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#and as i say every time we then are complicit in it when we discuss it even though it's all public record
septembersghost · 1 year
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Sometimes I think harry's explanation on fine line(having s*x and feeling sad) suits hs1 better simply because that's all the album is about. I always think about his 2015-16 and I can't imagine it being any other way. Like I think 2015 was his worst year . First taylor left him and showed up with her bf 3 months after leaving him. Then zayn left the band and he definitely hated(atleast resented zayn for that) . He was snarky everytime zayn was brought up. I also felt like the boys also isolated him and blamed him for z.In some bts there was ot3 standing close then there was.......harry. If louis blamed harry in 2019 for breaking band we can imagine how he behaved in 15. on top there was Robin's cancer. So he had a lot to deal with and he was only 21-22. I genuinely don't think I'll be able to go through all that unscathed. So he didn't have a silver lining to look for in that stage and he used sex as a defence mechanism. Taylor left him when he had a bit more less-messy life I don't think hs1 would be this sad and maybe would've been more positive. I felt like tay left him when he desperately needed someone in his life who truly understands him as a support system. While he wrote it as a heartbreak album there is a lot of underlying issues in it. While he asks 'take the pain away' he is not just talking about Taylor. He is talking about everything in his life. I think Olivia perfectly describes how much he needed her companionship at that moment of his life.
that explanation of fine line is so inaccurate, and i think he said that to try and conceal some of its heartbreak/darkness/vulnerability, but it does the record a bit of a disservice. it's much more than that. i do agree that description is more fitting for HS1, though he does tackle some of that in a deeper way there as well.
idk that i'd characterize his response to zayn as hating him, but he definitely was upset/annoyed and played that off with snarky humor. i'd imagine it also frustrated him that zayn expressed some dismissal of the band as a whole, since harry has always openly been very proud of their music and what they achieved and created, but naturally the two of them had disparate experiences and walked away with individual feelings. i haven't necessarily picked up on the other boys blaming him (although i have seen commentary about h being blamed for the "hiatus" and some of the resentment that went along with that, whether unfounded or not), but that could be due to seeing things in hindsight rather than as they happened. (niall and harry seem quite close to me in press for mitam!)
agree that was a very difficult and tumultuous time for him, and it's easy to forget he was still SO young. there's real grief tucked away on a lot of HS1, and masking that with sex is not at all uncommon. the sorrow and feeling of not knowing how to handle everything is probably clearest in ever since new york, especially since he's said that it's about that specific loss, but shades of it and that uncertainty and hurt show up in ftdt/mmith and even two ghosts as well.
keeping in mind she was also very unwell and in an escalatingly bad place at this time, it makes additional sense as to why they never found a safe moment to land or an ability to work that out. two young, adrift people just trying to hold on and make it through various terrible storms weren't going to be able to build a lasting foundation.
While he asks 'take the pain away' he is..talking about everything in his life. definitely. fame itself is such a monster to deal with and to survive, and to be thrown headfirst into that as a teenager and try to surface and cope with early adulthood and finding your sense of self and experiencing such formative events...the trade-off of success and money or whatever for sharing your creativity and talent being that intrusive, incessant fame is nightmarish to consider. the entire concept of scrutiny on that level fills me with dread tbh. and it's been challenging and hard from the advent of popular celebrity, we've seen its destruction on so many people, sadly. it's incredible anyone survives it with their minds and hearts intact at all.
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seven: me and the devil, walking side by side
Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.
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Chapter summary: an unwelcome visitor brings everything to a head Chapter warnings: Reader is a single parent to a teenager, mentions of breakups, discussions of cults/religious movements and violence within these, threat of a gun, tension, lightly implied panic attack/anxiety, 18+ blog mdni, Notes: Chapter title i
s from Me and the Devil, originally by Gil-Scott Heron but I have both this and the Soap&Skin version on my playlist for this fic. Thanks for all of your patience with this chapter. It’s a big one! Word Count: 5.4k
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Previous | Series | Next
You’ve been through breakups before. It’s nothing new. Usually you like to be the one to leave before you can be left. That takes out some of the salt in the wound.
Your separation from Joel hurts though. It physically hurts.
Your chest aches, your eyes sting, you miss him. Every small detail brings Joel to you; a flannel shirt, the soap everyone in Jackson.
You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve distanced yourself from a good man - and aren’t those rare to find?- or the impending fear of The Junction. Perhaps it’s both.
On the moments that Joel is not haunting you, your past is.
Beau once asked you whether you were sure that breaking up with Joel was a good idea, if it would perhaps be better to bring him on side. That’s Beau; a survivor, pragmatic to his core.
You can’t quite find the words to voice what it would have meant to you to tell Joel. You still feel complicit somehow in everything that Ethan did, you realised too late, you didn’t stop him. There’s too much shame ingrained in your body for you to tell Joel.
The pain of the breakup feels like a suitable punishment.
“Anything?” you ask Beau as you sip your tea in the kitchen.
Beau shakes his head wearily. “No sign on anyone yet.” He pauses. “If I had to say anything though, it’s almost too …. clean. There’s no sign of anyone, sweetheart, anyone or anything.”
“They’re cleaning their tracks?”
“Probably.”
“Shit. We should leave.”
“We’re better off here than out there,” Beau replies calmly, “‘sides, we can’t just haul Gabe off in the middle of the night now. He’ll ask questions.” There’s an unspoken question - will you ever tell your son the truth?
“I hate this.”
“Me too. We’re going to get through this though.”
“Are we?”
“Of course.”
“Who were you patrolling with?” you ask, eager to change the subject.
Beau shifts uncomfortably. “Just -”
“Joel?”
He nods. ‘Did he notice the clean-up?“
“Things like that don’t get past him. He’s … aware of techniques like that.” probably for the same reasons as Beau. Their chequered histories made them survivors and in some strange kept people they love safe - Ellie for Joel, Sean and you for Beau. “We both commented on it. Joel doesn’t know about the junction though, he’ll assume it’s more like raiders. He wants to raise it in the town meeting tonight - I think he’d mention it sooner if it was more than just a theory. Maybe that can work to our advantage though.”
“How?”
“Well, if he says to Maria then she’ll probably put a stop to traders for a bit. That might protect us a little longer if Jackson’s more closed. It’ll give us time to decide on what we’re doing.” Beau smiles at you. “You and Sean, you’re not alone in this. You, Gabriel, Sean and me … we’re sticking together.”
You nod, sniffing loudly. You won’t cry, you won’t.
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“There’s a trader in,” Esther says casually, smiling as you look up from your books.
It’s probably nothing, it’s probably just one of the usual traders who passes through Jackson, but that doesn’t explain why your blood is turning cold and your palms are sweaty.
“A trader? One of our usuals?”
“No, no, never seen him before.”
“Oh, really?” you ask, schooling your expression as much as you can. “What does he look like?”
“Not as good looking as Joel Miller, how you let a man like that go, I will never know.” Esther sighs and you remember that when Joel first came to town, Tommy had been trying to match the two of them. It hadn’t lasted long. You’d asked Joel about it once but he’d been polite, a southern gentleman to a tee so you knew even if there was a story, it wasn’t one you’d hear any time soon.
“Well, I’m sure he’d be heartened to hear your support on that. So, the trader?”
“I don’t know, he had dark hair and he - he had presence, a slight limp though.”
“A limp?”
“Uh huh. Shame really, and some burns but other than that …. he seemed real friendly, had a Victorian doll for trade too, might have some things for your boy. I heard a rumour about coffee.”
You walk past Esther, barely letting her complete her sentences before you’re heading out of the library.
Beau’s on the way to the hall. He’s in the stables and you can see him chatting with Ellie as you approach them.
“Hey Beau, Hi Ellie,” you say, walking in and smiling broadly. You think it’s a normal, false smile but by Beau’s expression, and Ellie’s, you’ve failed miserably. “Beau, there’s a trader at the community hall, want to go check it out?”
Beau looks at you and you hope he’s noticed how you said trader, how you all but winked and raised an eyebrow at the gesture.
“Oh, really?”
“We were talking about trading some of our old stuff soon, right? From back when?”
He definitely understands now. “Of course. Ellie, it was real nice talkin’ to you.”
Before you can leave, Ellie grabs you arm. “Wait, can you just wait a moment?”
No, you think, but it’s Ellie and you’ve already let her down so many times recently, that you nod. “Catch up in a moment, Beau?”
“Okay. I’ll be outside.” If you know, he’ll probably be working on a plan, just in case. He’ll be looking for signs of more of them. You and Sean told him about Ethan’s strategies, about his plans if that first gated community failed.
Ellie looks worried, her arms are folded around herself and it reminds you she’s still just a child, only fifteen. Younger than your own son.
“How are you doing, Ellie?”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah, over the whole arm thing and the accident. I know it made you and Joel argue and then - and then you broke up. I know it’s-”
“Ellie, it was nothing to do with that,” you say vehemently, “Nothing at all about you. I promise.”
“Then why? I thought you liked him?”
“I did.” You do.
“I’ll never understand any of this,” Ellie laments, shaking her head. “Why not just - why’d you come into our lives just to do this then?”
You would have preferred it if she hit you. “I never wanted to hurt you, or Joel. I promise that. I’m - I have to go, Ellie, but I - we can talk more.”
“‘S no point. Unless, is there?” Ellie looks up hopefully.
You shake your head, digging your hands into your pockets. “Take care, Ellie.”
You have to get to the hall, you have to hope your fears are unfounded.
You can’t feel your fingers.
You know.
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There are fresh flowers on each table in the hall; it’s a simple gesture, one that intimates the security, the homeliness of Jackson. It’s a place where you can do that again, it’s about living not surviving.
It clashes with the raging survival instinct in you, the fear that your home isn’t as safe as you hoped. The knowledge that everything is about to come crashing down.
What if they’ve already infiltrated? What if there’s been a Junction spy reporting back for months? They would despise you for what you did. They would demand your blood. But what if he …
You look over at the crowd around the trader and begin moving forward with Beau, each step in sync, his presence an unspoken crutch.
You hope you’re wrong about this.
He is not who you remember. That is the first thing you think when you see him. His hair is longer now with his limp, thinning dark locks tied back in a scraggly ponytail. There are more lines on his face, a vicious burn on one hand and you know underneath his clothes will be the hidden scars you left him with - you missed the first time. The second time you hit his leg though.
His eyes widen with delight when he sees you walk into the building. “You,” he exclaims, “At long last, we meet again.”
In your imagination, this scene always was more obviously like a horror film. In your nightmares, you’d be bleeding, taken, surviving once more. The scene was always in some abandoned warehouse, cabin or barn too.
You watched too many movies growing up.
However, you could have never expected this moment would happen in Jackson’s community hall. You could never have expected there would be an audience either. People are still milling around, looking at his potential wares, going about their day like the world hasn’t just ended once more. You want to scream at them, you want to call the insanity of this situation out but your feet are rooted to the floor with thick tendrils of fear holding you in place.
You notice Joel and Tommy at one table. Joel’s eyes look confused as he seems to gauge your expression.
You can see Sean standing near Maria. Sean looks so uneasy; almost grey, and you cannot imagine how your friend is feeling right now, you know he suffered in his own way at The Junction. His face is calm though, he’s planning, waiting for the right moment. You recognise the way his hands are shoved into his jeans pocket though, the way his eyes move wildly around the room when he thinks no one is looking at him.
Your legs feel shaky but you refuse to lean against Beau, to show any weakness in this situation. This situation has been a long time coming.
It’s been seventeen years. You are not who you were then. You have been shaped by him and the Junction, that is true, but you’ve become your own person again. Each tragedy, each win, each memory has sculpted who you are at this moment, has trained you for this moment.
Beau whispers your name, gives you choices on how you play this. He’s on your side, that’s clear, that’s beyond question. Part of you wants to hand the situation over to him, to let Beau deal with it while you bury your head in the sand once again.
That’s not possible though.
You wonder if it’s only the four of you who are aware of the tension at this moment. It’s a secret that your neighbours and friends can’t see, that you never wanted them to see.
And Joel -
Everyone is in danger now.
“Hi honey,” Ethan says loudly with a smile, “It’s been a while. Why don’t you come on over and say hi to your husband now?”
His words have the desired effect; everyone stops, everyone stares, heads moving in a ripple of movement throughout the hall.
Next to Sean, Maria’s smile fades and her face hardens. You hear the hushed whispers around you as they realise Ethan is looking and talking to you.
It’s Joel you want to look at though. You feel drawn to him like Orpheus, knowing you can’t look and desperate to all at once. You remember how he was unable not to turn around in those Greek myths, how you’d argued in class it was foolish and inevitable all at once.
Is this you now? Are you the damned, foolish one? Is your failure, your doom, inevit
Seeing Ethan solidifies everything; Joel is the person you love, the man who loved you and you have lost him because of your secrets and past, in a foolhardy attempt to protect Gabriel.
Gabriel. He’s nowhere to be found as you look around you and you’re grateful for that. You can protect him for just a few more minutes.
Instead of your son, instead of Ethan, you finally allow yourself to glance at Joel. Joel’s face is pulled into a frown and he looks … hurt. You’ve hurt him once again.
You can imagine his thoughts right now - he’ll be wondering why he bothered to trust you, how you hid this from him and why.
“I -” you stutter words, your mouth opening and closing without making any sense. You exhale slowly. “How’s your leg?”
Sean bursts out laughing. It’s a strange, mangled giggle borne of surprise and worry that immediately stops as people look at him.
“So how’s that how we’re playing things, huh?”
“This isn’t a game, Ethan.”
“Isn’t everything you do a game?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t - you were married, you were married to him?” Tommy exclaims, looking at Joel and then you in the vain hope one of you will provide an answer. There’s an unspoken conversation between the two brothers, one clearly Tommy isn’t happy about. “Who is he?” Tommy says your name in a low voice, imploring you to confide in him.
“He shouldn’t be here, he needs to leave.”
“I need to leave?” Ethan asks, an unreadable expression on his face. “So you haven’t told them anything about who you really are then? They don’t know there’s a fox in the chicken coop?” He says your name, tutting with disappointment.
Whispers carry around you like leaves in the wind. You’re not sure what people are thinking right now. You’ve been too quiet, too secretive, it would be easy to wonder who you really are. In another world, maybe this is who would have been - his dutiful wife and spy.
You notice Maria saying something quietly to Tommy, how the two of them are subtly clearing the hall of bystanders. Joel is staring between you and Ethan with a blank face.
Do they think you’re a victim or the perpetrator in this scenario? You notice Beau take the smallest step forward, readying himself for something.
“I don’t think this conversation is serving our community right now,” Maria says flatly.
“Hey Joel,” you hear a familiar voice call. ”Has the trader got anything good? You better not have traded like half of everything you own for coffee again. I honestly don’t get the whole coffee thing anyway, it tastes like burnt- ” Ellie’s voice breaks off.
Your heart races as Ellie, Jesse and to your horror Sean walk into the community hall, completely oblivious to what’s happened but seemingly starting to realise that something is going on.
“Not now, Ellie,” Joel gruffly says.
“What’s uh -” Ellie breaks off.
Ethan is staring at Gabriel and your heart sinks. For sixteen years, you have convinced yourself that Gabriel doesn’t look like Ethan, that there’s no passing resemblance at all.
There is though.
You see it now and it feels like a glaring beacon, another lie come home to roost. A truth you couldn’t avoid forever. He’s yours, you know that, but together in the same room you can see the similarities.
“Mu-” Ethan begins warily, noticing the tension around the room. He looks alert, worried, ready to do whatever is necessary. That’s how it is in this world - you have drummed survival into him from an early age. It feels antithetical though, that the child you want to protect and nurture knows how to fight, how to endure this world you placed him into.
Sean immediately takes a step towards him, but Joel’s there first, a strange look in his eyes. “You need to go home, all of you. Now.”
“But -”
“No arguments, Ellie.” His tone is firm. To anyone else, they would think him a strict parent, a firm, resolute man who accepts no arguments. You can hear the worry though, the slight fear in his voice that Ellie is here. That you have endangered her. Endangered everyone.
“Ergh,” Ellie says but she holds her hands up and takes a step backwards exit with Jesse. She looks over at you and then Ethan and then Gabriel, a frown forming on her face and then she pauses.
“Well, isn’t today full of revelations,” Ethan says in a wonderstruck tone. “It’s curious. He really does look -”
“Oh fuck off.”
It’s enough though. Those few words and you realise Gabriel is putting things together. The betrayal and fury in his eyes eviscerates you.
You look at the ground, hearing the shudder of your breath. No. No.
“Holy shit,“ you hear Ellie mumble under her breath.
“Ellie!” Joel says, the desperation starting to become clearer.
How much does our -” Ethan continues.
“Ethan, shut the fuck up and just go,” Sean interrupts.
“You’ve got braver on the outside. It’s a shame you showed none of this in the Junction when -”
“Thank you for stopping by,” Maria says, her voice even and cool, “It’s time you head on out now though.”
Joel clasps Gabriel’s shoulder so he can’t pass, can’t get any closer to the chaos around you.
“Leave, huh? Well, I think that perhaps you’re mistaken. I didn’t just come here for my son after all.” Ethan sighs. “It’s been a hard winter.”
Joel tightens his grip on Gabriel’s shoulder. Beau and Tommy exchange a look.
You wish you had a weapon, had something to stop this.
You shouldn’t have missed the first time, you shouldn’t have aimed for his leg the second time either.
“So, how many settlements have you been through now?” Sean asks in a nonchalant tone. “I think after two or three, it really says more about -”
“The Junction goes where it is needed. I have heard it is needed here.”
“We don’t need the Junction here,” you say quietly. “No one needs that.”
“You’d rather be damned?”
“If the alternative is an eternity with you, with pleasure,” you say icily.
You hear a slight snort of laughter and turn to meet Joel. He’s still resting a hand on your son’s shoulder, but he’s looking at you. He nods, a subtle gesture anyone else might have missed but that fills you with relief.
You might get through this.,
“You got your fire back, I’d almost forgotten. Now, what was it you used to say when we discussed this. When we discussed what to do about reluctant participants, people who didn’t know they needed to be saved? You remember this is the nice way? It could have been very different after all, but I am here offering magnanimous absolution, even to you.”
“I don’t need your absolution. I don’t need anything from you but for you to go now. For you to leave this settlement, leave these people alone. That’s what all of them need, to be away from you.”
“You think it’s right that they’re here without the Junction’s Word, but maintain all these resources while your own-”
“Leave. While you can,” you say flatly.
“Do these people even know you?”
“You need to go, Ethan, now,” Sean says firmly. “We said we don’t need the Junction here. This can end amicably.”
“Amicably?”
“Yeah, no need for it not to, right? Democracy over depravity - that’s the Junction’s way, right? The old ways, the right ways as you used to call it.” Sean’s face twists into a tormented grimace at those words.
Beau scowls and you realise that while you’ve kept the Junction in a box for seventeen years, Sean hasn’t. He has told Beau, he has talked about it. It’s you who has been stuck.
“You dare speak of the ways when you -“
“Just go, now. Sean’s right,” you say firmly.
“Amicably, is that what he said?” Ethan asks, regarding you again with a scornful expression that turns your blood so cold, you’re amazed you’re not exhaling ice. “Amicably.”
“Ellie, all three of you, I am not playin’” you hear Joel say in a deadly tone.
The three teenagers make a move to leave, relief flooding your veins as you gratefully nod at Joel.
Gabriel is the last to leave, he hangs back until Joel nods at him firmly, but as he moves to the door - he’s almost gone, he’s almost safe - there’s a sound.
“Nope,” Ethan says coldly, “He stays.”
You look at Ethan, at the gun in his hand, pointed directly at you.
“Mum?” Gabriel asks, his voice shaky.
“I thought Eugene fucking searched the traders,” Joel yells at Tommy or Maria, or perhaps you or Beau. All you can see is the barrel.
You’ve always known how this is ends for you.
“You should leave now,” Joel says in a deadly tone. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Ethan. You spin around, meeting his gaze desperately.
His hand on Gabriel is firm enough to stop him from either fleeing or running towards Ethan. You notice the way his muscles are slightly tensed, not too tight, but you make out his vein snaking down his arm.
You’ve mentally prepared for a dozen reactions to what is going on around you: disgust, hatred, pity, but you didn’t expect what meets you. Joel’s face is steely, poised to fight but a flash of fear passes his eyes when you connect with them. He is afraid for you, he is worried. There is no hatred, no disgust, nothing you expected.
He is not asking for you to leave. He is trying to protect you.
It’s like a lead balloon in your stomach. Maybe, maybe you could have said something all this time ago.
“Trust me, she’s not worth it,” Ethan says conversationally. “This settlement, my son? Now those are different stories.
“Are there others here?” you ask suddenly as you piece more of the day together. You can barely recognise your flat voice, the way you’re not entirely in your own body any more. You’re existing, and now you know that because you’ve finally been living and now you know what that is, you’ll lose it all*. “Did they help you keep the gun?”* Someone could be here from the Junction and you need them gone too.
Ethan pivots, takes a couple of steps forward and turns around the room, observing the rapt, frozen crowd around you both. It transports you instantly to dusty rooms, to a younger, more vibrant man you thought wanted to do something good in the world. It takes you back to a place you wanted to belong in, to a time you believed and hung off every single word he said.
“Others?”
“Yes, are they already here?”
“Why would -”
“I know your plays, I know them all.”
“Do you?”
You stare blankly at him, raise an eyebrow slightly. “No. I thought I did, but I didn’t. I thought you were someone else.”
“I am the voice of -”
“You’re a tyrant, a hypocrite and a snake oil salesman all wrapped up. You don’t speak a word of truth and you never have.”
“I’m the vessel, and so is my -”
“If you speak about my son, I will rip you apart so violently it will make the infected look tame.”
“You didn’t have these teeth before. What a pity. It would have been useful.”
“Go.”
“We’re past that.”
You realise he’s right. He’s in Jackson now, this ends one of two ways. Tommy and Joel, they can’t let him leave like this. You can recognise the desperation in his eyes, the hunger, the plans and strategies.
“You’re my wife. I am not going without you and my son.”
“We’re staying here.”
“No. I’m not,” Gabriel says, “Not with her.”
“Gabriel, shut up,” Sean snaps uncharacteristically. “Just leave it now.”
“My son ”
“You want to talk about the Junction? Let’s talk about it then. Gabriel, did you want to grow up in a place that would kill you if you -” You zone out as Sean continues, unable to fully bear the full truth of life in the Junction being exposed to the people around you.
You remember being hungry so much, the fear of breaking a new rule or tenet that your husband came up with. You remember how the inclusive, welcoming commune it was supposed to be shifted. How it became radicalised, against any sign of difference or subversion of what Ethan thought a person should be like. You remember the sexism, the way your voice began to become quieter and quieter.
You remember that Ethan scared you, that his move to the Vessel was antithetical with everything you knew about him. How his words, his dreams became literal, how he looked like he hated you by the end. You remember the violence of the Junction, you remember the lack of excuses.
In some ways, in many ways, it was worse than Kansas.
“Did I physically harm you? Did I not lead you to salvation, to the tenets of hope?” Ethan asks, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“The tenets? The ones that started off just close enough to normal and then suddenly you decreed that women couldn’t wear trousers because it affected the crops, or that if I spoke unless spoken to it would damn me, or that declared you the sudden voice of hope, or a - they never held hope, your rules. Not for anyone but you. You were dangerous, you are dangerous. You harmed us all without laying a finger, that was the beauty of your plan, right?”
“You never said a word to stop me from this though, did you? In fact, you -”
“I’m not finished, Ethan. You’re not a good person, Ethan, and I will never regret keeping my son from your dangerous, frankly nonsensical shit. That’s being a parent. So tell us who’s inside, who’s helping you and maybe we can figure a way out for you to leave.”
“You and I know they won’t let that happen. Do you remember the plan for then?” He laughs then. “I’m leaving and i’m leaving with my son. He’s the future of the Junction.”
“There is no way in hell that will ever happen.”
“He wants to. I can see it in his eyes.”
“No, Ethan, you know how this is going to end.”
Ethan sighs and nods. You exhale shakily and then look up as you hear the sound of the gun load. “Then I’ll take you with me to the eternal life instead.”
You don’t shut your eyes. You don’t look down. You will not cower for him.
You wanted to live. You’ve had more years than you expected. You wish you had more. It was always going to end this way though.
He will have to look at you. You will not make this easy for him.
“No, Mum -” your son’s voice is enough to make you waver, but perhaps, perhaps everyone else can keep him safe. If Ethan kills you, maybe they’ll protect him. It’s fine.
It’s fitting.
It was always going to be this way.
You wish you were outside though. perhaps by your bench and that quiet sanctuary you found. You want to hear birdsong, feel the sun on your skin one last time. You want to breathe in the fresh air and remember that.
Maybe they can scatter your ashes on the bench.
The bench bought you so much - peace on nightmare ridden nights, Joel, the difference between surviving and living. If it wouldn’t make Ethan happy, you’d tell Gabriel that now, or Sean. It’s too much for Gabriel.
Perhaps Joel knows. You hope he does. You hope he doesn’t.
You’re sorry. So sorry these people you love have to see this, have to mourn you. You should tell Gabriel you love him one more time, but you don’t want to burden him.
There’s a sudden crash, you feel yourself hit the floor and you finally allow yourself to shut your eyes as the gun goes off.
You expect to feel pain, to feel warm or cold, or something. Instead there’s nothing.
There are hands around you, pulling you away, words - Joel? Is she hurt? Did it get her? Words fade in and out. Something’s gone wrong. This doesn’t feel like death.
You open your eyes.
Ethan is on the floor and unconscious. Joel is shaking his fist and Beau squeezes your shoulders before heading over to a shaken looking Sean. Next to him, your son stares at the floor.
“So yeah, we used to be in a cult,” Sean says, running a hand over his hair and shaking his head.
You hear an almost laugh, a polite but awkward acknowledgement, from maybe Tommy or Beau, but you’re still glued to the floor, still reeling from this day.
You feel eyes on you and look up to meet your son’s gaze. Gabriel looks at you as though he has never seen you before, through you in fact, and immediately runs out of the room.
“Wait, Gabriel.” You make a move to go after him, to explain. If you can just talk to him, then maybe it will be enough. You shouldn’t have avoided this, you should have told him this.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got him,” Sean says, moving quickly.
“Where do we put him?” you ask flatly, staring at the unconscious form in front of you.
“The jail,” Maria says quietly. “The jail, Joel.”
“Guess we’ll finally use it,” Tommy replies.
“He can’t stay,” Joel says. “Tommy, he’ll -”
“I know, brother, I know.” Tommy looks down and then at Maria whose lips are pursed.
“He tried us,” Maria says, “We have to do what we have to do.”
“I’ll handle it,” Joel says calmly, authoritatively. He isn’t looking at you and you feel ashamed of what you have bought into his life. Blood, anger, pain. He’s bought you peace and calm and love and this is how you repay him?
“Me too,” Beau replies calmly, examining his nails in a pseudo casual pose. “It won’t be a problem at all.”
The two of them each grab one of Ethan’s unconscious arms, dragging him outside and towards the bank. Beau nods at you on his exit.
They’ve left you. Sean and Gabriel are outside somewhere, Joel and Beau are gone and while Tommy and Maria are here, they are not your people.
You feel empty and numb. You brace the edge of the table and fight back the racking, great gasps of breath as shock courses through your body. You’ve been fighting tears, fighting back the fear and emotion of the past weeks.
It wasn’t just this moment, it wasn’t just today. It was the anticipation, the fear, the secrets that have lasted seventeen years.
“You need to let Gabriel, Sean and Beau stay,” you say, “I know you won’t want me here and I’ll go. I’ll go, but please let me see them from time to time. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry because I bought them here with my secrets and I’m sorry, Maria, please, please know that -” You cough, a sob Breaking through. “Please don’t make them leave too.”
“We’re not making you leave, we still want you here,” Maria says in a gentle voice. She’s looking at you in the same way as someone would a startled deer, trapped in the headlights. “We need to understand more - if you’re right, if there’s anyone here, what we need to worry about it, what this - this group could do. You can help though. And you’re not leaving. This is your home, you didn’t do anything -”
You feel warm, soft hands around you, hear soothing sounds as you finally allow yourself a moment to feel.
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l00rem · 2 months
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Imo, this is the most telling/concerning line of the explorers
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As we’ve seen, the environment of Explorers is incredibly toxic. 3/4 of the other admins have each insulted or taken shots at Amethio somehow. And it looks like this is nothing new, it’s horrible how Conia’s reaction to him being in a room alone with them is ‘oh god i hope he’s okay’. Amethio is a minor, he’s in a room full of people who seem to all be much older than him and ,in complete contrast to Liko’s situation, they all belittle him and insult him for every little mistake. It’s really upsetting how the only two people who have any sort of concern for him are his underlings- but Conia and Zir are absolutely powerless to really do anything about this. As much as they care about him, I don’t think Amethio would even be able to allow himself to be proper vulnerable around them. He’s already having to constantly prove himself, so how could he do something as unprofessional as spilling his worries to his underlings? It seems the only one he’s comfortable being open with is Ceruledge, but once again there is very little it can do to help him.
Then there’s Hamber. I’ve seen a few people give him the benefit of the doubt, especially because of episode 34 where it looks like he’s taken a shine to Amethio. But don’t let his fake concern fool you.
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All i see here is basic professionalism, like he’s reading what he has to say off a script. He doesn’t actually mean what he’s saying: we’ve seen how high the Explorers expectations are, I mean just look at how much Amethio is overexerting himself in the second op, surprise surprise Hamber is sitting back and merely watching despite his earlier comment of not straining yourself. Not to mention, the moment things start going well for Amethio, Hamber immediately undermines his agency by going with Sango and Onyx to sort things out personally. Like no wonder Amethio seems to be triggered by not being taken seriously when this is how his (employers? guardians? idk) treat him!
He’s also got soooo many red flags! The biggest being when Sango half-heartedly refuses orders, to which he responds:
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Literally physically intimidating her! And her reaction raises even more red flags, despite her happy demeanour the way she instantly complies is very telling that this isn’t the first time Hamber’s resorted to such threats… and this is the same environment a 16ish old is being raised in!
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Maybe it’s just the amount of pressure he was putting on himself, but look how stressed and low-key terrified Amethio looks when fighting Hamber!!
And even if we want to make the case that maybe Amethio is this special exception for Hamber and that he’s got a soft spot for him… he is ultimately still complicit in grooming Amethio into this shady organisation. Episode 34 even reveals that Hamber was the one who trained Amethio, which also fuels the idea that he might have been some random child they find and realised how easily they could manipulate him into becoming the perfect loyal admin. Well i personally subscribe to the Amethio is an orphan theory rather than Gibeons son, especially considering that comment about Gibeon ‘awakening’, Idk if Gibeon is even properly alive.
Btw if you’re interested in further exploration in what I’ve discussed in this post allow me to shamelessly plug my fic that finished recently. It delves into the shadiness of Explorers and how really fucked up Amethio’s situation is! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52757629
It’s kinda weird how we’ve gone from ‘haha look at team Rocket blast off again aren’t they so wacky?’ to literal child grooming. I’m all for the serious themes tho.
Tldr: Hamber deserves to be pushed down a flight of stairs, Amethio needs so much therapy.
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devilinthebox · 3 months
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"At Robb's side. Where he belonged." - About Theon and Grey Wind.
Or : RobbTheon thoughts that make me lose sleep #1 (there will be more)
In Dance, an extended metaphor ties Theon to dogs – specifically, Ramsay’s female dogs. It has been discussed some in many posts since the book's publication (we're all very old).
“A dog who turns against his master is fit for naught but skinning.” It’s stated plainly. To the Northern Lords, to all the nobility, to all the people who know of his fate, Theon is reduced to being one of Ramsay’s dogs. He is collared and chained in the kennels with the dogs Ramsay named after his female victims. Theon even comes to think that of himself: “lower than a dog”.
“Reek,” he said. “Your Reek.” “Do this little thing for me, and you can be my dog and eat meat every day,” Lord Ramsay promised. “You will be tempted and betray me. To run or fight or join our foes. No, quiet, I’ll not hear you deny it. Lie to me, and I’ll take your tongue. A man would turn against me (…) but we know what you are, don’t we?”
It is the paroxysm of the humiliation he suffers from the moment he has been taken from his home (although his brothers’ treatment of him could indicate he had been humiliated even before that) to his capture and subsequent torture and sexual abuse by Ramsay (for details read this as I wouldn’t have the courage and talent to write it – it’s remarkable). As Theon uses the Reek persona to avoid Ramsay’s wrath, as he becomes – by force – complicit in Ramsay’s crimes and subservient to the point of losing his sense of self, it makes sense to compare him to a dog who has been taught by his master not to bite and to serve him.
Yet, we know for a fact that it doesn’t last. We know that ultimately, by virtue of being in Winterfell, Theon finds himself again piece by piece, enough to save an innocent girl with no hope of survival. He was never truly Ramsay’s dog. That said, the comparison struck me as being reminiscent of Theon’s thematic tie to another wild animal: Grey Wind.
Dogs and Direwolves share common features, of course. And there can be a confusion between the two. Guess what, Robb himself, the Wolf King, is compared to a dog in Dance, to demean him.
“The Young Wolf? He was a vile dog and died like one.” (…) “A dog, aye. He brought us only grief and death. A vile dog indeed. Say on.”
Theon even draws the comparison himself between Grey Wind and Asha’s Black Wind – linking in his mind Stark and Greyjoy. Yes. It makes sense somewhat, since Theon is on his way to persuade his father to ally himself with the King in the North. He has his reasons to look for a link between Stark and Greyjoy.
“Theon did not need to be told that Black Wind was Asha’s longship (…) Odd that she would call it that, when Robb Stark had a wolf named Grey Wind. “Stark is grey and Greyjoy’s black,” he murmured, smiling, “but it seems we’re both windy.”
Strange as it may be, Theon shares common attitudes with Grey Wind during the beginning of the war (in Game, essentially).
One thing that always stood out to me is how demonstrative Theon is in his devotion to Robb’s cause (Theon Greyjoy put a hand on the hilt of his blade and said, “My lady, if it comes to that, my House owes yours a great debt.” -> What the hell? You’re a hostage?)
We know after reading Theon’s POV that it was indeed genuine, as it stemmed from a true desire to be part of House Stark. More than that, Theon, who needs to belong and feel useful more than anything else, took pride in fighting for Robb, to be at his side. Bran is jealous of both, because they get to fight at Robb’s side and be close to him (“I’d sooner be a wolf (…) I’d fight beside him like Grey Wind” // “Robb the Lord seemed to have more time for Hallis Mollen and Theon Greyjoy …”).
As he talks about his role in Robb’s war to his Ironborn family, he only ever mentions his friend, his ideals, their plan for the independence of the North and the Islands. Theon never fought for the Northern cause (why would he?), he fought for Robb, and proudly so. And he was adamant to demonstrate it in an aggressive way, almost like Grey Wind growling.
“Kneel before the king, Lannister! Theon Greyjoy shouted.”
“The wolves do not like your smell, Lannister,” Theon Greyjoy commented.”
“Kill him, Robb,” Theon Greyjoy urged. “Take his head off.”
“Lord Frey would be a fool to try and bar our way, Theon Greyjoy said with his customary easy confidence. ‘We have five times his numbers. You can take the Twins if you need to, Robb.”
Not to forget his eagerness to please, his way to show his devotion: “Ser Brynden has seen to it already, my lady,’ Theon replied with a cocky smile. ‘A few more blackbirds, and we should have enough to bake a pied. I’ll save you their feathers for a hat.” (Like a cat offering you dead birds as a gift…).
Also, Theon shared a true friendship and complicity with Robb. After Eddard is murdered in King’s Landing, Catelyn searches for Robb and finds he had been with Theon, probably to find comfort and support. He is, aside from Catelyn, his most trusted confidante.
“Robb glanced from her to Greyjoy, searching for an answer and finding none.”
We know Theon spoke of his uncle Euron with Robb, which doesn’t strike me as something he would confide to anyone else (Theon doesn’t seem to speak much of himself, all things considered, as he tries to keep a cool and detached façade). They also had “secrets” and laughed together (most notably at Roose Bolton’s expanse – karma is a bitch).
Robb sends Theon to treat with Balon Greyjoy’s against his beloved mother’s advice because he trusts him (and, in my humble opinion, wanted to show Theon he trusted him, that he was more than a hostage): “Theon’s fought bravely for us. I told you how he saved Bran from those wildlings in the wolfswood (…) he’s been a hostage half his life.’”
There is a childishness to them both. They are prone to boyish mockery. Robb acts the same, at the start of the war, with his direwolf. He seems amused to see Grey Wind scare people at first. That’s before Theon’s betrayal (I’ll get to this). And this behavior is that of Robb the boy, the 16-year-old boy, not Robb the King, who will be at odds with his direwolf and his best friend soon enough. He is most himself with Grey Wind, with Theon.
“You did well,” she told her son in the gallery that led from the rear of the hall, “though that business with the wolf was japery more befitting a boy than a king.”
Robb scratched Grey Wind behind the ear. “Did you see the look on his face, Mother?” he asked, smiling.”
“What I saw was Lord Karstark, walking out.”
“As did I.” Robb lifted off his crown with both hands and gave it to Olyvar. “Take this thing back to my bedchamber.”
Theon is tied to Robb as a person, as is his direwolf.
Before he has his own POV chapters, Theon’s appearances, like Grey Wind’s, are exclusively tied to Robb’s. In Game, they both barely exist outside of Robb’s sight which does not diminish their strong, memorable, somewhat troubling presence.
“They passed beneath the gatehouse, over the drawbridge (…) Summer and Grey Wind came loping beside them, sniffing at the wind. Close behind came Theon Greyjoy, with his longbow and a quiver of broadheads; he had a mind to take a deer, he had told them.”
“’(…) I would speak with my son alone. I know you will all forgive me, my lords.’ She gave them no choice (…) the bannermen bowed and took their leave. ‘And you, Theon’, she added when Greyjoy lingered. He smiled and left them.”
“Robb sat in the bow with Grey Wind, his hand resting on his direwolf’s head as the rowers pulled at their oars. Theon Greyjoy was with him.”
Grey Wind served in Robb’s war. He killed and would have died for him. Just as Theon did and felt such pride about, as we’ve seen. They are both considered outsiders, in a way: Grey Wind doesn’t belong a civilized world, he is regarded as a monster, a savage beast.
Theon is described in similar terms by the people of the North, as he is Ironborn. He must be “gentled”, a term you’d use for a wild animal (“Your father did what he did to gentle Theon, but I fear it was too little too late.”). His own father treats him as he were a tamed, obedient, animal (“The Stark have made your theirs”). Theon is prone to violence as a recourse (“A dead enemy is a thing of beauty”), has a wild, impulsive streak. Catelyn qualifies him as “impetuous” in her POV.
In Game, he is second after the direwolves to rescue Bran (and Robb himself!) from the wildings who threatens his life. As a terrified and emotional Robb fails to show him gratitude for his intervention (I wrote an entire piece about this scene if you’re interested), Theon feels as humiliated as his loyalty is not recognized by someone exterior could believe is his “master”. We know better, we know Robb and Theon were friends. That said, from an external point of view, Theon might have looked like a prisoner eager to please his jailer. Tyrion Lannister in the show-verse put it like this: “Your loyalty to your captors is touching.”  (And I insist, during their conversation, Theon says: “Robb is not my master.” It’s true! Yet, in the end, if everyone around him believed so, he may have started to doubt the sincerity of their bond, hence the desire to make a destiny for himself, far from Robb.)
At times, he seems as impulsive and ravenous as Grey Wind: “” Blood for blood”. For one, Greyjoy did not smile. His lean, dark face had a hungry look to it.”
“Theon Greyjoy sauntered closer. ‘Give her to the wolves’, he urged Robb.”
He can be ruthless – even cruel (I’m thinking of Beth Cassel) - in his pursuit of recognition from his “masters” (in this case, for his desperate quest for his father’s approval): “Once he had saved Bran’s life with an arrow. He hoped he would not need to take it with another, but if it came to that, he would.”)
In the same vein, Grey Wind is a formidable beast, and loyal, yet he is feared by all and loved only by Robb.
“Yet it was not the sword that made Ser Cleos Frey anxious; it was the beast.”
Contrast and compare with all those instances Theon made Catelyn or Bran uneasy with his rehearsed smile in Game; to his arc in Clash where Theon uses terror as a mean to an end, wanting love and respect and only inspiring contempt or fear (see: his last ACOK chapter, plenty of instances); to the unease he triggers as he has been turned to Ramsay’s thing in Dance.
Both belonged at Robb’s side. Theon realizes in Dance that he never should have left Robb’s side, as it was the closest to a home and true purpose he ever had in his life. As for Grey Wind, he is so important to Robb, such a part of his identity, that separating the two results in Robb’s demise. The Freys must cage Grey Wind to kill Robb.
Just as, indirectly, freeing Theon and creating a physical (and emotional) separation between them led to Robb’s death just as Grey Wind’s absence did.
“(…) And Grey Wind was at the king’s side once more. Where he belongs.”
“The wolf. The wolf is not here. Where is Grey Wind? She knew the direwolf had returned with Robb (…) he was not in the hall, not at her son’s side where he belonged.”
“Where was I? I should have been with him. I should have died with him.” The way it’s expressed reads as if Theon’s fate had been broken. As if the natural path would have been for Theon to be with Robb. If you want to see it, there is a mystical element to these bonds. Breaking them condemns Robb. Grey Wind, as all the direwolves, has magic (is magic?). Whereas Theon’s arc ties him the Gods – he has prophetic dreams, hears Bran through the Weirwood Tree in Dance, says with confidence “The gods are not done with me” and his very name derives from the Greek word for “Gods”.
After Theon’s departure and subsequent betrayal of Robb’s trust, Grey Wind is depicted as more agitated, unwilling to obey Robb’s orders. It can be explained by Robb’s torment (he becomes “somber”, depressed even, which is the trigger that leads him to Jeyne) and his growing distrust of his direwolf, who failed to warn him of Theon’s betrayal. And for a reason: Theon did not plan his change of heart; he was sincere in his devotion. Grey Wind must have sensed this, thus never expressed distrust towards Theon. The direwolves aren’t pets. They’re part of the Stark children. Robb is admonishing himself for having trusted Theon so deeply he failed to see his flaws (ambition, inconstancy, a deep-seated need to belong). It’s himself he starts to distrust.
The topic of Theon’s betrayal (which is best embodied by his supposed murder of Bran and Rickon) triggers Robb’s guilt and anger. Grey Wind becomes particularly aggressive.
“Jon would never harm a son of mine.” “No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?”Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer’s crypt, his teeth bared. Robb’s own face was cold.
As Robb becomes more irritated and has to control his temper, even with Jeyne. Here:
(I cannot help but notice the analogy between Grey Wind an “an arrow loosed from a longbow” here. Probably a coincidence – still!)
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His relationship with his direwolf is strained just as his relationship with his closest friend and advisor. Robb seems suddenly ill at ease with Grey Wind’s savagery although it has served him many times in battle. He did not seem to mind before. Just as he tolerated – even appreciated maybe – Theon’s somber side.
“As they started up the steps, Catelyn asked (…) ‘Robb, here is Grey Wind?’
“In the yard, with a haunch of mutton. I told the kennelmaster to see that he was fed.” (// I’m sorry but I can’t help but be reminded of Ramsay chaining Theon in the kennels and promising him food as a reward for his good behavior – as a twisted parallel).
“You always kept him with you before.”
“A hall is no place for a wolf. He gets restless, you’ve seen. Growling and snapping. I should never have taken him into battle with me (…) Jeyne’s anxious around him and he terrifies her mother.”
And there’s the heart of it, Catelyn thought. “He is part of you, Robb. To fear him is to fear you.”
“I am not a wolf, no matter what they call me.” Robb sounded cross. “Grey Wind killed a man at the Crag (…) If you had seen –“
Theon, in Clash, is haunted by the direwolves. He has dreams where Robb and the wolves come for him. He also demonstrates his intimate understanding of the direwolves, acquired at Robb’s and Grey Wind’s side as he realizes Bran and Rickon have escaped from Winterfell. Their direwolves kill some Ironborn guards in the process: Theon immediately understands how. He even mimics it, in a way:
“Urzen said : ‘If he had sounded his horn –“ I am served by fools. ‘Try and imagine it was you up there (…) it’s dark and cold. You have been walking sentry for hours (…) Then you hear a noise and move toward the gate, and suddenly you see eyes at the top of the sair, glowing green and gold in the torchlight. Two shadows come rushing toward you faster than you can believe. You catch a glimpse of teeth, start to level your spear, and they slam into you and open your belly (…) And now you’re down on your back, your guts are spilling out (…) Theon grabbed the scrawny man’s throat, tightened his fingers, and smiled. ‘Tell me, at what moment during all of this do you stop to blow your fucking horn?’ He shoved Urzen away roughly, sending him stumbling back against a merlon.”
(Underrated piece of ACOK!Theon in his glorious unstable self if you ask me.)
Theon and Grey Wind are both ultimately rejected by Robb, who feels he has no choice (not that it wasn’t deserved in Theon’s case, mind you). Yet, by doing so, Robb abandons a part of him. The most emotional part. Robb is deeply sensitive (it shows in many instances, as with his mother in Game: “Mother I need you too. I’m trying but I can’t do it all by myself’ His voice broke with sudden emotion” or “He looked at her, his eyes shining, the proud young lord melted away in an instant (…)”) and could act like it with his most trusted companions.
Theon has a special bond with Robb. His betrayal is personal, and it is seen that way by the Robb’s bannermen. How fitting is Benfred Tallheart’s threat, in this regard:
“Theon wiped the spittle off his cheek with the back of his hand. “Robb will gut you, Greyjoy (…) He’ll feed your turncloak’s heart to his wolf (…)”
Of course, it has to be Grey Wind. And it has to be his heart.
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mimymomo · 4 months
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It’s truly astounding how the people belittling Fearne’s feelings and growth the most are Fearne fans themselves.
Fearne/Ashley made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want the shard. She stated that it multiple times and went even further to explain that it scared her and TOLD ASHTON that she believed they should take it. They willingly went along with Ashton’s plan because she believed it was the right thing to do but as time went on, she grew more and more concerned but still believed in Ashton who kept telling her it it would be okay, downplayed the consequences (saying his death would be a funny story to tell and that’s all as if them dying wouldn’t be horrible and affect Fearne/the others because they genuinely can’t believe that his life is worth that pain) and said that she promised him.
Fearne said multiple times that Ashton didn’t manipulate her. Ashton wasn’t hiding their intentions from her — he told her the plan, they knew (some of) the risks and Feand said she went aligns to hit because she thought it was the right move. You’d think Ashton had a gun to her head by the way the fandom is talking about the whole thing!
Yes Ashton was pushing and they never should have kept Fearne from telling the group the truth but she made her choice and it was a bad one out of love and care (and no Ashton did not manipulate her feelings/attraction to them to convince her: Ashton did not and still does not know the full extent of what Fearne felt folds them and when he kissed her, she had already agreed to the ritual and the kiss only made her really second guess).
Now am I saying that she’s equally culpable as Ashton? NO!
Am I saying she owes Ashton an apology? GOD NO! And thank god Ashton told her she didn’t owe them anything, he put her in such a bad situation and that was 95% on them. THEY FUCKED UP BAD AND DESERVED ALL THE TONGUE LASHINGS THEY GOT!
But the way the fandom presents the issue is as if Ashton was this maniacal, evil manipulator who preyed on Fearne solely because she was too good to say no instead of viewing the whole situation as it really is: a man who is fucked up asking someone they trust to join in on their stupidity without fully realizing how much danger, trauma and suffering he is going to put her through.
We can acknowledge that Fearne made a mistake by being complicit and used Ashton plans with the shard to justify (run from) her not having to take it due to her own personal beliefs and fears and use that acknowledgment to further show her growth as a person who will never let herself get thrusted back into that position again. That she can’t blindly trust and follow someone’s self destructive path if it’s gonna lead to her being hurt. This is a good thing! Let Fearne learn and grow from this! That’s what the whole Chetney discussion is about: no one’s blaming her, Ashley’s not dodging anything or protecting Taliesin/Ashton — this is Fearne being honest, taking agency, calling out her actions and growing.
Fearne messed up and was complicit in going along with the plan AND she has every right to be upset with Ashton for what they did and she deserved her apology are two statements that can (and should) coexist!
I’m so tired of people vilifying Ashton and making him come off as this terrible and evil individual when that’s not what this was. They aren’t. And then saying that he was throwing a pity party when in reality they’re coming to the realization that his behavior is his own fault and they can’t keep running and blaming others for the actions he takes and then apologizing and taking responsibility and ownership for what happened and saying they want to be better in the future.
The same fandom that worships the ground Percy steps on despite all the bs he put VM through, actually tried to argue that Essek — a character who do to his own hubris stole a priceless and ancient artifact that was essential to his country’s religious identity and nearly started a whole ass war — wasn’t a war criminal because the Geneva Conventions didn’t exist in Exandria (yes this actually happened to me at one point), seems to be unable to handle Ashton without any sort of empathy or understanding. A character who has been mentioned to be broken (physically mentally and emotionally) with crippling self worth issues who needs to be better in not only how they show they care, but in loving and caring for himself.
These past 2 episodes were so good but gosh some do the reactions have been aggravating
(Maybe I would accept people saying Ashton was manipulative more if they weren’t demonizing him in the same breath and acting as if they’re only only questionable bad egg in Bells Hells…)
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singingcicadas · 5 months
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You are SO right about the Death of Optimus Prime.
It feels so one-sided which wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing if it wasn’t clear the narrative is pressing that the Autobots are just as bad as the Decepticons by literally refusing to have anyone but Prowl argue against what the Decepticons have done versus the Autobots and treating him like he’s being ridiculous even by his comrades! When the NAILs come back it’s not just that they’re tired of war and just want peace they seem to have no concept of anything about Autobots or Decepticons except that they’re both Bad but somehow Autobots are worse?
And seemingly no one points out anything the Decepticons did like blowing up one of the last energon mining facilities but that’s just frankly ridiculous because by all accounts the NAILs would all *have* to be from before the war and somehow they’re the only group who doesn’t remember what it was like before they left? Later we find out Soundwave was apart of pogroms specifically against Neutrals, Decepticons put Autobots heads in bombs to make them beg for their life by bomb disposal and had at least one facility dedicated to smelting Autobots alive and none of the Autobots seem to disagree with NAILS opinions on them? It just reeks of trying so hard to press “they’re both equally as bad.”
The whole Starscream as ruler too honestly conceptually I like, that he manipulated his way through shaky political ground and underhanded tactics and continued those away from public eye once he was in position in a tense post war society that doesn’t have any real system of government and would crumble if they tried to overthrow Starscream, but the idea that somehow no one could manage to point out that Starscream was second in command and complicit to all of Megatron’s crimes from the very beginning and that all the NAILs were totally cool with voting for him in power without any real discussion of that the first time he won felt so farfetched.
Honestly all of it could work, condescending NAILs, Optimus being forced to leave, Starscream becoming ruler of Cybertron could all genuinely work if they actually bothered making the arguments feel balanced because it relies way too hard on everyone just agreeing the Autobots are basically just as bad as the Decepticons and don’t have room to argue because War Is Bad.
THIS. Anon said everything I wanted to say except in a clearer conciser way. The whole premise of “Autobots are just as bad” is something I never understood, both from character perspective and as a reader. What exactly did the Autobots do to merit this sentiment? Like we all know there’s Prowl and the Wreckers, okay. Mostly Prowl. But the neutrals don’t know about what he did. Even the Autobots themselves don’t know! Whereas the Decepticons have this looooong list of insane evil shit they take pride in (including burning the entire planet and halving its population), were committing terrorism acts against the general populace before the war, and have specifically implemented anti-neutral pogroms during its course. How. do the Autobots compare. A hell lot more of “show, don’t tell” is needed rather than just having every non-Autobot transformer repeat it as an irrefutable mantra. And the Autobots just accepting it without even making an attempt to defend their position. 
Like if the ‘Autobots just as bad’ statement was true, they wouldn’t even have been in such a difficult position in the first place, outnumbered and stuck between the NAILs and Decepticons. They could just detonate all the Decepticon inhibitor chips and shoot/banish every NAIL who doesn’t accept their authority. This is our home that we won back, we’re ruling it, and that’s that. That’s what the Decepticons would have done. That’s what the old government would have done. It’s as if the reason the NAILs were causing so much trouble was because they were perfectly aware of this difference; they knew the Autobots were restricted by their principles, so they were bold with their protests/lynching. Which again rubs me the wrong way because it implies that morality is a weakness to be taken advantage of that lets people walk all over you without fear of consequences. 
Same goes with treatment of Optimus in DoOP and the Optimus Prime series honestly, the narrative is blatantly unfair. Characters keep shitting on him and doubting him and accusing him of being a tyrant when it’s repeatedly shown that none of his actions are ever self-serving. Like haven’t you all met multiple actual tyrants. Would they ever tolerate you guys. They make accusations because they know Optimus is a decent person who cares about the opinions of the people and the morality of his actions. Decency is never not taken advantage of. 
To the colonists, the sins of the past primes are somehow All His Fault. To the humans, the atrocities of the Decepticons are also somehow All His Fault. Whenever he does anything, there’s always someone there to accuse him, regardless of the fact that his actions almost always turn out to be right and extremely foresighted. But he gets. no chance to explain himself. When he presents the matrix as a divine artefact (which it culturally is) someone goes: primes are evil I don’t believe in them. When he admits that he privately thinks the matrix is just a bauble and himself as just an ordinary person, the same person goes: how dare you not believe, gimme the matrix I can do better. He can say something as innocuous as “we should focus on dealing with Unicron rn” and there’s literally a colonist who goes “bringing people together because of a shared enemy is literally Fascism.” Seriously. The narrative is that skewed. Selflessness and trying to do the right thing despite being misunderstood by others are all well and good, but when the ‘misunderstanding’ becomes increasingly contrived to the point where the one person is constantly getting pilloried for no sound reason, then it just makes both sides look stupid. 
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gingerwritess · 2 years
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"I'm gonna burn this place to the ground." idk about you but to me that sounds like a good prompt for pre-dating idiots 👀
lol remember when the first trailer came out and we collectively lost our shit when loki said this?? aw. simpler times :’)
consider this the next part of pre-dating idiots!! woo!! pls be nice to me it’s been years
warnings: ooc?? I haven’t written for him in two (?) years?? injuries, pain, angst, the usual.
They’re both victims of the same incompetence, in all honesty.
A father who lied to them both, and a mother...
She was complicit.
Thor hates admitting it. Loki can’t decide if it makes things better or worse.
Thor needs to go see him. He knows it’s what needs to be done, and will have to happen eventually, but every time he approaches room 203, he just keeps walking and promises to do it tomorrow.
They have...too much to discuss. It’s intimidating.
Thor finds it too easy to use Loki’s necessary healing as an excuse not to disturb him.
You’re the one who finally make him do it, open the door and actually talk to him.
You’re on a business trip—managing some project on international relations following the attack on New York, from what he gathers—and won’t be back for about a month.
“Don’t let him ruin his progress,” you told him the day you left. “Please.”
At that, Thor dredged up enough conscience to feel bad for letting you think he’s been visiting Loki every other day.
You’re proud of him. It’s a good feeling.
He doesn’t want to lose it.
So he smiled and promised to keep his brother company, keep him smiling and healing and that he’ll be in even better shape when you return.
You’ll be back in a week and a half now, and he has yet to cross the threshold.
It’s only after Cap, Tony, and the others come to a decision with the local authorities and task him with breaking the news to Loki that he finally goes to him.
Even still, he doesn’t know where to start.
Loki is on his stomach when Thor walks in, still bedridden and bleeding with exhaustion in his gaunt eyes when he meets his gaze from the doorway.
“Come to gloat?”
His voice is hoarse—missing the tease, the careless grin and sly plot that used to tinge his words. It makes Thor bare his teeth in a slight grimace, wanting to be angry with him, fingers curled tight around the handle of mjolnir.
“I’ve come to...talk.” He clears his throat and takes the first shaky step towards the hospital bed. “We have much to discuss.”
“Well, consider me intrigued.” Loki’s lips curl into a cruel smirk, even smushed into his pillow. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”
“Stop that,” Thor snarls, taking a few more sudden steps towards him. “Now isn’t the time for–for...for you.”
“Ah. In that case, please, pull up a chair.”
He does, glancing around the room. It’s drab, with just one window and a hint of sunlight peeking through the closed blinds. An untouched tray of food sits on the bedside table.
They sit there in silence for too long before Thor speaks.
“You’re a frost giant.”
Loki just gives a hollow laugh. “That’s where you’d like to begin?”
“He lied to me, too,” Thor says. “I thought you were my—I thought you were Asgardian. My whole life.”
“That must have been difficult for you.”
“I—I knew you were different,” he pushes on, electing to ignore that jab, “I could see that, but you...”
“You trusted Odin completely, didn’t you?”
Thor nods slowly. “He’s my father. I...still do.”
At that, his brother turns his head to stare at the wall instead of him. He cut his hair. It’s choppy against his neck—Loki couldn’t have done it himself, not with his shoulder in that state and still in a sling.
“Odin,” comes Loki’s hiss, “raised us to hunt frost giants.”
Thor straightens in his seat, frowning at the back of his brothers head. “He raised us to be warriors, wary of likely enemies.”
“He raised us to kill. He gave you the power to destroy their entire realm.” His head flips over on the pillow to reveal painfully bloodshot eyes, and he shoves a finger at the hammer in Thor’s hands. “Don’t tell me that was benevolence. He took their lifeforce, held a threat over their heads, and called it peace.”
Swallowing thickly, Thor’s gaze drops to the hammer. His next words are out before he can think better of them.
“And yet I wasn’t the one who tried to destroy their realm.”
Loki falls silent again, gaze burning into Thor’s, glistening, his jaw clenched tight. A vein near his temple bulges, and Thor wishes he could take it back. Wishes Loki hadn’t begged him to fight him, hadn’t let go all those months ago.
“Leave,” Loki chokes.
Thor clears his throat. “I came to tell you that the council has come to a decision on your sentence.”
“Leave,” Loki just says again, gathering the sheets in a shaking fist. “Get out.”
“Stark and the Captain spoke with Midgardian authorities, and they decided you must serve a sentence here before being turned over to Asgard.”
“Just passing me around, are you—”
“You broke the law,” Thor grits out, rising to his feet. “You killed people, you destroyed buildings, you tried to destroy an entire realm—”
“And I killed my true father,” Loki hisses, trying to push himself up on the hospital bed. “I abducted Clint Barton and made him kill for me. I let Jotuns into our palace on your coronation day, knowing they craved blood. I lied to Frigga, I stole the throne, I committed treason, I—”
“Then you see what must be done,” Thor cries, flinging a hand towards him. “You know you’re unstable, you need—you need help!”
“I wake up every single day,” he spits, heaving himself into a sitting position, “disappointed that I’m still breathing. I’ve tried to end it, I’ve tried it myself, I’ve even brought that–that mortal into it, and she couldn’t even kill me.”
“Oh, that’s an entirely different discussion—”
“So what is it?” Hunched forward with his arms hugging his knees, Loki stares at him. Those eyes are empty—Thor hoped to at least see pain in them. “What is my punishment? Am I to be executed, or are we saving that special event for Odin and Frigga?”
“Don’t,” Thor growls. His fist tightens around mjolnir. “They still protected you and raised you as their own. You owe them that much.”
Loki gives a hollow, rattling laugh. “Odin raised me like a prize boar for slaughter. He told me. He wanted to use me to unite our realms. I’m no better than the last empty treaty he wrote.”
“He spoke of us as equals,” Thor quietly argues. “Weren’t you happy? As a child? We...we had fun. I know we did.”
Loki swallows thickly, casting his gaze towards the ceiling.
I know we did. The two of them were inseparable, through every phase of their life. Thor’s friends were Loki’s, and the merry little group had centuries of adventures, victories, parties they shared with him. Frigga and Odin had loved the two of them as their sons, as their sons equally. He knows it.
“Can you even fathom your reality being a lie?”
Thor blinks, wishing Loki would look at him.
“No,” Loki laughs softly, “you can’t.”
Thor stands abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process. “You’ll lead a life of misery and disappointment,” he says, “if you keep thinking the worst of everyone. Especially yourself.”
Loki laughs again—it’s missing all humor. “Oh, fuck off.”
“Fine.” Thor stiffens, his jaw clenched painfully. “On behalf of Midgardian officials, you are sentenced to five years imprisonment and full responsibility for damages caused by your insurrection. After those years, you will return to Asgard with me for your trial.”
“Lovely. Looking forward to it.”
That’s the final straw—that, and how Loki closes his eyes and relaxes back onto his pillow, seemingly unbothered.
Thor surges forward with a snarl and grabs Loki by the shoulders, shoving him back against the pillows.
“You could at least pretend to regret this,” he seethes, giving his brother a good shake. “If you even gave our father half of an apology, an explanation, we could move past this.”
Eyes wide but jaw firmly set, Loki struggles against him, trying to wrench his injured arm from Thor’s grip. “Oh, please,” he grunts, “it’s been nearly a year since I came back from the dead. Neither of my so-called parents have expressed the slightest interest in seeing me.”
Thor’s grip tightens—Loki grits his teeth, biting back a whimper of pain as his fingertips dig into a barely scabbed wound.
“I wanted to apologize to you,” Thor admits, his chest heaving with the effort of holding Loki pinned. “But I don’t know if you even want that. Or deserve it.”
“Let go of me.”
He doesn’t.
Still writhing, Loki’s lips curl back, and he throws his head forward, bracing for the inevitable pain. His forehead hits Thor’s chin with a loud crack, and Thor staggers back with a shout—Loki’s not in much better shape, blinking rapidly to clear the spots that blur his vision.
“Five years,” Loki hisses, “is nothing to you and I.”
“Your true punishment will be from Asgard,” Thor replies harshly, a hand to his jaw as he stumbles towards the door. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
“Well, when we go home,” Loki spits, his hands shaking, “Maybe I’ll burn that place to the ground.”
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longclawshilt · 8 months
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Me seeing the ask game: *cracks knuckles* Let's go.
I hope you don't mind answering all of these 😅.
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Have a nice day!
I won’t answer all of them haha. I had no time to write that much plus I wanted to actually give hOt TaKeS.
8 common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about
I’ll start of by saying that I’m not one who wants to police other people’s interpretations of the text. BUT I will say this: Jon is not a below average swordsman! He’s not even average. He may not have many on page feats, but he’s only been in less than a handful of serious fights and they were against middle aged men with decades of experience over him. People like to bring up his loss to Mance, but this fight was against a man who managed to unite the wildling tribes under his rule; Mance is a highly skilled warrior.
Remember, Jon is 15-16 years old when most of these fights are happening. So he’s still young and growing. People will also say “oh, but Jaime Lannister was a god at that age”. Honestly, who cares? How many characters are comparable to Jaime at any age? It’s such a dumb comparison. I’ve even seen people argue that a 13 year old Peck is better than Jon and huh? Jon hasn’t won over any knights….because he’s not encountering them in the first place.
It’s clear that GRRM holds Jon’s skill in high regard. I mean the first Jon POV chapter established him as a noted swordsman. It also clear that Jon isn’t meant to be the warrior type. He’s a deconstruction of the archetypal fantasy protagonist. GRRM has chosen to build his political skills, so he’s not putting much of a focus on how well he swings his sword. That doesn’t mean though that he doesn’t have any skill at all. Just that it’s not the main focus of his character. But I think this fandom generally has the most wretched discourse when it comes to this stuff. Like people on Reddit this past week tried to argue that Brienne is overrated…Brienne, of all people. It’s just insane to me that people think they know more than the guy who wrote the damn books.
13 worst blorboficiation
Has got to be Kevan Lannister. Not so much on tumblr, but it’s a disease in some of the other communities. For whatever reason, he’s quite beloved. And this is rather strange because he is very much complicit in the corrupt Lannister regime. And as far as we know, he’s also fully supported Tywin in everything (which includes legitimate war crimes). He has his moments where he is shown to actually care for family members (e.g., Lancel, Tyrion), and that makes him a delightfully complex character. He’s also really funny. But we shouldn’t ignore his really bad traits. I’ve had to suffer a bunch of “Kevan Lannister is the best guy ever” posts on Reddit, and it’s absolutely maddening. That’s not to say that we can’t like “bad” people! Heck, Cersei is one of my faves. But it’s weird how certain characters get a pass for doing problematic things (e.g., Kevan or even Bobby B), and other characters get lambasted for the most tame things imaginable. It’s just the hypocrisy that’s annoying.
16 you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)
Powerscaling lol. It can be fun, but the people who engage in these discussions can be so tedious and boring. Tiktok and Reddit are full of this. “Who is the greatest fighter”, “who is the best warrior”, “this is why prime Robert low diffs Barristan Selmy”, and it’s the same old arguments every time. I think we should get more creative with powerscaling if we have to do it. Like “who has the best 🛌 skills”. Let’s at least argue over something fun, damn.
22 your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
This is going to be twofold:
- On tumblr? Easily Jon’s relationship with magic. In fact, people on here will go out of their way to argue that it’s actually not important to the plot, which is absolutely bonkers. Beyond warging, there’s a lot of weird magical stuff going on with Jon that should be put under the microscope. And I’d even argue that Jon’s a pretty special warg and cannot be compared to the other Stark kids (even Bran) because of how his powers manifest. Ghost is also obviously one of the most special animal familiars in the series (maybe even THE most special one), but no one ever talks about how special he is. A lot of people seem to believe that Jon will be KiTN, but it’s insane how we don’t talk about why it’s magically important for him to rule the North, considering his deep connections to Northern mysticism, religion, and lore.
- Elsewhere: the parallels between Jon and Bran. They’re essentially the same character base split into two (Seoman Snowlack, Frodo, King Arthur, Paul and Leto Atreides, Odin, etc). Both arcs parallel each other and are heading to the same destination, but the details will be different. This is getting to my last point, but I firmly believe we’re getting an ending with both King Jon and King Bran. I like to think of them as two competing but complementary sides of King Arthur’s tale. Jon is the one that is true to legend, as he follows the archetypal hidden prince-to-king trope. Jon is essentially “what if Arthur actually went on his hero’s/knightly quest?”Bran is the subverted one, where young Arthur gets a little detour; so “what if Arthur didn’t go on the hero’s/knightly quest but instead had to take up a job as a part time wizard?” Both will end up kings, just as Arthur did, but it will be different versions of the legend.
- Also: WTF is up with the Watch/Wall? What magic was used to build the Wall and who built it? Why can’t dragons cross? And why can’t wights cross either? What magic dictates that? What’s up with the Nightfort? Why does one only need to say part of the vows to open the gate? And what’s up with the NW vows? Why do they give Lightbringer vibes?! Is the NW Lightbringer? The NW is directly credited with the ending of the Long Night so was the last hero a member of the original group? Who was he? What happened to him after? If the last hero inspired AA then did the NW (and their vows) inspire tales of his flaming sword? And why did the relationship between the Watch and the CoF fizzle out? When did it fizzle out? And who are the LCs whose tenures have not been recorded? Why did they only start recording in the 600s (iirc)? What other history has been lost over time? Who was the Night King? Where did his half-human children go? Need that old man to answer these stat
25 common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing
Several people will block me for this…but King Bran. Look, I get that Bran isn’t the most popular character out there. But so many people convinced themselves that he would die in that cave or he would amount to nothing which is very, very strange. And it also doesn’t help that a lot of the complaints reek of ableism.
GRRM obviously considers Bran to be central to this series. He is the first viewpoint character (and potentially the last one). He is the most magical character in the story. The scene that birthed ASOIAF came about because of Bran. It’s also said that GRRM considered writing the books through Bran’s POV but decided against it pretty quickly.
Anyone who paid attention to Bran’s story would know that we’re going to get some huge payoff to his story. In fact, I think it’s safer to assume that kingship has always been in the cards for him. I think most of us Bran stans thought he’d be KiTN (actually some of us over at Westeros.org thought he’d end up as the final Lord of Harrenhal). I never once considered King of all Westeros but I’ve had time to think about it ever since the show ended and I’m like, “duh!”. It’s thematically relevant and sound for Bran to end up king. We’re about to enter into a winter apocalypse but Bran’s direwolf is called Summer. Not only is he the representation of summer (which means renewal, rejuvenation, etc.), but he’s also fashioned after the Fisher King. He is also the second coming of Brandon the Builder - who constructed castles all over Westeros, not just the North; and if legends are true, this happened after the Long Night. He’s following after the footsteps of the Last Hero, and is the only other character apart from Jon who is actually fighting in the front lines against the Others. He’s going to be super important!
I can understand some of the questions people having regarding King Bran, mainly those of a political nature. But we’re left with two books. And two books is plenty to move the necessary pieces for Bran’s crowning. Hell, did people expect that Dany would be Queen of Meereen as they started reading ASOS? Most didn’t. A lot can happen in two books. A lot can happen in a singular book. GRRM has enough time to set up a scenario on which Bran is the only one left to rule.
I personally think that the apocalypse will essentially destroy Westeros as we know it, leading to the creation of a new kingdom(s). D&D botched the GoT ending so people have a hard time seeing the thematic weight of a boy who represents summer rising to kingship, but the books lay enough groundwork imo. And I think ACOK shows us that Bran, despite his age, would make a wise ruler. So I’m all for King Bran. Not only is it thematically sound, but I love the idea of a disabled kid rising to power at the end since we don’t see that in a lot of fantasy.
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peleda-dainius · 15 days
Text
I've been mulling something over and I feel like sharing it, so here we go. Heads up: It's going to be long and it's going to involve the movie Poor Things, and there will be some discussion of sexual assault later on.
The phrase "art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable" gets tossed around a lot online from what I've seen. However, it seems that this has become shorthand for "if something makes you feel disturbed or disgusted, it must be good art". This has become a linchpin in pretty much every argument I've seen about how to interpret Poor Things.
I take issue with this. Yes, an artist can use their medium to illicit a feeling of disgust or disturbance in their audience to get a point across about the scenario they're presenting. Making someone complicit in the disgust of a disgusting situation that they otherwise may never experience or think about in their lives can be a very powerful way to communicate with an audience. It can also be a powerful way to reframe situations that the audience might not have previously been bothered by because they never saw a reason to be. However, not all disturbing media is inherently deep or meaningful just because because it invokes "negative" feelings.
It seems like people are forgetting that things like erotica/pornography and slasher films exist. I know some will bristle at the notion of including literal porn in this conversation, but bear with me. Sometimes the purpose of "gross" media is literally to experience and engage with a feeling, not go spelunking into social philosophy. Many people enjoy slasher films because they enjoy the rush of disgust and shock. It can be fun if you're the kind of person who enjoys that. Same thing with erotica and porn. Many people enjoy that because at the time they're viewing it they want to engage with feelings of arousal, romance, and/or intrigue. These are also completely valid reasons to consume media. There's nothing wrong with it. But the fact that you feel a feeling doesn't actually mean that some deep philosophical lesson has been imparted. Sometimes feelings are just feelings.
In my personal opinion, the "disturbing" content in Poor Things was gratuitous and ineffective. Using the initial premise of a baby's brain inside an adult woman's body and then having nearly all of the resulting person's entire character arc revolve around some bizarre interpretation of sexual liberation was tactless and out of touch. I have seen some people try to justify that this was actually the point of the movie: the way that a morally deranged and misogynistic society sexualizes immature young women and girls, or the way that women in general are infantilized and their struggle to gain sexual agency. However, I personally do not think that this was effectively conveyed if that was the goal. I also do not think that was the goal.
Lead actress Emma Stone describes the movie as a "romantic comedy". When asked about the sexual nature of the character she plays, Stone says:
"Because she’s so free, because she lacks that shame about anything—eating, drinking, the way she’s taking in the world, her relationships to other people, her environment, sexuality—for me it was a really freeing experience. As a woman in the world as we know it, and as an American woman also, it was a really freeing thing to think if I didn’t have judgment around my body or around my sexuality. That’s one of the reasons why I love the way that this is shot and that the story is told, because the camera’s also not saying, Oh, well, now we should look away because we know in our society that this is something that shouldn't be seen. None of this would be embarrassing to her or something that she would think was shameful in any way."
In another interview, the director himself describes his work like this:
“Shame is one thing that we are conditioned to feel in certain situations and Emma’s character doesn’t have that. She never got to know what shame is, so she is totally free to give her mind, her thoughts, her opinions, her body, whatever.” He goes on to describe the story being about, "a human being that has a second chance in the world, someone who hasn’t been moulded in a very specific manner to perceive the world in a certain way. She gets to start clean, and that gives her a far freer view of things. She’s a 28-year-old woman who, up until then, had lived a life that obviously didn’t satisfy her. And she comes back with a blank slate, able to start again, and to own that life.”
Unless the cast and crew are lying as part of some elaborate performance art piece on the acceptability of sexualizing children in society and media, it seems like maybe their message was more about the impact of socialization and the way it controls us and restricts our behavior. That isn't to say that seeing a criticism of misogyny, sexualizing children, and the infantilisation of women isn't a valid personal interpretation. You are not required to take the creator's intent into account when interpreting media for yourself and deciding what it means to you individually. However, that is only one approach to analyzing media and calling those who do factor in the creator's intent when assessing their work "media illiterate" is... Not It™. Yes, art is meaningful to individuals in different ways and each person will approach a piece of art with their own unique blend of personal experiences and opinions that will make it more or less meaningful to them regardless of what the creator's intended. But art is also a communication, not least of which between the artist and the audience, and not every attempt at communication is effective. Sometimes it is downright blundering.
I could go on for hours about the eroticism of childishness in Poor Things. Even more telling perhaps, I could go on for days about the public response to the eroticism of childishness in Poor Things, especially the droves of fans chomping at the bit to declare the film a satirical masterpiece on that very topic. Unfortunately, however, it seems to me that any commentary on the subject of sexualizing children was unintentional. I choose to read a hopeful message into this situation by imagining that those who see this commentary as the point of the film saw the uncomfortably obtuse pedophilic overtones in the premise and could not imagine that the creators did not realize it was there. The subsequent search for meaning resulted in this "criticism of toxic and pedophilic misogyny" interpretation rather than the less pleasant alternatives: either that the sexualization of the child was simply a throwaway plot element, or worse, that the creators simply do not see a problem with sexualizing children and/or children's behavior. For the sake of being charitable, I posit the former: that the sexualization of childishness in Poor Things was at least partially the unintentional result of a badly handled plot point. I believe this because any time I see it brought up to anyone who worked on the movie, the conversation is immediately pivoted to how free and uninhibited Bella is. The fact that she's a child in an adult woman's body is glazed over almost entirely. When it is discussed, as in the quote above by the director, it seems that it was merely the mechanism by which they obtained an adult woman with a "clean slate", socially and mentally speaking, which was the perspective they wanted to use to examine how socialization impacts the way that humans interact with the world and with each other. In particular, the director seems to take the position that socialization is largely oppressive, especially to women's sexual agency.
The topic of the potentially oppressive nature of socialization is too big for me to handle here. I will say that I don't entirely disagree with the director, but that it is an incredibly complex subject that isn't easy to wrangle. The question of whether or not Poor Things sends an effective message about women's sexual liberation in relation to socialization is a bit more straightforward to me: I think it failed.
We live in a society that heavily restricts women's sexuality, that's true. The knee-jerk reaction to this is to imagine that a sexually liberated society would allow women to have as much sex as they want without shame or stigma. In theory, I agree. However, the film seems to take the position that without the oppression of society, nobody would ever turn down sex and that is where I have to disagree. Foundational to women's sexual liberation is the ability to say yes or no to sex and have that choice be respected. Yet at no time do we see Bella Baxter turn down sex. We see her spit out food that she doesn't like mid-chew. We see her end a relationship with a man that she's grown bored of (and their sexual relationship ends by default). But we never see her call off a sexual encounter because she isn't enjoying it the same way she calls off the other unpleasant experiences that she is shown engaging with on screen. In fact, when she does start having less enjoyable sexual experiences with men that she's uninterested in, she starts contriving ways to make unenjoyable sex more enjoyable rather than leaving and finding something more fulfilling to do or even just someone more pleasant to have sex with.
Perhaps that was also an unintentional oversight in her character development or perhaps it was a fully intentional comment on seeing the positive in situations rather than focusing on the negative. Even so, I find the "sex is like pizza: even when it's bad, it's still good" perspective to be far from feminist or empowering. In fact, it echoes the juvenile and misogynistic claims of rape deniers who say that it's better to just lay back and enjoy sex even if it wasn't what you wanted. The further implication of this being that sexual trauma is your choice because you could just choose to enjoy it instead. Additionally, claiming that the only reason a woman would choose not to enjoy sex is because of socially imposed shame is insultingly simplistic. At the very least, it's an insult to survivors of marital rape who were forced to have sex under otherwise socially acceptable circumstances that do not engender shame by default. Our bodies are part of who we are as a whole; they are ours and they are us. It's the part that we use to physically interact with the world and the people around us. Having our bodies used by someone else against our will is always harmful to some degree.
My takeaway is that Poor Things was a visually intoxicating crime of passion that fools its audience into thinking it's more profound than it actually is with clever camera work and an overabundance of shock value. It fails to convey what seems like the obvious message because the obvious message is an accident. Then it continues to fail at conveying its intended message because it treats its own themes so superficially that despite giving itself more than enough time to delve deeply into its subject matter, Poor Things spends an unnecessary amount of screentime treading the same ground and making no real progress. Events that should be more meaningful to her character development like being exposed to suffering and slavery end up having a negligible impact on the story. Instead the audience is just subjected to a gratuitous number of awkward sex scenes that claim to explore themes of self-discovery and sexual liberation but which manage to say nothing significant on either topic (at least not significant enough to justify the two and a half hour runtime).
Poor Things almost completely neglects to include any element of this in it's discussion of sexual liberation. The closest thing we get is at the end of the movie where Bella's father/husband (who still exclusively sees her as his wife even after the situation is explained) threatens to have her clitoris removed to "cure her" of her extensive sexual desires so that she can be an obedient wife and bear his children. But the threat is never truly imminent and Bella is quickly able to dispatch her father/husband, swap his brain with a goat, and live happily ever after, no harm done. At best we can say that she fully avoids a threat to her sexual freedom. However, even here, we do not see Bella withdraw consent to sexual encounter based on her own learned preferences. For a story focused on liberation and self-exploration, the fact that we never see Bella developing or enforcing her own sexual boundaries short of "don't literally mutilate my body" makes the theme feel under-developed.
Not only is it a missed opportunity, but in my opinion it undermines the supposed exploration of sexual liberation by ignoring a full half of what it means to be sexually liberated. In this regard, the entire film comes off to me as a very shallow "third wave" feminist flop exclusively obsessed with the image of a woman having nonstop sex as an expression of the ultimate freedom. In ignoring the potential implications of assault (or just broadly unenjoyable sex, it doesn't have to be sexual violence) Poor Things also fails to account for another important aspect of the socialized environment that it is supposedly trying to criticize: While it is true that women are broadly not encouraged to pursue or enjoy sex in our society, they are almost paradoxically also pushed to engage in it anyway even (and sometimes especially) when they don't want to. Married women's bodies have "belonged" to their husbands for centuries. Women are expected to put out after a man goes through the effort and expends the money to take her on a date. If a woman dresses too "provocatively", she must be asking for sex or should at least be willing to "help a guy out" because his arousal is her fault.
On one hand, it could and had been argued that Bella genuinely wants to have as much sex as possible, so this is irrelevant to her story. The fact that she agrees to have sex with basically anyone who offers means that none of these extremely common everyday occurrences for the average woman would pose a problem for her. She would simply agree to sex, no questions asked, no problem, no conflict. That still detracts from the main themes of the film in my opinion. Considering they had a whole two and a half hours to examine this topic, the fact that they invented a female character who conveniently never says no and therefore never has to confront the problem of unwanted or unpleasant sex in any meaningful way seems frankly baffling. I'm struggling to not attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by bad writing and underdeveloped social philosophy.
As much as I understand that a protagonist doing something doesn't mean the writers are condoning it, it does genuinely seem that the creators of Poor Things are glorifying Bella's self-discovery-fueled pursuit of self-gratification in no small part as a reaction to our society's common message that women should always put others first and themselves second or worse. But in developing the character of Bella, I think they swung too far the other way and inadvertently played right back into the tropes they were trying to undermine by creating a woman who never says no to sex. Despite the heavy handed wish-fulfillment that we get out of her relationships with Duncan and Alfie and their foiled attempts to control her, Poor Things still ends up leaving us with the male gaze ideal: An attractive hypersexual woman who will have sex with you at any moment, no questions asked, no consequences, and no strings attached.
And yes. It was uncomfortable to watch. For me it was uncomfortable specifically because of the whole child-brain-adult-body situation, which according to the creators wasn't the point. I admit that I am personally invested in the topic of child exploitation, so the fact that these elements were present and weren't taken seriously is a huge black mark for me. That said, my distaste for the film is far more extensive that my distaste for how they handled the initial premise. I'm also not saying that nobody should enjoy or relate to any facet of the film. That's not even remotely my place to decide and I have seen some interesting personal interpretations, especially from autistic women, but I personally couldn't find enough redeeming qualities to offset the films failings.
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i think it’d be funny 2 send u more reqs but idk if im being annoying
but hEYY if im not. you cn read me like a book im not even gonna say anytbing 😭
ur not dw! u can send as many as u want!
anyways *clears throat*
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You Can't Do This Forever/Transcript
< You Can't Do This Forever
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Duration 28:15
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Cabby: You know what? You're right. All of you. What we need is justice.
Springy: Is that so?
Balloon: C-Cabby!
Cabby: No, Balloon. After all the pain he’s put us through in this competition, he didn’t even have a reward for us at the end. It was all a scam for us to play his games. And without the unvitationals here, it would’ve gone on forever!
Springy: NEVER AGAIN WILL HE TOY WITH US!
Springy glitches and coughs while the unvitationals cheer.
Cabby: I’ll stand aside, right now, and let you bring him to his… execution.
DUHN. DUHN. DUHN.
Walkie Talkie Laughs.
Walkie Talkie: Sweeeeet! Good talk!
Dr. Fizz: Whoa, whoa! You didn’t say anything about murdering the guy!
Groscer: Yeah! How do you think that’s going to make us look?!
Zoetrope: PLEASE, NO MORE TAKEDOWN VIDEOS!
Balloon: -What is all of this?
Cabby: -There was no way this whole group agreed to hurt MePhone! Dr. Fizz would’ve fought back due to his oath to do no harm! And Groscer needs to keep up a pristine image. Zoetrope’s a nice bonus.
Unvitationals shout and argue
Cabby: I don’t know what to think about MePhone now…but… I’m not letting him die.
Balloon nods before turning to the unvitationals
Balloon: -Everyone PLEASE! For once, after everything you’ve been through, you can have your voices be heard. Really THINK about what you want.
Tyler: Wow. Well I kinda wanna melt him!
Unvitationals: Ooooo!
Unvitationals: Melt! Melt! Melt! Melt!
Groscer: No way! There’s other ways to deal with him than DEATH.
Springy: Majority-rules, per the rules. To the lava with yee!
Cabby: Sure. But what’s justice, without proper education?
That is what you want? Justice?
Springy: -I...suppose?
It’d be great to show my prized toy first-hand…
…that nothing goes more hand-in-hand than corporation and morality!
Bot: -What?! HOW DARE YOU?! YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!
Springy: -Aw, now is that the violent language you want to influence this little-one with?
They’re no lifeless husk like the others, they’re so very special.
I’ve been programming them with all of your greatest hits!
Soon, you'll be one of many!
Bot: No!
Balloon: SOOO the open-forum discussion starts immediately, haha!
Everyone grab a folder from Cabby and take a seat, heh!
Hah...
Cabby: -[Sigh] You doing okay there, Silver?
Silver: -Peachy. I only fell victim to my own ego and obliterated our chances of saving the game. How about you?
Cabby: -Been better. If I don’t want to be complicit in murder, I have to protect the guy who has no interest in concluding the season.
Balloon: Hey! We all change.
Silver: -That’s very poetic, Balloon, but in reality--
Balloon: -No! You get what I mean, right? After everything you’ve been through?
We ALL can.
[Mephone Flashback]: Today we'll figure out the perfect winner!
[Mephone Flashback]: Without losing anyone...
Cabby: -He said he intended to end it today. That felt real.
Balloon’s right. We can talk to MePhone when this is all said and done.
But for now, we need to protect his life. And do a better job convincing them than we did with the jury.
Balloon: -Heh, WAY better, haha.
Silver: -May the gift of language be with all of us.
Balloon: We will have an open discussion in which every member of the Unvitational Committee can speak their peace on MePhone.
This will be followed by a vote for...[sigh]
"Melt" or "No melt"
A melt vote entails: “MePhone burning violently in the volcano, but with his eyes on, so he can watch his own scary, horrifying, and stupid end.”
[Ahem] Let's get started...
Groscer: My program was respected in the art world for centuries, until MePhone came along and made a mockery of it on live television!
Cabby: That’s understandable.
Zoetrope: After MePhone’s black-and-white cookie destroyed my animation machine, I had to shop around your mediocre pilots for cash… I WAS DISGRACED!
Tyler: He burned down my island and gave me no royalties for my starring role in a fake home makeover show special!
Springy: I came all this way to have my contract ignored after I gave so many helpful ideas to save the show!
Balloon: You wanted to replace us with toy replicas!
Springy: And it’d save you so much anxiety, little thing. Isn’t that worth it?
Balloon: -[Sigh] ...yeah....
Cabby: NO!
Dr. Fizz: MePhone turned this “safe-place” of his into a minefield of trouble! And now I’m hearing there was a MURDER?
Blueberry: -It was awesome.
Zoetrope: Someone made a scathing video essay called “What RUINED Zoetrope?” It has a million views and counting!
[Barking sounds]
Cabby: -Quite the rich accent...
Groscer: Now everyone is submitting machine-made episodes!... Including Zoetrope!
Zoetrope: Including me!
Camera 2: He wouldn’t let us invade his privacy!
Silver:-[Sarcastically] I'm so sorry.
Cabby: I have my notes. Now let’s change some minds!
Silver Spoon: But did you know that the Green Goddess only lives today because MePhone has recovered her life, as well as the lives of all his contestants?
-Tyler: Oh dear, I’m SO SORRY I didn’t know!
Walkie Talkie: Hey! Bias-alert! So you’re going to just worship the guy cause he has powers?
Balloon: -Aw, someone’s not so scary once she’s got the attention she needs!
I understand how it feels to be alone in the world.
But as drawn as I was to playing like a villain when I first started...
I figured out I’m not gonna patch up my own holes by pointing out everyone else’s!
Cause believe me, [mimicks himself] I don’t sound great with a hole popped in me. Haha!
Cabby: -Okay, so that just leaves...
Groscer: He thinks he can cheat through life!
Zoetrope: He’ll kick anyone else to the curb!
Camera 1: He’s fame-obsessed!
Walkie Talkie: Disloyal!
Springy: Dismissive!
Tyler: Careless!
Dr. Fizz: Reckless!
Boaty: HOOOONK!
Cabby: Let's take a quick recess!
Balloon: -[Whispering] Do you think we’re in a good enough spot to vote?
Silver Spoon: I think we still have Groscer and Zoetrope against melting.
However, Dr. Fizz didn’t seem too keen after the “fake murder” debate. So uptight.
Balloon: But we might’ve convinced Tyler and Sprinkles.
Boaty… still eludes me.
Cabby: Ugh, I was hoping I’d magically be able to come up with convincing points, but I… guess I’m still me. [Chuckle]
Silver Spoon: You’ve done well guiding the discussion. You should be proud. Best we can do now is hope.
Cabby: Wait. One more thing, while I have this platform.
Cabby: Springy. I know you’re feeling hurt, but--
Springy: [Mocking] But, oh no, deep down, MePhone’s a great guy and I’ve just been seeing it aaaall wrong because I’m alone!
because I’m a little lost toy, because I'm wearing some mask!
Well- NEWS FLASH [glitches]
I wish this was a mask! You think you can sucker ME into an emotional moment?!
Cabby: No, Springy. I can’t. Because you’re soulless.
You care for no one but yourself.
Bot worked so hard to find themself, after they were trapped to live someone else’s life.
And now you’re looking to do the same to this poor thing?
You could never help this show. All you ever do is destroy.
Springy: -I don't--[glitches]
[Laughing, desperate] You--you thought I was helpful!
I made you SMILE!
I--[laughs]
[Glitching] WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT RIGHT AND WRONG?!
YOU PUNTED ME DOWN TO HIM!
[Glitching] BUT NOOO, I DON’T HEAR NO SORRY’S FOR THAT!
Balloon: Cabby!
Cabby: Sorry? You want a sorry?
Might as well, that’s all anyone ever wants from me! I’ve said sorry for having files that help keep things straight.
For trying at anything! And for being me.
But despite everything thrown my way, when I felt like everyone hated me, I still tried to listen to others and connect with them!
[Sniffles] I tried...
Test Tube: Cabby, I didn’t realize…
Cabby: So maybe I don’t need to apologize for everything I am.
Maybe, Springy, you were terrorizing my friend, so I saved them from you. And I won’t be apologizing for that.
Silver Spoon: OKAY. Let’s vote!
Walkie Talkie, Camera 1, and Camera 2: MELT! MELT! MELT! MELT! MELT–!
[MePhone vibrates in protest]
Groscer: Get excited, everyone! I am about to tally-up all ten Unvitational Committee Members’ votes.
Done.
And--with five votes "melt"...
and five votes..."not melt"...
we are tied!
Everyone: -Gasp.
Walkie Talkie: I guess that means we stick to the original plan, then! Yay!
Silver Spoon: OR! Maybe since we swayed so many, that should be enough for you melt-weirdos.
Camera 1: Weirdos?! I knew you didn’t care for our movement!
The Floor: MURDER! ISN’T! A “MOVEMENT!”
Boaty: [HORN]
Groscer: Oh, I am so sorry. How unprofessional of me...
There’s still one vote left.
This will determine the fate… of MePhone4.
The final vote is...
NOT MELT. MePhone is saved from execution!
[A few members of the Uninvitationals, and the Contestants cheer]
Groscer: -Hm...B-P?
Balloon: -Ballpoint?
Tyler: Well he was invited to the committee.
The Floor: Then there we have it! MePhone is saved!
[Cheering continues]
[Somber music]
Walkie Talkie: NO.
Walkie Talkie: MePhone has taken everything from us, and we’re just going to keep celebrating him?!
Walkie Talkie: Hah, they’ve done the hard work for us already. We never needed them for the rest.
Spring-toys, let’s bring him up!
[Thud]
[Vroooom]
The Floor: MePhone, no! Come back with him!
Springy! You know we can’t do this without him
[Boing]
Cabby: We need to hurry!
[Thud]
[Bang]
Silver Spoon: Hm, Sorry, handsome.
Cabby: Think you can stop them if you go full Inner-Flame?
Balloon: WHAT? It’d go haywire again!
Silver: -Well. Gold does look good on me. Got any thorns?
[Deflating sounds]
[Scary, triumphant music]
Springy: WALKIE!
Walkie Talkie: Oh, hey! You want the honors?
Springy: He deserves pain, but not like this.
He gives so much life to the show in a way that we… can’t.
[Glitching] And I feel this want to… help! Don’t you too?
Walkie Talkie: OF COURSE! That’s why I’m going to keep this season ALIVE.
I was built to. I thought you understood! You were thrown away when you were at the height of achieving your purpose!
Springy: My old one. But that’s business, baby. Let’s hop to the next thing!
Walkie Talkie: I DON’T QUIT! I don’t bow down.
Walkie Talkie: I still have MY purpose!
Walkie Talkie: H--wh--oh no--how are you in control of it?!
Walkie Talkie: SPRING TOYS! Stick to your purpose!
Walkie Talkie: NOT another step! Or he GETS IT!
[Step]
Walkie Talkie: Uh--I mean it!
[Step]
Springy: Aw, what’s wrong, Walkie? He just wants to play.
[Thud]
Walkie Talkie: You don’t need to do this!
[Unplugs]
MePhone: AHHH!
I know who sent her here!
Walkie Talkie: You SURE?
Walkie Talkie: I was programmed just for you, MePhone!
Walkie Talkie: You're my voice on the other side! That’s all this show is, isn’t it?
Whether it’s the ones you’ve built, or the ones you can recover. WE’RE ALL FOR YOU, MEPHONE FOUR-!
[BZzzt]
[Powers down]
MePhone: -For...me?
Silver: -Heh, can't bluff a bluffer!
[Calming music]
[Shine]
Spring-Bot: My...purpose.
MePhone-Huh?
AHH!
Spring-bot: MY. PURPOSE.
[Running]
MePhone: -Ahh! AUGH!
[Crash]
[Triumphant music]
Springy: You're finally free!
[Zip] [Thud]
[Unnerving music]
MePhone: No...powerless again.
We've lived this before!
Why? Why does everyone keep risking their lives for me?
All I do is screw up!
?: Haha!
?: Sure. You've made your mistakes.
MePhone4S: But we all realize sooner or later, with all that you've been gifted...
...there's no happy ending without you.
MePhone4.
[Coding, rattling]
MePhone: NOT. AGAIN.
[Burning]
MePhone: -Augh...
Balloon and Cabby: MEPHONE!
Cabby: -Are you still powered down?
MePhone: No. It’s just I... put in a few days of work…
...over the course of a few seconds!
Y'know, computer stuff!
Phew.
[Thud]
MePhone: [Sigh] Okay!
Now!
[Ding!]
-What?! Since when could you?
MePhone: Computer-stuff. Since I have a gift, I might as well use it.
Spingy: I'm...back! I'm back to-- [glitches] NORMAL!
[Sigh] Springtastic...
You’re right. They can be whoever they want.
We're square.
[Boing]
MePhone: -AUGHHHHH!! I can’t do this forever! I can’t! AUGHHHHH!
Balloon: MePhone! MePhone. It’s okay, you don’t have to. It’s not like it’s too late to turn things around.
Cabby: We’re here for you.
Silver Spoon: That is… so long as you’re not going to ditch us for a shiny new season.
-GRR!
-What? We were all thinking it!
MePhone: -That season four file was mine. I got scared, and instead of fixing all my garbage I looked into a replacement for the replacement.
But that’s exactly what Cobs would do to us.
Thanks for trusting I’d figure it out.
This is our home. At least till the job is done.
Balloon: Soooo, there IS a prize, then?
mePhone: -Heh...
I'll work on it! I promise.
[EXAMINATION TIME: TA DA!]
MePhone: …And, I wanted to apologize to you all.
This unanimous voting thing
4 notes · View notes
m0thmachine · 5 months
Text
Family
This is a long post, but I hope somebody will take the time to read it. It's about my Zionist family. My Zionist, pro-Netanyahu family. My family that, as I peel back the layers, has more I've been looking away from.
When I was a child, my mom and dad promised to love me forever. They sang songs to me about it, read books to me about it, and told me their love was unconditional. They raised me and guided me. During some of the most pain I have experienced, they took care of me; they provided love and understanding. Unconditional love.
Whenever I had the hope to imagine a future, my parents were there. My wedding would have them walking me down the aisle. Just a few weeks ago, my mother and the Rabbi were discussing wedding plans with me, as we walked to my Bubby’s grave, my fiancé with us. My mom has been asking about making concrete plans for a date or venue excitedly, whenever there’s nothing else in the way.
I went to a protest to call for a ceasefire. I protested for Palestine, in a crowd with several other Jews, where a Jewish speaker from a Jewish organization was given the mic and led cheers.
I didn’t tell my family I was going, because I knew they were afraid. They said these rallies were antisemitic. I thought they were misinformed, or responding to truly antisemitic incidents. I went to support Palestine, but also to see for myself. I went to call for a ceasefire, but also to tell my parents “see? You don’t need to be scared. These people are our allies for peace.”
But my parents and sister didn’t care that there was no antisemitism at the protest; they didn’t care that it started by shouting out and thanking Jewish organizations who led sit-ins for Palestine.
According to my family, there is a simple formula.
Hamas hates all Jews. Thus, Hamas should be wiped out, as they are a threat to Jewish survival. Every person who does not stand up against Hamas is complicit, and thus hates Jews and should be wiped out. People outside of Gaza are not Palestinian–someone we know whose father grew up in Haifa, for example, cannot call herself or her father Palestinian. Thus, everyone who is Palestinian is in Gaza. And everyone in Gaza supports Hamas, explicitly or implicitly. And everyone who supports Hamas hates all Jews and is a threat to us.
This formula leaves 2 things clear.
Any pro-Palestine protest or rally, regardless of Jewish participation or even leadership, regardless of what is actually said, is an antisemitic hate rally.
Israel is only taking out enemies to Jews. To defend the dead in Gaza is to defend terrorists.
If I don’t renounce my support for Palestine, I am an antisemite to them. My father told me in an email that I am desecrating my family’s memory. The Rabbi referred to my attendance at a protest as a burden on my family, and expressed his sympathy and support to them. My father and sister already told me they don’t wish to speak with me if I’m not willing to listen—to listen to why denouncing thousands dead as a genocide makes me an antisemite.
When I was a baby, they sang to me about loving me forever.
Even if my family were to forgive me, I don’t know if I can ever go back. If they refuse to respect Palestinian identity as legitimate, and if they continue to justify bombing hospitals and whole neighborhoods as a necessary act of self-defense, I don’t think I can ever look at them the same way again.
I believe in protecting those who are in danger. I believe in living with others and finding beauty in difference. I believe in the inherent value of a human life. I believe that nobody should ever be forced to leave their home behind or face death. I believe that no child is evil. I believe that history will repeat if we ignore it.
These are all things I learned from my parents.
I cannot begin to understand how the values they instilled in me are so easy to wave away for them. My friends, who have known them for years, say it doesn’t sound like them. They say there must be some kind of misunderstanding.
But every time I assume ignorance, or that they could at least agree to a ceasefire or how terrible it is to harm civilians, they surprise me. They email me Hamas’ old charter, and say that any support of Palestine is to agree with it. They say that if the people in Gaza didn’t want to die, they should go to another Arab country, or renounce Hamas. They say that a Jewish state must exist for us to be safe. They say that Palestine wouldn’t exist without Israel, who provides them food and water, and that it’s selfish and hypocritical for Palestine to say they’re oppressed. They cut off their only Palestinian friend for posting in support of Palestine, and then tell me that I’m in an echo chamber and have fallen for propaganda.
I need to start planning my wedding. I don’t know if it will be a Jewish wedding, if my Rabbi will refuse to officiate it. I asked another anti-Zionist Jew in Montreal, and they said that there’s no anti-Zionist synagogues here. I’ve effectively been excommunicated. I don’t know if my parents or sister will come to the wedding. I don’t know if that will be my choice or theirs.
Ima, my mother who I address in Hebrew. Ima, who taught me what love feels like. Ima, who instilled in me a sense of justice. Ima, how could you tell me that cutting off food and water to people is justified? How could you tell me that blowing up hospitals is necessary? How could you tell me that being appalled by this makes me less Jewish?
Part of the pain is that this has peeled back walls I have put up, to prevent cognitive dissonance from splitting my skull. There are other signs seeping out, that I have turned a blind eye to things I would normally never abide by.
When my mother said that Israel had to cut off food and water and power in Gaza to defeat Hamas, I said that collective punishment is not right. I brought up a much more mild example, but one close to home: I am transgender, and I said that I would never support collective punishment on the people of the UK or US South, despite laws that deny trans peoples’ identities, that ban us from sports, and that seek to prevent us from being allowed to discuss our existence around children.
My mother, who had defended my gender before, who calls me her son, said that she doesn’t disagree with those laws.
She said that she thinks some things have gone too far, and that the laws around sports are fine, and that children shouldn’t be thinking about their genders, it shouldn’t be in schools.
How long had I been looking the other way?
Today J.K. Rowling called all trans women rapists. A few weeks ago, the Prime Minister of the UK said that trans women are men and trans men are women. My parents have plans to go to London soon, where they’ll pay to go to a Harry Potter exhibit.
If my parents said they don’t hate Palestinians and don’t hate trans people, that was enough for me. Of course they couldn’t. They’re not hateful people. They’re good people.
If my parents expressed love for Israel, they were only afraid of Hamas. If my parents supported an author who hates people like me, it was only out of ignorance, or a deep love for the series.
My parents would never justify genocide.
My parents would never give money to people who call people like my friends and myself rapists and invalid.
My parents would view calling for a ceasefire as good, and civilian death as horrible.
Right?
Right, Ima?
Even if my parents “forgive” me—forgive me for the crime of standing among waving Palestinian flags, for chanting “ceasefire now,” for saying a country does not speak for me—I don’t know if I can ever see them the same way again.
There comes a point where love isn’t enough.
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architectuul · 3 months
Text
Gabu Heindl: No To The Discriminatory Architecture
We are leaving the 2023 with the last Weltraum in this season. On the Independent Coastal Radio NOR we hosted Gabu Heindl, whose architecture says yes and no. Yes to the design of public buildings and infrastructures, cultural and educational buildings. No to chauvinistic, racist or discriminatory architecture, to exploitative project proposals, suburbanizing single-family houses or speculative buildings. All projects are positioned in the urban cultural environment from film, art, theater and music to kindergarten, school building and social housing.
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Gabu Heindl | Photo © Katharina Gossow
***
What relationships in space create chauvinistic, racist or discriminatory architecture?
Gabu Heindl: I've written this statement on my website and it's been a bold statement to remind myself trying to see how architects can be less complicit in chauvinist building of our environment in supporting racist housing politics, in engaging in discriminatory or defensive urban space design. It is something that should assure us that we can actually as architects ask ourselves to what extents we can contribute to a less racist, to a less chauvinist, to a less discriminatory world.
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Extension of the self-organized housing project Planet 10
Which approach you follow in creating and defining your projects?
GH: I wish there was one path or one way of working. It seems every task, every project somehow asks for its own project development. But I do believe that thinking about project development affects what we do and how we could in the best sense accommodate the engagement of those whom we work with. I hope that we rarely consider it as working for but rather working with; hence we take sides for those who will use the space but not always is the client.  
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Extension of the Kindergarten Rohrendorf near Krems (2008). | Photo © Lisa Rastl
If you design a school or a kindergarten the client may be sitting in some office in Vienna organising school buildings. It's the kinds and the teachers who we actually have to speak to. And when it comes to self-initiated housing, which my office is more and more engaged in: affordable, non-market and co-housing, that specially requires a different approach. We are not taking a brief and just turning it into architecture, but we are developing the brief with people. 
How living in New York changed your perception of the city?
GH: Of the general city maybe more than of New York I would say. I lived in Tokyo and in New York, which were the largest cities that I lived in, and then I lived in Amsterdam for some time. All of that was really not important to me because it was so to say my lifestyle ideal of being in the biggest cities, it was much more an idea to move to places to understand how it is to live there. I also had experienced life in a small village. Since some time now I am based back to Vienna. As I am now commuting between Kassel and Vienna I can say it all supported to understand this one idea: if a city allows you to live well when it comes to affordable housing, public space, schooling, healthcare etc. this gives you freedom to be independent, freedom to choose what you want to work on. This is what I found really until today the best to experience in Vienna. 
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Gabu Heindl in discussion with Boštjan Bugarič
What about Vienna?
GH: I have the possibility to join the activism of some of my friends in Vienna who are fighting racist exclusion of social housing and the discriminatory Viennese first policy. There are still welfare structures existing in the city and still to a lot of people, yet we are fighting for that they apply for everyone: having your basic needs not to become your existential worry. is important for everybody. everyone should be able to chose what they want to engage with, what and who to work together. Of course also for an architect, it makes it easier for me to not engage in work I wouldn't want to do just for the sake of earning money. 
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Donalkanal Partitur, the regulation and development guidelines for the Viennese Donaukanal In cooperation with Susan Kraupp (2012 – 2014). | Photo © Gabu Heindl
Yes, I think that's more difficult in New York, to come back to your question, but then of course also too many people in Vienna are still exactly in this situation that they don’t know how to pay rent or pay food at the same time at the end of the month. That is really what drives me, to fight for these basic rights of everyone.
What about the rest of the Europe, can you see the indirect discrimination?
GH: For sure, there is discrimination, still East-West, South-North, but also within cities. Every city that we are working in, in every city that we are critically mapping we can identify areas that have less infrastructure, that are less equipped, and at the same time it doesn't even mean necessarily that they are more affordable. That's the absolute tricky part, that exploitation comes along the exploitation within just the simple need of housing. Affordability does not relate to the quality of space. Yes, we need to speak about the rights to decent housing and a decent life for all the people in Europe – for everyone who is here and including people who will want or need to migrate to Europe in the future.
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The Promises of Modernist Premises: Pool Trakiya is a collective re-appropriation of a deserted pool as communal outdoor centre in Plovdiv, Bulgaria (2016).
To combine the social question together with the ecological question means at the end of the day that there will be some new distribution and that also means that if we speak just about distribution of space some will have to actually to give up of which they have too much at the moment. That is the hard message that nobody wants to talk about. If we speak about living with less CO2 emissions, sharing more space then the crucial question is who exactly do we address? And we shall certainly not address those who already live on so much smaller space and means than others. 
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Architectuul organised a conference about social housing in Ljubljana, Slovenia in 2018 with Gabu Heindl, Frédéric Druot, Rémi Buscot (Atelier d'architecture autogérée), Florian Köhl, Davide Marchetti, Alessio Rosati, Alenka Korenjak, Anja Planišček.
In 2018 we had the opportunity to host you at the conference Collective Housing: New Initiatives in Ljubljana to share different knowledge of cooperative housing, knowledge that is lost because of being shame of ideas coming from Yugoslavia; what projects from Vienna did you present to be useful in Slovenia?
GH: I think every place itself has a history of common ownership model and I think what we are planning at this moment with my dear University colleagues such as Iva Marčetić at the Master Studio in Kassel is to really look into different common ownership models in different histories of different places. It's not about bringing a Viennese model to some other places or a successful cooperative logic that is established somewhere to be imported somewhere else but in a way all the cities can relate to a common other history or maybe sometimes supposedly lost history or an alternative history that they could actually revive. I am interested in what logics of common ownership and common ways of organising, also governance, or questions of how to produce together have existed in a specific place. And there I would say, we should much rather share maybe the histories of reviving, of maybe sharing experiences of how some of this knowledge has been lost but how it also can be recuperated, further re-invented, critically inherited.
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From the solo exhibition Urban Conflicts - A Housing Manifesto (2022). | Photo © Jan Prokopius
I studied the case of Red Vienna, which is a case of communal ownership housing models and with a supposedly successful continuity, and even there I did find alternatives in this already alternative history. If we consider Red Vienna to be an alternative case to so many cities of neoliberal housing development then even parallel to this public housing story you could find even more emancipatory, more feminist, more community-organization than top down housing provision. I am very happy that as an architect I can support activists and groups to self-initiate projects that have another solidarity idea than purely provision of standardised housing. I consider our work nearly as a reviewing of some of the historic emancipatory notions. If the groups I work with do so or not, doesn't matter. But we can see such a powerful agonistic drive in so many cities, especially if you think of the politics of all these powerful movements in Belgrade, Zagreb and so many cities in Southern Eastern Europe. Then I think there is a lot to learn for people in Vienna the other way around. 
This question of mine was more a provocation.
GH: It really was. ☺
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How do you see the work of women in architecture?
GH:I am really sad this still has to be a topic, and I am very grateful that a lot of my colleagues are actually working on this ever actual topic. I've seen my feminist engagement in architecture in looking into the very structural inequality not so much of architects but generally the structural spatial injustice between men and women and even more intersectionally with regards to class and race next to gender. I would try to always think these categories together. We need to look at what is happening in terms of accessibility to space, in terms of literally the possibility or rather impossibility to partake in anything, starting with being able to live peacefully, also affordably but also to take part in public space, to partake in the making of our cities, if we relate that to Henri Lefebvre for instance.
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Radical Democracy in Architecture and Urban Planning PDF
In Kassel we are currently working on a project where we look into the interrelationship between the gender wealth gap and home ownership or freehold flats. The gender wealth gap is even wider than the gender pay cap. Looking at the trend or rather the political project of buying a home shows exactly how the structural inequality between men and women gets ever bigger. With little chance for wealth acquisition some people will never be able to afford to buy a house or an apartment. However, what we want to do is not to argue for every women to become as wealthy as some men but rather radically critique the idea of wealth and the constructed goal of owning an apartment and further look into common ownership housing, or “social property” and this comes again back to rental housing. We would like to develop good arguments against the idea of owning a home. With owning I mean to have a property title of it, but of course what we need to do is to have the idea of “owning” as belonging, in terms of that an apartment, a home is mine, I have the key, I have security, I will be able to live there and will not be thrown out, also that the rental price will not grow erratically. So in this sense we need to gain precision between the terms property and ownership and also the belonging to a place and all the security which should come with that. 
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Outside in Prison is an art project in a men’s prison courtyard in Krems (2011). | Photo © Gabu Heindl
We are highly inspired by Silvia Federici, who in the 1970s with a whole group of feminists were  supporting the battle for wages for housework. But turned the battle even further and declared the slogan of wages against housework, said something like "we don't want just to be payed for house work, we want to change the logics of who is doing what sort of work and how we share it completely differently." Again I think the history of feminism has so much to offer for us, and how with their critical thinking we can do another turn and understand spaces within the logics of capitalism or also within the logics of white wealthy male.
How do you see yourself as an educator?
GH: The reason why I like to teach is because it is beautiful to see this young generation of students to be so political again. I can see how our generation has to keep up with the radicality that these kids are demanding and this is enormously empowering to see how some paradigm changes could really happen as well as systemic and radical rethinking. Our students literally demand demolition stop, they are demanding the stop of new construction as long as there is so much vacancy, as long as there is so much unused space. With this powerful force we are challenged to completely rethink what architecture is about. How can we engage in world without destroying so much, without using so much energy, without architecture being such a big part in emissions and all the waste production. When I took over the chair of ARCHITECTURE CITIES ECONOMIES | Building Economy and Project Development I realised that this is exactly where we need to be at this moment: to really redefine who and what project development does, how it could contribute to more justice, but also support solidarity and circular economies, the rebuilding instead of new sealing, concepts of using instead of owning. 
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Master Studio Urban Conflicts in Housing Development at the Department of Building Economics and Project Development: Architecture Cities Economies in Kassel, Germany.
And if we do construct newly then maximally social and ecological and that's already a big claim, which we need to define properly. Just as much as economies: I hope that students think about financial economy not more than of commoning, feminist or foundational economies. There are so many other concepts of economy which have to come to the foreground again. And since my department includes the term “project”, which is such a modernist driven concept, we need to rethink it and that applies of course also to the term “development”. How to conceptualize development without growth? At then, very simply at the end, who is a project developer? I would love to empower students, and also activist – as that's what I do in my architectural work – generally to make people understand that they can all be project developers. There is not only Benkos; quite the opposite. We have to democratize the idea of project development with regards to the housing crises and the overshadowing climate catastrophe. It is great that the University Kassel gives me a chance to do so, it is an important moment to engage and contribute to this change. 
What about creativity?
GH: If I speak about this concept of building economy people think that architecture doesn't need any creativity anymore. I would really like to emphasize that to repair all our built environment and to make it a livable environment for everyone and every species, we have to use so much creativity and design so many beautiful things. We shouldn't worry that to work on a socio-ecological transformation wouldn't need all of our creative energy, let's share it for a more caring and just world.
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Disposing of Hitler: Out of the Cellar, Into the Museum. an exhibition at Austrian Museum of Contemporary History Vienna. | Photo © Klaus Pichler
***
Gabu Heindl is an architect, urban planner and activist in Vienna. As professor at the faculty of architecture she is heading the design and research department ARCHITECTURE CITIES ECONOMIES | Building Economy and Project Development at the University of Kassel.Her office GABU Heindl Architecture focuses on public space, public buildings, common-ownership and non-market housing as well as collaborations in the fields of history politics and critical artistic practice. From 2013 to 2017 she was chair of the ÖGFA – Austrian Society for Architecture. Gabu has obtained a doctorate in Vienna and studied architecture in Vienna, Tokyo and Princeton. From 2018 to 2021 she was Visiting Professor at Sheffield University with a research focus on Urban Commons and subsequently Professor of Urban Design at TH Nuremberg. 2019-2023 she was Unit Master at the Architectural Association School of Architecture (AA), London. Gabu lectures frequently and and has been publishing numerous articles and books including the co-editing of Building Critique, Architecture and its Discontents, Spector Books 2019 and the monograph Stadtkonflikte. Radikale Demokratie in Architektur und Stadtplanung, Mandelbaum 2020 (2022 3rd edition).
Here You can listen to the WELTRAUM interview.
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hordebreaker · 1 year
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Jaina was never supposed to be a villain. She did not destroy Orgrimmar, although she had every right to do so, and as time proved, this is exactly what should have done, but she decided to spare the horde, because Thrall said that she would become like Garrosh (Blizzard has interesting priorities, starting wars is ok, revenge is bad). Thrall is a villain in this story more than Garrosh, because he literally told Jaina when she suggested that he discuss the Ashenvale/barrens war, he said "not my problem anymore"). She lost many people she took responsibility for when they followed her to Kalimdor.
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In the days to come, Jaina worked tirelessly to rally as many refugees as she could. Not everyone she met agreed to go with her, but many did. When she finally set sail for Kalimdor, her force included members from nearly every Alliance race. Some were survivors from Lordaeron and Quel’Thalas. Some were dwarves and gnomes from the Alliance military. And some were humans from Stromgarde, Kul Tiras, and other nations in the region. Though they came from different places, they followed Jaina Proudmoore for the same reason. She represented something that had almost entirely vanished from the Eastern Kingdoms. She represented hope.
And yet, when she agreed to become the leader of Dalaran, she decided that the city would stay neutral because she wanted to continue Rhonnin's work to preserve the unity of the Kirin-Tor and protect magic from all sorts of Kael and Kel-Thuzad 2.0. Despite her feelings and wishes, she still believed if Dalaran survives, then the rest of Azeroth would have a chance. She still believed in "sane" horde.
What if the Horde killed your friends? Your family? Destroyed everything your had. Could you maintain your conviction even then? To be honest, I struggle. Every. Day. You seem to understand my struggle. Every day, the hard decisions. Every night… the nightmares. But I have a responsibility to preserve the Kirin Tor. - ''The Fate of Dalaran."
But Jaina did not take into account that the Kirin-Tor is not really united and the elves continue to help the horde steal valuable artifacts that can arrange another Theramore bit worse.
The night elves learned that the Divine Bell was stolen. This much we anticipated. However, they've also found out that the "neutral" SunreaverS of Dalaran were complicit. Now, we've got a situation. - 'The Situation In Dalaran'. We know where the Alliance have hidden the Divine Bell. We've already inserted an agent into enemy territory, we just need you to help him execute his mission[...]Furthermore, the SunreaverS of Dalaran are risking their neutrality by assisting the Horde with this operation. - 'Insertion'.
The Alliance obtained the bell and brought it to Darnassus in order to keep it out of the war and Garrosh. The night elves called Jaina to put up a barrier around the city so no one could carry it out of the city. And you can't say that Jaina violated her neutrality, because she didn't. She did the same what Rhonnin had done:
“I and several others will be arriving shortly to lend our assistance in the defense of Theramore. I stress the word ‘defense.’ We will protect, but we will make no offensive moves. Our greatest hope is that our presence will serve as a deterrent. Is this fully understood?” - Rhonnin, Tides of War.
“Dalaran is neutral,” said Modera. “We went to Theramore only to protect and advise.” - Modera, Tides of War.
and Aethas (who did much more, but Jaina did not expel him for this. So, draw the conclusion, assistance of this kind does not equate to participation in the war):
We are trying to uncover the secrets of one of the mogu artifacts Garrosh insisted we investigate. It is proving most difficult, as anyone who probes it magically is greatly affected by raw, negative emotions. I called in the assistance of Arch-mage Aethas of the Sunreavers in the hopes that he and Rommath could crack this puzzle. They asked for you specifically - apparently you have some relevant experience? Go to the chamber below Farstrider Square east of here and see if you can assist them. - 'What's in the Box'.
But the Sunreavers (this is not a bunch of random elves, but a political organization) still stole the WMDs. AGAIN. Aethas is well aware of this, but decides to remain silent. Jaina at first believes that "locals' did it, but when she finds traces leading to sunreavers she understands everything perfectly and decides that she's done with their shit.
The night elves learned that the Divine Bell was stolen. This much we anticipated. However, they've also found out that the "neutral" Sunreavers of Dalaran were complicit. Now, we've got a situation. - 'The Situation In Dalaran'.
For too long, I have toiled to mend fences between Alliance and Horde. Time and time again, I've given the Horde the benefit of the doubt - and time and time again, they stab me in the back. I refuse to be betrayed again! If the Horde intends to use the Kirin Tor as a weapon against the Alliance, then they have no place in Dalaran. - 'Jaina's Resolution'.
She gave them a choice twice: 'Compliant Sunreavers will be sent to the Violet Hold. Defiant ones put to the sword. Jail or death, their fate is in their own hand'. Jaina walked around the city and teleported the elves and killed those who raised weapons at her. Most of the work was done by the high elves, who were not averse to kill their enemies.
Jaina's gone over the edge. She's imprisoning the Sunreavers and attacking those who resist. What's worse, the Silver Covenant has seized the opportunity to join the bloodshed. - Rommath
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Tyrande kills her own people to free Illidan (who was banished later) - this is fine, good girl, Jaina does the same but after second betrayel - eViL and villian!
This selective blindness pisses me off. Oh, why so cruel to the poor sunreavers? The Sunreavers provided the aggressor with weapons of mass destruction that destroyed an entire city. Ah, don't you feel sorry for all those inhabitants of Theramore, only the poor elves?But the sunreavers had not stoped there, they stole another dangerous weapon for the aggressor, what threatened to turn into no less victims. The prince himself almost died correcting their deeds.But no, you only feel sorry for the elves, who did nothing but turned out to be guilty of the death of thousands of people.
The soft purple glow heralded the blanket of arcane energy that enveloped Theramore. The mana bomb, so thoughtfully provided by the blood elves—who stood cheering with other Horde members who somehow felt that what Garrosh had wrought was a good thing—had exploded over an entire city and had not just harmed its citizens and buildings but crushed them utterly. - 'Tides of War'.
It's all nonsense. Aethas was a member of the council. But Aethas betrayed Dalaran by knowing about the crimes committed by his subordinates, he hid it, and did nothing at all. He fled, abandoned his elves, though he could have done anything for those who had suffered innocently for his mistakes. But Aethas only fooled and lied to his own lord that he knew nothing about the crimes of the sunreavers.
Ah, yes, all imprisoned elves Jaina sent home to Silvermoon long ago. But no one will return the dead Theramorians. Most of all, I feel sorry for those who ended up in Orgrimmar. And even here, Jaina only offered to dismantle the horde. It would've solve all problems in general. But noooo, it's not allowed.
She didn't say kill. She said dismantle. She asserted that the Horde should no longer self-govern. Not at all, man. Jaina doesn't trust the Horde to self-govern... Can you blame her?
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Next up is Garrosh' stupid trial, written by stupid Christie Golden. Jaina "silently" reconciles with Thrall, but they do not become friends again. Kalec tells her that if she doesn't stop wanting revenge on Garrosh, because of her feelings hurt HIM and Jaina… agrees (great message, christie). Why the hell did she help him in the Dawn of the Aspects, it would be better to throw him right in Northrend. Jaina is almost killed, then healed, the Red Crane gives her (and everyone else) the appropriate buff, and Jaina feels happiness (it's a buff, remember). However, she does not forgive the horde and does not begin to collect flowers with the horde from the same field, but leaves revenge behind.
She helps both the Alliance and the Horde to make the ring more powerful . She does not want to help the horde and makes it clear with her whole appearance and she says that she will watch over the Horde, but still helps. But no, that's not enough for you, she's been rude to the horde!!! - eViL and villian!
She is annoyed by another betrayal and says that the alliance should be ready for war with both legion and the horde, because the horde will be plotting against the alliance. Dalaran will protect the territory of the alliance, but Jaina will not let the horde come close to the city How eViL she is! Doesn't want to trust the horde. And guess what the horde did when when they were allowed to return?
The saboteur was from the Horde - one of my own Sunreavers, in fact. There are those on the Council who strongly opposed allowing us back into the Kirin Tor in the first place. As you can imagine, this gives them all the ammunition they need to lobby for our expulsion yet again. And if that happens, our truce will shatter and Azeroth will surely fall to the Legion. - Aethas Sunreaver.
And what did the horde do next? They Immediately started a new war. Because the Horde has always done this, from the very beginning of the story, and majority members of the Horde never regret anything.
When the Horde set fire to Stormwind, Jaina chose to help save the citizens instead of killing some horde leaders. When the alliance attacked Dazar'Alor, she gave the order not to touch civilians, and Genn gave the king a choice - surrender or die. How eViL and VilLiAn!
The only crazy part was when Afrasiabi unofficially left the team during the development of 8.1.5 and he was replaced by Steve Danuzer. Then, Jaina made 360 and forgave the horde, ruining all her development in almost 10 years.
Jaina did not spread the plague, she did not destroy cities using it, she did not raise the dead, she was not a tyrant in relation to her own people, she did not deprive the living of their mind, she did not send her soldiers to torture for the slightest disobedience. And some believed that she burned Teldrassil to frame the horde, while not having any basis for this at all. Jaina had never done such a thing and didn't even want to. She was never supposed to be a villain.
wow metas: Peace treaty between the horde and the alliance, war during cataclysm, Theramore was a part of the alliance
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squidlife-crisis · 4 months
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Bonepaw spent many of her days training with her new denmates. Even though Bonepaw was three moons older than them, they got along agreeably. Puddlepaw acted as their leader, always the first to challenge them to games or get into trouble. He bragged about how he caught a ribbon snake once even though his mentor Robinbelly said they were better left for experienced warriors.
Lilypaw was shy but clever, and she was competitive whenever her littermate was involved. One day she found a snapping turtle, and Puddlepaw immediately got an idea. "It's called snap or scratch! All you have to do is scratch its tongue before it can bite you!"
The turtle gaped at them dumbly, as if complicit. Puddlepaw gave its mouth a calculated swat, and he purred in triumph when he got his entire paw back, fur and all. "I did it!" he yelled.
Lilypaw made an effort, but Bonepaw could tell she jerked her paw back before it was in any danger. Bonepaw didn't try at all and agreed that Puddlepaw had won. She'd been mangled enough.
They also helped maintain the elders' den together. Bonepaw's three moons of experience gave her no advantage. In SaltClan, she'd never been expected to change the elders' bedding nor dig out their ticks. Mentioning that triggered a conversation that alarmed the other two apprentices. They even discussed telling Tallowfur about it. Bonepaw thought about it, then decided to take their advice.
She brought it up while they took a water break from hunting one day. They were alone near the creek, their mouse and squirrel safely stashed within eyesight.
"Puddlepaw and Lilypaw said I should tell you about something that happened to me in SaltClan," she started awkwardly, with no preamble.
"Oh?" The warrior didn't seem to be really interested.
"It's about the elders. All this stuff we have to do—"
She chuckled. "Every apprentice hates doing chores."
"Right," said Bonepaw. "But we never did them in SaltClan."
"Never did chores?"
"Not really, I mean." She shook her head, embarrassed. "The elders always made their own nests, or their families would help, if they had any."
"That's strange," said Tallowfur thoughtfully. Bonepaw brightened a little inside, grateful of the way her mentor took her seriously. Tallowfur looked at the jittering reflection of sunlight on the trickling creek as she spoke. "For a Clan with so many apprentices, their elders should be well cared for. It’s in the warrior code to put elders, queens, and kits first."
Bonepaw nodded to herself, ashamed for some reason. She hadn't realized SaltClan had more than an average number of apprentices.
"The older warriors always said it was a waste of time," Bonepaw said, not wanting to name anyone. She remembered Monsterclaw's scornful mew, though. "They said family should take care of family. That’s your duty to your mother and father."
"The whole Clan should be your family," said Tallowfur.
"I know. That's what the warrior code says. And that they should get fed before the warriors."
"Do they?" she asked.
"Oh, of course. We always had more than enough prey."
Bonepaw sighed, thinking of how Whitedove had terrible tooth pain that made it impossible for her to eat on some days, and she needed another cat to tear off the tenderest pieces for her. And how Fogheart sometimes wandered out of camp, thinking he was going on patrol. He'd accidentally stepped in a yellowjacket nest and died of their stings four moons ago. Bonepaw remembered the night the burial patrol came back covered up to their shoulders in red mud. They sat vigil like that all night in the rain.
"Buckstar's father was a much better cat," Tallowfur grumbled. "I was only an apprentice when Buckstar became leader, but I remember my first Gatherings. SaltClan has always been full of crowfood-eating bullies, but it never used to be this bad."
"Is there anything we can do?" Bonepaw asked, tightening the curl of her tail over her forepaws.
"It's not up to warriors of another Clan to tell the SaltClan leader how to do his job." She looked away.
Bonepaw knew she was right. But it still felt wrong to let the strange practices go unchallenged. He's not breaking the warrior code, she reminded herself. But she was starting to see the grey areas.
Tallowfur stirred and told her to collect what they'd caught, and they started the walk back to camp with their prey.
Bonepaw brought her squirrel straight to the elders' den. Most of the elders were out sunning themselves, though. Duskpearl was inside, speaking in hurried whispers to another cat. They both stiffened and looked up when they saw Bonepaw's shadow eclipse the entrance.
"Oh, hello, Bonepaw," said the old she-cat. When Bonepaw's eyes adjusted to the dimness, she recognized Beetail sitting next to her old mentor.
Bonepaw put down her catch. "I brought you some freshkill."
"Why thank you, young apprentice."  Duskpearl broke into a purr. "You must've heard my belly growling from the creek!"
Beetail sat quietly while Duskpearl nibbled the squirrel. The three of them shared it at Duskpearl's request, then Bonepaw stood to drag the remains of the carcass to the midden.
"Wait, Bonepaw," said Duskpearl sharply.
Bonepaw released the body to speak. "What is it?"
Duskpearl leaned forward and bit the squirrel near the base of the tail. She severed it and spat out fur.
"What did you do that for?" asked Bonepaw.
She winked at him. "It must be a sign from StarClan. Beetail and I were just discussing what to do about SaltClan, and you brought just the ingredient I needed for my enchantment."
"What enchantment?" asked Bonepaw, her tail flicking up in interest.
Beetail explained. "It's a very old spell that was passed down from mentor to apprentice as long as SetClan has existed. Only powerful medicine cats with a close connection to StarClan and nature can perform it."
"What does it do?" she asked.
"I need a squirrel's tail for swiftness, a gumball for protection against evil, and a token of the target of the enchantment." Duskpearl swept the squirrel's tail closer to herself with one paw. "Say, Bonepaw, why don't you ask Tallowfur if she'll let me take you out of camp tomorrow morning? We can look for the gumball together."
"I don't think it's a good idea," said Beetail. "After all, she's not a medicine cat apprentice anymore."
"But she is part of the prophecy."
Bonepaw looked from one to the other. "I can ask Tallowfur. I mean... I want to help, if it'll make SaltClan better."
"Be careful with your words," Beetail advised. "It's noble to care for other Clans, but other warriors who don't know you might mistake your intentions for a lack of loyalty to SetClan."
"Oh, I suppose you're right." Bonepaw's tail drooped. "I'd never go back there, though."
"We know," said Duskpearl.
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The next morning, a cool mist covered the camp. Tallowfur agreed to let Bonepaw help Duskpearl in the morning. Bonepaw trotted alongside the old medicine cat. Duskpearl led her through the forest, and it was a struggle to ignore the warm scents of bird and mouse that reached their noses. Maybe we can hunt on the way back, Bonepaw thought hopefully. She was eager to be on a special medicine cat mission, but she was still hungry.
Duskpearl knew exactly where to find the gumball tree. It had smoother bark than a pine and was easy to recognize in leaf-fall for all its spiked round seed pods littering the forest floor. "Careful not to stop on them," said Duskpearl.
Bonepaw sniffed the nearest one, which was big and flattened. "Will this one do?"
"Let's find a nice round one with sharp spines. It is to protect us against evil, after all."
The two cats searched for the perfect gumball. Bonepaw brought a few candidates, carefully biting the stems so that the thorns wouldn't be in her mouth. Duskpearl inspected them, then chose the smallest of the bunch.
"This one will do nicely," she said. Bonepaw crouched to peer at the seed pod. It looked hollow inside. "A place to hide, you see," said Duskpearl. "If you condense your spirit small enough to fit inside, nothing can hurt you."
"Condense your spirit?" she asked.
"It's a very old medicine cat practice. The spirit is the part of you that goes to StarClan when you die. It's something you're born with, and it's in you now. With training, medicine cats can anchor their spirit to another place besides their own body."
"Why do you need to do that?" asked Bonepaw.
"You'll see," was all she said.
The pair returned to camp well before sunhigh. Bonepaw completely forgot to ask if she could hunt, and the hunting patrols had already departed, so she was stuck in camp hungry until they came back. 
A loud snarl came from the warriors' den. Robinbelly paced out backwards, arched and hissing as though a snake found its way into their den. Immediately, every cat within hearing perked up to watch her.
"You lousy foxheart!" she spat into the entrance.
Sunplume's angry green eyes emerged, her orange and white coat equally spiked, tail lashing in the shadows of the den. She didn't take her eyes off Robinbelly. "He doesn't belong to any cat. It's none of your business!"
Bonepaw cringed, as curious as she was embarrassed to be witnessing a private argument. Neither she-cat seemed to care who overheard them.
"You deliberately went behind my back even though you knew we were mates!"
"Cottoneye can be mates with whoever he chooses! I didn't even know he was mates with you!"
"How could you be so blind, you—" Robinbelly finished with a lunge at the other cat. 
Cypressheart bolted between them. He’d been listening from his den entrance. "Sheathe your claws! Are you two both so mouse-brained you'd fight in camp? There are kits here!"
Bonepaw became aware of Bigkit and Spotkit peering out from the nursery. A spotted flank swiftly cut off their view.
"Get out of my way!" Sunplume yowled. "I'll claw her fur off! She— She—" Sunplume's gaze flashed from one onlooker to the next, as if searching for support. "He said he loved me!"
"Is that what all this is about? A tom?" Cypressheart cut in. His cold, pragmatic words made the two she-cats sound like squabbling apprentices. "You're old enough to know better. Claws won't solve anything."
"Where is Cottoneye?" Robinbelly countered. "If he loves you, why isn't he sticking up for you?"
"He went out hunting!" Sunplume went on. "I just found his fur in your nest! As soon as he gets back—"
"As soon as he gets back nothing," pressed Cypressheart. "Now, if the three of you need to discuss something with me, I'll be happy to make time for you. Until then, I don't want any bloodshed. Especially not in the middle of camp."
Sunplume flexed her claws in and out, unable to obey wholeheartedly. "Until then. Never mind after," she growled.
"You know what I meant," the deputy said with a final warning glance. "Sunplume, why don't you go for a run at the Treemoss Woods? And Robinbelly, go catch some shrimp for Moonbeetle. I didn't send a patrol to the Thunderpath ditches today, and they're his favorite."
The two cats still glowered at each other for a moment, then slunk off to follow his orders.
Bonepaw gulped hard. Silence fell over the camp. Then every pair of heads turned to gossip. Copperfang, a dusty brown tom, was nearest to Bonepaw.
"I thought Cottoneye was your mate," Copperfang whispered to Scarletdawn, on his other side.
"What?" Her eyes slitted indignantly. "That mangy old barn cat? He's too old for me!"
"From the way he talked to you..."
"The way he talked to me!" she emphasized. "Not the way I responded! I'm not interested in the slightest."
"That's a relief," said Copperfang. "I guess that's just how he is. He's been flirting with every she-cat in camp."
She sniffed. "Some toms are desperate."
They didn't have long to wait before the patrol came back. Longfern, Tallowfur, Puddlepaw, Lilypaw, Cottoneye, and Bluegrass padded up to Clay Hill from the pine forest, each sporting a piece of freshkill.
Puddlepaw dropped off his finch, then sought out Bonepaw. "Look at all the prey we caught!" he said triumphantly. "Longfern showed me how to catch a bird, and it worked!"
"Good job," said Bonepaw. But her mind was half of the episode she just witnessed, and her hackles threatened to rise as she watched Cottoneye disappear into the warriors' den.
"What's up with everybody?" Puddlepaw stood near her, looking around. "Did something just happen? Everyone's so quiet."
"Robinbelly and Sunplume had a fight," she said simply.
"Robinbelly's been acting weird lately." Puddlepaw plopped down beside her and started grooming her chest. "She yells at me for every little thing. She thinks every piece of prey I catch smells weird. It was great to have a day of hunting practice with Longfern instead."
"I think she has something else on her mind," said Bonepaw. She shuddered in horror that both Robinbelly and Sunplume could be expecting Cottoneye's kits. That would be awful, she thought. They'd have to dig a separate nursery, for surely neither could stand each other's presence long enough to wean their kits.
Bonepaw shook her head, aware she was getting too far ahead of herself.
Puddlepaw seemed oblivious. He offered to fetch something from the freshkill pile for them to share, and she agreed. In all the excitement, Bonepaw had forgotten her own hunger. When Puddlepaw's back was turned, though, she felt her eyes drawn to the dark entrance of the warriors' den. The shelter was a short clay wall between two pine trees with a roof of broadear covering the top. There were shallow ditches around it to catch rainwater. Cottoneye must surely have been expecting Sunplume to be there, but he didn't emerge.
Oh well, Bonepaw thought, maybe he's tired after the hunt.
++++
"Beetail! Beetail, wake up!"
The medicine cat sat up before even opening her eyes. Her paws took her to the entrance of her den automatically. The scent of three cats hit her: Copperfang, Duskpearl, and Moonbeetle. Copperfang was the first to push through the dangling treemoss. "Duskpearl's hurt!" he said in a hurried whisper.
The she-cat limped behind him, leaning on Moonbeetle. Beetail could hardly see by the claw moon's meager light, but she smelled blood. She sniffed the elder over and found the spot quickly: a series of punctures and a gash in her right thigh.
"Come inside and make yourself comfortable," she said. "I'll prepare a salve for you."
Duskpearl spoke as if through gritted teeth. "I'm fine. Got what we wanted."
Duskpearl insisted the two warriors go back to their den to get some rest. Beetail swallowed back alarm at the other, fainter smell clinging to the cat. When Copperfang and Moonbeetle left, she turned on her old mentor. "What in StarClan were you thinking? You smell like coyote!"
Duskpearl spat. Her speech was clearer. "It had to be done. This is nothing. Just a little scratch. I crept into the coyote’s den while it was gone. Had a scrap with a raccoon on the way back."
Beetail's nose drifted to her mentor's head. She sniffed the bundle of soggy fur Duskpearl dropped onto the dirt. It was definitely coyote hair. "What were you doing?"
"It's for the enchantment," explained Duskpearl. "You may want to deny that Bonepaw is the key to your prophecy, but some of us aren't such mouse-brains! It's our duty to help her reveal the true evil of the forest."
"I don't see how..." Beetail started, then gave up. "Never mind. We need to put some cobwebs on that wound." She didn't bother reminding her that punctures could be especially nasty, pushing infection deep into a cat's flesh even when the injury looked small.
"It'll take more than this to kill old Duskpearl," said the elder with a purr.
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Jesse Eisenberg on the Gendered Double Standards That ‘Fleishman Is in Trouble’ Exposes
The star of the new FX adaptation also discusses why he feels embarrassed by the culture the show depicts and why he’s most comfortable playing the antihero.
NOVEMBER 16, 2022 9:30AM
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Jesse Eisenberg is a bit embarrassed to be here. It’s not because of the quality of the project he’s promoting — new miniseries Fleishman Is in Trouble is based on the 2019 novel (of the same name) that was a New York Times best-seller, longlisted for the National Book Award, and landed on every major best of the year list; the FX adaptation also stars Lizzy Caplan and Claire Danes. Rather, it’s the sheer fact that he is on display as the face of this project, the subject of interest from other people. “I’m so embarrassed that I’m a public person in the first place,” he says. Also, there are themes in the drama series that are triggering for an actor inclined to humility. 
The story follows a divorce between Toby (Eisenberg) and Rachel (Danes) Fleishman, narrated by Toby’s friend Libby (Caplan). Viewers are first shown all the ways in which the social-climbing, wealth-obsessed wife has antagonized the altruistic husband, before the other side of the argument — the side that isn’t always shown in pop culture — is revealed. It all takes place on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, and while the gendered themes are universal, it particularly skewers the class consciousness of New Yorkers. (Jesse Eisenberg is a New Yorker). 
“So much of this show feels embarrassingly specific to the culture I grew up with, all things I have shame around,” he says. “It can be a relief to play something familiar, but it’s also exposing the things I’ve hidden in my own life — and here I am on television feeling those things in front of everybody.” 
Eisenberg spoke to THR over Zoom (from New York, of course, shortly before the show’s Tavern on the Green premiere party) about the onscreen exposure therapy and what Fleishman has to say about marriage.
How familiar with the book were you when you signed on?
I started reading the book because I had [read] so many interesting interviews with Taffy. The trick of the book is so satisfying. You’re involved in this man’s story, he’s this heroic, sympathetic guy, and then you realize that not only is this a one-sided perspective on a tragic marriage but also a long-standing trope in stories, that we feel bad for the man. We have different expectations for what a man should shoulder than what we think a woman should shoulder. And when it comes to issues around domestic challenges, family and marriage, we expect more from a woman.
What is your take on the character of Toby?
There’s a line at the end of the book, which I think is also in the series, that says, “Toby would come close to self-awareness and then run screaming from it.” My first reaction had been that the guy is completely self-aware, but I realized that he has a sense of righteousness that clouds him from being self-aware and seeing his own contributions to the fraught in his marriage. That was interesting to me, because I don’t think of myself that way. I think of myself as not only very self-critical, perhaps more than is healthy, but I blame myself first in a situation. And sorry, I don’t mean to tout my values, I just mean this is how my brain is wired. And Toby is not wired that way.
Were you still able to imagine yourself as him?
It’s a lot more comfortable for me to play the antihero than it is to play the charming guy. I just tend not to think of men in that way, as put-upon, I think of them as really in control. I don’t love the idea of male sympathy, which is one of the wonderful elements of the show: It makes the viewer complicit in that sympathy because you’re thinking God, this guy’s a victim. And then by the end you realize that’s just one version of this marriage. I felt it was easier for me to play the ending episodes of the show, which are more in line with the way I view complications in relationships: that there’s no saint.
Brodesser-Akner (also the series’ showrunner) is well known for her keen celebrity profiles of people like Bradley Cooper; did you feel like she was scoping you out?
I’m so glad I know Taffy through this experience, because there was a safe thing to talk about, which is the show. She did hit the thing right on the head for me, which is that I deflect from talking about myself by asking a lot of questions. She said if she was going to try to write a profile on me, it would be about the profile that I’m trying to do on her.
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What did you think of the way the show depicts New York?
This show portrays what I call Zabar’s versus Sarabeth’s, which is fascinating to me. I’m sort of neither. I was born in Queens, and when I was 5 I moved out to New Jersey, so I’ve been on the outskirts of Manhattan culture. I’ve always had this fascination with very rich people, that they could live side by side with everyone else and have these extravagant lives. I suppose there’s a bit of cynicism because you think, “I’m an artist, I’m doing it the right way, and I hate that you have to be a billionaire to get a two-bedroom apartment now.” And all that is in the show. As my character says to his wife, “I’m a rich person everywhere in the world except the 40 square blocks you insist we live in.”
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undergroundarling · 11 months
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Scrawny's Feelings
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When I was six or seven years old, my father would pick me up every night to take me to my grandparents' apartment for dinner with his nine siblings. Dinners were always chaotic, loud crossed conversations, shouts, fights, laughter, mistreatment and complicit glances when choosing who was to be mocked that night, amidst the default background noise of any Argentine family, a soccer game or a meaningless telenovela. The sounds colluding would have made anyone want to rip their ears out. My grandmother would go back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room, bringing food, sodas, napkins, etc. There was always a reason for her to get up. If she tried to sit down and eat with everyone without being interrupted, my grandfather would yell at her from his designated place to go get something, while he sat there watching tv and being immune to everything that was happening around him. I watched in silence, almost like studying them, and wondering how I could be related to them. To this day I don’t understand it. I never felt comfortable with so much movement and noise. Everynight, I tried to eat quickly to return home as soon as possible, but my dad would always say that I had to wait because he still hadn't finished. Having dinner, discussing the football game, or chatting about something trivial, then finally lighting a cigarette on the table, the wait was endless. While I waited, everyone would scold me for eating little, they used to say I was scrawny, that if I caught a cold I was going to die and that it was going to be my mother's fault. I learned to ignore them and focus on nothing itself. 
Once my dad crowned the night with a cigarette on the balcony, I would hear him say “let's go” and then begin the ritual of greeting each one of my relatives, which always took me at least fifteen minutes. My uncles’ would ignore me, my grandparents would hug me and say nice things to me, my great-grandmother would give me money on the sly and I would then head out the door. As we walked the few meters that separated the buildings where my paternal grandparents and my maternal grandparents lived, my dad used to ask me the same question every night: "Are you sad?" and I always responded by saying "no". My silence and my childish contemplative look for some reason made him believe that something bad was happening inside me. Maybe he was right  and my instinct was to say "no" but the reality is that I don't remember anything significant, which leads me to think that I simply carry hints of nostalgia on my face.
The truth is that I was always a melancholic person, even as a child, I was always missing what had already happened and trying to replicate it, or waiting for it to happen again, which obviously frustrated me. The days gone by always seemed sunnier to me, the food richer, the laughter louder, the love more intense, the smells more pleasant, and the existence more bearable. It's hard for me to enjoy the present and to appreciate what's going on around me. The few times I feel whole and at peace, no one is around to witness it. Among others, the gaze is always nostalgic, the feelings frozen, the mind gone and the words lost or vomited in badly ordered sentences. It has been this way since I can remember. Could it be that he saw this in me at such a young age? I don’t know and I don't think so. 
This memory has been lingering in my mind for the past few days. I remember spring and summer nights more than winter nights, the cool and soft wind blowing through the buildings, the green noise of the plants moving, the huge moon accompanying us on those stone paths, the red windows opened with their curtains hanging out of the frames, the neighbors sitting on the stairs and sidewalks drinking mate and chatting, as if it were three in the afternoon. I remember the smell of grass, of the flowers next to the building’s entrance. I also remember the farewell hugs with my dad, the warmth of his arms, the touch of his hands caressing my head and the smell of cigarettes in his thick dark hair. In those days, there was nothing to indicate to me that he would eventually stop asking if I was sad, or that he would also stop picking me up for dinner, or that sometimes he would pretend I wasn't real.
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