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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Dark”

Welcome back, everyone! Can you believe it's been six weeks already? I can't. Something something the uncomfortable passage of time during a pandemic as emphasized by a web-series.

But we're here to talk about RWBY the fictional story, not RWBY the cultural icon. At least, we will in a moment. First, I'd like to acknowledge that shaky line between the two, growing blurrier with every volume. A sort of good news, bad news situation.

The bad news — to get that out of the way — is that we cannot easily separate RWBY from its authors and those authors have, sadly, been drawing a lot of negative attention as of late. This isn't anything new, not at all, but I think the unexpectedly long hiatus gave a lot of fans (myself included) the chance to think about Rooster Teeth's failings without getting distracted by their biggest and brightest production. There's a laundry list of problems here — everything from the behavior of voice actors to the quality of their merch — but as a sort of summary issue, I'd like to highlight the reviews that continue to pop up on websites like Glassdoor, detailing the toxic, sexist, crunch-obsessed environment that RT employees are forced to work in. A lot of these websites requires a login to read more than a page of reviews, but you can check out a Twitter thread about it here.

Now, I want to be clear: I'm not bringing this up as a way to shame anyone enjoying RWBY. This isn't a simplistic claim of, "The authors are Problematic™ and therefore you can't like the stuff they produce." Nor is this meant to be a catch-all excuse for RWBY's problems. If it were, I'd have dropped these recaps years ago. I'm of the belief that audiences maintain the right to both praise and criticize the work they're given, regardless of the context in which that work was produced. At the end of the day, RT has presented RWBY as a finished product and, more than that, presents it as an excellent product, one worth both our emotional investment and our money (whether in the form of paying for a First account, or encouraging us to buy merch, attend cons, etc.) I'll continue to critique RWBY as needed, but I a) wanted fans to be at least peripherally aware of these issues and b) clarify that my use of "RT" in statements like, "I can't believe RT is screwing up this badly" is meant to be a broad, nebulas acknowledgement that someone in the company is screwing up, either creatively (doesn't have the skill to write a good scene) or morally (hasn't created an environment in which other creators are capable of crafting a good scene). The real, inner workings of such companies are mostly a secret to their audiences and thus it's near impossible for someone like me — random fan writing these for fun as a casual side hobby — to accurately point fingers. Hence, broad "RT." I just wanted to clarify that when I use this it's as a necessary placeholder for whoever is actually responsible, not a damnation of the overworked animator breaking down in a bathroom. Heavy stuff, but I thought it was necessary (or at least worthwhile) to acknowledge this issue as we head into the second half of the volume.

Now for the good news: RWBY has reached 100 episodes! For any who may not know, 100 is a pretty significant number in the TV world because, when talking about prime time programming, it guarantees syndicated reruns. Basically, networks don't want audiences to get burned out with a show — changing the channel when it comes on because ugh, I've seen this already, recently too — and 100 episodes allows for a roughly five month run without any repeats, making it very profitable. RWBY is obviously not a television show and doesn't benefit from any of this (hell, modern television doesn't benefit from this as much as it used to, not in the age of streaming), but the 100 episode threshold is still ingrained in American culture. Beyond just being a nice, rounded number, it is historically a measure of huge success and I can't imagine that RT isn't aware of that. Regardless of what we think of RWBY's current quality, this is one hell of a milestone and should be applauded.

All that being said... RWBY's quality is definitely still lacking lol.

Our 100th episode is titled "Dark" — keeping with the one word titles, then — and I'd like to emphasize that, as a 100th episode, it definitely delivers in terms of plot. There's plenty of action, important character beats, and at least one major reveal, everything we'd expect from a milestone and a Part II premiere. The animation also continues to be noteworthy for its beauty, as I found myself admiring many of the screenshots I took for this recap. There are certainly things to praise. The only problem (one we're all familiar with by now) is that these small successes are situated within a narrative that's otherwise falling apart. It's all good stuff... provided you ignore literally everything else surrounding it.

But let's dive into some examples. We open on Qrow starting, awoken by the thunder outside. Robyn has been watching him and makes a peppy comment about how none of them will be sleeping tonight, followed by a more serious, "Sounds bad out there." Yeah, it does sound bad, especially when they all know — thanks to Ruby's message back in Volume 7 — that this is due to Salem's arrival. I think a lot of the fandom has forgotten that little detail because people often discuss Qrow as if he is entirely ignorant of what is going on outside his cell. Even if we were to assume that he's forgotten all about the pesky Salem issue (the horror of Clover's death overriding everything else, perhaps) he still knows that Tyrian is running loose in a heat-less city with a creepy storm going on and, from his perspective, the Very Evil Ironwood is still running the show. So it's bad, which begs the question of why Qrow (and Robyn, for that matter) hasn't displayed an ounce of legitimate worry for everyone he knows out there. Thus far, their interactions have centered entirely around Qrow's misplaced blame and Robyn's terrible attempts to lighten the mood, despite the fact that a war is raging right beyond that wall. It's another example of RWBY's inability to manage tone properly, to say nothing of balancing the multiple concerns any one character should be trying to juggle. Just as it rankles that Ruby and Yang don't seem to care about what has happened to their uncle, Qrow likewise doesn't seem to care about what might be happening to his nieces. When did we reach a point where these relationships are so broken that someone can be arrested/chucked into a deadly battle and the others just... ignore that?

So Robyn's otherwise innocuous comment immediately reminds me of how badly the narrative has treated these conflicts and, sadly, things don't improve much from here. We are thankfully spared more of Robyn's jokes when Qrow realizes that what he's hearing can't be thunder. A second later, Cinder blasts through the wall — called it! — and Qrow instinctively transforms.

The only downside to this moment is that the whole ceiling falls down on Qrow and the others because APPARENTLY these cells don't have tops on them. Seriously. As far as I can recall we don't see the stone breaking through the forcefield somehow and this looks pretty open to me.

If it is... you're telling me these crazy powerful fighters who practice landing strategies and leap tall buildings in a single bound —

— can't just hop over this mildly high electric fence to get out? Qrow can't just fly away?

We're, like, two minutes in, folks.

We transfer to Nora's perspective as she wakes up, seeing Klein giving her the IV. He tells her not to worry, that "you and your friend are going to be just fine." What friend? Penny? Klein went upstairs prior to Weiss hugging Whitley or Penny crash landing outside. I had thought them bursting through the door with another unconscious friend was the first time he learned what the big bang outside was, but apparently not.

Penny is, obviously, a mess. While I now understand the choice to make her blood such an eye-catching color when that's crucial to the Hound's hunt, I still think it looks strange visually. Like someone has taken a copy of RWBY and painted over it. It doesn't look like it fits the art style. More than that, it implies some rather complicated things about Penny's humanity, especially in a volume focused around her being a "real girl." Real enough for Maiden powers, but with obviously inhuman blood that isn't even referred to as "bleeding." Penny "leaks" instead.

Toss in the fact that she's literally an android who is made up of tech — recall the running gags about her being heavy, or it hurts to fist-bump her, to say nothing of keeping things like multiple blades inside her body — yet Klein says that her "basic anatomy" is the same and he can "stitch up that wound."

I'm sorry, what? Whatever Penny looks like on the inside, it's not going to resemble a human woman's anatomy, and Klein might be able to stitch the outer layer of skin she's got, but that won't do anything to fix whatever metal bits have been broken underneath. Penny isn't a human-robot hybrid, she's a robot with an aura. Penny has knives in her back, rockets in her feet, and a super computer behind her eyes. When our clip introduced that Klein would be the one to help Penny, my initial reaction was, "Seriously? He's a butler and a doctor and an engineer?" But RWBY didn't even try to get away with a Super Klein explanation, they just waved away Penny's very obvious, inhuman anatomy. Yeah, I'm sure "stitching up" an android wound is just like giving Nora her IV. I hope the surgical sutures he used are extra strong!

In an effort to not entirely drag this episode, I do appreciate that Whitley is allowed an "ugh" moment about the non-blood covering his shirt without anyone calling him out on it. That felt like the sort of thing the show would usually try to make a character feel guilty about and I'm glad that, for once, he was just allowed to be frustrated without comment.

Then the power goes out and May calls, which raises questions about what state the CCTS is in and when scrolls are available to our protagonists vs. when they're not. But whatever. She's checking in because she just "saw another bombing run light up the Kingdom" and —

Wait. Bombing? Salem is bombing the city? I know we've seen explosions in the sky, but I'd always just attributed that to evil aesthetic. Why does this dialogue sound like it's from a World War II film and not a fantasy sci-fi show about literal monsters launching a ground attack?

May looks pretty against the sky though. I like her hair color against that purple.

I'm admittedly grasping at positives here because we finally return to her "You have to choose" ultimatum and — surprise! — May has pulled back completely. Ruby says that once they've helped Penny, "We'll...we'll do something!" which is once again her avoiding making a decision. Ruby still refuses to choose, instead falling back on generic, optimistic pep talks. They'll figure out how to stop Salem later. They'll think about the impact of telling the world later. They'll choose who to help later. Ruby keeps pushing these problems into the future where, she hopes, a perfect, magical solution will have appeared for her to latch onto. When that continues to not happen, others pressuring her to actually do something and stop waiting for perfection — Ironwood, Yang, May — she panics and continues stalling for time. Wait an episode and the narrative supports her in this.

Because initially May was forcing Ruby to decide. Now, May enables her desire to keep putting things off. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. At this point, I don't know how much is left to be done." That's the exact opposite of what May believed last episode, that there was still so much work and good to do for the people of Mantle. This is precisely what the show did with Yang and Ren's scenes too, having people call Ruby out... but then return to a message of, 'Don't worry, you're actually doing just fine' before Ruby is forced to actually change.

None of which even touches on May calling her "kid" in this moment. That continues to be a convenient way of absolving Ruby of any responsibility. When she wants to steal airships or Amity Tower, she's an adult everyone should listen to, the leader of this war. When the story wants to absolve her of previously mentioned flaws, she becomes a kid who shouldn't "beat herself up." I said years ago that RWBY couldn't continue to let the group be both children and adults simultaneously, yet here we are.

So that was a thoroughly disappointing scene. Ruby gets her moment to look sad and defeated, listing "the grimm, the crater, Nora, Penny" as problems she doesn't know how to solve. Note that 'Immortal witch attacking the city I've helped trap here' isn't included in that list. Ruby is still ignoring Salem herself and no one in the group is picking up where May left off, challenging her to do more than wring her hands over things others are already trying to take care of: Ironwood is fighting the grimm, May has gone off to help the crater, Klein is patching up Nora and Penny. Ruby, as one flawed individual, should not be expected to come up with a solution to everything, but she does need to stop acting like she can come up with a solution to everything when it matters most (office scene) and rejecting others' solutions when they ask for her help (Ironwood, May).

If it feels like I'm dragging the flawed, traumatized teenager too much, it's not in an effort to ignore those aspects of her identity. Rather, it's because she's also the licensed huntress who wrested control from a world leader and violently demanded she be put in charge of this battle. Ruby, by her own actions, is now responsible for dealing with these problems, or admitting she was wrong and letting others take the lead, without purposefully derailing their plans. She doesn't get to suddenly go, "I don't know," cry a little, and get sympathetic pats.

But of course that's precisely what happens, courtesy of Weiss.

During this whole scene I kept wondering why no one was celebrating Nora waking up, especially when Ruby outright mentions her. Have they just not noticed given all the Penny drama? Because Nora absolutely woke up.

Aaaand went back to sleep, I guess. What was the point of that POV shot? No worries though, she'll wake up again in a minute.

Willow arrives and announces that they can fix the power (and Penny) using the generator at the edge of the property. I'm convinced RT doesn't actually know what a generator is because the characters are acting like it's some super special device that only richy-rich could possibly have. Whitley says that it's the SDC executives who have their "own power supply" and that it's "extremely unfair." Now, don't get me wrong, a good generator powering large portions of your house can run you 30k+, but you can also get one that plugs into your extension cord and powers your fridge for a couple hundred. There's absolutely a class issue here, just not the one Whitley and Weiss seem to be commenting on. They make a generator sound like the sort of device that only a politician-CEO could possible have and it's weird.

Likely, it sounds weird because it's a choppy way of getting Whitley to bring up the wealth disparity so he can then go, 'That's right! We're crazy rich with a company housing tons of ships! We can use those to evacuate Mantle.' Awkwardness aside, I do like that the Schnee wealth is being used for good purposes, but... evacuate where? To the city currently under attack by a giant whale? In a RWBY that wasn't determined to demonize Ironwood, this would have been a great plot point during the office scene instead, with Weiss offering her services to Ironwood, even if the group decides that a continued evacuation still isn't possible.

Instead, we get it here from Whitley. Do I need to point out the obvious? That Whitley is the MVP of this episode? He's done more good in an HOUR than the group has managed in a year. Give this kid some training and make him a huntsmen instead.

We're given a (very pretty!) shot of the shattered moon because it wouldn't be RWBY if we weren't continually reminded that gods once wiped out humanity before destroying part of a celestial body... and absolutely no one talks about that lol.

Blake's coat might not make any sense for her color scheme, but it does make her easy to spot as she and Ruby run across the grounds. Oh my god, they're actually doing something together! It only took eight years. They even get a lovely talk where Blake admits how much she looks up to Ruby, despite her being younger, and once again I'm struck at how much more I would have loved this scene if it had appeared elsewhere in the series. It is, indeed, as sweet and emotional as all the RWBY GIF-ers are claiming... provided you overlook that this is the exact opposite of what Ruby needs to hear right now. She doesn't need to hear that she's more mature and reliable than her elders when she's functioning under a "We don't need adults" mentality. She doesn't need to hear that not knowing what to do is totally fine, not when that led to her turning on Ironwood, despite not knowing how to stop Salem. She doesn't need to hear that "doing something" — doing anything — is a strength, because Ruby keeps avoiding the big problems for smaller ones she's comfortable with, like standing by Penny's bedside instead of deciding between Mantle and Atlas. Blake's speech is heartfelt, but it's a speech that suits a Beacon days Ruby who is having some doubts about her leadership skills, not the girl whose impulsive — and now lack of — actions is having world-wide repercussions. Everyone is babying Ruby to a staggering degree. It's like if we had a med show where the doctor is standing by the bedside of a coding patient, fretting between two treatments. 'Don't worry,' their colleague says, patting their shoulder. 'I've always looked up to you. You'll do something when you're ready' and then they continue to watch the patient, you know, die.

Also: who does Ruby look up to? Everyone talks about how much they depend on and trust Ruby, but who does Ruby look to for guidance? A number of her problems stem from the fact that she has rejected the advice of everyone who has tried to help her improve: Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, even Yang. Ruby is presented as the pinnacle of what to strive for in a leader, rather than a leader who has only been doing this for two years and still has a great deal to learn.

Anyway, they get the generator on and the Hound shows up.

I am begging RT to just make RWBY a horror story. All their best scenes the last three years have been horror I am bEGGING —

Anyway, while Ruby waits to be eaten we cut to Willow and Klein, the former of which is reaching for her bottle, pulling back, reaching again, all while her hand shakes. This is good. This is what we should have gotten with Qrow. Which isn't to say that their (or anyone's) addiction should be identical, but rather that this is a far more engaging and complex look at addiction than what our birb got. Willow tells us that she doesn't drink in the dark despite bringing the bottle with her; tries to resist drinking when she's scared and ultimately fails. Qrow just decided to stop drinking after decades of addiction, seemingly for no reason, and that was that. Why is a side character we only met this volume written better than one of the main cast?

Blake manages to call Weiss about the Hound and she asks if Whitley can handle the airships without her. I mean, I assume so given that Weiss is looking at the bookshelves while Whitley does all the work lol. He makes a teasing comment about how he can if she can handle that grimm and she comments that they still need to work on his "attitude."

No they don't. Weiss stuck a weapon in her kid brother's face. Whitley made a joke. Even if Weiss' comment is likewise meant to be read as teasing, it's clear that we've bypassed any meaningful conversation between them. That hug was supposed to be a Fix Everything moment even though, as I've laid out elsewhere, it didn't even come close.

We cut back to Ruby getting thrown through a wall into the backyard and the Hound creepily coming after her. She's freaked out by this clearly abnormal grimm and Blake is weirdly... not? "It's just a grimm. Just focus!" Uh, it's obviously not. Have we reached the traumatized, sleep-deprived point where the group is sinking into full-blown denial? I wouldn't be surprised. They've been awake for like... 40+ hours.

Because the Hound knocks Ruby out with a single hit. Just, bam, she's down. "Focusing" is not the solution here.

Weiss calls to warn the others about the grimm, telling them to stick together. Willow (understandably) starts freaking out and flees the room (classic horror trope!). Klein is left alone when Penny wakes up with red eyes. Oh no!

Don't worry. You know nothing meaningful happens.

She shoves Klein before (somehow?) resisting the hack, her Maiden powers going wild in the process. Just when it looks as if Penny might cause some serious damage, Nora wakes up, takes her hand, and says, I kid you not:

"Hey... no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do... It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest."

Okay. I want to re-emphasize that I love hopeful, uplifting, victory-won-through-the-power-of-love stories. Istg I'm not dead inside, it's just that RWBY does this so badly. I mean, what is this? It has similarities to the character shouting, 'No! Resist!' to their mind-controlled ally, but this is not presented as a desperate, last-ditch effort by Nora. She just speaks like this is the most obvious truth in the world. If you don't want to have your mind taken over... just don't! It's that simple. The problem definitely isn't that Watts has changed her coding and has implemented a command she can't override, it's that Penny has forgotten about the "rest" of her personhood.

And this works. Granted, not for long, but we leave Nora having successfully calmed Penny down and until her eyes unexpectedly go red again scenes later, we're left assuming that this is a permanent solution. That, imo anyway, is taking the Power of Love too far, overriding the basic reality of Penny being hacked. It’s not a personal failing she must overcome, it’s an external attack. I would have rather had Nora react to the scars she saw on her arm, or have a moment with Klein, or get some love from the group. Not a wakes up, falls asleep, wakes up again to save Penny with a Ruby level 'Just ignore reality' pep-talk, then back to sleep again.

So Penny isn't attacking her allies, or mistakenly hurting her allies with wild Maiden powers. Not that the group doesn't have enough to deal with, but still. Weiss arrives to help with the Hound and attempts a new summon, only to fail when two minor grimm burrow up into her glyphs. I really enjoyed that moment, both for the wing visual and the knowledge that Weiss' glyphs can fail if you break them somehow (which makes sense). Also, I just like that she failed in general? Weiss is, as per usual now, about to demonstrate just how OP she is compared to the rest of the team, so it was nice to see her faltering here.

The Hound tries to make off with Ruby and Blake does an excellent job of keeping it tethered. Ruby finally wakes, only to realize that the grimm is actually after Penny since it's staring at her power up through the window, no longer trying to escape. Moments like this remind me that there's someone on RT's writing team that knows what they're doing, at least some of the time. The assumption that the Hound is after Ruby as a SEW, the surprise that it's actually Penny, realizing it holds up because Ruby is covered in Penny's blood and Blake is not... that's all nice, tight plotting. More of that please!

The Hound drops her and Ruby's aura shatters when she hits the ground. I want everyone to remember this moment as an example of how strong the Hound is. The group may be tired, but unlike YJR they've been sitting around in the Schnee manor for a number of hours, regaining strength. We saw the Hound hit Ruby twice — once through the wall and once to knock her out — and then she falls from a not very high distance for a huntress, yet her aura is toast. That's the level of power and skill the Hound possesses. Decimating YJR, knocking Oscar out, same for Ruby, avoiding Blake and Weiss' hits, soon to treat Penny like a ragdoll. Just remember all this for the episode's end.

Blake tells Weiss she'll take care of Ruby, you go help the others. Yay breaking up the duos more! Bad timing though as the new acid-spitting grimm pops out of the ground and Blake is now left alone to face it.

Weiss re-enters the mansion, knowing the Hound is somewhere nearby, but not where. Suddenly, Willow's voice sounds through her scroll with an, "Above you!" which... doesn't keep Weiss from getting hit lol. But it's the thought that counts! Willow has accessed the cameras she's set up throughout the manor, watching the Hound's movements, and I have to say, that is a WAY better use of her separation from Klein than I thought we were getting. I legit thought they'd have Willow run away in a panic, meet the Hound, die, and then Weiss could be sad about losing her mom.

It does say something about RWBY's writing that this was my knee-jerk theory, as well as my surprise when we got something way better.

The Hound runs off, uninterested in Weiss, and she asks Willow to keep tabs on it. It heads for Whitley next (also covered in Penny's blood) and very creepily stalks him in the office with a, "I know you're here." Whitley is seconds away from being Hound chow before one of Weiss' boars pin it against the wall. He runs, then runs BACK to finish deploying the airships, before finally escaping assumed death. Goddamn this boy is pulling his weight.

I assume all these ships are automated then? I hope someone takes a moment to call May. Otherwise it's going to be super weird for the Mantle citizens if a fleet of SDC ships just show up and hover there...

I don't entirely understand how Weiss saved him though. She's nowhere to be seen when Whitley leaves and he runs a fair distance before he and Willow encounter Weiss again. We know her summons don't have to keep right next to her, but are they capable of rudimentary thought, attacking an enemy — and an enemy only — despite Weiss being a couple corridors down and unable to see the current battlefield? I don't know. In another series I'd theorize that this was a deliberate hint, a way to clue us into the fact that Willow, someone who we currently know almost nothing about, had training in the past and summoned the boar herself. Weiss and Winter certainly didn't get that hereditary skill from Jacques. Hell, we might still get that, Weiss reacting with confusion next episode when Whitley thanks her for the boar, but I doubt it. That scene with Ruby and the Hound aside, the show isn't this good at laying groundwork and then following up on it.

Case in point: Weiss says, "I didn't forget you" to Whitley after he gets away from the Hound, the moment trying to harken back to her promise to Willow. Key word is "trying." Because she absolutely forgot him! Weiss threatened and ignored Whitley until he proved his usefulness. I also shouldn't need to point out that, "Don't forget your brother" does not mean, "Don't let your brother die a horrible death by abnormal grimm." Weiss acts like her saving him is a fulfillment of her promise, rather than just the most basic of human decency. And also, you know, her job.

So that part is frustrating. The entire Schnee dynamic is a mess, from Weiss making a joke of her father's arrest, to Willow (presumably) fixing their relationship by putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Okay.

Then Weiss cuts off the Hound by summoning a giant wall of ice. My brain, every time this happens:

YOU COULD HAVE FIXED THE HOLE IN MANTLE'S WALL.

Moving on, Blake's fight against the acid... thing has some great choreography, including Blake using her semblance which we haven't seen in AGES.

I really like the fight itself, just not what Blake is shouting the whole time. "I need you, Ruby! We all need you!" This has really gotten ridiculous. Ruby is presented as everyone's sole savior despite failing time and time again. It's not that I don't think Blake as a character should have faith in her leader, it's that I don't think the writers should be crafting a story where everyone puts their unshakable hopes in an untrained, disloyal, impulsive 17 year old. I mean, Ruby is currently unconscious, yet Blake is acting like if she doesn't wake up — she, as an individual, if Ruby Rose does not re-join this fight — then all is lost. If Ruby doesn't save them, no one can. Which is, of course, absurd on numerous levels. Blake doesn't need the passed out, aura-less Ruby right now, she needs the still very healthy Weiss pulling out multiple summons and an ice wall! Use your scroll and call for backup again.

But of course, Ruby wakes up and kills the new, terrifying grimm with a single hit. It's a preview of what's to come with the Hound and it's just as ridiculous here as it will be there.

Speaking of the Hound, am I the only one who thought this was... cute?

I can't possibly be the only one. That head-tilt is exactly what my dogs do and my brain instinctively went, "Aww, puppy!"

Murderous puppy.

The Hound realizes none of the Schnees are who it's looking for and runs off. Penny, meanwhile, has been fully taken over because, well, that's just what's convenient now. She resists long enough keep Amity up, then succumbs, then resists to apologize to Ruby, then succumbs, then resists because Nora asked her to, then succumbs once it's time to knock her out. If RWBY was willing to commit to consequences, Penny would have been taken over and that was that. The characters would need to deal with whatever outcome happens as a result. Instead, the show very carefully avoids any of those pesky consequences by having Penny successfully resisting at key moments, despite no explanation of how she's managing that.

She shoves Klein again (Klein is having a Bad Time) and starts walking down the main steps. When Whitley wants to know where the hell she's going, Penny mechanically responds that she must "Open the vault, then self-destruct." I suppose the change Watts made was the self-destruct order? Ironwood obviously wants the vault open, though not necessarily Penny's death. Think what you will of his moral compass, she's a damn powerful ally — a research project, perhaps — and a Maiden to boot. At the very least, her death may give the powers to someone even worse.

God, please don't let them have brought Penny back and made her a Maiden just to kill her again.

The Hound arrives though and, as said, knocks Penny out. We're back to square one with her, then. Note though that this attack is near instantaneous. She grabs its hands one second, is hanging limply the next. Wow, the Hound sure is a terrifying antagonist!

Not for long.

"That's enough," Ruby says and one-shots it with her eyes.

Now, I want to talk for a moment about the implications of that line. "That's enough." Obviously Ruby is #done with this situation and emotionally unwilling to let the Hound kidnap Penny (congratulations, Nuts and Dolts shippers), but there's a meta reading here as well. Not intentional, but glaring to me nonetheless. Basically, the idea that the Hound has, from a plot perspective, done enough. It has served its singular purpose. It kidnapped Oscar and now it dies. Never-mind how insanely powerful we've established the Hound to be, never-mind how Ruby's eyes also work or don't work according to whether anything of actual import is on the line. From a plot perspective "that's enough" and the Hound can be disposed of instantly. It got Oscar and gave us an episode of filler creepiness. Move along now.

The idea behind Ruby's eyes isn't bad, but the execution absolutely is. RT has undermined a huge portion of the stakes by giving their protagonist an instant kill-shot that always works precisely when she needs it to. Starting with the Apathy, we have yet to get a moment where Ruby's eyes fail to save the day when she really needs them to, no matter how incredible the challenge. The Hound was very intentionally written to be a grimm outside of the group's current power level. It thinks, it talks, they literally can't touch it. This creates the expectation that the group will need to grow stronger — or at least become smarter — in order to surmount this new obstacle, yet Ruby's eyes undermine all of that. The group hasn't grown in years, the show just makes enemies weaker as needed (Ace Ops), or has Ruby pull out her eyes as a trump card. It wouldn't be that bad if we'd at least gotten a good battle out of it, one where the group gets close to defeating the Hound on their own, but needs Ruby's eyes to finish it off. Instead, she literally walks up without any aura, announces to the audience that this antagonist's time is up, and blasts it out a window.

Granted, Ruby's eyes don't completely finish it. The Hound pulls itself to its feet and we see this.

Yup, that's a guy and yup, those are silver eyes.

I would like to issue a formal apology to the "It's secretly Summer!" theorists in the fandom. I mean, I still think it would be ridiculous (and at this point highly improbable) that Ruby's dead mother has actually been a grimm mutant this whole time, just hanging out in Salem's realm while she waits for the plot to start before attacking the world, and then sends some no-name faunus dude after the group instead of their leader's mother for extra, emotional torture... but you all were definitely right about the “It's a person” part! I... don't know how I feel about this. Admittedly, it seems to be a logical continuation of the other grimm-human hybrids we've seen — namely Cinder and Salem herself — and it finally explains why Salem wants Ruby alive (even though it actually doesn't because WHY did she want more SEWs for Hound grimm when she wasn't even attacking back then? And already has all these other insanely powerful tools??), but at the same time, it feels like it's complicating a story that doesn't need further complications. The group fights monsters and has an immortal enemy. You don't need to add 'Some of those monsters are secretly human' to the mix.

It doesn't hurt that this twist is giving me Attack on Titan vibes, which, ew. A dark time in my fandom life, folks.

The Hound staggers a few steps before Whitley and Willow dump a suit of armor on it. That's all it takes to kill the most dangerous grimm we've ever seen: a single flash of silver eyes and some heavy metal. This also wreaks havoc with the implication that Salem wants SEWs alive because they create such powerful grimm. Obviously not. I mean yeah, normal huntsmen are going to have serious problems, we’ve seen that this volume, but any other SEWs nearby will take a Hound out instantaneously. For a villain with so many other powerful abilities — immortality, magic, endless normal grimm, her nifty soup — Salem would be much better served just killing SEWs straight out. Clearly, creating Hounds isn't worth the effort.

The Hound leaves some bones behind and Ruby collapses to her knees, overcome with the knowledge that this was once a person. Again, uncomfortable Attack on Titan parallels.

We finish our premiere with Cinder clearing away rubble to reveal Watts. Honestly, I like that we ended on this because her rescue is hilarious. She just slings him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes and blasts off with her magic fire feet. Fantastic.

Note though that with this scene we've seen almost everything from the clip and the trailer. What's to come in the rest of Volume 8? No idea. Outside of Winter leading the charge with the bomb, we got it all here.

Time to update the bingo board!

I'm crossing off "Introducing new grimm that are quickly abandoned." Between the Hound and acid-dude both falling to a single blast/cut from Ruby, we've more than earned this square.

It doesn't look as if we'll get another Watts-Jacques team-up now that he's left, but you never know.

Maria's got me worried. I feel like her Yoda fight against Neo is the one thing she'll be allowed to do this volume, but given that we didn't see anyone except Ruby's group this episode, we don't yet know whether the story is now ignoring her and Pietro, or if they'll re-appear in another episode like YJR.

Qrow is free. Will he get a drink before trying to murder Ironwood? Perhaps.

Still no bingo :(

All in all, the episode was by no means horrible. I think there were lots of horrible parts, but also some legitimately well executed moments, fun action, and scenes that I can easily imagine as squee worthy if you lean back and squint. Everything is comparative and in the growing collection of bad RWBY episodes, this one isn't securing a top slot. Which doesn't mean I think it's good, just... not as bad as it could have been and primarily only bad due to long-running problems, not things this specific episode has done. That's my bar then, so low it has officially entered the underworld.

Still, RWBY is back and a part of me is eager to see where this volume takes us, for better or for worse.

Until next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby dark

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gvaf-radio-blog · 5 years

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I was laying in bed trying to not think about the rejection when the crying fit started, normally it goes away after a bit but this welled up and I felt an emotion like onto a rage induced tornado surging through me and I pounded the floor screaming like I lost a limb to a bear trap and started to pray to God, keep in mind I am a Satanist, to either help me find a way to get the love of my life back or to give me the means to end my life. Satan was very understanding but reminded me to call them first next time since Satan never told me I was damned for being born pansexual and they did turn me on to better fashion and literature, sorry Satan.

It had been going on like this for the better part of July and there were several things going on in my life at the time one of those was a firm belief that I had grown too old, too fat, too broken to be any use to anyone other than to make others feel better and be target practice for the Russian Cupidi who seems very intent on making others fall in love with me on the other side of the continent, little fuckers have surprisingly deep laughs I found out . There was a person I was convinced was the love of my life because they seemed to understand me, never made unreasonable demands of me ( I thought) and to put it simply we could not be in a room alone ever. We worked well together in fact each time we would meet it ended in us kissing and tearfully saying I love you to each other while holding each other head to head crying. Everytime I heard a slight Russian tinged laugh. We were for a short time had an almost family, an almost family is where things are just off and need adjustments. I wanted tp make us a full family badly I wanted this family to happen because these kids were at one time treated like mine own, I am a simple and boring man except for the Cupidi and a stalker with cat ears who keeps leaving dead birds on my front stoop.

So yes I was that fool everyone has laughed at in a heart break fueled misery that pop songs and movies lie to us and say “ AH but tis only the third act! The two distant lovers will be reunited and the love song with start after the credits”. I want to start rounding up the con artist that make a living by filling empty headed children with these notions of true love or that love conquers all and sodomize them with live lobsters. I don’t want to violate ethically challenged people with shellfish everyday, just on those days when I have to deal with the doll eyed masses, ok so basically every day I was trying to give myself the benefit of the doubt. The Ex had asked me if the reason I wanted to get back together was because they were a “sure thing” I told her that they were really a long shot but if I didn’t try then I couldn’t live with myself. Fast forward a few weeks and several insulting explanations later and I am now turning over all the reasons I am broken goods and that I should not rise above my station because I deserve to be alone, i’m scum, I’m why baby jesus cries and milk spoils when I walk into the room. I started taking pot shots at the local Cupidi with my compound bow but it was hard to aim with eyes full of tears and the edible kicking in finally. I don’t know how to say fuck you in Russian but I think I know the sound of the word.

Next we find me red eyed muttering some gibberish that’s been fueled by what I would find out later to be a suspected mental illness that is only half way being treated with medication and therapy. To give you a funny and disturbing visual. After not eating or sleeping for several days I looked like what could be described as a cross between a fat Reinfeld and a goth George Costanza , or Meatloaf on a bad day. I give you options for your visuals, am I not merciful?

It’s now sometime between one and five A.M and I am looking up the price of the least expensive .45 handgun because I’m poor and I’ll be getting some extra money soon because I turn thirty nine in a week I do not want to be thirty nine so I start looking for american style solutions, happy fucking birthday. I chose this caliber because having some medical training and studying the wonderful world of trauma I got to see in full detail what a self inflicted head wound looks like and what a person's life is when the bullet doesn’t take enough grey matter. I didn’t want to be alive then I sure as hell didn’t want to live as a joke character from a Garth Ennis story so I was going to get a bigger bullet . America, fuck yeah.

so I started to make my final birthday plan and feel at peace with having my last ride of Clove’s, bourbon and a good pub hamburger then, Tchüess. BANG! Obviously I didn’t buy the gun to end my misery and embarrassment as my brain was telling me I needed, because instead my brain going into OH FUCK mode was throwing everything it had at me to save the ship. Then it hit pay dirt. I rediscovered a natural emotional energy that put my mind into a laser focus clearing the fog and lies away just enough to stop my self destruction and restart the rebuilding I began in the winter. The emotional energy that saved me from turning my head into goo goes by the name of pure fucking spite.

I realized that my idiocy levels had reached a critical mass when the Cupidi in hazmat suits who seem to be , in Russian , bitching about extracting me to go get recharged . They came down to take me back to a containment unit that will refill my cynicism back to optimal and lethal fuck off capacity. After my IV of coffee and Monster™ grape was removed I was set loose again into the wilds of Southeast Portland to reconnect my brain with seething hatred that I somehow misplaced my hatred during the heartache attack between Southeast Division and Southeast Clinton street where I was bludgeoned with a baseball bat by the woman who was wearing cat ears. I was on a time limit because I had to do this quickly and retract my steps before my appointment with a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner at two P.M later that day. I managed to find my hatred , my senses and a new found desire to attack any human with those fucking anime cat ears on their head and entered the office and was treated like a human being not a Cro Magnon sociopath who might try to kill people on the train, it was a nice change of pace honestly.

We talked about my past trauma and some of the diagnosis that where off base and some that came close to the mark but the main thing we talked about was the depression, the depression that had me looking for a gun as a treatment plan. This Nurse Practitioner pinpointed everything that I had to hide from others or train myself not to do in less than thirty minutes, Let me give you a bit of perspective.

Most of the mental health professionals I worked with in the past used a method I call flow chart counseling, example:

Therapist sees me walk into the door, therapist will ask if I drink if yes how many drinks in a week, if no move on to the next question. Therapist: Mister Cromag do you drink?

Me: yeah, I like a good beer, or wine I take a shinning to good bourbons as well.

“Therapist now flows to follow up questions”

Therapist: How many drinks per week?

Me: Well, I like to have a drink that pairs with my dinner and some weekends I’ll have a bit more during games or socialization depending on who’s around.

“Therapist now moves down to alcoholism”

Therapist: how long have you been an alcoholic?

Me: I’m sorry what?

Therapist: You binge drink Mister Cromag, more than four drinks per week means substance abuse.

Me: No it means I like the taste of a stout. “Moves down the chart to denial”

Therapist: We need to find you an addiction specialist.

Me: You think my drinking is bad, wait until I tell you about my porn collection.

After that exchange I was referred to a physical therapist to help with carpal tunnel and after a traumatized therapist had to call security all while frantically trying to find a flowchart for the psychotically horny they made a suggestion about me having an Oedipus complex.

So you now see what I mean, a lot of professionals never got to the heart of it and there are other stories where I’ve had the professionals all but sneer at me when my symptoms are presented. So this Nurse Practitioner was a nice change of pace and with the discussion about my issues, what I thought I might have been dealing with (sometimes people see that I do have some form of intelligence and not just hit thing with club real hard unga bunga) we then worked out what medication I needed to treat the thing I was dreading, being diagnosed with Bipolar 1.

Bipolar and ADHD share many of the same characteristics and as I’ve learned if you have one the other is more than likely there it just needs to be screened for. Bipolar is also a hereditary form of mental illness which makes it a bit unique where others are mostly trauma induced but Bipolar just kinda waits for something to happen and when nothing does it creates its own fun. To add to this good time Bipolar is classified as a “mood disorder” your highs are hyperactive boarderlining and often going into a full true manic state of mind and body, not nearly as fun as it sounds. Then the lows are soul crushing affairs that amplify the depression and then takes the lies you brain tells you and creates a story based on people around you, your fears, past trauma and then makes you this poisoned lullaby cake that tastes like candy feels like medicine until you fall to your knees paralyzed and the fangs sink into your back and you see too late what is having you for dinner tonight.

So that’s a quick and blurry on Bipolar 2, I have Bipolar 1 which means I get all of that plus the added fun of hallucinations, and not the type Terrence Mckenna taught us about. These are things that just manifest as if they are real life like if you were in a film and it was edited without warning and in this new situation you now have to improvise a reality, any reality, this is why I take *drugs prescribed and other. The other issue is that it feels like my memories get remixed and things that happened now have a new twist, a paranoid hurtful twist. Good example of this is when I was making a terminal wishlist and believed that there were people who truly wanted me to die because I interpreted their actions as malicious. Another example is I was walking home to the apartments around ten or twelve years ago, I was walking home at the time with groceries and when I got through the front door there was construction going on at the apartment above me. I sleep days and at best i’ll get four hours due to shit employer, new born child, a girlfriend that was Sybil the next generation who completely refused to get treatment because she was a psych major and thought she was the heroin to overcome all odds in a lifetime movie. So on top of this my mental illness is not in check, no insurance and if I mention medication at work I could get fired.

I wish this was a part I made up but I mentioned I was on antidepressants at one time and they removed me from two positions back to entry level until I got clean off celexa, Not allowed to do the fun drugs and then punished for using the boring ones no idea why I stayed there for eight and a half years.

Back to the construction, I get home try to put my groceries away and one of the workers says he needs to do something in the bedroom I tell him to get bent , he calls me a fat fuck and I proceed to beat him bloody! Except it never happened, I woke up beating my fist bloody onto the tiled floor of the kitchen where I had started to put away my groceries until I jumped into this other reality, I’m just happy the kid wasn’t home because it might have scared her and made her cry and knowing I made her cry hurts the worst, I would have attempted that second suicide earlier. This freaked me out I’ve never had an hallucination like this I was scared, when I told then girlfriend hoping to get support or at least pointed in the direction on where to look she labeled me a schitzophrentic started talking to me as if I was going to flip out and that I was even more dangerous. I let that turn around in my head for years thinking that this was the linchpin to me being broken and with the way she talked to me I believed I didn’t deserve help. This was one of the main reasons I had to kill myself after she took my daughter away.

Like a few million other miserable , confused people out there I didn’t know a blessed thing about what was happening, I remembered the mental abuse and emotional abuse from the church, and some had argued physical and neglectful abuse I recieved at the hands of my family or my mother’s husbands who told my mother to no provide for me but instead buy him a new toy car. My step sister who somehow hates the knot headed reprobate more than I do stole his precious camaro and rear ended a Semi. After learning she was ok I fell on the floor laughing because all I could think about was this NASCAR addicted stunted man child calling his mommy to whine about a broken toy, to add to this mental image he was wearing a blue jean diaper and clutching a plush Richard Petty teddy bear.

There’s more but I don’t feel the need to talk about school bus drivers and me losing memory of one full year of my life, bullying at the hands of adults and children alike. I feel like that would be redundant and unfortunately all too common a story I’ve heard from so many people in my life, friends, lovers , coworkers the fucking homeless people who talk with me after I give them beer money. Leaving some of the genetic issues aside you bastards need to understand how wide spread some of these traumas are for fuck sake my motley of misfits are all walking trauma case studies and instead of getting help YOU people ridiculed them, or gave them the greatest useless sentence in the english language which is :

“Just get over it.”

Do you know what I would like to see? I want to see all of us survivors roaming the streets like that piss poor movie they claimed was a horror movie the Purge and with a list not unlike the list owned by the man that comes around Johnny Cash sang about during his song of the rapture, and I see men, women, and nonbinary people going to the address of those passive aggressive twits and beating them within an inch of their life, then carving into their chest (backwards) “get over it” then we move on to the homes of the rapists and tell them “you asked for this” before destroying their cocks with battery acid. The screams in the night would be glorious with the bats acting like percussion and the screams keyboard swells it would be like Front 242 unplugged. Maybe then the sniveling pretentious nra members out there will learn a bit. At best, it would be fair warning not to be passive aggressive asshole and learn a bit of compassion and mindfulness or to just get their heads out of their ass about battles they know nothing about if they want to avoid severe head trauma that one can not just simply get over.

Living with mental illness is not easy at any level whether a small bit of depression after a breakup or full blown PTSD after a brutal rape that leaves one unable to leave their house. Whomever has these afflictions are the ones suffering and your feelings of inconvenience or fear of those sufferers need to be thrown into the Willamette river, I would say you need to follow suit but there’s enough garbage in this river you can fuck off into a trash compactor.

Living is the hardest thing I do but I keep finding ways to stop the thoughts from taking over and I will and have done whatever it took to not die and sometimes the only way I was able to beat the mental illness was being bat shit insane. Some people think I’m a drug addict, others just think I need to talk to my old invisible friend, a few well meaning souls have suggested psychedelics and these people are pure and I will castrate any who try and stop them from their holy work from the almighty Bob. what I do need is to find that bitch with the **baseball bat and introduce them to a proper bonfire that I’m going to roast one of those little commie Cupidi on, oh yes I want my revenge for St Louis.

*the drugs in question are cannabis for the most part, when I’m spinning hard it helps tune me down and when the depression hits it shuts up the thoughts that plague me. Not a cure all nor is it a replacement for proper medication and therapy. I like to think of it a supplemental medicine that has the added effect of making Tool sound even more epic and letting me sleep peacefully.

** all wildy violent, funny and or cartoonish descriptions written about are there to be funny and entertaining no Cupidi do not exist and the Cat ear person does but the assault was less bloody and didn’t involve a bat but it was far more traumatizing.

#gvaf #bourbonsexual #mental illness #suicide #abuse #Gonzo Journalism

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moczothe1st · 6 years

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Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 17: Leif and Let Leif

Part 16

Welcome back to Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Goddammit it’s another desert map. We just beat one of those, dammit! *sob* Damn you, game. Damn you to Hell. Tell me your story, you bastard.

And wide, inspiring courage anew in the Empire’s victims. Still more uprisings erupt across Jugdral, but once again, precious few are properly organized and are easily crushed, and the death toll climbs ever higher…

Leonster, a kingdom in the Thracian Peninsula…

(FIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNN!)

But they have suffered a devasating loss before King Blume’s vast hordes and are stranded in hostile ground.

The oasis city of Darna,

(Guess which one of these faces will be recruitable.)

In Rivough, Seliph and the warriors of his liberation army now prepare themselves to embark on a journey and come to the aid of their allies in far-away Leonster. Each warrior sets aside their worries as, under Seliph’s leadership, they prepare for the new battle on their horizon.

(Well. Finn is back, but he’s not exactly a bundle of sunshine, huh.)

Finn: This is a crippling blow to our army. We’ve lost most of our might in one fell swoop.

Leif: This can’t be happening… I thought this was our chance… was all of this useless all along? Damn it all! I’ll kill Blume with my bare hands!

(Damn, Leif is way less chill than his dad was.)

Finn: Please calm yourself, milord! This isn’t the end quite yet. I’ve just had a word with King Lewyn. He’s sending Prince Seliph’s liberation army to back us up. Until then, no matter what, we must endure the siege milord.

Leif: Prince Seliph, you say… He’s the son of my father’s old friend Sigurd and Empress Deirdre, right?

Hair Wings are the Best: I think we should abandon the castle for now, and seek refuge in that western church.

Leif: Hm, you’re right. I suppose we don’t have much choice now. Very well. Our priority is to play this out defensively for the time being. Until Prince Seliph gets here, we must endure…

Blume: Buffoons, all of you! Do you really think I want to hear excuses? I want Leonster seized! No more delays! If you waste any more time on this, then we’ll have to contend with those Isaachian mongrels as well!

(So blume takes after his dad, then. Good to know.)

Moustache: Y-yes milord! We will strike immediately, milord!

(Dammit all, I let Dew die childless specifically to avoid a character like you.)

Girl!Dew: But I can’t afford to dawdle now. Still gotta get out of here, and quick…

Do the Dew: Do you have any idea how tough it was to get my hands on this sword? If you want it, come get it, nincompoop!

Shanan: W-wait!

Priest Whose Name I have Already Forgotten: And they absconded with Balmung?! You fools! Go seize them! Now!

Mook: Y-yes, your grace! But, er, your grace… surely a master of dark magics of your caliber could crush common thieves such as these with a single blow, even from here?

I think it was Cthfuzorc or something: I’ve misplaced my book of Fenrir. My men are scouring the shrine to find it, but so far it has yet to emerge…

Trying Not to Laugh: Understood, your grace. In that case, my clan and I will take a few mercenaries and pursue them. We swear to you, your grace, that we will have the treasure back where it belongs post-haste!

Lewyn: the order’s fell mages infest the desert, mercilessly assaulting anyone they find in it. People’ve taken to calling the region the Desert of Death… a fitting name, really.

Seliph: I can only imagine how awfully travelers struggle here! I wonder… perhaps it’d be possible to seize the shrine from the Order?

Lewyn: Heh, I thought you’d never ask. There’s always a way, but this one won’t be easy. We may need to make sacrifices.

Seliph: So be it. At this point we’ve little choice. Not to mention, Shanan is likely still in the desert… for now, let’s focus on taking control of Yied! All else will begin there!

And here we go, the first REAL chapter of generation two. And what I mean by real, of course…

THERE’S AN ARENA! SCREW LEIF AND SHANAN, IT’S TIME TO SPEND FIVE HOURS DOING GLADIATOR COMBAT, BITCHES.

Seliph: Seven wins, gained four levels: +8 HP, +3 Skl, +3 Str, +1 Mag, +2 Luck, +2 Def, +1 Res

Julia: Three wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Speed, +1 Magic, +1 Luck

Oifey: Seven wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Skill, +1 Luck

Ulster: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +1 Skill, +1 Strength, +2 Speed, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Larcei: Seven wins, gained three levels: +3 HP, +3 Strength, +2 Speed, +2 Magic, +1 Luck

Lester: Seven wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +2 Strength, +1 Magic, +1 Speed, +1 Defense

Dermott: Seven wins, gained three levels: +3 HP, +1 Skill, +3 Strength, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Fee: Seven wins, gained three levels: +3 HP, +2 Skill, +1 Strength, +3 Magic, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Arthur: Seven wins, gained three levels: +5 HP, +2 Skill, +4 Speed, +1 Magic, +3 Luck, +1 Defense, +1 Res

Johan: Six wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Speed, +1 Defense

Dammit, Julia. She’s unfortunately too slow to deal with the Myrmidon hanging out at Rank Four; he doubles her and she can’t hit him with any sort of accuracy. We’ll try this again at the end of the map. And speaking of the map…

So here’s what we’ve got. To the west of us is Yied Shrine, which is full of Loptyrites, and the desert between us and them is just silly with Dark Mages. Shanan himself is to the west of the Shrine; and directly south of it are two additional castles that we’re going to have to conquer eventually because of course we will. However, they don’t go hostile until we take Yied, and we can’t get the rest of the army to Lief’s rescue until we take them, so we’ve got a war ahead of us. Lief himself is directly south of our starting point, at the neutral castle Leonster, and directly south of him is the end-of-chapter boss. He has two units to protect him, and despite being told to run away, the three of them can often hold out on their own. But there’s a lot of villages down there and we want those bad. So we’re gonna abandon the castle… AND CHARGE.

Now. Before we get rolling, I do believe we have five new people to look at.

First off, Shanan. Like Oifey he’s a pre-promote, joining as a Swordmaster despite being level 12. However, he has some factors that make him more useful than Oifey in the long run:.First of all, his growths in everything other than HP and Skill are very much on the low side, but his base stats are so high it hardly matters; he’s not really going to get significantly stronger, but who cares when he’s already strong enough to fight 90% of the game’s enemies right now? Even if every level he gets is mediocre at best, he’ll probably still be fine for the endgame. Second, his abilities are great, joining up with Pursuit, Adept, and Astra ready to rock. Third…

Dewlette: Wait… give it back? Is it yours?

Shanan: Yes, it is! That’s my family’s ancestral blade, Balmung. I’m the only person capable of using it. You’ve nothing at all to gain from keeping it.

DewTwo: Wait, so how��d this thing end up in Yied, anyway?

Shanan: It belonged to my father, who died in Grannvale’s war with Isaach. Someone must’ve stolen it from him after he died. I only recently learned that it was being kept at Yied, so I came to retrieve it.

Dewlightful: Hang on, hang on, hang on! Could it be… are you Isaach’s Prince Shanan?!

Shanan: I am….

One, Dew, Three times a Lady: Really?! It’s really, really you?! Wow! Oh my gosh! This is incredible!

Shanan: Er…

Dew it To Me One More Time: No, really, I’ve heard all the stories about you! All of them! I’ve been a huge fan of yours for so long, but I never thought I’d actually meet you!

Shanan: …

Don’t Dew Drugs: But you’re here! You’re really talking to me right now! It’s like all my dreams’ve come true!

Shanan: … Yeah, I think I get the idea. My sword, please?

COULD YOU JUST INTRODUCE YOURSELF ALREADY: Oh, right, sorry! Here ya go.

Shanan: Balmung… my holy sword… It’s finally mine… hm? Ahh! What is this power…?!

Screw it, her name is Patty: Woooow! This is incredible…

And there we go. Balmung is pretty excellent, enough to push Shanan into a tier higher than his growths would otherwise allow; it gives the same broken stat boosts as Forseti, falling behind it only by virtue of not being able to attack from a distance. Since he’s currently alone against an army of dark mages and mercenaries, he’s gonna need it.

Well, okay, he’s not alone, but he might as well be because Patty is, unfortunately, a level one thief. She’s, as you see from the Minor Odo and Minor Ullur blood, the daughter of Bridget and Holyn, and one of the pairs of kids in the game who inherits the gear of her opposite gendered parent; she gets Holyn’s gear and swords. Unfortunately, even with her Odo blood, she can only use swords up to B-rank, and I was a dimwit and didn’t leave Holyn with one of those for her to inherit. So she only has her default weapon, a Sleep Edge, which is unfortunately kind of too heavy for a fragile speedster to really put to its best use. Like Dew before her she will eventually turn out pretty good; better than Dew himself by a good margin due to having Holy Blood growth boosts and inheriting Holyn’s Luna skill, but she’s… gonna take some babying.

And now a member of the other pair of kids who take after the opposite parents. Prince Leif, son of Quan and Ethlyn, and heir to his mother’s swords (unfortunately not her staves because… well, because Fire Emblem hates the players, and despite being the same class as Lachesis, who could use staves, he can’t until he promotes). As a Prince, he starts off on the weak side and becomes a demon god when he promotes to Master Knight; he’s a little easier to get there than good ol’ Lachesis was, though, on account of having much better growths and inheriting Adept and Critical from his parents. However, he’s also going to need some babying to achieve his full power.

All grown up and ready to kick ass, Finn is unchanged from his appearance in the first generation stat-wise, and still has all his kick-ass old spears. Our Finn turned out really well, you may recall, and so he’s going to be doing a lot of the legwork in keeping Leif alive. He’s also only 32 EXP away from promoting, so he should be improving himself even more by the end of the map. I’m frankly amazed; I’ve never gotten a Finn that was able to hold up in the endgame of the second gen, but this one may actually pull it off. He’s already slightly better than Oifey without even getting his promotion stat boosts.

And last but not least, Nanna. She’s Beowulf and Lachesis’s daughter, and Dermott’s sister, and a fairly solid unit. If nothing else, she’s a Troubador like good old Ethlyn was, meaning she has staves and a horse. Her growths are pretty below-average for a second generation unit, but she’ll never be useless simply by virtue of being a healer with a huge range of movement. And with Pursuit and Accost from dear old dad, she should turn out to be a pretty solid combat unit as well if she gets lucky.

… Don’t be like Ethlyn, Nanna. She isn’t even your mom, you just share her class. Please.

*whew*

All right, that’s it for new units, so let’s rock. The main army begins moving west towards the desert; there’s a small army of dark mages in their way, but too far away from us to reach on this turn. Dark Magic is a pain in the ass as you may recall; it’s outside the weapon triangles, which means nothing has an advantage against it. Even Light magic only manages ‘neutral’ and all other magic is inferior. So…. I’m not in a huge hurry to fight them, but Julia will be pulling her weight here, I tell you that. Leif, Finn, and Nanna, on the other hand, begin moving south toward the many villages in their section of the map. There are, of course, tons of bandits, so we’ll need to rush if we want to kill them before Blume’s army reaches us.

End turn.

You… you guys can stay out in the desert if you want…

But my cartoonish terror aside, only one enemy can actually reach us this turn, a mercenary who takes a shot at Shanan.

It coulda gone better for him.

On our turn, I move most of the army to the north; I want Julia to bear the brunt of the mage assault, backed up by Arthur with his book of invincibility. I also take this opportunity to have Oifey have a chat with Dermott.

Oifey: Sir Finn, you say… you’re eager to have the chance to see her again, aren’t you?

Dermott: Yes sir! I can hardly wait!

Oifey: Heh. You’ll have to give this battle your all first, then! How about a quick lesson?

Dermott: Yes, sir! I’d appreciate that!

Normally I would say that during a battle isn’t the right time to be exercising, but it gives Dermott a permanent +1 boost to his Strength, Skill, and Defense, so I’m not gonna complain.

Now, Patty and Shanan. The thing about this situation is that Patty really cannot fight anything here, so Shanan is gonna have to carry this situation while she hides. But while the enemy is coming from the east, there’s also two enemies south of them coming along the ridge.

And guess what, of course Patty can’t fight them either. So this is gonna be a dance. First, the mages are the biggest threat. They have very little chance of hitting Shanan while he’s got his ubersword in hand, but if they hit he’s fucked. So let’s deal with that first.

One down, a small army to go.

And Patty is safe for the moment. The two swordsmen should both die on Shanan this turn, so she can move in again around the time the southern wing starts getting close. Neat. And now for Leif’s team;

Leif and Nanna use mad teamwork to barely defeat a single enemy. I’m so… proooud? Nanna follows up by liberating the village, stopping them from ever touching it.

Passive Aggressive: Lord Quan… Lady Ethlyn… I pray you’re both proud of your son… please, kind knight, accept this Speed Ring. I’d like you to wear it proudly to your battles.

… I wish I’d let Leif have that instead of Nanna, but I forgot it was there. Eh, I’ll cope. I have Finn make a run for the farthest village he can reach, the goal being to kill the bandits more than loot anything. He’s actually got funds left from his own army days, so he doesn’t really need the money. I just want to stop these jerks from torching the money which will be divvied up later amongst my noble men. End turn! The dark mages move in and one takes a swing at our girl Julia.

“SECRET PRINCESS… BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM!”

And over near Yied…

Shanan you are the man. Forget prince, my man, you’re KING.

…. Fuck, story is happening. What now? Do we really need more enemies? Really?

(Celice and Serlis were common fan translations for Seliph’s name before Intelligent Systems confirmed an official one. Someone’s in the writer’s booth is being snippy~)

Bramsel: The Empire’s put a hefty price on that boy’s head. Let’s make sure we’re the ones to rake in the bounty, shall we? Keep our border locked down for the time being. The best option is to let them run themselves ragged, leaving them wide open to our strike! Instruct commander Jabarro to put his squad on standby. His services will be needed in short order!

(Okay, game, that’s literally just Eldigan with a different colored shirt. You could at least try to keep these things a mystery.)

Ribbons: Oh, that’s good. I guess I’m a bit worried about how you’re gonna have to go and fight too, Ares…

Ares: What sorry excuse for a mercenary would I be if I refused to join a battle, Lene? Never mind one which, rumor has it, will oppose Sigurd’s son… never would I deny a chance to personally slay the spawn of my father’s mortal foe.

Lene: Hee hee! You’re still going on about that, are you? Oh, you dolt.

(Lene Burn!)

Lene: I mean, think about it. Both your father and that Sigurd man were knights, weren’t they? And isn’t killing part of a knight’s job? It’s like my job. Sometimes I have to dance for foul, leering men! I hate it, but it’s part of the work. I have to just deal with it. We’ve all gotta do what we’ve gotta do to get by in life. I dunno… I just don’t think it’s right to hate someone for doing their job.

Ares: Lene… I understand. I’ll have to think it over for a time, but I do understand…

And with that (and a very off-putting few seconds of movement while the other enemy faction down in Leif’s area moves around aimlessly) we have our turn back. Julia strikes down her foes with the power of a queen.

And Arthur powers up the Invinci-cannon.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm that’s the stuff. I discretely move Lana back toward the castle because I realize I forgot to repair all her staves, while everyone else moves to the west, getting ready to intercept one slow mage coming up through the desert. Julia is our queen and she shall slay the bulk of these filthy peasants, but she’s kind enough to leave her leftovers for the other, lesser souls.

Oh, and Shanan is here too.

Actually not bad! Like I said, his growths are actually not great, and Defense is one of his less impressive stats at the moment, so I’ll take it. And finally, the Leif team.

… I missed you so much, Finn. Leif and Nanna need to team up and use the power of friendship and proclaim the power of Sailor Moon just to kill a bandit, while Finn is just BAM, BRAVE LANCE, DONE. Weapon Triangle? For bitches.

End turn!

You are nothing to her, worms.

And that’s the only combat for this turn, barring someone taking a shot at Shanan and missing. Which, speaking of, I think it’s time for Shanan to start moving on. See, the boss in Yied Castle actually does find that tome he was talking about in the opening cutscene if you wait to long, and then he starts blasting you. So the guy who missed him last turn gets to live, because he’s moving in to slaughter the castle defenders and assassinate the boss. And we add one more kill to the Daughter of the World-ender.

Estuans interius

Ira vehementi

Estuans interius

Ira vehementi

Julia

But there’s a lot of them, and if I let her kill them all, the game will last forever. So I have some peons take a shot.

… I hate dark mages.

Lester if you wanted to make me happy, gaining a point in damn magic wasn’t the way to do it. I have Fee start running across the desert to join Shanan, since she has enough resistance to be trustworthy around these jerks, and have Seliph move onto a forest in the range of one mage. My hope is that he’ll dodge this one while Julia crushes the others, then everyone can gang up on the sole survivor.

See, Lester? This is what being reliable looks like. Finn has weapon triangle disadvantage and he’s still wrecking these jerks. Just for that, he gets some money that he doesn’t need.

Apparently Not Sure What ‘Terrifying’ Means: Then there’s Tinni, a young mage… Blume’s niece she may be, but that girl’s still got a kind heart on her. She’s come to our aid and the aid of our neighbor villages time and again… she’s nothing like her family.

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORESHADOWING. Let’s wrap things up with the Friendship Team.

Not bad. I would normally complain about the lack of offensive growth of any kind, but Speed and Defense in the same level really makes up for it. End turn!

… And luckily, the AI is kind of dumb, and prioritizes Julia because it can’t miss her. Thing is, it also can’t kill her. She doubles the dark mages, and Nosferatu heals her when she hits them. So they hit her once, and she hits them back twice and eats their health to get back to full power.

…. Oops. Did I leave Leif in enemy range? Well, he’s doing well so far, no biggie. Our turn begins on a fairly strong position with one exception: A dark mage is close enough to Patty he might attack her. If that goes wrong, I’m screwed! I messed this up badly. Patty, run. Run, Patty. Run.

…. Fuck. She can’t run. I… ugh. Okay, well. Patty has one shot at this and it’s very, very unlikely she’ll pull it off.

… Nope, didn’t do it. If he’d fallen asleep from getting hit by her Sleep Edge, she could have maybe held out until Shanan got back to her, but he didn’t and as a result she’s dead on the enemy phase regardless of what I do. Reset.

All right. Looking ahead on things with the foresight of someone paying attention to where units are actually standing, I do a few things differently. First, Shanan kills the last enemy in his area so Patty can’t get caught in a pincer.

That done, Patty runs over to hide under his skirt.

Two, remembering well that Lester got creamed, I hand it to Johan, who also can’t miss but hits somewhat harder.

Good job, Johan. You’re not gonna be marrying Larcei, because something about you worries me. But good job. Team Leif, meanwhile, does exactly what they did before and it goes about as well, only Leif actually gets a somewhat better level!

No magic, of course. He takes after his mother, after all. Okay! End Turn, and let’s try this again.

And hey, Julia remembers she has Adept and kills two of the mages she only wounded last time! Her dark power grows. She also gained a slightly different level, but I lost the screenshot: +1HP, +1 Magic, +1 Speed. I’ll take it gleefully.

… Less Gleeful, but Nanna will fix that right up.

Right then. Our turn starts, and the main army has only two mages left to kill. Arthur wipes out the one Julia crippled earlier…

While Julia moves herself to intercept the final one. In fact, this is mostly a turn of moving, because few people make any real attacks. Shanan moves toward the boss, Patty moves to hide behind him, the army moves toward Yied, and Leif… moves back toward the castle he was told to abandon.

Yeah. Yeah. We’re not giving up. Fuck that. Nanna patches him, and he makes a run toward Leonster! He is going to defend his home. And hopefully gain some needed levels.

… This might end badly.

End turn!

Well, Julia’s back to not killing things. That’s nice. Well, it’s our turn again, and she’ll fix that.

Yum. Shanan finally starts the attack on Yied proper…

And Leif takes up position to wait out the siege.

This is a risk. I’m very much not sure it will work. But the enemy army is almost entirely armor, which means only one of them can attack Leif at a time, and with the castle he gets a bonus to evasion and heals every turn. If he manages to kill all these fuckers and gets mostly decent levels, he will be pretty much set for the rest of the game. Don’t be like your mother, Leif.

End turn.

…. Nothing happens on the enemy phase, so. At this point, Shanan could just walk up and shank the boss, but if he does that Patty will die to the other units in the area. So instead he runs up to hit this guy…

And Patty once more hides under his skirt. Fee, who has finally arrived after a million years, takes up position to intercept the incoming swordsman that’s behind them. I forgot to repair her spear after her arena runs, but she should be able to hold out.

I’m… not doing well on this map.

Now, Seliph is needed to liberate Yied and Larcei has a conversation with Shanan, so I send the two of them into the desert while the rest of the army starts moving south. As soon as we take the shrine the rest of the map opens up, and I want soldiers in position. Similarly, Nanna and Finn move into position to support Leif if he needs it; hopefully he will not, between his bitchin’ sword and strong defensive position. End turn…

FEE! DODGE!

LEIF! DON’T EMULATE HER!

Hoo boy. This may have been a mistake. Um… okay, guys. Take your shots. Don’t fuck this up.

Light Bright, on! It doesn’t kill the armor, unfortunately, but Leif is technically hitting him from a distance here and can’t be countered, so it works out. Shanan, can you please shank the boss?

Damn, you sure can. Um… end turn. Patty will die if she attacks anyone. This is bad. This is super bad. Unless for some reason the enemy all go for someone else, we’re a bit screwed. In fact we might be screwed anyway if the swordsman can double her.

OH THANK YOU JESUS. The remaining mage attacked Shanan, and when the sword guy hit Patty her Sleep Edge worked for once and caught him, so he’s immobilized for a few turns. Oh. Oh, man. Thank you. We live another turn, though this is still gonna be wonky to get out of unless the enemy AI futzes up again and keeps trying to zap Shanan. Leif, as well, gives a good showing…

One down, way too many to go. On our turn, I have Shanan clear out one of the two remaining mages:

And move Patty behind him, and…

And win. The battle for Yied Shrine is over, and despite fucking up like seven times, we came out on top. The sole remaining mage can only attack Shanan, who he cannot one-shot and who definitely can one-shot him in return. The swordsman down in the corner there is asleep for five more turns, so Patty can plink him to death and get some much-needed Experience.

Leif kills another armor, meanwhile, and continues his long but sure ascent to godhood. It’s never 100% safe to assume in FE, but with two levels in a row that good, I’m reasonably sure that Leif will hold the castle against all comers. Once we get him to an Arena he should be well on his way to outright amazing before the end of the chapter. End turn.

*sniff* Everything is coming together for the end, I swear. What follows is going to be very boring, as barring a few more armors spawning in Leif’s area, there’s no threats left. So it’s going to be nothing but Seliph wandering the desert like Moses while we plink away at enemies. So here’s the highlights.

Shanan: You went and took back Isaach behind my back, did you, Seliph? I can’t thank you enough!

Seliph: No, we’d still be in Tirnanog if not for you. You inspired us. You gave us your courage. If not for you, we could never have taken to the field!

Shanan: Heh, you’re starting to put on a bit of muscle there, aren’t you? You’re finally starting to…

Seliph: Shanan…?

Shanan: Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Pay me no mind, Seliph.

Seliph: Anyway,we’re finally starting to challenge the empire! Not bad, wouldn’t you say?

Shanan: Heh, not bad at all. I’ve waited so long for this day… we all have, really.

Seliph: Thank you, Shanan!

(Seliph gains +1 Skill from this, because… um… it was… a very… skillful discussion?)

Larcei: Don’t worry about it! The important part is you’re safe. I, er…

Shanan: How’s your sword arm doing? Any stronger?

Larcei: Yes, but still far below your prowess, sir.

Shanan: How about a quick lesson to patch that up. See, raw power isn’t quite enough here. Try putting a bit more spirit into it… and swing!

Larcei: Nnnn-yah! Like this, sir?

(Must be, because she gets +2 strength from that. Hell of a workout, apparently.)

(Nanna, I swear to God if you don’t get some magic growth I will shave your ridiculous 80′s hair.)

(Fucking finally. I realize that was quick for you, but for me it was like twelve turns of sand and non-threatening combat that wasn’t even worth showing.)

Lewyn: They had no choice. Trying to build new lives on the surface would have led to their mass persecution, or even being burned at the stake. I suspect that at first they weren’t really bad or unusual people, but before long, their life here twisted them into what we know them as today.

(Not to question your wisdom, Lewyn, but they probably could have built a life on the surface if they didn’t insist on worshipping a god that eats children.)

Seliph: I can hardly believe it… It’s as if they were being tortured for the sins of their long-dead ancestors…

(Well, I mean, dude, they did keep worshipping Loptyr. Who, again, eats children.)

Seliph: All my life, these people have been branded as ‘the dark cult’ or ‘devil’s kin’. I can hardly imagine their pain… hold a moment. This scribble on the wall… is that a child’s penmanship? It’s a prayer. And it begs for the return of the dark god… was loptyr the only hope these people had?

(No, forgetting Loptyr and moving on to the worship of… I dunno, Fluffingor, god of soft things. That would have been a good hope. I’m all for freedom of religion, I know people like to keep to their faith, but when your god eats children you really need to reconsider.)

Lewyn: Yeah… Consider this a lesson, Seliph. Good and evil can’t be easily reduced to simple, black-and-white ideals. If you must hate, hate the evil that lurks in us all, not the individual. Never forget this.

Welp. As much as I’d love to sit around and debate morality with Lewyn (Again, my counter-argument would be ‘don’t worship a child-eating demon’, but you’d be shocked how applicable that is), we’ve taken the castle and I’m very tired. You guys take a nice week off while I sleep. I should wake up by the time the next update is due. Maybe.

Resets: 21. Level One Thief syndrome is a terrible thing.

Part 18

#Let's play fire emblem #let's play fire emblem four #let's play #Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War #fire emblem 4 #lp #let's play fe4 #my writing

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braindamageforbeginners · 7 years

Text

Day 36, Radiation 24, Serum Infusion 5 (sort of)

I realize that I tend to be discursive and verbose (in writing, anyway, I’m a surprisingly quiet person in real life); HOWEVER, dear reader, if the potential walls of text seem intimidating, let me just say, I cover a helluva lot of ground in this one. Benchmarks shall be reached; insights had; exhilarating heights and terrifying lows reached. Or, yesterday marked an important date, I had some critical insights to surviving deadly diseases (

So; yesterday marked the final initial serum infusion (I know that sounds like I’m a demented time traveler; hang with me). The “initial” treatment period for GBM - usually agreed as the “critical” treatment period - is a six-week course of 42 days of chemotherapy, 30 radiation doses (you get weekends off), and, in my case, five injections of Abraham Erskine’s Special Sauce. This is followed by a 20-30 day vacation - of sorts, followed by a year of on-again-off-again chemo (and, in my case, added bacon bits to Dr. Erskine’s elixer). That’s if everything goes well. If the radiotherapy (which is the very best that every single physician I consulted with recommended) isn’t as effective as predicted/hoped; you can start planning on what requests you’ll make for Tom Petty and Whitney Houston. I mean, there are some things they can do to forestall the disease, manage symptoms, etc. but that’s pretty the cancellation notice on a TV series you were watching. Again, I am amazingly horrified, upset, and angry that my life expectancy and potential is dependent upon which artificial rogue proton hit which carbon ring in an alien invader in my brain. And I’m going to be getting sentenced (as it were), in a month, and a helluva lot will be due to random chance. And healthy people would see this whole thing that the end is in sight, and thus begins a new stage of life (here’s a teachable moment, healthy folks; if you have a friend with a progressive disease, the stages are that they get worse until they die; new stage of life is that they get to skip some stages). So, yeah, after a year of awful news, it feels rather less that the parole board is convening, and much more that the Roulette Wheel is spinning. And I suppose the secret to doing this thing with grace and courage (which, again, I have no intention of doing; I was born a miserable misanthrope) is figuring out how to maximize those spins before the cashier collects. But, that is still a full month off, there are still positive (and negative) possibilities in play, and we shall leave the dark Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come for the rest of the post in favor of me (I suppose I’d be the Ghost of Christmas That one Time Dad Accidentally Misplaced and Mislabeled Everyone’s Gifts, So the Day Ended in a Really Stupid Series of Arguments)(I mean, I love the Christmas Carol, but I think we can all agree that I’m much more in the vein of idiotic-yet-funny family history stories we use to scare Grandma into silence)(Again, ladies, I am single).

So, we start events bright and early yesterday with me getting my blood drawn. Which always sucks, but I have learned a few tricks over the years (holding the phlebotomist’s family hostage in case they have to stab you more than three times isn’t as effective as you’d think). I have really hard-to-find veins; they’re small, you can’t see them, and they clench up and hide well after a bad attempt. But, I now have the patter down to a fine art, and most decent nurses and phlebotomists can do it by the second try (the record number of attempts, for anyone keeping score, was an MRI tech in NoCal - this was back in the days when techs were allowed to inject dyes into patients on their own; the rules have since changed). The vampire tech in question got me on the first time, and, then installing the IV, accidentally spritzed me with my own life essence. In all fairness, I’ve suffered worse the last time I spilled a drink, in terms of liquid exposure. And, because it’s me, it’s not even the first or second time I’ve been drenched in my own blood - it might be the third or fourth time, I’d have go back and tally them up (and, although “drench” is far too strong a verb in this instance, it wasn’t strong enough to capture the previous occasions)(I desperately wish I was making this up). Now, this wasn’t terribly painful, or, as it turns out, even very inconvenient - thankfully, there’s some mega-methanol fabric cleaner on hand (I don’t know why this surprised me; I’ve had a semi-permanent place in the hospital system since before I could vote) - which is fortunate, because the constabulary takes a dim view of grown men with blood stains on their crotches (that wasn’t some sort of design on my part, it was just a weird - albeit amusing - outcome of the angles and pressures involved. Anyway, after securing the IV in place, and making me presentable for a court appearance, the Vampire Tech (and this isn’t a slam on her, or anything; it’s just that the job of drawing blood and installing IVs is done by - according to my count - nurses, phlebotomists, technicians, nurses in training, training phlebotomist technicians - you get the idea; there’s 45 possible job titles for the person sticking me with an 18 gage needle)(crucial tidbit for future patients; 20-22 gage needles are about the smallest they’ll use on an adult, and, if you have a documented history of hard-to-find veins, you might want to consider asking for one of those) apologized to me for the mishap; I reciprocated, and she mentioned that she’d used a slightly smaller needle than she thought and moved a little faster, based on my description. She then mentioned - and I do hope you are sitting - that I have really, really big veins, they’re just a bit hard to find.

THE BETRAYAL. ALL IS LIES. You have to understand, folks, I’ve been told that I have small, hard-to-find, hard-to-poke veins, and, all this time, I have mid-grade kitchen pipes. I have to believe - because I’ve had my blood drawn more often than Lance Armstrong in the last sixteen years - that someone would’ve mentioned that my veins are fine, they’re just invisible and not where you expect them, and I forgot. That would be bad, and upsetting, but I would’ve liked to have thought that someone would’ve noticed and mentioned it a second or third time. Of course, I also did down two liters of water a half-hour before the blood draw, so it’s possible my venous system is more aggressively reactionary than Southern politics (drinking a lot of water right before a blood draw a well-known, very effective way to make the phlebotomist’s job easier), and this poor woman underestimated.

So, fast-forward 1400 years to me, in the chemo seat (which is supposed to be comfortable, but it’s amazing how unpleasant impersonal barcaloungers are when you have a tube in your arm, and you daren’t jiggle it lest you get billed for someone’s dry-cleaning bill), getting grilled by Research Coordinator, about assorted side-effects (that’s what they’re testing me for, remember), and he mentions that I’ve already reached the maximum recommended dose and tolerated it well, so I’m probably at my maximal side effects, super-soldier wise. Which makes me feel good, because, even though my arm and shoulder hurt like a sumbitch the next day and I have vague flu-like symptoms, if this is as bad as it gets, experimental drug-wise, it’s pretty tolerable (I mean, depending on how things shake-out, if this is a bimonthly, standard dose, I’ll ask them about some sort of stronger pain-killer or something, because this is extremely unpleasant, but, if this is the price of another decade or two, it’s doable)(even with horrible, horrible Gatorade). Which made me feel all Captain American-y for a brief moment and shine a bit of hope on the darkness. Research Coordinator also mentioned that, even though you only get one radiation treatment per lifetime, if I beat this thing the first time and it comes back, he and the Warlocks are already working on potential treatment plans, trials, and virgin sacrifices to keep me alive. Folks, I’m going to use some strong language here, but, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, this is why, if you have a serious illness, do not fuck around with the folks at the local health-mart; go directly to the best. I’m still scared as hell that the radiation won’t take hold and/or this tumor will kill me, but I do feel like, if I can beat this one, I might have something like a normal life expectancy. That might just be the bargaining part stage of grief, though, and it does kind of require me to survive the next several months, which is far from guaranteed. to say the least. HOWEVER, Research Coordinator did assure me that, win, lose, or draw, I’d be getting a few weeks off from Gatorade (I’ll discuss this in further detail later, because it’s not exactly what it sounds like). My major complaint about that interaction is that they skimped on the budget and didn’t get Stanley Tucci to do the interview.

I also had a fascinating conversation with a chemo nurse who was double checking assorted side-effects, prescriptions, patient history, what-have-you. The following conversation has been condensed and slightly edited. NURSE: So, no nausea or vomiting? SELF: Not yet. NURSE: And you’re still on zofran? SELF: Uh, yeah, although i was queasy after the second infusion, so Research Coordinator suggested I double the dosage. But that’s in all the history, and it’s factored in to all of my prescriptions and stuff, as far as I can tell. NURSE (suspiciously): And you’ve never skipped a dose or cut back? SELF: Ma’am, it makes physically bearable and keeps me from puking. Why would I feel the need to experiment with that? NURSE: Oh, you’d be surprised. SELF: Look, if I get all my dreams and die at age 90 in excellent health; I want to be buried with a full bottle of zofran in case I need it.

Eventually, I did get to make it to another part of Socal, because Mother Dearest and the dog decided to visit me. Again, I’m going to be vague in an attempt to preserve some sort of anonymity (if not on my part, at least my dog’s); but we were able to coordinate this because I found a pet-friendly hotel in a part of town half-way between home and the hospital - as opposed to the really nice, but really expensive resort town. I’m now ready to call it quits with the resort area - it was quieter, friendlier, cheaper, and more personal. There’s less to do there, but people actually talked to me (or they talked to my dog, which I think is close enough). Everyone I talked to at this neighborhood was friendly - like, the meanest response of the night is from me, when a baker came out from behind the counter to hug my dog and I kind of winced, because that doesn’t seem very hygienic. But the croissants were amazing (like, worth dog-germ-risk to a technically-immunocompromised person amazing). And I got to celebrate the serum-sorta-completion-almost date the way American Jesus intended: with steak tartare, near-raw burgers, (it could be laden with tuberculosis, but, screw it, I got zofran, I’m not gonna puke), and double-helpings of beer (and, to those of you who don’t know me, few people like microbrew more than I do). It was a delightsomeful, memorable evening. I’m sure she meant it as a compliment, but Mother Dearest expressed far more wit in a single observation than the entire Trump administration: “You’ve become a much more interesting diner since you gave up that heart-health thing.”

And I sort-of slept. Maybe. A few hours. I will say this about the horrible super-soldier serum; it does produce the most amazingly life-like dreams I’ve ever experienced. Yes, I know they’re not technically hallucinations, but, you people didn’t attend the Super Bowl last night. Admittedly, that’s s a really weird, specific, helluva strange object for my focus (I give less thought to the NFL than I do to alfalfa profit margins)(not that either takes up much brain space). It felt like I was there, just like the last hyper-realistic post-injection dream. Which was weird and cool, and, certainly one of the more intriguing side-effects. Which led to a nastier, far-too-frequent side-effect; my arm feeling like it was trying to disattach itself from my frame. Fortunately, after last time, I knew exactly what to; go directly to Tylenol and Gatorade, which made things tolerable. Or as tolerable as Gatorade-based mornings can be. It did occur to me that, if I can’t be Captain America, maybe my right arm can grow and mutate and turn into some sort of really cool/scary demon-hand, like Hellboy. Which would enable me to punch through the flimsy walls of this universe to Hell itself, so that I could track down the inventor of Gatorade, and give him a well-earned thrashing (I know I’m an agnostic, but one thing I am absolutely theologically certain of; the creator of Gatorade is in Hell).

And, as I was musing - like you do, when you’re waiting for superpowers - I recalled the nurse saying that people just experiment and go off zofran (again, kids, if Santa Claus ever brings you zofran, you write a thank-you note immediately). This kind of coincided with another revelation, and I do apologize if it’ll take some time to connect the two, because they make a very important point for everyone planning on surviving cancer. I was packing up the dog’s stuff (specifically, his bowl and bag of food), and thought I’d just pour the leftover food into the bag on the porch/parking-lot area - food’s gonna spill, after all; if it happens out there, some lucky squirrel can deal with it. Mom immediately stopped me so that she could do the exact same thing in the sink area. Depositing dog food all over the sink, and turning a two-minute task into a five-minute cleaning job; without any apparent gain apart from cleaning kibble out of the sink. Now, because it’s Mother Dearest, I’m sure I’ll get some note about how I’m wrong and efficiency and cleanliness are overrated. What occurred to me is that it was a minor case of someone exercising some form of agency merely because they could.

And I get that; I really do. I organize my bookshelves, keep a highly regimented gym schedule, etc. And it suddenly occurred to me, based on this thought (and the chemo nurse’s statement that people stop taking zofran just because), there has to be a chunk of the populace that goes off doctor’s orders or refuses care or whatever for a variety of reasons. That’s all old news; I was an EMT, I’ve seen stupid shit you couldn’t even begin to believe. BUT, the heartening part of it - for me, anyway - is that I have, since Day 1 (since before then, actually), religiously followed doctor’s orders and suggestions (for the most part; I still shave, eat raw foods, and train in the gym; but I’ve never missed an appointment, prescription, dosage, or medical exam, and I’ve never lied to my physicians when questioned). Now, I realize that I have a dangerous disease that isn’t well-understood or have a terribly predictable outcome; but, it is worth noting that, every time I tell some medical professional I’ve lived with this disease (or chronic brain tumors, anyway) for 16 years, I get the exact same reaction as if I’d told them I went to school with Archimedes. I am, apparently, in the world of cancer, patients, nigh-vampire-unkillable. Which is pretty cool and makes me feel good, but, for everyone who wants to learn that secret, well, it’s pretty simple.

You want to go to the very best doctors. You want to figure out the best treatment plan for you; the one that offers the most chance of success. HOWEVER, once you have those things; you follow the rules and stick to the treatment plan like your life depends on it, because it does. I have no idea whether this is going to work, or what my life expectancy will be, but I am near-certain that if I decided to screw around with things, I will have a very grim future.

In figuring out an appropriate ending metaphor for all of this - and the importance of sticking to the medical plan in a world filled with changing variables and crises - I hit upon China Mieville’s book, “Kraken.” It’s an odd urban fantasy that prominently features a cult that worships giant squid as deities (it’s not the dumbest religion I’ve ever heard of). However, there is a minor plot point about the cult’s version of chess - “Kraken Chess,” which is just like our chess, except it features a piece called the Kraken (because of course it does). The Kraken piece is the most powerful piece on the board, because it can - like the queen - move any number of squares in any direction; however, the Kraken piece can also not move at all. It just forfeits a turn.

Folks, as you navigate a dangerous disease, there will be many, many periods where you don’t see any real results, there is no end in sight (or, as the case may be, the visible ends tend to look scary). I will work tirelessly to figure out some sort of coping strategy for all that - believe me, a large part of my life is centered on that, right now. All I can say is, don’t exert agency when none is needed, especially if that comes in the form of skipping your zofran. Sometimes, you must be the kraken; silent, beaked, still, and waiting for the opportunity to kill Sam Worthington.

I mean, uh, take your meds, follow the doctor’s directions, and don’t miss your appointments.

At the moment, I’m back home, waiting for my next appointment (it’s in a few hours);everything’s as close to normal as it can be. I’ve finished up all my administrative health lackey duties, so all bills that can be paid, prescriptions that can be renewed, appointments that can be made, etc. have been scheduled, and I can’t do anything for a few hours. Which is almost a relaxing feeling. I might go sit in the yard with a book and try and get in touch with my inner squid. Sometimes that’s the best you can do.

Folks, I do apologize if that was a bit lengthy and choppy; I had to write it exceedingly fast because I took a day off and there was a lot to attend to while I wrote. So, sorry if it’s a little disjarring; I can do better than that, I just didn’t have the time (and parts of it were written while I was still a little loopy from Captain America serum). The good news - sort of - is that there’s still a lot of things on the cutting-room floor that I’ll be revisiting in short-order. You’d best believe I’m going to revisit that kraken metaphor very soon, I have dark plans for the importance of vomiting on people (sort of), and why we, as a species, might be okay in the end.

#Cancer #brain tumor

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weightlossfitness2 · 5 years

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Here’s Why I Quit Social Media & What I’ve Learned

I’ll be trustworthy: I’m extra cautious of technological innovation than most. After all, I wrote my school thesis on futuristic dystopian fiction, and assume we’re dangerously near residing in Black Mirror‘s social ratings-driven “Nosedive” society.

Curious to seek out out if analog enlightenment awaited me offline, I made a decision to embark on a 30-day social media detox. The stunning end result? My preliminary experiment has since reworked right into a deliberate way of life option to give up social media completely.

Here’s a glance into my determination, journey, and analysis. Plus: some meals for thought to see if taking a break from social media could possibly be the life hack you didn’t know you wanted.

Why I Quit Social Media

Striving for Authenticity

Ironically sufficient, my first-ever Facebook quote completely encapsulates a key purpose why I give up social media. From the movie Almost Famous, it reads: “From here on out, I am only interested in what is real. Real people, real feelings, that’s it, that’s all I’m interested in.” Henry David Thoreau penned the same maxim that’s additionally profoundly influenced me for years: “Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.”

Authenticity and transparency are values I try to domesticate in myself and search in others. Truth be advised, social media is extra aptly suited to mild bites by means of rose-colored lenses. (And whereas there’s been a latest uptick of digital “getting real” moments, Cazzie David and Carrie Battan illustrate that they usually tread a nice line between uncooked honesty and strategic baiting.)

Seeking Validation

The performative facet of social media—parodied as Instagram vs. actuality—by no means sat nicely with me. Somewhere alongside the road, placing your “best self” ahead and staying “on brand” in feed turned a part-time job for on a regular basis folks.

Thinking about my very own social media patterns, I questioned my motivations behind my uploads. What am I looking for with every put up? Do I really want digital consideration and validation? Sure, I prefer to flex stylish outfits, write pithy commentary, and commemorate my travels and particular events as a lot as the subsequent individual. But I’ve come to understand that my every day doings don’t warrant a public discussion board, and there’s a sure dignity to staying non-public. I additionally need to take pleasure in my moments within the second, as a substitute of compulsively refreshing my display to take a look at metrics on how nicely my life performs.

To be truthful, our powers are restricted in resisting these urges. According to a former Google engineer turned pioneer of humane expertise, digital media is designed to perform like slot machines. Platforms mimic the neurological highs and lows of chasing the fun of reward, which may encourage behavioral dependancy.

VALUING TIME

As I discussed in my meditation problem assessment, I purpose to place my time to good use. It comes as no shock that senseless scrolling is counterproductive to doing simply that. À la Carrie Bradshaw, I couldn’t assist however surprise: If I spend an hour per day on social media, what might I obtain by dedicating that point to a extra worthy pursuit over the course of a month? A yr? A lifetime? Armed with and empowered by this attitude, my determination to give up social media was a no brainer.

Minding My Mood

I’ve been drawn to the concept of quitting social media for years—however I held onto my excuses and caveats for expensive life. For starters, I really like my memes and I’m a tradition vulture. Then, from a sensible standpoint, components of my job usually overlap with social media. And most significantly, social media gives quick access to verify in on household and buddies (which I’ll contact upon quickly). But in any other case, particularly within the weeks earlier than going chilly turkey, the platforms took a critical toll on my temper—and fairly frankly, my sanity.

These frustrations vary from selling eerily unnatural requirements of magnificence, the complicated politics of the platforms, and even its terminology. (The irony of watching “friends” battle by way of Facebook feedback wasn’t misplaced on me. Also, the concept of being a “follower” on Instagram—and particularly having a way of value ascribed to that quantity—are harsh realities I’ve hassle stomaching.) In reality, the time I wasted distressed over these triggers far exceeded the time I spent really collaborating on social media.

By trying on the analysis behind the psychology of social media, I realized that I wasn’t alone in my emotions. A 2017 examine demonstrates that heavy social media use (over two hours per day) is linked to elevated charges of melancholy and perceived isolation. Similarly, one other 2017 examine reveals that total Facebook use has a unfavourable affect on self-reported life satisfaction, bodily and psychological well being, and in some way even your physique mass index (BMI). Hard go, TYVM.

What Happens When You Quit Social Media?

As of this text’s date of publish, I’ve spent a strong three months off the digital grid. Life with out social media has been extremely helpful for me. I’ve observed constructive enhancements in all the areas through which I sought respite and launch. However, I had a couple of frequent considerations earlier than embarking on this journey, significantly when it comes to relationships and connectivity. Here’s what I’ve found.

maintaining in contact with Friends

At first, this concern was my greatest deterrent to taking a social detox. I grew up on the other coast and spent the vast majority of my 20s residing the world over in Tel Aviv. Profile-hopping was a easy approach to verify in on folks I cared about with out utterly staying out of the loop. But as I’ve realized, quitting social media doesn’t routinely lend itself to social suicide. Instead, I’ve been capable of higher give attention to the standard, relatively than amount, of my relationships. Intermittent catch-ups are extra intimate than viewing posts and tales broadcast to most people. And giving somebody my undivided consideration is extra significant than any thumbs up, double-tap, or remark with heart-eyed emojis. I’ve been capable of get a lot extra substance from these devoted interactions, as a substitute of mistakenly considering that passive public exchanges actually satiated my urge for food for connection.

As for main life moments and phases you don’t need to miss? (Think birthdays, betrothals, and infants.) Ask for deets and photographs privately, and I’m constructive you shall obtain. Some buddies, in the event that they actually love you, will even screenshot and ship over these memes you so dearly miss.

Navigating FOMO

Initially, I used to be barely involved about falling prey to the pangs of FOMO. But in all honesty, JOMO is completely legit. I really feel lighter and brighter with out wittily captioned and elegantly filtered photos of celebs, influencers, and sure—even my buddies—taking on useful headspace. Social media envy is an actual difficulty for many, as a 2019 survey from Northeastern University demonstrates. Well over half of respondents reported feeling envious of each informal and shut buddies—considerably extra so than with public figures and even exes—recurrently by way of social media alone. It seems that whereas “doing it for the ‘gram” may look good in your feed, it might probably compromise your outlook on folks you really take pleasure in IRL. And who wants that?

How to Take a Social Media Detox

I perceive that not everyone seems to be inquisitive about quitting social media for good, and even resonates with my perspective. But by talking with buddies, co-workers, and even strangers, I realized that most individuals are at the least intrigued by the concept of a short lived social detox. I extremely advocate making an attempt and seeing what occurs. What do you need to lose? And even better, what extra do you need to acquire? Do you need to be extra current, use your time extra properly, enhance productiveness, or enhance your temper and well-being? If so, think about adopting the next tricks to reap the advantages of digitally disconnecting, even only one step at a time.

For the Aspiring Digital Minimalist

Resist checking your telephone upon waking up, and put your telephone away/on silent by a given time every evening.

Ditch your telephone at meals and whenever you’re within the firm of others.

Reflect in your social media habits and see in the event that they serve affirming, value-driven functions.

Disable social media notifications to keep away from compulsive phone-checking.

Clear your feeds of accounts that induce envy, anxiousness, anger, FOMO, and many others.

Consider taking a “technology Shabbat” in the future per week.

For the Newbie Social Media Detoxer

Set an attainable timeframe to your detox, and write down your intentions and objectives for disconnecting.

Take stock of modifications in your every day habits, mind-set, and high quality of IRL interactions all through the method.

Reintroduce platforms by the top of your detox. (That is, if don’t select to remain off for longer). Devise a method to make sure your renewed social media use gives worth (vs. poisonous patterns and time-wasting) and abides by new requirements for good and constructive use.

For additional inspiration, I extremely advocate studying Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport, Silence within the Age of Noise by Erling Kagge, and Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now by Jaron Lanier.

The post Here’s Why I Quit Social Media & What I’ve Learned appeared first on Weight Loss Fitness.

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