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celticcrossanon · 3 years

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I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️

Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤

🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️

I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?

Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾

Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.

Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer

Hi april14vc,

You are welcome to rant here.

It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.

I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.

I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.

What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.

The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.

What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.

Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.

My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.

Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.

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gavillain · 4 years

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Top ten princesses!

*rubs hands together* Alright, let’s rank us some Disney princesses. Technically there’s only four others who aren’t gonna make the cut buuuut they’re the four I don’t really like XD

10: Pocahontas (Pocahontas)

With Pocahontas, you can very clearly see the behind the scenes "self-consciousness" of the filmmakers baked into her character writing. Pocahontas was Disney's big attempt at Oscar gold, trying to tell a Big Important portentous story while also grappling with trying to make Pocahontas as inoffensive as possible. The result is a character who is kind and likable enough, but also kind of wooden. The historical accuracy value is practically nil, and Pocahontas as a character and a movie comes off worse and worse with the passage of time. All that being said, I think Disney did the very best job they could with Pocahontas given the situation she emerged in. They created a character who is likable, free-spirited, a strong believer in justice and unity, and a character who leads with empathy and courage at the forefront. If nothing else, Pocahontas is a strong role model for little girls to look up to, and her love story with John Smith is one of Disney's most mature love stories as well, so there's plenty for older fans to enjoy as well.

9: Mulan (Mulan)

Mulan is counted as a Disney princess because they don't have any other Asian princesses and they wanted a more diverse lineup. That's the reason. Y'all can stop pretending not to know now. But with that strange categorizing, Mulan is weird fixture of the princess lineup any way you look at her. Mulan, for me, both as a princess and a movie, has always been just kind of there. A lot of people passionately love it, and I get that completely. A lot of people tear it apart, and I get that too. Mulan is a great girl power character, and her resourcefulness and cleverness being her defining trait is excellent. Her internal turmoil over her identity is perhaps more poignant here than with any other princess, and Reflection still stands as one of the greatest Disney songs ever written. That said, Mulan's defining character flaw being clumsiness and awkwardness and this being why she has such internal turmoil about fitting in just makes her come off as a bit hollow to me, and I feel like there was a better route to take her. After how surprisingly good an LGBT take on her worked over in Once Upon a Time and how much better that informed her feeling like an outsider, it just made the animated version come off as weaker on the internal side to me. Good character overall, though, and I do really like Mulan.

8: Moana (Moana)

Moana has a similar situation to Mulan where she's not really a princess but she gets shoehorned into the princess mold because they have nowhere else to put her. She and Mulan are Disney heroes, and they have different expectations for that reason. All that being said, Moana is easily the best of the Revival era CGI princesses. For one thing, while she has a bit of the Revival trend of modernizing the princesses too much, they don't make her overly adorkable to make her relatable (... “overly” being the key word; she’s not exempt). On the contrary, Moana is written very much like a person. We see Moana grapple with the weight of duty both to her people and to the world as a whole. Her story is one of trying figure out whether it is better to chase the unknown or to follow the tried and true. And I like that. I also really appreciate how Moana wins the final battle with empathy for the monster, and that's what makes her unique. The whole "Know Who You Are" musical number is legitimately one of the most powerful moments ever put into a Disney film too. My biggest issue with her actually comes from Maui whose constant meta quips and spotlight stealing tends to undermine Moana's character a lot and takes away from some of her moments that I wish hit harder than they do.

7: Jasmine (Aladdin)

Jasmine is the only princess in the lineup who is not the main character of her movie. On the contrary, she's the love interest of the main character and more of a supporting player in her film. She doesn't even get a solo, something every other princess, save Merida who isn't in a musical, gets. As a result of this, Jasmine isn't really as strong in her own right as several of the other princesses. But she's still awesome. She has a strong internal life and vibrancy, and the way her character revolves around a longing for freedom and the way that compares to Aladdin and the Genie makes her really come alive and work well within the context of the film. She's also clever, resourceful, a self proclaimed fast-learner, and someone who never allows her voice to be silenced. Yet even with all her strength, she's allowed tender moments of kindness and gentleness to show that there's another side to her. Also the TV series and sequels expanded on her character in a wonderful way.

6: Tiana (The Princess and the Frog)

Okay, yes, Disney's first black princess being a frog for more than half the movie was a bad creative decision on their part that wasn't a good look. But for Disney's first black princess, considering the company's history with race issues in particular and how self-conscious a lot of their princesses of color have come off, I think a lot of people underestimate just how good Tiana is. Tiana is vibrant and full of personality without every coming off as a stereotype or as anything less than dignified and admirable. She's hard worker, but she never comes off to me as trying to be "look how much better I am than the other princesses." She lets her actions and her character speak for themselves. I like that her arc is actually about finding a healthy balance between storybook love and wishing and hard work and determination. She's a woman with ambition, but she also learns to make time for a bit of fairytale fantasy and the things that really count like love and friendship. Also, just major props to Anika Noni Rose for making Tiana so damn likable and fun to follow.

5: Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)

And now that we're in the top five, we start getting into the classics. Aurora gets an unfair reputation as a basic boring princess who needs a man to save her and has no value of her own. But with Sleeping Beauty being an adaptation of ballet in particular, that's really missing the forest for the trees. Sleeping Beauty was envisioned by Walt as the pinnacle of animation, an animated film that would stand tall in an art gallery, and you can see that very much at play in Aurora. From Marc Davis's absolutely stunning animation on her to Mary Costa's beautiful vocal work in blending with the musical stylings of Tchaikovsky, Aurora is, more than any other princess in the Disney lineup, a piece of high art. She's written deceptively simply to allow for the animation and the music to convey the brunt of her character. And, when you get right down to it, Aurora is, like art, designed around the emotions of the piece more than specific character quirks. Yet the essence of her kindness, of her grace, and of her sly looks and shrewd coyness is all right there in the character. She also pretty perfectly encapsulates the emotions and feelings of young love, and I think there's a lot of value in that portrayal as well.

4: Ariel (The Little Mermaid)

I used to give Ariel a hard time in the recent past, and I fully regret allowing certain sects of discourse to color my view of her. Ariel is an amazing character, and an excellent princess. One of the things that has struck me, revisiting the movie as a gay adult, is just how queer of a story Ariel's is. Hans Christian Anderson wrote the original in response to male lover of his, openly gay Howard Ashman was a major creative driving force behind the story, and openly gay animator Andreas Deja brought to life the visceral Grotto scene based on his falling out with his own father. There's queerness baked into the fabric of this film, and it shows itself clearly with the narrative of a princess who is unhappy with her home life and has a forbidden love that she must hide away from her own family and then must undergo the process of evolving into the version of herself that she wants to be in order to satisfy the love within herself. She gets dismissed as being just a rebellious teenager, but there's so much more to her than that and she hits home to so many people for that reason. Also, Jodi Benson's incredible voice work and the writing for her makes Ariel constantly a vibrant and interesting character who I feel like we get to know better and more intimately than almost any other princess.

3: Cinderella (Cinderella)

Though, much like Aurora and Ariel, Cinderella gets an unfair reputation as weak and needing a man, that couldn't be further from the truth. Cinderella is an abuse survivor who keeps her dreams, optimism, and kindness alive even in the face of crippling despair and misery. She's a woman who fought a daily battle just for the right to keep existing, and while the Fairy Godmother gave her magical assistance, Cinderella earned her happy ending herself. I just have to admire how she embodies patience and kindness while also still being strong in her own way. She's not a masculine warrior action figure; she's very feminine. Yet she finds strength in her femininity without relying on sex, and I just think that's wonderful. I also really love how much personality and humanity they filled Cinderella with without going overboard or making her into a parody of herself. Cinderella maintains the grace, poise, and beauty of a princess all while having so many little quirks and traits that make her feel like a real woman. Also, it must be said, Cinderella III is still the best Disney sequel, and I love how it expands upon her and gives her new opportunities to prove herself all while maintaining the core kindness and strength of her character.

2: Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs)

The one that started it all and still a radiant joy of beauty and kindness, Snow White is everything a princess should be. Like Cinderella, Snow White shows that you can survive abusive situations with your positivity in tact. In fact, Snow White goes one step further. She shows that "there's no use in grumbling when raindrops come tumbling; remember you're the one who can fill the world with sunshine." She's a beacon of hope and positivity who shows that compassion and kindness are the true virtues that deserve to be held as the most precious. She also shows the importance of found family and finding a loving support system that is right for you even if that's not your actual family members. In addition to all that, Snow White is great for being full of personality and having a vibrancy to her. She meets the dwarfs and immediately begins to take charge and to hold them to the standards she expects. She's never afraid to make her voice or opinion heard, and she's also got a playful teasing side to her that shines through. While her film is a heightened reality, she still has a core realness to her that makes her plight and her adventure feel all the more immersive for a viewer.

1: Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

But my favorite princess is always plain to see. While I love many of the other princesses, none quite hit that same sweet spot for me that Belle does. Belle is an outcast. She's a well read and intelligent woman more concerned with books and ideas of adventure than she is with the types of things she's expected to be concerned with by her small town. According to the townsfolk, she should be only concerned with getting married to a handsome man and being his doting little wife. However, Belle has absolutely no interest in taking part in any of that nonsense, and because of that, the people of her hometown write her off as odd or crazy. Many of us have been in a similar situation and felt excluded from society because we were somehow "not normal." Whether it was for our sexualities, our weight, our skin color, our religious beliefs, our over abundant love of comic books, or what have you, many people out there feel alone and ostracized. Yet Belle is that shining beacon of someone who lives her authentic life no matter what the world around her thinks, and that can give courage to others who relate to those feelings. Belle inspires the Beast to change to be better for her, not because she can break a spell, but because she sees the true beauty inside of him that no one else ever had. Some of my favorite types of heroes are those individuals who see the good inside of everyone. Those who give everyone a fair chance, especially to those who were never given a chance by anyone before, are the type of heroes we need more of in real life. No she can't fight off villains or complete daring feats of physical prowess, but she doesn't have to do those things to make a difference. She can save an entire castle by goodness and compassion alone. Paige O'Hara really does a fantastic job filling Belle with personality as well. I love that her voice work conveys confidence and strength, but also has moments of gentleness and vulnerability. She's allowed to have a range of emotions and certain spunk that is nothing short of endearing. Special mention must go to how excited and energized O'Hara plays Belle as getting when she talks about her books and stories. You really get the sense that reading is Belle's passion, not just something she enjoys. There's a real sense that Belle experiences the world around her fully and vigorously, and that adds to the charm of her character that makes her, for me, the most likable and best of the Disney princesses.

#disney princesses #Belle #Snow White #Cinderella #Ariel #Aurora #Princess Tiana #Jasmine #Moana #Mulan #Pocahontas #marciabrady #I also just did the lineup princesses otherwise Eilonwy and Meg and Esmeralda would have ranked

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ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr · 4 years

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Wanda vision thoughts of episode 6 spoliers ofc

It’s startttttinggg I’m so excited I’ve heard good things.

I love the new into im trying to think of what show it’s related too it’s defiantly familiar.

The way it’s filmed like a show with the talks to the camera is making be very happy.

I LOVE WANDAS SCARLETT WITCH COSTUME. Visions too

“I don’t remember it like that,”

“Probably because you suppressed a lot of the trauma,” Now they’re saying it like it is.

“Mom and Dad have been not fighting just different?” Vision is still on edge as he should be honestly

AWW TOMMY IS A MINI QUICKSLIVER THATS SO CUTE.

Ugh now the sword agents are here with the plane and nasty Hayward.

Hayward is trying to pin the whole thing on Wanda again.

“We can’t outgun her and clearly antagonizing isn’t only making things worse,”

He brought up Monica’s mother then quicked the trio off the mission ig.

They took out the sword agents escorting them.

It’s back to the trick or treating and Peter/Pietro said “Raise hell demon spawn,” I may be reading too deep into this but that made me kind of suspicious.

“Do you remember we were in the orphanage after mom and dad died what was the name of that kid who was always trying to steal your boots. He had the... He had the skin thing?” Wanda to Peter/Pietro

“You’re testing me,” Peter/Pietro

“No I’m not,” Wanda

“Hey it’s cool. I know I look different,”

“Why do you... look different?”

Wanda knows this Pietro is different and doesn’t have the same knowledge as the other one which is why she was testing them she just doesn’t know where this version of him came from she’s still clueless to (the multiverse) that world.

This has to be like Uncle Jesse a bit he keeps calling himself Uncle P

“Say it again now all the candy has dissapeared?” Herb then cuts to all the kids looking down cause their candy is gone.

“And now all the jack-o-lanterns have been smashed?” Product of Quicksilver and the twins they’re using powers very openly this episode.

She just found out Vision wasn’t on duty

“Is there something I can do for you Wanda? Do you want something changed?” Herb

She seems caught off by the question I’m assuming that’s her subconscious trying to make up for the fact that vision lied to her and she wants to fix it.

Now she’s confused again.

He sees this woman who is glitching and crying she is trying to put a ghost decoration up over and over again. The she pain she is in is seeping through and I guess the control over her isn’t allowing her to do anything else but struggle to put up the decorations.

“I’m so hungry I’d eat anything,” Commercial snacked on Yo-Magic the kid is too weak to open it and they died. Yo-magic the snack for survivors. Still trying to figure out this commercial

“I got shot like a chump on the street for no reason and the next thing I know I heard you calling me. I knew you needed me,” Pietro/Peter very suspicious it’s a different multiverse Pietro but he definitely has bad intentions. He also brought up “isn’t that what you wanted?” Hinting to Wanda calling the shots.

Tommy had super speed now great now he’s running everywhere after Wanda told him to take it slow because she can’t control him.

“Do go past Ellis Lane,” I’m assuming that’s where that’s where hex cuts off.

The people near the edge are barely moving because they’re out of Wanda magic reach I think.

Also where’d Wanda get all those kids from there were none before.

Monica and the Jimmy and Darcy trio found out Hayward is tracking vision so now they can find out how sus be really is.

Vision is flying up to see everything and he here’s Halloween phrases and he sees a parked car

Should be Agnes from the trailer.

“ Town square scare. Where is it?” Agnes

“Oh, well the Town square I expect,” Vision

Agnes let out a creepy laugh.

“Took a wrong turn got lost,” there are tears in her eyes.

“In the town you grew up in?”

Vision pulls her out of the control.

“You... you’re one of the avengers youre vision are you here to help us?”

“I am Visuon. I do want to help. What’s an Avenger?” I guess Wanda does have some control over him if she was able to make him forget about everything before hand or maybe because he doesn’t have the mind stone he doesn’t have the memories but Shuri said without the mind stone there were so much vision still there. I’m gonna assume it’s Wanda

“What why don’t you remember?” Agnes “Am I dead?”

“No why would you think that?”

“Cause you are?”

“I am what?”

“Dead,” She confines to shout that she is dead.

She has brought up how no one leaves Wanda won’t even let them think about it. Her witch laugh is definitely a sign on Agatha she’s even wearing a witch costume and Peter Wanda and Vision all have their comic costumes on.

AHHH THATS WHY THEY CANT GO PAST ELLIS LANE BECAUSE THATS WHERE EVERYONE STOPS MOVING. They can’t move and it’s almost like they’re dead. There stuck in a cloud of Wanda grief.

I think Monica‘s powers are coming in because Darcy is talking about how her Energy in her cells on A molecular level is being rewritten and it’s unsafe too go back in the hex. In the comics Monica can turn herself into any form of energy I believe she can turn herself into pure energy.

“It’s changing you,” Darcy to Monica

Monica wants to stop Wanda’s grief.

Darcy is trying to breakthrough the into what Hayward is hiding which is the fact they’re trying to weaponize Vision.

“Where were you hiding all these kids up until now?” Pietro/Peter.

"What?” Wanda

“ I assumd they were all sleeping peacefully in their beds no need to traumatize beyond the occasional Holiday episode cameo, am I right?”

“No I dont-”

“You were always the empathic twin. hey don’t get me wrong you’ve handled the ethical considerations of this scenario as best as you could, families and couples stay together, most personalities aren’t far off from what’s underneath, people got better jobs, better haircuts for sure”

“You don’t think it’s wrong?” Wanda

“What, are you kidding? I am impressed seriously it’s a pretty big leap from giving people nightmares and shooting red wiggly-woos out of your hands” Like in age of ultron reaching into the Avengers biggest fears. On the other hand the phrase wiggly-woos is very cute.

He’s telling her how he can’t talk to her. And she said she doesn’t know how she did it she only remembers feeling completely alone and empty. So she was grieving and depressed. She just saw the gunshot wound and the white eyes on Pietro like she did to Vision with his head crushed earlier on. She’s losing touch to this made up world and is now getting glimpses of reality.

Darcy is almost at my into Hayward’s stuff.

Idk if these names are important but they’re in Hayward’s email so I’m gonna write them down.

James D. Gadd,

James J. Alexander

James X-ND Seckler.

James woo wasn’t listed in his contact either. He’s either been blocked or was never there.

Vision is at the edge of the hex HES breaking through now. He’s halfway out. Now he’s all the way out. The hex is pulling him back in and now he’s falling apart because he’s exciting.

THE BILLY CAN HEAR VISION SCREAMING

Hayward doesn’t want to help Vision so he’s handcuffing Darcy too a car.

Y’all really made Vision die again.

“It’s not like your dead husband can die twice,” Peter/Pietro she flung him backwards at that.

He can also see the soldiers and could hear Hayward. The hex is expanding outward to reach Vision and it swallowed Darcy and many other soldiers turning them into Circus performers and clowns. All the cars and shops it swallows turn into things to fit the aesthetic of her town.

I’m not sure if the hex is still moving outwards she opened her eyes so I think that was a signal that it stopped when her eyes went back from red to normal. Guess I gotta wait till next week.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wanda maximoff #jimmy woo #monica rambeau #darcy WandaVision #Tommy and Billy #Vision #pietro maximoff #quicksilver

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

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RWBY Recaps: “Spark”

What’s the current mood? I would sell all future RWBY seasons for one episode of The Mandalorian.

Okay, I exaggerate. Overall this episode had some really great moments, just (per usual) tied up in a lot of awful implications. Which frankly is a step up from last week’s more overt nonsense, so I’ll take it. I’ve just got Space Dad Fever like the rest of the internet so whenever RWBY does something stupid my brain goes, “Why can’t you be more like Baby Yoda? With non-forced cuteness and consistent writing?”

Okay, okay I’m focused on the correct fandom. I swear.

This episode opens with Penny waking the group up extra early. Yang wants to know what time it is. “Time to be huntresses, of course!” Really, the contrast between, ‘I love my job’ and ‘But my job makes me get up at an ungodly hour’ is easily the most relatable thing RWBY has done this season. I was also just greatly amused by the animation choices with in-world implications. Like that Weiss sleeps with her giant braid in. Or that the group owns nothing except for the new clothes on their backs. I wondered after the Volume Six’s train scene if most of their luggage had been up front with JNR, or if they’d lost it all during the crash itself. We only see three bags as they make their way to the farm.

Did Oscar re-pack everything before they had to hightail it out of that burning, grimm-infested place? I don’t remember and I’m way too lazy to go check. Yang then loses her motorcycle. Who knows, if they did have stuff, whether it got onto the stolen airship. Doubtful. I mean, Weiss showed up with a massive amount of luggage, but that’s for hiding grandmas. Basically, what I’m saying is that I think the group showed up in Atlas, exhausted, and had to tell Penny they don’t have PJs anymore. Cue standard issue t-shirts and strange thermal-ish pants.

We then begin a montage of their different work. It starts out not with the missions they signed up for last episode but anything and everything connected to Amity Arena. Keep clearing out the mines. Protect resource transports. Fill in for the missing soldiers in Mantle, etc. On the whole I legitimately loved these moments showing the various relationships and life as a huntress in Atlas, with the exception of two scenes. The first is during the section where we see Blake and Yang working with Marrow, who makes the mistake of saying a) that they should consider partnering with other people sometime and b) pointing out that he’s not sure their styles are complimentary.

Look, I get it. A few hours after the episode dropped and tumblr is already exploding with GIF-sets of this scene, celebrating how Blake and Yang are so in love they can’t even stand Marrow suggesting that they might spend some time apart. From a shipping perspective it looks like gold and as someone who also ships them I’d normally be inclined to celebrate too. Except that this is a really unhealthy pattern of behavior. Marrow is right. The group should practice partnering with other people for the simple reason that this is a job and they may not always get to decide who they’re going to work with. It’s a job with endless risks and they may not always be able to control who they end up fighting beside, because when was the last time a plan actually worked right? The advice of ‘Hey. Don’t stagnant by only fighting with the same person 24/7’ is sound, especially in an episode already focused on training and progress. As is the innocent observation that their styles don’t seem to compliment each other. Marrow isn’t being cruel here. He’s not trying to insist he knows better and separate them based on that. He’s just making casual conversation---and gets this in response.

This scene would read completely differently if Blake and Yang were playfully smug after that attack combo. Then it becomes a moment of bonding where they’re correcting Marrow through a bit of teasing. Instead they’re legitimately mad. Mad enough that Yang’s semblance briefly activates. I’ve mentioned before that Yang has a tendency to think the worst of people and act violently towards them on instinct (Ozpin, bot in the street) and that Blake has a tendency to go wherever she leads, even when that makes no sense for her own characterization (siding with Yang’s anger over her own experiences as an abuse survivor). This is another example of that. Marrow gives them good advice and makes a casual comment? Immediate fury from Yang. Yang’s pissed off? Well I’m gonna be pissed off too. I try not to bring shipping too much into these recaps, but I do think it’s worth mentioning here. Big Blake/Yang fans have a tendency to paint everything they do as the most Romantic Thing Ever ™; anti-Blake/Yang fans have a tendency to make blanket statements about how their relationship is inherently unhealthy. But as usual the truth lies somewhere in between. They’re fantastic together, I think Rooster Teeth is setting up a relationship, and there are also aspects that are unhealthy. Not because it’s queer (which is the basis for most antis’ anger), but because the writing has them enabling their flaws in the name of “support.” Sorry, but if you can’t deal with someone making a comment as innocent as Marrow’s without beating up a grimm in fury about it... then you either need to work out that relationship insecurity or work on general anger management. Because Marrow didn’t deserve those cold looks and these two weren’t justified in receiving his panicked backpedaling. It’s one of those little things that presumably means nothing on its own, but combined with Blake and Yang’s entire development speaks volumes. Let them talk through Adam. Let someone call Yang out on her judgments. It’s ‘fine’ in situations like this; not fine in situations like Volumes 5-6.

The other part of the montage that didn’t sit well was another ‘joke.’ Just like I’m not inclined to view Yang and Blake’s anger as cutesy romance stuff here, I’m not comfortable brushing off Jaune’s interaction with the kids’ moms as a bit of humor. Yeah, maybe I’m “sensitive,” but was no one else creeped out by that? Jaune might technically be an adult, but he’s, what? Nineteen? So a junior in college. Maybe a sophomore. A young adult is what I’m saying. Is it possible all these women are also eighteen to early twenties (it’s so hard to tell ages with RWBY) and they just had their kids early? Sure. It is possible that these women all decided to become single moms, or divorced their partners, or are open to polyamory? Also sure. But let’s be real here, that’s not the joke. The joke is that a group of older, presumably married women are thirsting over the young, hot huntsmen. People would be more willing to admit that it’s not a great humor choice if RWBY had done that to one of the girls, but when a guy is the target it’s seen as a funny victory. Look at Jaune getting all that older, adulterous attention! As Nora herself says, “It’s totally the haircut.” (Even though that haircut remains atrocious, sorry.) The message is basically that if a guy is hot enough it doesn’t matter that he’s just trying to do his job, that he’s probably far younger than you, that you’re probably married... go gawk at him and give him gifts that clearly make him uncomfortable.

Again, I realize I’m being “sensitive.” It’s just a web series, just a stupid scene meant to generate a laugh, etc. But I’ve reached a point in my life where I simply don’t find that sort of stuff humorous. As a woman who has had much older men hit on me while I’m trying to do my job, I look at the same thing happening to Jaune and ask, “Why was this supposed to be funny again?”

But anyway, enough about all that. Other moments in the montage include Ruby and Yang fighting grimm together (presumably in their downtime. Nerds), Winter pretending to be unimpressed with Weiss’ summoning, and Ironwood telling Oscar that maybe they can “jog [Ozpin] loose” with a bit of training.

Yeah, remember how excited we all were that, based on the Volume’s opening, we would at least see Oscar training with Ironwood? Remember how we all thought that this would provide him with some much needed character development? That maybe this would be the moment when he struggled with and potentially decided to come clean about their lies? Or he tries to talk to Ozpin while sparing with an incredibly difficult opponent? You know, since Ironwood himself brought up jogging Ozpin loose, we might actually get some interaction with Ozpin?

Boy were we optimistic! What we actually get is them charging each other for one hit before we cut back to others training. Namely Jaune. And this right here is the problem with this entire episode: for however cute and wonderful these moments might seem, they’re all flat out ignoring the primary conflicts of the show. The ones the writing keeps refusing to grapple with. Who knows how much time this montage is supposed to cover, but it’s substantial. We get multiple flashes of different days, see the group working on different missions, a couple different moments taking place in the early morning, so I’d wager at least another week has passed. Combine that with however long it took Pietro to make their weapons and you’ve got the group fully entrenched in their lies. No one is questioning Ruby. Ruby isn’t making headway towards trusting Ironwood. Everyone is just kicking their heels, happy with the status quo until something forces them to finally make a decision. They now, officially, have no right to judge Ozpin for the time he took to trust people. We see them doing the exact same thing here and they’re all happy about it. With the exception of those two quick flashbacks in “Ace Operatives,” we’ve seen no evidence that the rest of the group is struggling with their own hypocrisy. I---like many---had hoped that Oscar’s training session would finally acknowledge and expand on the rest of the team’s initial hesitation. But no.

(In which Jaune’s expression is me.)

Jumping ahead just a bit, we see this same issue when Ruby, Penny, Qrow, and Ironwood are out driving the supplies. Ruby and Penny finally have some time to themselves! Will they discuss her murder and resurrection? Nope. Ruby vaguely references it with, “You know...” but there’s no actual depth to their conversation (and if you can’t even say ‘When you died’ that implies that maybe there are some lingering feelings about all this). Instead Ruby is interested in whether Penny has made new friends and she says that Ironwood claims she has no time for friends. Slot that in next to the Ace Ops’ ridiculous, “We’re not friends.”

Second, we have this moment between Qrow and Clover where they reiterate the huge gap between age and experience here. Clover is hoping that “another generation” will do right by Remnant after we’re gone. Namely Ruby and the others. Continuing with that age theme, he reassures Qrow that “those kids wouldn’t be where they are without you” which is all well and good, but is anyone going to tell THEM that? The adults don’t need to know that they’re doing good work---even if it is nice for Qrow to get some validation for once---rather, the whole “we don’t need adults” fiasco came about because the teens refused to acknowledge that work. We don’t need someone telling Qrow that he’s helped keep them safe. Overlooking some insecurities (which RWBY isn’t tackling anyway), he knows that. We as the audience don’t need to hear it because we saw it all happen on screen. Rather, Clover should be put into a position where he reminds Ruby of all that her uncle has done for her. Just like Qrow talking to Ruby about her motivations for moving forward against Salem doesn’t accomplish anything, Clover telling Qrow, as one adult to another, that they’re worth something doesn’t accomplish anything either. These parties know all this already.

As a side note, this is why you should mix things up. Not just so that Blake and Yang can practice fighting beside other people, but so that people who don’t already agree can be challenged for once. Put Yang with Qrow and have him comment on her anger, continuing Tai’s work. Put Ruby with Clover and let him talk to her about what adults have done to get her here. All these moments of potential development are lost by maintaining the expectation that the original partners have to be the priority. Rooster Teeth had an easy way of throwing new people together by assigning them various missions and they didn’t take it. Yang is still with Blake. Ren is still with Nora. Of course Qrow is with the one other guy his age who we have to pair him with. Reinforcing these relationships is great, but so is pausing them too.

And then there’s the drinking.

Hold up one second. I need to grab a bit of writing from my Volume 6 finale recap. Think back to Qrow and Ruby’s interaction in the airship:

And then Qrow lowers his bottle which… what? Alcoholism doesn’t work like that. Much more importantly, no one has tackled his drinking this season. Or the reasons he was drinking in the first place. Literally, Qrow’s semblance, his place in the war, Ozpin’s secret, none of it has been addressed. He has no reason to suddenly put aside his flask like he’s actually learned something. Does RT think we’re going to just imagine scenes that never actually happened?

After I posted this a couple of people pointed out that it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. We’ve seen other times where Qrow goes to take a drink and then thinks better of it, so it’s a reach to assume he’s magically given up drinking now. Which, fair. Now though it looks like that’s precisely what we got. Sometime between being found passed out on the front steps of the Argus house and reaching Atlas, Qrow just decided he was done with drinking and thus far we’ve seen no evidence that he’s struggling with that. Meaning, it’s not a conflict he’s working through. That doesn’t seem to be his arc this volume.

Yet he’s an alcoholic. Qrow’s drinking may have functioned as a joke for most of Volumes 1-3, but Volume 6 made it abundantly clear that this problem is incapacitating for him, especially after learning about Ozpin and Salem. So what happened? What changed? Even if I choose to overlook Qrow just deciding not to engage with his addiction anymore without help or backslides that we know of (doesn’t work like that...), I can’t ignore the fact that there was no catalyst for this. If the show wanted us to work under the assumption that Qrow stopped drinking because it endangered his family then they should have had him stop after the farm. You know, when he was almost killed by Apathy and had to be dragged out by his nieces. As it is, his drinking continues on throughout their whole time at Argus. He’s not picking up his scroll. He’s passed out on the steps. He’s brushing past Ruby to go get a drink instead of helping them figure out a way past Cordovin. Then a day later they make it to Atlas. So what precisely in that 24 hour period happened to change one of Qrow’s defining characteristics? Or, if this is supposed to be an arc wherein Qrow attempts to get sober and struggles with it, why haven’t we seen that? Again, they’ve been in Atlas for weeks now. This isn’t a one day sober Qrow with a naively optimistic outlook. He’s apparently been managing this for a while now with no downsides, no difficulties, no regrets.

Blake and Yang getting mad at Marrow instead of acknowledging their trauma. Oscar taking one hit at Ironwood instead of grappling with their secrets. Ruby talking about new friends instead of the relationship she already has with Penny. Clover telling Qrow adults are important instead of anyone telling the teens that. Qrow revealing that he’s just not drinking anymore. For reasons. It’s amazing just how much space this episode provides for the characters to start working through their conflicts and we bypass every opportunity. This is RWBY’s primary problem. Beyond the pro-protagonist perspective is the issue that, especially since Volume 5, the show has made a habit of introducing intriguing problems and then either twisting them so they have simplistic ‘solutions’ (we don’t need to tackle Ruby’s hypocrisy. She’s just “different” from Ozpin) or ignores them completely. We don’t need a new friendship vs. professional relationship conflict. We don’t need a new luck vs. bad luck semblance conflict. Not yet anyway. Not until we work through the conflicts that have already been introduced. Let Ruby talk to Penny about their own relationship. Let Clover help Qrow get sober. RWBY is like me when I’m writing fic. Why would I finish the thing I started when there’s this shiny new idea over here? Except I’m engaging in a low-key hobby whereas they’re writing for their livelihood. For the love of everything, please solve the problems we already have before chucking in new ones. You can give us all the same moments and relationships, just tailor them so they acknowledge the things the viewers have been waiting for you to tackle. I don’t need to know why Ruby and her team are Super Special because they’re BFFs when everyone else in Atlas apparently rejects friendship like the plague. I do need to know why a guy who was introduced downing a glass of whiskey apparently got over his alcoholism off screen.

Ugh. You know what we need? Penguins. Everyone look at the penguins for at least five seconds and allow them to cleanse your soul.

Heading backwards, before the transport scene we get a training fight between JNR + Oscar and Neon’s group. I honestly wonder how a team like theirs feels about them getting their licenses. After all, they fought at the Battle of Beacon too. The only reason why RWBYJNR got into extra, life-threatening situations is because they stupidly went off on their own. I realize that duh, as a story we can’t just have our protagonists twiddling their thumbs, but from an in-world perspective Ruby snuck out of the house to hunt down a woman who would absolutely have killed her and 100% would have been kidnapped if Qrow hadn’t followed to keep her safe. Everything else stems out of that. So not exactly a classically heroic basis for special treatment. All of which Neon and Flynt presumably don’t even know about because it touches on all those secrets. I suppose they just heard something along the lines of, “I, Ironwood, am giving two Beacon teams early licenses because they survived a horrendous battle. You, my actual students, don’t get them even though you did the same work.” It could have been really interesting to have some tension over this and for the group to see another complication of their secret keeping. Here they have to keep Cinder, the Maidens, the Relic, etc. quiet... but because of that it leads to some pretty awful miscommunication between friends. There are repercussions to your secrets and not all of them are things you can plan for or fix.

We don’t have anything like that though. Obviously. Instead we just get a generic fight with a side of weird Nora/Ren stuff. Meaning, Neon calls him Nora’s boyfriend and asks, “Where’s that energy when he’s around you?” Later Nora asks if they’ll still get sandwiches before work and Ren heaves out an annoyed sigh.

That moment struck me simply because it doesn’t come across like one of his normal, happily indulgent sighs. Ren seemed legitimately annoyed. Which is even stranger when we consider that Nora isn’t being over the top here. Sure, she pops up behind him in a sort of silly manner, but really all she’s doing is expressing that she’s hungry after an intense battle. Can we please make sure we grab something before heading off to work? That’s a more than reasonable request.

Ren shutting her down over his hair. Seeming to ignore her when she fiddles with it while on patrol. Neon’s comment about his lack of energy around her. Nora getting mad enough about it to give her a black eye (RWBY so rarely shows injuries). Ren seemingly put out by her theatrics. They’re all little things that only seem to paint a picture when put together, but of what exactly? It’s like I said last time, if the show wants to introduce some sort of arc for Nora and Ren this volume it had better do it soon. Really soon. Details that may or may not be setup can only take you so far.

During this battle Ironwood smiles down at all their progress, which could be endearing or creepy, depending on whether you think he’s hiding something (more on that in a bit). Neon actually acknowledges Oscar’s existence and draws a blush out of him, so thank you for that, Neon.

I thought for just a moment that Jaune might compliment Oscar too, but he just compliments the other team instead. At least they’re letting him train with him. After last week’s episode I’ll take this small step forward.

Back past the talk between Qrow and Clover, we finally get to meet the infamous Robyn Hill. She blocks the road to Amity Arena with one of her Happy Huntresses, the same faunus who was spying on the project last episode. And who I forgot to mention in my recap. Whoops. I love Hill already though precisely because she’s able to do what our protagonists couldn’t last Volume: stand down when a plan fails.

Hill takes her shot by putting up the roadblock and asking Clover to be straight with her, but when that doesn’t work and it looks like they’re about to come to blows, she admits defeat and lets them through. That’s how you handle a tenuous ally. Keep the peace and regroup with a different idea. Show them basic respect so that they might help you in the future. Clover’s “good luck” regarding the election speaks volumes about how everyone does want to help each other, they just need to figure out a way to do it. Hill could have attacked the group and stood her ground purely because she believes she’s right---just as Ruby did with Cordovin---but she demonstrates her maturity instead. She didn’t risk lives for the sake of getting what she wanted right here, right now. Despite the fact that what she wants likewise involves the safety of the people. Take note, Ruby.

Speaking of, everyone catch that guilty look when Ruby learns that Ironwood’s project is taking resources directly from the city that most needs it? Yeah, what did you think was going to happen? At the very least the group saw that they were taking manpower away. Ironwood needs them to help protect Mantle because most of his men are off in the middle of nowhere, so the group is well aware that their actions are causing a negative impact. I highly doubt that the eight of them (including Qrow) can make up for however many people Ironwood is pulling out, to say nothing of the fact that many of them (like Ruby here) are also on Amity duty. They’re allowing Ironwood to put people, money, supplies, and time towards an endeavor that they know is bound to fail. Sure, it would be nice to have communication across Remnant without fear of losing that to the grimm again, but we all know Ironwood is primarily doing this because of the Salem situation. If he knew about her immortality he’d probably go, “Hmm. Well, the first part of the idea is still nice, but I probably shouldn’t pour this much into just a regular communications tower. Defeating Salem potentially justifies me hurting the people to get this done. But not anything else.” I’ll say it again: Ozpin’s secrets didn’t endanger anyone. Everyone from Pyrrha to Yang agreed to put their lives on the line for reasons entirely separate from Salem. Their lives were in danger from the start and, given their choices, always would be in danger. Ruby is the one whose secret is not just threatening all of Remnant in the future, but actively hurting people now too. She has the ability to stop this and she chooses not to.

Or rather, she chooses to keep putting off the decision. We’ll tell Ironwood when we’re ready. Yeah right. I still want someone to challenge Ruby on what this magical ‘He’s trustworthy!’ moment looks like. They’ve spent weeks with this man, fighting for him, training with him, accepting gifts in the form of weaponry, armor, facilities... so what exactly is it going to take, Ruby? I’m not saying Ironwood is trustworthy, I’m saying you can never know until the day they betray you. If that day comes. So when is Ruby going to acknowledge that? That she will never get that magical moment and that she’s just like Ozpin, putting off telling someone because the information weighs so heavily and there’s just too much to risk?

Hill thematically acknowledges the last two Volumes with, “It doesn’t have to be difficult. Just tell me,” while we all know it’s not that simple. Even if people would like it to be. Clover refuses, Penny spots two invisible huntresses closing in (nice), and as said, Robyn backs down.

We then end this episode with a long bonding session between Winter and Weiss. We see them fighting with their summonings and Winter comments about how, “You’ve grown up a bit, haven’t you?” We get it. You’re not subtle. Weiss has grown up. “Make no mistake. School is over.” They’re adults now! If only we saw that more than we heard it. Weiss at least is a character who has had legitimate, excellent development over the last couple of volumes. I’m admittedly a bit confused though regarding how that development aligns with the old Weiss. Meaning, we learned early on that she wanted to become a huntress to redeem the Schnee name. Now Winter is talking about how separating herself from the Schnees was the best thing to happen to her and Weiss seems to agree. So is that it now? Is Weiss just concerned with being her own person, or is she still invested in being a Schnee? Just a Schnee who embodies what her family used to stand for? It’s unclear based on the conversation.

Then. Ugh. They discuss Ironwood’s choices and Weiss snidely comments that, “Everyone thinks what they’re doing is right, but really they’re just looking out for themselves... and their secrets.” Yeah, Weiss. INCLUDING YOU. Are they really so dense that they don’t see how lying about how Ozpin disappeared was looking out for themselves, namely by making sure that Ironwood continued to embrace them with open arms instead of getting pissed? After all, it’s less likely that the group would have gotten a nice place to live, awesome weaponry, high-tech places to train, and early licenses if they’d admitted to their sins last volume. They’re also protecting their own secrets by spending these weeks nice and quiet, just ignoring the Ironwood problem completely. Weiss is protecting their secrets right now by encouraging Winter to question Ironwood’s intentions---subtly casting him and Ozpin in a bad light---while she herself is keeping secrets from Winter. I mentioned before that Ironwood’s smile could potentially be a bad omen if we follow the writing rule of, “If a character insists someone isn’t keeping anything from them... they’re definitely keeping something from them.” Winter’s belief that Ironwood doesn’t keep secrets from her sets up the expectation for the audience that he probably is. But we don’t actually know that yet. Weiss thinks Ironwood might be keeping secrets. Weiss knows for sure she and the rest of her friends are keeping secrets. Only one party is definitively guilty here, so I’m not sure why she feels entitled to act like she still has the high ground.

With Ironwood’s honor in question, Winter takes Weiss to see the Winter Maiden. We really don’t get to learn much about her except that she still looks young-ish (again: RWBY ages are hard) and seems to like to paint.

No one else can visit her---and thus we don’t hear the conversation---because Ironwood wants Winter to inherit the power. Okay. So that leaves us with a couple options now:

Older woman can inherit and Ozpin made a very iffy call in trying to foster that responsibility off on a First Year. Which is probably down to more writing concerns than Ozpin’s characterization. Meaning, you want to keep the conflict among the main cast, not bring in a random new character to do the volume’s Important Thing. So you set up Pyrrha as the Fall Maiden, even though in-world that looks like a sketchy decision. To say nothing of the fact that Rooster Teeth isn’t very good at setting down hard rules. What functioned as a limitation during Volume 3 can easily be wiped away in Volume 7. In the same way that we went from Qrow’s semblance being totally passive and range-based to “sometimes I can’t control it.”

Ironwood and Winter are assuming that Winter can inherit, but she’s actually too old now. They’ll be blindsided by this when the power unexpectedly goes to someone else.

Ironwood has convinced Winter that she can inherit but actually has some sort of other plan up his sleeve.

Really, my biggest takeaway is Winter’s speech about how she is choosing this. Regardless of whether fate forced her into a situation with only bad options. Regardless of whether others also want her to make this decision. It’s still her choice. 95% of the fandom needs to listen to that speech and then chuck Pyrrha into Winter’s place. Having only tough choices isn’t the same thing as having no choice. The fact that your choice coincides with what others want doesn’t lessen it. They both chose to take on this power and it’s wrong for others to trivialize that by claiming that the men in their life---Ozpin and Ironwood---manipulated them. It’s implying that they can’t make their own decisions. That making this terribly difficult choice doesn’t come down to their own strength. They know it’s dangerous, regardless of whether they understand every detail of that danger, and actively choose to take on that responsibility anyway. Because they want to do some good in the world. The fandom has worked its butt off to take that away from Pyrrha and I really hope they don’t do the same to Winter.

Although... the death flags. Yeesh but Winter looks like a particularly enticing target for the end of this Volume. What with talk of destiny and all... I really hope the series doesn’t go the route of giving every Team RWBY member one of the Maiden powers, what with Winter in a position to think about Weiss if she dies with the power, Raven in a position to think about Yang, and Cinder obsessed with Ruby literally all the time... yeah. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m personally more invested in ‘normal’ people managing the impossible through hard work, belief in themselves and each other, all that jazz. Not already overpowered people (at least in Ruby’s case) getting literal magic to solve their problems with. There’s so much more you can do with that.

Finally, Jacques comes online to spew a bunch of BS about how everything ever is Ironwood’s fault and he’s totally suffering just like everyone in Mantle.

Right.

As Winter says though, the lies are just enough of a “spark” to ignite an already pissed off populace. We close on an angry mob beginning to tear the streets apart. Guess we’ll find out next week how the group tackles that nasty problem.

Until then! 💜

Minor Things of Note

What was that sandwich gag? RWBY is really pushing the humor in iffy directions this volume.

I enjoyed Qrow and Clover playing cards though. What a mess with their semblances.

Also, I made us a poster:

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #mymetas #rwby recaps

86 notes · View notes

teratalia · 5 years

Text

Android partner x human

Feel like a slow burn? How about one that takes place during a zombie apocalypse?

This time, I'm using an OC of mine instead of the reader - do you prefer one type of story over the other? Also I may be expanding upon this story and doing some worldbuilding later? Maybe? :)

Quick notes: some violence. That's all lmao

Slowly weaving my way through the once grand mall, I make my way through the wreckage in search of usable supplies. Other survivors may have grabbed most of the good stuff, I think as I rifle through piles of trash. That thought doesn’t stop me, though—resourcefulness is second nature to me. A pity that I don’t have all the time in the world to search.

I hear a labored groan behind me and sigh, pulling my heavy metal pipe from my bag. “Can’t a girl look around without this kind of thing happening?” I grumble as I easily knock the zombie down, avoiding its snapping teeth as I deal with it quickly. Making sure it won’t move again, I grab some nonperishable food and walk away.

I can’t remember the last time I saw another regular person, one that wasn’t infected. Ever since the zombies took over the city, most people were either lucky enough to leave or unlucky enough to join the zombies. I’m stuck in the middle—it’s too late for me to leave without tons of help, but I refuse to be infected. And so I’m forced to wander, doing my best to survive. Sometimes I miss seeing other people; living in a densely populated city, I'm very much used to being surrounded by others. I had become so used to the usual noisy city atmosphere that this silence, punctuated only by zombie snarls, is so unnerving to me.

Lost in thought, I almost don’t notice the zombie sneaking up on me. Biting back a cry of shock, I swing my pipe, connecting with its chest. The sharp end digs into its rotting flesh, spilling acidic greenish blood. Sidestepping the growing puddle, I finish the job, trying not to linger too long.

Hoping that I didn’t make too much of a sound, I keep walking. Last thing I want is to be noticed by something unfriendly.

I round a corner and spot something I never thought I’d see again. A regular-looking person, whose skin tone isn’t tainted by the infection, stands with their back to me. They are inspecting an old, crumbling poster ad sporting a happy family smiling about whatever product. Deep reddish brown hair falls to just below their ears, straight and in a choppy style, and it’s not dirtied or bloody at all.

For a moment, I just stand there, unable to comprehend what I’m seeing. Then a giant smile takes over my face and I stride forward, calling out, “Hello over there, I never thought I’d see someone else here! Are you okay—"

Searing heat blooms across the arm holding my metal pipe and I drop it, wondering why my arm hurts so much. Looking down, I see the bullet hole, and looking back up, I see the other person’s weapon. When did they pull out a gun...?

The pain is too much for me, and as I collapse, the last thing I see is a pair of bright red eyes, wide and confused.

***

I wake up slowly, feeling sore yet warm. I push off the blanket and wince as my arm stings, instantly regretting that movement.

“Do not move. You are still hurt.”

I jump and glance around wildly, not seeing anyone there. “Who-!”

They step out of the shadows, red eyes looking down at me curiously. “I have attempted to bandage your wound. Please tell me if it is satisfactory,” they say in their quiet, mechanical voice.

I inspect the wrapping - it’s not half bad actually - and it takes me a moment to put two and two together. “Hey, who are you exactly?”

They sit next to me. “I am Unit Alpha-Iota-Zeta-746, codename Alizarin. I am not well versed in human anatomy, so do pardon me if the bandage is uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, Alizarin. Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

I wait a moment but they don’t say anything else. “Aren’t you going to apologize for shooting me?”

They blink at me, tilting their head slightly. “I merely assumed that you were infected, and acted upon my instinct. I did not do anything that should cause offense.”

I stare at them incredulously. “...You shot me. That is offensive enough, especially since I didn’t actually do anything wrong. I wanted to greet you, because you are the first non-zombie I’ve seen in months.”

“Is that so?” They think hard for a moment. “I see. Then I am sorry, for you meant no harm. I suppose you were looking for another human?”

“I was.”

“Then I am sorry again.”

“What for? The first apology made sense, but not that one.”

“I am sorry because I am not a human, and yet you found me. You must be disappointed.”

Was that a hint of sadness in their voice? Without thinking, I reach out to comfort them. Instantly they recoil from my touch, and I draw my hand back down to my lap.

“I’m not disappointed, actually. Would you mind if I keep you company for a while, Alizarin?”

“Keep me company?”

“Yes, I would like to spend time with you. You can keep me around and protect me from zombies, and in return I can tell you more about humans. It would probably be easier to learn about humans from an actual human, right? How’s that?”

Alizarin frowns thoughtfully. “It sounds like it may be troublesome...very well. We will try this arrangement and see how things go.”

“Then I’ll be in your care. Call me Tess, by the way.”

“Tess,” they repeat carefully. “I am pleased that we were able to speak, but I believe you should rest more. Rest accelerates healing, I believe.”

“If you say so,” I sigh, sinking back down into the pillows.

“I do.” They blink down at me, and I roll my eyes.

“Maybe I’ll teach you about being too literal,” I mumble, quickly drifting off to sleep.

The next day greets me with rays of sunlight directly onto my face. With a quiet groan I sit up, rubbing my eyes and stretching leisurely. When I open my eyes fully, Alizarin is sitting right next to me, watching me intently. I quickly slide towards the other end of the bed, clutching the blanket in trembling hands.

“Do humans always take a long time to start up?” They ask, leaning forward.

“Yes,” I mumble, still feeling a little sleepy. “Sometimes I even wake up and then go right back to sleep. Then I wake up late and regret everything.”

“Fascinating.”

I start to glare at the android, but then I realize there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in their tone.

“Well, now that you are awake, I do have some matters to attend to.” Alizarin abruptly stands and moves to the door.

“Hang on. My clothes are ruined and I need food.”

They pause, thinking. “That dresser there has spare clothing,” they point to it, “and I believe I have non perishable food in the next room. Feel free to help yourself.” With that they leave me alone.

“Not much of a friendly roommate, are you?” I grumble, getting up and grabbing some clothes. A little baggy, but not a terrible fit. I wished that my clothes were more like Alizarin's, which looked like a very efficient black bodysuit with silver accents. Then I quickly eat and run to catch up with the android, who barely spares me a glance.

“I am returning to that spot in the mall where we met,” they say quietly, and for the first time I realize that the little place they’re staying is actually an old mall restaurant that they repurposed into a living space. The place with the bed was probably the manager’s office, the food was in the kitchen, and most of the tables and chairs out front were pushed up against the main doors. We leave through a more discreet side door.

"So what were you looking for, anyway?"

"Signs of human life."

I have to press my lips together to stop from laughing out loud. "Well, you sure found it then, didn't you? What luck."

They stare at me blankly. "I do not know if luck has anything to do with it. It is merely a coincidence that I ended up shooting you."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Never mind. Anyway, while we're out and about, we should collect some more supplies."

"What for? I have quite a large amount stashed away."

"Yeah, but it's all gross canned stuff. Also there's no water. Two important lessons for you right now: one, humans also need to drink water to survive, and two, if given the chance, humans would rather eat almost anything other than old canned goods."

Alizarin nods seriously. "I understand. We will also find food and water for you, then." We continue walking, and they quietly mumble, "This may be more troublesome than I initially thought."

I open my mouth to retort, but I'm interrupted by a zombie barreling towards us out of nowhere. Raising my trusty pipe, I prepare to separate its head from its decaying shoulders, but Alizarin quickly raises one hand. Faster than my eyes can follow, they shoot some sort of small red laser beam from their fingertips, easily penetrating the zombie's weak skull. It collapses as I stare at the android, jaw dropped.

"What is that?" I point to their fingers.

"It is a simple and efficient laser gun, built into my hand." When they see my worried glance, they add, "Do not be concerned. It will not fire randomly unless I suffer a serious malfunction.

Still a bit concerned, I just shrug and keep going, deciding to take their word for it.

The day is spent warding away zombies and collecting usable equipment and supplies. Or at least, Alizarin shoots down any zombies and I busy myself with stuffing my bag. Extra blankets, food, water bottles, whatever I can carry until the bag and my arms are fit to bursting.

"I think this was a productive day, don't you think?" I say cheerfully as we start to head back to the restaurant.

"I suppose you could say that. I would have been able to cover more ground by myself," they say matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, probably. But then you wouldn't have such a great companion," I joke, ignoring their blank expression. "Look, if we're going to spend time together, don't you think you could be just a little nicer to me?"

"I am not entirely sure what this 'nice' entails, but I will do my best."

"Good. It starts with not subtly insulting me like that."

Alizarin's brow furrows as they think. "I see. I did not realize that my statement could be seen in a negative light. I apologize, Tess."

"See, you're making progress already!" I grin at them, and they just nod.

I don’t realize how tired I am from exploring until we make it back to our hideaway. Right after dropping all my new things, I yawn, and Alizarin notices instantly.

“You are tired, correct? You may rest in the back room again.”

“Thank you, Aliz,” I respond gratefully, shuffling past them and ignoring their indignant look.

“...Aliz?”

I wave over my shoulder and don’t say anything. They’ll learn to be fine with the nickname, I’m sure.

I kick off my boots and collapse face first on the bed. Being horizontal just feels so right...

But right before drifting off, I blink and sit up. Doesn’t Alizarin also need to rest? Maybe they are uncomfortable spending the night with me, but they had no problem watching me the other night. Forcing myself up, I head back to the dining room to get them to power down or whatever.

Alizarin is sitting at one of the tables, tapping away at their left forearm. A red holographic screen is projected from their arm, and as I approach I see the little keyboard glowing faintly red on their arm.

“Alizarin, what’re you doing?”

They whirl to face me, looking like they’re going to attack.

“Whoa!” I hold up my hands. “I’m unarmed!”

“I know you are.” They calm down, passing their right hand over their arm and shutting down the hologram screen and keyboard. “It is nothing to be concerned about. What is the matter?”

“Oh, I just thought you should also get some rest. It’s really late, and I want to be up early with you tomorrow.”

Alizarin merely blinks at me. “As you wish. I do not need as much rest as humans, though.”

“Sure, sure.” I gently shove them towards the back room, and surprisingly enough, they let me. “But you should rest nonetheless. Go ahead and shut down or whatever it is you do.”

They chuckle, the corner of their mouth quirking up in a lopsided smile. “I rarely shut down completely. I will go on standby so that if anything happens, I will wake up immediately.”

“Sounds useful.” I flop back down on the bed and watch as they settle in the chair. Their eyes dim slightly, dulling to a deep red. With a shrug, I shut my own eyes.

***

“What was this building for, Tess?” Alizarin looks around with barely concealed interest as we walk through dilapidated halls. It had been a few weeks since we started exploring together, and the place where they accidentally shot me is now just a faint scar and a memory. More and more Alizarin is showing me new expressions and actually talking to me, which I was absolutely thrilled about.

“This was a movie theater, where people would buy overpriced snacks and watch movies together.”

“Why would people pay for overpriced food?”

I giggle. “It’s the full experience, Aliz. Are you really watching movies here unless you’re stuffing your mouth with buttered popcorn and giant cups of soda?”

Thankfully they are finally used to my little nickname for them, and they merely frown in confusion. “I really will never understand you humans.”

Despite the frustration in their quiet voice, Alizarin is eager to explore, staring at ripped movie posters and broken signboards.

Watching them makes me smile, and I don’t notice the hisses until it’s too late.

Alizarin’s eyes suddenly snap to me and they yell my name as a giant zombie grabs my arm and yanks me backwards. I turn, coming face to face with it, and shuddering away from its horrific appearance. Usually I can tear myself away from a zombie’s grasp, but this one is unnaturally strong, decaying muscles flexing as it drags me away from Alizarin. It hisses and snarls, dirty fingers digging into my flesh. I can only be grateful that it didn’t instantly bite me, but what could it possibly want then?

I struggle, to no avail. No matter how much I kick and flail, its grip doesn’t loosen.

“Alizarin!” I scream, wishing I’d brought a bat or my pipe with me. The one day I don’t bring a weapon...

The android leaps over us, gracefully landing in front of the zombie. It snarls and waves its free hand as if to shove them out of the way.

“Let her go,” they say calmly.

The zombie shakes its head, growling. It understood their words?

Alizarin raised an arm, fingertip glowing red, and before the zombie could react the laser shot right through its head. Releasing my arm, it collapsed in a heap of decaying muscle and flesh.

“Thank you,” I gasp, extending a hand without thinking. “Let’s just leave, okay?”

Alizarin nods, taking my hand and leading me away. I glance back at the zombie. With its last bit of life, it isn’t grimacing or snarling aggressively. It stares back at me solemnly, almost sadly. I shudder and turn away.

"Are you hurt, Tess?"

"No, I'm fine." Still a little shaken, I search for something, anything, to distract me from how I’m feeling.

As we walk, I start to talk just to hear myself talk, not really caring if Alizarin is listening. "You know, that zombie reminds me of some creepy guy that tried to get my attention ages ago. I was just walking down the street minding my own business when he started yelling weird things and trying to get my number. I had to basically run to make sure he wouldn't follow me. It might've been my fault for walking at night, but that doesn't mean he had to be so aggressive."

"Do humans walk outside for fun?"

"Sometimes, yeah. I miss it now. Sure, even before the zombies it wasn't always safe, but sometimes it was worth it just to breathe some fresh air."

"The air inside this building is no longer fresh. Due to the zombies, I suppose."

"Yeah, pretty much."

I continue chatting idly about anything, and before I know it we're back in our restaurant.

"Ah, back at our home base." I let go of Alizarin's hand and stride forward, arms wide.

"Home base? Ours?"

Turning back to them, I open my arms in their direction. "That's right. This place is like our home right now, isn't it?"

"I suppose so." Alizarin walks forward, looking confused. "I just do not fully understand the concept of a home. Is this not a rundown restaurant in the middle of a destroyed mall?"

"Of course it is, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that we are living here, and that we're together here. That's what makes it a home."

Alizarin still looks stunned, an unfamiliar glint in those red eyes. Acting on instinct, I grab them in a hug before they can pull away, and surprisingly enough they don't instantly break out of my arms. Instead they awkwardly wrap their arms around my back. I giggle and give them a squeeze before letting them go.

"I'm gonna go sleep," I announce, heading towards the back room.

It takes them a second to reply. "Very well. I need to take care of something."

"Promise me you'll come rest with me soon, okay?"

"Okay, Tess."

Sure enough, before long I hear Alizarin settle down in their chair next to the bed. Knowing that they're nearby makes me feel safe enough to fall right asleep.

***

"Today," says Alizarin, "I would like to investigate the fifth floor of the mall. There may be something interesting, and we may even find access to the roof there."

"Sounds good to me, lead the way."

I obediently follow them up several flights of stairs, biting back complaints about having to walk so much. If the elevators were still functional, I would have suggested we use them, but they're no better than giant hunks of metal and glass at the moment. We don't encounter many zombies on the stairs, and the ones we do see are quickly taken care of by Alizarin.

Finally we reach the top floor, and it isn't in a great state. Storefronts destroyed, forgotten merchandise laying around everywhere, walls and floors broken and cracked.

"Seems just like every other floor," I mumble, sidestepping a pile of rubble. "A complete mess."

Alizarin nods. "Indeed. Regardless, I believe there may be something useful here."

As we walk, I look around for supplies that we can bring back with us. I almost don't notice the zombie approaching us, but by the time I do, Alizarin had already killed it with their gun.

"Thanks for that."

"Not a problem. I don't wish for harm to come to you," they say matter-of-factly. Part of me wants to tease them for those words because it's basically equivalent to professing their undying love for me, but I hold back. Instead, I want to let them know that I'm grateful for those words.

The moment I open my mouth, I'm interrupted by a terribly loud cracking sound. We exchange stunned glances as the very floor breaks, chunks falling out from under us.

Flailing wildly, I manage to grab onto the side of the now gaping hole in the floor. My backpack is becoming a burden, so I slip it off and toss it to a safe spot. Then I make the mistake of looking down. Heights had never been a huge fear for me, but the collapsing fifth floor had broken through multiple other floors, and what should have been a relatively painful yet safe fall had now become deadly. I can no longer see the bottom.

"Alizarin?" I scream, trying to look through the dust and debris to spot a glimpse of bright red. "Are you okay?"

I don't see anything for a solid minute, and I take the time to haul myself up onto solid ground before staring down again. The faint sound of rocks cracking together reaches me, and eventually I see them slowly climbing the chunks of floor that are barely clinging together.

"Oh thank god," I gasp before yelling, "Alizarin, you can do this! It's safe up here!"

They look up, bright red points twinkling, and they continue to make their way up towards me. I hold my breath as they go, but Alizarin seems to be doing just fine.

Once they come within just a few feet of me, close enough that I can reach and touch them, something snaps. The piece of rubble they're holding onto breaks off and they nearly fall.

With a shout I lunge forward, grabbing their hand in both of mine. I never truly thought about how heavy an android would be, but they're definitely not light. I groan, holding on as much as I can.

"Tess!" They cry out. "Let go of me, I am far too heavy for you to pull up."

"Absolutely not!" Planting my feet firmly in the ground, I strain to pull them up. "There's nothing you can hold onto anymore. You'll fall."

"I believe that I will not sustain much damage from a fall, Tess. I have undergone rigorous physical testing."

"At this height?" I grit my teeth. "A fall like this might damage you beyond repair. I think not."

"I will be fine," they insist, though now they sound unsure.

I don't bother to reply, instead putting all my energy into pulling them up. After what feels like forever, I manage to get Alizarin high enough that their whole torso is over the lip of the hole, so that they can easily pull themselves the rest of the way.

I fall backward, arms and legs splayed, utterly exhausted. Alizarin sits next to me.

"Tess -"

"Aliz, are you okay?" I interrupt them, looking them over carefully from my spot on the floor. "A climb like that must not have been easy. If you have any scratches or anything, let me know and I'll help get you cleaned up."

They stare down at me for a moment. "You are concerned about my well-being?"

"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be? You had to do so much more than I did just to get up here."

"I should be the one concerned about you, as I believe I am much heavier than the average human."

"Must be the weight of that hunk of metal you call a brain," I reply with a small smile.

"You must be fine, if you can make comments like that." Alizarin smiles back at me. "We will move on when you are ready."

"I appreciate that. Wait, do you still want to go to the roof?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, it may be dangerous getting there, if this hole is any indication."

They shake their head. "It will be fine. I believe it is important that we make it up there."

I shrug, and after a little more rest I grab my bag and we resume our exploration.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"Tess, I do not understand the nature of your apology."

"I just feel like I'm really accident prone, and you have to deal with it. Like that giant zombie a week ago, and now this," I reply, pointing over my shoulder at the giant hole.

Alizarin merely shrugs and takes my hand. I raise an eyebrow.

"I would like to help you ward off any future accidents."

I can't refuse that. I just grin and keep walking.

We find some stores that are still relatively intact, and after warding off any zombies, I fill my bag with supplies. That taken care of, we set off in search of access to the roof.

It's nighttime by the time we reach the roof, and it's been a surprisingly long time since I've been outside. Ever since I entered the mall and met Alizarin, I've stayed inside the whole time. I had thought that by now, pollution would have spread across the sky like a physical manifestation of the infection, blocking off the sky. Instead, the night sky is clear, stars shining overhead as if nothing's wrong.

"Wow," I sigh, finding a clear spot to sit on the roof. "For some reason I didn't think I'd see the stars again."

"I do not know how to respond to that." I tug on their hand and Alizarin sits next to me.

"That's fine." We sit there in silence for a while and I close my eyes, enjoying the night breeze. Then I look to them, seeing the stars reflected in their red eyes. "Aliz?"

"What is it, Tess?"

"Do you ever think we'll get rid of this virus and be able to live normally? Do you think there's hope for us?"

I don't expect them to respond, and they're silent for so long that I assume they won't. "I do not know what 'living normally' is like," Alizarin starts slowly. "I was created with the sole purpose of aiding humans during this time; thus, I do not know what life was like before the outbreak. Seeing how this mall is today, the best I can do is to imagine what it was like when it was still fully functional. However, I was not programmed with a large imagination." They turn to look at me. "Despite this, and despite my lack of knowledge about feelings, I believe that there is hope to be had. I know that hope is something that humans hold dear, and I believe that it is something that you should not let go of."

They stare back up at the stars. "That was quite wordy, was it not?"

I don't respond, simply turning away so they can't see my face.

"Tess? I am afraid that my answer was much less than satisfactory."

Wiping a tear from my eyes before they can see, I say, "No, Alizarin, that was really good. Thank you."

"I am not sure that I understand your gratitude, but I am glad of it nonetheless." As if sensing that I need a minute, they let go of my hand just to pull me in so that my head is resting on their shoulder.

We sit there together, comfortable silence between us. I don't know if they made things up just to console me, but I still appreciate it.

Then I remember something. "Hey, Aliz. Why was it so important that we come to the roof, anyway? You never told me why."

They are silent, almost as if they're reluctant to answer. "I wanted to survey the area around this mall, to see the best escape routes for a quick departure," they respond slowly. "That was my first reason, but I then gained a second, unexpected one. Because of you."

Alizarin falls silent, and I think over their words. Because of me…?

Then it dawns on me. That time when I was rambling, and I said I missed fresh air and going outside. A huge grin splits my face and I grab the android in a sudden hug, squeezing their midsection.

"Aliz, you are the best. Thank you."

Alizarin actually lets out a quiet chuckle, patting my head. "I believe we could stay out here for the night, if you so wish."

I gasp, pulling out of their embrace to see them more clearly. "Really?"

"I did slip a blanket in the bottom of your bag when you weren't looking. In addition, I have a heating function that may prove useful."

"You really are the best. I can't thank you enough,"

"I believe that getting some rest would be the best way to thank me. Wait one moment."

With a fond smile, I watch them walk over to the roof door and then reach into my bag, finding the blanket and laying it out on the roof tiles. Alizarin sets up a simple barrier in front of the door so that nothing can sneak up on us before heading back over to me. Lying down, I tug Alizarin down with me.

"Ooh, you are warm. This is nice," I mumble, snuggling into their arms.

"I am glad I could be of assistance."

I want to joke around with them, but the exhaustion of the day catches up to me all at once and I quickly fall asleep.

I wake up the next day just in time to watch the sunrise, orange and purple hues dyeing the desolate world around me. Looking to Alizarin, I find that they're still shut down, eyes closed and unmoving. What a rare opportunity...enjoying their warmth and closeness, I watch them in the quiet calm of the morning light.

Eventually they wake up, eyes opening and brightening to their usual red color. Looking down at me, they smile softly, shifting so that my head is on their chest.

"Good morning, Tess."

I try to ignore how my face heats up under their gaze, but they tilt their head, sitting up while still holding me.

"Morning, Aliz."

"Tess, why did your body temperature just increase suddenly? Is something wrong?"

Grumbling about how observant they are, I shake my head and get up to stretch. "Don't worry about it. Shall we head back?"

Alizarin still looks concerned, but seems content to shrug it off and leave the roof with me.

The trek back down through the mall is much less treacherous, because the giant hole in the top floor has already been formed. We simply walk around it, careful not to get too close. The rest of the walk back is, thankfully, uneventful.

That night, I toss and turn in the little bed, unable to sleep. I made Alizarin promise to rest with me, so what was taking so long? Was it that hologram thing I've seen them using?

I get up and head to the dining room where sure enough, they're sitting with the red hologram projecting out of their forearm. This time, instead of typing, they're staring at it with an odd expression. I don't know what to make of it, but I don't like it, so I approach slowly.

"Aliz? Are you going to rest with me?" I ask, biting back questions about the hologram.

They sigh, the sound crackling like static. "I would like to, but I am not tired."

I sit down next to them. "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen to you."

"Thank you, Tess." Alizarin stares at the hologram, eyes flicking back and forth over words I don't understand. "I am being recalled to the facility that I came from. My creator would like to see me."

"Facility?"

"Yes. I suppose that building is what I should call my home, but…" They trail off, and I take their free hand.

"I understand. Tell me about the facility, are there other androids too?"

"That is correct. I am one of various androids that have different jobs. Mine is to survey the zombies and bring back intel, which is sent through my communication screen," they explain, indicating the hologram. "I do not know if my creator is unsatisfied with my work or simply has a new assignment for me, but I am being ordered to return for a while."

Seeing their troubled expression, it doesn't take me long to make up my mind. "Okay, I'll come with you."

Alizarin shuts down the hologram, staring at me with wide eyes. "I don't think I heard you correctly."

"I'm pretty sure you did. I'm coming to the facility with you. I might not be of much help, but I at least want to give you moral support."

"Is that something humans do? What a strange concept," they say, unable to hide a small smile. "If you insist - "

"Oh, I do insist. You don't have to worry about me, Aliz."

They nod, but a little crease between their eyebrows persists.

The next day, Alizarin doesn't really talk to me, instead preparing to leave in silence. Any attempts to start a conversation with them is shot down with one word answers and simple nods. I do wish that they would just tell me what's going on, but I don't want to push.

With our supplies collected and everything accounted for, we finally leave the mall. As we go, I can't help but look back at the old restaurant that used to be our home, at the dilapidated shops that gave us what we needed to survive.

"Is it strange that I'm almost sad to leave this place?" I murmur, not thinking that Alizarin will hear me.

They chuckle, and it's the first actual expression they've given me that day. "I find that to be an odd sentiment, but I cannot deny that the restaurant was a secure location that was difficult for zombies to access."

Alizarin starts chatting with me, to my relief, and before I know it we're already outside the mall and making our way through the rundown streets. We easily take care of any stray zombies, them with their gun, me with my metal pipe, a great tag team.

They lead me off the cracked pavement and into a forest, to a place that I had never gone to even before the apocalypse. This facility is probably well hidden, which makes sense.

Before long, Alizarin gestures to a nearby tree.

"Let us leave our supplies here. I do not plan to stay in the facility for long, nor do I want you to stay there. When we leave, we can retrieve everything."

"Sounds good to me." I drop my bag behind the tree, but hesitate to put my metal pipe down too.

"The facility would not take kindly to an armed visitor..."

I sigh. "Yeah, I figured." And I put it down and continued on.

Alizarin is silent again, but now they speak up. “I must tell you something, Tess.”

“What’s up?”

“I am not very pleased about you coming to the facility with me,” they confess. “In fact, when I sent back reports of my findings, I excluded you from my notes.”

I think back to certain nights where I saw them tapping their forearm, staring so intently at the hologram that they didn’t notice my approach. “Why is that?”

“Because I do not know what they might want to do to you. My creator may be interested in you. We have not found very many live humans in this area, and the ones that enter are usually not allowed to leave.”

I shudder, but try to put on a brave front. “I don’t care. I’m coming with you regardless, okay? You’re not going to scare me off.”

They give me that crooked smile I adore. “I know that.”

I link our arms together as we walk, partly because I want to and partly because it’s easier to dodge wayward branches that way.

Eventually we reach the facility, a metallic building that doesn’t look so big at first glance, but Alizarin told me about the main section in the giant basement. They stride forward with me in tow, holding out their left forearm to a scanner by the door.

“Unit Alpha Iota Zeta Seven Four Six, and a human guest.”

The scanner beeps and a robotic voice says, “You may proceed.”

The door opens by itself. Once inside, I try not to gawk at the futuristic yet minimalist design.

"I would like you to know that it has been quite some time since I have returned here," they murmur. "This may be an uncomfortable encounter."

"That's fine," I reply, squeezing their arm. "I'm with you every step of the way."

Alizarin walks with purpose, leading me to an elevator. We descend down into the depths of the underground, arriving in the main part of the facility.

As we walk, Alizarin nods to the other androids we pass by. They all have brightly colored hair and matching colored eyes as well, and they nod back and ignore me, for which I'm grateful.

Eventually we reach an ornate silver door that Alizarin tells me leads to the main laboratory. They take a deep breath and reach for the handle.

“Alizarin. Back already?”

We turn to see a tall, imposing woman approach us. She’s pretty in an intimidating way.

“Mother.” They greet her.

“M-mother?” I gasp.

The woman’s gaze falls on me then, as if she just noticed my presence. Seeing Alizarin’s arm linked with mine, her eyes narrow dangerously and I find myself taking an unconscious step back.

"You brought a human into my facility?" She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"I did. She is my companion."

"Do you not realize that this is a serious breach of security? How did they even let you in here with her?"

They shrug. "I introduced her as my guest. It is not a problem, as I trust her completely."

I would be happy about those words if the woman wasn't staring daggers at the two of us.

“Alizarin. Hand that person over to me. Now.”

“What will you do with her, Mother?” Alizarin slips out of my grasp, stepping in front of me.

“Are you questioning me?”

“No, of course not—“

“Then hand her over.”

When they don’t reply, the woman’s voice drops to a low growl, and I shiver. “Unit Alpha. Iota. Zeta. Seven. Four. Six.” Every syllable is dripping with ire. “You will give that girl to me right this instant. Do not make me repeat myself again.”

Alizarin’s shoulders are stiff and so is their tone. “Very well.” Grabbing my arm, they pull me forward.

“Aliz! Alizarin! What’re you doing?” I struggle in their grasp, to no avail. “Don’t do this, please!”

When I’m in front of her, the woman’s lips twist into a cruel smile. “Excellent.” She snaps her fingers and two androids similar to Alizarin appear. They each place a hand on one of my shoulders and lead me away. I try to turn and look back, but the androids give me warning stares.

“Do not attempt to run,” one of them says emotionlessly. “We do not wish to hurt you, but we will do what we must.”

With a sigh, I give up and let them lead me away.

***

It has been days since I’ve been locked in this tiny room, barely allowed a moment to myself. The camera staring down at me from the corner of the ceiling captures my every move. The androids that come in to leer at me don’t help, either. The one I like the least is Brandeis. I would say his bright blue hair is nice, but that would mean paying him a compliment. He absolutely doesn’t deserve it. He takes the most pleasure in torturing me, trying to get information out of me that I simply don’t have. I didn’t know androids could be sadistic, but I always learn something new. Miridis, Brandeis’s right hand, is only a little better. She doesn’t take pleasure in interrogations, but she won’t help me either. Her forest green hair reminds me of times before the start of the zombie apocalypse, a time that the earth may never return to.

I haven’t seen Alizarin since they gave me up to that woman they called Mother and honestly, I’m not sure if I even want to see them. The betrayal cut me deep, especially because I thought they were starting to like me. Maybe they had been stringing me along. Or maybe their feelings hadn’t actually developed enough to know what loyalty was.

Banging on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. “Good afternoon, human!” Brandeis’s voice booms. “I hope you’re ready for a nice chat today.”

I groan loudly, not even bothering to hide my disdain. “I’ve already told you everything I know, which is basically nothing,” I yell, knowing he can hear me.

“Not good enough,” he shouts back. “I know there’s something in that organic brain of yours, and we’ll uncover it sooner or later.”

The door swings open and Miridis strides through.

“I was growing impatient with the irrelevant conversation,” she says, beckoning me forward. I get up off the uncomfortable bed and follow her with Brandeis right on my tail.

They usher me inside the interrogation room, a bare room with cold concrete walls and a single chair in the center. I sit down, not fighting back at all. I had already tried that.

“Now, human -“

“My name is Tess.”

“You will tell us what you know about us,” Brandeis continues as if I didn’t say anything.

“I have already told you. All I know is that you are androids. That’s it.”

“Alizarin really didn’t tell you much?” Miridis asks, a tinge of curiosity in her voice.

“They really didn’t. They told me there were many others and that you’re studying humans and zombies. That’s all.”

“I don’t believe you,” Brandeis cracks his knuckles menacingly. The motion is distracting and I can’t help but wonder if androids actually need to crack their joints or not.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you believe me. That’s the truth. It’s not my fault if you choose to be so dense that you don’t even accept the truth.”

I barely have a second to regret that jab before Brandeis gets right in my face. My head painfully whips to the side as he slaps me, hard enough that I can already taste blood in my mouth.

“Not all of us understand sarcasm or insults, human, but I do.” His voice is quiet, making me more nervous than his yelling. “And I am tired of you talking back. I am tired of asking you questions and not getting the answers I seek.” He punctuates each sentence with another slap.

I don’t cry out in pain. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my reactions. I just stare to the side, not meeting his eyes.

Miridis watches impassively, no sympathy or anything in her expression. She merely looks bored.

When I don’t say anything, Brandeis stands up straight, glaring down at me.

"Listen here, human. I can make sure that you never see your precious sun again," he snarls. "You can discover firsthand what we do to humans here, and what kind of experiments we run." As he talks, he grabs my wrist, clamping down with all his fingers. His grip is too tight for comfort and he knows it. A pathetic way to threaten me with breaking my wrist or something. I continue to stare off into the distance and ignore him and the pain as he taunts me.

When he realizes that his words aren't really having an effect, Brandeis releases me and sighs, taking a step back.

“Do you think that your dear Alizarin is going to come save you?”

My eyes widen, but I don’t look up.

“Did you think they actually cared for you? All they wanted was to learn about humans, and you were probably a very convenient source of information. That’s all.”

I press my lips together, trying to hold in a retort. Who did he think he was, saying stuff like that?

The next pointed jab doesn’t come. Instead, I glance at Brandeis to see him regarding me with mild amusement.

“How would you like to see your darling Alizarin?“

Despite myself, my eyes snap to the door and just minutes later, I watch them walk in. They meet my eyes only briefly before looking away.

“Well hello, Alizarin, how is everything going today?”

They shrug. “Everything is running smoothly, as it should.“ Their voice is so cold, sounding more distant than the first time we met.

Miridis finally looks interested. “Have you been outside the door this whole time?“

“Of course not. I have been watching on the camera overhead.“

“Is that so? And did you like what you saw?“ Brandeis grins.

“Have you always been using such a crude interrogation method?“ asks Alizarin.

Brandeis just laughs. “It’s my favorite kind.” Then he turns to me, just as I thought he had forgotten me. My eyes have not left Alizarin’s face even though they barely spared me a glance since they walked in the room. “We were just having a friendly chat, weren’t we, human? In fact, we were talking about you,” he continues to address Alizarin while sneering at me.

“I am aware. I could hear some of your words over the camera. I feel like you had more to say, Brandeis.“

“Not much more, actually. I just wanted to ask you something in person. Where do your loyalties lie?“

“I am loyal to Mother, of course.”

Their matter-of-fact tone, more than their words, cut me deep.

Brandeis turns to me with a wide, disgusting grin on his face.

Before he can say anything, I scream, “Enough! I get it already, okay? Just stop! This is the worst feeling I’ve ever felt, so I hope you’re happy.”

“So you’ll admit what more you know?”

“I know nothing!” I relish in crushing the hope in Brandeis’s voice, the only pleasure I can find right now. “How many times must I repeat it before it gets through your stupid mechanical skull?”

He backhands me harshly and I can feel the indents of his knuckles in my cheek. The sharp pain is enough to start the waterworks, and I openly sob, looking away towards the wall.

“Your interrogation method seems rather ineffective. Are you sure you’re happy with that?” Alizarin comments, and I tune everything out.

“Sure am. Allow me to demonstrate once more,” he says, raising his hand again.

The blow doesn’t come, and I rub my eyes and look to see Alizarin easily overpower Brandeis, pinning him to the ground.

“Sorry, brother, but your methods are awful,” they snarl, finally showing some emotion. “I won’t forgive you for hurting her.”

“Alizarin, what are you—“

They sharply smack a spot between his shoulder blades, and he instantly powers off, bright blue eyes dimming to a dull, lifeless gray. Standing upright, they stare right at Miridis. She looks down at Brandeis’s unconscious form and back up to Alizarin.

“...I would much prefer to avoid getting in the way of anything,” she says, putting her hands up. “Do as you like.”

“Thank you.”

Alizarin steps forward and kneels in front of me, gently wiping the tears off my cheeks. “I am so sorry, Tess. I would have come sooner, but then Mother would have suspected something. I’m so sorry in general.” Their red eyes shine like always, alleviating my fears.

I give a watery smile, raising my hands to keep theirs on my cheeks as long as possible. “Why are you apologizing?” I tease gently. “Really I’m just glad you don’t actually feel nothing for me.”

“Truth be told, I am not entirely sure what I feel for you. When I had to watch Brandeis hurt you and tell you that I was using you, I wanted to simply beat him down.”

“And you did,” I giggle, watching them tenderly caress my hurt wrist, their touch so much gentler than Brandeis's.

“When I watched you get physically hurt, my inner circuits felt so strange. Like they prickled and sparked in uncomfortable ways. It felt...”

“Painful?” I guess.

“That must be it. I’ve never felt such things before.”

“Emotions are complicated,” I say, reaching out to them with my uninjured hand. They lean forward, resting their cheek on my palm. “But that’s why I’m here to help you through them. And I want to be the only human you experience things with.”

“I’d like that too,” they reply with a sweet smile.

“Alizarin.”

We both jolt and look to Miridis. God, I forgot she was even there. She has an odd look in her deep green eyes.

“Alizarin, are you happy?”

They smile again. “This human makes me happy, sister.”

She nods slowly. “I never thought I’d see my sibling smile, yet they do it so easily around you, human Tess. I would like to help you both.”

“Thank you, Miridis. If you would be so kind as to take care of the cameras and help with a diversion?”

“My pleasure.”

Alizarin gathers me in their arms and with a nod to Miridis, we leave the room. I cling onto their shoulders as they run through the halls at speeds much faster than a human could achieve. We pass by a few androids who seems surprised to see us but quickly regain composure and give chase, but Alizarin manages to lose them all in the underground maze of hallways.

Before long, they bring me outside the facility, and I squint at the harsh light.

“I don’t think we’re being followed anymore,” I say, “so you can put me down now, Alizarin.”

They don’t say anything for a moment, then they quietly say, “Is it strange that I do not want to?“

“Not at all. Just as long as you don’t mind carrying me longer. I’m not heavy, am I?”

Alizarin shakes their head. “You’re as light as a feather.”

“Oh my gosh, an idiom?” I beam, squeezing their shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, you learn so quickly.”

They smile softly and continue walking with me in their arms.

After some silence, I mumble, “So you don’t actually hate me, right?“

Alizarin nearly trips over nothing. “Why would you say such a thing?“

I pause, thinking about Brandeis and the harsh things he said to me. As much as I hated to admit it, his words really did affect me. And as much as I hated to admit it, part of me doubted Alizarin’s affections toward me.

“Yesterday during an interrogation, Brandeis said something about you being reprogrammed to forget me. Or if you did still know who I was, you would come to despise me for things that I never did.” The words come spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them, a rambling torrential downpour. “I just can’t get over it, I guess. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.” I press my lips together, willing them to be still.

Alizarin doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I am afraid to look up and see their expression, so I don’t. I bury my face in their chest and shut my eyes.

“Tess.”

My eyes snap open and look up. They’re staring straight ahead.

“While it is true that Mother tried her methods on me, none of them actually worked. At one point, the most I forgot was your name. Just losing that small amount of information about you hurt me so much. So I pictured your face and it all came back to me. She was never able to erase you fully from my mind. And I would never let her.”

“Aliz...”

“I had to pretend to be back to the way I was before I met you and it felt so strange. I can barely remember what I was before you. And...I don’t want to remember.”

I stay silent, thinking that they might have more to say.

“I know that when we met, I wasn’t keen on having a companion. But I have seen the error of my ways. Tess, please stay with me.”

Embarrassed, I hide my face against their chest again. “You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me,” I say, lightly teasing. “But gods above, Aliz, that sounded like a proposal.”

“Hmm?” They sound concerned. “Tess, your body temperature just spiked. Are you well?”

“I-I’m fine -“

“And I do not know what a proposal is,” they say, carefully pronouncing the new word. “Is it some sort of human ritual?”

I groaned, dreading the inevitable and awkward explanation to come. “I really don’t want to get into it now, okay? How about I explain later?”

They smile down at me cheerfully as they gracefully move over the uneven forest floor. “As you wish, Tess. Take your time.”

I smile back before resting my head back on their chest. “I think I will. And right now, I feel like we have all the time in the world.”

#exophilia #monster partner #android #android partner #my writing #sfw #i almost called them datemate bc it's cute but idk #anyway #this is a longer one!#i cannot believe it ended up being this long!!#i had so much fun writing it tbh #hope you like it #<3 #pls lmk if you like~

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itsletstalkgames · 5 years

Text

Let’s Talk Resident Evil 2 (Remake)

“If you see one of those things-uniform or not-you do not hesitate. You take it out, or you run.”

The zombie apocalypse is something everyone thinks about at least one point in their lives. Then there’s those people who bring that idea to life, and one of those products is Resident Evil 2. This game was first released back in 1998, but recently remade from the ground up for PS4, Xbox One, and PC. I’m one of those few that never experienced the original, even though I have a console (N64) that can play it. I never decided to grab it because I’m not a huge horror fan, but I became very intrigued when the remake was revealed at E3 2018. A week after launch I decided to buy it on PS4 and try it out, but didn’t finish it until recently, so I’m gonna talk about it now. Bear with me as I am not a great writer, but let’s dive right in.

Main Story and Game-play

Resident Evil 2 is an action, survival horror game with puzzles here and there. The game confines you into small areas with limited supplies, making you explore your surroundings to progress while avoiding death by the numerous zombies littered about the areas. Plot is pretty straight forward at first: survive and find your way out of the zombie infested city known as Raccoon City. Overtime the game explores how the outbreak happened and who is responsible, but I won’t discuss that here as I’ll try to make this as spoiler-free as I can. There are two main characters in this game: Leon S. Kennedy and Claire Redfield. Leon is a rookie cop who recently got enlisted to the Raccoon City Police Department, but never gets orders for his first assignment. He decides to head into the city to see what is wrong. Claire is a college student who is looking for her brother Chris, who was last seen at the Raccoon City Police Station. The two meet at a zombie infested gas station, where they experience the horror of the outbreak first hand. While narrowly escaping death, the two head to Raccoon City to find answers on what is going on. After getting separated in the city, they decide to go to the Raccoon City Police Department (I’m gonna call it RPD from here on out) hoping for survivors. When you arrive (as one of the characters) you realize there’s no one left and you have to find your way out before you’re somebody’s dinner.

Now let’s talk about game-play. As I said before this game is an action survival horror game with puzzles thrown in, and it does a really good job. The horror aspect is spot on. The zombies are so well detailed they feel like people with lives before they were turned, unlike past zombie games I have played. The move around with such realism, sometimes staggering, making it seem like they’re avoiding your attacks, when they’re actually just moving around. They are literal sponges though, taking a lot of bullets before getting taken down, and even then sometimes they’ll play dead and ruin your time later. This mechanic gives the whole horror aspect a lot more, well, horror. You’ll shoot a zombie to the ground and then go into another room. When you come back, the body is gone, and it gives you adrenaline thinking like, “Oh crap where is it now”, as in my experience the zombies usually hide when they come back to life-sometimes in plain sight-and will take a nibble out if your nice fleshy shoulder. The lighting is amazing. Lots of dimly lit places giving you a horror vibe that you’re alone and helpless in this world of man eating zombies. In these hallways and rooms you carry a flashlight, which gives you a limited amount of sight. The music sets the tone of the game, only showing up when you are in danger

Throughout the game you’ll explore the police station, unlocking rooms and grabbing new weapons, ammo, health items, and key items to help you progress throughout the station and later different areas. The police station in my opinion is where the meat of the game-play is. Exploring a station with puzzles that have intertwining solutions, where solving one puzzle will give you an item to solve another puzzle, and so on and so forth. After a while you’ll feel that you have conquered the police station. The best part is that the game knows this and puts your knowledge to the test by sending a big and menacing enemy at you: The Tyrant. This unstoppable foe will hunt you down throughout your time at the police station right before you leave it, Doing unbelievable damage with just a punch. At this point you’re gonna have to change your style of play, with now an unkillable enemy on your tail, the game gives you a sense of urgency to find out how to escape the station once and for all. Ways you can tell when the Tyrant is nearby is his loud footsteps. If you hear his footsteps he is probably a room or two over, which at times has scared the crap out of me. Sometimes he’ll appear without warning and sock you right in the face. The tyrant is also attracted by any noises you make. If you shoot a gun or get hurt from a nasty zombie bite, the tyrant will know where you are and immediately head over to the location where the noise happened. If that scenario happens-and it will-the best you can do is leave that area before he gets there. You can avoid him by stunning him with gunshots or sub weapons, or hiding in “safe rooms”. These rooms are basically rooms where no enemies will go, giving you a breather from the games constant action.

One of the few problems I have with this game is the characters. This game wants you to feel alone and helpless. So when the game introduces more characters, I want to know who and what their motives are. The game doesn’t really tell me the backstories of these characters, killing most of them off before they start to open up the personalities of these characters. With Leon and Claire the game gives you only the necessary things you need to know, while throughout the game expanding their personalities at least a little bit. It doesn’t do that with most of the other characters which I found disappointing, as some characters were really interesting, then just killed off (like game of thrones? I don’t know I haven’t watched game of thrones yet). To me this is really minor to the game being the game it is but still a gripe I have with it nonetheless.

After beating the game the first time you’ll unlock the “second run” for the other character. I decided to play through the game as Claire and the did the second run as Leon. This run takes place during your run as the first character, so in this case there were subtle hints littered throughout areas that Claire was there. There were a few problems though. Some puzzles I solved as Claire were completely untouched when I played the second run. I understand that this will ruin the second run if these puzzles were already solved, but they could try to make different ones just to make things fresh. Second run switched items around and enemy placement around, also since you played the game already and know your way around the map, the game will send the Tyrant at you minutes after you first enter the police station. The game also gives you a new starting weapon to deal with the difficulty rise that the second run gives you. Overall the second run was different enough for it to be fresh, but is towards the end just like the first run in terms of puzzles and enemy placement.

Extra Modes

The last thing I’ll touch on is the extra modes, each just kind of an aggressive escape sequence. There are 6 in total, 3 being unlocked from the start and the other 3 being unlocked after specific requirements. I’ll start with the 3 you do get. These 3 modes are called the “Ghost Survivors”, you play as a certain character in the main story that you meet and it's a what if scenario that they survive. I think it’s really cool that they added this little feature, as it was something I thought about when I met these characters. There’s one more ghost survivor that you unlock after you beat all 3 of the others and this one is a little different. Instead of getting from point A to point B you stay confined in one area and have to kill a certain amount of enemies to win. Like I said before I’m being very vague with characters so I don’t spoil anything.

The last two extras are tied to the main story and actually happen. Well, one of them. “The 4th Survivor” is unlocked after you beat the second run with either character. It follows a soldier by the code-name of “Hunk” who is trying to meet his extraction point to leave raccoon city. This mode is like the ghost survivors but is different in a way where you don’t get more items to progress, what you have is what you have and you don’t get anymore things. It’s a thrilling adrenaline filling mode that challenges you to your limit. After beating this mode you unlock the “joke” mode of this game: “The Tofu Survivor”. Yes you heard that right, you play as a giant block of tofu. It’s the same as the 4th survivor except you only start out with combat knives instead of having guns, and obviously you’re a giant block of tofu. When you beat this mode you unlock different flavors of tofu that’ll give you different load outs, but all in all it’s the same experience and I laughed while watching my piece of tofu getting eaten by zombies.

Conclusion

Resident Evil 2 excels at making you feel alone and helpless in the zombie infested place of Raccoon City. It’s atmosphere is rich and terrifying, and its game play is nice and solid. The plot is not the best but the mystery it gives you makes you hungry for more on what happened in this world. Characters are vague when it comes to personality and the second run was a lot less unique than I wanted though. This is a horror game, and one of the best I’ve played to this day. I played around 25 hours in total with both main story runs and all the extra modes you get, and had an amazing time. If you like horror, you’re going to like this game. And even if you don’t like horror, maybe this’ll be the game that’ll help you turn. It’s a great game I’m glad I chose to experience.

How can it be better?

As I said before they don’t go in depth with some characters since they get killed off. Maybe the best way to approach this problem I have is to make use of the files that are littered throughout the game and make it so they’re like other characters being suspicious of said character or the character writing a memo about what they’ve done or just something around those lines. Now let’s move to the tyrant. he would be way more of a menace if he was “killable”. what do i mean by that? Why he just plays dead like some zombies do. You shoot this menace down and he’ll play dead, you walk away feeling way more relaxed and victorious, only to hear him walking around the station a minute or two later and bursting into the room you’re currently in. This solves the problem of having no time at all to do puzzles without the tyrant bursting in and interrupting your progress, and a nice touch would be going to where the dead body was and not seeing it there cues some kind of music to play or even just one shrill sounding chord to add impact to the tyrant still being alive. Another minor change I would've liked is making the starting weapon you get in the second be a little more useful later on. the only reason i kept it over the original starting weapon is because you can’t find normal handgun ammo anymore as they replace it with the special ammo you use for the new starting weapon. the new starting weapon also doesn’t get upgrades like every other weapon. so it becomes a little obsolete near the end and I’d rather use the original starting weapon when the game gave me gunpowder, because combining gunpowder makes handgun ammo and not the special handgun ammo, which I found bizarre. But that’s enough rambling. Thanks for listening to me talk Resident Evil 2

Be sure to comment what games you wanna see me rant about next!

#resident evil 2 #tyrant #claire redfield #leon kennedy #g virus #ps4

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shellheadtmarc · 5 years

Text

| BASIC INFO

Classic Marvel / 616-Based.

Tony Stark was still in the early stages of his career as Iron Man, still walking a fine line between his public identity as Anthony Stark, billionaire industrialist whom the US government claimed left them in a lurch with his ceasing of the production of the tools of war for more humanitarian technological developments, and that of the superhero in the armored suit, posing as his own bodyguard to keep those he held close safe. His heart had been healed with an experimental transplant of synthetic tissue so he no longer needed the chestplate of the armor to keep him alive, leaving him to enjoy his time as the Golden Avenger, rather than finding himself in desperate situations where the depletion of its electrical charge would leave him dead in the water: Literally.

Vault Tec, the societal preservation juggernaut building vaults all across the country with the claims to being prepared for the possible onset of total nuclear destruction stemming from the Great War, would have loved for a mind like his to join their team, unaware that Tony and Iron Man were one and the same. And while he had no problem turning them down on multiple occasions, citing, “I like being my own boss,” as his reasoning, they assumed that if they couldn’t have his brain to design for them, they certainly had a place in one of the vaults - he just needed a little convincing.

He eventually agreed to a tour of Vault 76, nestled in the heart of Appalachia, if only to get them off his back. He had his fingers in his own failsafes if it came to nuclear war, and he’d been working with both his contacts within the US government and with the Avengers in attempt to finally diffuse the situation, thinking that a decade was more than enough for the Great War to drag on. Early the morning of October 23, 2077, Tony showed up outside of the giant gear door of the vault, attache case in hand, and started his tour.

When he reemerged from the vault, it was twenty five years later.

While inside, the bombs had dropped, the future residents had arrived, and the door had sealed, and that, as they say, had been that. Anger at being trapped, unable to assist on the surface, turned to acceptance, which turned to determination, and he whiled away his time designing on paper modifications and advancements for the Iron Man (his attache case had mysteriously disappeared at some point), along with being shoved into job in the vault’s diner which he in no way was at all suited for (and didn’t matter, because the assigned jobs were the assigned jobs and it was hell on earth to get moved anywhere else). Older, a little crankier, and a little wiser with more grey in his hair and growing (in his opinion) less pretty by the day, Reclamation Day finally arrived, and he was actually one of the first of the vault dwellers to leave the vault, not only because being cooped up underground hadn’t suited him at all, but also because no one knew what they were going to be walking into, and he was, in many ways, more prepared to take on those unknowns than some of the others he’d been locked down in the vault with.

Originally his first order of business had been to collect what he needed to rebuild the Iron Man - twenty five years wasn’t so long a time that all the infrastructure would have completely broken down - but after seeing the aftermath of the bombs, and wandering into Flatwoods in a bit of a daze, that quickly shifted into something else entirely. The world hadn’t known it, but he was Iron Man with or without the Red and Gold.

| FACTIONS

Tony is a member of the Responders, first and foremost. He found out about them in Flatwoods, completed their training in Morgantown, and believes in the cause they were promoting with regards to helping survivors (and fellow dwellers in a tight spot) and looking for both a vaccination and a stop to the Scorched disease. He’s also taken the next step and also completed Fire Breather training in Charlestown, figuring he, more than most, is especially suited to being the front line defense against the Scorched, He just sees it as an extension of the kind of team efforts he made with the Avengers. He’s a staunch supporter of both groups (even if the Fire Breathers are a faction within the Responders), and he does his part with keeping supply caches filled and divvying his own medical and emergency supplies among the outposts, keeping himself at the bare minimum to make sure others don’t run low. He’s mobile enough, in his opinion, that he can scavenge what he needs.

While there’s no sign of an active Brotherhood of Steel base left in the parts of the West Virginian wasteland he’s personally roamed, he tends to keep his eyes open for any indication they may still be around. He’s not looking to join, but he he’s gotten more than a few mixed messages left behind from those that have come before and did see them in person, and it makes him incredibly uneasy. He also thinks it would be a great idea to reclaim their old posts from the Scorched and ghouls that have otherwise overrun them, simply because they’re well fortified and supply-laden.

As far as the Enclave goes, it’s confirmed a lot of suspicions he’d had before the war - explained everything, including the government fleeing to an offshore oil rig. He doesn’t trust MODUS, he doesn’t trust those that would back the plays of what’s left of the Enclave, but they’ve got the knowledge of how to get into the nuclear silos, they’ve got the more advanced tech, and they’ve got eyes and ears on the wasteland. He doesn’t support the cause, but he’ll pretend he does as long as he needs to until he figures out his play to shut them down.

The Free States are gone, but he can’t imagine support for the cause itself is completely dead. He remembers the scandal from before the war, but it hadn’t, to him, seemed like that big of a deal at the time. And their research into stopping the Scorched beasts is damned near invaluable.

| BASE

Tony has a semi-permanent base located south of Helvetia and east of Sutton, putting him within easy range of several different places, including the Enclave bunker at Whitesprings. It has about the level of comfort and development you’d expect with him having a bit of free time and putting in some elbow grease, and there’s a workshop open to fellow Responders/wanderers with a place to crash, and since he’s in and out so often without staying for very long, he works on a barter system for those that can afford to do so: Caps aren’t required, but if a person stops in and uses the workbenches and tools or takes a tato or three, a little sprucing up in the garden is appreciated, or repairing anything that needs it is especially welcome. As are any extra supplies, but not required.

He really has gotten good at scavenging what he needs.

It’s easy to find: His place is a bright spot of electric light along a long stretch of dark two lane blacktop following the river.

Eventually he may move his base, demolish and start over somewhere else, but with how he ping pongs around the wasteland, it’s a good central point that offers him a hub to expand outward from.

| EQUIPMENT

Tony’s favored weapons are a hardened sniper rifle (extra and unneeded .308 is always welcome) and a mole miner’s claw gauntlet picked up during a trip to the ash piles. It’s been modified for three claws as opposed to two. Other weapons frequently used are a crossbow (making his own ammunition is startling easy and there are innumerable ways to tinker with it, both shaft and head, to get some pretty nasty damage out of a fairly simple weapon), and a tesla rifle.

One day he’ll actually work on those designs for a new Iron Man suit, but for now he’s making do with T-60 and X-01 power armor, despite his griping that it’s slow, clunky, and mass-produced.

| MISC

Tony, for the most part, prefers to travel alone. He’s reckless, he tends to delve in the dark mines turned tombs and ghoul-filled prewar buildings. And if he’s the only one he’s responsible for, it makes doing so much, much easier.

He doesn’t eat Fancy Lad Snack Cakes. He didn’t eat them before the war. He’s more than always willing to trade those off for something else.

He can most frequently be found in the southern parts of WV, from Charlestown and beyond. The cranberry bogs are an especially good place to look.

He lives a double life, as a mole inside the Enclave bunker and Whitesprings. He has no intentions of furthering their agenda, and can and will self-sabotage as it becomes possible, but for the moment he needs their resources.

Tony, as of the opening of Vault 76, is fifty-two years old (taking into account 616′s age retcon). Still plenty spry to do what he feels he needs to do, but tempered enough with age that he’s not quite as reckless as he was before the bombs. Older, grayer, but still very recognizable for anyone alive before the bombs fell. He tends to scavenge for reading glasses and has started the process of grinding his own lenses: The vault lighting was not kind to the ol’ peepers, and age hasn’t been either, so fine detail these days takes a little extra help.

It’s also taken some time to get back up to speed physically. He didn’t slouch in the vault, there was a gym and he made use of it, but some of his finer technique was impossible to replicate without his training room back in his long-ago personal lab, so he’s made a conscious effort to push himself as much as he dares (he doesn’t know how the tissue grafted to his heart is going to hold out with age) to get himself back to where he thinks he should be.

#⚛ (program: fo76) / but i still have my secret weapon this my brave and hopeful heart #long post #long post for ts #// i warned y'all it was long #// so pls blacklist as needed

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kimjongdaely · 6 years

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Exodauntia [Chapter 13]

Vampire!AU

Pairing: Chen x Reader

Warnings: mention of blood, violence, and sexual situations.

Summary: You just wanted to help. But you accidentally saved someone you shouldn’t have, and now you’re running for your life while trying to help the person you saved execute his revenge plan, plummeting into a foreign world you never knew existed.

Audiobook + Prologue│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│ Chapter 5│Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8│Chapter 9│Chapter 10│ Chapter 11│Chapter 12│Chapter 13│Epilogue

The room is deadly silent.

The initial shock still hasn’t worn down, and the smile on Yixing’s face is growing steadily more unsettling.

Baekhyun speaks first with a choked, “What?”

Yixing’s smile seems permanent. It’s gentle, kind and yet it makes your stomach twist into knots. “I Turned you.” He repeats.

“I don’t understand.” Jongdae speaks then, frowning. “A vampire can only be Turned by being bitten by another Pureblood. We weren’t bitten.”

“No.” Yixing says slowly, eyes turning to train on Jongdae. “But despite that, here you are, a Pureblood yourself, isn’t that right?”

You watch him gulp, obviously unsure what’s happening.

Yixing takes a step forward, towards you. You see the way Jongdae seems to flinch at the action, moving closer to shield you from any potential danger.

Yixing’s voice is soft when he speaks, “I won’t hurt her. I saved her.”

Your eyes widen, another set of images flash before your eyes, making the room spin and you almost lose your balance.

Jongdae catches you, eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine.” You say shakily, using his form to help steady yourself. You take another look at Yixing, suddenly remembering what had happened after you supposedly died. “You saved me.”

“To an extent, yes.” Yixing nods. “And to an extent, I saved all of you.”

“I’m so fed up with this.” Sehun stands from his seat, throwing a glare towards Yixing as he crosses his arms. “Tell us what happened. Now.”

Yixing merely chuckles, not at all fazed. “Alright, alright.” He clears his throat, his wings drooping a bit in relaxation, the feathers at the bottom brushing the ground. “Let’s start 500 years ago, when you all were in the biggest war of Exodauntia history.”

It’s not like the angels didn’t know about the war. They did. The angels always knew when the humans were fighting—they just chose not to do anything about it. They weren’t supposed meddle with the humans, weren’t allowed to take sides, weren’t allowed to save lives.

Wars were especially hard on Lay. While the others could just avert their eyes, Lay is the angel of healing. He essentially controls life and death, so when a large number of deaths come rolling in—it’s hard for him to simply avert his eyes.

When the war of Exodauntia started, Lay did his job properly. He made sure the dead could find their way to the afterlife, made sure nothing was out of balance.

That’s when he felt a tug.

A strong calling for him that made his wings tingle, urging him to answer.

It turned out to be the prayers of the King and Queen of Exodauntia, a prayer so strong that it actually managed to reach him. Lay felt bad for not answering, especially since he could feel how sincere they were.

He did what he wasn’t supposed to do.

He answered their prayer.

He went to them, and they didn’t even seem shocked to see him. Perhaps they thought it was a dream. Lay asked what they wanted, though he already knew from their prayers.

“Please save our people.”

“I can’t do that.” He said gently, trying to let them understand. “I can’t meddle with life and death.”

“Please.” They begged, eyes glazing over with tears. “We can’t leave this land in the hands of him.”

Him.

Lay knew; of course he knew. He could see everything. He knew Minseok was the one who started the war, who secretly went to neighboring countries to propose his idea of taking over the beautiful and prospering Exodauntia.

He was surprised the King and Queen knew as well. Lay tried to reason with them, telling him that he’s not allowed to. But the King and Queen persisted, their sadness and desperation so prominent he could sense it off them.

“Take our lives.” They said, “in exchange for theirs.”

“You can’t compare a life.” He said. “Every life has a different value, no life is considered greater or lesser than another. I can’t use your life to exchange for others.”

He hoped they would understand. Life and death is a natural cycle, and he can’t meddle with that.

He left them in despair, watching their kingdom and their treasured people die.

There was nothing he could do.

It’s two months later when he watched Minseok step into the throne room, a smile on his face. “Mom, dad.”

The King and Queen seemed to accept their fate, though they did not back down easily. They fought him, but in the end, they could not kill their own son. They were filled with hesitancy, with love but Minseok was not. He did not hesitate like his parents did, and killed them on the spot, right on their thrones.

What a bitter, sad person, Lay thought.

Lay could still hear the voices of the King and Queen, the emotions they felt. It hit him like a freight train, making him double over, the intensity of their emotions so great as they died.

“Please save our people.”

Two lives for a kingdom.

Was it worth it?

It didn’t matter, because Lay had already moved, done something he was forbidden to do.

He saved the souls of those who had died and he Turned them. Not exactly humans, but something greater. For he could not meddle with humans, but once the people become vampires, it becomes a gray, blurred line. A sort of ruleless zone. Vampires are a rare species, a phenomenon that even angels as old as him cannot quite explain. They just somehow came to be, and survived.

It wasn’t an easy task. He couldn’t exactly control his powers, and not only Turned the survivors of Exodauntia into vampires, but the enemy’s forces as well—including Minseok.

In all honesty, Lay could have reversed his mistake, though it would take extra effort that he didn’t have at the moment.

But then he saw a glimpse of the future.

Of a girl who would save all the broken souls.

So Lay left things the way they were, keeping it a secret from the other angels as he went to the human world personally to watch over those he had saved, making sure things went the way they were supposed to.

“Everything turned out the way I saw it would.” Yixing—Lay?—says proudly, his smile growing wider.

“You.” Sehun seethes, narrowing his eyes dangerously on Yixing. “You were the one. You were the one who made us suffer for so long!”

“Sehun!” Chanyeol cries, trying to hold the man down from hurting Yixing, though from the relaxed expression on his face, you suppose Sehun wouldn’t have been able to easily harm him.

“Those who have died were meant to die.” Yixing says, voice a mere whisper. He seems almost pained to say this. “In fact, you were all supposed to die. I’m sorry I meddled, but at the same time I’m not. Things turned out well, better than I expected, in fact.”

He turns to you, his expression softening. “May I speak to you privately?”

Jongdae stiffens, and you see it in the way he stands that he’s still cautious around Yixing. It’s not everyday you realize your friend, who you thought was a vampire, is actually an angel who made you into a vampire in the first place.

But you place a hand over his arm, giving him a soft squeeze before nodding towards Yixing. “Yes.”

Yixing smiles, his dimples showing. He moves first, entering the room next door and you follow.

He gestures for you to close the door, silence ensuing once you do. You don’t know what he wanted to say, and so you stay quiet until he speaks first. You busy yourself by trailing your eyes over the many feathers on his wings, the way they flow so elegantly, so blindingly white.

Yixing clears his throat, and your eyes snap up to his. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank you?” You repeat, frowning in confusion. Why would an angel thank you? “For what?”

“Just for existing.” He says simply, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Your presence means more than you know.”

“I don’t understand.” You cock your head at him, frown deepening.

He chuckles again, taking a step towards you and surprisingly, you don’t flinch, don’t move back. You just let him come closer, and he places a hand over your head, ruffling your hair slightly as if he knew you for ages. And you suppose he did.

“Without you, this would have never happened.” He says gently. “Minseok wouldn’t have died. Jongdae might never have known until he’s killed. Kris will continue to suffer as a decoy.” He pauses, nodding. “Yes, you really made a big difference.”

“I—” You don’t know what to say. Words escape you as you mull over what he just said. You suppose it might be true, though you never thought of yourself that way. You always saw yourself as a burden to the others, being a simple human girl who couldn’t do anything to help. When you offered a plan, you didn’t think anything through, you were terrified. Things just happened to go your way. Luck, you think.

Yixing cocks his head at you, smiling again. “No, it’s not luck.”

You blink, eyes wide and heart fluttering with shock. “How—”

“Sweetie,” he coos, “I can do a lot of things. Knowing what you’re thinking isn’t the most difficult.”

You flush, wondering how much of your thoughts he’s read. Wondering if he knows what you’re thinking of right at this moment because you feel so utterly stupid—

“Hey,” he touches your cheek, making you look at him again. His eyes are soft and gentle, calming like watching a still pond. “What happened was not luck. It was fate. Things were meant to turn out this way. You were the turning point, the source of all the change.” He presses his forehead against yours, the motion incredibly soothing. “Thank you.”

There’s something in his tone that makes you want to cry. You find yourself asking quietly, “Are you leaving?”

“Yes.” He answers. “My job here is done.”

His wings expand, stretching to their full width and they’re magnificent. A sight you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

“I’m sorry, Yixing.” You blurt out, suddenly feeling guilty. “At first…I was suspicious of—”

“I know about that.” Yixing chuckles. “I can read minds, remember?”

Another wave of shock hits you. You feel so embarrassed and guilty. He knew you were suspicious of him but didn’t say anything. When you think about it now, he was warning you. He was trying to help you and yet you accused him of being the traitor.

Now you just feel awful.

“Don’t look so sad.” Yixing grins, poking your nose. “Part of me led you to think of me that way. I should also take part of the blame. But everything’s over now, so don’t worry about it.”

“Wait.” You pull on his arm, preventing him from moving. “One more thing. Thank you.” You say frantically. “Thank you for everything. For watching over Jongdae, for watching over me. For saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.” Yixing leans down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I will continue to watch over all of you. I’m not really leaving.”

But it feels like he is. You don’t know him well, don’t know him at all, really—you just found out he’s an angel, after all—but you find tears welling up in your eyes as you hold onto him like your life depends on it.

“Silly child.” Yixing lets out a soft laugh, trying to pry your fingers off of him. “There’s no need to be sad. I don’t belong here, and I must go back now. You have a long, long life ahead of you. It might be strange and scary, but you’re not alone.” His words are oddly comforting. “Please take care of Jongdae. He’s the most hurt out of everyone.”

He flaps his wings, the wind drying your eyes and making them water even more. You use your hands to block the wind from your face, but you realize too late that it gave Yixing the chance to leave. When the wind dies down, the room is empty.

You stand there for another minute, staring at the empty room, at the spot where Yixing just stood. A single feather is left, a pure white feather on the ground. You pick it up, holding it close as you make your way out.

Jongdae springs up the second he sees you, eyes wide with uncertainty. “Are you okay?”

You nod, “I’m fine. He left.”

“Left?” Baekhyun repeats, standing as well. “What do you mean he left?”

“He went back to where he came from.” You answer, the only thing you can say. You don’t even know where he went, just that he’s probably not coming back.

But he’s always here, watching over you. Your guardian angel. That thought brings you comfort.

You make your way to Jongdae, seeing his worried gaze. You don’t think when you throw your arms around him, earning a surprised gasp. He hugs you back nonetheless, holding you close as if he still can’t believe you’re alive.

“Everything’s okay now.” You tell him quietly. “Everything’s over.”

There’s a sob as he squeezes you tighter.

Previous Chapter│Epilogue

Exodauntia Mini Masterlist

A/N: Next chap is the last! I can’t believe it’s actually happening. It’s ending! 😱 Please tell me what you thought! Are you confused about anything? Want clarification? I’m not sure if I explained things properly.

Tags: @loser-dot-com @lis-redfox @jjaeminnie @baekfanapleintemps

Tell me if you want to be tagged!

©kimjongdaely

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rapeculturerealities · 6 years

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Amber Tamblyn’s new book Any Man imagines a vicious upside down world, where men are preyed upon by a female serial rapist. But the book transcends the gimmick of the experiment and digs deeper into our social psyche, cultural biases, and dark obsessions.

Its characters are bizarro versions of real-life counterparts—a Nancy Grace-like talk show host shames male victims. One chapter follows the Twitter wars over the case, quoting celebrities and journalists as they join in the myth-making of the female rapist and judge the men. The books plays with genre and form, giving it a breathless, reckless feeling—a commentary on our culture of pain, violence, rape, and obsession with crime.

Any Man isn’t Tamblyn’s first journey into darkness. Her poetry collection Dark Sparkler examines the lives and tragic deaths of actresses. Tamblyn also works with Time’s Up, a legal defense fund for victims of sexual assault, and is a vocal advocate for victims of rape and assault.

I spoke with Tamblyn about the new book, cultural myths, obsessions, and crime.

***

The Rumpus: I’d love to hear about the genesis of this book.

Amber Tamblyn: The genesis began with the idea of the perspective of female voices feeling very marginalized and not really explored. And so it started with this small inkling of what would a female protagonist who is extremely violent look like, whose violence is not coming from a place of retribution or revenge, as most depictions are—think of the movie Monster—women getting back at their Johns or retaliation of that nature. And I was trying to think of the last time I’d seen a story about the pathology of a woman that just felt truly, truly dangerous and almost sociopathic.

And so that’s really where it began. And then, as I think with most of the work that I like to do, I try to create empathy in spaces where I don’t think it exists or where empathetic subject matter has been desensitized. So the ultimate objective of the book then started to turn into how to sensitize a topic that has otherwise been desensitized and sort of become taboo in a certain way, sadly.

Rumpus: You’re talking about male rape victims, then, specifically.

Tamblyn: I’m talking about sexual assault and rape culture in general. The conversations around it are desensitized.

Rumpus: It is interesting that you talked about wanting a truly violent, sociopathic female character because Maude, the rapist, is so present in the book, but she doesn’t really have a voice until the very, very end (which was terrifying, by the way). How did you decide to use male voices to narrate the book?

Tamblyn: The book, for me, was a multi-question narrative, so it had multiple questions it posed, or is attempting to pose—many thoughts and ideas and questions all at once. And, while the book is about really hearing the subject matter and the personal sides of stories of sexual assault and those experiences, it is also very much about the objectification of those stories. And so, in that way, I think it was really important to make a lot of the chapters extremely polarizing from each other so that one minute you’re inside someone’s head in the most intimate, difficult space they occupy and then the next moment you’re completely outside of them, never even getting to know who they are. Or only learning who they are through the media, through this sort of veracious, crazy, wild, manipulative media.

Another aspect of it is just I really wanted to explore the mythologizing of women. And the only way to mythologize Maude was to make her untouchable, to make her exist only in the minds of everyone but her. So that it was suddenly not even really about who this woman was anymore, but really it just becomes about what everyone thinks of her and what everyone turns her into, virtually anthropomorphizing her in a certain way.

Rumpus: I read your book right after reading I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, and afterward, I was listening to the audiobook, and while listening to the audiobook, the police caught the Golden State Killer. So I was reading your book, while watching, in tandem, the mythologizing of this murderer.

The juxtaposition of how you write about Maude and how the media was covering the Golden State Killer was eerie. In your book Maude gets the male treatment, almost. She gets that mythology where nobody can chalk it up to her having postpartum depression or to her sad abused life. Women so rarely get to be monsters.

Tamblyn: I think that’s the parallel for women when we’re not their murderers. I think that that, to me, is the statement. But that is kind of an amazing thing to be able to be reading those books back to back and see those two parallels.

It is true. We mythologize.

That’s what was so interesting to me about Michelle Wolf and the White House Correspondents’ dinner. I think to everybody else, she really just called the monster for what it was, which was everyone who was sitting in front of her. And she was saying, “This guy sells your book. This guy makes you great. Makes you get good ratings. Don’t act like you don’t like him.” And I just think that that was the harder thing to do in the room, and she fucking did it, which was pretty powerful.

Rumpus: You have sections in you book like that, where you call out our culture for benefiting from the pain of others. It made me wonder about this kind of interplay with violence in American culture and darkness. We feed off of it. It pays our bills. I’ve written about female violence. I got paid for it.

So there is this kind of like parasitic culture of it, which you call out so well, but there’s also like… We are also deeply fascinated. You’ve written about violence before, in Dark Sparkler, where you looked at the lives of actresses who died tragically. So, I wondered, what draws you to violence as a topic?

Tamblyn: Well, I think violence is antithetical to the mainstream narrative of womanhood, which is that we are nurturing, all of us, and as if being a nurturer is not one of the most inherently violent experiences you can have, as if childbirth is not one of the most inherently violent experience any woman will have. And the feelings that come with that, the hormones, the sense of the wildness that it places you in.

I think there are different types of violence that are explored throughout many of my narratives, but I just, for me I always just look at how, no matter how far we go with being able to expand our truth about our experiences, they always seem to be reclaimed—or not reclaimed, but just claimed by anyone but us. Whether that’s from a reviewer badly reviewing a film about a woman, directed by a woman, anything to do with the creative arts, all the way over to books by women, all the way over to suddenly all the media now wants to talk about backlashes and witch hunts and how it’s gone too far. Even that is its own form of oppression.

And those are people who were just banging our doors down, chomping at the bit to get any kind of information that they can about the men who have destroyed our lives, and I see all of it.

Rumpus: You see it from a unique perspective, I think, because you’ve worked in so many art forms—acting, and you’ve written plays, poetry, fiction—and you also do a lot of activism. So you’re seeing this violence and rape culture from so many perspectives, and because of your acting you’ve also been the object of the media monster. And so you’ve been in it, you’ve seen it up close.

Tamblyn: The more macro message of the book is just that we have to look at it whether it’s our job or not, whether we’re reporters, whether we work at universities where sexual assault happens, whether we are, ourselves, survivors. We have to look at how we contribute, both proactively and passively, to rape culture. And it really has become a culture, and I myself am guilty of it. I mean, that’s part of it. It’s like sometimes that’s all people know how to do, is just tweet about how angry they are, and they actually don’t know how to do anything else. It feels like such a big problem that it seems almost untouchable and that’s really scary.

But you know, some of these narratives that I took, that I shaped for the different men in the book, were literally ripped out of the headlines of stories you hear all the time. Like the main character, Donald, wakes up behind a dumpster, and his story’s very similar to Jane Doe in the Brock Turner case.

I remember when my husband read the book, and he’s like, “There’s just one part that seems really not believable to me,” and I said, “What’s that?” And he said, “It’s the section about show when the commentators are saying all this crazy stuff about the male victims making better choices. About them being drunk, and how this is about the bad decisions people make.” And I told him, I said, “I pulled that almost verbatim off of a Nancy Grace segment.”

I just switched the genders, the pronouns.

Rumpus: I have watched a lot of Nancy Grace, so I recognized it when I read that section. But to see it written out made it so much more painful. So much more bizarre. Just the flip of genre from TV to prose heightened the absurdity.

Tamblyn: For my husband, I had to tell him that this is actually our experience on the regular. And he couldn’t believe that.

For me at least, this is not a book about taking away the pains and the experiences of women. This is about re-understanding what it means to be any gender, to be anyone, to identify as anything, and to have struggled through sexual abuse. Period. And that we must find broader ways to understand each other and have the difficult conversations in order to set real lasting and larger change, and sometimes that comes in the form of hearing old stories in new ways.

Rumpus: This is an old story told in a new way. And part of the new way is the structure of the book, which plays with form and genre. Some parts feel like poetry; others are tweets. Did being a poet play a part in your thinking about the structure of the book?

Tamblyn: I think so. I wrote the first couple chapters a year ago when I was first thinking about it, and in a more narrative fiction way, and I was bored as a writer. And my editor at that time, who was so wonderful, sort of planted the seed in my head—Calvert Morgan, who published Dark Sparkler. Cal came to me and said, “You need to write a novel.” And I had never thought about it before that moment.

And you know, and he was the one that said to me—I’ll never forget it—over lunch, he said, “If you’re bored while you’re writing it, then believe me, we’re bored reading it.” And I just thought that was such a great way to think about it, and he’s like, “You need to just write what you are and experience that, because a lot of people don’t have that poetic voice, and so just use it.” And I really went back and I just started to write the way I actually wanted to write, and that’s sort of how Any Man was born. I didn’t ask myself what I thought a novel should sound like.

#Any Man #Tamblyn #books #sexism #misogyny

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ajoraverse · 6 years

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So, I kinda spent too long on this. There were two things in Albite’s initial concept: that she was a factory worker who led a revolution, and that she managed to spit in White Diamond’s face during her trial.

I’ve never been a big fan of academics and upper classes leading revolutions; it almost always results in benefiting them and still leaving the lower classes disadvantaged. Albite being a factory worker came out of that, and the frustration of Rose being Pink Diamond kinda fed into me building up Albite and Copper Pearl more.

So, here we go. The legend of that one time a manufacturing gem managed to humiliate a Diamond.

For four hundred thousand years, Albite Facet-11 Cut-7MS had done her job. For four hundred thousand years, she kept her head down and focused on building ships and heavy equipment. For four hundred thousand years, she pretended to ignore the rise of White Diamond and the suppression of the truth. For four hundred thousand years, she kept her recitations of their history to herself.

May we forever remember the Great Maker, Matarah of the dead nameless pulsar in the southern skies of the first colony; may the stars forever light her tomb and keep her company. She created the first of us, taught us to make others like us, and guided us until mortality took her from us. She gave us eyes to witness the cosmos and ears to listen to the remnants of the birth of the universe. She gave us mouths to speak with and tongue to taste. She gave us the ability to adapt our bodies to each other so that we may share our love and companionship. She gave us the capacity for love and the ability to emulate organics in order to experience their pleasures and pains. For the love of us, she created Diamond when she could no longer continue.

The Great Maker's command to Diamond was thus: "It will be your job to lead them. Love them as I loved you."

White Diamond had taken that command and warped it. The first generation of gems was either shattered for running afoul of White Diamond's reorganization efforts or disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Society grew increasingly rigid as she sought to mold gems into her ideals, with punishments aplenty for anyone who stepped out of the boxes she created for them. As shattering became more common, pearls were developed to make use of the shards.

Four hundred thousand years was too long to keep silent anymore.

Albite wasn't the first to rebel against White Diamond. That honor went to a sard, first of her kind, who rallied other first-generation gems against White Diamond in the era before gems were chased off the first colony by the star's red supergiant expansion. Albite would not be the last. At this point, it was practically a time-honored tradition.

She had done well for a factory gem. Her weapon was the gift of speech, and she used it to sway other lower-class gems to her side. She engaged them at every turn, encouraged them to think outside of White Diamond's roles for them, and reminded them that the universe did not function as cleanly as the machine their diamond wanted to make of gemkind. The idea that they must fit within certain parameters in order to be considered adequate gems was absurd, and Albite was more than happy to gather supporting arguments from other gems. Not even a diamond is flawless and free of inclusions, she reminded them. There is no such thing as "off-color". We are all born as molecules in the hearts of dying stars, given life by the Great Maker herself and implanted until we've absorbed enough materials to form. For living beings, there is no need greater than that for freedom. Freedom from the roles set for us, freedom from the illusions of class, freedom from tyranny. No force in the universe can stand against the need for freedom. Not even her.

They gravitated towards her message, because there were none so abused as the lower classes. She built them up, promising a better world if they could just topple the diamonds, and the mental image grew clearer with each successful battle. After all, did not the bismuths know their structures better than the upper crust? Who knew the vulnerabilities of gems better than the peridots who created them? Who knew the soil and weight-bearing substructures better than anorthites, the least of all natural gems and the most unloved? Great Maker, they almost even succeeded in claiming White Diamond's colony and expanding to the next.

She was captured, of course. It would have happened eventually, given the traitor in their midst, but she hadn't expected it to happen so fast. At least she had her contingency plan in place: the truth sequestered in data crystals, hidden away for future generations of gems. The peridot she gave those data crystals to was a coward, but a clever one who was ready to run and hide at a moment's notice. There was a glint of a survivor's instinct in the titanium inclusions in her gem, and maybe that was enough to keep their history alive when Albite was gone.

Albite kept her chin up, defiant, as she was walked down the long, narrow path to the courtroom. The milky quartzes at either side of her dwarfed her, but she did not fear them. They were simply doing their jobs. Had she the time, she might have convinced them that they could be more.

There would always be another like her. The need for freedom from tyranny was too great to go unchallenged for long. Someday these rebellions might even work.

A zircon rattled off a litany of grievances once she was in place and the milky quartzes left her side. Some of the charges were false, but no matter. She shrugged it off and continued to stare into White Diamond's eyes. The truth would survive. It always does.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Albite's eyes never left White Diamond's, though she was aware of the other diamonds watching on. They were inconsequential; White Diamond had always been the one in control of everything. It would not last, simply because nothing lasts forever. Stars die, rocks crumble, and even natural, non-sapient gems lose molecular cohesion after millions of years of exposure to the elements.

"No tyrant can hold a population in slavery forever," she began, her voice loud and clear in the silent room. "The need for freedom is universal. You may shatter me, but another will simply take my place. A time will come when gemkind is free of you."

White Diamond merely smiled and uttered a single word: "Bow."

Albite could feel the weight of something straining against her, making her knees buckle. She vented a chuckle and locked them instead. White Diamond's ability to force gems to comply was legendary, but some clever little idocrase had come up with a solution. The puff of titanium vapor on her gem had hurt as the molecules bonded to hers, but she knew that sooner or later this would happen anyway and tolerated the moment of pain. It seemed to help, a little.

White Diamond's unsettling smile disappeared as the lips pressed instead into a thin line of disapproval. Albite's cracked into a grin as the surprise seemed to ease that something compelling her to bow, and grabbed the moment as quickly as she could.

She was tiny in comparison, but her size and long experience in factories gave her an edge. She darted up White Diamond's dress as if it was one of the factory ladders, moving so fast and unevenly that White Diamond couldn't smack her away in time. She was barely aware of the gasp of shock from one of the other diamonds, or the indignant outcry of the other diamond. As she threw herself over the bodice, she pulled her grappling hook out of her gem and a snap of the wrist sent the hook wrapping around a spike of hair. Quickly she hauled herself up. And up. And up, until she came eye to eye with the stunned White Diamond. Perhaps Albite's grin was just as mad as any of White Diamond's. She didn't have the time to guess. She collected the saliva that had been building from the moment she started climbing and spit all of it right into White Diamond's eye.

It had stalled her long enough for White Diamond's hand to fall hard against her back. The sudden pain loosened her hold on her rope and sent her falling to the ground.

Faintly she was aware of the milky quartzes rushing to her side to grab her arms and haul her up. It was worth it.

Blue Diamond stood and whispered something to White Diamond that Albite couldn't hear; her ears were still ringing from the impact. That creepy black smile returned.

"You certainly make a big deal about freedom and slavery, don't you?" White Diamond said in that smooth, unbothered tone of voice she affected. "Blue has such a wonderful idea. Since you're ever so interested in such things, your shards will be used to seed pearls. Isn't that generous of her?"

Albite refused to let it affect her. It wasn't like she would be conscious of being made into pearls, right? She set her jaw and glared back at White Diamond even as the end came.

Seven shards were left of her and seven pearls were born of her.

White Diamond kept those pearls close, at least for the first few thousand years. They were broken, the shards recycled for the next generation of Albite pearls, and broken again. Perhaps one had been lost, perhaps not. White Diamond was not informed of one of the shards going missing and didn't notice the difference. And if a bit of Albite survived outside of White Diamond’s set of pearls, what did it matter? No pearl ever remembered who they once were.

#SU: Beta AU

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origami-goblin · 7 years

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Starfinder Theme Focus - Mercenaries and Outlaws

Three down, seven to go! I’ve decided that I might as well just knock out the remaining themes all in a row so that at the very least they’ll be crammed together on the blog in a loose semblance of order. Check back on the first two posts if you want a bit of background on the Starfinder Themes and the role they play in character creation. There isn’t much more I can expand on regarding themes specifically, so maybe I’ll just impart a few thoughts on backstories as little tidbits for you to ruminate on. Maybe I’ll sprinkle some powdered sugar on top. Maybe!

The point of a backstory is provide a framework and serve as a backdrop for your character - what do they believe? What quirks do they have? Why are they the way that they are? We are all products of our environments, and it is that environment that you are trying to envision. Leave spaces in the narrative to come out during the game; if you fill in every tiny detail then there won’t be anything for the GM to work with and incorporate into the story. Loose ends are the best! They can be woven into the narrative in order to enhance the game. Even if you’re playing a prewritten Adventure Path or Module, a good GM will use the gaps in your backstory to help engage your PC and keep them interested. And when you’re talking about the sheet expanse of the Vast in Starfinder, let your imagination run rampant on WHO your character is! Themes are a nice paste you can spread over your character to stick new things on top of.

Alright - now we are primed to talk about the Mercenary and Outlaw themes. There is a “bad boy” mentality that naturally comes into the conversation with each of these, by lets see if we can list out five brief theme concepts that stretch the boundaries of the basic definitions of these words.

Mercenary Character Concepts “Whether you take jobs that match your ethical beliefs or you fight for anyone who can afford your services, you are a hired gun. You might take pride in your past accomplishments, proudly displaying trophies of your kills, or you might be laden with guilt over being the sole survivor of a mission gone terribly wrong. You most likely work with other mercenaries and are familiar with the methodologies of military actions all across the galaxy.”

Security Officer - You’ve always seen yourself as a protector - whether someone needs a watchful eye to make sure they stay out of trouble, or if an estate needs to reprimand unwelcome visitors, you can answer that call. Your allegiance follows the flow of credits and you won’t let your personal beliefs get in the way of whoever’s paying. Nobody’s breaking Non-Disclosure Agreements, but you wouldn’t be dissuaded from providing your security services for a direct competitor. Do you run a small-scale Security Detail or are you a division of a larger corporation? Do you specialize in a particular type of work, such as being a bodyguard or providing cyber-security? Where is your base of operations, or do you require on-site lodgings in order to provide the best service? Were you a part of a specific military before becoming involved in security or have you never tied yourself down to a specific group in that capacity? I see Michael Weston from Burn Notice as a decent example of a Mercenary in this vein - providing assistance through the completion of odd jobs and using his unique skills to outthink his opposition. Divine Crusader - You believe that the Divine shape the universe through the people that inhabit it. And after all is said and done, and your light goes out, you want to be sure that your deeds didn’t go unnoticed from the powerful beings above. For this reason you wear every divine symbol under your shirt, prominently displaying the current recipient of your unwavering homage and devotion. For you, it isn’t a matter of lacking faith; you are just covering your spiritual bases. Or maybe you have followed a strict belief to a single deity for your entire life, pledging your devotion whole-cloth from day one. Do you play a prominent militaristic role while professing your faith or do you sell your services in a more charismatic avenue? Are you convinced that your actions are tipping the doomsday scales in your favor, or is there a crack in your faith? Have you served in any divine-fueled wars or defected from a losing side? A character falling into this category should have their religious preference tied into their backstory, which had likely followed their interests, skills, and hobbies. I can’t stop thinking of medieval crusaders in this regard, but there is a lot of flavor to dip into here. Corporate Consultant - In the Pact Worlds, corporations might as well be planets for all the power that carry, and they probably have a militaristic presence of some kind. A corporate consultant could specialize in offering recommendations to specific equipment and weapons, or perhaps they aren’t involved in a violent capacity at all. They could be ruthless and tactical, pulling the strings from behind the curtain or offering suggestions on where to shave off the excess fat of the company. I particularly like the idea of someone walking around with a clipboard and conducting interviews with employees ala Office Space. But how does that tie to a Mercenary? Maybe it’s the company itself - weapons contractor, thugs for hire, etc. Or, perhaps the war lies between a rival corporation and you are involved in espionage and marketing attacks to gain market share. Targeted advertisements, facilities sabotage, and staged product recalls are only the tip of the iceberg. Intergalactic Lobbyist - You have connections. We aren’t talking about a guy who does your dry cleaning or a farm with the best space radishes; these are high-level, big-time connections that puts credits in pockets and shapes the political landscape of the Pact Worlds. The companies on the money side of the table tell you which babies to kiss and which people to schmooze. If your efforts lead to a political victory, lax taxation, or breaks in long-standing mercantile tariffs, then you get paid handsomely as well. Having the backing of a wealthy corporation is influential in the complicated game of thrones and your ability to reach across planetary lines to make hands meet in a mutual agreement is second to none. Are you employed by a certain company or industry, or do you represent the lawmaking bodies? Do you have morals where you would refuse to make connections that conflict with your personal beliefs? Are you sincere in your work? Have you been known to exercise a position as a double-agent or worked to tack on seemingly insignificant riders to laws that will add up to accomplish a more grandiose goal? You’re likely trained to handle yourself in case seals go sour, and can get out of hairy situations with your wit or your weapons. Boisterous Revolutionary - The transgressions of the current government have gone far enough and it is time for someone to lead the charge against their injustice. That someone is you. Whether it be a local affair to overthrow a village leader or an elaborate scheme to Take Down an entire planetary government, you have the tactical mind and leadership ability required to gather people behind a cause. This might not even be your brainchild - perhaps you were hired to be the face of the militaristic front or to train the rabble that will be storming the frontlines of the fight. Is your identity a secret while you infiltrate the ranks of the very government you’re trying to unravel? Are you merely a voice blasting through the sound-waves, promoting action or demanding change? Why do you fight? Is it a personal grievance or is your reasoning more utilitarian than that? How is the revolution designed to be won and what are the conditions of a victory? From a grassroots movement to an all-out war, there are loads of potential for a character who wants things to be different.

Outlaw Character Concepts "Due to the sins of your past or your current unlawful behavior, you are a wanted individual somewhere in the Pact Worlds. You might not even be guilty and are striving to clear your good name. Or you might fully admit to being a criminal but believe the laws you break are unjust. Whatever the case, boarding a starship headed to the Vast might be just the thing you need until the heat dies down—or until you’re dragged off to prison.” Escaped Convict - You weren’t about to twiddle your thumbs and patiently serve out your sentence. Through careful planning, tactical bribes, and a healthy serving of luck, you have broken out of prison and now you’re on the lam. I’m sure that the going hasn’t been easy - between hiding from the law, committing other crimes to stay alive, and disguising your appearance, it’s been a challenge. Did you have anyone waiting for you on the outside, or have you been begging, borrowing, and sealing to get by? Did your escape because you were wrongfully convicted or did you have some unfinished business to take care of? Were you a part of a criminal organization that lacked direction after you were locked up? What about going forwards - do you have a new identity that you’ve been working to build? Is this a backstory within a backstory situation? Were you partially rehabilitated? Did a couple screws get popped loose while you were in the clink, or are there any specific life-changing moments after your capture and sentencing? From the details of the escape, to acquaintances made behind bars, to plans for the future, this one has some long legs you can use to take some great strides. Undercover Vigilante - By day you work a nondescript job behind a desk but once night hits you are something else entirely. Alternate personas, white lies regarding your whereabouts, and layers of complex secrets define your alternate exploits. In your primary life you might display yourself as completely average but your other identity has an astronomical bounty on their head. What sorts of activities do you participate in while you’re on and off the clock? Are you more of a Robin Hood character or an independent crime fighter who bends the rules and laws to bring justice to those who would normally get a slap on the wrist? Are your methods questionable? Do you kill? It’s hard not to use Dexter as a point of comparison for someone who uses illegal means to ensure justice is served. Does anybody know about your double life, or do you offer your services to law enforcement agencies? Is there a contact on the force that helps you plan out your next target? Do you wear a unique costume or uniform or do you think it’s unnecessary so long as your face is hidden? White Collar Criminal - Blood is messy and it will spoil your freshly laundered clothes. Your crimes aren’t rooted in violence of the body, but in the acquisition of funds through discreet avenues. Accounting errors, financial repossession algorithms, malicious software - you alter the bottom line of companies to fill your purse with those sweet, sweet credits. Maybe you’ve forged documents to give yourself access to places you shouldn’t be, or perhaps you’ve run pyramid schemes that have created an almost-cult following behind you. What sorts of crimes have you performed and what sorts of groups do you typically target? How large is he typical score? Do you use an alias or leave a calling card to pump up your ego or would you rather not take those unnecessary risks? Did you have an inspiration or teacher for your work, or were your skills self-taught? Is this a full-time gig or do you have another job so that your extra-curricular activities are more of a supplement? Neal Caffrey from White Collar would be a solid source of inspiration for this one, and he really is a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to these sorts of things. Think about how it translates to the world of Starfinder, where technology has progressed significantly and the possibility of scams is abundant - lemon starships, pre-Gap forgeries, and impersonations of diplomats who are literally planets away. Petty Thief - You are small-time but that doesn’t mean you’re any less talented than the more infamous criminals who are making bigger scores than you. In your eyes, smaller is safer since people are less apt to notice and the manhunt won’t be as dedicated when a booster gets stolen off a personal starship or a couple hundred credits get swiped from a stray purse. Maybe you were raised on the streets and this has always been a part of you or maybe you’ve resorted to crime to rebel against an unfair system. Perhaps you enjoy the thrill you get from the act itself, or you like to cut it as close as possible without getting caught. Do you work independently or as a part of a team? Is there a special role that you fill? How much planning do you do before committing a crime or do you act within the moment? Are you skilled with a weapon or are your talents more in line with dexterity and a convincing tongue? Do you have a stash of Stolen Goods or do you turn around and sell the hot items right away? Is there anything that you’ve stolen that has developed sentimental value? You wouldn’t even have to have an evil alignment depending on your intentions and the severity of your crimes. Contract Assassin - You have your target and it is your job to eliminate that target without drawing suspicion to yourself or your employer(s). Secrecy is the name of the game and nobody is more meticulous in plotting out the precise details of your operation. As such, your skills come at a high price, but people are willing to pay it knowing that you will be successful in fulfilling your end of the bargain. Your actions have ended wars and started them, reunited countries and torn them apart. From insignificant low-lifes to heavily guarded political figures, you fulfill whatever contracts are the most attractive. Are you driven by money or do you believe that the results of your actions will align with another agenda? Is there a list of prerequisites that must be fulfilled before a target becomes an acceptable contract? How do people get in contact with you? How do you provide your resume for the skeptical clientele without giving away your identity completely? My fallback isAgent 47 from the Hitman series, since he is practically more machine than man which provides an interesting dynamic for the rest of the party.

—

Another two themes are in the books! Think about how you can add additional spins to these and how the other aspects of your character might tie into the Theme. Can you picture a Vesk crunching numbers and pushing papers all day just to hit the streets as a brutish enforcer at night? What about a Ysoki rubbing elbows with some of the most elite leaders in the Pact Worlds? Priests and Scholars are up next - stay tuned for more Starfinder goodness!

#Starfinder #Tabletop #Gaming #Paizo #Themes #Character #Building #Inspiration #RPG

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the-tales-of-horror · 7 years

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I Found the Cure for Writer's Block!

Original Link By Jaksim

Writer’s block is the erectile dysfunction of the literary world. I never thought it would happen to me. It’s embarrassing and difficult to explain to others. But unlike erectile dysfunction, there’s no little blue pill you can take for writer’s block.

I didn’t even realize that I had it until my publisher pointed it out. Sure, it had been a few months since I had last written anything worth its salt. And sure, the ideas weren’t rolling in with their usual frequency. But writer’s block wasn’t something that happened to published writers. Plus, I’m a horror writer for god sakes. With how horrifying the world has become in recent months, inspiration should have been just around the corner.

“Thomas, this work is not of your usual quality.”

“I thought that writing a story from the ghost’s point of view would be unique.”

“We both know that’s been done before. Plus, how would a ghost ever get their work put into publication? It doesn’t make sense – it pulls the reader out of the work. Why don’t you write another one of those stories about the freakshow?”

“I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel like the right time for another one of those. What about the other stories I sent you last month?”

“Thomas, you only sent me one story last month. The one about the rats. It was O.K. at best. What’s going on with you?”

My publisher raised a good question. What had happened to me? I went from writing every day to barely producing one short story a month. There were still ideas, but they didn’t excite me.

“Maybe you should take a break from writing. Go back to teaching for a while?”

That was my wife’s opinion on the matter. Of course she thought that way. She was a hot-shot lawyer. She knew that it didn’t matter what I did for my career because her job paid more than enough to support us and our two children.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll like teaching more than you liked writing.”

More than I liked writing? My wife is beautiful, but sometimes she can be an asshole. As if writing is just a hobby to me. As if my failure to perform was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Over the next few weeks I applied for teaching jobs. Hardly anybody called. All the schools were already full. The ones that weren’t full were looking for a candidate who had taught more recently. The only promising call was from a Catholic school in downtown Giliman. But the day before I was supposed to go in for an interview the principal called me and told me the bad news.

“Your resume looks great but the board doesn’t feel comfortable hiring someone whose published works are so… macabre. We’ll keep your resume on file though.”

There’s an old saying that goes “Those who can do and those who can’t teach.” I couldn’t write anymore and they wouldn’t let me teach. My world felt empty. This may seem melodramatic to those of you that aren’t creative types, but I contemplated ending it a few times. What was the point of my existence if all I could do was exist?

“C’mon Tom, there’s always the kids. Take some time off – focus on being a father and a husband.” Vera always thought that I should be a stay at home dad. Even when I was producing pieces consistently, she still thought that my main priority should be raising our son and daughter. Evidently I had done a mediocre job of that too – my daughter was obnoxiously meek and my son spent as much time suspended from his high school classes as he did in attendance.

But I was out of options. I became Mr. Mom. I made the kids lunches, took them to school, picked them up from school, took them to swim lessons and scout troop meetings. Every day I just kept thinking – “One day inspiration will come and I won’t have to take part in this monotony anymore.”

I was right.

That day came on a Saturday in early spring. The weather was becoming nice enough that my kids and I were hanging out in the front yard. My son, Evan, was throwing a stuffed giraffe for our dog, Mudder. Hannah, my daughter, was sitting on the porch step, scribbling away in a little notebook. My attention was focused on Hannah – I’ll admit, I was a bit jealous that she could so easily fill that notebook with ideas. I was so absorbed that I didn’t see Mudder follow the tumbling stuffed giraffe into the street until it was too late.

I only looked up when I heard my son scream. Mudder had been so intent on catching his toy that he hadn’t seen the Town Car shooting down the street in front of my house. Before I could say anything or stop him, the bumper of the car collided with Mudder’s back end. The car came to a screeching halt. His furry body spiraled through the air and collided with the concrete about twenty-five feet from the initial impact point.

The back half of his body had been struck so hard that it folded his spine sideways. His tail was practically touching his nose. Even from almost fifty feet away I could still hear the awful crunch of bone breaking. The impact must have killed him because he didn’t even whimper when his body landed on the street. I ran to shield Hannah’s eyes from the expanding pool of blood beneath him and the exposed bone that scratched against the asphalt. But even as the driver of the car, a lanky teenage boy, came to apologize to me, I couldn’t stop staring at Mudder.

The way his body had contorted and oozed fascinated me. Both of my children and the teenager were in tears. I did my best to comfort all involved and call our vet to come get Mudder’s body. The whole situation – the gore, the sadness, the procedure – it was so… romantic. The pieces of the story fit together like a work of Hemingway. Picture this:

“Troubled boy (Evan) has only one friend in the world (Mudder). That friend is ripped from his grasp by an unfair and twisted event (the Town Car colliding with him.)”

I was up all night writing. The image of blood oozing from Mudder’s side and my sobbing son replayed in my head over and over. By the time the sun came up I had written an entire novella. In my story, the lanky teenager had been replaced by a local construction worker, but otherwise the story was the same. My publisher ate it up.

“The description in this story was immaculate. You’ve never really shined when it came to your gory description, but the car accident was horrifying. This is some of your best work.”

“Thank you sir.”

“If you can write a few more stories like this then we could see about doing a book.”

A few more stories? My throat tightened with a sick mixture of guilt and anxiety. This story didn’t come from me. It came from reality. I consoled myself that maybe the accident, however tragic, had brought the spark back. But no words appeared when my fingers touched the keys. There were ideas in my head but I couldn’t put them to paper. What could I say that would rival the horror of reality?

And that’s when it hit me. Nothing could rival reality. I could never think of an idea that would make a reader feel the way Evan and Hannah felt when they saw Mudder get torn apart like that. But maybe I could write something that reflected reality. Maybe there could be an event so horrifying that when I put it to paper it still retained a portion of its twisted nature.

I began with Evan. It was simple. He loved getting into trouble. He loved disobeying me and being the rule breaker. I had a feeling that he had and his friends had recently begun experimenting with marijuana. A cursory search of his room revealed that I was correct. I found a little baggy buried in his underwear drawer. I’m not sure who Evan was buying from, but they sure gave him some skunky weed. I soaked it in paint thinner for thirty minutes and you still couldn’t smell the stuff.

Now, I will admit that I should have been more cautious. My intent was for my ne’er-do-well son to smoke the poisoned weed. I hadn’t considered the prospect that he and his friends would all partake in it together

That being said, the emergency room was a cornucopia of inspiration. Four high schoolers so sick they couldn’t lift their heads. Their skin a pale yellow color. Their vomit smelling of paint thinner and blood. The only thing that could have made it better was if one of them had survived. I probably could have written a story about the survivor’s guilt alone. Luckily, the crying faces of all those parents, of my wife and my daughter – they were inspiration enough to churn out a 112-page tragedy. My publisher called it “disturbing on a whole new level.”

But still, I needed more. One more big story. I decided to go for a different approach. My wife thought that she had her life so put together. Even after the tragedy of Evan’s death she still continued to go to work. She still felt like she had everything figured out. Picture this:

“Uptight wife thinks she has her life together. Suddenly, she is forced to quit work and care for her family. Just when she thinks everything will be okay, she finds out things are more horrible than she could imagine.”

Ruining her life was easier than you might have thought. It all began with an “accident”. Another car crash, but this time with myself and Hannah in the front seat. Nothing too dangerous, just a quick swerve into a median on the highway. The car was totaled, but the real damage was to its occupants. My legs were both broken, but I got off far better than my daughter. Her right leg was almost entirely shattered. Her right wrist and most of the fingers on her left hand had broken in the crash. She was useless. The doctor scolded me for allowing her to sit in the front seat, but what are you going to do, right?

Of course, my wife had to think that I was as useless as my daughter. So I faked a head injury. All of a sudden I was “not all there” and “incapable of taking care of myself”. Those are her words.

She took a sabbatical from her job to take care of us. I made her do the whole lot – spoon feeding me, cleaning up my shit and piss, carrying me to and from bed. Her career as a lawyer was no more. Of course, she had to take care of my daughter as well. That gave me plenty of time to take away our safety net.

Anytime I was left alone I spent draining our savings. A little bit donated to some charities, a little bit blown in online poker – you get the drift. Of course, she had no way of knowing about any of this until it was too late. One day when she tried to run her debit card at the grocery store and it kept getting rejected. Man how it must have killed her to ask her ailing father to loan her money. I almost burst out laughing when I heard her tell him on the phone that it had been “identity theft.”

Of course, the pièce de résistance of my plan was Trinity. She was some gold digger I met online. With my legs broken, there was no way I could actually cheat on Vera. But I could certainly make her think I had. I sent hundreds of messages flirting with and exchanging pictures with Trinity.

My newest tale was already coming to fruition. I had written over a hundred pages about the tragedy of the once great Vera Wilks. There was only one chapter still left to be written – the big reveal. When she learned that her once caring husband had torn her life apart.

To be honest, I thought things would go a bit differently. I had expected her reaction to be more… heartbroken. You know – depression, anxiety, maybe even suicide. Instead, Vera was pissed. I mean push her wheel-chair bound husband down the stairs pissed.

“How could you do this to our son? To our daughter?” Obviously, I couldn’t easily escape her wrath with my two broken legs. For the first few minutes, I thought she was going to kill me. What a shame that would have been. There would have been no opportunity to write any of this down. Luckily, I think she realized that death would have been too good for me.

She has me chained up in the basement. Every day I learn about a new form of pain. Yesterday she brought down the blow torch. The day before that was an electric sander. I can hear her talking upstairs when I put my ear to the pipes. It sounds like she’s ordering some sort of electro-shock therapy device on the phone. Probably going to be pretty painful.

The jokes on her though. She cut off one of my hands, but not the other. And she doesn’t know that I snuck my phone down here. It’s a little hard to type with my fingertips nearly sanded off, but I’ve been able to send most of this to my publisher. He’s going to explode when he reads the ending to this one. Picture this:

“Wife pushed so far to the edge that she becomes a torturous maniac. She maims and mangles her author husband à la Kathy Bates in Misery. Unbeknownst to her, he enjoys every second of it.”

I smell a best seller. Hopefully, I’ll still be alive when my book gets published. But if not, that’s alright as well. Artist’s works tend to be much more popular after they die.

Turns out the cure for writer’s block is simple.

It’s pain.

#I Found the Cure for Writer's Block!#Horror Stories #TTOH #Scary Story #Reddit NoSleep

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zrtranscripts · 8 years

Text

Radio Abel, Season Two

Part 2b of 6

This section contains variations depending on the percentage of morale in your base builder.

If your base morale is LESS than 50%, continue reading. If your base morale is GREATER than 50%, read Part 2a.

Affected clips are indicated by italics.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: I don't get what you think's so wrong about it.

ZOE CRICK: So you do the same in the same order every single morning.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah, and?

ZOE CRICK: Brush your teeth, five minutes. Wash your face, one minute. Boil some water, two minutes. Dunk the tea bag one minute thirty-five seconds precisely.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yup. Thirty-five seconds makes the best cuppa. As long as you put the milk in first.

ZOE CRICK: Of course! You'd be an idiot not to.

ESTEBAN SOSA: Zoe, Philip.

ZOE CRICK: Esteban -

ESTEBAN SOSA: I'm so very sorry to interrupt.

ZOE CRICK: No, it's fine. I'm sure our listeners would agree that we really, really weren't talking about anything important.

ESTEBAN SOSA: Yes. We must prioritize. On top of our agenda has been this radio situation. Major De Santa is not happy that you're pushing Radio Abel from the airwaves.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It's not our fault they went off the air! We didn't blow up Abel.

ESTEBAN SOSA: True, Philip. However, Radio New Tomorrow is now blocking the Abel frequency. I think maybe we can agree that this is your fault.

ZOE CRICK: Fault's a bit harsh -

ESTEBAN SOSA: You're right, of course. We should be looking for synergies, not conflicts. Brand merges rather than brand wars. This is why the Permanent Advisory Council has decided on a joint broadcast.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: The Permanent Advisory Council wants us to - ?

ESTEBAN SOSA: - has decided, yes.

ZOE CRICK: Right. Well, um... stay tuned, listeners. We'll be back after this. I think.

ZOE CRICK: Great song! One of my top ten guilty pleasures.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Welcome back, ci-ti-zens. So, yeah. If you've just tuned in, there's been some big changes around here. Joining us all the way from Abel, we've got Jack and -

JACK HOLDEN: Hey guys! We're back! Woohoo!

EUGENE WOODS: Hello everyone! Boy, it's good to be back, wouldn't you say, Jack?

JACK HOLDEN: Absolutely -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: - Jack and Eugene. Back on the airwaves for the new improved Radio New Tomorrow, now with added Abel. Lucky us.

ZOE CRICK: Anyway, before you joined us on the air, we were talking about routine. Right, Phil?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Right.

ZOE CRICK: Phil's a big fan of routine. Not a big fan of change, are you, Phil?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: No, I'm not.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, routine's very important, isn't it, Jack?

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, without a doubt, Gene.

EUGENE WOODS: Without routine, we'd be no better than animals.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, I don't know. Animals have routines, don't they?

EUGENE WOODS: Like what?

JACK HOLDEN: Like -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Don't get off on a tangent. We don't do tangents on Radio New Tomorrow.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh.

EUGENE WOODS: It wasn't really a tangent, it was more -

ZOE CRICK: We totally do tangents on Radio New Tomorrow! We might as well call it Radio Tangent.

JACK HOLDEN: Tangents are good, anyway. Routines... yeah, routine's fine and all, but when the world's going crazy...

EUGENE WOODS: Like if you're a survivor of the zombie apocalypse -

JACK HOLDEN: - surrounded by the living dead -

EUGENE WOODS: - never knowing when you might have to run for your life or kill one of your closest friends -

ZOE CRICK: Then it might be important to stay flexible. All right, let's play some music.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: I don't care how many listeners you think you have. That doesn't change the principle -

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, get down from your high horse, Phil, for God's sakes! You know you're squatting this frequency at best. You swooped in here while you thought we were gone, and -

JACK HOLDEN: While they thought I was dead!

EUGENE WOODS: While you thought Jack was dead! And then you started -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: And then what? We were supposed to just leave that incredibly annoying recording running until, uh, the end of time?

ZOE CRICK: He has got a point.

JACK HOLDEN: Why didn't you just start fresh on a new channel?

EUGENE WOODS: Exactly! You just wanted to poach our listeners.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It is not about the listeners!

ZOE CRICK: Guys -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Not now!

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, it's not about the listeners, he says!

JACK HOLDEN: That's rich!

ZOE CRICK: Guys!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: What?

EUGENE WOODS: What?

ZOE CRICK: Um, the song ended about a minute ago.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Damn it! This is your fault.

EUGENE WOODS: Me? The music's playing from your end!

JACK HOLDEN: For God's sake.

EUGENE WOODS: [sighs] Okay, listeners. Sorry about that.

JACK HOLDEN: Yes. Please accept our sincere apologies for the conduct of our substitutes.

EUGENE WOODS: Don't worry, though. We've come to an agreement to avoid any further... difficulties.

JACK HOLDEN: Yep. Uh, the new plan is that we'll be on a rota from now on.

EUGENE WOODS: So sometimes you'll get us -

JACK HOLDEN: And then, unfortunately, sometimes you'll be stuck with those guys.

EUGENE WOODS: It can't be changed.

JACK HOLDEN: If it could, we would.

EUGENE WOODS: Indeed. But hey, at least we're back, even if it's only for part of the time.

JACK HOLDEN: Absolutely. And to celebrate the fact, here's some music from your very favorite radio DJs.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Stay safe out there, guys.

JACK HOLDEN: Okie dokie! Uh, we're back with you, and it's time for something we haven't done in a little while.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Well, we haven't really done any of this in a little while.

JACK HOLDEN: I mean... yeah, okay, but well, this is something we haven't done in an even littler while.

EUGENE WOODS: What?

JACK HOLDEN: It's been longer since we did this.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, why didn't you just say that?

JACK HOLDEN: Trying to keep the patter going?

EUGENE WOODS: Failing miserably?

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, yeah. Man.

EUGENE WOODS: Anyway, we're just going to give you a bit of an update on what's going on in and around Abel, where you can find shelter, where you can trade, and where you should avoid at all costs.

JACK HOLDEN: It's useful information, guys, so stay with us.

EUGENE WOODS: We'll be right back.

EUGENE WOODS: All right then, Jack, how's it looking out there?

JACK HOLDEN: Well first off, I want to say thanks to all our contributors on Rofflenet who've been feeding us this info since we came back on the air.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, thanks a bunch, everyone. We really couldn't do this without you.

JACK HOLDEN: Not at all. You guys rock! Especially everyone at the New Times, which is bringing journalism back from the dead.

EUGENE WOODS: You really just won't quit with the zombie puns, will you?

JACK HOLDEN: [laugh] Nope.

EUGENE WOODS: Just when you thought they were dead -

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, hey, don't step to me!

EUGENE WOODS: - they keep coming back.

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] You're the worst!

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, don't sell yourself short. Anyway guys, here's the news. You ready?

JACK HOLDEN: Take it away!

EUGENE WOODS: Okay, so long time listeners to our show will remember our friends over at Phoenix Comics. Well, they've been back in touch to let us know that they've expanded, and now control the whole of Hemmins Town Square.

JACK HOLDEN: Nice work, guys.

EUGENE WOODS: Keep on fighting the good fight. They also wanted to let all of you know that they're accepting any able-bodied folks looking for a safe place to stay. You'll have to be prepared to work on their farm and help with their reconstruction efforts, but they're offering hot water, clean housing, and fresh meat twice a month.

JACK HOLDEN: Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. Do you think they'll want a radio host?

JACK HOLDEN: Don't you mean two?

EUGENE WOODS: Oh. Oh jeez, this is awkward... uh, yeah, you're not invited. Sorry, Jack.

JACK HOLDEN: [gasps] ... listeners, I'm going to have a word with Eugene in private about other peoples' feelings and how they should be respected and not hurt like a big mean-head.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Don't be so soft!

JACK HOLDEN: Mean-head!

JACK HOLDEN: Groovy.

EUGENE WOODS: Groovy?

JACK HOLDEN: Yup! That was a groovy song.

EUGENE WOODS: Well, I'm hip to that, brother.

JACK HOLDEN: [snorts] Dork.

EUGENE WOODS: Says you. What's next on our list?

JACK HOLDEN: Oh... oh! Well, to follow our hot tip about the nicest place south of Gretna, we've got a big old warning for you all now.

EUGENE WOODS: Oh wow, this sounds nasty.

JACK HOLDEN: Yep. Um, everyone pay attention. We've received reports that there's been an explosion at an old warehouse up near Hayfield.

EUGENE WOODS: Generator malfunction is what I heard.

JACK HOLDEN: Me too. Uh, there were a few people holed up there, unfortunately, but the important thing's what happened next.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. Apparently, the warehouse used to be owned by some big cleaning company.

JACK HOLDEN: And a couple of hundred gallons of bleach floor cleaner and other nasty chemicals have leaked into the nearby river.

EUGENE WOODS: This is really bad news, guys, so whatever you do, do not drink water from the Dundrennan river.

JACK HOLDEN: We're serious about this, guys. Stay away from the Dundrennan unless you've got a death wish.

EUGENE WOODS: This is so serious, we're not going to even make any witty remarks about the situation. We're just going to remind you: do not drink from the Dundrennan.

JACK HOLDEN: And now here's a song.

EUGENE WOODS: All right, guys. Now, to wrap things up for this feature, we're going to get down and dirty with a quick shoutout to all the new green zones we've been hearing about. Take it away, Jack.

JACK HOLDEN: E.B. Park is clean. They've got a nice butterfly house, remember?

EUGENE WOODS: I believe you're right. Also, Elan Amphitheater is clean.

JACK HOLDEN: Big up to the folks down there. Not an easy job.

EUGENE WOODS: The Ellis Stone Estate, clear of zoms.

JACK HOLDEN: Pendleton Heights, clear of zoms.

EUGENE WOODS: And finally, Venture Plaza.

JACK HOLDEN: Phew! Well, I'm glad to hear things are going so well.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, well, let's hope they all stay clear for a while.

JACK HOLDEN: Totally. Uh, we could certainly do with some more good news.

EUGENE WOODS: And some more good tunes!

JACK HOLDEN: You read my mind. Right back after this.

JACK HOLDEN: All righty, guys, it's now time for us to sign off and hand you back to the B team.

EUGENE WOODS: But before we go, we just have a quick tip to share with you all.

JACK HOLDEN: We do! Uh, this is the latest thing from the folks over at the New Times.

EUGENE WOODS: It's all the rage right now. You see, listeners, since the whole zombie... invasion?

JACK HOLDEN: Kerfuffle?

EUGENE WOODS: Mishegoss.

JACK HOLDEN: Ooh.

EUGENE WOODS: Cool. Since the whole zombie mishegoss, it's become increasingly difficult to keep track of your friends.

JACK HOLDEN: Where they are, what they're doing.

EUGENE WOODS: Right, so the guys over at the NT have -

ZOE CRICK: Right, time's up.

JACK HOLDEN: What?

EUGENE WOODS: Hey!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: We've been waiting twenty minutes for you to finish so we can get on.

ZOE CRICK: To be fair, it's actually only been seven minutes.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: That's not the point! We had an agreement. If these two would stick to the script -

ZOE CRICK: I don't get the impression they actually have a script.

JACK HOLDEN: I beg your pardon! We plan our broadcasts very carfully, thank you very much!

EUGENE WOODS: Well, apart from the, uh -

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, yeah, apart from that. That is -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: The point is, the rota we agreed on isn't working -

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, come on, Phil, don't be that guy! Don't -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: What guy?

JACK HOLDEN: The rota guy! Don't – don't do that to us.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: I am not Rota Guy.

JACK HOLDEN: [mockingly imitates PHIL CHEESEMAN] "Nah nah nah, I'm Phil. Rota rota rota!"

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Listen, you fa-

[JACK HOLDEN shouts]

ZOE CRICK: Whoa!

[three ascending synthesizer notes play, a echoing voice whispers, "New Tomorrow"]

EUGENE WOODS: Okay. Now, things got a little heated, there -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Why did you interrupt me?

JACK HOLDEN: Why did I interrupt a complete tool using a homophobic slur?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Hey, I wasn't - !

EUGENE WOODS: Jack, easy!

ZOE CRICK: We all need to calm down.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: I'm not a homophobe!

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, you were about to call me -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: - a fat idiot. A fat idiot. That's what I was going to call you! "You fat idiot!"

JACK HOLDEN: Oh. Oh, sorry. ... I'm not fat!

EUGENE WOODS: Okay, okay. Everyone, let's just take a minute, okay?

ZOE CRICK: You know what I think our problem is? We've got a jingle, and you haven't.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Really? You think that's the problem.

ZOE CRICK: Yes. So, as a fence-building exercise – oh, hold on. Do I sound like Esteban?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yes.

ZOE CRICK: As an olive branch, I thought I'd do you guys your very own jingle.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: But you can't sing, or play an instrument. You're tone deaf.

ZOE CRICK: I didn't say it would be a good jingle.

EUGENE WOODS: I can hardly wait. We'll be back after this.

[accompanied by an electronic keyboard melody and shaker percussion beat, ZOE CRICK sings, "Jack and Eugene are... Radio Abel!"

ZOE CRICK: That's it! In my defense, I didn't have much time, and as Phil pointed out, I am tone deaf.

EUGENE WOODS: No, no, it was great. Thanks a lot.

JACK HOLDEN: Ugh. Sounded like a deodorant advert from the 70s.

EUGENE WOODS: Jack!

ZOE CRICK: Thanks.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah, sorry. That came out harsher than I thought it would.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Maybe try thinking before you speak next time.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, and what would you know about that?

EUGENE WOODS: All right, all right! Jeez, enough. I need some air. Zoe, thank you for the song. Phil, the floor is yours. We'll try not to overrun so much next time.

ZOE CRICK: Sure.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Goodbye! So nice of you to stop in.

ZOE CRICK: Phil! Just... oh God, just play a song, would you?

Note: the next three clips contain spoilers for S2M11, “The Kids Are Alright”

ZOE CRICK: If you've just tuned in, today's a special broadcast just for Jamie's rugrats.

PHIL CHEESEMAN and ZOE CRICK simultaneously: Hi, kids!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Right now, it's the art competition! We asked you to draw a picture of an important place, person, or animal. Jamie's sent them all in for us to pick some of our favorites.

ZOE CRICK: This is great. I feel just like Tony Hart. It's time for the gallery. [hums theme tune]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: [whispers] They're at primary school, Zoe. They don't know who Tony Hart was. I didn't know who he was until you started going on and on and on about him. [out loud] First up, there's Tasha, aged seven. She's sent us a picture of -

ZOE CRICK: I think that might be Jamie. I didn't know he had three legs and bright blue skin, but -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh yes, Tasha's written it on. It's a lovely picture of Jamie. That's great, Tasha! You're very talented.

ZOE CRICK: Six year old Eric has sent us a picture of what's definitely a horse. And I think that's him riding it. You've got a very realistic sense of motion there, Eric, I have to say. That horse definitely looks like it's galloping, which makes sense, because you've drawn three zombies chasing it.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: And this is from... oh.

ZOE CRICK: Yeah, that's... Jamie, if you're listening, I think little Alison might need a hug. Or a very good therapist. Actually, probably both, unless you really have been reading the children the collected works of HP Lovecraft, in which case, well done, Alison! That does look exactly look like Shub-Niggurath, the Black Goat of the Woods.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Anyway, kiddos, this song's for you.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Now, we've heard that Runner Fifty-Three's found sixteen whole packets of rice krispies, so we thought it'd be fun to learn how to make rice krispie cakes! Apart from the rice krispies, you're going to need, uh... two ounces of unsalted butter. Yeah, that could be a problem. Do you think lard would do instead?

ZOE CRICK: How would I know? I once set fire to spaghetti. I don't mean I burned it. It was actually aflame.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Well, lard's fat, isn't it? And Abel's got a whole van full of it. Uh, let's say two ounces of lard. You're also going to need golden syrup, or honey if you haven't got golden syrup. And if you haven't got any honey, I suppose anything sweet will do. And then... yeah, the chocolate's going to be a problem as well.

ZOE CRICK: Instant coffee powder?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Don't be an idiot.

ZOE CRICK: But it is brown. And Runner Five just found a supermarket full of it.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: You know what, kiddos? Why don't you all just have a lovely bowl of rice krispies.

ZOE CRICK: Is there any milk?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: A lovely dry bowl of rice krispies.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It's the moment you've all been waiting for: question time. This was Jamie's idea. He got you to write down all those confusing things you don't understand, and we're going to explain them to you. Isn't that fun?

ZOE CRICK: Because, he says - and I quote – "It'll stop the little monsters asking me the same thing over and over and over again."

Our first question is from Jordan, and Jordan's asking, "Why is the sky blue?" Well, it's because the atmosphere refracts the different wavelengths of light, and -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It's because that's the color the unicorns painted it.

ZOE CRICK: It's – what?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: We all know it's the unicorns' job to paint the sky, and blue is their favorite color, Zoe. Next question.

ZOE CRICK: Right. Okay. Jasper wants to know where babies come from. That's easy. It's when two people have sex without protection -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: When a man gives a woman he loves a very special hug.

ZOE CRICK: Of course it is. Aaron's asking why mommy and daddy had to go away and leave him alone, Phil. Perhaps you'd like to answer that one, too. I'm sure unicorns must have been involved somehow. Rather than, you know, zombies.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: It's because sometimes bad things happen to good people, Aaron, and that's very sad. But your mommy and daddy loved you very, very much, and every time you smile, they'll be smiling right back at you from heaven.

ZOE CRICK: Yeah. That's right, Aaron. You listen to what Phil's telling you. He's not always as stupid as he sounds. Your mommy and daddy are watching over you, and they asked me to play this song specially for you.

[EUGENE WOODS and ZOE CRICK speak simultaneously]

EUGENE WOODS: Oh man, I love that song!

ZOE CRICK: Dear God, I hate that song!

[characters take turns speaking]

EUGENE WOODS: Oh, sorry.

ZOE CRICK: Hi. Sorry about that.

EUGENE WOODS: No, uh. No, it's uh... Jack's helping Janine with something, and uh...

ZOE CRICK: Yeah uh, Phil's out, too. Feeling a bit useless?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah.

ZOE CRICK: Yeah. [laughs] Me, too.

[EUGENE WOODS and ZOE CRICK speak simultaneously]

ZOE CRICK: So, uh -

EUGENE WOODS: Anyway -

[characters take turns speaking]

ZOE CRICK: [laughs] Again!

EUGENE WOODS: Sorry.

ZOE CRICK: It's weird how you just get into a rhythm, isn't it?

EUGENE WOODS: Totally! And you know, that gets thrown off really easily.

ZOE CRICK: Yeah.

EUGENE WOODS: I mean, Jack, he can be a real doofus, but...

ZOE CRICK: You two work well together, I'll give you that.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. Yeah, we do. And you and Phil?

ZOE CRICK: Well, he's an idiot, obviously.

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Yeah.

ZOE CRICK: But God help me, [laughs] I guess I'm stuck with him.

EUGENE WOODS: They're idiots, but they're our idiots.

ZOE CRICK: [giggles] Yeah. Maybe that should be the Fraternal Alliance's new motto.

EUGENE WOODS: Hey, how about a song?

ZOE CRICK: Yeah, sounds good.

EUGENE WOODS: Now, you may not know this one...

ZOE CRICK: Hey, that was actually all right.

EUGENE WOODS: Thanks. You know, I play base on that one.

ZOE CRICK: Seriously?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, but I got fired pretty soon afterwards. They couldn't handle how funky I was.

ZOE CRICK: That must have been hard on you.

EUGENE WOODS: No, I'm uh... I was joking. ... Oh.

ZOE CRICK: [laughs] Come on.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, okay.

ZOE CRICK: You know, we don't have our senses of humor surgically removed when we move into New Canton. I mean, I didn't. I can't speak for Phil.

EUGENE WOODS: No, no, I mean... Look. We sort of -

ZOE CRICK: - got off on the wrong foot?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. This hasn't been the easiest time for us, you know, and -

ZOE CRICK: - it didn't help that you came back to find someone else had been keeping your chairs warm.

EUGENE WOODS: No.

ZOE CRICK: It's not like we did it to spite you guys.

EUGENE WOODS: No, of course not. Listen, uh, I'll have a word with Jack, and you know, we'll try and give you guys a little bit more space in the future.

ZOE CRICK: Maybe we could do a show together sometime. [laughs] How badly wrong can it go?

EUGENE WOODS: Apocalyptically badly?

ZOE CRICK: Still, let's give it a shot.

EUGENE WOODS: If we can get Jack and Phil to behave.

ZOE CRICK: Apparently, miracles do happen. [laughs]

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] Yeah, all right. Time for a song?

ZOE CRICK: Sounds good. Here's one you might not have heard.

JACK HOLDEN: Okay. Now, we've been looking forward to playing these to you guys.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. When we asked you all to get in touch a while ago, we were really hoping this is what we'd get.

JACK HOLDEN: We're about to play you all a series of stories from other listeners to Radio Abel. Now, I think it's really important for us to tell our stories, to share them and understand what it was that we've all been through these past months.

EUGENE WOODS: It's part of the healing process.

JACK HOLDEN: Right, exactly! We can't accept our situation and cope with it unless we're able to talk about it.

EUGENE WOODS: It's how we'll understand everything that's happened.

JACK HOLDEN: Absolutely. So, we're going to play you a song, and then we'll be back with some tales from the road.

EUGENE WOODS: Stay safe, listeners.

JACK HOLDEN: Stay safe, guys.

GARRETT: Hey there, guys. Uh, I'm not exactly sure this transmission will go through. Eh, regardless, I have a quick story you two might enjoy. So the other day I was casually avoiding getting my calves bitten off and I came across an overrun and trashed bar. Needless to say, looked like some down-and-out survivors got a bit, well, drunk. I guess the end of the world would be a good time as any to take up the bottle, right? [laughs] Yeah.

Well anyway, uh, they weren't too lucky, and then about five minutes after scavenging the place, I was getting chased by wobbly, unbalanced zoms. Guess turning into a zombie doesn't exactly sober one -

JACK HOLDEN: - up.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, you got cut off there, Garrett. We hope you're all right.

JACK HOLDEN: Pretty great story, though. Did you ever see any drunk zoms, Gene?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, actually, just before we met. A group of rugby players near a tour coach. It was kind of creepy, though. They could barely stand, but every few seconds, one would manage to stagger to its feet, make a few steps towards me, and stumble and faceplant right back down again.

JACK HOLDEN: [laughs] Sounds hilarious to me.

EUGENE WOODS: It would have been, for sure, if it weren't for the tenacity of them, you know? Like the Terminator.

JACK HOLDEN: Mm. I see your point. Creepy.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. Thanks for reminding me of that, Garrett.

SAMANTHA: Hi, my name's Samantha. If you guys are looking for stories, I've got one for you. Back at the beginning, we were hiding out inside of this school. Wasn't so bad. There was still food, and we barricaded inside the gymnasium. Baseball bats: very handy.

Anyway, this once, one zom almost got in, up to the shoulder. We managed to lop it off and get the door shut again, but the arm... no one wanted to touch it. It just laid there. And I guess we'd started to lose it, because it became sort of a pet. We named it. Aces and Eights, because um, it was a dead man's hand. [laughs] Yeah, we... we definitely lost it.

JACK HOLDEN: Boom, boom!

EUGENE WOODS: [laughs] I love that joke.

JACK HOLDEN: It's a poker thing, right?

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah, a poker thing. I'll explain it later.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh great, I look forward to that turning into another tortuous bad beat story.

EUGENE WOODS: That? That is an essential part of any poker story.

JACK HOLDEN: I wish it wasn't. Anyway Samantha, great stuff. I hope you and Aces and Eights are still well.

EUGENE WOODS: Yeah. I hope you're not drawing dead.

JACK HOLDEN: I hate you.

[EUGENE WOODS laughs]

JENNY: Hi, Jack! Hi, Eugene! I just wanted to call up and say how much we all love your show. It's great to hear the radio playing again. Almost like the old days.

I'm Jenny. I was on holiday with my two girls up in the north at the time of the outbreak. We were staying in a log cabin in a holiday village. Someone must have got cut and bled into the swimming pool because virtually everyone in the place went down at the same time. We hadn't been using the pool because my youngest looked like she was going down with chicken pox, and we didn't want to infect anyone else. Ironic, eh? One minute we were in a holiday camp, next minute, a death camp, holed up in the restaurant kitchen with a few non-infected members of staff. Some holiday that was.

Um, if it's okay with you guys, I'd like to send a shoutout to my husband. Mark, if you're still out there somewhere, we're at your dad's old place. We're all fine. Missing you, though, obviously. Gabrielle's got her first wobbly tooth, and Anna's becoming a great cook. You'd be amazed at what she can do with some corned beef and lentils! Anyway, hope to see you again sometime. Love you.

EUGENE WOODS: Thanks for that, Jenny.

JACK HOLDEN: We're really glad you guys are safe.

EUGENE WOODS: Amen to that. Mark, if you're listening to this, buddy, you've got a wife and kids to get back to.

JACK HOLDEN: Yeah. And you'd better let us know how great Anna's cooking is when you get there. Corned beef and lentils sounds delicious.

EUGENE WOODS: Jenny, Gabrielle, Anna, we hope Mark hears your message, and that he finds his way back to you soon. Until then, stay safe out there, guys.

JACK HOLDEN: Stay safe.

JACK HOLDEN: Okay. Hi, guys. Um, I'm back, on my own, because apparently something was so bloody urgent that Eugene's had to barge out of here with no warning, so... that's great. Thanks, Gene. Sometimes... I don't know. It's just... never mind. Sorry.

[sighs] I'm a bit wired. Sorry. Uh, none of us are really getting much sleep around here at the moment, and you know, it's just a bit much. But as Eugene says, if we're suffering, someone else is getting a break. I always like that idea -

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Right. Test, test, one two... Test, test, two three... Two, two -

JACK HOLDEN: Three.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Jesus!

JACK HOLDEN: You're on air, idiot!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: What?

JACK HOLDEN: I'm broadcasting! We are live. And in our airtime, too, according to your precious rota.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: How was I supposed to know that? Zoe said I had to come in to fill some dead air while she was resting.

JACK HOLDEN: Well, that's just bloody great, isn't it? Dead air? I'll give her dead air!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh, what, you going to spend another two hours discussing which type of leaf is best for toilet paper? Better leave some [?] for the rest of us, Jack.

JACK HOLDEN: That was - ! I cannot believe - !

PHIL CHEESEMAN: What? Cannot believe that you have any listeners at all? Because neither can I.

JACK HOLDEN: You - ! You had... That's it. I'm getting the Major. I'm done!

ZOE CRICK: Right. We're back.

EUGENE WOODS: Hello, everyone.

ZOE CRICK: So, it appears that due to the inability of certain people to play well with others -

JACK HOLDEN: Hey!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: [?]

ZOE CRICK: Because of your blow-up on air, we've now all been issued an ultimatum.

EUGENE WOODS: Yes. It seems that neither the Major nor the Council take well to being pestered by – what was it?

ZOE CRICK: "The whinging complaints of some overgrown schoolchildren at a time like this." I think that was Janine, actually.

EUGENE WOODS: So, if we can't come to an agreement here, if we don't show that we can work together within the next five days, well, then...

ZOE CRICK: They're going to shut down the station and throw us all in the brig for a month.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Which is ridiculous.

JACK HOLDEN: Exactly.

ZOE CRICK: I don't know. I'd want to throw me in the brig if I'd been listening for the last few days. I say me, but really I mean Phil and Jack. I'm just trying to be tactful.

EUGENE WOODS: Yes. Zoe and I managed to work it out.

JACK HOLDEN: Oh, bully for you.

EUGENE WOODS: So - ! So, the two of you should be able to as well. We should be an example here, guys. An example of how we can work together as two communities. Because if we don't, then what the hell is the point in all this rebuilding? We'll just blow ourselves apart again once the zoms are gone.

JACK HOLDEN: Okay.

EUGENE WOODS: I'm sorry?

JACK HOLDEN: Okay.

EUGENE WOODS: Good. Thank you.

ZOE CRICK: Phil?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll give it a try.

ZOE CRICK: Good. Okay, listeners, so that's the situation. We've got a lot of work to do here, but we're going to try to get better at this. And we'll be back after this to explain how.

#zombies run #zrs2 #s2 radio #s2 radio part 2b #zr transcript

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