#and many pieces tried to do that weird edgy thing that almost never works

[goatmilksoda]

Last night, as part of my 31 nights of Halloween movies I watched Crimson Peak (with my parents btw) because I was so convinced it was a vampire movie that I literally wrote it into something before I saw the movie thinking "heehoo people are going to enjoy this little reference" and then it wasn't. I was so so ready for vampire Tom Hiddleston to get stabbed with a stake and maybe drink someone's blood. I'm not going to say I was disappointed because I don't think that's the right word (the production design is absolutely beautiful) but I think I will say "hey. What the fuck did I just watch".

If I had a nickel for every time Tom Hiddleston played a rich soft goth anti-hero little-brother character who has a dead mother, shitty dead father, and a weirdly incestuous relationship with an insane woman who likes knives, and also stabs someone without the intention to kill but instead just out of convenience, then I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's really weird that it happened twice.

I'm sorry I still can't get over how funny his whole character twist is.

They build up this character as Mr. Perfect (he's rich! He's fancy! He's new in town!) And his big twist is that he's a huge fucking nerd getting pegged by his sugar-sister-mommy-dommy who's killing the women he "marries" for him for money so he can play with his trinkets and build a machine.

[good-rwbyaus]

For of all this Em Batfam thing is so good. Second I got a idea for anther superhero au involeing anther character too good for Cinder. AU, where instead of Cinder the person who finds Mercury is....*Dramtic pause*.. DEADPOOL!

This one I needed time to write ~ Green

The air was filled with the ragged breathing of a young man who had fought the hardest battle of his young life. Before him laid the corpse of the man he’d been forced to call his dad, but Marcus Black was anything but that. Fathers were supposed to love their sons, teach them about life, and prepare them for manhood…

All Marcus had ever taught his son, Mercury, was how to take a punch, where to strike ro disable someone, how to kill, poison, lie, cheat, and gods know what else that had been locked inside his brain. Now Mercury had struck back against the man who’d made his life a living hell, and all it cost him was his own life; that seemed like a fair trade off.

Just as Mercury was about to start walking towards the burning cabin that had been his home all his life, he heard clapping. This caused him to turn,and got in a half heartened fighting stance.

‘So this is how it all ends…figures.’ Mercury thought as his burning muscles tried to keep him in the stance.

“Who’s there?!” Mercury shouted as his eyes tried to pinpoint the source of the clapping.

“That was beautiful kid, you got a real talent for fucking up shitheels.” A man’s voice called out, as a figure emerged from the brush. It was a guy in some weird red suit, with katanas on his back.

Mercury stood there, continuing to hold his stance “The hell are you?”

“First of all drop the stance kid, we both know you’re tapped out. Second of all I’m just a merc who came for the open contract on Marcus Black’s head, but it seems some kid beat me to it.” The red suit man explained as he walked past Mercury so casually, as if he’d been nothing.

Mercury turned around to see the man in red examine Marcus’ corpse. He wanted to say something, but there was something about the man…something he couldn’t wrap his mind around.

The man in red was still casually observing Marcus’ corpse, his back turned to Mercury leaving him open to an attack. “Oof, you really did a number on him, kid. What was this your first big contract, so you decided to make a message out of it? Get your name out there as one of the big boys?”

Mercury finally spoke for the first time in what felt like hours, but was probably just barely a couple minutes. “I didn’t even realize there was a contract on him.”

This revelation had really caught the man in red’s attention, causing him to look back at Mercury. “So you willingly just picked a fight with Remnant’s top assassin?”

“He had it coming, he took everything from me.” Mercury spat as he felt some form of adrenaline pumping through him again.

“He killed your family, or something?” The man stood, facing Mercury so he could size him up.

The question caused Mercury to snort, as if he knew something the man in red would never fathom. “I think he may have killed my mom at this point, but no that’s not the reason I wanted to kill him. He took my semblance, my life, and hell for good measure my legs.”

The man in red was shocked to see Mercury lift his pants leg to reveal a prosthetic leg was hidden underneath it. Why the hell would Marcus do all this to some kid.

“Who are you?” The man in red had finally asked the million lien question it seems, because Mercury just gave him a look. “Oh should I already know you then?”

Mercury just snorted before crossing his arms. “Not really, but to answer your question, the name is Mercury…Mercury Black.”

The second Mercury uttered his name, things began to click for the man in red. So the son murdered the father because, for lack of better terms, the father was a true blue asshole. He’d always known Marcus was a real piece of shit, in their line of work you heard these things, but doing this to his own son…if hell was real, then Marcus was probably burning in his own private lava pit.

“Geez kid, I thought my old man was a piece of work, but yours really took the cake.” The man in red started to approach Mercury.

“Yeah, and now he’s gone. So you can piss off whoever the hell you are, claim the kill as your own, I don’t care.” Mercury still had some steam left, but it was all too clear that he was barely standing.

“Well ain’t that cute, but sorry cupcake I do care. Your life has clearly been a toilet, and you could use some guidance.” He placed a hand on Mercury’s shoulder, looking him in the eyes.

Mercury scoffer, skeptical to whatever the hell this man meant. “And what exactly do I get out of this?”

The man didn’t budge as he kept his eyes locked on Mercury’s. The mini staring match didn’t last much longer as the man in red started to chuckle. “I’ll tell you kid, even when you’re clearly a foot in the grave you got stones. Tell you what, a better life than what your father could give you is what’s in it for you, especially since you can prove the bastard wrong. All the fighting you can handle, lots of money that you’ll probably never spend in your lifetime, adventure, and my personal chimichanga recipe.”

It all sounded too good to be true, really what else was there for him. His only plans had been to either way for his aura to come back so he’d heal, or just let nature take its course. Really meeting some guy who was trying to kill his dad, and taking him in…it all seemed too good to be true. Then again without many options left, maybe this was destiny….

“Fine whatever, not like I have anything better to do, Red.” Mercury still had some edge to his voice, the kind only youth could provide.

The man in red was amused by this, well as amused as a masked man could be. “Trust me kid, I’m going to change your whole fucking life. Also, the name is Wade, Wade Wilson, but professionally I’m known as Deadpool.”

This earned another snort from Mercury, Deadpool had to be the dumbest codename he’d heard in his life. Then again his father’s ego didn’t let him get a chance to believe in codenames.

“Ok Deadpool, why take me with you?” Mercury still wasn’t seeing the full angle with this guy.

“That’s really simple kid.” Wase said before lifting the mask on his head to reveal his face. To say his face was one of the freakiest things Mercury had ever seen in his life would have been an understatement, whatever happened to this guy he really didn’t want to know.

Deadpool just smirked, as if he could hear Mercury’s thoughts before lowering his mask. “I’ve had some real shit days too, enough to know when someone needs help. Let’s call it my superpower.”

For some reason, a small part of Mercury had needed to hear that. It felt almost like he had someone who understood his pain….not that he’d ever admit it.

Wade started to walk away, and motioned for Mercury to follow. Mercury did, after giving his father’s corpse one last look, following Wade into the forest.

As they started to cross the brush that would take them to the main roads, Wase spoke up again. “Sides kid, another reason is even simpler. No one needs another boring cliche story where I take in and train some blonde kid with a rabbit hoodie to be the opposite of who he’s supposed to be narratively. No one needs more of that edginess.”

Mercury decided to not respond to that, the statement sounded too…metatextual was the word that was coming to his mind for some reason…

[just-jordie-things]

Soulmate Ink - Richie Tozier

word count: 2578 warnings: swearing summary: Soulmates are a tricky thing, because the only real way to find them is by the scars and tattoos they mark on you by marking on themselves.  Lucky your soulmate is a dipshit that gets a very bold tattoo, which makes it a bit easier to track him down.

___

The thing about soulmates, was that they’re simple.  Anything you put on your body, shows up on theirs.  From scars to tattoos, if it was permanent, it would show.

For years, there was nothing on (y/n), and therefore, no reason her parents felt to talk to her about soulmates.  Sometimes they were just so hard to come by, that they’d figured they wouldn’t bring it up until there was a sign that she even had a soulmate.  Some people never found their soulmate, and a life without one is so lonely, so meaningless.  They just didn’t want their little girl to live like that.

Her first mark came when she was thirteen.

It was a quick, sharp pain in the palm of her hand that had shown up one night while at the dinner table.  She had shrieked in pain and surprise, seeing a gash appear across her skin, and her parents had rushed in to find her crying, and blood dripping all over the table cloth.

“Oh sweetheart, what happened?” Her mother had asked, while her father ran off to didn’t the first aid kit.

“I didn’t do it,” (y/n) was crying, “It just- it just happened”

Her father came back in, cleaning up the wound and bandaging her hand while she tried to stop whimpering.  That was the night they first talked about soulmates, and that whoever (y/n’s) was, just had a ghastly accident.

As terrifying as it was to suddenly have a scar across her hand, she spent the rest of the night unwrapping the gauze to look at it, only to re-wrap and overthink about who her soulmate was, and what the hell he was thinking. ___

It wasn’t until four years later that her soulmate was at it again.  And as if the giant scar that ran across the whole of her right palm wasn’t enough, her soulmate got a tattoo.

A tattoo.

Just like always, she was minding her own business, nose in a book in the comfort of her bed, when it started with a sudden prick on her ankle.

It didn’t hurt enough for her to scream, or cry, but she winced, and brushed it off as a weird tingle.

And then, a few seconds later, it started again, this time rapidly, like someone was stabbing her with the world’s tiniest knife, repeatedly.

She dropped her book, and kicked off her blankets to see that there was a line of black ink and a few drops of blood on her skin.

This continued until there was a distinct F inked there on her ankle.

Collected a box of tissues to help clean the blood, she kept watching to see what the hell her soulmate had decided to tattoo on his body. ___

“Really? Richie?” Beverly cringed at the tattoo Richie was showing off on his ankle.

In bold, clear lettering, he’d thought that a tat that said ‘FUCK YOU’ would be cool.  And it was clear that he was pretty proud of it too.

“Wow…” Stan said, eyes wide as he stared at the black ink that Richie was showing off.  “That’s real classy, Richie”

“I think it’s pretty rad,” He said, and cuffed his jeans so they’d raise above the tattoo and he could show it off more.  “Best seventy bucks of my life”

“Not true, dipshit,” Eddie rolled his eyes.  “Do you even know how dirty those needles can be? You could’ve gotten fucking- I don’t know- AIDS or something”

“Shut up Eds.  And for the last time, I don’t have AIDS!”

“W-what about y-your soulmate?” Bill asked.  “Th-they probably aren’t too happy r-right now”

“Good, it’ll help me find em faster,” Richie shrugged.  “Can’t miss them with this printed on their leg”

“Jesus Richie, you branded the poor thing?” Bev sighed, shaking her head at the boy.

“I’m kidding,” He said whilst laughing.  “Come on, if anything, they’ll know now that I’m edgy, and cool”

“Or stupid” Stan muttered.

Truth was, Richie hadn’t really thought about the fact that this tattoo was now marked on someone else’s ankle, somewhere else in the world.  Soulmates weren’t something that crossed his mind much, especially his own.  Deep down, he didn’t think he would be one of the lucky few who actually met their soulmate, and so he hadn’t thought twice about such a bold tattoo.

He wondered now what they’d thought of it.  If it had hurt when he’d gotten it.  It only stung a little on his end, but surely his soulmate was taken by surprise when suddenly  a tattoo showed up on their leg. ___

A few days later, his soulmate struck back.

While at the quarry with the Losers, he felt a sharp pain on his ankle, right next to his tattoo.

It only lasted a few seconds before he got used to it, and it only took a few seconds for him to realize what was happening.  His soulmate was getting a tattoo, right after the ‘you’ in his ‘fuck you’.  

Richie chuckled, wiping away the small amount of blood that appeared from the invisible needle.  Whoever it was, they were something special.

It was just a small, simple black heart.  Right next to his words.  No more, no less.  And it gave him no clue on who they were.

He liked their sense of humor though.  If they had done this as an act of humor, anyways. ___

(y/n) had decided that she was just going to have to find her soulmate.

Not because she wanted to, no, she wanted to find them so she could give them a piece of her mind.

Her act of revenge had done nothing to help her.  She’d been looking at every ankle of every person she saw, and most were bare.  Or they had something lame, like an infinity sign.

(You’d be surprised how many infinity signs she had the displeasure of seeing)

So she did the best thing she could think of to try and find them.

She went to the library.

And she’d been holed up there all day, reading and re-reading the few textbooks they had about soulmates.  The librarians that had originally been confused by her asking about them, but as the hours passed, they just pitied her.

She’d gone through three so far, and so far, she’d found nothing on how to actually find a soulmate.  All of the stories turned to romance novels were about couples finding each other by chance.  Apparently, tracking down your soulmate was nearly impossible.

“Excuse me,” A voice called behind where she stood, studying the books on the shelf with laser vision.  “I need a book that’s right where you’re standing”

(y/n) turned around, finding a boy behind her, a rather tall boy, with too large glasses and too long curly hair.  And for being dressed like a punk, he was cute.

“Sorry” She mumbled, shuffling away so he could take the book he wanted.

“You know anything about soulmates?” He asked, fingers skimming over the spines as he searched for the book he was looking for.

“Wh-what?”

“Obviously you’re curious, you’ve been standing over here for like- a fucking hour”

Her eyes widened for a moment at his language, before nervously laughing.

“No I… actually the problem is I don’t know enough.  I’m trying to find mine, you see”

The stranger laughed, eyes flickering over to hers as he quirked a brow.

“Isn’t that the point?” He asked, and she felt her face go hot with embarrassment.

“Well- I-”

“I’m trying to find mine too, I guess,” He shrugged.  “But that’s a first for me.  I didn’t really care before now”

“You didn’t?” (y/n) asked, and he nodded, finally taking his book off the shelf.  “I just thought… everyone wanted to find their other half”

“Well, it’s near impossible.  Best of luck to you” He said, before turning back to her and giving her a short salute.

Her brows furrowed at the weird act, but she saluted him back, making him chuckle before he walked off.

(y/n) shook her head, and went back to trying to find the right book that she hoped would magically give her the exact location of her soulmate.

As Richie turned to walk around the corner, the girl in the aisle stood on the tips of her toes, reaching for a book on a shelf just above her head.  Normally, he would’ve just checked her out and been on his merry way.

But the cuff of her jeans rode up as she stood on her tiptoes, revealing her ankle.

Or, more specifically, the tattoo on her ankle.

A very distinct, impossible-to-miss, tattoo, that read ‘FUCK YOU’ with a small black heart next to it.

Richie almost puked.

“Hey,” He called out before he could stop himself, and the girl turned to him, that confused look still on her face.  “We’re both researching soulmates so…”

“So?” She repeated, not following.

For a stranger, this guy was very strange.

“So why not do it together?” He offered, and she made a face.

“Really?” She asked disbelievingly.  “Why?”

“I just fucking said- we’re both trying to figure some stuff out it might be easier to do it together”

“Alright,” She shrugged.  “I’ve got a table in the back with some more stuff, if you want to work over there?”

Richie agreed and followed her to the spot she’d been working all day.  Why he hadn’t just come out and told her that he was her soulmate, he wasn’t sure, and was currently kicking himself for it.

“I’m (y/n) by the way” She told him as she sat across from him at the table, a shy sort of smile on her face.

“Richie,” He replied, and stuck his hand out for her to shake.  “My friends call me Trashmouth”

She chuckled, but nonetheless shook his hand.

“So why are you looking for your soulmate?” He asked.  “Just ready to fall deeply and crazily in love?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes, and Richie’s brows furrowed at the action.

“Hell no,” She told him.  “Not yet anyways.  When I meet them, I’m gonna break their frickin’ nose”

Richie scoffed out a laugh, and she looked up at him from the book she was reading.

“What?” She asked innocently.

“Well, usually when people get hellbent on finding their one and only it’s because they’re super lonely and need some lovin’.  But you just wanna beat them up” He gave her a teasing grin, but she just rolled her eyes again.

“Mine’s a psychopath” She muttered.

“Oh?” Richie folded his hands together and set his head atop them, staring at her curiously.  “How so?”

“I just know it”

“Well wouldn’t you be crazy too, then?” He asked.  “Seeing as you’re destined to be together and all”

“Okay, well, I’m not a crazy person, because I would never do this” She stared at him pointedly as she put her shoe on the table, and pulled up the hem of her jeans to show him the tattoo.

Richie smirked looking at it, even though (y/n) had a scowl on her face.

“See that heart there? I added that myself a couple days after the first one showed up” She told him proudly.

“Neat,” He grinned.  “Crazy thing though,” He added, and put his own shoe on the table, pulling up his pant leg to reveal the exact same tattoo.  “I’ve got the same tattoo”

(y/n’s) jaw dropped open, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my god-”

“So do you wanna break my nose now? Or…”

“It’s you?”

“Well don’t sound too lovestruck” He chuckled,putting his foot back on the ground.

“I just- I can’t believe- what’re the odds?” She stammered.

“Well from this book here, about one in thirty,” He said, and she narrowed her eyes at him.  “So, wanna get married?”

“What the hell is the matter with you?” She suddenly declared.  “Getting a tattoo like this? Did you even think first?”

“Sure, about a day” He shrugged.

“Did you think about me? Did you even realize that someone out there was gonna be stuck with this for the rest of their lives too? My life!”

“Okay, you’re screaming in a library now,” Richie chuckled.  “Want to get dinner and you can scream at me some more there?” ___

Three Months Later ___

“So, I can’t believe I never asked,” Beverly spoke from where she sat on the sofa across from (y/n) and Richie.  “How’d you end up meeting, anyways?”

Richie grinned down at the girl that was sitting across his lap, who quietly groaned and rolled her eyes at the look he was giving her.

“It’s such a romantic story,” Richie declared, and his hand held (y/n’s) head against his chest lovingly.  “We met at the library, while this one was trying to find me.  And then she swept me off my feet by threatening to beat me up-”

“Oh my god” Ben’s hushed whisper made Richie crack up, and the other Losers just gave them disbelieving looks.

“Really?” Stan asked, and (y/n) shrugged.

“I wasn’t all too happy about the whole tattoo this dumbass got,” She explained, and the others started to understand.  “I think that my initial… anger… with his is very justified” She said, returning the teasing grin that Richie had previously given her.

“That’s alright.  We want to hit him all the time” Beverly chuckled.

Another round of understanding nods and smiles.

“She makes up for it in bed-”

“Shh” (y/n) hissed, swatting at his chest with the back of her hand, which only made Richie hold her head more securely against him.

“We’re gonna have to fill her in on how the ‘beep beep’ rule works if we want her to stick around” Stan laughed as he spoke.

“Hey! She’s my soulmate, my one and only, she has to stick around!” Richie declared, and (y/n) snuggled deeper into his soft sweater, wrapping her arms around his neck in giving him a cheesy smile.

“Oh, honey,” She spoke pitifully.  “There is definitely a deeper attachment here because I have no clue how we would’ve ended up together anyways”

Richie pulled a face, unsure if that was sweet, or an insult, and (y/n) just giggled, hugging him with a quick squeeze.

“Yeah.  We don’t fuckin’ know either” Eddie said.

“Shut it,” Richie snapped.  “We’re soulmates” He emphasized, cuddling (y/n) impossibly closer to him.

“And how the fuck did you find your soulmate before the rest of us?” Eddie huffed in annoyance.

“Love” Richie said with a big dopey grin.

“And a lot of anger,” (y/n) chimed in.  “Like a lot”

“Got it” Richie muttered.

“Like a really lot.  I wanted to bust your kneecaps first-”

“Got it.”

The teasing was constant, it was probably the most consistent thing about (y/n) and Richie’s relationship.  Except for the excessive need to be around each other, and the touching ((y/n) always said it was Richie, but she couldn’t go five minutes without some form of physical attention either, he liked to tease her about that).  They were an unlikely pair, and if they hadn’t been soulmates, neither were sure they’d ever cross paths.  But neither couldn’t have gone the rest of their life without the other in it.

And now at the ripe young age of eighteen, and had the rest of forever to spend together. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[rootiebaga]

nobody asked, i know, but heres my departments thus far! (with nicknames, of course)

note! i do use mods, one of them being the ultimate fashion corp mod from reddit, a mod that lets you keep your employees after you reset a run, and some other useful ones

also its under the cut because uh- long

control team! (aka the OGS! (because control team is the first department people unlock when starting a run))

morty (former employee)

-may the brave fool rest, gone, but not forgotten.

rootieee (captain)

-its, its my self insert what do i have to sa

paul

-the most boring in the facility (and the most sane one in the department,)

-just wants to do his job correctly.

-not much to say about him, really

maxim (morty’s replacement after he died, rest in piece morty, you were a brave hero, yet a little dumb after trying to fight a green dawn in the early runs i had)

-morty’s big bro, a little sad that morty died but he didn’t know all that much in the facility,

-takes his job too seriously

-usually chills in the main room alot,

shao

-an absolutely innocent baby, even if they some horrifying abnormalities, they would still think of them as cute

-just, likes being here, many friends for them!

-they also like hugs!

igoree (rip)

-the sleepy employee has come back! wowie

-still sleepy and also hungry,

-the one who doesn’t work all that much

-..”how did she.. die? did she just want to? what in the world happened there? is it because of that behaviour adjustment thing?”

“just forget about it and keep working,”

“but, paul im curious-”

“quiet.”

eden

-woooooo returning!

-one of the calmest people in the department

-probably wouldn’t even be phased by the effect [CENSORED] gives her if we had it

“hey uh, eden? i got something to tell you..”

“go on shao,”

“didn’t... something happen to you? h-how are you even-”

“hey hey, dont worry about that! just, make sure you stay safe, alright?”

information team! (aka the threeks! (named by tom, who is dead, an idiot, and couldn’t count))

tom (dead)

-an idiot

-okay moving on

ryn

-the only one with aleph gear, seriously (edit (draft edition): hes the first one with aleph gear after i got nothing there’s gear, the second being daniel)

-chill once you get to know him,

-likes protecting others with his gear, since, you know

mason

-usually anxious, he doesn’t mean to be though!

-”alright calm down.. never mind this is not the time to calm dOW-”

-probably likes ryn??

eugene

-a little bit crazy, yet kind nonetheless! 

-hi

-just wants some friends, unfortunately not many people are willing to befriend her due to her kinda crazy nature

-basically someone who cares for everyone in the facility, y e e

(also whats known as a “bow kinnie” to the control team captain) /j

emma

-looks really kind until you try to talk to her, shes an asshole is what im trying to say

-likes to bite things with the sharp teeth she has, because why not

-absolute chaos

ray

-i dont know why she exists, shes just there

safety team! (aka the wind wielders (named by isabel, cause he likes flutes))

isabel

-brother of gregory

-the second innocent bean,,

-likes playing the flute whenever hes done for the day

-i accidentally gave him crumbling armour’s gift

gregory

-brother of isabel

-prefers acting over playing instruments,

-a bit more serious,

neville (prefers nelville)

-an absolutely tired employee, they just like waiting till everyone is done for the day to go home

-they’d be at home if they weren’t forced by their friend to work here

-hates everything right now

ramirez

-the joyful friend

-wanted to work here because of the people here, so many unique faces!

-likes all things unique, she usually loves trying different things that look nothing alike from the things she tried before

khanna

-the mute employee in the facility, uses notes to communicate

-another sane one, yet still kinda nervous

-a bean

training team! (aka “nobody here is fine” (named for the fact that almost everyone is very nervous, and then we got firenze))

hana

-the one thats sad most of the time

-really helpful for when it comes to working on abnormalities!

-gregory has a crush on them (why would you say tha)

sobin

-before you think of him as edgy, hes not all that edgy personality wise, he just likes the aesthetic

-hes just a really chill and friendly dude

-yes, he can see more with the e.g.o outfit hes wearing, it is pretty strange to him though

firenze

-the narcissist, he really thinks hes the king of this department

-hes wrong its actually hana thats the captain of this department

-nobody likes him

daniel

-actually used to be a clerk! the face was a little different then before but hey, thats fine

-the third pure bean

-hes a really good friend to have!

susan

-what can i say about her?

-well i mean

-shes susan

central command team! (aka where is everyone? (due to there being not many agents here))

geminiano

-the most sane one in the facility (while being the dead inside captain)

-really good when it comes to tech

-”oh sh** did anyone check on mika?”

charlotte

-the bald employee, doesn’t mind being bald, that just means she can take care of the “your bald” abnormality

-”ignore the second mouth i got on my armour, please”

-plays vibe games on roblox

mika

-absolutely. chill

-doesn’t know where he’s going most of the time

-the one that works on child of galaxy everytime

gimtteol

-really bad sight, she doesn’t mind it

-kalm

-nobody can spell her name right

arang (prefers ayang)

-you thought sobin was the edgelord huh? think again

-easily annoyed.

-also was a clerk before

john

-the newbie!

-hes trying okay?

-hes still a little nervous but thats fine!

disciplinary team! (aka f**k (also nicknamed “why do we have red” due to me choosing little red riding hooded mercenary every run where theres disciplinary))

ara

-angy

-another person that takes their job way too seriously but doesn’t mean to

-not really that rude sometimes, but most of the time she can be a bit of an asshole, probably because of something that happened in the past, nobody wants to talk about it though

-lesbian

camille

-has a slightly torn snake tongue, it makes them not able to speak, they mostly make noises like growling,

-nobody knows why their like this, they just are, but dont be afraid to talk to them if you need anything! they usually write what their trying to say

-the expert, especially at finding things, even if they cant speak

tim

-another returning employee! wooooo

-still dead inside, but feeling a little bit better!

-might be the oldest out of everyone

welfare team! (aka “sleep tight” (nobody knows why its called that)

space

-very calm, most of the time doesn’t mind anything, but still does get a little nervous at times

-nobody knows why her eyes are always closed, (ara specified that her eyes look like a galaxy that can only be opened for a couple of seconds because if she opens them for more than a few seconds they’ll start to glitch, when others see it happening, it looks like the galaxy is becoming more like an image other than a real galaxy, parts of the galaxy become misplaced and reverted back to their original place quickly repeatedly (kinda like the select thing in paint, usually in the shape of the rectangular selection though) and parts of the galaxy turn into static and back very quickly and repeatedly. we she sees it happening her vision becomes the same as how other people see the galaxy when it starts glitching, randomly shifting from original place to different place, or from static back to normal, some ominous, glitchy sounds have been heard when this is happening aswell, (i thought of this because of a small dream(?) i had when i was in a certain state of almost about to fall asleep, maybe i was napping i dont really know, it was a strange dream, i dont remember much of it which is expected, i think it was something about discord and some sort of strange thing that had a little timer on it, and after it was done the thing it was in started glitching, the background it was in and even the button that used to be the timer was glitching, i heard some sounds that were glitching a little (it looked like those screens you see when someone’s streaming something on there,) and then i woke up, yeah kinda weird,)

-like eugene, cares for everyone! especially ara, since space herself is the one who helps ara through tough times

courtney

-gets bored alot, just wants to work on the difficult abnormalities

-really snarky

johnson

-a smartass

-yet still a little friendly if they trust you

-i’ll upgrade them soon dont worry (i have upgraded them/him dont worry)

,

woop!

i’ll probably update this soon, but in the meantime have this, sorry for being dead lately, on both this and my sideblog

[enbycalicocat]

Day 9: 4th of February, 2021

.

It was that date again. To be honest, I should come more often than once a year, but it still hurt so much. Pain and me did not get along well, and that was why I could only do this every 365 days or so.

 The flowers were heavy and wet in my arms, and I wondered if the people from the store remembered me. I didn’t think so. The past two years I’d come, there had been a new person behind the counter. Which was sort of bad for them I guess, always having to interview people and train new employees.

As I got near the plot I noticed that there was someone sitting on top of her tomb. Who in the world was this? Who did he think he was, sitting on top of my mother’s freaking tomb like it’s some bench in a park? Wrath coursed through my veins and clouded my sight. The disrespect, for crying out loud. The woman that gave me life laid under his damn bum.

 “Excuse me,” I asked the nearest attendant. “Who is that? And, why has nobody said something to him? He can’t just sit on top of the graves, can he?”

 The woman turned her head and saw the direction I was pointing at. Her eyes widened when she saw the man, and then she turned to look at me, her eyes still wide.

 “That man in the blue coat?” she asked.

 “Yes, the man in the blue coat.” Do you see another man sitting on a grave in the direction I’m pointing at?! I was so annoyed. But I had to be respectful. I had to be polite.

 “Ah, he comes every day, and spends all the day here. You can go talk to him if he’s bothering you.” The woman gave me a look, a deep look, as if she was trying to understand me.

Then she left. Just like that.

 Ugh. I swear, if it hadn’t been my mom’s damn last wishes, I would’ve buried her somewhere else.

 Stomping my way over to the rude guy, I decided that this was actually a good thing, that way I would get to give him a piece of my mind. This was the world giving me a chance to teach someone a lesson. I should say thank you to that incompetent worker for leaving me to solve this.

 “Hey,” I cried as I was getting closer. The guy didn’t react at all.

Acting dumb. The bastard. As if I could possibly be talking to someone else. The cemetery was empty!

 “I said, hey!” I huffed as I grabbed his shoulder. That startled him. Startled him bad. The gasp, the wide eyes, and the fifty-meters-into-the-air jump and everything. I couldn’t have cared less even if I tried. The guy was an asshole, it had been decided by me a long time ago, so whatever he got, he deserved.

 The guy just stared at me for the longest time, my anger growing with each second that went by.

 “M-me?” he finally stuttered.

 “No, the ghost behind you. Yes, you! You with the blue coat, you with the tan button shirt. You with the black trousers. You the freaking asshole that was sitting on my mother’s grave. You, fucking you, and nobody else!”

 His eyes widened, and then he ran. He ran right past me. So, fast I couldn’t even react.

 “Where do…” I asked as I turned around. But he was nowhere to be seen. “What? Where did he go? Stupid jerk actually hiding from me. Man up and face the consequences of your acts!”

 A year went by, and it was time to visit my mother again. I bought flowers at the same store. A different cashier was working in this occasion too. It was the same drive to the same plot.

 But he was there again. Sitting on my mother’s grave. Again.

I normally didn’t remember people that well, much less people I just saw once. But I had been so angry that day. There was no getting that blue coat out of my mind.

 “Hey, you jerk in the blue coat!”

 The man flinched visibly and turned around. When he saw me fiercely walking over to him, he jumped up quickly and ran away again. I tried to chase, but there was no sign of him. Why does this bastard keep on running? I wanna tell him off so bad! And I had been unable to do it for a whole year! And this year I wouldn’t be able to either! What am I supposed to do with all the words I’d prepared?

 When I ran into the same man for the third consecutive year, I didn’t have the energy to get angry anymore. It had been almost five years since my mother died. I was almost thirty. My anger at the world for the unfairness of taking my mother away from me before I was ready had faded. Instead, I was just exhausted.

 I walked over to the grave, wet uncomfortable flowers in my arms, bought at the same store (same cashier from last year, though).

 “Could you not sit on her grave?” The words were expelled as I exhaled tiredly.

 The man flinched visibly again and turned to look at me with wide eyes.

 “Please. This is my mother’s grave. Can you not sit on top of her?”

 He got up quickly and I kneeled on the ground with a sigh, putting the new flowers in the vase encased into the top of the tomb.

 “She… Umm… You… Er… This flowers are pretty. Please bring more of them.”

 “I always bring her flowers. You know this, you’ve seen me.”

 “Ah. Yes. But… This… This exact type of flowers. Bring them again next year. And all the coming years. They’re very pretty. Prettier than the ones you’ve brought before.”

 What the hell kind of gibberish was this guy spewing?

 Turning my head up, I gave him a quizzical look. My original plan was to snap at him, but he looked so uncomfortable, so fidgety, so edgy, that I just looked back down at the grave again.

 “Sure, buddy, whatever you say.”

 “Tha-thank you very much. Uh, bye then.”

 He didn’t have to leave, and as I raised my head to say this, he had already left.

Weirdo.

 The sixth time I went to see my mom at the cemetery I could only think of him. Would he be there this year too? The only time I focused on the world around me was when I chose the flowers, taking care to pick the same ones for last year. Other than that, I didn't notice anything else. Not the cashier, not the drive, not the walk to the plot. Would he be there?

 He was. He was there. Sitting on her grave again.

 That year something finally clicked. Maybe he came to visit my mom. I wasn’t entirely sure how they knew each other, but since he was here every time I came, it was the only explanation. I mean, he clearly knew my mother’s birthday and came every year.

 “Hi.” This year I was even more tired than the past. So tired that even the flowers in my arm felt unbearably heavy. “Thank you for always coming on her birthday. She must appreciate it.”

 He flinched again, but less than previous years. The man turned to look at me.

 “He-hello.” He began fidgeting again. His eyes darted around like a nervous hamster, until they rested on the bouquet. He smiled radiantly and excitedly stared into my eyes. “You bought them! Just like she… Uh, like… Er, the prettier flowers. You bought them. Thank you.”

 He was happy as if the flowers were for him and not for my mom. And I understood nothing. What was this guys deal?

 Not gonna lie though. His happiness was contagious.

 “You said the others I bought were ugly, so of course, I bought the pretty ones again.”

 Was I teasing him? Why? What for?

 The guy immediately became flustered, stuttering all over the place.

“She-she didn’t… I di-didn’t… My-my words we-were…”

 “I know. Relax. It was a joke.”

 Was that a smile on my face as I placed the flowers in the vase? Well… I guess he was amusing. Or, teasing him was amusing.

 “Ah,” I sighed, looking up at the scorching sun. “Its boiling today. And it should be fresh or slightly cold. The flowers will die quickly like this.”

 Looking over to where he was standing, I froze. The tombstone had a shadow. The trees had shadows. The bushes had shadows. The bouquet had a shadow. I had a shadow. But the guy didn’t. The man standing in front of me didn’t have a damn shadow. In fact, as I watched his feet and the ground he was standing on, there was another revelation. The grass around where he stood wasn’t crushed.

 “Ah, could you move a bit to the side?” I asked calmly. As if I encountered people that didn’t affect the grass they stepped on and had no shadows every day. “There’s something there.”

 He moved to one side as I asked. The grass that had been under his feet was intact.

 Memories flashed by my mind. He comes every day, and spends all the day here. When he’d left all the previous years, I never once heard his steps. He looked the same year after year while I gained more and more wrinkles. The weird petition to buy specific flowers. The happiness when I did as he asked. The 'she' he kept mentioning.

 “Did my mom like the flowers?”

 “Yes!” he said happily. “She liked them very…”

 I looked up at him when he fell silent, and found him staring into my eyes for the first time since our chance encounter. His eyes were wide with the same fear from that first time we met.

 “Is she here right now?” I asked, voice trembling. “Can she hear me? Can she see me?”

 It took a while before he answered, but he did at some point.

 “Yes, she’s sitting on the grave.” And he pointed to the place right next to where he always sat.

 So, he’d been talking to her. I just couldn’t see her. Only him.

 “Mo-mom.” My throat felt so tight. My eyes began to itch with unshed tears. “I love you mom. I’m sorry for what I said… you know… Right before… I’m sorry mom. I don’t blame you for anything. I don’t hate you.”

 Not being able to hold back any longer, I began sobbing.

 “I’m so-sorry mom. Okay? I love-love-love you. I-I miss you-you,” I choked out through the ugly crying sounds I was making.

 “She says she loves you back. And she thanks you very much for bringing her favorite flowers.”

 It was a long time before I could finally breathe without choking and hiccupping. Looking around, the man in the blue coat was still there.

 “Thank you,” he said softly. And they sounded like the most heart-felt words I’d ever heard. “She has gone to rest now. She finally went off to be reborn. And it’s all thanks to your words.”

 There were so many things I could’ve said. So many things I could’ve asked. But none of those were what burbled out of my throat.

 “You’ll be lonely now that she’s gone, won’t you?”

 He was taken aback. But then he smiled embarrassedly.

 “I… I will… It’s not… Um. Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be lonely now. Everyone else here has either moved on, or have been alone here so long they’re not logical anymore.”

 “They fired me a few years ago. Told me to deal with my anger problems or something. Haven’t bothered to find anything else since then. The depression was just too crippling. I can easily live out the rest of my life with the money I have saved up. Because I was too busy making dollars to live. I guess, now that decision will come in handy. And now I’m ranting. Okay. So. The point is, I’ll come keep you company.”

 What kind of gibberish was I spewing now? What the hell type of hare-brained…

 “I’d really like that.”

 He had no idea what he was agreeing to.

 “I’m not very good company. I’m grumpy. And I have anger management problems. And I’ve been depressed for years now. And I’m not that good at talking. And I won’t…”

 “I still appreciate it. Because you want to be here. Talking to me. Most of the entities I talk to don’t come here willingly. They’re here because they have no choice. But you want to come. Out of your own volition.”

 What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

 “So, what’s your name?” I gave him a sideways look and he smiled shyly.

 “I can’t remember. In fact, I can’t remember the last time someone asked for my name either.”

 “Ah, well then,” I said, the gears in my mind turning quickly, “I’ll call you Charlie.”

 “Charlie,” he mused. “I like it! Thank you.”

 Another radiant smile. I looked away because it was too blinding. This guy was too thankful. How lonely had he been all these years? Suddenly, I felt grateful too. For meeting him. Else he might stop being logical too, and… I don’t know, become like the other ghosts that he couldn’t converse with. He hadn’t said, but I felt becoming like them wasn’t a good thing.

 “Where is your grave?”

 “I can’t remember that either. If I did, I would see the tombstone and read my original name." He laughed at my silly question, and I couldn't blame him. That had not been one of my best moments.

 I looked at the grave in front of us, under us, and an idea came to me.

 “I’m sure my mom liked you very much if she has been talking to you all these years. So, you can share her grave and tombstone. I’m sure she would be happy to give you a place to call yours. She always had this need to take in strays.”

 This way you can sit on the grave all you want, since now it’s yours as well.

 “Thank you.” One more radiant smile. This one made my chest feel warm. And the corners of my lips curled slightly up. “You know, your mother told me a lot about you. She loved talking about the stuff you have achieved. Like your degree in…”

 As I listened to Charlie talk, a thought occurred to me. It seemed I had inherited my mom’s need to take in strays. And now I understood why she did it.

.

.

Prompt:

9. Write about a chance encounter at a cemetary.

.

Previous Day Next Day

[parab0mb]

I live!

So... yeah, after about 3 and a half months of complete silence, I’m back. I know taking forever to upload anything new is a pretty common occurrence for me, but the whole summer is admittedly long even by my standards. Despite recently graduating I think a combination of career-hunting and depression siphoned any motivation I had to accomplish anything these past few months. I’m still busy with work and looking for a career but I’m at least feeling slightly more motivated now, at least enough to attempt to get back into a drawing mood, even if it’s nothing substantial.

Anyway, since I’ve had my OC Lilian on the brain for a while now, I figured I should draw her alongside the rest of the core cast for her story. Originally I was considering making a reference sheet for all of them (and I still might someday) but the aforementioned bout of depression combined with my usual laziness kept that from going anywhere, so instead I decided to draw them all together, so that I can have their designs all down on paper (this is also a personal ref for me to help remember their heights). Can’t say all the names/designs are set in stone but it’s a start.

Now then, wall-of-text character description time!:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Lilian Liao - An eleven-year old tomboy who seems to attract paranormal activity like a magnet, Lilian was hoping that moving to a new town would bring a sense of normalcy to her life. However, she quickly learns from her new neighbors (who happen to be a family of witches) that she is a medium who is fated to attract all manner of weirdness to herself no matter where she goes. On the other hand, while she may not be able to "turn off" her powers, she can learn to pacify and resolve the issues of the various supernatural entities she regularly encounters.

Impatient, ill-tempered, and a bit of a bully at times, Lilian's bad attitude tends to clash with her powers and she often makes a bad situation worse for herself because of it. Fortunately, with the help of the witch family next door, a wannabe conspiracy theorist, and a possessed talisman, Lilian may yet learn to control her powers (and temper) and find peace in her hectic life.

      ~ Ling's Talisman - Given to Lilian by her new witch neighbor Medea, the Talisman is an artifact of unknown origins capable of siphoning and amplifying magical power. However, upon receiving it Lilian quickly discovers the Talisman houses one other secret: a lingering fragment of its previous owner's soul. This previous owner, known only as Ling, was a medium just like Lilian but seems to have forgotten much about himself after lying dormant inside the Talisman for hundreds of years.

Ling is (understandably) bitter about his current, body-less state of being, and is apparently just as stubborn and hotheaded as Lilian, meaning the two are constantly butting heads with one another. Still, believing that Lilian's powers may be the key to exorcising himself from the talisman, Ling reluctantly agrees to teach her better control of her powers for their mutual benefit.

       ~ Devin Liao - Lilian's older brother; presents himself as a rebellious and edgy punk but isn't quite as deep as he thinks he is. Him and Lilian don't get along very well, and regularly belittle and argue with each other. While Devin is one of the few normal humans in Lilian's life who actually acknowledges all the paranormal activity that surrounds her, he does little to actually help her deal with it and will even complain if it begins to inconvenience him (even though she has little control over such things).

Still, in spite of their frequent bickering Devin does genuinely care about Lilian and will help her without a second thought should she find herself in legitimate trouble. And even without any supernatural powers of his own he proves himself to be surprisingly adept with confronting the paranormal (when forced to do so).

      ~ Hui Liao - Lilian’s and Devin’s father, Hui does his best to strike a balance between his demanding engineering career and being a reliable single parent, to which he is mostly successful. Hui has an almost unwavering levelheadedness and rarely ever grows impatient with his children's antics and bickering (while still knowing when to put his foot down and keep the two from tearing each other apart). He also does his best to support his kid’s interests, even if he doesn’t always understand them or unintentionally embarrasses them.

Unfortunately, Hui’s demanding career leaves him little time to physically be with his family, and despite his efforts to support Lilian and Devin he clearly does struggle to relate to their interests or help resolve their personal issues.  Lilian in particular is distressed by her inability to prove the existence of the paranormal to her dad; while he would never scold her for claims of ghosts and monsters being real, as a man of science and reason Hui struggles to accept her seemingly baseless claims and chalks it all up to her simply having a vivid imagination.

      ~ Wally Peskon - A wannabe paranormal investigator and the closest thing Lilian has to a non-magic friend, 11-year old Wally quickly gravitated towards Lilian due to their like-minded fixation on proving they aren't crazy to the rest of the world. And at first Lilian was actually elated to meet a regular human who's observant of the paranormal, but her mood quickly changed when she realized he's a hack who gets caught on bogus conspiracy theories and completely overlooks real supernatural activity happening right in front of him. Not to mention he's frantic, clumsy, and a busybody, making just as much of a headache as the supernatural beings that are always bothering her.

Fortunately, Lilian and her unwanted paranormal company helps Wally improve his perception of what is and isn't real (somewhat), and he slowly begins to get better at recognizing and even helping Lilian resolve supernatural phenomena. He also has a habit of buying or cobbling together seemingly useless pieces of anti-paranormal equipment that sometimes end up saving the day. Sometimes.

     ~ Wednesday "Wendy" Cauldrison - Lilian's new neighbor and the 8-year old daughter of Medea Cauldrison, Wendy is a hyperactive and spontaneous witch-in-training who’s obsessed with all things cute and glimmering. Heavily sheltered from non-magic culture by her mother, Wendy quickly takes a liking to her new neighbor Lilian, who offers her a chance to hang out with normal humans and partake in non-magic activities. Unfortunately, while Wendy usually means well, her overambitious nature combined with the haphazard use of her magic often exacerbates Lilian's paranormal problems, and as such Lilian (at least initially) isn't exactly eager to let Wendy tag along with her.

Like her mother, Wendy's magical expertise mainly involves brewing up potions, powders, and other concoctions to cast spells. However, her lack of experience means a lot of her brews don't come out quite right and have unpredictable effects, while the few brews she actually does have a grasp on are only good at making things prettier or making them explode violently, with no in-between.

     ~ Medea Cauldrison - The mother of Wendy Cauldrison, Medea is a coven-less but highly experienced witch living in plain sight within Lilian’s new neighborhood (although she hardly has to try to keep it a secret). Despite appearances, she's over 600 years old and has traveled a good portion of the multiverse. And yet, in spite of her vast experience with all things magic, she knows surprisingly little about the culture and technology of humans, as she has a bit of a superiority complex towards them and tries to avoid interacting with them when possible (even going so far as to forbid Wendy from experiencing most of the human world for herself).

While Medea may not hold humanity in high regard, it can’t be denied that she’s still fairly knowledgeable of all things magic, and she’s highly understanding of Lilian's plight and (usually) willing to help her out. Combined with the fact that she's competent enough in her magic to ward off many of the more threatening paranormal creatures out there, she's certainly one of the more reliable personalities in Lilian's new neighborhood. Medea’s magical expertise revolves around nature and potions; she can not only conjure and manipulate plants but with the right ingredients can brew up all manner of potions and powders to suit any situation.

[fizzyhosh]

Binding

Chapter Five

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five

Summary: Remus likes things predictable, orderly, and punctual. His comfort-zone is compromised when he meets (Y/N), a girl who is indifferent, spontaneous, and not outwardly friendly. Despite their obvious differences, he can’t seem to stay away from her, even when they aren’t working side-by-side at the most boring job on the planet.

Word Count: 1269

A/N: HONESTLY it’s been a minute since I’ve posted any fic, let alone a part of Binding. Please forgive me. I’m literally the WORST. I hope this is good enough for you to forgive me ! Also, only ONE MORE PART of this series!!! 

•••••

bind·ingˈbīndiNG

noun 

1. a strong covering holding the pages of a book together.

adjective 

1. (of an agreement or promise) involving an obligation that cannot be broken.

•••••

"You don't have work today," Sirius reminded, glancing over his bowl.

"I know..." Remus said slowly as he bent down and scanned the contents of the fridge.

"Then why are you leaving?"

He stood up slightly and peeked over the door at Sirius. "Am I only allowed to leave the house for work?"

"I mean," he paused to swallow his food before continuing, "you never left the house before you got the job."

"Fair point. It's nice outside today, though."

Sirius frowned. "Are you keeping a secret?" He perked up. "Are you going to see Y/N? Outside of work? Like a date?"

"No." Remus shut him down quickly. "Why do you seem so disappointed by that?"

"You like her and I want you two to hit it off."

"We're friends, Sirius. She has a boyfriend and I'm not a home wrecker. We are going somewhere but it's not a date, alright?

Sirius tried holding back his large grin. "Have fun, mate."

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I'm just excited for you to start living your best life. I also can't wait for her to realize you two are perfect for each other. Just all around excited."

"You're starting to sound likes James. Go back to the edgy Sirius we all know and love. I'll be back later this afternoon."

"Bye, loverboy."

Remus flipped him off and got on his bike, making his way to where he and Y/N agreed to meet up. He waited a while, wondering if he misread the time they were supposed to meet. He pulled out his phone, alternating between rereading "noon" in the text and looking at the time at the top of his screen. It was close to 12:45 and he was about to head home, only partly devastated that the love of his life didn't show up. That was a an understatement, he was definitely heartbroken.

As he got back on his bike, Y/N yelled across the small park. Remus looked up to see her disheveled and upset. He dropped his bike as she approached him and almost knocked him over as a constant stream of words flowed out of her mouth.

"I can't believe you waited, I'm so sorry I'm late, my alarm didn't go off because my phone died and since my phone died I couldn't text you and I was just hoping you were still here because I value our friendship and ohmygosh I can't believe you're actually still here."

Remus put his hands on Y/N's arms, smiling lightly. "First, breathe."

Y/N nodded and breathed deeply.

"Second, of course I waited. I value our friendship too. And considering how many times you've almost been late to work, I figured you'd be late to this as well." That was only a small lie. He did expect her to be a little late, but not 45 minutes. He also was just trying to calm down the sound of raging butterflies at the "I value our friendship" part by cracking a joke, which worked for a moment until she smiled and riled up the butterflies again. Remus dropped his hands, hoping the lack of contact might settle the noise in his head.

"You are really the nicest person I have ever met."

That felt like a friendzone sentence, which really helped the butterfly noise situation because they immediately stopped, an aching heart replacing the wild animals.

"You look like you need a coffee."

"Yes, I do," Y/N said, leading them to the coffee shop across the street. They talked for a while until their presence was considered loitering and had to find a new place to chat.

Remus liked how easy it was to get lost in a conversation with her. Unfortunately, he was so comfortable that he let words slip that he never intended Y/N to hear.  

"My anniversary is tomorrow and I still have no idea what to do," Y/N said with a sigh as they walked around the park, admiring the weather and nature.

Remus bit his lip, not a fan of this conversation. Y/N's boyfriend really seemed like a piece of trash. "Well tomorrow is doomed for me too. Lily's party." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked the ground.

Y/N nodded. "We should just convince the world tomorrow is cancelled so neither of us have to do our stupid things."

"There must be something that makes you look forward to your anniversary?" Remus prompted as he looked at her sideways.

She sighed and paused for a long time before asking, "Do you think I should break up with him?"

He was taken aback. Here he had the chance to give great advice that would make her break up with her boyfriend, but instead, he let slip the dumbest thing he could have.

"Well, to be honest, I might not have started checking out so many books in the first place if I knew you had a boyfriend, so yeah." His eyes widened as she frowned.

"What?" she asked with a small, confused laugh.

"Uh.."

"Wait... did you only go to the bookstore because I worked there?"

"Y/N, it's not as weird as it sounds."

"Really, Remus? Because it sounds like you stalked me until I offered you a job."

He shook his head vigorously. "No, it's not like that."

"Then what exactly did you do?"

"Look," he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Just let me say what I need to say and then you can fire me and block my number and do whatever else you want. I'm going to be 100 percent honest right now."

Y/N crossed her arms, looking insecure now that she discovered Remus didn't just come into the bookstore because he read super fast. One of the only people she felt she could trust these days didn't seem to be who he said he was.

"I've never been very outgoing or friendly or fluent with words. The first time I saw you, I was completely speechless at how beautiful you were. I couldn't think of the right words to say to you so I just left. The thing is, Y/N, I've never had trouble forgetting about random people or getting thoughts out of my mind but you drove me crazy from the moment I saw you. I couldn't even watch The Princess Bride because I could only think about all the things I could have and should have said to you in the bookstore. So I went back the next day, ready to say all these amazing things but you had your hair up and you looked so perfect that all my confidence just erased completely from existence. I know it sounds crazy but I kept checking out books so I had an excuse to go back and talk to you, but I just could never find the right words to say to you. After I found out you had a boyfriend, I swear I never intended to ruin that or anything. I meant what I said earlier. I do value our friendship. A lot."

He waited and scanned Y/N's face for any hint of any emotion. He'd even be fine with her being royally pissed if he could just tell what she was thinking.

"I have to go," she mumbled simply, emotionless. "Thanks for being honest with me."

Remus stood as he watched her walk to her car, running her hands through her hair. He felt a few tears fall as she drove off, wondering in what world would things have been different?

He got on his bike and rode home, trying to make it back before he started spiraling. Remus' spiral of emotions was something best experienced in the safety of a house with his best mates there to look after him.

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[thats-the-teen-spirit]

Slipknot - We Are Not Your Kind album review

My first impression when I heard about the new Slipknot album coming was that they’ll never outgrow themselves when it comes to writing songs. They’ll never go full experimental and throw a bunch of random shit to their songs to make it either poppier or even heavier. Turns out they can, but the pop aspect is still far from them.

We are not your kind is named after All Out Life, the first single they put out in 3 years. That song however didn’t make it to the album because the band (probably mostly Corey Taylor himself) thought that it didn’t fit the story and the mood of the whole album, but the chant towards the end of the song made it to be their new album’s title. It sounds like an edgy emo band’s new single at first but honestly that chant is gonna be the greatest thing to sing and scream live.

Insert Coin, the first track of the album is the usual Slipknot intro, it’s creepy, it’s dark, it makes no sense, just like on their previous albums. With intros like  742617000027, (515), or .execute they already made it clear that they’re going back to their roots with the random noises instead of a song as an introduction.

Unsainted, the first single from the album divided the band’s oldest fans when it came out. It has a choir in it which makes it a little Ghost-like, semi-satanic (the lyrics imply that as well) and creepy, especially when after the choir and the clean buildup the songs blasts like crazy. Ghost isn’t known for the aggression Slipknot has that’s for sure but after the first scream Corey lets us know that they’re not going to play poppier, they play the same shit, they just wanted something to spice it up. The chorus is clean, catchy, the riffs are the usual Slipknot quality, the drums are banging, the breakdown is heavy, everything you’d expect from them as they march towards the catharsis of the song when Corey screams: YOU’VE KILLED THE SAINT IN ME.

Birth Of The Cruel is the third single, came out right before the album dropped. It’s probably the most old-school-ish Slipknot song they wrote since the Vol 3. days. It has the thing that Corey did best on their first two albums which is that Nu metal buildup that goes from silently whispering, to talking or rapping and then screaming. Sounds like a mix of Scissors and I am hated in my opinion but I might have overlooked the lyrics a little bit. The headbanging breakdown is great, the sampler sounds from Sid give this song a Self-titled feel. A solid song they’ll play live for sure.

Death Because of Death, is an interlude that is simple, short and experimental. Corey said they tried this because if this fits in the right moments, ‘you’ve really got something’. I don’t think this song will be played often but if it hypes up the crowd it might as well just work.

Nero Forte is my favorite so far, but I don’t think “trve maggots” will appreciate this one. The intro sounds like a melodic death metal song with Slipknot drums, then it turns into the usual riffage from Mick and Jim with the scream-rapping from Corey, nothing special in the first minute, then the buildup, aaaaaaand, a really clean, high-pitched chorus. What. I was so surprised when I heard this first, I was genuinely smiling on the bus and people thought I was crazy. Then of course the chorus has the same Corey screaming/rapping as usual, the bridge is cathartic, what more do you want really. Unites both the new and the old direction and fans.

Critical Darling starts off as an old-school Slipknot song, same riffage, same buildup-scream and old school scream-rap verses. The prechorus has that walking feel to it, as if you’re slowly building up your speed as you try to run away from something. The chorus sounds like it came from an idea Corey had for Stone Sour but somehow it didn’t make it to Hydrograd. The clean interludes in the song has AHIG vibes (remind me of the bridge of Dead Memories). For some reason it closes off with random noises I never understand in Slipknot songs, I guess when they’ll play this song live they’ll have time for a beer when it plays.

A Liar’s Funeral might be the most experimental thing on the record. First I had the feeling of Snuff, with the depressing acoustic intro and Corey’s sad lyrics with pure clean vocals. Then it takes a weird turn as he sceams LIAR, the depressive acoustic guitars in the background turn almost creepy with the heavy guitars in front, sounds like Corey’s in pain but in a melancholic way. The bridge where he screams: BURN, BURN, BURN THE LIAR is gonna be screamed by the maggots who feel like they’ve been betrayed that’s for sure. The song then turns into a weird hybrid of a usual Slipknot heavy song with a cool solo and an emotional end. I had the ‘Killpop’ vibes with this song but with more random shit thrown together.

Red Flag is the most boring song for me on this album. Yes, it has the same riffs, yes, it has the screams, yes it has no clean chorus. Honestly it sounds like The Negative One part 2. It’s most likely a filler song they might play once or twice live but will never make huge success. If I’m wrong that’s because the fans of AHIG and .5 are hyping up this song too much because it sounds like from those records and they have the nostalgic feel to them.

What’s Next is an elevator song interlude. That’s it. Towards the end it gets louder and guitars come in as if something big and spooky is about to happen as you get out of the elevator.

Spiders starts off with a piano intro and Corey singing to a weird time signature. Corey’s vocals are mixed and mastered great on this one, I can’t even decide if it has those creepy vibes or it sounds like Stone Sour went progressive metal. Definitely a cool song to have on here, a little bit experimental, a little bit new, the same catchiness, the same feeling on the clean vocals, It’s like a creepy depressive little brother of the Vermillion songs. 

Orphan is another song they’ll play live for sure. Slow noisy intro, usual Slipknot riffs, great chorus. A little higher pitched than Unsainted, a little less than Nero forte. It really speaks to the outcasts of society. The emo kids are gonna lose their shit if they hear the lines: EVERONE HAS SOMETHING, SOMEONE HERE HAS EVERYTHING. The breakdown is solid with vocals that go from talking to screaming, great to hype up the crowd just before the end of the show for the last bits and the encore.

My Pain is another experimental piece. If i want to put it in words it’s like a mix of What’s Next and Spiders. Gives me Danger/Keep Away vibes as well, just to make sure we have every album united on this one. It’s the last calm before the storm before the end of the album and it fits really well.

I can only imagine the writing process of Not Long For This World. Nine masked guys sitting around a table and each one of them has an idea. In the end it gets thrown together and pretty much all of their past albums’ unique sounding elements are present. The samples of Self-Titled, the creepiness of Iowa, the silent vocals in the first verse from Vol 3, the chorus feels like it’s from AHIG, the riff from the prechorus is like from Killpop on .5. I’m sure some parts of this song is made to make you feel nostalgic for their past records and it does a great job.

Solway Firth with its weird, random title, the last song on the album was the second single after Unsainted. It’s such a normal Slipknot song that most of the fanbase loved it and it’s the perfect song to end the record with. The lyrics are about the same topic as many songs in their past: don’t lie to me, don’t try to understand me, I’m different, you can’t do anything about it. Perfect for outcast kids, for metalheads, for anyone who feels like this way. It’s also a message for the media probably since they write about Corey and the rest of the band so often.

Did Slipknot change over the past 24 years? Yes. Did they have musicians swapped around and have them (especially Corey and Clown) to blame? Yes. Do they give a single fuck about it? Absolutely not and this record proves it. They won’t change their style, they won’t get heavier or softer, they’re the same guys from Iowa (well, most of them) and they like to play music.

This album is their best since Vol 3. It unites everything that has ever been Slipknot. The aggression and the feelings are the same. I’m proud of them for making this record and writing it a little more experimental but not as much as it becomes something else they’re not

[charlie-and-yoshi-rp-hell]

Episode 46 Part 3: Mirror Maze

Mirrors show who you really are... or maybe it is all just an illusion.

(I know it´s been a very long time since something was posted here. I either forgot it, or had no time. Sorry. But I try to post the rest of our RP adventure as soon as I can. - Yoshi)

Charlie McCarthey: Something bad. And big, yeah. Lewis rumbled, the snarling picking up as he guided them more carefully than ever toward the epicenter.

We should detach. That was the only warning Arthur was given before Lewis set him on the ground and darted from his body. The purple smoke colaesced into his skeleton form, sockets narrowed. his entire body was tense, every hair radiating a strange aggression as he looked around.

Lewis couldn't help it. Some inner drive was pushing it--something deep-seated in him felt threatened by the sheer prescance of another sin.

Yoshi Raven: The lack of warmth in his chest didn´t feel good for a second but it went back to normal quickly. Arthur took Lewis hand and squeezed it slightly.

"It´s okay, calm down Lew. Please. If we jump on the sin without caution it might get worse. We don´t want another Naga desaster, right?" he mumbled, voice calm and soothing while he leaned against him in an attempt to put him on a more calm level.

Charlie McCarthey: Glowing purple eyes flickered between him and the area. His shoulders relaxed with a twitch, listening to those gentle words. Lewis grumbled a bit, hesitant to let his guard down more, but at least the constant low growling had stopped.

No. We don't. He knew he didn't have to tell Arthur to stay close. Lewis turned in a half circle, studying the directions with more than juse his five senses. This way. He kept his hand tight around Arthur's smaller one, and hovered off the ground a fraction.

Yoshi Raven: "Good ghost." he whispered, glad that Lewis was clever enough to listen to his advice.

Arthur followed him, his free hand searching for the chalk in his pocket. Good, it was there, he didn´t forget it.

It had turned into a habit that he was always carrying a piece of chalk in his pocket. It had saved them more than once.

"Well? Is the sin close?" he asked quietly.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis just stormed forward a little faster, leaning into whatever trail he was catching. A thought hit him before he realized how alien it should have been. How fucking dare a brother be so bold to set up shop near hi--wait, what?

Lewis had turned a corner and halted quickly. He straightened up, all threatening countance snapped from his face to leave a confused curious look as he surveyed the area. Any thoughts of brother or anger over his territory being impeded on melted like a snowball in his hand, and he blinked, twisting his skull like a dog would to better hear something. His hair fluttered.

A... fun house? Even in the dark, its cheery colors seemed to glow. The ghost grunted in askance and turned to Arthur for his input.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur had problems following since he was not bound to a body that needed air but finally he stopped. He was catching his breath and glared at Lewis.

"Don´t forget... I´m still human, Lew - eh? Wait, why is this thing standing here?" he asked while inspecting the fun house. Arthur walked closer - and the sign over the door said Garden of mirrors.

".... Lewis, I guess we´ll solve this case without Vivi and Mystery this time. This is the... uh.. mirror maze the policeman told us about!"

Charlie McCarthey: Oh, sorry. Lewis muttered, ducking his head sheepishly as he followed on the human's heels.

The line went cold. Well. Not cold but--something's holding it back. Ghosts can't just stop their aura. Lewis paused, eyes darkening. But Envy could. He reminded grimly, eyeing the sign that boasted 'Open!.'

...wait--you're not going in there! Without the strange instinct clouding his mind, Lewis could think rationally. And a little fearfully.

Yoshi Raven: "Why not? I have you by my side, the spells I carved into my left arm so we can take a look, right?"

Arthur walked into the maze - and hundreds of reflections of himself appeared on the mirrors when he stepped inside.

"Whoa.... this is amazing. And probably the reason it´s so difficult to find the exit. Come on Lewis, let´s take a look!" he called and moved through the hallway carefully, bumping into a mirror then and now. It was really difficult not to get lost.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis' glare swung over every inch, but he followed Arthur obediantly. As a ghost, his own reflection was soft and slightly see through--no matter how real his skeleton form was or looked. These many mirrors was making him feel a little edgy, and he grumbled anxiously, feeling something between his shoulder blades prickle. When he was alive it was hairs on the back of his neck--what were these strange sensations--about two of them it felt like, rising off his bones?

Arthur... Lewis kept his warning voice low. Don't take too many turns otherwise-- Lewis looked around. Arthur? Where are you?

Yoshi Raven: "Hmm? I´m here! Hey, you´re right behind me - " A low thump and a curse from Arthur proofed he was not right in front of Lewis. "Wait... what?" The mechanic took a step forwards and tried to touch Lewis - but he just touched the cold surface of a mirror. Lewis could see the confusion on every mirror image of Arthur.

"Damn it, I get lost in a mirror maze. Good job brain, really. Don´t worry, I´ll make markings with the chalk if I make a turn so - just follow them as soon as you find one."

He took the chalk and drew a small arrow on the floor, then walked around a corner - and the reflections of Arthur disappeared. He was too far away from Lewis now.

Charlie McCarthey: Oh for the love of--I have a better idea. Turning intangible, the ghost switfly shot through the walls--ending the illusion and destroying the confusion for himself. He found Arthur, tracking him by his aura, because at least a mirror couldn't replicate that.

Ghost, remember? He said cheekily as he pulled from an oblong mirror, landing on the floor and sticking his chest out. It never occured to Lewis that tresspassing worked both ways--and he had just distrupted the mirror effect.

Something purple eyed and mean looking shifted below the floors, spreading itself angrily as it started to awaken.

C'mon. This is definitly a case we'll need the whole gang for, Artie. We can come back tomorrow.

Yoshi Raven: "Ohh... right, ghost powers. I almost forgot. Good boooy." Arthur grinned and patted his head.

"Well we might need Vivi and Mystery too, but I still wanna take a look at this place. We might find something useful - remember this is not locked so visitors could destroy important evidence. Now, let´s go deeper into the maze."

Arthur didn´t wait for an answer and just walked into the other direction. He looked at his reflection then and now and - he wasn´t one that thought "I´m awesome" very often but seeing his well-made mechanical arm, it made him feel proud of his skills as a mechanic.

Charlie McCarthey: Casting several dark looks over his shoulder, Lewis floated after Arthur once more. He didn't bother looking at the mirrors--they gave him a weird feeling. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but sometimes out of the corner of his eye he thought his own reflection had an incorrect expression.

It was starting to unerve him.

Trick mirrors don't change an entire town, though. Lewis murmured to himself, passing by a large mirror with a wave in it.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur walked slower now, looking more often into the mirrors that changed his looks in some funny ways. He giggled and stopped in front of one that made him appear taller than Lewis.

"Hey, even I can be taller than you, see? And more awesome anyway." he cooed, the last statement sounding a bit arrogant but Arthur didn´t notice.

When Lewis passed the wave mirror, his reflection seemed to have purple smoke around it - and the eyes were glaring angrily at him. They were a dark purple, too. But when the ghost looked again, it was just his own reflection he saw. Nothing else.

Charlie McCarthey: The supernatural world would consider Lewis an 'isolated spector.' He lived with only humans, and delt with other supernatural creatures too rarely for his own good.

Careful--that big head won't fit through the door. Lewis chuckled, amused at the thought of Artie being taller than him. Unaware of the reflection tracking him, Lewis moved along quietly.

How was he to know the same tones of color were nonverbal threats? In other words, two creatures with the same color aura had a higher chance of getting into an argument. Because it was survival of the fittest, after all.

Yoshi Raven: Maybe your big head won´t fit. I´m perfect a voice growled low close to them. Arthur´s reflection changed into the image of a lion with horns, snarling at both of them. It made the mechanic jump away from the mirror but a moment later, the image turned back to the normal reflection of Arthur.

"What - what the hell was that?! Was that... the sin?" he asked, moving back to the mirror and touched the surface. It was solid, so they were not used as portals.

Charlie McCarthey: While Arthur jerked back, Lewis moved forward, letting out an aggresive noise and raising his fist--until the image vanished. He calmed quickly, rumbling in confusion as he looked at all the mirrors sorrounding them. His fist dropped, and he backed up, trying to put Arthur behind him--it was hard when there was a damn mirror on every side.

Perfect, eh? How perfect can you be--hiding behind all this weak glass. Lewis grinned, feeling that sensation again, crawling up his spine and taking residency between his shoulder blades.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur was glad having Lewis by his side. This sin, this lion looked dangerous and he was sure that he could do more than just scare.

"Lewis... you´re right, let´s get back tomorrow. Come on, we should search the exit - "

Arthur took a step away from the ghost and they were suddenly seperated by a purple glowing mirror. All of them were glowing in this colour now. No matter how much Lewis tried, going through them or melting didn´t work.

"No!! Lewis!! Are you okay?!" the mechanic shrieked and slammed his hands on the surface again and again, trying to break it but of course they didn´t.

Charlie McCarthey: I'm fine! Lewis grabbed him by the back of his vest and hauled him from the glass. He sidestepped in a circle, trying to keep his eyes on everything at once, his boots made a creak under the old cement floor.

Floor? Floor!

We're getting out of here, I need you to trust me. Flying was one thing--what Lewis was about to try was an altogether different thing.

Yoshi Raven: Lewis didn´t notice the purple spark in the mirror until it was too late. The lion grabbed Arthur on his arm with his teeth and dragged him inside the mirror.

You´ve invaded my territory - you stomped on my pride and broke the rules of this place! Now I take something from you as a price. If you want him back, find the middle of this maze - and you better hurry, I don´t know how long such a broken soul can withstand my spell. he growled at Lewis, then roared at him before the reflection and Arthur disappeared. More mirrors rised from the floor and changed around Lewis and when they settled down, the purple glow was back. Now on the floor and ceiling, too. He wouldn´t just fly through everything this time.

Charlie McCarthey: Hey! Lewis lunged after him, but going through the mirror only got him on the other side. You give him back! NOW! The bellowing noise  meant he was too heartbeats away from changing into his ifritform and just going Hulk on this place. All he got in return for his shouting was silence and the soft glow of these damned mirrors. But all the broken glass he would cause--and he wasn't sure where Arthur was being kept.

With a disgusted snarl, the ghost began following the maze correctly, careful not to phase through the walls this time. How could he tell where the middle of the maze was? Dammit!

Yoshi Raven: With all the mirrors, even Lewis lost his sense of direction after a while, just like the time. How long was he now searching? 10 minutes, 20 minutes, an hour? He couldn´t tell.

But finally, when he took another corner, the hallway was full of Arthur´s reflections sitting on the floor, hands on his head. One spell on his left arm was revealed that kept his mind free from control but it was still difficult for him.

"Stop talking! Shut up...!" he growled and jumped on his feet, punching against one mirror - it only hurt him.

"Ouch.. damn it."

Some of the reflections didn´t follow the movements of the others, though. They were just staring at Lewis with empty eyes.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis balked for half a second, before moving to the nearest one and reaching for it--glass.

Arthur? Can you hear me?! He tried calling, even as he checked the next mirror, trying to not let himself panic too much. If he panicked and lost control, if he changed right here--he coudn't. Even if it meant combating the sin effectively, he would not put Arthur in danger.

Arthur listen to me! You can fight it--whatever he's saying don't listen!

Yoshi Raven: The only reflection that reacted was the one that was showing Arthur´s back - or was it a reflection?

The hands slowly dropped from his head, head moving slightly.

"Lew.. is that... yes! Lewis!!"

But when "Arthur" turned around, his left half was tinted purple and his face distorted to an evil grin, his teeth had turned into fangs and claws were on his left hand.

The creature let out a horrifying screech and leaped at Lewis, just to burst into purple dust and vanish inches before the claws and fangs could dig into his body. All of the other reflections were gone now, too.

Charlie McCarthey: This was not helping his stress level.

Lewis had summoned a fist of hot fire at the first flash of purple--but then all he saw was Arthur coming at him, and the ghost jerked back, lowering his fist as if he planned to let Arthur attack him.

He prayed the sin wouldn't notice.

He wasn't that lucky.

Let him go. He wasn't the one who broke the rules--I did. Lewis reminded darkly. Give him back and you can have me.

Yoshi Raven: A dark laughter was echoing through the maze.

­Oh no, this is waay too much fun. An attached ghost - how cute. How weak. This is annoying - you are annoying! ... well. Let´s say you will get him back soon. But not in one piece.

A crazy laughter followed and the sound of breaking glass and a low thump.

Good luck finding him.

The mirrors flashed and all of them showed Arthur again. Some of them looked normal, others showed a possessed, half purple face Arthur and some even him with blood running down his face. But one of the reflections was running away, eyes scared and looking around.

Charlie McCarthey: You don't wanna make that threat. He's the one thing keeping me from ripping you to shreds, brother. The voice that seethed the threat out didn't exactly sound like Lewis--but it felt like him and he didn't bother dwelling on the specifics.

Lewis' eyes widened, a string of hope on the one that was running.

Arthur! He shouted desperately, shooting through the winding maze, trying to track the one that made the most sense. The mirrors tried getting in his way--finally, he let his fire go, blasting a few of them to pieces as he recgonized the ones that weren't Arthur.

I'm coming--I'm right here!

Yoshi Raven: Arthur kept running away as if something was hunting him. The fire erased the wrong reflections of him - the injured ones, the possessed ones and everything else that clearly wasn´t Arthur.

But then, after Lewis had shot fire on another mirror, the running Arthur was suddenly stopping and turning his head, a dark grin on his face - and Lewis heard Arthur screaming next to him. He was kneeling on the floor, his arms trembling and in front of his face. The metal one was blazing slightly but on his right one, his face and neck were burn marks. Parts of his white shirt had been burned, too.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis yelped shrilly, pulling back with horror written all over his skull

A-Arthur! He cried, torn between going over to his human and keeping his distance so he didn't hurt him further.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry! A-are you--are you okay?! The ghost whimpered, fire flaring out weakly as he withdrew his power.

Yoshi Raven: "I´m... I´m fine, this will heal and maybe Vivi has something."

The metal arm had cooled down and Arthur got up, going over to Lewis. He took the chalk out of his pocket and started drawing symbols on Lewis´ right arm.

"Pull that bastard out of the mirror with this, get him out of here and destroy him with this." he growled while he wrote the runes for the Serpentarius spell on the ghost´s left arm. They started glowing white.

"I can´t do that with the burned arm so this time it´s your job. Oh, and don´t hold back. Show this sin what kind of ghost you are."

Arthur placed a quick kiss on his hair and grinned at him.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis flinched at the touch, hesitating as his gaze locked on those burns. But then Arthur's speaking--no, Arthur's telling him what to do--and Lewis lets instinct take over, lets his eyes narrow on the target and he growls in response at Arthur's orders.

He made a fist with his free hand, but the other he lead with, slamming it into mirrors and searching for the one that would leave the sin wide open. By this fifth one he saw the demon moving through them, trying to put distance between the smashing mirrors and himself. No such luck, Lewis spotted him and darted after.

Yoshi Raven: When Pride had realized the blonde kid knew how to use runes, he was slightly confused but then he had heard the name of that specific spell - the one that could kill creatures like him. He let out an angered growl and jumped between the mirrors, not giving the other ghost a chance to pull him out of them. He´d lose half of his power if that happens.

Lewis wasn´t able to catch him, so Pride started playing with him. Showing him many reflections but never himself. Laughing at him and attacking him from the shadows with his claws, tearing the suit on his back.

Is that all you got?! You´re weak, idiot. Attaching yourself to a human is a sign of weakness. You´re better without him. he growled and appeared in the mirror behind Arthur who had walked away from the fight and the lion lifted his claws, ready to tear the human apart.

-------------------------

(Previous) - (Next)

[trashyazeohane]

Anyhoo it seems you guys like my ideas, so here I am – with new part… If I didn’t have one long fanfick already started, I would turn it into a normal story, but naaah, probably not. Maybe I’ll write something, maybe not, idk…

So where we left off… Ah yeah… And today with even more of my shitty colorful my art!

Part 1 here!

Adult!Maxvid!AU – part 2 (keep it going):

Scene #3

Max wanted to say something. Anything. But his throat was dry and he felt like he suddenly swallowed a ton of bricks, which were made of lead actually. The fact that his Little Star was looking at him curiously wasn’t helping at all. It was making everything way worse.

Oh, Nikki definitely would pay a nice amount of money to see him like this.

And fuck, David was still staring at him and – what the hell – this guy didn’t change at all!? This was unfair.

“Max?” David asked, hands immediately moving to form letters. Little Star followed his movements, only to turn her head at Max in the end.

Fuck, shit, god fucking damn it, he was ruined. Why, just why him? Why now? Why after so many years?

Nevermind I forgot where I was going with the previous scene

After some awkward interaction Max took his Little Star home, still in this half dazed state. She tried to ask him few questions, but he barely could respond with his hands, which weirdly felt like they didn’t belong to him. His aunt also asked him about it, but he just brushed it off to quickly get back to his dorm.

Boom! Max burst into Nikki’s room, who was in the middle of feeding her snake. She was like ‘Sup Max!’ without lifting her head at him.

Scene#4

“Nikki!”

“What?!” The girl looked at him, now clearly perplexed. Well, no wonder. If weird glances from his family were any good indication, then he had to look out of his mind. He felt out of his mind. “Max, you okay, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That could even be even the case.

For few seconds the voice didn’t want to leave his throat. Fuck, even the coherent sentence didn’t want to be formed inside his now mushy brain. Or what was left of it. Seriously, fuck him, fuck his life. Everything was going almost good for few years. He almost managed to forget about him. But then he had to be right there!

Why had he done in his life to deserve it? He probably deserved it, but still!

The interval in the conversation had to be long, because even Nikki started to look… worried? Yes, worried was a good name for the emotion hiding inside her eyes.

“Max?”

“I just saw David.”

“Oh…”

“Just oh!? You’re commenting it with just ‘oh’!?”

“Wait, my mind is still processing this.”

So Max was basically totally freaked out. Like duh! Nikki interrogated him about the whole meeting fiasco and Max realized that he had to look pretty dumb with him uttering almost no words. Fuck. What if David found out? No, but that was impossible!? There was no way he could know what was running through Max’s brain. And even if… most of it was filled with ‘fucks’…

Nikki patted him on the back and was like ‘Everything’s going to be okay.’

Max was like ‘Wtf how!?’

Scene #5

“Well you don’t have to pick up your cousin that often, right? So chill. Maybe you’ll see him like five more times or so?”

“Nikki, I agreed to pick her up every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“That complicates things…”

“No shit, Sherlock!”

So Max was a nervous mess and Nikki actually found it pretty funny. In the end Max snapped at her to stop snickering at him and she just burst into laughter and said that she had to call Neil.

Which she did, later. And then Neil wrote to him in the middle of the night (because that nerd had terrible sleeping schedules due to his Uni). Talking with Neil actually helped more than with Nikki, but well she was never good in lifting people’s spirits up in the end.

Next day rolled more over calmly. Max, maybe not totally forgot about his encounter, but he had terrible labs so he was exhausted to this point where he didn’t think too much about it.

But then Thursday came and Max literally laid in his bed, opened his eyes open and immediately murmured ‘Shit’

The day passed and Max got more anxious with every passing minute. He was so stressed that he snarled and growled at every person that wanted to approach him. Only Nikki was allowed to be close, because she didn’t care. Actually found it hilarious (again).

Then she even dared to show him thumbs-up when he was supposed to go pick his Little Star up. Max showed her middle finger, just because he was nervous and pissed, because he rarely feels nervous and now he was nervous because of that fucktard!

Max taps his foot a lot when he is like that

He was talking a lot with himself in his head while going to the Kindergarten, because duh, maybe David won’t be there today? Maybe he won’t see him anymore? Maybe it was just a terrible figment of his imagination? Yes, maybe David was only there in replacement for someone who had vacations? Maybe he wasn’t already working there and Max won’t see him ever again?

But you kind of want to see him? Admit it!

Shut up, me!

And he was in front of the door.

Shiet, fuck, shiet, fuck!

But he was Max. He had reputation at his Uni. Very bad reputation! He had to keep the face! Especially in front of David. Piece of cake!

So Max stepped inside. The woman behind the counter just asked him to step further into the building, because she had hands full of work (aka. kids).

“You have to turn left at the end of the hall and go through the third door on the right!”

“Okay…”

So he stepped into the hall and slowly moved further. Gladly he didn’t get lost, although he had to replay the instructions two times in his head.

He had to pass one more hallway to get to the class. Max was now pissed and perplexed by this building construction. The fact that it was still filled with shouts and yells of kids didn’t really help calm his nerves. It actually made him more edgy and angry.

So he was majorly pissed when he finally, finally reached the opened door.

He was about to knock on the doorframe, but stopped midway, when he saw David in the middle of the room with his Little Star hanging onto his neck.

And, what the fuck, Max definitely had to be cursed, because he felt all this anger slipping away. He wouldn’t admit that it could be a nice spell, it definitely was a fucking curse.

Anyhoo

Scene #6.1

David was kneeling in the middle of the room. He was explaining something to some kid in front of him and he looked… looked so calm. This everlasting smile was still on his face, always kind and understanding. Just as Max remembered it. David’s hands move smoothly in front of himself and the kid in front twirled his foot into the carpet, but a shy, embarrassed smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It also looked like the kid had been crying not too long ago. (Picture above)

The room was quiet, but not uncomfortable or deadly quiet, just… it felt like the silence was always present here, but not unwelcomed.

Scene #6.2

Then David patted the child’s head and smiled broadly and the kid did the same. Only then he finally noticed Max standing in the corridor, or by now leaning on the wall there. (Picture above)

“Oh hey, Max! I didn’t hear you coming in.”

Max raised his eyebrow, ready to snarky comment back the fact that his footsteps were the fucking loudest thing in this goddamn corridor, but then Little Star untangled herself form David’s neck and ran to him, with that giddy smile on her face, to wrap her hands around her legs.

“Maxie!”

By the way, Max totally hates kids! Like, he feels like snapping when one do something stupid near him. The only kid he likes/loves is Little Star.

“Why won’t you show Max what you did today?” David asked, but it didn’t sound like the voice was directed to anyone. His hands’ movements although were directed at the girl hugging Max’s knees. She grinned at that and left Max’s legs. Only then he felt that they could turn into jelly!!! But somehow he managed to stand still, without falling down. Inner Max patted him on the back.

Scene #6.3

Someone save him, because he felt like collapsing. Especially as David turned his head from following Little Star movements to Max.

And Max’s brain once again did the cursing/swearing sequence.

“How are you doing, Max? We didn’t see each other in like-“

“Seven years.” Why did his brain decided to end David’s sentence? What the fuck was wrong with him?

But it didn’t look like the red-haired male took a notice of this as he continued smoothly:

“Oh my golly, it has been already seven years! You’ve grown up so much.” David said, in that ever happy-tone. Then he closed his mouth, hummed and stepped closer. It took a lot of Max’s inner strength not to step back. Then David’s hand moved from the top of his head to the top of Max’s one. “You even overgrew me! I’m amazed!”

“It just genes.” Max answered, but he felt kind of proud, even though he really didn’t have a reason.

“Ah don’t say that, Max. I’m sure you drunk a lot of milk.” David continued, didn’t fazed by the Max’s interruption. Maybe he even looked glad for it. “You sure changed a lot. Although the blue blouse didn’t. Do they make it also for adults?”

Okay, with that he can deal. So Max rolled his eyes.

“Of course, I still wear the same blouse I had since I was a kid.”

“Wait, really?”

“No.”

As you can see Max isn’t such little/tall shit. Well he usually is a little/tall shit, but he calmed a lot through the years. Although when he doesn’t like someone, he isn’t afraid to show his displeasure and dislike. He is still snarky, sarcastic shit in the end.

David suddenly stopped talking, while looking with wide eyes at Max who was like – shit, did he say something wrong? But no, he had been his usual self. What if-

But then David started to laugh and Max was like –

Fuck

His heart

Which skipped a beat after hearing this laughter.

But gladly he wasn’t frozen for long, cause Little Star was back and proudly showed him a tiny platypus she had made from a plasticine.

Max grabbed and stared at it. It wasn’t that or the most realistic platypus (for starters, it was blue, like very bright blue), but it had some childish charm to it. Plus Little Star made it, so it added a hundred points to the final mark!

Max signed to her ‘It’s amazing! I can see you put a lot of effort into it!’

He did it very sloooow.

But Little Star smiled at him and signed back ‘It’s for you!’

Max tried really hard not to grin, but the half-smirk still appeared on his face. He signed one more time ‘thanks’ and then pocketed the figurine.

Nikki totally stole it later by the way. Max was furious while he searched through his whole room for that figurine only to find in on Nikki’s desk.

Back to the main plot.

Then Max lifted his face and boom, David was smiling so proudly at him with tears in the corners of his eyes.

Scene #6.4

“Awww Max~ that was so sweet!” He cooed and this made Max so embarrassed.

“Fuck, shut up David!”

“Language, Max!”

Okay, I think this is all for part 2 I guess? I had this whole story kind of planned out in my head and it started to turn into a fanfic what the fcuk!

Anyhoo there will be some NSFW parts later? Maybe!? Idk really (I mean, in my head they are there, but I don’t know if I add them here). But sorry, I’m a hardcore fan of bottom!David so yeah… you now know what you can expect in the future~

Love!

[fandomsandfeminism]

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is a weird and wonderful story, full of odd surreal encounters and wacky nonsense. Despite it's strangeness though, I promise that drugs were not involved in it's production.

To read all of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass as a PDF: http://www.gasl.org/refbib/Carroll__Alice_1st.pdf

Full text version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/11/11-h/11-h.htm

Full text version of Through the Looking Glass: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/12/12-h/12-h.htm

Closed Captioning coming soon

Transcript below

Alice in Wonderland isn’t about drugs.

Now, I know that may come as a surprise to some people. It’s pretty standard internet fair to point at Alice, with all the trippy visuals and the mushrooms and the Hookah caterpillar, and declare that it was REALLY all about drugs this whole time, oh ho ho, and Disney made a movie about it!

But it’s not. It’s not about drugs.

I want to talk about Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass a little bit today, what they are really about, where this idea of them being about drugs came from, and why I find it to kind of be bullshit.

So, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is an 1865 novel written by English novelist Charles Lutwidge Dodgson under the pseudonym Lewis Carrol. The sequel, Through the Looking Glass, was published in 1871. I’m going to focus mainly on these two original books, and  not the dozens and dozens and dozens of adaptations and remakes that exist. For the record, both books are in the public domain, so it's very easy to find pdf copies of them on the internet.

Almost every movie version of Alice, including the Disney one, splices together elements and plot points from both of the books, rather than simply adapting one story or the other. It’s not particularly important to know which characters and events happen in each, since they are very often published as a pair anyway. But we’re going to have a quick overview.

-

In Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Alice is a young girl who is in the garden of her home playing with her cat Dinah when she sees a white  rabbit in a waistcoat run past, apparently late to an appointment. She follows the rabbit down the rabbit hole and thus into wonderland. What follows is a quintessential example of literary nonsense, filled with word play,  puns, and absurdity as Alice works her way through Wonderland.

She eats an odd bite of cake and drinks a potion which change her size. She cries so hard she creates a sea. She recites some poetry she had to memorize for school buts gets it all wrong. She meets a mouse that won’t answer her call in English, so she tries talking to it in French. She wonders if this assumed French mouse came over with William the Conqueror, because Alice doesn’t know much about when things in history happened. They reach the shore where other animals are. The mouse then gives a lecture on william the conqueror and the animals agree to a Caucus race to dry off  (Because Alice doesn’t know what a caucus actually is.)

Alice meets the Caterpillar, who seems to speak in riddles, correcting her grammar and not making sense. She meets the Duchess, who yells a lot and seems to ignore her baby. She meets the Cheshire Cat, who again, doesn’t make a lot of sense, and then the Mad Hatter and March Hare. More and more riddles. She plays a VERY silly game of croquet with the Queen of Hearts where the rules don’t make sense and the Queen cheats a lot. She meets a Mock Turtle (a pun on Mock Turtle soup, apparently Alice thought Mock Turtles were an animal). Then the world’s silliest court scene, where everything is unfair and doesn’t make sense, and then Alice goes back home, waking up as if from a dream.

Set presumably about half a year later, in Through the Looking Glass, Alice is playing inside the house with two cats, Dinah’s kittens, when she contemplates the mirror in the room. She finds that she is able to walk through the mirror and back into Wonderland.  She discovers a mostly nonsense poem, Jabberwocky, which can only be read if you hold it up to a mirror. She also finds that the chess pieces in the room have come to life. What follows is another adventure in mostly absurdity, though if you know how, you can actually use Looking Glass as a step by step guide for a real chess game. Alice plays the part of one of the white pawns.

She wanders through the garden of living flowers, meets Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, talks to Humpty Dumpty, and eventually makes all the way across the “board” and becomes a queen herself. The Red and White queens throw her a party,  and then confuse her with riddles and wordplay. This actually results in Alice physically confronting the Red Queen and “Capturing her”, putting the Red King into “Checkmate” unintentionally, and thus, she wakes up in her arm chair back home having won the game.

Quick recommendation, if you want to get all of the little wordplay and puns and references in Alice and Looking Glass, I recommend the Annotated Alice by Martin Gardner. It’s awesome.

- These books are pretty strange. So, if not a psychedelic reflection about a weird acid trip, or whatever, what’s up with these books? Why are they so weird?

Well, Carrol said he wrote the book after he and a friend spent a day on a river trip with the 3 young daughters of Henry Liddell in 1862. During their journey, Carrol entertained the girls with a made up nonsense story about a girl named Alice. Alice Liddell was so entranced that she told Carrol he should publish it. And so he did. He spent a few years refining the story before it was finally published, and the real Alice got her copy.

So on the surface, it’s just that- a silly story meant to amuse children, a celebration of imagination and childhood silliness.

But there are some underlying themes in these books. The encounters Alice has have a sort of pattern to them- Adults in the books, whether they are the Queen of Hearts or the White Queen, the Duchess or the Hatter, often speak in riddles. They make up rules that don’t make sense and refuse to explain them. The white rabbit is obsessed with never being late, and much of the word play or silliness comes from Alice not understanding adult or unfamiliar concepts (like the Mock Turtle or a Caucus race.)

And so the books become a very silly exploration of how a child, viewing the adult world, might feel confused and lost. Wonderland is Adulthood cloaked in familiar childhood clothes. Nursery Rhymes and game board pieces doing a fumbling pantomime of adulthood, discussing mathematical concepts and latin grammar, through the eyes of a child who doesn’t understand it.

There are many things that can be pulled from Alice- ideas of innocence, of escapism, of identity and sense of self,  of intentionally bucking order in favor of disorder. But none of those things are drugs.

(Sidenote: There is a whole other issue about Carrol’s….relationship with the Liddell daughters, and his...fondness for young girls in general. This is a whole separate debate, and it  gets kinda messy with contemporary views of childhood and adulthood and whether there was anything...untoward about his fondness for them. But that’s really not what we’re talking about today. )

- So, why do people think this is a story about drugs? Carrol wasn’t known for opium use, or even heavy drinking. He had no exposure to psychedelics (magic mushrooms wouldn't be discovered by Europeans until 1955) So why?

I think the easiest answer is that people want stories to make sense. I want stories to make sense. I spent a lot of money going to college to get a degree in “Making stories make sense.” We want there to be a reason that things happen in stories, and so when a story feels as random and silly and surreal as Alice, we want to figure out what it’s REALLY about.

This is kind of the underlying idea behind surrealism in general- creating art and meaning out of the absurd and random images of dreams and unreality. [Side note, there is an edition of Alice with illustrations by Salvador Dali, which is...amazing.]

And thanks to the culture of the 1960s and 1970s, there is a heavy association between reality-bending images and drug use, especially hallucinogens. And depending on which adaptation you are looking at, some movies really play up this trippy psychedelic aesthetic for Alice.

But I think there’s another level to this one, and one that I find much more grating. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is a story for children, especially for girls. And there is a certain segment of the population, especially among young adults on the internet, who really seem to enjoy taking things aimed at children and declaring NO, this thing isn’t for kids, it’s actually FOR ME, and slapping an edgy dark interpretation on top of it, however sloppily.

Fan theories like...Ash is in a coma all along, or all the Rugrats are dead and Angelica is just imagining them, and...yeah, a huge slice of the Brony fandom declaring that adult men are the real audience, they aim at appropriating and co-opting child media for adult consumption

And there’s something about that which leaves a sour taste in my mouth over all. - I don’t think there’s anything inherently bad about reimagining child stories in more adult ways. But I do think it somewhat misses the point when people begin to insist that these mature reimaginings are the CORRECT or more valid interpretation, especially if they lead to the exclusion of children from that media space.

With Alice in particular, I think the story gives adult readers a chance to empathize with children, not as dolls or objects of cuteness, but as people interacting with a confusing and strange world as they grow up. It is an opportunity to revisit childhood, with all it’s familiar characters and uncertainty and wonder, and rather than corrupt that story, I think it should be embraced.

I’m going to leave you with the end of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Alice’s adult sister, having heard her story, lays back, and herself begins to dream, of Wonderland and of her sister Alice. And This is what it says, “Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.”

And that is what Wonderland is about.

Thanks for watching this video! I’ll see yall down in the comments, so if you have any questions, feedback, or suggestions, head on over. If you enjoyed listening to this queer millennial feminist with a BA in English ramble on for a while, feel free to subscribe.

[awesome-shirley-fan]

What's old is new

What's old is new

DESCENDER

One young robot’s struggle to stay alive in a universe where all androids have been outlawed and bounty hunters lurk on every planet. A rip-roaring and heart-felt cosmic odyssey that pits humanity against machine, and world against world, to create a sprawling space opera from the creators of Trillium, Sweet Tooth, and Little Gotham.

ASCENDER

Powerhouse creative team JEFF LEMIRE and DUSTIN NGUYEN launch an all-new sequel series to DESCENDER with the launch of ASCENDER! Set ten years after the conclusion of DESCENDER’s storyline, magic has taken the place of machinery and the rules are very different indeed… Mila, the daughter of Andy and Effie from DESCENDER, spends her days exploring the lonely wilds of the planet Sampson and trying to stay out of the clutches of the evil disciples of the all-powerful vampire witch known only as Mother. But, like her parents, Mila doesn’t like to play by the rules, and when a certain robot pal of her dad’s shows up, nothing will ever be the same! With all the scope and heart of the sci-fi classic DESCENDER, LEMIRE and NGUYEN reunite to take readers on an unforgettable fantasy quest!

Like you I’m sure you can tell when something is good, whether it’s a book, comic book or podcast you can’t stop consuming it. This is one you won’t be able to put down. Like most of Lemires work it’s excellent and addicting.  The whole future dynamic between robots and humans is fascinating to all of us, especially now when AI is getting closer than it ever has been. The art is gritty and fits the story telling. The story starts with Descender and chapter two is Ascender. Also as I have said before I like the story because it has a beginning and ending.If you like the conflict between humans and robots you will love Jeff Lemires Descender/Ascender.

            This isn’t new, but it’s new to me. EC Comics collection from Dark Horse. When you think Dark Horse might be down for the count they hit back hard, THE EC ARCHIVES

Entertaining Comics, more commonly known as EC Comics, was an American publisher of comic books, which specialized in horror fiction, crime fiction, satire, military fiction and science fiction from the 1940s through the mid-1950s, notably the Tales from the Crypt series. In 1954–55, censorship pressures prompted EC Comics to concentrate on the humor magazine Mad, leading to the company’s greatest and most enduring success. Initially, EC was privately owned by Maxwell Gaines and specialized in educational and child-oriented stories. Later, during its period of notoriety, it was owned by his son, William Gaines. He sold the company in 1960, and it was eventually absorbed into the Kinney National Company, the same corporation that later purchased DC Comics and Warner Bros.

EC had success with its fresh approach and pioneered in forming relationships with its readers through its letters to the editor and its fan organization, the National EC Fan-Addict Club. EC Comics promoted its stable of illustrators, allowing each to sign his art and encouraging them to develop unique styles; the company additionally published one-page biographies of them in the comic books. This was in contrast to the industry's common practice, in which credits were often missing,

They were also known for their shock endings in the stories, like Weird Fantasy #18 (April 1953) The story depicted a human astronaut, a representative of the Galactic Republic, visiting the planet Cybrinia, inhabited by robots. He finds the robots divided into functionally identical orange and blue races, one of which has fewer rights and privileges than the other. The astronaut determines that due to the robots' bigotry, the Galactic Republic should not admit the planet until these problems are resolved. In the final panel, he removes his helmet, revealing himself to be a person of color. Which in 1953 America was shocking. Almost all of their stories had an ending like this.

  Another fun series is Adventure into the unknown. One of the stories simply titled Haunted house might be what a Scooby Doo episode was based on. A couple has to stay overnight in a haunted house in order to get their inheritance from a rich relative. The lawyer in charge of the estate tries to scare them out of the house by making the house appear to be haunted. Classic story and art from 1948. At the time these stories were considered edgy before the comics code of authority. These comics are the reason for the code.

What a great idea! Rather than create new characters and stories why not go back 75 years and retell stories to many who have never seen it.

This concept fits the saying “why recreate the wheel” you have great stories very few today have seen, why not reprint and give a chance for new readers to experience and enjoy an old story.

IDW also released a special limited run edition feature the best artists edition, but I believe the Dark Horse reprints are complete and unabridged.

If you have listened to this podcast for any length of time you can tell I’m a bit of a nostalgia nut. Seeing these old comics even though I didn’t live in this time period I still like the vibe I get from reading them. The optimism they project is inspiring, for example the writers had humans traveling in space like we drive to the grocery store. Yes, I will admit some of it is a bit corny but getting a glimpse of what people living in that time period were thinking is fun to consider.

Look at least one of these volumes and see what you think. The people who created these comics and stories were the pioneers of the industry that we enjoy today. They were learning as they went along. They created the medium and creators today are perfecting the medium.

          This reminds of the SNES classic my kids gave me. To clarify if you don’t know the SNES classic is a small Super NES console with 21 SNES games on it. No carts and they included controls identical to the original 1990 controllers. The games play just like the originals. again, what's old is new again.

Favorite games: Zelda Metroid and best of all you can hack it to play even more retro games from the NES to Sega Genesis and more.

Nostalgia is in and in a big way. With all that is going on in the world I believe people like to go back to what they believe in their mind was a simpler time. Whether it was or not is debatable, but if you go back to when you were 10 it was a simpler time. Or at least I hope it was for you. When you are 10 you don’t have to concern yourself with a job, house payments and getting the next promotion. The most you had to worry about is who you are going to hang out with today and what game to play.

Some may knock people who like to talk about and buy things from their childhood. I would say like most things there is a healthy and unhealthy balance that needs to be adhered to. For example, do not put a second mortgage on your house to buy that one-of-a-kind limited-edition Star Wars action figure. The guys over at the MEGA podcast came up with the idea of having a mini collection of MOTU figures. I believe the number to be considered mini was 8-10 figures. I thought this was a good way to not go overboard, but still have a piece of your childhood.

Overall, I don’t think it’s bad to have a few things from your past. You know the feelings and memories that come rushing back when you hold that one thing from your childhood and instantly you are 10 again and you have your whole world to explore. Even if it’s only for a few minutes at least let people enjoy it and let them share their memories with you and the excitement they got to experience. A friend told me his wife didn’t understand why he collected and talked about old MOTU figures. He said because it brings back feelings and memories from a good time in his life and made him feel good to revisit those memories again. She still didn’t understand why. A few months later her birthday came around and he bought her an original bear she had as kid that she mentioned she had lost during a move when she was a kid and wished she had never lost it. When she opened the box she was stunned and started to cry as the memories of the bear came rushing back. He had bought her the exact bear she had lost. And he said this is why I buy those old figures. That story nailed it for me. Maybe you have a similar story. If so you can email me cn@covertnerd.net or go to covertnerd.net to find out how to reach me. I will put a link in the show notes that you can access on whatever device you are using to listen to this podcast.

Let me know about your thoughts on this episode and any ideas you have for future topics I would love to hear what you think.

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[nel-s-unfolding]

Boy with an I

This is a longer text that I’ve been writing over the course of some years. I stumbled upon it a few days ago and felt like sending it out into the world. Some things I would write and think and say differently today, or not at all. Some questions that have really burnt back then, don’t matter so much now. But I wanted to honor this process of growth and change, which is why I publish this text with only minor edits and the last few paragraphs added. 

I’ve learned that “boi” as a queer marker has its origins in Black / PoC spaces and was appropriated in mostly white queer spaces. You can read more about it here: http://genderqueerid.com/post/52144260437/hello-i-once-heard-somebody-say-the-term-boi

Content note: I am talking about rape and what effects that has had on me, though I am not talking in details.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Boy with an I

When you told me your label, and explained the spelling to me, you were sitting and your couch and smiled. I was standing in front of you, spellbound by the attraction between our bodies. You were the first person to talk to me about queer identities, and I would love you just because of this.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My parents organized a dinner to celebrate. When I graduated from university I was wearing a little pink robot on a pink chain, cautiously selecting the item as a silent protest against the celebration of having finished studies and now being able to enter the workforce. There were flowers, and my fiancé, and when dinner was over, we went home and I cried in front of the flowers. I felt broken and emptied out, and I had no idea how I had come to this point. I tried to fix myself, and things, by saying yes to a marriage proposal. But I broke up, and my mother also sat down and cried, talking about safe havens and that it wasn't so bad (he's no drinker after all, he doesn't hit you. What more do you want?) and I was listening to her crying on the other end of the line. I had been a bad child.

When I was raped the last time, I met people who helped me put the experience into words; words that have effect, and words I was forbidden to use in the end by rule of law. It felt like I was being put into an armor that had the hard surface on the inside. I didn't realize for a while that from this moment on, I would feel an itchy pain with every swift movement. Fighting would hurt me as much as it would hurt others.

Every person creates a battlefield, is pushed into the fighting pits, has to react to acts of violence and doubt. I think the prevention to this is spreading love, although this is dwindling into absurd circles and spirals of cause and effect. About a year before the rape, I wrote an e-mail to this person who was then my ex-lover, and said: thank you for making me the person I am today. I don't know what to make of this now. Sure, his actions have contributed a lot to how I've changed, but it's a  way of looking at things that rips me apart: should I say good things have come out of my rape? I became political in a way that I wasn't before. I reached out to feminism to make sense of the violence and the after-effects (the no-one believes you, the you play the white woman's tears, the sorry we can't change the law, the you're just a little too much at the moment). I moved to another place, and I queered my life, unlearning and re-learning, endlessly posing questions, staring at the walls and wishing to disappear at certain points, but also: I remember this one party where he left the room because of me, and I was dancing, and the feeling of having survived was even stronger than being drunk.

He's surely stuck in the mist of the things he did. He is a sleepwalker, and he was a sleep raper.

After two years and a five hundred euro sentence for writing a text about my rape, I can start thinking about him again as a human being. I can also start thinking about myself as a human being again. I can, for example, make a clear connection between the violence I experienced and the romantic love moves I am going through time after time. It's pacification. It's the desperate logic of being feminine like an island in a sea of hate for femininity. I outdo myself, and maybe I won't be punished so much as the others. I spread love in an overflow of efficiency, and I will probably just to be able to vanish into the crowd. I always put a lot of energy in clearing the route: an expression in rock climbing for a task done by the person who comes second in a party of two. It means taking up all the gear that the person going first needed to put into place to get the route down securely. It means not leaving traces, not wasting gear, nor holding up the others. I started climbing after the rape, and I let myself sink into the learning of gear terms and geography, rock formations, climbing history and training methods. I could feel my own muscle strength. And it was how I got to know you.

I walk home tipsily, thinking about the friend who had dumped me because I was becoming too heavy for him. Clearing the route: we wrote a lot, parallel to each other, snatching words and topics, exchanging our approaches to the world and riding swan boats on broad open rivers. I am writing about others as a means of love, but he blamed me for stealing, imitating, and coming too close. This seemed to be the way to go: coming very close, wanting a lot, almost forcing others to share whatever it is that is important to them. Because I understand so well, I am the ever-friendly hostess of feelings and states of minds, and because I want to fix things so much. Only later I connected this ideas of love to the overstepping of boundaries that happen in the name of affection, and how closely this is connected to a self-image I wound up with, having grown up in patriarchy, in which there are a thousand ways to tell me I don't matter, and my actions don't matter, and my words don't matter. (It's almost soothing to get a piece of paper saying that my words made my rapist have a mental breakdown, which must mean that I matter, in an odd way)

After this I can never go back to pacifying. It aches in my muscles, in my stomach and my brain to uncoil my own entanglements and look at the hurt I do, but I won't go back.

I try to turn ahead, like I was a ship with mighty sails that a more stable version of myself is able to steer. I pick up things I used to do like remainders of a stranger's life: the neon light I brought along to so many parties, my engagement ring, the pink robot, my habit of taking pictures. But there are blind spots. The pain kept sitting there where I hesitate to say I, say me, say my. Friends have been lost- no, friends have decided to stop hanging out. They decided to ignore my pain, and told me instead to focus on work. Being a rape survivor sounds edgy, a fast slash of a phrase, like a clever and dangerous dinosaur. That's me alright.

When I met you, you hesitantly told me that you were raped as well. Of course, a little voice in my head said. I can always tell, at least after a while. I can just tell, and there is no way I can say why, but I know who has been violated and who hasn't. Unfortunately that made my hate no less, on the contrary I was busy neglecting that I am one of them. I wanted to have the privilege of being unhurt. 'Innocent', the word in patriarchy would say.

You reminded me that this sort of language is not for us. Us: the queers, the hurt, the dysfunctional, the glittering, autonomous, wandering, weird. You showed me how you're uncomfortably shifting between s, h and e and how this inability to make a home in names is a well of creativity and erotics for you: your films and selfies capturing your transition. These documentations of yourself draw others in, make people being caught in the headlights of your steadfast faith in your own power. I am learning that this is what emancipation means. And it feels like standing under a huge disco ball, throwing its inexhaustive eyes on me like a lover delivering their touch, and my skin is endless, a vast object to caress. I take it all in.

I am allowed to be part of this community; this group of people that were taken apart so often by razor-sharp norms that they lost interest in putting things back together; the norms always itched or strangled anyways. While I hesitate to look at myself, I indulge in looking at all the hot queers, and I indulge in wondering how I ended up there (feeling nothing like the emptiness when I cried in front of the flowers, but inside me the fear echoes if I might get punished for every autonomous, critical utterance) I begin to fantasize: I will be able to love again. All the holes someone poked into me- I will be able to close them up. By your ooze, by glitter, by liquid, and light, and conversations in which I am considered fresh with my honesty. And then? Then I have your face in mind, which is also full of holes, and you made use of them by shining little lights.

I still would like to love. Not in the way I've learned and taught (all the names that seemed off now come in handy: emotional blackmailing, gas lighting, being straight.) And every technique of domination has a dimension of lust, as well as power, to it. There is a vision I cling to, clearing the route once and for all, because we're not coming back: we dive into each other's folds. There's no hate or disappointment that couldn't be survived. There are only warm centers pulsing. I can feel you, touching your tighly closing-in walls, and I wrap myself up in your spreads. A space has opened up by focussing on spelling, and details, and redemption.

I will need two more years to accept that I have been raped. Not once or twice, and in a way far too close to home, which I will discover, was never home to begin with. I will need to break with you, let the passion seep out of our shared fabrics, to see that I've dyed and redyed myself so often that I don't recognize which parts I would want to keep. To be able to chose even is a novelty to me. I will need someone else to tell me, everyone can be trans, in order to break down some of the patterns.

When I stumble upon you again, we're far apart, and our break-up is something that sits untouched by both of us. On a quiet night I ask myself wether you've forgotten my pain. You chose to roll down your safety screen at some point, when working around my pain ranked high on the daily agenda and you wanted to be somewhere else, possibly wanted to have more space for your own pain and I wouldn't know. You seemed so light, dangling in the air, and I loved that about you, and around the corner of my own shame, I can still feel my love for you. No that I don't expect anything anymore, I can see you again, as the disco ball you turn yourself into, time and time again.

I still would like to love. This is unfinished. The question how to relate to another seems intimidatingly big, too intertwined with all the things I won't allow myself to think about. What is anything? As I am growing older, I can feel the crushes pop up and recede again, like waves, reliable, steady in their changing nature. I don't know where, or if, to lean on. I am going back in time, trying to pinpoint the phase when love and loving became difficult, because I know for sure, it has been easy once. There was a time when I had just arrived, being untouched yet by patriarchy, and shame, and violence, and it hasn't been birth. The phases come and go, they come and they go. This is unfinished, and indeed, I'm breaking down into smaller and smaller questions, posing them at a slower and slower speed.

[confidencekid]

65 Questions You’ve Probably Never Been Asked… 

          aka ‘mel gets bored and does an early 2010s style facebook survey’ 

First thing you wash in the shower? my chest/torso probably.

What color is your favorite hoodie? need more hoodies lol, i hate all of my current ones so i just perpetually wear t-shirts/tank tops/etc

Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? probably not. but i’d be a fool to rule out anything at all.

Do you plan outfits? lately i try to but it doesn’t really. work.

How are you feeling RIGHT now? mm bored but really nervous about actually posting this for people to see. i’ll probably look vain or something but i’m honestly just bored and feeling a little chatty and like talking about myself.

What’s the closest thing to you that’s red? just before you reach the red strawberry pin on the floor next to my bed there’s an arc and a question mark scrawled on a piece of paper in red ink.

Tell me about the last dream you remember having? um i’m really bad memory. i just remember it was something involving people from my real life, all in a situation that presented itself as vaguely realistic.

Did you meet anybody new today? do customers count? if not, then no.

What are you craving right now? well. nothing, until i was asked. now i’m craving physical affection and oh lord something else.

Do you floss? think of how often you go to a restaurant named luby’s or jim’s. now think about how often you go to mcdonald’s, or order from pizza hut. how often i floss is how often i go to luby’s. i’ve never been to jim’s but i’m thinking about going.

What comes to mind when I say cabbage? garbage pail kids

Are you emotional? very much. barely at all some moments. it’s the depression.

Have you ever counted to 1,000? no haha

Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it? i bit it once just to see how fools are living like. if you don’t go down on that cone like a cock every single time from start to finish then what are you doing with your life?

Do you like your hair? it’s alright but i’m trying to like it more. i often feel like cutting it all off so i’m trying to stop that. but i’m also not. who knows, maybe i’ll cut it all off tomorrow. who knows.

Do you like yourself? probably not. but. i still feel myself sometimes, in some ways. like now. like tonight. i will not go into more detail, no, no way.

Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush? um lol HA. that actually made me really uncomfortable to think about asdjkngnjkdf lol

What are you listening to right now? myself typing, clicking, and tapping. also a/c units running outside and people messing with the trunks of their cars, probably. opp, some guy just randomly sang something.

Are your parents strict? my mother wanted to be, but in the end she was just very... overbearing. i think ‘opinionated’ is the word if we’re not using loaded language. my dad didn’t live with us but whenever me and my brother saw him he always tried to compensate and be the ‘cool guy’ and buy us stuff and take us places but i think deep down he wanted to beat our tails. now he’s just kind of there. lol

Would you go sky diving? lord help me. i have to, don’t i?

Do you like cottage cheese? yeah it’s cool and it goes with EVERYTHING. though i probably won’t be eating it so much since i’m restricting the dairy and gluten in my diet to... near-nonexistent levels.

Have you ever met a celebrity? local radio personality. i was like 12. my mom and him talked like real people and i just kind of stood there in awe. we listened to him almost every day. he will never not be a celebrity to me.

Do you rent movies often? redbox is cool but i’ve kind of been shying away from it lately. it just seems like a waste of money when things like the internet exist. redbox is more of an impulse thing at this point, like i’ll see it walking out of walmart or h-e-b or whatever and i’ll see something i haven’t watched yet and i’ll just. ooh hmm okay checkout checkout checkout where’s my card.

Is there anything sparkly in the room you’re in? yeah um i don’t even have to look it’s probably that bottle of victoria’s secret glitter lotion i have on the floor. now THAT was an impulse buy.

How many countries have you visited? only 1. venezuela. i guess technically panama doesn’t count since it was just the layover coming back from venezuela? i would probably normally count it but i had contracted some kind of weird traveler’s sickness by that point and i was barely even... ‘there,’ if you know what i mean. i slept, ate, and sicked.

Have you made a prank phone call? i participated in one but? i mostly find it funny to hear other people do them.

Ever been on a train? yup. lol.

Brown or white eggs? um brown are probably better for you but who cares?

Do you have a cell phone? mm

Do you use chap stick? sometimes. it makes me feel cool and good. i love the fruity flavors and how soft they have your lips feeling.

Do you own a gun? naw. not even a water gun, son.

Can you use chop sticks? in a symbolic sense

Who are you going to be with tonight? probably some online prostitute. ...i would say if i had money.

Are you too forgiving? well not anymore. i’d say i’m about average. i’m still pretty forgiving though, in the sense that i don’t really hold grudges.

Ever been in love? ugh yeah f moving on

What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow? what best friend(s)

Ever have cream puffs? yum. them boys go *softcrunch* then *pooof*

Last time you cried? lol it just kind of happens and then i mostly forget about it. it wasn’t really... recently, though. probably a week or two ago.

What was the last question you asked? what best friend(s)

Favorite time of the year? winter. summer. tax season. who cares.

Do you have any tattoos? mm. yeah.

Are you sarcastic? i’m less ‘edgy sarcastic’ these days and more ‘please shut up.’ i guess i make really offbeat jokes sometimes that can be considered sarcasm with actual sarcasm bleeding through occasionally?

Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect? if i have, i can’t remember the plot. probably not. any good? wait, you’re a survey, you can’t answer. uhh, i think it’ll be good.

Ever walked into a wall? probably. probably more than once.

Favorite color? i like purple. any shade of it really. i also like a lot of other colors quit putting me in a box lol

Have you ever slapped someone? in a high school play in 11th grade. i... still get sad thinking about that play, even though the memory of the Big Slap is a lighthearted one. the guy i had to slap was a real cutie about it, even though i had to slap him really hard and many times in rehearsal to make it believable.

Is your hair curly? yeah. always. eternally.

What was the last CD you bought? um. the disney dream duet cd? the gurren lagann radio cd? kidz bop 34? i honestly can’t remember. probably kidz bop 34 though since i pretty much listed those in order lol.

Do looks matter? if i don’t know you yet. but we can change that. quickly. trust me.

Could you ever forgive a cheater? only because i’d want to be forgiven. but i guess if i’m being honest, i’d have to have my idiot cap on that day to forgive someone who cheated on me, even if they apologized and cried/swore they’d never do it again, that it was a mistake, etc etc. wow i’m a real mean one. but i guess at the end of the day whether or not i forgive them just comes down to whether or not i believe their apology/repentance speech.

Is your phone bill sky high? *yui hirasawa voice* SKY HIGH!

Do you like your life right now? oo lol

Do you sleep with the TV on? no, not really. unless i fall asleep. but i don’t do it on purpose like a lot of people do.

Can you handle the truth? CAN YOU SMELLLLL, WHAT THE ROCK IS COOKIN’?! me neither, but he’s still cookin’ it. and pretty soon, that meal’s gonna be served.

Do you have good vision? oh no. no sweetie.

Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people? no. i don’t like doing that.

How often do you talk on the phone? whenever i have to. never really for non-business things except to check in with my sister. as far as skype/discord stuff goes, not often. i’m pretty much a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants person when it comes to dusting off that old mic and chatting with someone with voiceboxes.

The last person you held hands with? am i supposed to name them or like...? *awkwardly skirts the question*

What are you wearing? undah wear.

What is your favorite animal? cats probably. marine animals are pretty cool, too. i LOVE manatees. pretty much all animals are lovely and gifts to the world.

Where was your profile picture taken at? i had just finished battling some beastmen and they ran off into the sunset screaming something i couldn’t really make out and i was feeling really awesome.

Can you hula hoop? i’ve never really done it successfully, no. i think you either have to be in shape, or have rhythm. i’m not in the greatest shape right now, and i don’t have rhythm.

Do you have a job? yea

What was the most recent thing you bought? a garden salad with fajita chicken at chacho’s. mmmmmmmm. oh and whatever my sister ate. hot wings and freakin french fries

Have you ever crawled through a window? maybe lol. rip this survey

[goglobalsmizz]

Chris O'Brien Lifehouse

How is care designed through spaces?

What does it suggest when a place has good design in its space, compared to normal hospitals where it’s *just* a substandard clinical design. That leaves you and the place feeling bland, feeling institutionalised?

You could argue that it doesn’t make much difference in the great scheme of things, given that within cancer care (for example) it’s saving your life. Does it matter what the space and the materials look like?

I remember when I was doing my AS levels at high school, we got the option of “AS level in science for public understand” It was a great class- and one thing we had to do was use science knowledge with research criticality and present debates from a psycho-social perspective of issues. One things I had to write an essay on was whether sick-building syndrome was real. At the time I guess I was a bit skeptical, but now experience and a much deeper knowledge of social determinate and driments, and the power of architecture and space, and asbestos has changed my perception. Of course a building could technically make you sicker. Think mould on the walls in tenants houses with crappy landlords.

Yes, the visual and spatial concerns matter.  There’s endless studies that show having a view from a hospital bed increases the likelihood of a faster recovery (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0360132312001758), the influences of landscape features on visitation of hospital green spaces makes the perception of care better ((2017) International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health)

The visual language of healthcare fascinates me no end. How different countries do it, how we negotiate it, how we hack it, how we begin to love it. 

 The differentiation we make. So the hospital space is super clinical, and the Maggies Centre is purpose design and uniquely built. For example, why isn’t the contemporary art work from the local contemporary art gallery collection in the hospital, instead of the Maggies centre?

Jane generosity gave us a tour of the Lifehouse Cancer Centre, a place which she knows intimately.

I dragged Vanda with me, I said, “it’ll be interesting!” I’m sure this is  exactly what she had in mind when I said we’d explore Sydney together. We get there too early to meet Jane and wander around the campus site.  There’s a fancy McCafe, where all the ER staff are getting drinks and cakes.  It has a great working desk space. We get drinks and wander around the sites. There’s a hospital that looks like a cheap holiday resort in Spain. Maybe it’s the palm trees that gives it that vibe. When we share our observations with Jane she laughs. It’s not the point of reference she’s used to.

We walk around the whole Lifehouse building and come across Street art on the wall.

I’ve never seen street art on a hospital before. Murals, yes. But there is a significant difference between mural and street-art. Street art is cool, rebellious, it has it’s beat to the ground up. Murals tend to be a safe version of wall-art. It’s history lies in a different part of activism history to street-art. but they did start off more political - but the mural has lost its edge as a more fuzzy & controlled art-form. Groups & institutions, like charities, schools and hospitals, like murals. They think it represents community, often made by someone who *might* have spoken to some people there to design it. So they’d like to think it’s a collaboration - but as Vanda said when we wandered underground in Sydney & the walls were painted by a never ending mural - it has a communist vibe. It’s like pretending things are cool - a mask. But underneath that, is a power-battle. Street-art seems to somehow escape this rebranding, this fuzziness. It still feels edgy - maybe it’s the spray paint material?

I make a mental note of street art.

And we meet Jane in the lobby. She takes us in a glass lift. This changes the hospital vibe for sure. Even in good hospitals in the UK, the lifts tend to be big, metal and dark.

She takes us to the chemotherapy lounge and gets the head nurse, K. , to give a tour. (they work together on research papers and projects together now). She tells us it used to be open plan, but now everyone gets their own booth. It’s very private. If you’re lucky - you get a seat with a window view.

There’s a beautiful vine flower bush growing over the window, giving a different perspective of being in Italy along the coast or something.  I think back to the chemotherapy departments I’ve been in. One had a conservatory, which was nice in a way for the natural light but there was nothing to look at. Just the carpark of Doncaster. The other 2 had windows but they were built up high. All these spaces were mostly open planned. Different types of “comfortable leathery” deep chairs. I remember just watching tennis, wimbledon, on a  communal TV. Other times I got told I should bring a book/magazine.  

K. explains why things are like they are. It makes sense. Chemo is highly hazardous and toxic. For clinical reasons. I ask to take a photo of the empty half overflow section, and she moves the magazines out of the way to make it look tidier. Weird how we think items outside of the hospital can make the space seem less “clinical” or messy.

We say how much we like the wallpaper, which is drawings of people sketched all over. It’s contemporary. Like an art piece almost. K. says they have drawn themselves on pieces of paper and have put them onto the wall like a lil where’s wally. I love that idea. Hacking, personalising the space, putting identity back into it.

On the way out I notice near the self-checkin machines there’s a cool comic about cancer framed on the wall. I wonder about whether it’s available for people in print-out to take away and not just as cool art, as it captures something a lot of hospital literature doesn’t.

Jane then takes us to the “Patients only” space. It’s a room that’s like a library. Many shelves of books, 2 computers, an over and kitchen space and huge table with a massive 5,000 piece jigsaw on. At the window there’s models made from lolly-pop sticks, models of the hospital. Which is curious. Around the corner is a sleep area. I am impressed.

When I walked around a Maggies Centre in the UK, it was encouraged that people could just go there and sleep in front of everyone in the area. Just a place to take a chill in a social environment, not to be alone. And I always wondered why outpatients (& indeed general public space!) never had a space where you could have a little snooze. I can’t tell you how tired I am every time I’ve been at the hospital, even for just blood-tests. The subconscious worry and positioning of where you are takes its toll.

Jane says no healthcare professionals or hospital staff can use this space, it’s for patients only. I like that they have their own space. This is just so rare.

We leave and enter a huge open space, which is the support area. Here there’s everything: lymphodeama clinics, physios, occupational therapists, acupuncture, massage, support, and an amazzzzing gym. Better than our staff gym in Leeds.  Jane says there’s always personal trainers to help support you in whatever you want to do . Both Vanda and myself are really impressed. The view leaves a lot to be desired - but Jane has already thought this through. She wants to make a garden of sorts.

We go to leave. I notice now that the wallpaper is typography over layered into patterns. As a font lover, type-setter, I love it. Why does this make a difference to me? Why do I appreciate that the time and the focus has been taken to chose something as classy as this?

Everywhere we go I see piece of “art” but they’re placed and framed almost like interventions.  They’re not mounted on the wall. They don’t feel tired and aged like a lot of "hospital art*” does.

(* I hate that i’ve just called in “hospital art”, but what I mean here is that the general theme of what art tends to be placed in the institution - expressive abstract that’s done in natural and calm colours, or tried-and-tested landscape images. Rarely do we get contemporary art - and when we do it’s hidden away. Not given the agency for what it was made for in the first place. Very interesting) These hospital art interventions I am assuming is done through the Art-Studio - which is open for patients. Like art therapy, but the images on the leaflet make it look like a proper university art class. I hope it really is.

But it feels light and contemporary and more tasteful than what I normally see (what I normally see s something like a primary school work display).

What I do notice though, is that there’s a lot of silhouettes. Drawn people on the wallpaper, drawn profiles on tracing paper that hangs alone in the lobby, outline drawn tracings of people onto the window. It adds an energy but it’s an interesting thing to focus on.  

Given one of the issues with a major life-threatening illness, such as cancer, and how the treatment and the healthcare institution often make our identities feel transient and lost and/or stripped. Here we have a reminder, like ghosts, that people where here.  Maybe that’s a dark reading, perhaps they serve as reminders of people hanging in there - making sure that we can hack the system, and its environment by literally making it more person focused.

Jane shows us from the lobby which is a good few floors above other floors below and tells us how different areas are part of different hospitals and she needs 3 different patient numbers to enter 3 different places within the same building.  That separation is incredible to think about. Ownership, and responsibility. It goes to show too, that even though having a beautiful space with areas of ownership, and agency, DOES make a difference to your experience of care - it’s just so important to get the basics nailed too. 3 separate numbers for the same building is asking for a mistake to be made. And as we go to split up for the evening, Jane says how she did not like the idea of coming to this centre for her treatment. But as she went through her care, she grew to love the building and it’s people and community. That this place is also a part of her.

Such an incredible experience and observation, that the space moves her to continue to be a part of it  and is now on the board to help with maintaining and enhancing the vision and care. And of course, Jane has a lot of cool ideas and projects which need to be acted upon.

But even if we didn’t read any research on the positive effects of design / art in hospitals and recovery - just hearing how Jane felt through these spaces spoke volumes.

What is really interesting to take forward too, is that we have focused on design within architectural and spatial context. How the environment can generate this feeling of being cared for, being part of something. Maggies Centres are a great example of this. Lifehouse is a great example of hospital meets a Maggie’s centre vibe - meeting half way point between clinical and personable. Clinical and thoughtful. Business meets family/friends.

However, we look across the board to any institutions patient information - very few spend the same amount of time and understanding of design and experience through aesthetics to this area. Despite it being fundamental to consenting, understanding and experience and control.   All forms of caring, institutional as well as personal, require that attention be paid to purpose, power, and particularity. Identifying these three as the critical elements for assessing practices of care grows out of any understanding that takes care as a relational practice. As we think about institutional settings for care, we rarely invoke similar language about purposefulness or about power and particularity. And it is here where I am the most interested and why all of this exists in different forms, in different places, or in some areas not at all. And that dark-matter really interests me.

[demshootangames-blog]

Ghost recon wildlands

Boy, some game. My beta impressions of the game were hilarious. The game was an incredible mess and still is, but now mostly by design. Or rather the lack of good design. Many issues have been patched, but you can’t patch out poor game design choices! It’s a half decent operators operating kind of a open world game. Where you go about in a weird version of Bolivia, dismantling the operations of a huge drug cartel as well as give the corrupted military/police/whatever a good kicking on the side. The game features a huge map where you can choose freely where to go, when to go and clear any area of the map at your on pace, in any order. You essentially go to a zone, gather intel, do story missions and then take down a leader in that zone, move on to the next until bigger guys notice you and then you go after them. Its open ended in every way, you can do full stealth or go in boom boom bang bang if you so wish, but the more loud option is sometimes the harder option, especially when going against unidad (the military types) since they can call in some pretty dangerous helicopters and such if the fight draws out to be a long one. Though to the games credit, escaping unidad can lead to some hilarious moments here and there. All this sounds fun on paper, right? Well, honestly. It kind of is sometimes. To my surprise. Though mostly fun in co-op with a friend or two. The AI is not only worthless (makes sense balance wise), but their presence is so weird. They can teleport to your car if you drive past them and don’t pick them up, they barely ever die and it seems like that they can conveniently teleport to your location if you get downed so they can revive you. They are like literal ghosts. The biggest issue with the AI however is their “banter”. Its so fucking bad. It tries to be this “cool&edgy” grizzled military talk with some pretty cringy, poorly used operator jargon thrown in here and there. It’s all so poorly delivered and the voice actors are just...not good honestly. One of them especially sounds so fucking irritating. They make awful jokes that are not funny in any way and none of them have any character to them. Their voices are mixed so stupidly in there too. Just adding some reverb when indoors could have helped. This dialogue is carried over even to co-op, but its slightly less present there. I was mostly playing with one friend, we had markers off (of course the game has that irritating thing where you can see spotted enemies through walls, but you could turn it off, thank god), played on a harder difficulty and I have to say that when you get into the roleplaying mode, the game becomes fun after you get used to its shitty parts. Still, there is some dialogue there during missions and such and so many times we both went “hooly fuck SHUT UP! YOU ARE RUINING THE MOOD!”. The open ended nature of the game was to its detriment sometimes. The map is huge and it has many good different areas in it. There are desert areas, a salt flat area, jungles, a marsh, forests, coastal areas. A wide variety of places which was nice. But since the game has this system where you can find the guns and attachments in different regions after you gather intel in those areas, the first 10 hours of the game was “oh, FAMAS is in that zone, lets go there!” and we traveled from one zone to another, just picking up weapons and not doing any of the missions. We could have just...not done that, but there was always some weapon than I or my friend wanted and we just couldn’t control ourselves. The game also has no structure and the story gets drowned underneath a chaos of random information about the bosses in the areas and such. When you enter a new zone, you get a new video briefing for the boss of that area and it wont go away until you fucking watch it. It all got in the way. Most of the bosses/leaders were honestly pretty interestingly made character wise, but taking them down felt like taking down any other trivial enemy in most cases aside from few exceptions. One leader we took out accidentally during their main mission. We didn’t realize that the target was there until one of us had accidentally shot her. Not good!

There is a bunch of weapons in the game and most of them handle okay after you get used to them. Most of them are not really useful on paper, but I never get bothered by that. I’ll use guns that I like based on their looks, sometimes I didn’t attach any scopes on them, no lasers most of the time just to make the guns look neat. I like that. Having options on that stuff is always great. The character customization was alright too, but it could have been a bit more extensive. More actual military gear would have been neat.

There is lots of optional stuff that has a purpose. Like gather resources/skillpoints to allow you to get all kinds of perks and new equipment. I liked that, it could have been better, but most of the options there were meaningful. Like more resistance to bullets, getting an EMP or an explosive charge on your drone, a grenade launcher, a parachute for base jumping/jumping from planes etc. There were some pointless ones, but I like how squishy you start out as and you can upgrade yourself to live at least a moment longer in firefights. Allows for some more fun later on. You can gather resources by tagging stuff in towns, small and large enemy camps, military bases etc. You can also stop enemy convoys that were always pretty hard, but it was actually fun. Some drive by action that always seemed to go south. Chasing a convoy, people firing back and forth wildly, unidad car driving randomly by, getting hit and then they are added to the mix. Sometimes a fuel truck we were supposed to stop and tag ended up exploding due to it, but it was still fun. Then there are some building clearing missions, some infuriating “drive to this place before time runs out” stuffs and so on. The main missions did have a good amount of variety to them. Some forced stealth missions, tailing missions, interrogations and personnel extractions, some simple ones like blow up drug caches. The ones where you need to grab some guy from a base were the most fun ones. Sometimes we did them mostly by stealth, by it always went to shit towards the end. It almost always ended up in everything exploding, my friend stealing a shitty car from somewhere, we would throw the guy we need into the trunk and drive away. Good stuff.

The stealth system is a bit so so. You can sneak fairly well and as long as you sync up shots and go for close range/melee kills, you can stay undetected pretty well. The is a cover system, but the character sticks to  cover automatically. Its fairly smooth, but I sometimes wished that I could have just locked myself into a cover without accidentally jumping out of cover. The enemies are fairly perceptive (atleast on the harder difficulties, I hear they are braindead on normal and apparently rarely notice dead bodies) and they actually flank and investigate areas well. For some time we played without the minimap too and we had to use mines if we chose to be sniping far away. Few times they surprised us by coming from a weird direction in great numbers and gunned us down before we could say SHIT.

Firefights themselves play out fine. It took a while to learn to aim in the shoulder view without the crosshair, but it wasn’t too hard. There is an actual aim down sights mode that is sometimes a bit awkward, but works fine for medium/long ranges. Actual close quarters firefights were almost always incredibly awkward. Many of the indoor areas are so cramped and the third person view was to the games detriment there. Sometimes I died when playing solo because the camera would not co-operate with me and I couldn’t see some areas as well as I would have in first person shooters. In Co-op it wasn’t that much a problem since we cleared houses and such at the same time. I really wish there were more larger indoors areas. There were factories that you could enter, a few mansions, a casino and so on. But they were criminally underused. At least the military bases and cities had a good amount of buildings you could enter. Sniping was fine balance wise, but the bullet drop was pretty ridiculous. DMR’s for example completely worthless when not in stealth as in stealth enemies have less health. When they are in combat mode, their body armor magically becomes effective. It’s fine honestly, but feels a bit odd how a fucking DMR turns into a worthless piece of junk. Only bolt action snipers were worth it, but I don’t really like sniper rifles so I rarely used those. I mostly ran with an SMG and LMG setup. Sometimes an AR and a shotgun. When playing with a friend, he did most of the sniping. I would spot targets for him or just go sneak around in some objective area and he watched my back from the distance. It was honestly pretty fun like that. We mostly drove/flew to places and tried to avoid fast travel, but goddamnit the cars are fucking horrible. They have no weight to them. They are like balloons that have tires glued to them. They slide all over the place, they can climb any surface and any terrain. A sports car has no trouble climbing a steep mountain in the middle of the jungle. The biggest issue really is the lack of weight with them. They feel so weird. Car chases and stopping convoys was still fun when on asphalt roads, but when it went to the dirt roads, it all became nightmarish.

The people saying the game is okay in co-op were right. I’ll give them that. It can be fun when playing with someone you get along with, but overall the open world plague, the lack of refinement and lack of structure really bring this potentially great game down. I oddly enough enjoyed my time with it and I can see myself dropping back in from time to time if need be. But if you want to operate like an operator operates, just play rainbow six siege. The game ended up being better than I imagined it would, but its still not great. Its not for everyone and you have to be able to overlook a huge amount of irritations and issues. Most of which you get used to overtime. One reason why I can look at it so positively is the fact that I didn’t buy this game myself. My friend bought it to me since I refused to drop 60eurodoubloons on this game. So my view on its actual value is a bit all over the place due to this. If you are not tired of the open world genre, you might actually enjoy this far more than I did. 6/10 worth getting from a sale, grab a friend with you and you can have a surprisingly good time. Avoid cars, disable HUD elements and increase the difficulty. Take your time and try to clear areas in order and you might make some sense of the overall story.