed watching her. I can’t wait to see what else she does with Delphi over the coming year.

I also noted a few of the changes and new dynamics that a new cast has brought. One change is wand dance, though it hasn’t changed as much as I expected. The choreography started the same but sort of broke off and there was more focus on crowding around or teasing Albus. At the end, they all step forward to the front of the stage and cast their spells simultaneously. I really liked the changes and felt that they really highlighted Albus’ feelings of inadequacy and isolation from his peers but kept a lot of the fun choreography. Dom’s robes were flying all over the place.

St Oswald’s was definitely the biggest change. It will for sure take me another few watches to work out exactly what was going on! Didn’t quite know where to look because everything about it had changed. I think it may have changed to be the same as Broadway, but I don’t know for sure as I’ve never seen that production. It involves a biscuit palace, a teacup on fire and Karl on work experience.

Other little changes included: Lily’s line changing to comment on the Granger-Weasley’s always being late, switches between the Yann and Karl tracks (which I think may be to match Broadway?), after the green smoke explodes from the potion, the class all lean forwards and cover their heads with their robes instead of leaning backwards in slow motion, during the under stairs dream sequence, all three of the Voldemort hands reappear at once at the end and young Harry has new trousers which look like he’s wet himself. This seemed slightly unnecessary to me, as did the new ‘wet-look’ wigs for the lake which just made it look like Scorpius’ wig in particular had gone a bit wrong.

One of my favourite scenes to watch is always the first task scene because it’s a chance to watch the entire ensemble interacting with each other and it’s always full of fun little touches and dynamics. This is a scene that can differ a lot each time, so it’s definitely a fun scene for the regulars. In cast 3, it was the Slytherin boy swing track that would fight his way through the crowd to reach Craig Bowker Sr but this year, they’ve switched. So, it was Ronnie crawling his way through the crowd. He burst out triumphantly between the Hufflepuffs first and they shoved him back into the crowd and he finally found his way over to the Slytherin boy. They fist bumped and then through the whole scene were basically all over each other which was funny to watch. Lola in the Hufflepuff girl swing track started tearing up and fanning her face when Cedric was announced, and I loved that because honestly, same. I’m a big Cedric fan. It’s now the Ravenclaw girl in Myrtle’s track that swoons, rather than a teacher. All in all, this scene was very fun already but has potential to be even more fun as this cast get more used to it and find new little things to try out.

I left the show with a huge smile on my face and very much looking forward to the year ahead. I am sorry that this isn’t formulated in the most logical way, I did want to go through in chronological order but when I was putting it together, it made more sense to me to do it by character and group scenes that gave me the same thoughts and feelings relating to each actor’s interpretations. Sorry if it doesn’t make sense. If anyone wants clarification on any specific points, please do let me know!

And of course, this is all only based on one show, in their very first week. I’m sure there’s a lot more that I haven’t noticed yet and I’m really looking forward to seeing them more, so I can find new things about their interpretations and watch them grow over the next year. This is my first cast change with this show and I’m feeling very optimistic and excited for a new year which is a great feeling. Honestly, I’m just so happy that I still feel as in love with this show as ever and I can’t wait to keep seeing it for as long as it still makes me feel like that!

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rookisaknight · 6 years

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MBTI and the Seeds

Religious bullshit, meet personality bullshit. I took to 16personalities for a direction on this and was actually pretty convinced by the majority of the results (which is whack because 16personalities almost always gets at least one letter off), but I have an unfathomably large amount of information about this test stored in my grey matter so I’ll be hopping off a bit to fill in my own blanks. Also notable is the severe trauma each of the Seeds have been through

This is going under a cut because it's a long post and honestly might be more worthwhile as a reference for myself and how I write the Seeds, but I can’t be the only personality nerd in this fanbase.

Jacob Seed: ISTJ. The Logistician

I wasn’t sold on this one initially given that Jacob seems far more comfortable with out of control situations than most Js generally are, but I find the overall profile fits him better than ISTP. My explanation is that his time in the juvie, the military, and the foster system has forced a maturation of this particular function due to constantly feeling out of control, which makes him more open to adaptation than he would have been otherwise.

Strengths:

Honest and Direct: Notably Jacob is arguably the least manipulative Seed. He “tricks” you in a sense with the conditioning but that is more a strategic concealment than any deception. Unlike the other three, Jacob does not pretend that his actions come from any sense of love or divine calling. He is always straightforward with the deputy, even if that doesn’t restrain his cruelty.

Strong-willed and Dutiful: Basically see all of the Book of Joseph, as well as his “you think I care if I die” comments. I lump very responsible under this.

Calm and Practical: I don’t think I have to explain this part. Jacob never reacts from an explicitly emotional place. The “did you think you were free” is the closest to losing his temper I think we see from him. He has expectations, and failure to meet them will be punished. He doesn’t see a need to get emotional about it, preferring to detach himself

Create and Enforce Order: Well, culling the herd is an unconventional tactic, but...

Weaknesses:

Stubborn: As Joseph said, Jacob has been getting into it since he was a kid. Even with the brother, he’s willing to die for, he explicitly argues with him. And even in the face of his own death, he refuses to rescind his own philosophy, or even demonstrate any regret for the path he’s chosen.

Insensitive and Judgemental: Jacob’s a shithead no I will not elaborate

Always By the Book: an illegal paramilitary cult, yes, but one that holds to Jacob’s exacting standards.

Often Unreasonably Blames Themselves: Loath as I am to woobify Jacob at all, there’s a pathos to him. As Joseph says, he thinks of himself as a “weapon without a purpose. A soldier without a legacy”. As a child, he protected his siblings and as an adult, he views himself as little more than a meatshield. There’s a sense that he objectifies himself, reduces himself down to simply the function of violence and protection, and those high standards mean that he views death as simply another failure.

can bastard be a personality type

Joseph Seed: ISFP- The Observer

The test originally gave me INFP, but I find that unconvincing for two reasons. One, INFP’s are predominantly defined by an open-minded approach to life and to ideas, which doesn’t fit well with a guy so convinced he got religion right that he was willing to kidnap and murder people. Two, while Joseph is definitely contemplative and deals with the symbolic, his “visions” are not flights of fancy but are in some sense practical. He doesn’t really appear to engage in thought experiments, merely interpret sensory (or in this case extrasensory) information that he is presented with.

Strengths:

Charming: The man runs a successful church for a reason, and it can’t just be good cheekbones and dogwhistling

Sensitive to Others: Joseph has a keen insight into other people’s emotional state, which is what makes him so effective at manipulating them. He tends to meet people where they’re at with a certain deftness that would be impressive if he didn’t use it the way he did

Passionate: about the LORD. No, but I’ll give this to the man, he’s certainly got a vision, and sticks to it with intensity.

Curious: I think anyone working in the business of people has to have an inherently curious mind, and while Joseph may believe he has all the answers, his fascination with the Deputy to me indicates that he has an inherent draw to things that disrupt his world. I also think about how he would get in trouble as a child for seeking out forbidden material, such as Spiderman comics. those Satanic webs...

Weaknesses:

Fiercely Independent: He’s developed a supportive community now but Joseph has always marched to the beat of his own awful, awful drum, which has gotten him kicked out of at least one job and lost him at least one set of foster parents. He doesn’t seem to need people as much as he acquires them

Unpredictable: Sometimes with blood, sometimes with forgiveness, it's hard to say how Joseph will respond to disruption on any given day. Where the spirit leads, I suppose.

Easily Stressed: This one I’ll actually argue that his turbulent history and the demands of his job have at least taught him to cover this up, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t cracks in the armor. “yOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!!!!!”

Overly Competitive: He’s a sore loser with a tendency to punish people for failing him (see: Faith and the statue)

Fluctuating Self-Esteem: He’s dealing with a joint worldview where he is at once God’s chosen and a “no one from nowhere with nothing”. How much of that is genuine we may never know, but I don’t think the fluctuation is outside the realm of possibility

John Seed: ESFJ-The Consul

I was a little on the fence about N vs S but ultimately found that John’s a bit more concrete than conceptual.

Strengths:

Strong Practical Skills: I mean, the man orchestrated a hostile takeover of an entire county, he knows how to get things done when he wants

Strong Sense of Duty, Very Loyal: This part is likely underdeveloped given how tempestuous forming relationships was for most of his life, but given how bound he feels to Joseph its clearly in him.

Good at Connecting With Others: He’s a shitstain, but according to Joseph he had business connections everywhere and was basically a walking secret storage bin. John can probably be very charming if you don’t know how he spends his weekends in the bunker.

Sensitive and Warm: again, underdeveloped given his background, but there’s clearly a lot of emotions broiling just below the surface given how volatile he can be and how easily Joseph can access them. Joseph also describes him as a very sensitive kid, for what that’s worth

Weaknesses

Worried About Their Social Status: The boy is a climber

Inflexible: He holds pretty firmly to his headcanons on Hope County (for fuck’s sake John Nick’s sin isn’t Greed, its Sloth) and has a very definite view on how things should be. Not to mention he seems very particular, just based on the state of his home and his clothes. He has rituals and habits, and will not deviate.

Vulnerable to Criticism: If you say anything about his future receding hairline he will cry. He just will. Not to mention I’m citing that look he gives you when you’re apparently costing him paradise by not converting

Often Too Needy: He will either get attention or he will die trying.

Too Selfless: Honestly, selfless isn’t the right word here, but I’ll copy the way 16 personalities describes it because I think it fits really well for John. “ Consuls sometimes try to establish their value with doting attention, something that can quickly overwhelm those who don’t need it, making it ultimately unwelcome. Furthermore, Consuls often neglect their own needs in the process.” John is a deeply selfish person but he does act like someone who tries to get affection by giving everything of himself, often to the point that he makes the other person uncomfortable.

I literally love this dramatic edit it's so good

Faith Seed/Rachel Jessop: ENFP-The Campaigner

I have nothing to add, it just fits. At the most, I think Faith is a little more pragmatic than she lets on (given that whole “if violence is the only language you choose to speak”) but to me, that can easily be an extension of the ENFP’s ability to connect emotionally. It means they know how to cut people off

Strength

Curious: I mean you don’t end up in a cult willingly without a little curiosity. Faith also seems mildly intrigued by the Deputy’s resistance, and while this eventually culminates in frustration with our intractability, I believe there’s a genuine investment in the journey to conversion

Observant: Faith is cued into her public perception, both from the resistance and the cult, and consciously constructs it. She also shares Joseph’s ability to tune into emotions and exploit them.

Energetic and Enthusiastic: How much of her ray of sunshine persona is constructed for the benefit of converting people will probably never be answered, but I don’t believe it can be constructed whole cloth. I think Rachel always was a person with a lot of heart and enthusiasm for her passions, even if it's not as constant as Faith Seed wants you to believe

Excellent Communicators: There’s a reason she’s regarded as the Siren. She can talk people into things even they don’t want to do. Certainly left me shook

Know How To Relax: *insert weed joke here*

Very Popular and Friendly: Again, her Siren persona may not be 100% genuine, but you can’t fake that level of charisma

Weaknesses:

Poor Practical Skills: Listen, Rachel is smart as hell (definitely smart enough to develop a drug and orchestrate mass production thereof), but her planning skills? Not great. Up until Burke gets taken out of the Bliss her plan seemed to be “talk with the Deputy over and over until they change their mind”. She kicks it up a notch after she finally gets annoyed with us but it seems a bit more “making it up as she goes”, and she falls back on strategies that have worked for her before but aren’t really effective for the Deputy. In fairness, I don’t think any of the Seeds are strong in the planning department

Overthink Things, Get Stressed Easily: Unlike with John and Jacob, Faith doesn’t really let us in to see her darker side. She prefers to speak of her flaws in the past tense. Yet clearly anxiety has been an issue in her life, given how deeply her isolation sat with her and her sense of worthlessness. Using drugs as an escape from stress also makes sense for her character, at least from my perspective

Highly Emotional: Faith communicates in emotional terms, manipulates people through emotions, and unlike someone like Jacob Faith loses her temper. She shouts at us, demonstrates her frustration very openly, even screams at us that we couldn’t possibly understand her.

Independent to a Fault: Her personal history gives her some interesting codependent issues with Joseph but based on what we hear of her from Tracey Rachel resented anyone trying to control her, even if they had her best interests at heart, and was perfectly willing to burn bridges over people questioning her choices.

If people are interested I can develop these out more. I may eventually do these for the police force members too but frankly, we’re given less to deal with for them, in particular with Joey and Staci, so who knows.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #jacob seed #john seed #faith seed #rachel jessop #mbti #headcanons

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chaos-of-the-abyss · 6 years

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Manwë and Melkor Headcanons Part 1

Ah, these two have always had a special place in my Tolkien-loving heart. Typically we associate the concept "two halves of a whole" with romantic partners, but I think it's the perfect statement for Manwë and Melkor in this case. I don't ship these two (Manwë x Varda is probably my Silmarillion OTP), but their relationship, in my opinion, is beautifully tragic and I had to get these Manwë & Melkor emotions out.

So here we go.

Note: I apologize that there is quite a lot of Varda here as well (though this will not be a Melkor x Varda post by any means). Even if Melkor's feelings towards her weren't romantic/sexual, I still think her presence had some part in driving the wedge between these two (though that was the last thing she would have wanted imo).

Double Note (or something): I ended up splitting this into two parts because it turned out way longer than I intended. I just took off with these two XD The headcanons went from a few sentences to full-blown paragraphs. Tbh I think I went a little overboard; you might actually get some Manwë/Melkor vibes from this one. I’m currently not sure when the second part will be out. It probably won’t be as long this one, though.

Headcanons

1. Manwë and Melkor came into existence at the very same moment in time, the first two of the Ainur created by Eru. When they were snapped (blinked? activated? idk) into existence, the first thing they were aware of was each other. Then they both realized the presence of Eru, and loved Him as their father.

2. For a while, Manwë and Melkor only spent time with each other and of course, Eru. It wasn’t like they were avoiding any other interaction; they were simply the only two beings around.

3. The way I imagine these two, they didn't have older brother-younger brother. They were simply brothers (or twins, if you will).

4. Manwë was the better singer of the two, but Melkor didn’t mind. He was proud of Manwë's talent. Melkor had more of a passion to learn about and experiment with his own powers, though, while Manwë was content to take it slow.

5. They both enjoyed hearing each other sing and would sometimes sing together, in duets or separately, comparing notes (figuratively speaking), critiquing, and complimenting each other's ability.

6. Manwë and Melkor were prone to witty banter. They liked their playful verbal sparring and no feelings were hurt. At the end of their mock-arguing, they'd laugh together. Melkor was also keen to mock-insult his brother, but he was also very protective of Manwë. From the beginning Melkor felt that Manwë was always more idealistic than he was; he was a bit jaded from the start and wanted to protect what he perceived as naivety in his brother.

7. They rarely got into serious disagreements. If they did it would more often than not be Melkor's fault (either by insensitivity, stubbornness, or pride). During these times they'd separate and laze about by themselves, but it never lasted very long. They'd always apologize (Manwë first, mostly) and reconcile.

8. Melkor showed a few signs of being rebellious towards Eru in the beginning - just innocent comments that he didn't think much of. To him, what he said sounded like a good idea. He didn't mean any malice towards Eru - whom he loved as his father - he was just speaking his mind, but that mind would wander into some questionable places. Manwë wasn't alarmed. He would chastise his brother a little if Melkor went too far, but Manwë thought Melkor was just thinking out loud, so to speak. His faith in his brother was too strong for him to even imagine that Melkor would really rebel. They were brothers, right? Two halves of a whole, right? And they both loved their Father.

9. Both Manwë and Melkor remember these early days as the simplest time of their existence. There was no one but themselves, and both of them think back to these times a lot. Melkor knows those days will never return; the path he chose prevented that from being a possibility. Manwë knows those days will never return, too; he is King of Arda now and responsible for stopping Morgoth.

10. The first Ainur who the two brothers met that wasn't each other was Varda. The brothers were drifting through the Timeless Halls when they came across Varda, who was experimenting with the creation of the stars (she hadn't created them yet, but she was testing her powers).

11. Both Manwë and Melkor were fascinated. They'd never met the other gender; before Varda, they only knew each other and Eru. It also intrigued them that in Varda's face, the light of Eru shone, a trait unique to her. Before long, the three of them hit it off.

12. Manwë and Melkor agreed that Varda has the best singing voice among the Ainur. They were a harmonious trio for the longest time. When Manwë and Melkor argued and had their silent treatment stage with each other, Varda would talk to each of them individually and get their point of view. Then she'd explain to the other what his brother thought of the situation. Thanks to her peacemaking abilities, they would reconcile faster. Despite how close the triad got, Varda left Manwë and Melkor alone at times; especially when she had talked to both of them after they argued. She leaves it up to them to actually reconcile. In her opinion, they should still be the ones to ultimately see the issue eye-to-eye, since they're brothers.

13. Varda and Manwë's dynamics vs. Varda and Melkor's dynamics? Let us see. Varda and Manwë's initial relationship was that of harmonious best friends. They poked fun at each other, explored their powers together, sang together (I have so many songs in my head that I can imagine these two doing a duet with, btw), and they encouraged each other when the other was feeling down. They got on very well. Varda and Melkor were more like siblings who didn't get along but still cared very much. Varda would mildly scold Melkor for his pride or his insensitivity, and Melkor would complain that it wasn't her business. At the end of the day though, they appreciated each other very much. Whenever Varda helped Melkor and Manwë reconcile, Melkor would always be genuinely grateful, and Varda would be happy to help, not just for Manwë's sake, but for Melkor's as well.

14. Melkor didn't show it and didn't even realize it at first, but he's possessive of his brother. Since the two of them were together since the very beginning, the thought of being the second closest to Manwë rubbed him the wrong way, especially as they started meeting other Ainur. Melkor tried to ignore his misgivings, but he sometimes let them subtly slip. Though not all the time, Manwë would notice and reassure Melkor that whoever he becomes friends with in the future, Melkor is his one and only brother and he can never be second best.

15. Melkor was fairly content with Manwë's assurances - until Manwë and Varda fell in love and were married. Suddenly, when the three of them were together, Melkor would remember that Manwë and Varda are now in a place that he can't be. They're in love, for Eru's sake, and (romantic) love is such a powerful and all-encompassing emotion; how could he possibly hope to maintain his place in Manwë's heart? In Melkor's mind, he had been bumped down to second best. At first, he denied his emotions and even felt guilty for thinking such things, for Manwë and for Varda. They were both so important to him, and he told himself that he ought to be happy for them; that he was happy for them.

15.5. Melkor was still filled with awe and happiness during Manwë and Varda's wedding, however. To this day he considers it one of the most beautiful sights he's ever seen. I’ve adopted @nyarnamaitar ‘s headcanon that weddings among the Ainur are something like two beings of light interweaving their fëas, and this sight put Melkor at awe. After the event, Melkor gave them both a hearty congratulations, ignoring his negative feelings (and becoming furious at himself in private).

16. When Melkor hid/ignored his insecurity, Manwë didn't notice. In Manwë's mind, romantic and platonic love were completely different things and he could balance his platonic love for his brother with his romantic love for Varda. He saw no need to choose between them; in fact, Manwë never really even considered it a "choice" that could - or should - be made. They were both so dear to him. To Manwë, that was more than enough.

17. Eventually, though, Manwë and Melkor drifted apart. Melkor was the first one to start building the distance; he unwittingly put up a wall between himself and his brother (and Varda), partially because he didn't want to see how much Varda and Manwë loved each other, and how, in his eyes, Manwë forgot all about him when he was with Varda, partially because he felt ridiculous and ashamed of his building resentment and didn't want Manwë and Varda noticing. When Manwë and/or Varda tried to approach him about it he brushed them off. By the time Melkor realized what he was doing, the gap between the brothers had grown, and neither brother had the courage to try to make amends anymore. Manwë was more willing, but with continuous rejections from Melkor his hope for reconciliation decreased. He thought that maybe Melkor just needed space. Then he thought that maybe Melkor was alright by himself, that his brother preferred being alone; that Melkor was purposely cutting him off. Varda tried to intervene, but for once, her diplomatic skills failed to bridge the gap between the two brothers. Melkor didn't want to try - he was still afraid of seeing Manwë "forgetting about him" (I use quotations, of course, because this was all in Melkor's head, (Manwë hadn’t forgotten him in the slightest), and afraid of Manwë seeing his increasing bitterness. Of course, his reticence didn't help Manwë, either.

18. It was at this point that Varda began to truly see the dark potential in Melkor. She would sometimes see him hovering about by himself, seemingly deep in thought. Something about that brooding look made her wary of him. It made her feel guilty, because it wasn't anything he said or did...Varda simply could not ignore the unease that gnawed at her. (If you can't tell, I have never liked the perception that Varda acted like a bitch to Melkor.)

19. Without Manwë, Melkor had nothing much to do. He wasn't particularly close with any of the other Ainur, although he spoke to Mairon, Aulë's apprentice, sometimes, and enjoyed it. Still, Mairon was no Manwë, and Melkor began to turn to his thoughts for company. Consequently, those rebellious notions that Manwë, and later Varda as well, had been keeping at bay, began to spring back full force (this was what Varda noticed and began to become wary of). Still, Melkor had no evil intentions. He was just thinking, reveling in his thinking, and imagining what could be. He still loved Eru, his Father, he still loved Manwë, his brother, and he still cared about Varda, who was like a sister to him, despite any resentment he had towards her.

20. The thought that he might be able to create appealed to Melkor, especially because he was really quite lonely during this time. He thought he could create something - someone - that would never leave him and would always treasure him first above all things. It was during this time that he began to grow resentful towards Manwë as well. Why, he wondered, was his brother leaving him? The way Melkor began to see it, Manwë wasn't trying to reconnect, so perhaps his brother didn't need him after all. Perhaps he was content to let Melkor fade by himself. At first, Melkor was horrified at himself for thinking such things, but he began to believe it as time passed and their estrangement was growing increasingly longer. Eventually, partially to spite Manwë (though it was unconscious and Melkor didn't recognize this desire within himself at the time) and partially from the desire to create, Melkor began searching for the Flame Imperishable.

21. As he searched with no success for the Flame Imperishable, Melkor began to wonder something else: why was it only Eru that could create life and realities? Why not he, Melkor, as well? What was Eru's motivation for keeping the power of creation to himself? Melkor grew suspicious, and his suspicions were only given more opportunity to take root because of his solitary existence. They were also inflamed by his constant failure to find what he was searching for. Despite his anger, his lack of success only heightened his determination to find the Flame, leading him to become extremely withdrawn from the other Ainur.

22. Seeing his brother relentlessly working for something made up Manwë's mind on the issue (with much sadness, I might add); he decided that he was right, Melkor didn't need him anymore and felt better on his own. To avoid showing his sorrow at this prospect, Manwë began to ignore his bond with his brother, thinking that he might accidentally interfere with Melkor's work if he let him know how dejected he was that Melkor "didn't need him anymore". Feeling Manwë deliberately shying away from their connection, Melkor's mind was made up as well: Manwë had left him. This "realization" caused Melkor's restrained resentment towards his brother to burst, which in turn led him to throw himself deeper into being able to create something of his own that would never leave him "as Manwë had". At this point, Melkor was also full of bitterness and jealousy towards Varda as well; in his mind, she had been able to give Manwë something that he couldn't, and that infuriated him.

23. Melkor was hellbent on claiming the Flame Imperishable and creating something of his own, and during his time relentlessly searching for it, his pride increased as well as he imagined what he could make. It was these thoughts that caused Discord in the Great Music, and Eru rebuked Melkor in front of all of the Ainur. Manwë was watching as well, and while he felt sympathetic towards his brother for getting scolded, he had no idea the cause of Melkor's Discord. He didn't think much of it, either; Melkor was always a little rebellious in his thinking, and Manwë thought his brother was just projecting those thoughts too much into the music. He did feel at the time that Melkor had gone too far and thought Eru was right to scold him, but he certainly never imagined what was really going through Melkor’s head. Manwë also still believed that Melkor wished to be alone; therefore, he barely approached him. The last thing Manwë wanted was to let Melkor know how much he missed their close relationship. After all, he thought Melkor was happier alone, and if his brother was happy, Manwë didn't want to be the one to ruin that. He did attempt to give Melkor a little greeting, but Melkor brushed him off coolly. His belief that Melkor preferred being alone reinforced, Manwë sorrowfully left him alone and rejoined Varda. Unbeknownst to him, Melkor had watched him returning to his wife.

24. Varda, on the other hand, instantly recognized that something within Melkor had changed for the worse. She saw pride, bitterness, and loneliness inside Melkor, which fueled his increasingly rebellious actions and mindset, but she still cared about Melkor, not wanting to believe he could really become so terrible, and was also concerned as to what an effect on Manwë her worries would have. Therefore, she didn't say anything yet, but Varda could never see Melkor the same again. If she was cautious of him before, she was full-on suspicious now.

25. Melkor, meanwhile, was conflicted. Part of him wished he could still reconcile with Manwë and was furious at himself for deflecting a potential conversation, but seeing his brother returning to Varda's side without even trying to lengthen their interaction angered him all over again. Manwë was not even trying to go back to how they once were, and Eru - he "realized" in that moment that Eru had let Manwë slip away from him and was now rebuking and preventing him from doing what he wanted: create and have someone to be by his side.

26. It didn't help Melkor's resentment towards Manwë when his brother stopped him from claiming the Field of Arda as his own. Manwë, meanwhile, had no ill intentions whatsoever. He had always spoken his mind to his brother when they were younger, and thought this would be no different. In Manwë's eyes, he was only explaining his point of view and why he believed the other Valar deserved their share as well. In Melkor's eyes, however, Manwë's words were yet another sign that his brother didn't need him anymore, didn't care to rekindle their bond anymore, if he ever had. His bitterness was fed when the Valar who descended to Arda declared Manwë as their lord. It seemed to him that no one was taking his side: not the other Valar, not Eru, his Father, and not even Manwë, his own brother. He was hurt and humiliated.

27. However, Manwë wasn't blind or stupid. He began to suspect the change in Melkor after his brother so eagerly claimed the Field of Arda for himself, with absolutely no consideration for the hard work of the other Valar. His brother had become more insensitive, more inconsiderate, and much more prideful. But more than that, Manwë saw the anger in Melkor's eyes when he disagreed with him, and it was so potent and full of rancor that it startled Manwë. He began to realize that his brother might have changed far more than he had realized.

28. Melkor decided that if Manwë was going to hurt him, he would hurt Manwë right back. It was this point that he began to truly go against the other Valar and Eru; anything they created, he would do his best to warp and tear down. It brought him sick satisfaction; if he couldn't create, if he couldn't have something of his own making that never leave him, something that he could call his own, he would try his hardest to prevent the other Valar from obtaining such things as well.

29. When Melkor went fully into rebellion, Manwë was...stunned. He was with Varda in their court in Taniquetil and hearing about Melkor's first destruction of the Valar's works, Manwë just sank down onto the ground, his legs no longer supporting him. He suspected, Eru help him, he'd suspected and then hated himself for it, but to hear that his brother had truly...he couldn’t believe it was true. The reality would not sink in. He felt only the white emptiness of shock. Then the bleakness of despair sank in. His brother was now an enemy.

30. At first, Manwë was utterly inconsolable. He wouldn't speak to anyone - Varda included. When she walked by his chambers or stopped to check on him she could only either hear silence or the sound of soft sobs.

31. Manwë blamed himself. During his period of withdrawal from the world, he would think back to the old days with Melkor, when it was only the two of them and they'd been sure, so very sure, that nothing in the cosmos could ever tear them apart. He thought of their singing to each other, their verbal play-fights, their reconciliations after arguments. He thought of the moment that Melkor had started to drift away and cursed himself over and over for not mending their relationship when he had the chance. Why didn't I stop him? he wondered. Why couldn't I see how torn my own brother was? In Manwë’s eyes, he failed Melkor. He was a terrible excuse for a brother.

32. Melkor's feelings were mixed. On one hand, he felt twisted gratification that he'd hurt Manwë the same way Manwë hurt him. You left me first, brother, and now I've returned the favor. How does that make you feel? At the same time, Melkor cried. He cried because he had betrayed his brother, the only being that he had known every moment and millisecond of his existence. He cried because he knew he'd hurt Manwë, and some part of him felt so terrible for it. He cried because he had abandoned his brother, and who would protect Manwë now, his noble, magnanimous brother? He cried because in revealing his enmity towards the Valar, he had destroyed all chance of returning to their simple, peaceful days. Forever.

Whew! And that is Part 1 finished. This went from making general headcanon speculations to full-on inserting excerpts from a nonexistent Manwë and Melkor story.

I admit, this set of headcanons sounds pretty damn borderline Manwë/Melkor. I don’t actually ship them because, as I said, my Silmarillion OTP is Manwë/Varda. Still, I think Manwë and Melkor have such a tragic past between them, that they both loved each other very, very deeply and without reservation. I will definitely say that I made their story seem a little needlessly angsty here, but hey -

- you do you, I do me.

Thanks for reading my long and shitty take on Manwë and Melkor.

Bold of me to assume that anyone read it at all though

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tumblunni · 5 years

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Also a character who really suffers from the flip flopping writing is Manjimutt. In his first episode he just seemed like a sad sympathetic old man who was getting shat on by the universe for no reason whatsoever, and i really wanted to hug him! And in his second episode he fought Roughraff with his bare hands to defend his friends, and actually won! And also helped Roughraff learn that some grownups are cool! And Manjimutt teared up when Nate said he was 'a grownup we can trust', and i was really cheering for him!! And then in his next episode its like he's entirely rewritten?? Now he's friggin pissing in public and sexually harassing underage schoolgirls and this is meant to be harmless and funny?? His quest to be seen as cute like other dogs now seems predatory and gross, and the joke of him being constantly arrested isnt a goddamn joke its YES PLEASE OFFICER THROW AWAY THE KEY

I hate it!! I got really invested in that guy!! Like thats inherantly sympathetic, him being unfairly hated just because he's 'old and ugly', and all this bad luck happening to him when he doesnt deserve it. He was my favourite character for two damn episodes!! Why did it take two episodes to remember to establish WHY this dude is actually hated and actually has all this bad luck?? Why did you make me waste my sympathy on him??

Man i really hope this is one of those cases of the anime changing things, like how Ray O Light isnt Drizzelda's stalker in the gameverse but actually a decent guy and her mutually consensual boyfriend. Cos it feels such a waste to have this concept of a sad dog dad and not let me cherish him and actually make him a massive asshole! GIVE ME AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WHERE HE IS GOOD MAN

ALSO

WTF WHY DID THE ANIME GIVE HIM THAT VOICE

Its not just me right, thats a weirdly charasmatic voice? He sounds like some james bond type thing and its really unfitting for his entire plot being about him apparantly being ugly. Why is he a supermodel in voice only..?

Oh but randomly i really like the voice for Walkappa! Such a cutie! His episode was funny with him just walking up and saying hi, and nate and whisper ignoring him and looking at all sorts of other spurious evidence to find a kappa. And then it just ends after that skit and the next episode actually makes fun of how they never resolved that plot thread, with "Calling... Walkappa! (wait when did we get him)" See i like that, a lot of the humour really is great and its just such a buzzkill that you can get caught up in laughing and have your good mood shot by some really meanspirited or creepily sexual moment.

Anyway i loved how earnest Walkappa's voiceactor was when he admitted his deep secret that he likes pizza instead of cucumbers. Tattletell's episode was also very awesome, i love how they made her super tiny and she hops like a frog. She was so cute even while being an asshole!! And walkappa was extra cute when he defeated her by having no embarassing secrets at all. "I like pizza! Sometimes i do the backstroke! You're all my friends!" Nate called him boring for it but i'd say its more wholesome instead. Walkappa confirmed for only good person in this show so far!

Oh also i really really really really really REALLY hate how the Obligatory Straight Romance is handled between Nate and Katie so far. We have NO IDEA why Nate even likes Katie except for looks, and he's always doing selfish stuff to try and score a date with her. And like we barely know any of Katie's personality either except that she seems to accidentally say insensitive things without meaning to, and then she got inspirited by a yokai that makes you tell secrets and it got even worse. And then in the hungramps episode Nate is a MASSIVE ASSHOLE to Katie and is all "ugh she's eating burgers she's gonna get fat and i wont like her anymore" and then he says to her face that she "looks terrible" even though the animators didnt bother to make her look any different at all. And then later on he uses another yokai to erase her memory of being mad at him so he doesnt have to face the consequences. Im glad at least that that one backfired in his face! So yeah ALL WE EVER SEE of this supposed romance is nate being horrible to her, nate being horrible to otjer people in order to win her, or her being horroble to him but at least its mildly more forgiveable cos it was an accident. But still there are some really contrived accidents! So honestly she kinds seems like an asshole too and she's just lying or something...

Oh but Wazzat is cute and i liked how its episode was the first sorta high stakes episode of a yokai actually fighting nate instead of just causing mischief. It was a lil scary how thos goofy voiced hat went from comedy to talking about its tragic backstory and feeling so betrayed that it was gonna go all out in battle! But it was sweet that nate learned his lesson FOR ONCE and also helped heal the loneliness of this weird hat friend.

...aaaand then last minute twist ending where poor wazzat's happiness gets pulled away at the last second. Literally "dont worry i'll be your friend, all you wanted is someone who wouldnt forget you" and then wazzat accidentally uses its powers to erase everyone's memory and they stop being its friend again. AND THE EPISODE JUST ENDS

How is that funnyyyy

Aaa do i just have too much sympathy for things?? I keep telling myself i'll try and remember its just a comedy show and not get invested in any of the characters but GAH if youre even slightly invested in them it gets infinately less funny! Im no good with humor based on cute magic people bein real sad...

I WAS SO READY TO HUG YOU, GODDAMN MANJIMUTT

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arachcobra · 5 years

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Naruto Episode 11 & 12 Review

Got PTSD? Just walk it off, you baby.

Review of Naruto Episode 11 and 12: The Land Where a Hero Once Lived and Battle on the Bridge! Zabuza Returns!

ArachCobra

So in this one, we start out with having Sakura guard Tazuna on the bridge, all alone. I'm just like, what? Apparently, it's because Kakashi is still not feeling well and Naruto and Sasuske are still struggling with the tree climbing things. So they do try to explain it. But the problem here is that there is no fucking way Kakashi can know when Zabuza will be back. Yeah, he can make an estimate based on the guy's injuries, but he doesn't know if Zabuza has some super healing ninja in his employ. For all he knows, Zabuza is heading for the bridge at a speed of mach fuck you right that very instant.

He isn't and Sakura is not gruesomely cut into confetti, but that's just because Zabuza has no easy way to recover. But this is still very risky.

Also, Tazuna calls Sakura lazy for yawning, which I feel is entirely uncalled for. Some guy named Giichi feels working on the bridge is getting too risky, so he quits, with Tazuna yelling at him.

Later, Sakura and Tazuna goes shopping and we get to see just how badly Gato has ruined the Land of Waves. It's an admittedly effective scene.

This is then ruined by the dinner scene where Sasuke and Naruto are shoveling down food so fast they have to puke. Hey, assholes, people are starving right now. Least you could do is respect the food you're given by not choking on it, just because you have to prove you're better than each other. Seriously, this is not team work. Time and time again we see this competition between Naruto and Sasuke makes them take quite frankly idiotic decisions that are detrimental for the team as a whole. Kakashi should get his act together and tell the two of them to get their shit together.

And then Sakura stares at a slightly damaged photo on the wall and Odysseus, the dialogue. To paraphrase Sakura: “There's a picture here. But it's torn. How did it get torn? It seems very important. The one who tore it must have had some sort of reason. I wonder why.” Honestly, most likely explanation is that Kakashi noticed the plot point hanging on the wall and asked Sakura to point it out until someone would say something and move the story along.

So then we get the tale of Kaiza. About how he saved Inari from drowning thanks to a trio of child bullies straight out of a Stephen King story. About how he saved the village when the floodgate broke. It's an interesting story, but made kinda silly by being punctuated by so much overly dramatic music and flowery language about how Kaiza: “Taught people the meaning of the word courage.”

And then Gato has Kaiza tortured by a group of goons before publicly executing him.

How... How can he do that? Is there no government in the Land of Waves? How did he get so powerful that he can execute people? In front of a large crowd of people even. In front of the guy's family. Did he buy out the government? How does that work? I mean, have him killed, yeah, that I can imagine, but publicly executing him for disturbing the order of the land? Kinda ridiculous.

And that's why Inari doesn't believe in heroes. Naruto goes out to train because he wants to show Inari that heroes do exists.

Neat.

For the next episode, let me just start by complaining about the title. It's called Zabuza Returns and Battle on the Bridge, but that's a fabrication at best. Zabuza and Haku show up at the very end of the episode and there is no battle on the titular bridge. Its just misleading.

Anyway, Haku crossdresses and meets Naruto in the forest and they exchange some awkward dialogue about having someone important. And that only by having someone important will you be strong. I guess that really depends on one's definition of strength, so I'm not gonna harp on that too much.

Anyway, tree climbing continues and Sasuke and Naruto returns, sweating, panting and covered in dirt. If you told me that's because they decided to celebrate with a victory quickie in the bushes, I'd believe you. These two really do come off as if they have some closeted feelings for each other.

Anyway, Inari says its all futile and Naruto calls him a coward and a crybaby.

Yeah, doesn't matter that the kid is traumatized by the death of his father and the decline of his country, while constantly having to worry that any day now, his grandfather will be slaughtered. Doesn't matter that this constant oppressive atmosphere of fear and futility has made him a nervous wreck with PTSD. Just get over it, kid. Anything else is cowardice.

In case it isn't obvious, I find this scene kinda sickening and insensitive.

Now, Kakashi says that Naruto didn't say anything he hadn't already told himself and that Naruto has suffered too. Well, great. Two problems. One, Naruto has not gone through the exact same scenario as Inari and even if he had, he'd probably have reacted differently, because people are different. He has no right to demand that Inari ”gets over it.” Second issue, from a narrative point, how bad did Naruto have it? We have some general ideas that he was excluded and people looked down on him, but it hasn't really been elaborated upon. We're just told Naruto has it bad and that's it. So here, the story trips over itself trying to justify Naruto yelling at a traumatized kid who's not even had a chance to properly grieve and get over the soul-shattering losses he's experienced.

To put it mildly, it doesn't really work. No matter how much the show insists that Naruto understands Inari's pain.

Anyway, next day, Zabuza shows up, Naruto is late and Gato's henchmen are getting ready to kidnap Tsunami and Inari. Oh, who's Tsunami? Inari's mother. She's been around for three episodes, but does very little. I think we only learned her name this very last episode in fact.

Shame. You'd think somebody with the name Tsunami would be a character you should keep an eye on.

Anyway, first episode works just fine. Second one dragged down by Naruto's treatment of Inari. Seriously, that's not okay.

Givenea

Inari, grandson of Tazuna takes over the role as awesomest character, for telling Naruto how dumb he is.

We then learn that Inari has lost all hope because a business tycoon turned his homeland into a dictatorship, everyone is starving and poor and his stepfather (who was the most amazing dad ever) was executed by said tycoon for trying to make things better.

Then Naruto calls him whiny.

Yup, Inari, an eight-year-old, who has lost his freedom and security and is struggling to cope with the loss of the only father he ever knew, is whiny. And Naruto is the right character to set him straight, because… a few people sneered at him…?

That’s all we’ve seen… Let me elaborate.

Back in episode 1, the big bad, Mizuki informs Naruto (and the audience) that Naruto is shunned and hated by the villagers because he is the container of the nine tailed fox. But this doesn’t stand up to scrutiny.

Within the first episode we see Naruto be chased down by ninjas, sneered at by his classmates and some random women and conned by Mizuki into stealing secret information.

This is not bad; it sets up that there is bad blood in between at least some villagers and Naruto. Next step would be to reinforce this idea over the next few episodes while establishing a norm for Naruto’s day to day life in Konoha. Naruto does runs into trouble with villagers a bunch of times within the first two episodes but only once or twice is their scorn unprovoked on his part. Going over them in order:

Episode 1:

Chased by ninja: He committed vandalism and skipped school. - Was punished by having to clean up his mess.

Sneered at by classmates - Because he mouthed off, they all had to redo a test.

Sneered by random women – Apparently unprovoked. Could be viewed to refer to the fox

Conned by Mizuki – Because he had the fox, Mizuki figured he could get away with it, taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable.

Episode2

Scolded by the Hokage – Naruto screwed up his ID and mouthed off.

Beaten by random woman – She was angry over Konohamaru’s botched transformation, unprovoked, but also nothing to do with the fox.

Thrown out of bookstore – Clerk did not allow reading before buying, had every right to toss them out.

Beaten by women in the bath - After attempting to sneak in and peep on them. They also immediately recognize, not only that Naruto and Konohamaru are transformed, but one also cries out: “Naruto, you again?”. Giving the distinct impression that this is a common occurrence.

Fight with Ebisu – while Ebisu does refer to Naruto as a fox, he seems far more miffed at Naruto taking Konohamaru all over town and distracting him from his training.

Ok, two things

Most people do not seem to care about the fox, whatsoever. They are instead reacting to Naruto’s actions, which are annoying at best and criminal at worst.

Nobody really seems to hate Naruto enough to step in and stop him from hanging out with the Hokage’s grandson. If Naruto was really shunned to the point we are supposed to believe, wouldn’t they try to save Konohamaru from the monster they believe the blond brat to be?

So while some people have treated Naruto pretty harshly, the whole thing fails in setting him up as an outcast through no doing of his own. It also fails at putting him through anything even remotely as bad as what Inari has suffered. So, when Kakashi later try to smooth things over, and encourage Inari, by explaining Naruto’s hardships and saying he got tired of whining and decided to do something about it, it falls flat.

Not only that, but when did Naruto ever stop whining? He pouts like a child whenever he doesn’t get his way.

Moving along.

After learning the tree-lesson instantly, last episode, Sakura is put on guard duty… well, it needs to be done, but couldn’t Kakashi have given her some other training since she’s ahead of the curve here? Not to mention, what is she gonna do if Zabuza or one of his people shows up? She is one lone genin, who has barely started her training as such. He, even wounded, is a highly trained jonin and we know that he has at least Haku to help him out.

Could be that this is just Kakashi’s way of paying lip service to doing this job.

So, Tazuna calls her lazy… I haven’t the foggiest why. After having lied to her superiors and then guilted her team into staying on a mission they are in no way qualified for, he should understand that just showing up is going above and beyond what anyone could expect from them.

So I guess these episodes are just here to make everyone look bad.

Oh yeah, and then Zabuza and Haku shows up.

Fluttersniper13

Sasuke and Naruto are having a dick measuring competition, Sakura is useless, family issues all over the place, Gato is god and everything is miserable. So, the usual shit.

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13125294/8/Naruto-Rewrite-1-Road-to-Ninja

#naruto #naruto rewrite #review

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clairekatswritingcorner · 6 years

Text

The Demonstration

Word Count: 1,232

Summary: When D brings home a guitar she found abandoned in the desert, Rhys learns about one of his wife’s talents he never could have predicted.

*Author’s Note*: A commission for @robotarmjokes! My first commission of 2019, and it’s about this wonderful ship…thank you again D! I was just as surprised as Rhys to discover her knack for guitar, but I also found it equally impressive, and I hope I did her husband’s cheeky reaction justice. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“Where did you find that thing?”

Not long after they’d first met, Rhys discovered that D seemed to have a knack for spotting rare gems amongst dirt. In this case, the gem happened to be none other than what appeared to be a vintage guitar. Well, most items native to Europa were considered vintage out here in the far reaches of space. But from the way D regarded this instrument, Rhys had a feeling that it meant more than he’d assumed at first glance. The detail and intricacy of its design indicated that it’d been crafted with a significant amount of skill and love. The way D held it demonstrated an equal amount of care and caution, and it made Rhys’s heart skip a little to see the broker with such a soft, genuine smile gracing her lips. More to his surprise, when he’d arrived it looked like D was trying to play it. Trying and succeeding. He’d never known his wife had a knack for the musical.

The minute she heard his voice, she almost fell out of her seat. Rhys lunged forward to catch her, and namely the delicate guitar, before either of them could collide with the hard floor. Luckily D managed to regain her balance, simultaneously maintaining a death grip on the instrument that preserved its safety. She often lamented the lack of poise coupled with innate clumsiness she often demonstrated that had sent her tripping into Rhys’s embrace more than once; naturally, he wasn’t one to complain about it. In this case, though, it was obvious she’d been preoccupied with protecting the instrument over herself. Due to her less than flattering self-image, it wasn’t rare for D to consider other things—almost anything else—before herself, be it people or objects, regardless of how inconsequential or incomparable they seemed. Rhys had been trying to help her break away from that habit bit by bit, but now wasn’t the time to bother reprimanding her for her self-disregard.

“You scared the life out of me! Give me some sort of warning next time, will you?” Apparently, D was the one who was going to be doing the reprimanding, anyway. “I could have hurt myself or you when I panicked!”

“You know I can block any of your valiant blows with my arm,” Rhys teased, flashing her a glimpse of the shiny silver peeking out from one of his sleeves. “If you even reached me, that is. You’re short enough, I think I would still be safe from a guitar assisted assault at this distance.”

“Come closer and we’ll see what you have to say then, wiseass,” the broker snapped, and Rhys did his best to stifle his laughter.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he confessed, raising his hands in a repentant gesture. “But seriously, where did you find that? And when did you learn how to play?”

“I found it in a junk pile on a job last week. There’re all sorts of things in the outskirts of those raided bandit lairs and outposts all over the desert. Sometimes I like to give them a once-over and see if there’s anything worth salvaging just lying around, left behind,” D explained, and Rhys was happy to distract her from his irritating quips for a moment. “As for your second question…someone quite dear to me taught me how to play. She’s the one that got me interested in guitars in the first place.”

Her last comment made his heart ache and stomach clench, and he checked her expression to determine if he’d said too much. The cyborg knew there were plenty of things about people dear to D that were probably best left out of casual conversation. He wanted to respect her privacy, and her feelings, so he figured it would be better to let any further questions concerning this particular subject lie.

“Well, from what I heard, you sounded really good,” he complimented, approaching her and placing his soft human hand on her shoulder. “And this one looks like it’s in great condition. Hard to believe anything can survive this well after being left out in the sand and sun like that.”

“I had to dress it up a bit,” she corrected him. “But you’re right, it was in much better condition than I expected, too. It really was a rare find…I’m lucky I came across it.”

“Think you could show me how to play?” Rhys asked, shifting to rest his arm against her shoulder. His tone had a playful edge, but his words were serious. He tilted D’s chin up to get her to look at him, intent on ensuring she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I bet you’d be a really great teacher.”

Face flushing at the drop of a hat, D averted her gaze as quickly as she could, fiddling nervously with the strings beneath her fingers. “I don’t have an extra one, and I wouldn’t want your robot hand to end up getting out of hand—”

“What, you think I’d end up breaking it?” he bantered dramatically, pressing a hand against his chest in an affronted fashion.

“Well, I just think sometimes you don’t know your own strength—” D responded, trying to reassure him under the impression that her words really had upset him.

He patted her arm comfortingly, kissing her cheek and giving her a mischievous wink. “How about this, you play a song we both know, and I’ll try to add my own flair to it?”

The broker was a little confused—and mildly concerned—about what the CEO meant by that, but she still felt like she needed to make up for her previously insensitive remark. Following his suggestion, she started strumming the strings, producing a melody that was plenty familiar to both of them. It was actually a song they often listened to together, one that made both of their hearts swell with love for one another whenever they heard even a whisper of its lovely notes. Rhys stood silently for a few moments, just enjoying the sound of D’s wonderful playing. He seemed to be learning something new and intriguing about her almost every day lately, and of course, it certainly wasn’t something he’d ever been tempted to complain about. Much like her eye for rare potential in the random pieces of rubbish she occasionally came across, Rhys saw nothing but magnificence in her. It was part of what he loved about her.

Coming in at a lull in notes, Rhys lent his voice to the flow of the song. D’s fingers stuttered, distracted enough by his sudden accompaniment that she almost lost her place. But he touched her arm encouragingly, and she readjusted her focus the best she could to continue supporting his words with her sweet music. She’d fallen asleep to his voice more than once; his singing was one of her favorite sounds in the world, hands down. When they were able to showcase their talents, their hobbies together like this, it felt like just another reminder that this was how life was meant to be. Rhys’s voice was D’s solace, and her talents were his treasure. They could only hope that they’d be able to share even more of themselves with one another in similar ways, continuing to strengthen their connection that transcended words, and communicating the unspoken and unbreakable love that thrived between them.

#self insert #selfinsert #self ship #selfship #oc x canon #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #selfship fic #selfship fanfiction #self insert commissions #selfship commissions #my writing #claire writes #one shot #robotarmjokes #commission

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