#anyway i understand being annoyed by its prevalence in that light…

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

What’s your opinion on cross guild? I’m sending this on anon because I kinda hate them while everybody loves them. I think it’s because Buggy is my favourite character and I just can’t see it as anything other than abuse😭 Do you think their dynamic will change? Is my opinion based on unconditional clown love?

i think the fanon toxic polycule concept is kinda funny? like, the idea of buggy continuing to fail upward in life into a triad with two very powerful people who started out hating him? hysterical. does it have a strong basis in canon? no. just about every buggy ship has to be taken with a grain of “let’s ignore the reality of the situation here” salt. my own buggy ship is not immune to this! but cross guild… really needs that seasoning.

in canon it’s more a hostage situation than a relationship—albeit a pretty slapstick hostage situation, as despite their best efforts mihawk and crocodile cannot control buggy or his followers at all, and the injuries buggy takes are treated pretty lightly by the narrative.

in that context, it makes sense that sexual interpretations of cross guild would have strong vibes of either bdsm or ipv. i’m not surprised it’s upsetting for you.

in the end, it’s something i could be convinced to read a mundane au about, where dynamics are always softened to better fit the setting, but that’s about it for me re: the trio. i don’t expect their dynamic to change much, even if buggy manages to rope them into going along with his one piece questing, and i don’t much care.

now, the pairs within the trio?

crocodile and buggy is just “give me my money” -> flight response -> threats of violence -> fawn response -> actual violence -> desperate fawn response. good god. i get why it brings out certain impulses in certain readers—buggy begs to lick the man’s boots, ffs—but it does not really do anything for me, and i don’t expect that to change. crocodile wants money and power, which buggy respects because same, but as he has less of both he can’t really offer crocodile much of anything, and crocodile seems very aware and disdainful of that.

buggy and mihawk is theoretically very fun for the same reason luffy interacting with either of them is fun: they all have a connection to shanks that makes their interactions with anyone else who knows shanks so weird. they cannot be normal about that guy. in practice, none of that has shown up, we’ve just seen mihawk offended by buggy’s personality/reputation/aesthetic and buggy flinching away from his glares. (i can’t imagine mihawk punching someone, so i suspect all of buggy’s injuries came from crocodile… probably because the only way mihawk could actually hurt buggy would be with lethal force.) i’m hopeful, as has been indicated in previous mihawk posts, that we’ll get something more here eventually.

mihawk and crocodile legitimately made me go oh, hm in that first cross guild chapter. crocodile calls this guy up out of nowhere to say, “hey, i notice your job security kinda sucks right now, want to join my company? we have a lot in common… we both hate other people…” is there a history between these two, or did crocodile just get good vibes off him the one time they both bothered to show up for a warlord meeting? i want to know more. if these two ever get rid of buggy, would they actually be any good at managing baroque works 2: crossy guild? idk. i suspect without a scapegoat to redirect their anger onto they’d start having unavoidable personality conflicts, regardless of their managerial competencies, but even that could be fun to watch fall apart.

[askygokindredshipping]

Never say “Yes” to Ghost Hunting... Unless....

Summary: Ghost Hunting AU anyone? Judai and Johan are sensitives and realize that Yusei is partially sensitive when he momentarily spots their familiar spirits Yubel and Ruby. However, Yusei doesn’t believe in them and thinks that the two of them are out of their minds. Can looking for non-existent beings lead to something else? (No Duel Monsters in this AU. Yubel and Ruby are both human spirits that died generations ago.)

Author’s Notes: Now that I am in a place where I don’t feel completely overwhelmed by everything and can remember to actually post here, here it is! This is the story I kept promising for that mini bang I was apart of! @hyperionnebulae​ did a fantastic job of setting it up. I’ll link the full collection at the end. Also, I had an amazing artist and I’ll edit this post with their information. The piece that they did is *chef’s kiss*.  I do know that you can visit their DeviantArt page and I highly encourage you to do so! 

Anyway, enjoy!

Yusei’s face was not looking down at the screen of his laptop, but instead, he was staring at the two men sitting across from him. It was a warm, sunny evening and he had decided that he was going to do some of his work at the local coffee shop so that he could focus. Focus. What a funny word it was. That was exactly what he was not doing.

Two young men were sitting at the table next to him, chatting amicably about something he didn't quite catch. While they were both very appealing to the eyes, they didn’t interest him nearly as much as the two people sitting next to both of them. These two figures were translucent and clearly injured. He was not a doctor, that was Aki’s area of expertise, but he’d seen enough in his day to recognize deadly injuries like those. The tallest one (Yusei couldn’t quite determine which gender either of the translucent people were and decided it was probably best not to assume anything) had a scar that went down its face, nearly dividing it in two and what looked like a jewel embedded into its forehead. Their hair was a soft, metallic blue color. The other one was shorter with wide, ruby-colored eyes and lavender colored hair, a clear bloodstain blooming from their chest and out against their lovely lavender blouse. The tall one said something to the man next to it. He responded casually. Like… like there was nothing wrong!

Yusei blinked.

They were gone.

He breathed in deep and quickly turned back to his computer screen, the words suddenly not making any kind of sense as something cold shot up his spine. No. There was no way. Those things did not exist. He refused to accept what he had just seen. There had to be a logical explanation.

Didn’t there?

“Excuse me,” a voice asked him, “Are you alright?” He looked up. The two men at the table were now looking at him. The one who spoke had teal-blue colored hair and equally blue eyes; he wore a light lavender colored blouse-style shirt with a darker blue vest over the top. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“Or you’ve seen a ghost,” the other added. He was dressed in a dark t-shirt with a red jacket over it. His hair was a light brown and stood out in nearly every direction (not that Yusei could judge with his own black mess) and his eyes were a warm brown. He took a breath as he registered the statement. A ghost? Those things did not exist.

But….

“I’m fine,” he finally answered. He couldn’t stop himself as he blurted out, “but what happened to your two friends?” The two of them shared a look.

“It’s only been us here,” the brown haired one said.

Yusei blinked, “You mean you don’t have two friends that are dressed up for Halloween somewhere around here?”

“Oh, they just left,” the blue haired one cut in just as the brown haired one went to say something. He shot the other a look and it seemed to take a second but, eventually, he got the meaning and quickly clamped his mouth shut again.

“They couldn’t have left that quickly,” he argued. “Are you pulling some kind of prank?” They shared a look again, and Yusei started to get mildly annoyed with it. They didn’t say anything to him for some time. Finally, he closed his laptop and stood to pack his things. Clearly, this was not where he was meant to be. Before he could walk away from the table, the brown-haired guy caught his wrist gently; electricity shot up Yusei’s arm and he flinched at the sensation even though it did not hurt. It felt a bit good.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, releasing him. “It’s just… Can we walk with you for a bit? Here’s not the place to talk.” Yusei blinked. A couple of alarms went off in his mind, but he ignored them, in favor of nodding his consent, and the three of them left together.

The brown-haired guy leaned forward as they walked, “I’m Judai Yuki and this is my partner, Johan Anderson.” Johan raised a hand in greeting when Yusei looked at him.

“Yusei Fudo.”

“Nice to meet you Yusei,” Johan greeted. Judai smiled and continued introducing the two of them.

“We’re paranormal investigators; basically, we work to help people in desperate situations involving anything they can’t explain or handle.” He straightened, walking forward a little bit. Yusei couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Ghost? You two deal with ghosts?”

“More or less,” Johan nodded.

“You do understand ghosts aren’t real?” They shared another look.

“Yeah, that’s what a lot of people say.”

“But we happen to know differently.”

Yusei stopped and leaned his head to the side a bit, “Alright, I’ll bite. What is your proof? A grainy photo? Horribly shot night-vision scenes? A scar you got from something being magically thrown at you?” Johan snickered and Judai had to cover his mouth with his hand. After a few seconds, the two of them could not help but laugh at his response. Yusei was taken a bit off guard. “What’s so funny?”

“You were so deadpanned when you were asking,” Judai breathed.

“It was hilarious,” Johan added. Yusei found himself blushing a bit, and he turned his head away, trying to not let them see how embarrassed he was. They recovered after a few moments. “And to answer your question, nothing like that.” He pointed off over his shoulder, “Do you see them?”

Yusei looked, then shook his head. “See who?”

“Our friends from the café,” Judai clarified. Yusei looked over their shoulders again, but still only saw the street in front of them. He shook his head.

“Nobody’s there.”

“But you did see them in the café?”

“I saw something ,” Yusei pointed out. “I don’t know what it is I saw.”

“Deny it all you want Yusei,” Judai returned, “but you did ask us about it, which meant that you did see them.” He pointed between the two of them. “Johan and I are mediums. We can communicate with spirits and we’re pretty certain that you’re at least a little bit sensitive since you could see our familiars briefly. You can’t see them right now even though they are standing next to us without utilizing too much of theirs or our energy.” Judai nodded, as if his point made a whole ton of sense. “I wonder what it would take to help you see them again? What made it possible at the café?”

“Do you think the setting had something to do with it,” Johan added. “I remember reading a report that that café has natural running water under it.”

“That might have something to do with it.”

“You two are crazy,” Yusei returned. Nothing they said made any sense! Ghosts didn’t exist, but now they were claiming… all of this ? Johan smiled at him apologetically.

“It’s a lot the first time. You probably don’t believe us, but I have a suggestion.” He clapped his hands together. “Why don’t you come with us tonight? We have a job at a local place this evening. It’ll give us a chance to show you what you’re talking about and to confirm if you are sensitive or not.”

“Full offense, but I just met you.”

“I know.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” That took him by surprise and Yusei felt staggered a bit. “But you might find it more interesting than you think. I promise.” Yusei looked between the two of them. Logically, he had no reason to trust either one of them. Something in his gut, though, told him something completely different; it was whispering that he should take the chance and see where this was going to lead. After a few seconds of the two of them staring him down, he finally sighed. He raised his hands in defeat.

“Alright. I’ll join you.”

Johan and Judai smiled at each other.

My, my, my- how the night had suddenly turned around.

*****

The house they were investigating turned out to be an older mansion on the outskirts of the city. Yusei made sure to let a couple of people know where he was going. Martha was worried, of course, but Jack and Crow got a huge trip out of the fact that he, Yusei Fudo, was going ghost hunting. Of all things in the world.

What a weird first date , they had teased.

He had left the house with red across his nose and both cheeks, but he had not given them the satisfaction of seeing it. Yusei slammed the door on his way out.

He now sat leaned up against his red motorcycle. Neither of them had arrived yet. This left him time to do a little extra research on the address on his transparent tablet. The mansion was built in the year XXXX by a rich mogul who wanted a place for his new bride to be the mistress of; however, he built over sacred ground, despite multiple warnings, and thus, “cursed” the home and his family for all eternity. They lost several children in birth and early into childhood. Eventually, the wife passed of an illness, but information on which one was scarce. Her death was the final straw for him. The mogul retired from the home and disappeared into obscurity. It was left to rot. Reports of families moving in and immediately moving out were plentiful in the first few decades after the original owner’s leaving, but quickly teetered off as rumors of a haunting became more prevalent.

He scrolled up on his tablet, murmuring. “Reports of a white lady…. Children laughing… shadow figures…. Objects being thrown. So just your run of the mill hoax?”

“Well, even if it is a hoax, it’s still our job to ease the worries of our customer.” He looked up, not necessarily startled by the sound of Johan’s voice, but a bit surprised that he hadn’t heard them approaching, especially in the large, older van they were driving. Judai was behind him, starting to mess with some equipment. Yusei closed the tablet and placed it in his pocket. “We’re glad you decided to come. What’d you find in your research?”

“Nothing out of this world,” he confirmed, arms still crossed. “Pretty standard reports. White lady, children, objects being thrown.”

Johan nodded. He turned his head a bit, as if listening to someone, and he smiled after a few seconds before saying, “That was pretty much everything we were able to find or was given to us as in our initial customer request.” He paused for a second, “I better help Judai with the equipment. As brave as he is as a ghost hunter, he’s a complete ditz when it comes to setting it up.”

“Would you like me to help? I’m fairly good with technology.”

Johan shot him a grateful smile. “You don’t have to. We’re the ones that invited you out here.”

Yusei rolled up the sleeve of his jacket. “Don’t worry about it. I might as well do something useful now since I’m probably going to mess up your results anyway.” Johan shook his head but led him over to the wired mess that had become Judai. It took them about an hour, once they had untangled him, to set up all the equipment they planned to use and since they were getting paid a hefty price, they were using everything . EVP, static night vision, Mel meters, motion detectors. You name it, they had it. The sun was starting to set when they finally started to sync up all their equipment, recording audio introductions on their three different recording devices. Johan helped Yusei into a specially made vest with several different pieces of equipment attached to it such as a night vision camera, perspective camera, and a few other useful tools like glow sticks, back-up batteries, and flashlights. Yusei felt the electricity again as his hand brushed his arm. A soft blush touched his cheeks. He did not miss the fact that Johan had one as well. Was it possible that he was feeling it too? What was even more astounding to him was that this was the second time he had felt it… with both of them.

Judai smiled brightly when they came back from the back of the van, “That vest looks good on you Yusei.”

Oof, that blush was not going away any time soon.

“Thank you,” he managed to get out without sounding like a stammering idiot.

Yusei had had feelings for people before in his life. Aki, the young lady who had become one of his greatest friends of all time, was one such example. His friend Kiryu was another. However, he had never been in this kind of situation before; his feelings for the previous two had come at different times. This was new. And a bit confusing, especially with how fast everything was moving.

“Are you feeling alright,” Judai asked. Yusei turned to face him. He was looking up at him, his brow furrowed a bit. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“You make it sound like I’m regretting my wedding or something.”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure this isn’t as stressful as a wedding.” He smirked. “But if you’re feeling scared, I recommend hanging back behind us.”

“I can’t be scared of something that doesn’t exist.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Me being scared or ghosts being real?”

“Yes.”

Yusei shook his head as he walked away, and he followed. Johan bowed mockingly as he opened the front door. Judai gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before blowing a kiss back at Yusei and disappearing into the darkness, only the light of his flashlight illuminating a soft outline of his head and left shoulder. The two of them followed.

The entryway was as bad as you could imagine. Dust clung to everything. Spider webs decorated every corner, and the stairs, and the molding, and the walls, and basically every available square inch. Old paint and wallpaper were missing in great chunks. The building material was old and decayed. An odd sensation of dread shot through Yusei the longer he looked down the hallway. There was no discernible reason for the feeling. He grabbed both Judai’s and Johan’s shoulders, preventing them from stepping any further inside.

When they turned to look at him, he raised his hands apologetically, but dropped them and breathed, “Something isn’t right.”

Judai blinked, quickly looked to his right, and briefly nodded. “What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that if we go any further, something bad is going to happen.”

“But we’ve already been in here multiple times,” Johan assured him. “We had to set up all the static cameras, remember?”

Yusei hesitated. That was true. They’d already been in and out, and up and down all sets of stairs, as they’d been busy setting up static night vision cameras in a couple of the hotspots, specifically where the white lady and the children were often seen and heard moving about. Nothing seemed to happen during that time, and he rationalized that they would be fine in this moment.

The feeling, on the other hand, would not leave him alone.

He started to say something again, but Judai started moving inward and Johan followed. The feeling grew worse as he raised a hand to stop them.

A white figure suddenly appeared at the end of the narrow hallway. The three of them froze, but Judai, after a few seconds, threw a hand back. What Yusei could not see was how his eyes shifted from brown to green and orange, ready for whatever was about to occur. Johan took a step back. Something creaked. The white figure raised its head and with an unearthly scream, it shot forward at them. Judai jumped back. Johan moved in front of Yusei which put the three of them into roughly the same spot on the floor. Yusei looked down immediately as the sound of breaking wood caught his attention; just before the figure could reach them, he grabbed both of them close to him.

The floor gave way, and they fell into darkness.

*****

“Yusei, Yusei, Yusei!” He blinked. Everything felt sore and painful. It took him a few moments to remember that they had fallen through the floor. He groaned. Thankfully, nothing seemed broken, but he was going to be feeling this for the next few days; Martha was probably going to order him to go to a doctor, and for once, he probably wouldn’t protest it. A soft smile crossed Johan’s face. He was momentarily confused.

“I’m dead,” he breathed, “I swear I’m seeing an angel.”

“You wish,” Johan laughed. “But Judai and I owe you quite a bit for saving our lives.”

“What happened?”

Johan crossed his arms, contemplating on how much to share. “Well, you see….” He paused and changed his question, “Did you happen to see a white figure come at us?” Yusei shook his head.

He struggled to remember. Nothing came to mind however and he shook his head. “All I saw was you and Judai get defensive.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” he mused. Louder, he said, “Anyway, we all were standing on the same space and the floor gave way. You just barely managed to brace us against you before it happened. You took the brunt of the injury.” He pointed to some old bags of flour that were clearly busted in the fall. “You really do have to have a guardian angel at least since this is what we landed on. Judai went back upstairs to double check everything. We should really get out of here.” He stood. Johan offered out a hand, which Yusei took gratefully. Together, they made their way back up the stairs and, to his surprise, the sun was starting to rise.

How long had he been out?

Judai was at the back of the van, putting away most of their equipment. He looked up when they exited. Without hesitation, or warning, he ran for Yusei, catching him in a tight hug; Yusei flinched a bit but accepted it.

“Thank you,” Judai breathed. “We wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you.” After a few seconds, he released Yusei’s waist, backed away from him, and bowed. “I’m also so sorry. I should have listened to your warning. I know better than to ignore things like that.”

Yusei waved a hand. “No harm, no foul.”

“Well, a little harm,” Johan reminded him, elbowing his side. He flinched again. Johan walked over and wrapped an arm lovingly around Judai’s shoulders. “As such, breakfast is on us.”

“If you’d like,” Judai quickly added. Yusei did not miss how brightly red his expression had become and he smiled.

“Sure,” he agreed. “As long as the ghosts aren’t invited.”

“No promises,” they said together.

The three of them managed to hook their transportations together and rode back to town in the van. Yusei looked out the window. He was surprised when a weight hit his shoulder; Judai had slumped over, soundly asleep. Johan smiled apologetically.

Something swelled in his heart. He turned to look out the window once more and mused that he would not mind trying it again. Ghost hunting that is. Falling into decrepit basements he could definitely do without.

Judai shifted a bit on his shoulder and Yusei looked down at him softly.

Yeah, maybe just one more time.

*****

Thank you so much for reading!

The story on AO3

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Check out LightningClawedSky on Deviantart

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[thehuggamugcafe]

The Charlatan: Transfer Student III

OOC: So, I seem to be in the mood to put you through the mill this afternoon, dear reader. My apologies for that in advance.

I hope to be especially busy today, so I hope this will tide you folks over until I post other things. Anyway... I’ve talked enough, I think.

Let us start the game together, shall we? Please indulge yourself, my dear customer. Enjoy. ☕

Part 2 is here. https://thehuggamugcafe.tumblr.com/post/174898453922/the-charlatan-transfer-student-ii

No sooner had the barely-there smile touched his lips, it was gone, replaced by a frown as his brows pinched the slant of his gray eyes.

“Have you been told? A customer of mine and your parents know each other, and—”

Sojiro stopped in the midst of his spiel, breathing a sigh. Quietly, going by the irritated look in his eyes, the annoyed scowl that pinched his lightly aged face, he seemed to view it as too much of a hassle to explain himself to you.

You couldn’t help but silently wonder why he was so distant with others, but you knew better than to push your luck by voicing your curiosity. Sojiro Sakura was your caretaker for the next year, and if you so much as toed the invisible line, or worse crossed it, he would throw you out and you knew where you’d end up. A cell in juvie hall.

“Well, not that that matters. Follow me.”

You waited until his back was turned and he began walking until, finally, you decided that following his example was a good idea. Halfway up the stairs to a somewhat spacious attic, a question rolled off of your tongue and past your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Um, excuse me... There were a lot of police officers on my way here. Did something happen? Was there an accident, maybe?”

“Huh?”

Sojiro stopped on the staircase, eyeing you critically for a few moments before he breathed an all too familiar sigh, one of mild frustration.

“Police officers...? Accident...? It’s not my business, and it’s not yours either, kid.”

It was as though answering you wasn’t worth his time, and again, you couldn’t help but be reminded of how distant, how cold his attitude was. Your first impression of him wasn’t helped by the fact that he called you a kid, either.

When you ascended the final step, your (e/c) gaze quietly took in the sight of the attic as Sojiro proclaimed, “This is your room.”

A dusty wooden shelf was on your left, right next to the staircase landing, filled with bags of what you assumed to be old belongings. You made a mental note to try to avoid from tripping over it in the morning from now on. Bulky trash bags, a ladder, a potted plant, a small heater, a few empty plastic containers, cardboard boxes that were taped shut, a fan covered in cobwebs, and a shelf littered with musty old books cluttered the left-hand side of the room. An old work bench sat in one corner of the room, directly across from an old mattress with a (f/c) sleeping bag, clustered with old books and covered by a plastic sheet.

Next to the workstation, there was an old couch, and next to the couch were more old books on top of and underneath the rickety-looking table. You spotted more cardboard boxes that were taped shut, two laundry baskets, raggedy-looking cloths that hung from the lines that dangled from the attic beams, and a dim yellow white fluorescent glow shone from a few lit light bulbs. Lastly, your eyes landed on a box set in the middle of the attic room, your room for the next year, and you knew it was your belongings from home.

You glanced back at Sojiro as he addressed you with a stern-sounding “hey,” and a look to match.

“Are you listening?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He paused to raise a hand, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed. “I’ll at least give you sheets for your bed.”

The lukewarm stare he gave you caused a chill to dance up and down your spine. You felt very much like a child expecting to be scolded by his or her parent, and you felt like you were walking on egg shells. It was looking more and more like the next year would be... difficult with Sojiro Sakura, to say the least.

“Hm? You look like you want to say something.”

“...It’s big,” you muttered, casting one last glance around the attic.

“It’s on you to clean up the rest. I’ll leave after locking up each day. You’ll be alone at night, but don’t do anything stupid. I’ll throw you out if you cause any trouble.”

You opened your mouth to thank him, but his voice—and the no-nonsense stare he had—stopped you from speaking so much as a word.

“Now then... I got the gist of your situation: You protected some woman from a man forcing himself on her, he got injured, then sued you. Right? That’s what you get for sticking your nose in a matter between two adults. You did injure him, yeah?”

Sojiro paused, breathing a sigh through pursed lips as he stared at you, long and hard. “I guess appearances aren’t everything.”

You swallowed a gulp, a mound of saliva that felt like it was the size of a tennis ball. Instinctively, you felt a hand curling to a fist, a fist that shook, trembled with irritation as your eyes hardened.

“W-Wait a minute, that was all just a... I... I mean that I—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Sojiro abruptly cut you off with both a stare that cut through you like a hot knife through butter, and sharp words that rolled off of his tongue.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. I am in the restaurant business, you know. Anyway,” he paused, withdrawing a cigarette package from one of the pockets of his barista apron.

The flap was opened, and a faint hint of raisin made itself known to you as a tobacco-stuffed cigarette was removed. The middle-aged man put it between his lips as he took out a lighter, and with a flick of his thumb, a small reddish orange flame danced on the windscreen. The small flame touched the end of the cigarette, and soon, a huff of gray smoke was breathed into your face.

“And now that you’ve got a criminal record, you were expelled from your high school. The courts ordered you to transfer and move out here, which your parents also approved. In other words,” he paused, his lips curling as he smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile, “they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass.”

He breathed a second huff of smoke, watching your expression as the gray white smog filtered by you, around you, and wafted throughout the dusty attic.

“Behave yourself for the year. If nothing happens, your probation will be lifted.”

“...A whole year,” you muttered, more to yourself than to your caretaker.

“Your sentence lasts until next spring, right? That’s why you’re gonna be here for the coming year. Cause any problems, and you’ll be sent straight to juvie.”

The middle-aged barista crushed the smouldering butt of his cigarette into the edge of the shelf on the left of where you both stood.

“We’ll be going to Shujin tomorrow.”

“...Shujin?” you asked, blinking owlishly.

“Shujin Academy—the school you’ll be attending. We’ll introduce ourselves properly to the staff there. There’s rarely a place that will accept someone like you, you know.”

By someone like me, he means someone with a criminal record, even if it is a false charge!

You said nothing, deciding it was wise to bite the inside of your cheek for the time being.

“...Yes, sir,” you replied, your soft words earning a quiet, long winded sigh from Sojiro.

“What a waste of my Sunday... Your luggage arrived earlier; I left it over there.”

Your eyes fell on the cardboard box that was just behind him, nodding once.

“...I’ll leave it to you then, kid. Oh, and you heard what I said, didn’t you? Cause me any grief, and I’ll toss you out onto the streets like the troublemaker you are. Got it?”

“...Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good. Make sure to go to bed early. I won’t be the one looking after you if you get sick because you stayed up too late.”

“...Yes, sir. Good night.”

You watched as Sojiro turned on his heels, the soles of his white shoes clicking as he descended the attic stairs. Your eyes did a slow, thorough sweep of the attic, breathing a sigh as you set your schoolbag on a table on the right-hand side of the attic stairs.

“This is gonna take me a while...”

It took some time, but finally, you collapsed on what was to be your bed for the next year, your hands resting on your interlocked palms, fingers linked together. The lumpy mattress shifted, quietly groaning in protest as your weight was added to it. By the time you had finished cleaning the attic that probably hadn’t seen a feather duster in years, it was early evening. The distant caws of a crow reached you through the rickety window that blew a cool, crisp spring breeze into the room through a crack in the opening, whispering across your face as you breathed a sigh.

Your (e/c) gaze stared up into the ceiling, lazily eyeing the support beams as thoughts rushed through your mind.

Arrest... Trial... Criminal record...

The inebriated voice of that man hissed its way into your head, like a snake winding its way through grass. It was as prevalent as it always was when you thought back to that night. You could still remember the way he glared at you, eyes bloodshot and cheeks flushed with intoxication, pressing a hand to his head injury as he spat angrily at you.

“You little bitch... I’ll sue!”

Back then... On that evening... I wasn’t in the wrong. I know I did the right thing.

That was what you told yourself over and over again, but it was a sobering comfort, albeit a bittersweet one. You helped a woman who was in clear need of aid, and what had you gotten in return as thanks?

A slap to the face and angry words, courtesy of your mother.

The sneering lips and haughty stare of your older sister.

The wide, watery eyes and worried glances of your little brother.

The quiet, concerned stare of your father, softly whispering assurances that everything would be okay in the end.

Your friends abandoning you.

Your classmates and the faculty staff eyeing you critically, as though you weren’t the person they once knew anymore.

Your high school expulsion.

Your false criminal record.

Being labelled as a delinquent, a no-good problem child, and on top of everything else, you would be stuck in Tokyo for a whole year.

Still, I couldn’t just let that go.

You remembered you had to go home early on that day. Your father had called, saying your grandfather had been hospitalized for a sudden heart attack, and your cram school teacher had given you the green light to leave early.

“Just get in the car!”

You remembered stopping, flicking a glance down a separate street, pursing your lips as you paused, listening.

“Stop it!”

“How dare you cross me...!”

You moved instinctively, but not away from the sound of quarrelling voices, no.

You moved to where they were coming from.

“Stop it! Let me go!”

The closer you approached, the more clear their voices were. It was a man and a woman, the latter being grappled by the former as the man snarled intoxicated words at the woman, his words slurring noticeably.

“No!”

You remembered the way the woman struggling, doing her best to get away from the man, but for every inch she tried to get away from him, the closer he yanked her back to him with a large, masculine hand wrapped around her forearm.

“Don’t give me that shit...”

“Ow! P-Please, stop!”

She’s in danger. I have to save her!

You remembered how your heels clicked over the asphalt, your schoolbag bumping against your clothed back as you jogged closer. The driver-side door of a car was left open, a car which you assumed was the man’s vehicle, ready to shove the helpless woman inside at any moment.

“Tch... What a waste of time. You think you’re worth causing me trouble? Huh?”

“I-I’ll call the police!”

“Heh, call them if you want! The police are my bitches. They’re not gonna take you seriously.”

“No... Stop...”

The distant wailing of police sirens made you look up the street, and so did the drunken man. He clicked his tongue in clear annoyance.

“Someone called the cops, huh? Get in the car! Incompetent fools like you just need to shut your mouths and follow where I steer this country!”

Suddenly, the hairs raised on the back of your neck as the woman’s eyes fell on you, and the man followed to where she was staring, honing his gaze on you.

“What’re you looking at? Get outta my face!”

You didn’t move. You couldn’t move. You watched as the man took a few steps, his balance was questionable as his eyes leered at you through the orange-coloured lenses of the glasses that sat upon his nose.

“This ain’t a show! Get lost, missy!”

Turning back to glare at the woman over his shoulder, his voice spoke volumes of the irritation he felt.

“See? This is all because you’re so damn slow! Get in the car!”

In the here-and-now, you felt a hand curling to a tight, white-knuckled fist. Your jaw became set as your lips pursed, your brows pinched the slant of your eyes as you stared—no, glared—up at the ceiling.

You breathed a huff and a sour mutter of, “That scumbag,” feeling your eyes sliding shut. You were in the throes of dozing off—that is, until the be-be-beep of your phone pulled you free from the attempt of falling asleep.

You hummed as you withdrew your cellphone from the pocket of your cotton pyjama pants, blinking as your eyes fell on a familiar red and black icon that took the shape of an eye.

It’s that weird app again. Your eyes focused on it, sensing a dizzying spell of feeling lightheaded gripping a hold of you, washing over you. It was slow, gentle, but potent simultaneously, lulling you into a sense of security, of warmth.

“That’s... weird. I deleted it this afternoon. It’s so creepy,” you mumbled, blinking your heavy eyes.

You tried, you honestly and truly tried to resist, but your eyes slid shut, and you fell into the welcoming abyss of unconsciousness.

The clanking of shackles yanked you to full alertness, breathing a shallow gasp as your eyes shot open. Groggy, your eyes watched as a chain lazily swung back and forth, the chilling sound of metal hitting a padded wall resulted in a powerful chill to worm up and down your spine, a shudder that shook your shoulders. The soft but steady noise of water dripping into a toilet was heard directly across from you, echoing all around wherever it was that you resided now.

Wherever this place was, you knew one thing for certain.

This isn’t Leblanc’s attic.

The feeling of cold metal surrounding your wrists, the telltale sound of chains clinking together made you look down, and a similar sensation of icy steel circling your calves earned a second, more thorough glance at yourself. Your quiet suspicions were confirmed; your hands and ankles sported thick metal shackles. Moreover, you wore a white and black striped prisoner’s uniform, clothing that was strangely complimented by the simple pair of raggedy sneakers you wore.

The lumpy mattress you sat on shifted as you tossed your feet on the floor, the worn footwear scuffing over the floor as the soles made contact. You drew in a breath as he sat, back curved as you pressed a hand to your head, trying to assess the situation.

Where am I? How did I get here? Is this a dream?

A soft snicker caught your attention, and you blinked, your head pointing an askance on the cell door. A smirk curled the lips of the noiret, standing at around 5’11’’, the warm onyx iris of his right eye observing you. He wore a standard warden’s uniform. A crisp blue shirt and a black tie, black dress pants covered his legs, and black dress shoes shone with a mirror polish. Finally, a warden’s cap sat atop his head, bearing a golden V, and the black eyepatch that covered his right eye also bore a golden V as he breathed a second chuckle. It was a noise that was surprisingly pleasant to hear, but...

You watched as he shifted, making way for a carbon copy of himself. This young man appeared to be just like him. The same frizzy black hair, the same onyx iris that coolly eyed you, the same clothing, the same eyepatch covered his left eye, but unlike his look-a-like, he seemed to be more stand-offish, more level-headed.  The two noiret, obsidian-eyed wardens shifted, turning sideways as your gaze fell on a rather... odd-looking man.

The first thing you took notice of was his abnormally long nose, and how his wide, bloodshot eyes ogled you in silence. He was dressed in a way that reminded you of a butler, or perhaps a servant of a higher being. A crisp black tailcoat, a white shirt, a black tie, black leggings, and black dress shoes. A grin eternally pulled at his lips as he raised a hand covered by a white glove, appearing to greet you.

For a moment, and only a moment, silence prevailed where you lingered, but finally, the man spoke.

“Trickster... Welcome to my Velvet Room.”

[primalspice]

9, 12, 16, 28, 34, 41

ou

How are conflicts resolved? Peaceful negotiation, war, or something else entirely?

depends on the conflict and the day LOL war hasnt really happened on a widescale level but there’s been a good amount of Civil Unrest. the military is pretty n the high side of disproportionate to amount of citizens tho so thats.......not great LOL. There’s a lot of unethical things going on within the military that make their conflict resolution Generally Bad whether with civilians or other military/government members. The government/political level is bureaucratic and usually not worth the trouble LOL even the (usually) elected president typically doesn’t really even have a ton of power in conjunction with the rest of the randomass high-gov workers. Troubles of legality are usually settled through political office there but its pretty limited and concrete. The region is self-governing and only reports to like. the American Presidential Office for especially important shit.....although they seem to be caring less nowadays about how anyone is doing.

How would it be described on a travel brochure? What aspects would be highlighted?

It wouldnt be advertised to the public v much LOL i imagine the uniqueness and history of Technological Advancement would be accentuated on maybe. yessss we pioneered make big energy and also like cars at some point in time, disregard the fact that the region was totally demolished in the process of doing this.

What is the typical wardrobe like? Colourful or dull? Fancy or functional? Warm or light?

pretty typical 70s american style, maybe Slightly behind on trends since they’re so isolated. Nothing particularly advanced or expensive as stores are pretty limited, but there’s enough variety. Most people tend to dress functionally or plain considering the atmosphere and the types of jobs thatre prevalent but that’s more just preference. Basic military uniforms are pretty common for members to wear around even if not performing any particular duties (annoying)

How are travelers or immigrants treated? Or do people tend to stay where they were born?

Immigrants and Emigrants are both quite rare and held to high standards (lots of paperwork, monitoring, dealing with the Bureaucracy, etc.). Both are regarded with skepticism but especially emigrants. It wouldn’t be particularly hard for someone leaving to integrate into regular society but the greater fear is Government Secrets being leaked nd such. and spreading whatever weird poison radioactive illness youve contracted. It’s rare for an emigrant to be successful in the process and they’re usually treated with suspicion and doubt; a lot of regular citizens are pretty complacent with the living situation since they don’t hear much about what else is available to them and don’t understand the need to leave considering shit’s reforming anyway; they assume anyone with success in leaving must have found a loophole in the system bcz they make it impossible LOL Those immigrating go through an extensive interview process to define their intentions and typically come in on outside government scholarships/research nowadays. If accepted, the region is contracted to secure their housing and they’re heavily monitored for the first year of their stay (and gradually less after that). Citizens usually regard immigrants highly because they’re usually introduced to perform and train others for jobs that are specialized/sparse.

How do people keep in contact? Do they write each other? How are messages transported? Are there communication devices?

Telephones are common but service is limited to within the region except in special cases (certain government/military phones and immigrants). Letters are common but again the mail service is regional. No one really physically enters/exits for that kind of stuff but being the 2nd-4thish generations living here, it’s mostly uncontested since not many people know someone on the outside. 

How long do people tend to live? What is this age affected by? Sickness, unsafe working conditions, dangerous environment? Or is that simply the natural old age?

The average age is...........Decreasing haha :|  Sickness, unsafe working conditions, dangerous environment, All Of The Above. The radiation is getting exponentially worse so a lot of people are dying from cancers and radiation poisoning and the like. A lot of people also dying from lack of medical care for unrelated issues due to supply and doctor scarcity. A lot of people dying from unregulated factories and labor. Crime is also increasing a bit. Yknow.

[supere1113]

The Artist In Me - Track 6: Gifted Alien

Here in the album lies a palpable tone change. We're 5 tracks in, and I wanted the first five tracks of TAIM to be sort of a mirror to the 5 tracks that make up Identity, as they are transcendent projects: TAIM explores the ideas that Identity lays the foundation for. This was a happy coincidence, but those five tracks almost mirror Identity in length, too! Just 2 or 3 minutes difference, Identity being longer. They ALSO mirror each other in the sense that they are kind of an exposition of me, my beliefs, my core and my values. 1) Inspiration is your friend. Love it. 2) "I can hang out with my friends, the next day, I'll be fine with reading books at my house!" Ha ha ha! 3) I'm multi-talented, and I do what I want. "And you can, too!" 4) I have big dreams, and I want to achieve them all. And 5) Imma stay original, Imma stay authentic, I tell my story, and you can come along for the ride! (I kinda set you up for what comes next in that last one ha ha ha!)

I also put a tone change here to signal a switch in the narrative at this point in the album. I go from telling you about myself and things about me, to telling you stories about my life as a preteen after I got all those values and what I experienced that defined that era of my life... while also telling you one more thing about me. I'm on the Autism spectrum.

In this, the very heart of the album, I tell you about my developmental make-up. I tell you that I am autistic. High-functioning autism is what they call mine now. If you personally know me, or have seen any of my content online, this may surprise you because you're probably thinking, "Evan never seemed autistic to me." I'll get to that in a second. Anyways, I got diagnosed when I was in 4th grade, but my mom didn't tell me until I was 11 (it was called Asperger's Syndrome at the time, but the people who diagnose it have put all of the different types of autism under the umbrella of Autism Spectrum Disorder, or autism for short since then, so I'll call it that since it's not 2009 anymore. Technicalities). Michael Jackson had died that same year she told me and that really affected me deeply. It had never happened to someone I cared that much about. Amidst that loss, I was... "gifted" with this new information as well.

My perception of autism has changed over the years, and I see it differently than I did then. But at the time, I was really confused about what that means to and for me. I didn't know how to make sense of it, how to perceive it. I was led to believe that I was like everyone else mentally, and then my mom tells me that I'm not, but in fact, markedly atypical from other kids, other people. I could write a book on autism and how to notice it in minorities, but the most prevalent "symptoms" (I hate that word) you can find in me are that I struggle to make and especially maintain eye contact. It's scary and really just... overstimulating to observe all the features of the human face. Even the moon is terrifying to look at sometimes because it looks like a giant abstraction of a human face floating in the sky! Doesn't that sound scary?! I also was born without a "social chip" in my brain if you will. "How is he able to be so nice and mannerable and perceptive without a social chip?" You can't really tell on the surface because I learned how to socialize early on, but I had to learn it like I learned math and science and reading. I'm an incredibly fast learner, so I've gotten really good at it, but socializing will never be second nature to me. Always a weird art that every other human likes to do, and I learned how to do it because I want to connect with said humans. For nearly 40% of my life, I was overtly enthralled by the Titanic. Everything about her (you can tell my enthusiasm as I address the ship as a she. This ship is my everything). The circumstances behind her sinking, the arithmetic of the dead and the survivors, the morals of the passengers, how the disaster affected human history, random facts, and most of all, her technical specifications and visual appearance. And the (in)accuracy of the many movies made about her. She's the reason I'm a designer. How's that for defining a kid's life?! For most of my childhood, I spoke mostly about Titanic and it annoyed a lot of people to hear me talk back then. The thing is, I didn't pick up on the fact that they felt that way. That's Autism. Right there. Many people "on the autism spectrum" as were categorized, are also very smart and typically skilled and blessed with some sort of talent, or multiple talents in my case. I know I'm not the only one like that, either. Michelangelo and Sir Isaac Newton were autistic as well.

So after mom told me about that, I had connected all the dots between my behaviors. So the big question became, "What am I?!"

In postmodern society, kids and honestly everybody are led to perceive diagnosable developmental differences or so-called "disabilities" as just that - disabilities. So I slowly began to believe that something was wrong with me. It became weird to have great gifts, to have a vast collection of knowledge in your head about this one thing that you're interested in. To have trouble socializing and blending in, all because God made your mind to function differently than everyone else. I wasn't mad at God, I just confused about the whole situation... and that's what this song is about. Whew!

The musical ideas explored in Gifted Alien stem mostly from hip hop of the early to mid 1990s. Boom-bap and G-funk stuff mostly. A lot of 2Pac and Biggie influences, also some gospel sauce in that mix, too. Donnie McKlurkin, Kirk Franklin/God's Property, all that. Cool stuff.

I think that Gifted Alien is the most important song on this album because of its message and the fact that it sheds light on something that isn't really discussed to the point of people having a significant understanding of it. Autism. Also minority autism. Black autism. You don't see very many musical artists talking about this stuff in pop songs or songs made for the mainstream. So if you want to share only one song from this here album, let it be this one if you like it. I want so desperately for other autistic people, regardless of age or ethnicity, diagnosed or undiagnosed, that they are not alone. I hear them, and I'm speaking for our shared community.

Hi. I'm Evan, and I am a gifted alien. And I love you personally. ❤

You can listen to Gifted Alien here if you want. This link will take you to wherever you listen to music. YouTube included. ❤

[oflgtfol]

been thinking about death/the afterlife a lot lately...

i think the way rick riordan explained the afterlife in pjo was really interesting and optimistic, how all kinds of afterlifes exist and all religions are true in their own way, and when you die you go to your own version of the afterlife. but in a way its also freaky because he also accounted for the people who don’t have any belief or think that you cease to exist after death

and it’s just.... it’s scary to think about idk. because when i really think about it, i just. can’t really imagine there being an afterlife. we can all hope for one but based on the facts we as human beings have at this point in time, it just feels like a hope and not a reality.

even the more supernatural things in general, i just can’t... truly take them as fact? hell i’ve even had a very supernatural experience in second grade, and my brother was there with me and we saw the exact same thing so i can’t even say it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but even looking back on that it’s just... i cant say it was a ghost? it’s fun to think about ghosts and all that and it’s fun to think about What If They’re Real? or even to act like they ARE real but when i really rationalize it i just... don’t see it. and i think all the experiences that have probably the most basis for something supernatural at work are just... unexplained. outside of our knowledge for some reason or the other. maybe both me and my brother had our eyes playing tricks on us, i mean it’s not very hard to find the shape of a person in the darkness. 

and so the only ~definitive~ proof we have of what happens after death would be the people who have died but came back. and they tell of stories of a white light at the end of the tunnel, of god, of christianity, but like. even then i dont believe it. all these stories are all from people obviously raised christian. i wonder what people of other religions see when they die and come back? do they see their version of the afterlife or do they still see what christians do? like i just feel like maybe these are just hallucinations or something, dreams, your mind trying to make sense of something like death. and at that point you have to think, is this someone’s internal bias taking over? if you’re raised with the idea that the christian afterlife is what happens after death, as christians are, then you’ll of course see it. and if you’re a part of another religion/not religious at all and still see this - well, that makes sense, since christianity is so prevalent in society and shoved in everyone’s faces to where even if you believe something else it may have still gotten under your skin subconsciously 

i don’t really know WHAT i believe. because as i said, logically i just don’t see anything happening. life came about by chance on this hunk of rock we called earth. i dont see how life has any inherent meaning either, so death doesn’t have any meaning as well. life and death are just things that happen. the world existed before life ever did here and the world will continue after we’re gone. life and sentience are just a complex phenomenon in nature

but.. i dont really WANT to believe that. it’s scary to think that this life is all we have. if life has no inherent meaning, then it’s up to us to make meaning of it, and it’s so scary to think that yes i really have been wasting my whole life doing absolutely nothing meaningful. and to think that i could die at any point, soon or later, unexpected and still without having made something of my meager time, and i couldnt even continue in ANY capacity afterwards because i’d just... cease to exist. i couldnt even look on as a ghost and lament how i Died Too Young, Too Soon. i wouldn’t feel anything. i wouldn’t even be apathetic because i wouldn’t Be. and that’s so scary to think about, to go from Being to Not Being and have it mean absolutely nothing to the rest of the world, the rest of the universe. it’s scary to think about but i can’t help but feel like this is the most likely option

but on the other hand, thinking about if there is an afterlife is equally as scary. i was raised catholic, as i’ve talked about before, and i hate how much it really impacted me even down to subconsciously, to this day. because when i think about if there is an afterlife, i can only ever picture the kind i was raised with. and by god that afterlife is scary.

heaven is cool and all yeah whatever but like, i was raised catholic. and i’ve been a Bad Christian for years now. my best case scenario is going to purgatory and suffering my sins out for however long till i can go to heaven. but i mean with my track record, and the way that the church was like “you’ll go to hell for being a nonbeliever!!!!” i can’t help but feel like... yes i am going to hell. and it fucking terrifies me still. i’ve rejected the church and yet i’m still terrified of the wrath of god because of the Catholic Guilt i was raised with and i hate it. i hate it. because when i think about if there’s an afterlife and i think about how god will smite me down, and how scared it makes me, it makes me want to grasp at straws and cling to any chance i have at going to heaven.

and GOD. thats so ANNOYING. i should not want to be a Good Christian simply because i fear god! and that’s what annoys me so much about catholicism. i disagree with so much of the doctrine and honestly? i don’t fucking want to worship that kind of god if the stuff they told me is true. what kind of god rules his subjects with an iron fist like this. like “you’re going to hell if you dont worship me and dedicate your entire fucking lives to it.” like “i will offer no evidence that i even exist and expect you to continue to believe in me even when there is no factual basis and especially when horrible events occur to you and i do nothing to intervene despite me being a Benevolent Being who Loves You, and then when you have no faith in me, i will cast you into hell, because Good Christians Have Faith.” like “you’re automatically going to hell if you kill yourself even if you have a mental illness and shouldn’t be faulted for your actions because life was already suffering enough for you to be unable to take it anymore but now you’ll suffer for all of eternity just because you didnt value the life that god gave you, simply because its a gift from GOD.” like “you’re still going to hell even if you kill yourself to save other people, yes including literally the entire human species. you threw away god’s gift and so you must suffer for all of eternity.”

one of the first lessons i had as a child and we were learning about hell was with the teacher telling us about how the suffering was for all of eternity. do you know how long eternity is? its unfathomably long. it has no end. i was a child and being taught that If I Mess Up Badly Enough, i will suffer for literally longer than my feeble human mind can even understand, because it has no length, since it literally has no end!!!! do you know how terrifying this is for a kid. especially a kid like me who was anxious over literally everything like 2012 and alien invasions and zombie apocalypses. i was in 5th grade and i learned about the rapture and it scared me so badly that it made me suddenly really invested in Becoming A Good Christian So That My Eternal Soul Is Not Suffering For All Of Eternity

it makes me so angry to think about the church i was raised in and i cant tell if this is just how catholicism/christianity as a whole is or if my church was especially bad or what. but either way i just cannot voluntarily dedicate myself to this religion anymore ever since i started realizing everything wrong with it

and the fact im still terrified of eternal damnation just goes to show how deep this shit goes. and it makes me MORE angry . and it makes me want to separate myself from this as much as possible. but thinking of actually having to fact eternal damnation makes me doubt if i could hold true to this if i actually face judgment, and it makes me EVEN ANGRIER to think that god would be so cruel that he’d force people to be bootlickers just to avoid something like burning in the fires of hell for ALL OF ETERNITY simply for not believing in him.

so yes, the idea of an afterlife is just as scary as the idea of their not being an afterlife. and i guess in the end i’d prefer to just cease to exist. but sometimes i’m still worried that oh no! what if there is an afterlife! and it’s not even like you can choose, like oh no this is the only afterlife and now we’re all going to hell for being nonbelievers. and sometimes this worry makes me contemplate what it’d be like to return to the faith but then it’s like. i shouldnt do this simply because i’m afraid of god. it’d be disingenuous and i’d still go to hell anyway since it’s not like i can even love god with this kind of view towards christianity, so he’d see right through my fake ass practices and it’d all be futile in the end, having wasted my whole life slaving away for this god damn religion like i’ve always wanted to avoid. and even despite that, it’s like, i shouldn’t have to do this in the first place. what kind of god is so full of himself that he’d punish someone for ALL OF ETERNITY because they’re not kissing his feet 24/7 and Dare to doubt him

i wish i was raised without any religion at all. like, because i was raised with this, i don’t think i could even convert to another religion. i admire a lot of religions for the story aspect, but i simply don’t have the drive to carry out the everyday routines and discipline behind them (even if i can admire those too), and what’s the use to them really if i don’t believe in the more uh, supernatural aspect of them, for lack of a better word.

my ideal afterlife would probably be reincarnation maybe. or maybe like the greek afterlife. hades seems really fair in how there’s various tiers for people and their goodness levels.. outside of set religions though i think my ACTUAL ideal would be to just... spectate the living world. like, i’m dead, but i’m able to just. observe what’s happening. i’d love to do that. i don’t want to die but i don’t want to live forever, but my GOD i really want to see where humanity goes in the future and it pains me to think about everything i’m going to miss. if i could just observe it as some sort of outside spectator...

anyway, back in terms of like organized religions, i just can’t make myself truly believe in them. i can hope but that’s really all i can do. because of how i was raised it’s just, christian afterlife or nothing at all, and both seem so bad that death in itself is scary to think about. if only i was raised without a religion, then i think i could maybe do something. if i could choose a religion and rationalize it on my own and come to believe in it then okay. but i’d probably stay non religious then, but at the very least i’d at least be rid of this stupid catholic guilt and fear of god so i could at least ponder the possibility of different afterlifes without being afraid of going to hell beyond the abstract concept of it

[thedarkcloakedlioness-blog]

The Lakshmanrekha

*Religion often subtly changes our worldviews about gender relations. Read how Dadi’s bed time story widens the horizon for little Anu.**

///WARNING: Heavy Sarcasm, might be offensive if you're too touchy about religion.This piece contains heavy references to Hindu mythology. If you're a Hindu, I did not mean to be blasphemous to offend you. So no death threats please, chill. it is an objective take on the gender discourse prevalent in stories of religion, from a sociological viewpoint.///

Why does Mama insist on brushing teeth every night? Mia said that she doesn’t have to do so.

Little Anu found this mundane task terribly annoying. Especially when she couldn’t wait to go to bed today, as her Dadi ( Grandma) had come from the village to stay with them. Dadi usually stayed in Anu’s room whenever she came to visit and she knew a lot of stories which Mama didn’t. Anu believed that maybe Mama’s class teacher had not told her good stories like Dadi’s had. Anu quickly brushed her teeth and rushed back into the room to find Dadi changing the sheets.

‘ Anu, Did you brush your teeth’?, Mama was at the door.

‘Yes Ma’, Anu replied in a resigned voice.

‘ Good girl. Don’t trouble Dadi too much and go to sleep fast, okay?', Mama said, as she closed the door softly.

Anu climbed into the bed and watched as Dadi swallowed a bunch of multi coloured pills in all sizes and shapes. She decided that when she would be old, she would eat only green pills which was her favourite colour.

‘ Dadi, Dadi, tell me a story’ , Anu chirped excitedly.

‘ Haan, haan*, my dear. Shall I tell you the story of the ever kind Lord Sriram’? (* Hindi word for Yes, showing agreement.)

‘But I wanted to hear stories of animals’, Anu could not help but pout.

‘ Haan dear, this one has plenty of animals in it too’ Dadi reassured her.

‘ Okay then, Dadi’ Anu hoped this story was as good as the story her teacher had taught in class today. It was about a fighting priness called Jhansi Rani whom Anu had grown to admire very much.

‘Ah, so where was I the last time? ‘ Dadi ‘s brows wrinkled, matching her face as she tried to remember.

‘ Lord Sriram, Sita and his brother Laksham were living in the forest now!’ Anu remembered exactly where Dadi had stopped the last time, when she had come to stay with them for Diwali holidays.

‘Lakshmana dear, not Laksham. ‘ Dadi smiled kindly. Anu could never imagine her sweet Dadi ever being angry as her Mama would sometimes.

‘ One day, Sitadevi saw a beautiful deer as she was sitting outside their hut in the forest. It had the most innocent eyes and the grace of an apasaras as it pranced about.'

‘ What's an apsaras, Dadi?’

‘Apsaras are beautiful women who dance and sing in heaven. They are well known for their beauty which has been said to have tempted even the most strong willed men.'

‘ Tempt men?’ Anu was confused as she looked at Dad’s troubled face. What she would be tempted by was when Mama brought a family pack of icecream and not let her have it whenever she wanted. How can women tempt anyone like icecreams? They were not something to eat.

‘How can beautiful women tempt anyone, Dadi?’ Anu was determined to know. Dadi looked a little troubled and unhappy with all the interruptions Anu made.

‘Anu, dont interrupt me like that child! Your cousin, Tina does not do that when I tell her stories. So where was I?’ Dadi’s tone was a little harsher than Anu was used to. Could Dadi get angry if she asked many questions. She could not imagine how someone sweet like her Dadi could get angry and yell at her.

‘But when Sitadevi got too close to the gentle creature, the deer pranced away into the thick forest. So Sitadevi asked her husband Lord Sriram to catch that deer for her.’

‘ But Dadi, why couldn't she go and catch the deer herself?’, Anu piped up.

‘ Because it was a large and thick forest with roaring lions, tigers, jackals, elephants and slithering snakes. It was very dangerous for her to go alone.’

‘ But why was she afraid, Dadi? You said she was the avatar of Goddess Lakshmi. And God made all plants, animals and us. Dadi, you said that Sitadevi was a brave, smart and beautiful princess.’, Anu said as her little brow clouded in her confusion.

‘ Haan dear. But at present, she was human.’ , Dadi continued. 'So she asked Lord Sriram to get her the deer.’

‘ But Lord Sriram was also human. Why wasn’t he afraid?’ Anu asked.

‘ Because he was the avatar of Lord Vishnu, dear. He was the brave prince of Ayodhya. Hai ram*, Hai ram’, Dadi chanted, as she closed her eyes in devotion, touching her prayer beads.( *Hai ram – Hey Lord Ram).

'But Dadi', Anu protested, 'You said before that Sitadevi was a brave lady as well.'

Dadi sighed, closing her eyes. ‘ Listen dear, Men are brave and courageous. They go out into the world and get things done. The duty of an ideal woman is to be faithful to her husband and help him discharge all his worldly duties, as she is dependent on him. Women cannot go out like men do. Its too dangerous. ‘ Dadi tried to impart some wisdom to her grandchild that she had inherited from her own Dadi.

‘ But Dadi, My Mama gets everything done here. She buys all household stuff, water all the plants, takes care of me and our cat,Loopi. She goes to the clinic like Papa goes to the office. She can also drive like Papa.’ Anu did not understand what Dadi was talking about.

‘ Haan, haan dear. Now the times have changed. Women who are brave enough can do some things that men do too. But don't forget that our religion and scriptures put the duties of women as what I have told you- To her husband. All these things women do now are fine, but not as important as being an ideal woman and wife like Sitadevi.'

Anu looked unconvinced. ‘ You will understand when you grow up, my dear.’ Dadi resorted to her ultimate weapon to avoid anymore questions.

‘ So Lord Sriram decided to go and catch that deer. She left Sitadevi in his younger brother Lakshman's protection. But hours passed by and there was no sign of Lord Sriram or the deer. Sitadevi got worried. She asked Lakshmana to go look for her Lord. But Lakshmana did not wanted to leave her alone in the jungle. What if somebody came while he was away and kidnapped Sitadevi.'

‘ They could go together Dadi. Why should she be left alone at their home. Like my Mama takes me with her to clinic if our Auntie doesnt come for work one day.’ , Little Anu was sure that Lakshmana would have done exactly what her Mama did.

‘ No dear. I told you it was a dangerous forest. So Lakshmana, drew a circle around Sitadevi and asked her to stay inside that circle. It was called the Lakshmanrekha. As long as Sitadevi stayed inside the circle, she would be protected from any kidnappers.’ Dadi explained.

‘But what if Sitadevi wanted to go to the bathroom?’, Anu was troubled with this arrangement. Even her strict class teacher who let them go to the bathroom whenever they wanted seemed kinder than Lakshmana.

‘Anu! Don’t ask silly questions my child. ‘ Dadi said sharply.

'So anyway, as Sitadevi sat alone inside the circle, an old man came begging for some food. Now Sitadevi, the most ideal woman could not help but feel compassion to the poor man. But if she had to go in to get the food, she would have to breach the Lakshmanrekha. But she was too kind to let the man starve. So as she stepped out of the circle, there was a loud cackle of laughter.', Dadi paused dramatically.

'Who was it? Who was it?', Anu could not contain her excitement.

'The old man transformed into the hideous Demon King Ravana who captured her and flew away in his flying chariot.', Dadi said.

‘Why didn't Sitadevi fight Raavan like Jhansi Rani fought the men who came to take her kingdom? She was also a princess.'

Anu was outraged, as she sprang up from the bed.

'Sitadevi was not strong enough to fight a hideous and powerful demon like Ravana. She was just a woman. What could she do all alone, with no one to protect her?’ , Dadi asked.

‘ But Jhansi rani fought men alone and..'

Anu! What did I tell you about interrupting me often. ‘, Dadi’s brow clouded in anger. So even Dadi can get angry, Anu thought silently.

‘Where was I? Ah, yes. So you see, all the terrible things that would later happen in the story was because Sitadevi did not heed Lakshmana’s warning and stayed within the Lakshmanrekha.’ Dadi spoke softly, as she turned to face Anu’s troubled expression.

‘ So now do you understand my child, why women should always obey men. You don’t want to be in trouble like Sitadevi did, do you?'

Anu frantically shook her head. Kidnappers were frightening, but demon king kidnappers were much worse.

‘So what did we learn today, then?’ Anu did not want the story to end there. She was not sleepy as yet and was a little worried that demon kings might come to kidnap her while she was asleep.

‘That men know better and women should be like Sitadevi, the ideal woman except when she disobeyed. If women disobey, bad things could happen to them’ , Anu replied in a soft voice as she laid back down.

'Goodnight my child', Dadi turned off the bedside light. Little Anu tried to sleep, a little bit shaken but intrigued by the new knowledge she had acquired. She asked Dadi if she could ever be as good as Sitadevi.

‘Yes, my dear. You would grow up to be a beautiful and well behaved woman like her’, Dadi reassured her.

Little Anu went to sleep a little wiser than she was before.

Author Notes: The piece was a satirical take on sexist ideologies fed to us when we are children in the form of stories. It tries to explore the messed up world from the innocent view of a child. No blasphemy intended. Primarily written as a subtle and satirical feminist discourse. How victims of sexism creates more victims. Also, don't question the logic of the mythological story. It's not my creation and yes, people make all those interpretations that Dadi did.

[le-ciel-estbleu]

so i’m

a little confused.  

now, at this juncture, i can only imagine that i am going to remain confused for as long as i live. or until i have some unfounded revelation that comes to me in the middle of the night explaining everything i’ve never understood. At which time... i will lay down all my burdens. hahaha. 

This is what i’m confused about.... a little bit ago when matt and i were starting to watch the blind side. love that movie, one of our go-to’s. Now, while i understand the background of the reason and the nature of it, i still can’t understand why. I suppose it’s because i grew up in a.) a different paradigm and b.) the south is very different from the north. 

i voiced my opinion on the matter of him constantly saying nigger. While i say constant, its just often. And even though it may be done in a light-hearted manner, for all the reasons i can list, it just... offends me. upsets me, irritates me, whatever. Whatever you want to call it. now i don’t think i was... rude, or mean in the way i went about the conversation but it ended up us just disagreeing on the matter. I guess i simply can’t see his side, because i never grew up the way he did. 

Now, after this being said, he related another situation regarding something i said or did, to him often saying nigger. 

Earlier today, we were outside my job while i was having my dinner break and group of teenager boys came out and i said something along the lines of, ‘well i just lost my peace and tranquility on my break’, and apparently i was disgusted by them he says, and he didn’t think that was fair that i said that, because they weren’t doing anything wrong. 

to be fair, i was not ‘disgusted’ as he suggested, merely irritated.  i was trying to have some peace, when all i have is customers surrounding me all day everyday, so yes i was irritated.  

Now, to my confusion. How in the hell can you relate my irritation over you calling blacks niggers often, to me saying that about a group of moderately loud teenage boys bursting the tranquility and peace of my break?

I can understand why he would say that from the standpoint of saying that blacks are irritating and annoying. And that’s just simply unfair. What, your green so you bother me?  

eh, i don’t know. just ranting. i guess these are things i can talk about with the therapist. not that they may give me any advice anyway. just disagreements. two people disagreeing on something. 

i’m not trying to change him. After 5 years, you really think i’d even bother to try? it’s just something that offends i guess. i never thought something like that would irk me to where my significant other and i are having a fight about it. Truly, we grew up different. Blacks hated whites just as much, if not more so.  

Him and i spent a summer down there a few years ago, and i definitely saw the difference in culture. it’s a different world. segregation legally doesn’t exist, but it does in the eyes of most. in peoples hearts they truly feel separate, different. 

i was involved in a theatre production while i was down South. my audition, as well as the rehearsals following were in a rather dangerous area of downtown Charleston, and in that respect, not many whites were frequent. I definitely felt.. almost alien when i was there. When i was among my friends during rehearsal i could feel our differences. it was very prevalent. I never understood it. it was a feeling that was practically hanging about in the air. it has to be about the saddest quality of humankind i’ve ever witnessed. 

I grew up in safe, moderately low crime ridden New England in Massachusetts. Nothing i ever lived through up north could have ever prepared me for the way i felt down south. the way i guess we all made each other feel. Regardless, they were my friends none the less. i didn’t see anything different with us, especially when we were all there for the same reason. We’re all here for the same reason, we all inhabit the same planet. at the very fucking least, we could all just get along. Or try. Most of us try our hardest not to get along, and that’s what seems to start wars. the goal, to be the most pigheaded and stubborn. the one who will come out on top and win. 

All of this crap aside.. i just wonder.. out of this whole rant, this whole conversation with matt and i.. why can’t we all just get the fuck along? My hatred in others never started till i really got into the trenches of customer service and i saw for myself, what the real day to day warfare is like. It’s hell. It’s disgusting, and saddening, and confusing and navigating through it all is feeling like your walking through thick mud. Just trying to pick your foot up and escape the grasp of the prior steps muddy footprint. Life doesn’t have to be so hard. Life could be a hell of a lot easier if people looked at each other and saw not an enemy or a stranger, but a fellow friend passing by. Someone whose struggles most likely match their own. Someone who is just like them in every way.  

Life hurts, and all the baggage that comes with it. But it doesn’t have to. It just.. doesn’t.