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leakyrocktarot · 3 years

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What are epidermis pedestrians? First time I'm coming across that word... And your blog so I'm kinda trying to navigate here

An epidermis pedestrian is a "Ski*n W*lker" We don't say the name because it can bring them to you. In the spirit world names are super important and when an entity has your name it can have power over you, and vice versa. Epidermis walkers are beings that can slip into the skin of literally anything to stalk and hunt its prey. An epidermis walker can even take the form of a "Not Deer" Though they are two different things, they can be of the same entity. They originate from Navajo culture, and are called The Yee Naldlooshii and are often times mistaken for wendigos. In Navajo culture, epidermis walkers are derived from ’ánt’įįhnii, which in our terms would be a witch. It is said that after initiation an ’ánt’įįhnii has the ability to become a Yee Naldlooshii. Not all witches are epidermis pedestrians, but all epidermis pedestrians are witches. It is important to note that not all witches are evil, not all of them practice baneful magic, they are a part of two different worlds. "In some stories, people who have attained the highest rank are called clizyati, which means pure evil. This can be achieved by killing a close blood relative, incest, necr0phili4, or other culturally taboo and evil acts. Upon completing one or more of these acts is said to destroy their humanity and allow them to become fully initiated in the way of witchery."

An epidermis pedestrian can take the form of a coyote, wolf, fox, eagle, owl, or crow, but they have the ability to change into whatever animal they need for whatever purpose they need it for. Again I will say Do Not Say The Name Out Loud, Ever. It calls them to you as if you have a target on your back, like being marked by a hunter. I made the mistake of doing it, and there was this bird that followed me for days and it was unlike any other bird. I shit you not, it flew in circles, upside down, and even backwards. I swear to you sometimes it looked like it was hovering in one place. Take note of how animals walk and act around you. If it is a predatory animal and it clearly doesn't think of you as prey, it is most likely a epidermis pedestrian. They often take the high ground, so if you see an animal following you especially from a high place, it most likely will be an epidermis walker. Pay attention to how the body moves, unless they are at the highest level it will always reveal itself by being clumsy. The most obvious example is the countless stories about the deer who turned around, but their legs stayed behind. Sometimes it may walk in a shamble, or jutt around, or even have distorted and crooked limbs. If you see one and you look it in the eye, their eyes will glow yellow whether it is day or night. They can only be found in the desert as that is the only place where they can strive. In the rare case of names, epidermis walkers are the only being that will fear your name. If you call out your given name, it will have to wait until the resonance dissipates. They don't have names, they all consider themselves to be a part of the "Shift".

Below the cut is a clip of a person talking about the things their grandfather has told them about epidermis walkers, how to spot them, and more about them.

Skinwalkers typically live in caves where man cannot reach, or on the tops of mesas. Skinwalkers, while being able to shift, must assume their human form during rest. They are still vulnerable to human patterns of existence. So they seek out places of rest that are seemingly unattainable to humans. The Utes would use this to their advantage, and climb nearby cliffs to catch or kill skin walkers when they least expected it. NOTE: Skinwalkers when sleeping are at their MOST powerful. In the state of rest, the strength to shift circulates through their body over and over again. If they are disturbed during rest, they are at their strongest and can kill at an instant. My grandfather told a story of a particularly Nasty group of two skin walkers who killed several children in a Ute village. A group of brave warriors tracked them to a set of cliffs, where there was a giant half dome cave about 200 feet up. The bravest warriors of the Ute tribe in the region snuck up the cliff, and when they reached the half dome cave, they opened fire on the two skin walkers. The skin walkers were not to be deterred, and instantly killed 3 warriors with their bare hands. The remaining Ute warriors kept firing, and finally the skin walkers lunged toward the edge of the cliff, telling the warriors that they would come back for them another day. The skin walkers ran to the end of the cliff and jumped...but The Utes were already two steps ahead. For weeks they had been bringing in dry brush to the valley below the cave, and by the time the skinwalkers jumped, nearly 3 acres of deadfall was piled strategically throughout the valley trees to look natural. The minute the skin walkers left the cliff, the Utes below lit the pitch-covered dead fall, and when the skin walkers landed, they were quickly trapped in a giant raging bonfire. The skin walkers howled so loudly, that it was said the wind whistled like wolves in that valley for another 50 years.

Skinwalkers sloppily shed fur and you can use it to summon them. When skin walkers turn back, it's just as ugly as when they turn. Instead of cleanly shifting back into human form, skin walkers often leave behind chunks of fur, sometimes up to 6 inches long and 2 inches wide, called "bent skin". If you find "bent skin", you can lure a skinwalker by blowing on the chunk of fur into a fire. The skinwalker will instantly follow the scent to your fire, without question, instinctively. The Ute's would use this method whenever they could, but it was very rare to find "bent skin" without actively knowing the footsteps of a skinwalker.

"The White Wind". That is the expression the Utes used to describe the effects of speaking into quartz rocks to a skinwalker. Skinwalkers are greatly weakened by the voice vibrations of a quartz rock. Medicine Men would carry with them giant quartz rocks, and set them upon a cliff to send out warnings to all nearby skin walkers never to come near their camp. This could only be done when the evidence of skin walkers in the immediate area of the camp could be found. It could not be used as a blanket method to ward off would be attacker skin walkers. The Utes thought that quartz resonated with souls, and that if spoken to with the proper countenance from a Medicine Man or Warrior, that the quartz rock could speak directly to the soul of a person or animal. There was one story about a particularly aggressive skinwalker who chose to stand outside the camp in Elk Form to intimidate the tribe. An elder Medicine Man walked to a nearby rock face, put a giant quartz stone on top, and sang the name of the most recent victims to skin walkers over and over again. Within a matter of hours, the elk began violently kicking, turning from human, to elk, and back again, until it finally started taking the shape of the victims who it killed. The Medicine Man then commanded the skinwalker to turn back to its evil elk form, and jump off a cliff to its final death. The next morning the tribe woke up and found the skinwalker in human form split in half over a pointed stump.

If you can find a skinwalker trail, usually characterized by animal footprints with unusual spacings and variations (example: Deer hoof prints that all of a sudden emerge into 10 feet gaps), you can weaken a skinwalker greatly by putting fish remains in its prints. Animals from the water are highly poisonous to skin walkers in the spiritual sense because they represent water, the killer of the desert. The scent of the fish or other water animal will approach the heel of the skinwalker, and cause him to weaken the more he walks. Warriors who found skin walker trails would alert the tribe, and they would spend days fishing our a local river and then preparing the remains to be used against the skin walkers. The Utes would then follow the footprints for miles, leaving fish rot in each skinwalker indentation, and pouring a mixture of water and fish oil near any pissing sites. Sometimes if they followed the skinwalker closely enough, they would find it wandering half dead in the desert and then kill it or capture it. It is important to note that the use of fish in weakening a skinwalker can ONLY be used when following it. It has to do with the skin walkers sense of smell. They smell for miles both forward and backward, and the fish stench, in order to exact harm, must come subtly from behind, otherwise it will be detected and avoided ASAP. So in summary, one cannot catch a fish, post it at their campsite, and expect to ward off a skinwalker for good. One has to use the fish scent carefully to eventually send the skinwalker into ruin.

Skinwalker Ritual Sites. Skinwalkers have religious sites all across the southwestern desert where they congregate from time to time, (no one knows how often), but they know it happens. These religious gatherings usually take place on the tops of mesas or in secret caves only accessible by skin walkers. At these gatherings the most diabolical happenings occur, innocent captives are eaten alive for sport, children are sacrificed, humans are forced to fight to the death, and abducted women are forced to bear every depraved sex act ever conceived - all for the skinwalkers' entertainment. The Utes told a story of the operator of a Spanish Mine who stumbled upon a viewing of such a ritual. The Spaniard had come to them to trade for supplies and had told them he knew of a skinwalker religious festival coming up that he wanted to sneak in to view it from afar. The Utes pleaded with him not to go, and to head back to his homeland for his own safety and the safety of his men. The Spaniard was far too stubborn to listen to a mere "Native" and snuck into a viewing of the ritual. Weeks later, they ran into the same Spaniard. He had aged at least 30 years. His hair was lightning white, and his skin had been charred by fire. The Utes gave him some water. He tried to speak, but each time he did his whole body trembled. Upon trying to speak for a third time, sweat poured out all over his body. But it was not the kind of sweat that would soak on a warrior's back after battle. It was blood coming out of his pores, because sweat had given up. The Spaniard died seconds later, unable to communicate what ungodly things he had seen at the skinwalker ritual. He didn't have to communicate -- the Utes knew.

Skinwalker Ritual Sites - The Ute Response. 3 Generations before the Spaniard died from sheer panic and fear over the Skinwalker ritual, the Utes had their own tragic experience with it. Four women, including two of the wives of the chief had disappeared within a month. Through dreams the two wives of the chief had reached out to the medicine man to let them know that they were being held captive in a giant room underneath a mesa. The Medicine man and the chief assembled all the warriors in the tribe approached the mesa, which was over 100 miles away. When they approached the mesa they saw a sea of bones, which became more pronounced with each step. What used to be dried and withered animal ribs soon became human hips, skulls, and spines. The plants were dead for nearly half a mile in every direction. The Medicine man and the warriors came up with a plan. The warriors would distract the skin walkers, while the medicine man and his team would build a giant lightning rod on top of the mesa. The warriors and the medicine men went their separate ways and carried out the plan. When the warriors found the cave beneath the Mesa, they formed a perimeter around it and waited in the bushes until its rightful king returned. When the skin walkers came out of the brush and into the cave, they opened fire, from all sides, everywhere, nearly painting the mesa with arrows. Before their arrow fire could finish, the Medicine man at the top of the mesa, grabbed a quartz stone and directed lightning to hit his 4 story tall quartz tower. The lightning hit the tower with such a force that the Mesa cracked in half, and covered half of the tribe in rubble. It is said that the skinwalkers came out roasting alive, with smoke pouring out of their eyes, ears and mouth, covered in charred black skin. The captured native women came out soon after, unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises on them. The warriors yelled for the Medicine man to come down, that they had been victorious. The Medicine Man then yelled back: "No victory until dust...." The Medicine man proceeded to conduct 50 more strikes of lightning on the Mesa. With each strike it crumbled, until finally it was reduced to a small sand hill. The medicine man was barely able to walk, so succumbed with forcing the lightning strikes when a warrior approached him and said "Look." The Medicine Man looked and saw a beautiful white bird landing on the small sand hill that used to be the Mesa. The Medicine Man, then grabbed the bird and snapped its neck. The bird turned into a muscular human. The Medicine man said: "Let's find his sand hill." This medicine man who was named Fist of Lightning and Death, went on to destroy 4 mesas, and 3 giant caves, but in his words only "chased the wind" of the skin walkers.

#skin walkers #epidermis pedestrians #meat sack runners #skinwalker #The Yee Naldlooshii #’ánt’įįhnii #lore #mythology #crypitid #spiritual entities #entities #spiritual practices #spiritual journey #lower vibrational spirits

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glimmerglanger · 4 years

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Whumptober 2020 - Day 9

Day 9 of Whumptober, part 9 of the oof!au. And now we come to the turning of the tides. This one is SUPER long (6k) and is also the only part of the series to have a split POV.

General Info: Post Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan.

WARNINGS: Mentions of past torture and loss of a limb. Implications of non-con. Mistreatment of a prisoner. Fall-out of mind control. Mentions of/thoughts about suicide. Death (including a major character. For the sake of spoilers, I’m not going to say who dies, but if you need to know before you read shoot me a msg and I’ll tell you).

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?

On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

Victory left Vader feeling warm inside, pleased. For a time. He got what he wanted, what he deserved, Obi-Wan begging for his forgiveness, using his proper title, obeying. He got all the apologies he was owed, and it only cost a few bodies, slumped against a wall.

Obi-Wan’s agony and horror filled the entirety of the Force, ratcheting higher with each clone that died. He was such a weak fool. They were nothing, just things, and broken things at that, for all that Obi-Wan carried on, his pain so large it felt like a living creature, sucking up all the air in the room, filling every possible piece of Vader’s mind, battering at him from across their bond.

He’d never, actually, felt pain like that from Obi-Wan before. Never once. It brought back memories of their time on Zygerria, where similar emotions had swirled out of Obi-Wan’s head, but… Obi-Wan had more control, back then.

Under Vader’s command, he cracked and broke, shattering like glass each time Vader so much as threatened one of the clones. It was ridiculous. Every single one of them would happily put a blaster bolt in Obi-Wan’s head, and yet he fell to his knees and he groveled and he said, obediently, whichever words Vader wanted.

He did whatever Vader wanted, without protest, without hesitation, for all that his expression was some blank and empty thing. Sometimes, Vader had one of the clones shot, anyway, just to make sure Obi-Wan didn’t lose track of the stakes.

He did everything Vader wanted, so agreeable, the great General Kenobi brought so low. Finally put into his place. Agreeing, with the rasp that remained of his voice, that Vader was right to take his arm, stretching it out, head bowed, fair was fair, after all. Agreeing that he’d been wrong. Agreeing while his agony curled through the Force, staining everything.

Vader worked to hold onto the initial pleasure of his victory, fought for it, temper growing worse as Obi-Wan spoiled things, once more. He could barely breathe, around Obi-Wan’s cursed emotions, by the time it became obvious that Obi-Wan needed to go to the medbay, no longer shaking, no longer doing much of anything but breathing shallowly, gone pale all over, staring at the troopers, intently.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan was murmuring, barely audible, as a pair of troopers lifted him and carried him away - strange that they had not dragged him, Vader considered, but only briefly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept repeating, as they carried him through the door. He had been slurring the words for some hours.

Vader appreciated the apologies, but, truly, they were far too little too late.

He turned away as the door shut, moving to look out over the open viewport along the side of the room, staring out across the lava fields below. He curled his hands around the railing, breathing hard, and reassured himself that he had, in fact, gotten everything he wanted, finally.

He turned away from the view, eventually, and went to check the messages his Master had sent him, over the past days.

Cody warned Crys to watch his expression when they were out of the medbay. To control his emotions. Vader was one of the few Force sensitive people left in the galaxy, as far as Cody knew. That meant he could, technically, pick up emotions.

Cody worked to keep his feelings contained. To stay as blank as possible. But there was fury in him. Fury and rage and guilt and hurt and--

And Obi-Wan had taught him, back during the war, how to breathe slowly and deeply, how to settle himself when the noise in his head got to be too much. Cody remembered sitting beside him, quietly, meditating in a dimly lit room with the sweet smell of incense all around them, listening to Obi-Wan’s breath and falling into the same pattern, so they were breathing as one and, he had imagined, perhaps their heartbeats even changed to match--

Obi-Wan floated in a bacta tank as Cody walked back into the medbay, hours after he’d left, leaving Crys to continue on with their preparation. Obi-Wan’s remaining limbs curled close, like he was trying to make himself small, even while unconscious.

Cody remembered everything his body had done. Remembered, so clearly, giving the order to shoot Obi-Wan down on Utapau, the cool slide of satisfaction in his mind as he’d watched his General plunge into the waste-water pit. He remembered moving out, remembered reassignment, remembered people begging, pleading with him--

He dug his nails up into his palms, when the memories got to be too much, and marched forward, back towards where he’d left Bones. Who was… bent over another trooper, when Cody entered the room, and who snapped, “Don’t say a word.”

And so Cody didn’t, because you listened to the medics when they gave you orders, even when you, technically, out-ranked them. He waited, patiently, moving a bit around the side of the bed to watch as Bones did… something to the side of their brother’s head.

It didn’t take very long before Bones shifted, pressed a bacta patch into place, and looked up at Cody, scowling, to snap, “Chips.”

“Excuse me?” Cody said, considering that the aneurysm may have caused more damage to Bones’ mind than they’d first assumed, adjusting his plan to work around that, and--

“There are chips in our brains,” Bones said. “Frontal lobe. I assume that’s what’s controlling us, because I’ve removed four of them so far, and the results have been favorable.”

Cody blinked at him, struck, abruptly, by how good it was to have his brothers back, to have help, to remember that Bones was every bit as competent as he was, if with the tools of the medical bay instead of combat planning. “Where are they?” he asked, “The ones you freed?”

“Waiting for you,” Bones said, mouth quirking, his eyes hard and flat as Cody’s felt. “I sent them to the barracks and told them not to draw attention to themselves. Guv is going to stay here, though. He’ll help me, we’ll move twice as quickly.”

Cody nodded, calculations streaming through his head. There wasn’t much of the 212th left. Their men had been thrown onto the front lines in the immediate aftermath of the war. He didn’t believe for a moment that hadn’t been intentional, another jab at Obi-Wan, even though everyone had thought him dead.

Palpatine and Skywalker had wanted them all dead, at first, just because they were Obi-Wan’s.

The survivors were mostly clustered on Mustafar, such as they were. “How long to free them all?” he asked, as Guv started to stir around.

Bones shrugged. “A few days? Maybe less, if I can find another medic or two.”

Cody reached out and gripped his shoulder. He said, “Good work. Stay out of the way in here, you hear me? Just leave if Skywalker comes by.” To see Obi-wan, he did not add. He didn’t think he needed to. “But make sure I’m informed.”

“Will do,” Bones said, and Cody left him to his work, a piece of his plan that he’d dared only hope for slotting into place. He’d been prepared to bring this entire place down on his own, if necessary. It looked like he was going to have help. He could work with that.

He looked at Obi-Wan again, on his way out of the medbay, bile burning in the back of his throat, and then set his expression. He stared forward and worked to keep his expression cool and blank. Empty. Just like the faces of all of his brothers.

Cody knew every face around him. His men, wiped clean. Emptied. Screaming inside their own heads, the way he’d been. Begging for someone to help, where no one could hear. Trying desperately to regain control of themselves long enough to - to make it stop.

Cody had spent three long years trapped inside the prison of his own mind, watching his body commit atrocities. All he’d wanted was the opportunity to put a blaster to the side of his head and pull the trigger. It had seemed, for so long, the only way to escape.

He’d managed to fight his way to a different kind of freedom. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t been strong enough to do it weeks ago, before--

Before Vader had gotten his hands on Obi-Wan. Before he’d made Cody--

Cody fought to keep his breathing steady and lost, but none of his brothers looked his way as he reached out, bracing a hand against the wall, back curling over as his heart lurched, off-rhythm and agonizing.

He’d beaten Obi-Wan. With his own hands, he’d-- he’d thought about the best ways to cause pain and then he’d done it, methodical. Effective. And he’d - he’d - Force - Obi-Wan had begged him not to and he hadn’t been strong enough to stop, he’d--

Never again, he thought, straightening and continuing towards the door to move through all the expected motions and to check on his brothers, such as they were. The bunk room. That was where Bones had sent those he’d freed.

They were all packed in, barely enough room to walk between the beds. The space felt claustrophobic and empty at the same time, because even when the bunks were all full it was silent. No one talked. No one laughed. They just… moved about. Silent. Ghosts made flesh.

Cody walked between them, memories of the past dogging his steps, drawing to a stop by Swoop, who was… sitting like all the rest of them. They were supposed to be cleaning their blasters. It looked like he’d started the process and abandoned it.

He was sitting, staring straight forward, blaster in hand and shaking, badly, as he slowly raised his arm, his finger on the trigger. Cody’s heart lurched in his chest and he reached out, without even thinking, grabbing Swoop’s wrist with one hand, stripping the blaster away with the other.

He said, quietly, hoping Bones would understand, “Report to the medbay.”

Swoop stared forward, breathing shakily, his ear shiny with red blood, and Cody swallowed, wishing he could do more. “I’ve got you,” he said. “Just go to the medbay. That’s an order.” He’d been able to hear things, while he was trapped.

Swoop must have been listening, because he let out a shuddery breath, and stood, moving without a word towards the door. Cody checked on the rest of his men - his brothers - and found those Bones had freed clustered together, looking over to watch him with haunted, shadowed eyes.

“Come with me,” he said, as he reached them, tilting his head towards the door. He had so much to do and intended to waste no time accomplishing it. He gave them instructions and sent them on their way, smiling grimly as they moved off. He turned on his heel; there was so much to do, and had a moment where he thought everything might go wrong, when he stepped out of the barracks and found Vader walking down the hall, ridiculous cloak flapping behind him.

He resisted the urge to go for his blaster. It wouldn’t work, he reminded himself, and instead drew to attention, the way he’d been forced to do for so long. Cody stared forward, face carefully blank, focusing on being...empty, inside.

He hoped Vader wouldn’t glance towards him and his heart lurched, unpleasantly, when Vader drew to a stop before him. Cody saw his own reflection in the side of Vader’s helmet, the lines on his face deeper, a distortion of himself.

“2224,” Vader said, something pleased and thick in his tone. Gloating. Smug. “Obi-Wan asked if you were alright. Did you know that? So worried you were hurt. The things he did, to make sure I allowed the droids to tend to you. Can you imagine them?”

There was no reason to tell him. No reason at all, except to revel in the hurt he was causing Obi-Wan. Vader, as far as Cody knew, thought they were all… dead inside. Cody fought with himself; he’d been doing that without respite for three years. He’d gotten very, very good at it, apparently. His expression did not twitch as he said, blank, “No, Lord Vader.”

He expected Vader to notice how very badly Cody wanted to kill him. Instead, Vader just said, “You’ll report to my quarters when he’s recovered. I think it’s time we ended his fascination with you.”

And he turned away, resuming his march. Cody exhaled, harshly, as Vader exited through the doors at the end of the hall, heat from the volcanos beyond sweeping in, temporarily, before the doors closed. His hands itched, not with the urge to reach for a blaster. He’d rather beat Vader to death, he realized, with a dark, twisting slant of his emotions, beat him the way Vader had forced him to beat Obi-Wan, until he wasn’t moving anymore and--

But that would have to wait. He was not ruled by his emotions or the flat, cold fury inside of him. He had one possible opportunity to get Obi-Wan out of here. To rescue his brothers. He wasn’t going to waste it.

No one cared where he went around the base. Vader had, after all, left him in charge of so much, ever so confident in the power of his control, in his ability to make Cody do whatever Vader liked. Well, Cody considered, heading for the munitions bay to check on Crys, keeping his expression studiously blank, he was in the mood to do what he liked.

He’d always favored explosions.

Vader wanted nothing more than to enjoy his crowning moment of victory for a little while. He didn’t see why, after all he’d done for the galaxy and his Master, that could not be allowed. But, apparently, he had been silent for too long after his successes.

His Master had sent Tarkin to check on him, as though he were a wayward child. Vader recalled being quite impressed with Tarkin, once. He’d seemed sure of purpose, during the war. Willing to do what needed done.

Currently, Tarkin only irritated him. Lectures appealed not at all to him, but he had his orders and, besides, Obi-Wan would be in the medbay for some time yet. Vader had been forced to punish him, to remind him of his place, to take a pound of flesh; it was nothing Obi-Wan hadn’t taken from him.

And when he recovered enough to be stable, Vader would take the rest of what he was owed.

Tarkin asked after his current projects and sneered at the base and was, generally, an irritant. Vader resisted the urge to lift a hand and strangle the man. His Master would be displeased, if he did.

His irritation built up behind his bones, restrained and held back. This was Obi-Wan’s fault, anyway. If he hadn’t distracted Vader so much, he’d have completed the tasks set before him and wouldn’t have to deal with Tarkin’s overbearing presence, for however long the man decided to stay.

Vader scowled behind his mask, and resigned himself to playing the unwilling host for nearly three days, before Tarkin finally left, apparently satisfied that he’d thrown his weight around enough.

It left Vader’s temper surging through his veins, burning hot and stinging. He sent an order to the medbay that Obi-Wan be dragged from the bacta, ignoring the droid’s complaints that he was not fully healed; apparently, there was some kind of internal damage. “He’ll live,” Vader snapped, “I want him brought to me.”

He needed to settle the pressure in his head, the rage in his blood.

It was, after all, all Obi-Wan’s fault.

Cody worked unceasingly for three days, getting everything moved into place. Exhaustion beat at the insides of his head, forcing him to get his head down for a few hours at a time. He wouldn’t risk ruining the mission because he was kriffing tired, so he made himself wedge into a bunk and shut his eyes, determined.

The nightmares woke him after what felt like moments, leaving him gasping and jerking to sit, vomit rising in his throat. In the nightmares, he saw Obi-Wan, every single time. Begging, bloody, held down and hurt and--

And Cody was the one hurting him, every time.

He swallowed, hard, panting and feeling sweat break out across his skin. His stomach hurt, terribly and his head throbbed. But a few nightmares were less of a punishment than he deserved, for what he’d done. He was going to get Obi-Wan out of here. He was going to drop the entire base into a volcano. He was going to kill Skywalker, with his bare hands, if possible.

And then he’d think of a way to pay for what he’d done, and pay the cost, gladly.

Until then, he scrubbed a hand across his face and stood. He’d slept a few hours. More than long enough. It would have to be. He couldn’t bear the thought of putting his head on the pillow again, of shutting his eyes, of leaving his subconscious free to return to the monstrosities he’d committed.

He loved Obi-Wan. Had loved Obi-Wan for so kriffing long. And he’d still--

Cody pushed the thoughts away, rising from the bunk and meeting Reck’s eyes from the bunk across the aisle. Reck nodded, just a little, barely a sign of movement, but enough to show he was in there.

So many of them were free.

Soon everyone on the base would be themselves again. They’d gotten lucky in that regard, Cody knew. The visit of the Admiral had distracted Skywalker, something Cody hadn’t anticipated. Thus far, Obi-Wan had been the only thing that adequately kept Skywalker occupied and--

And Cody hadn’t been willing to use that distraction again. Skywalker was never going to raise a hand to Obi-Wan, ever. He was never going to get the chance.

Cody held onto that thought, moving out into the base, expression studiously blank, just in case. He threw himself into the last stages of his preparations; making sure the base was wired appropriately was important. Taking care of the ships in the hangar needed handled, as well. They needed one clean - free of any tracking devices - and the rest… well.

Cody wasn’t taking any chances. There’d be no way for Vader to get off of this rock, if somehow Cody failed to kill him directly. He didn’t plan to fail, but having contingencies never hurt anyone.

He spent hours in the hangar, ensuring everything was just so, nodded grimly once finished, and moved back through the base, looking for something else to keep him busy. It was so vitally important that he stay busy. It kept the memories away, kept his thoughts from spiralling inward in a way that made him want to reach for his blaster.

He didn’t think he could kill Skywalker with it. Yet. But lifting it, pressing it to the side of his own temple, was…

He swallowed, marching blank faced down the hall. Those were thoughts for another time. Save Obi-Wan. Kill Skywalker. Blow up the base. Get his brothers out of here. Those were the goals he needed to hold onto. And he gripped them, tight. Focused on nothing else and nothing more.

Cody went to the medbay. There was generally something to do there, and most of the rest of his preparations were complete. Bones almost always had a brother in recovery, someone who needed explanations and comfort, who needed to be told it was alright, now, that it was over, the long nightmare they’d all shared.

Cody went over all the completed preparations one more time, as he reached the medbay, making it two steps in before a jarring sense of wrongness swept over him. He froze, gaze jerked towards the bacta tank where Obi-Wan had been floating, last he checked, and--

“They took him,” Bones said, fast, coming forward and gripping Cody’s arms, his expression distraught, openly so. “Sir, they took him, the droids had orders and Crys and--”

“To Skywalker?” Cody asked, hoping that - maybe - the answer was no. That maybe they’d just dragged him to his cell. That would make everything so much easier. Cody planned to keep Obi-Wan away from Skywalker’s execution, if at all possible.

Obi-Wan had loved the man Skywalker had been, once. He didn’t need to see what Cody was going to do to him.

“Yes,” Bones said, sounding gutted. “What are we going to--”

“How many of us are still chipped?” Cody asked, feeling something cold settle across him, ice itself moving through his veins. There was no more time to wait, then. He’d already failed his promise not to let Skywalker touch Obi-Wan again, but-- Running off immediately wasn’t going to serve any of them.

He needed to set everything into motion. Then he’d run off.

“Less than a dozen,” Bones said, “but it’ll take me hours--”

“Order them to board the ship,” Cody cut in. There wasn’t time to waste on explanations and fretting. “Tell them I’ve ordered general quarters. Lock them in. We’ll deal with them later. I want them out of here now, before anyone can start issuing orders. You’re to stay on the ship with them. Get the medbay made ready. We’re not getting out of this without injuries.”

“Yes, sir,” Bones said, nodding, and turned, just like that, motions suddenly calm and controlled. They’d all been waiting for this such a long time, Cody knew. He certainly had.

He turned on his heel, walking out of the room, ignoring the droids watching them curiously. A few droids were no longer a concern. They wouldn’t be able to get word to Skywalker, anyway. Not if he were - were distracting himself with Obi-Wan again.

Cold fire spread in Cody’s gut as he walked. He’d almost made it to the barracks when an order came over the comm in his ear. It seemed he was wanted, immediately, in Skywalker’s throne room.

He could guess at why, and grinned, small and tight. Skywalker would invite him in, would not even be startled when Cody showed up, because Skywalker had called him. Made it easy, over confident and sure he was in utter control. The throne room was more of a problem than his private chambers. There were automated defenses in there. But Cody had prepared for this eventuality. His knuckles itched.

Cody continued to the barracks and gestured, silently, when he stepped inside. The few of his brothers still under the control of the thing in their heads never even looked up, never saw the signs Cody sketched through the air.

The rest of them, those freed, those ready to fight, stood with grim, determined looks, checking their blasters and straightening their armor. Cody looked over all of them, heart beating steady and sure in his chest, and nodded. They were as ready as they were ever going to be. And he was so tired of waiting. He marched through the halls, men falling in at his back, without a word or hesitation.

He gestured again as they reached Skywalker’s throne room. His brothers nodded, spreading out, pressed to the walls, blasters drawn, ready and waiting, as he blanked his expression and waved the door open, stepping in to get a look at the exact situation they were dealing with before he called in all his back-up.

The throne room smelled like blood and the poisoned, volcanic air from outside, in a way that dropped the bottom out of Cody’s stomach. The room was brightly lit, not even the brief mercy of shadows there to hide the sights that awaited.

Obi-Wan was there, and Cody’s heart ached to see him. He was kneeling on the floor, head down, beside Skywalker, who was sitting on that throne of his, the ugly, brutal shape of it looming through the smoke that had been allowed to billow into the room. Cody resisted looking towards the open window, an itching sense of anticipation in his bones.

Skywalker had his legs crossed, a chain wound around one hand, connected to the collar at Obi-Wan’s throat. Obi-Wan’s right arm hung limp by his side, unbond. Cody swallowed bile, the abbreviated end of Obi-Wan’s left arm a condemnation, another way he’d failed, and he’d--

“Come here,” Skywalker ordered, voice a boom, and Cody remembered when he’d sounded like a boy, those first few months of the war. That boy had grown into a monster. Cody wished, absently, that he’d killed Skywalker long ago. Years ago. If only he’d known.

He walked forward, assessing the situation. Some of his brothers were already in the room. But that wasn’t a surprise. Skywalker liked to keep guards around, and perhaps he intended to force Cody to kill them. Or, Cody considered, eyeing the blasters they already held, perhaps they were to be his executioners.

They were all but two of them awake.

He hoped Skywalker enjoyed the surprise he was about to get. It had been far too long in coming.

Cody came to a stop in front of the throne, staring forward, waiting for the perfect moment, and Obi-Wan hitched in a breath, rasping - his voice was still barely a whisper, strained and hoarse, “Please, please, don’t--”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak,” Vader snapped, jerking on the chain, and Cody’s hands tightened into fists. He fought to keep his emotions calm and still. “I told you,” Skywalker continued, after a moment, “that 2224 has been experiencing defects. I think it’s time we resolved that.”

Cody watched Obi-Wan go still, strangely and totally. Centering himself, Cody realized. Preparing for something.

“I know how I’d prefer to handle the execution. We could see how long it would take, if you like,” Skywalker continued, voice thrumming with implications. “But you could, perhaps, convince me to make it painless.” He tugged on the chain, again, jerking Obi-Wan forward against his legs, even as he uncrossed them, and Cody was going to--

“Yes, Lord Vader,” Obi-Wan said, before Cody could signal the other troopers, sliding his hand up Vader’s leg, and there was no more time to wait because Cody wasn’t letting this happen again. Never again. Never--

He made a sign, sharp and short, by his hip, and everything went mad, all at once.

Vader made a harsh, furious sound, standing and throwing Obi-Wan back, viciously. Cody blinked, because there was a flash of red, and for a moment, Cody thought that Vader had drawn his lightsaber and killed Obi-Wan and--

The red went with Obi-Wan, who hit the ground, rolled, and came up on one knee, glowing lightsaber in hand and blood streaking down his chin as he rasped, “You’re not going to hurt them, ever again, Anakin.”

That was when the first explosions started going off, right on schedule.

It was when Vader roared an order to kill him.

And it was when his two chipped brothers opened fire.

Vader told Obi-Wan, when he was dragged in and dumped across the ground, that he had a special treat planned. He enjoyed the way Obi-Wan shuddered at the words, the way his emotions tangled and warped, dread and even still some scraps of determination threading through him.

Obi-Wan still thought he had a chance, even after everything. Even after Anakin had taken his arm - and he thought, perhaps, after he handled 2224, he’d take a leg, make Obi-Wan see exactly what he’d done, make him live it. He was going to undo Obi-Wan, utterly. It simply might take longer than he’d first hoped.

In any case, wrapping Obi-Wan’s chain around his hand and dragging him closer had settled some of the anger left behind by Tarkin’s visit. Obi-Wan still moved like he was hurt inside, carefully, a soft sound punching out of him as Vader dragged him into place.

He considered, for a moment, that something should be done about Obi-Wan’s right arm. There was no easy way to restrain it, though, and anyway, what was he going to do? The collar around his neck prevented him from acting against Vader’s will. And, if that failed, well…

There were troopers in the room. They’d proven so effective at getting Obi-Wan to listen. Just the threat of their deaths was more than enough to have Obi-Wan begging for mercy he wasn’t going to receive. A few executions were a good way to remind Obi-Wan of who was in control.

Still, Vader planned only one such execution for the evening. He’d grown tired of seeing 2224’s face around the base. He had a sneaking suspicion that Obi-Wan was thinking about the defective damn thing, that, even when he was with Vader, his thoughts were elsewhere. Another betrayal.

Besides, 2224 deserved to die for everything it had done during the war, for taking Obi-Wan’s focus away, distracting him.

Vader called it in, sitting back on his throne and relaxing. Tarkin had gone. He had Obi-Wan. He’d soon be rid of 2224. He’d gotten what he wanted and shuddered, just for a moment, at the way the realization left him feeling strange and hollow.

He focused on the twist and ache of Obi-Wan’s emotions as 2224 marched in to face its execution. Obi-Wan’s agony was so rich, so complex. He hadn’t hurt nearly so much when Vader took his arm. That had just been… pain. Physical. Fleeting. The way he split open as Vader told him exactly what was going to happen to 2224 was so much thicker. Choking. Spilling into the Force.

Vader’s mouth twitched behind his helmet - it was wrong that Obi-Wan cared so much about some thing, a clone, anything that wasn’t him - and he jerked on the chain, only slightly mollified when Obi-Wan slid a hand up his leg.

How many times had he thought about Obi-Wan touching him like this? Obi-Wan kneeling between his spread legs, head bent forward, focused on making him feel good? They should have had this before, Padmé would have understood, Vader could have made her understand.

His respiration quickened with anticipation. He knew exactly when he planned to order 2224 executed. He’d order it to kill itself, he decided, after making it watch. After he had Obi-Wan’s mouth on him, after--

His sweet musings were interrupted when Obi-Wan’s emotions shifted, all at once, agony and grief peeling away to reveal something cool and calm and flat. He jerked at the same instant he felt Obi-Wan’s fingers curl around his lightsaber, and--

Vader shoved him back, immediately, with the Force, the saber activating even as he tossed Obi-Wan across the room. A second later and it would have carved up through his gut. Obi-Wan had activated it while it was pressed close to his skin, had intended to kill him and--

Fury and betrayal swirled through Vader’s mind as he lurched to his feet, drawing the Force around him, watching Obi-Wan grip his lightsaber, the red blade glowing across his skin, his eyes fierce and blue, sharp all of a sudden, all the misery he’d worn just pulled away, like a mask, like they’d been put-on, which was impossible.

Vader snarled, reaching for the controls for the collar, and the ground shook under him. Around the room the troopers were moving, suddenly, opening fire on 2224, who jerked away, impossibly, he should have stayed where he was, unmoving, not fired back at them, grunting when a blaster shot caught him in his side before some of the other troopers opened fire, taking out each other, not--

Vader didn’t understand what was happening. It didn’t matter. He moved to activate the controls, to bring Obi-Wan to heel, and 2224 said, “Skywalker.”

Vader blinked, surprise making him look over, sure he’d misheard and--

“For Trip,” 2224 said, calm and flat, as he shot the controls on Vader’s arm, sparks jumping out of the suit even as the rest of the troopers not on the ground opened fire on him. Vader roared in fury, unsure how Obi-Wan had managed this, how he’d managed to corrupt the clones’ programming, but none of that mattered.

Vader could figure that out later. After they were all dead. He lashed out with the Force, throwing them back, lifting three of them into the air at once, grip choking around their throats. He would kill them, oh yes. All of them, one after another, the entire 212th, ending with Obi-Wan. He’d make Obi-Wan watch each of them die, make sure he couldn’t look away, make sure--

He tightened his grip in the Force and made a hoarse, surprised sound when the troopers fell, anyway, his power pulled apart. The Force shifted in the room, swelling up, sweet and sharp, and he looked over, confusion coursing through him, to find Obi-Wan on his feet, saber shaking, breathing hard, what remained of his left arm stretched out.

“I won’t let you hurt them. Ever again,” Obi-Wan panted, eyes blazing, power coursing out of him, holding Vader back, which was impossible. Obi-Wan had ever been able to match him, but Vader had taken care of that, restrained him--

And the collar lay on the floor, twisted, the edges still smoking faintly from the blade of his saber. Vader snarled, moving towards Obi-Wan, fury building in his bones, all his focus on his old master. Blaster bolts hit across his shoulders and back, his chest, deflected by all the shielding in his suit, and then there was another explosion, closer, rocking the room.

Sparks jumped inside his systems, when it hit, a few warnings going off and silencing at once. His respiratory system stopped responding; as did his cardiac. The next blaster bolt hit true, and he stumbled back a step, and then another, as more bolts hit him.

He needed to get out, get away from this madness. Institute repairs. His chest split with agony as his heart struggled to keep beating without mechanical support. He wheezed, gasping for breath inside his helmet, driven back further, until he hit the wall, gripping at the edge of the window.

“No!” he panted, raising one hand, rage and sharp fear echoing through him, allowing him to pull hard on the Force. He lashed out at Obi-Wan, the source of all of this trouble, and heard him cry out, sharply, as half the room came down in the grip of Vader’s power.

Stone and rock spilled across the floor, choking dust swirling through the air, giving Vader a moment to sway, his access to the Force no longer so restrained. Everything hurt. He didn’t - it was impossible. There were alarms going off, everywhere, and no one had come to help him. He hurt. He’d--this was all wrong. Impossible and wrong.

He looked around, as the air currents rising off of the lava moved through the room, clearing some of the smoke. He found cold, furious faces everywhere, and Obi-Wan, up on one knee, somehow, looking up at him with his shining blue eyes, saber dropped so he could extend his right hand, shaking with the effort of restraining Vader’s use of the Force.

The troopers opened fire on him, all at once and it - his suit wasn’t working properly. He felt each impact, terrible.

“Master!” he wailed, unable to breathe, heart stuttering, tripping, because Obi-Wan had so many weak spots and he knew he was one of them. Obi-Wan wouldn’t let them actually kill him. It wasn’t the Jedi way, after all.

A blaster shot caught him dead center in his helmet, shoving him back, almost over-balancing him. “For Dart,” 2224 said, flat, as Vader gripped at the edge of the open window. 2224 stared at him, his eyes dark and terrible even as he bled from the blaster wound in his side, even as he made a sharp sign with his hand and the blaster fire stopped. “For all our brothers.”

Vader gasped, choking, planning to take advantage of their foolish mercy. He started, “Obi-Wan--”

And 2224 said, “Yes,” grimly. “For Obi-Wan.” And he pulled the trigger once more, stepped forward while Vader was reeling, and kicked him, impossible force behind the blow. Vader made a sound, heard it echo in his helmet, as he overbalanced, grabbing for the edge of the window and missing and--

Cody leaned out over the side of the window, listening to further explosions go off, exactly as they should have. The EMP had worked well, he thought. A nice touch. It would have been enough to take Skywalker out, even without Obi-Wan’s help.

But Obi-Wan’s help meant they hadn’t lost more men, and--and that split something open, inside Cody’s chest. Obi-Wan had still fought for them. After everything, he’d tried to put himself between them and Skywalker.

And so Cody stared down into the lava, so far below, watching as it closed over Vader’s head, his one outstretched hand. He ignored the pain in his side, hot and cold at the same time, and the feel of blood sliding across his skin. The shot had gone clean through and he knew he was losing blood, lots of it.

It didn’t feel terribly important, at the moment. “Sir?” Crys asked, stepping up beside him, blaster still in hand. “Did you get visual confirmation?”

Cody spat over the edge, turned away, and said, “Yes. He’s dead. Let’s go.”

They weren’t done.

Not yet.

He’d killed Skywalker. He’d freed most of his brothers and the rest were going to be sorted. All that was left, he considered, turning away from the fire, was getting Obi-Wan out of here. Making him safe and never letting anyone hurt him, ever again.

#whumptober2020 #no.5 #rescue #clone wars #fic #torture #mentions of non con #mentions of suicide #character death #loss of a limb #mistreatment of prisoners #mind control #oof!au #my writing #codywan #vaderwan #please heed the warnings #i've been waiting for this part for so long

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

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The Daryl and Leah Spoilers - Everybody BREATHE!

Okay, let’s talk about it. We’re gonna have to talk about it. The Crappiest Spoilers of All Time. (We’ll just abbreviate them CSAT, okay?)

Yes, I saw them. Yes, I spent most of the day yesterday talking about them with people. Yes, we went up and down and forward and back and right and left trying to figure out what the hell. Actually, I literally got 68 Asks about this yesterday. 68! Lol. I may have sarcastically told a couple of people it was 400. It wasn’t that high. But even when something big happens, I don’t generally get more than about 20, so this was a lot.

***Below I’ll be talking about all kinds of spoilers for 10x18! If you’re not someone who wants to know, stop reading now. You’ve been warned!***

Okay, let’s start by attacking this head-on.

Does this suck? Yes.

Am I happy about it? Obviously not.

Does it change my opinion about Beth’s return? Not in the slightest.

And in all seriousness, I’m not trying to make light of this. I totally understand how everyone is feeling right now and I feel the same. But if you’re doubting or losing hope, please keep reading. I really think the things I have to say after talking to people in the fandom literally all day yesterday will make you feel better.

So I’m going to talk about some things that are suspicious to me about this, and also about some reasons why, even if it’s exactly what it looks like, we don’t really need to worry. I’m also gonna give you a possible way this could actually be okay, but I’ll warn you that scenario is mostly head canon and not super likely to be the case.

Context

The first thing I’m going to point out is that we really, REALLY do not have the full context for this episode. CSAT are big, but there’s a lot we don’t know about what’s going on here. I have a thousand questions and we can’t really be sure of anything until we know the answers. Which we won’t until we see the episode.

And I don’t mean things that make me doubt CSAT are true. I mean like, what is Leah doing out there? Why did no one else ever meet her? Why did she disappear? Did she go on her own because she’s a jerk, or was she taken? Is the CRM involved? We simply don’t know.

These are just a few, and the answers might profoundly effect the way we view these events. So, I’m just saying there’s a lot we can’t be sure of and we should be taking these with a grain of salt. I’ll come back to these questions in a minute.

The Psychology

So, my first reaction to this was that it’s not entirely unrealistic. Is it out of character? Yes, for sure. They’ve pegged Daryl as a character who wouldn’t do something like this, so it’s definitely out of character for him. I’m totally with ya on that. But I also feel like this isn’t a real relationship for him. What I mean is, it might be something of a rebound or an act of desperation on his part.

Think about what we know about this part of his life. He’s just lost Rick and is devastated. According to these same CSAT, Carol abandons him. AGAIN. I think he’s feeling very depressed and lonely and would reach out to just about anyone at this point. It doesn’t mean he’s in love with her. And yes, I know about the note he wrote to her, but I still think that can be explained by his state of mind. If he’s not feeling like he belongs anywhere else, and Carol has specifically told him she’s not coming back, why wouldn’t he go with someone who’s promising him companionship? I don’t like it, and I know it’s not what everyone wants to hear, but I do understand it.

I promise I’ll move onto happier things. Like this:

Patterns:

We’ve seen this pattern with A LOT of the TWD couples. They put one or both of them together with a small, short-term love interest. And that always happens RIGHT BEFORE they hook up with their soul mate. So, let’s review, shall we?

Carol had Tobin, and right after she left him, she met Ezekiel. Rick kissed Jessi, and only a month after she died, he and Michonne finally got together. Enid was with Ron when we first met her, but it was obvious Carl was meant to be her true love. You could even point to Abraham and Rosita. Their relationship was a bit longer and more established than these others, but the fact is Rosita wasn’t Abe’s soul mate. Sasha was. And now Rosita is with Gabriel, so…

My point is that Leah may be Daryl’s Jessie. Or Tobin. Take your pick. But the pattern is that this will be short term and he should be finding his true soul mate VERY soon after. Just saying.

Is This a Healthy Relationship?

Someone in my group pointed this out. CSAT says she asks him to choose between her and the rest of his life. I didn’t think much about that until one of my FB groupies pointed it out, but it’s really not cool to do that to him. It’s almost passive-aggressive. The way I see it, when you fall in love with someone, you want to get to know their family and participate in every part of their lives. If this was a true, committed relationship, she would WANT to go to Alexandria and meet his friends. She would WANT to help him in his search for Rick’s body. But that doesn’t seem to be the case.

So, in terms of how Daryl feels about her, well, loneliness is a different feeling than real love, and I’m not sure this is the healthiest relationship for Daryl to be in.

Scope, or Lack Thereof

The thing that I think most of the fandom is on the same page about is how out of character this is for Daryl. How out of left field this feels.

I’m mean, this is Daryl. Daryl Freaking Dixon. The writers know about the shipping wars. They know that no matter who they pair him up with—Carol, Connie, Beth, Leah, someone else—it’s going to be a huge deal. For them to do it like this just doesn’t make sense.

Now, I don’t think we have a definite timeline on this. We have two possibilities.

1) I’ve seen some people say he’s sleeping with a complete stranger, which is very out of character for him.

2) I’ve also seen posts that claim the two of them meet and develop a relationship over time. That would be less out of character, but it would also mean that the writers developed an entire relationship for Daryl in only one episode…and then took it away.

Does that seem logical to you? I just don’t buy it.

So, at the very least, if this turns out to be what it looks like on the surface—a real romantic relationship for him—I’m gonna say it’s not going to be a big one. It’s not going to be end-all, be-all of Daryl’s love life.

My Praying-This-Headcanon-Is-True-While-Also-Trying-Not-To-Get-My-Hopes-Up-That-It-Is Theory

All right, everyone. I honestly wasn’t sure I should even include this. I don’t want to get people’s hopes up about it. But the more I think about it, the more I think it’s a distinct possibility.

So, @wdway said this first, and I kind of just glazed over it like, “Meh, probably not.” But the more I thought about it, and the more I talked to people and hashed things out, the more sense it made.

Let me go back to some of those questions I asked at the beginning. Why did no one else ever meet Leah when he was in a relationship with her? Yes, because they were out in the woods together, but it talks about him going to see Carol and going to Alexandria and looking for Rick, which is why she asks him to choose in the first place.

But if you have a sustained relationship with someone, why wouldn’t you introduce them to your friends? Why wouldn’t he have taken her to Alexandria with him? It’s really odd to me that this happened at a time when Daryl was completely on his own out in the woods and NO ONE in his life ever saw or met her.

(Once again, I have to point out that with how vague CSAT are, we can’t know for sure that no one else knew about her. Maybe when we watch the episode, it will show that someone did, but this is the vibe I’m getting right now.)

What else do we know about this point in his life? He’s deep in the throes of his grief over Rick, he’s withdrawn to his robotic, survival mode, which he always does when he’s lost someone close to him, Carol has just abandoned him, and he’s lonely. People who spend too much time alone DO tend to go a little crazy.

So, here it is:

Is there any chance this Leah woman…could be a hallucination?

Honestly guys, that makes WAY more sense to me than that she’s real. Because everyone in the fandom who’s saying this is out of character for Daryl is 100% right. Everyone who’s asking why the writers would do this is 100% right to be asking that question.

And let me tell you, it’s not just us asking it. The entire fandom is. Obviously, all the shippers. And while I’m sure there are some in the non-shipping fans who are glad Daryl is getting a love interest, even they think it’s a little weird. Cuz, you know, it is.

But this show regularly does hallucination story arcs, and Daryl himself even has a history of it. I’m just saying.

People have also suggested that it would sort of makes sense given what I said above about the “unhealthiness” of their relationship. Maybe her wanting him to choose was really more about his sanity and leaving the delusion behind. Again, just a thought.

Then there’s the suspicious timing of CSAT.

Suspicious Release of CSAT and Hype

While messaging with @monroelibrarian0626, she said something I hadn’t thought of that made a lot of sense. Does anyone else find it suspicious that they said we wouldn’t be getting screeners for several weeks and then literally two days later all these spoilers about Daryl’s sex life drop?

It’s not rocket science to know that tptb intentionally leaked these to drum up viewership. Everyone is totally going to watch to see what this is all about. But it also seems to me that they may be releasing just enough information to get everyone all hyped up and then it won’t end up being what it seems. Here, I’ll just give you part of my text message with her because she explains this point better than I do.

But yeah, I get that impression that she's not real, and that's really good promotion and hype for the producers to draw in more viewers. Don't miss it! Daryl is gonna have sex! And then, boom! You find out it's a hallucination. I remember with LOST, there was a preview for next week's show, and in it, the Korean guy, Jin, was shown saying, "It's going to be alright." And he didn't speak English then, in season 2, so it was like, OH MY GOD! And here, when the episode aired, Jin speaking English was part of Hurley's hallucination. Could be along the same lines! --@monroelibrarian0626

Doesn’t that just make a certain amount of sense? Especially given how out of character this feels for Daryl? No matter what you think of the writers on this show, they just really don’t betray the way they’ve set up their characters like this.

Now, once again, I’m really not hanging all my hopes on this. I’m preparing myself for the outcome of her being real and this being a real relationship for Daryl. Mostly because I don’t want to get my hopes too high. And I would suggest you all make your peace with that being the case. I’m just throwing this out there as a possibility. Even TD aside, given how out of character this feels, it would make more sense to me than that they’ve actually put him in this relationship.

It could also that once we actually see the entire episode, depending on what the other details of the story line are, it might be really obvious that she’s real and the detail will explain a lot of this away. That’s a real possibility. Once we learn about other parts of the episode, everything I’ve said here could easily go straight down the toilet.

Another outcome is that she could be a hallucination, but we won’t even know it because Daryl doesn’t. If he doesn’t realize she wasn’t real, the viewers might not be told that, either.

Other Things I’m Side-Eyeing

Check out this tweet, specifically the emojis he uses. Don’t you find those suspicious? Fish? A violin? A sunrise? Boat? Hourglass? Now, this guy got a screener. He’s not one of the writers or someone close to the show who would know the overarching grand plan, so I’m not suggesting he has some inside knowledge of Beth’s return.

But why would he use these emojis? There’s no reason for him to tie them to Leah. The only answer there can be is that he saw these things in the episode. He simply added them to the tweet as hints of what we can expect. And if all those symbols are represented in the episode, this is going to be a super heavy Beth-symbolism episode.

Not to mention, have you checked out Leah’s costuming in detail? Her boots are damn close to what Beth’s looked like. And sitting on the porch, the bag on her back looks a LOT like the one Beth carried in Still.

I feel like she’s a Beth stand-in. And I think that will be true whether she’s real or not. Again, if we go with the Tobin/Jessi/Ron pattern, she’ll be a forerunner of Beth, so having Beth symbolism around her isn’t surprising.

But once again, this isn’t something we need to worry about.

And don’t even get me started on the damn cabin motif. I’ve been thinking about this since I did my 5x09/Tyreese post last week. I’m not going to go into details here because I don’t even have it all straight in my head yet, but it has some interesting ramifications for this Daryl/Leah situation.

So, pretty much everything that everyone is saying (including me) is pure conjecture until we actually see the episode. I know that’s probably not very helpful, but it’s the truth.

So, what’s my main point about this? It’s this:

I hope she’s a hallucination, but even if she’s not, it doesn’t bother me overly much. I mean, of course I’m bothered because I don’t like to see him in a relationship with her, but I mean I’m not bothered where Beth is concerned. It doesn’t change the fact that I think she’ll still be back, and this will just be a blip of some kind in Daryl’s story. And if she’s real, and it’s following the Tobin/Jessie/Ron pattern, Beth (his true soulmate) should be surfacing VERY soon thereafter.

So, we basically don’t know anything until we do, and I know the fandom is collectively losing its mind. I know this is going to be hard to get used to. But try to make your peace with it, in all its possible iterations. Try not to let it freak you out. Hold the line, TDers. Hold the line!

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years

Text

True Colors

Looking at my old messages from FF.net, I found this old descendants story so I decided why not, I'll post it. Heavily inspired by @screaminginternallyalleternity's Jane characterization and JanexCarlosxJay ship. Mainly cuz I had been messaging her. Anywho, hope y'all enjoy.

"So what do you say?" Jordan asked taking a huff of silph.

"It's funny." Jane smiled dreamily, her mind already wandering off as the effects of the silph relaxed her. Though she was sharing her room right kow, she felt at peace and alone, and safe.

"No no" Jordan said waving her hand as if to clear the fumes "I'm serious, we should go to the homecoming dance as ourselves. Our natural forms."

Jane was tempted to roll her eyes at Jordan's ridiculous idea. Go to the dance in their real forms. Ones that were technically "banned" because of how obvious they were magical. Ones that she hid all these years.

She wanted to roll her eyes but Jordan was being oddly insistant about it.

"Why?" Jane asked, evading having to answer or even think about her playing a role in this scheme. She couldn't. She never showed her form to anyone. Her blue freckles were disguised with concealer, her wings and tattos carefully hidden through clothes in which she had never taken them off ever.

"Just for fun. To show those stupid mortals what they are missing? How dare they make us hide what we really are and suppress ourselves." Jordan snorted, clearly gearing up for her usual rant against mortals and the magic ban. "So worried about what we could do to them. How we are technically better than them, hotter than them"

"That's just the silph talking" Jane said softly but already she could feel her panic coming. Barely but it was there. The silph was suppressing it making a odd conflicted emotion.

She felt like she was about to drown, her head trying to reach the surface for a breath of frenetic air and energy but also underwater where it was calm and still.

"No, I thought of doing it before...Non-silph talking. Zoning out during class and stuff."

"Really?" Jane said, trying to keep the conversation heading back to her.

"Yeah. Like one time when I was 13, I had really considered it. Sorta stupid and immature. I wanted to show up Audrey. You know, because of how she is always bragging how she is the prettiest and the fairest. Also I used to have a crush on Ben."

"You had a crush on Ben" Jane murmured.

She never would have guessed, Jordan didn't seem the type. She always figured she would be with a more confident, brash person. And a Fae at that too considering how she always complained of mortals.

"Ben's...Ben. He's so generous and caring. Unselfishness, such a turn on." Jordan sighed wistfully.

"If it's just for the dates, you shouldn't do it." Jane advised.

"But it's not just the guys. It's showing off to the girls too. It's an ego boost. Aren't you tired of being ignored, and considered to be plain when you just KNOW that you could top those mortal girls any day of the week." Jordan protested.

Jane blanched. No! That sounded horrible. It was enough people thought of her as a freak and avoided her now. Not that she wanted to hang out with others and their shallowness. She didn't want people to look at her like she was some sort of object. Her form wasn't even that pretty. "But but it looks weird, it's not pretty." She said.

"Please." Jordan scoffed. But seeing Jane's uncertainty she changed to a softer tone.

"Even if you don't think so. The mortals will. I mean I have bright pink skin for goodness sake" she pulled at her pink streaks "That doesn't look good but the people think it's hot as hell. It's because we are Fae. It's a novelty, we are exotic and exotic is erotic. It reminds them of who we actually are. Magical, mysterious, thus incredibly unattainable and sexy." Jane looked down nervously, taking long calming breaths. "I'm not doing it."

To Jane, this step of showing off was too overwhelming and intimate. Her wings, her tattoos were personal. Whenever she did unfurl her wings alone she felt exposed but free because she was alone. To do that with people staring at her would be unthinkable and clustraphobic. These over-entitled royals would see her as exotic alright. A exotic toy or object to be touched and viewed over. Just more bullying over why Jane wouldn't serve them or help them.

Jordan frowned, "I was hoping but I figured you wouldn't. Oh well better yet to make a solo entrence. With your lithe curves you might have taken even more attention than me. After all people wouldn't expect you to do it." Jane sighed. No they wouldn't and she was perfectly fine with playing up to THAT expectation.

Two weeks later was the homecoming dance and Jane waited nervously outside the courtyard doors for her dates, Jay and Carlos. It was the second dance they were coming all together and she felt as fluttery as she did the first time.

They made her feel normal in a way. They all had issues but they understood each other. She felt safe, and even if people stared at the threesome she didn't care. The people that mattered to her were with her. As she waited patiently for the two to show up, she looked around at the expanse of darkness.

How things had changed. She wouldn't have gone to one of these events last year. Too boring. But now with the incursion of VKs there were quiet a few changes even some repeals of the magic ban even though she had disapproved Mal's actions in ignoring the ban and giving magic and an even worse rep.

From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the ornately shaped hedges rustling and went over to it.

She saw Jordan applying the finishing touches of black lipstick as she stared into a compact mirror.

"Hey,” Jane waved.

"Oh hi,” Jordan said distractedly.

"Are you still doing your big entrance?" Jane asked shyly. Even though Jordan seemed fine showing off her form, it still felt like an intimate act to Jane so she felt that it and to be whispered with the respected amount of privacy.

"Yeah," Jordan clipped her compact shut, and transformed.

Jane tried not to be so obvious in her astonishment but her mouth dropped open anyway. She could see what Jordan meant by the pink skin looking odd but at the same time, it was incredibly alluring.

Her hair had lost its' pink streaks and was out of the usual ponytail in long pure black waves. The hair itself looked like it was constantly moving in slow-motion as if she was underwater. Her eye were still light blue but now circled with azure. Same blue eyeshadow with three distinctive spots over her left eye. Her black lips provided a contrast to the skin.

The rest of her body had changed as well. A more pronounced curvy figure to say the least. The light green sleeveless tube top was cut off at the midriff and Jane secretly wondered how the hell it was holding up Jordan's pronounced bust considering that it looked like it was one jump away from popping out completely.

Magic she supposed.

Meanwhile her matching skirt laid loosely over her now obvious hips, and where her legs were, now was a smokey wave as if she had just emerged from a lamp. Jordan had also highlighted her look with shiny jewels that Agrabah was famous for. A diamond/emerald necklace. An amber jewel coming from her belly ring. Tiny ruby, amethyst and Amber jewels decorating the dress itself in patterns. Plus the golden cuff links genies were known by.

It was an awe-ing sight altogether and she couldn't or wanted to look away from how Jordan moved and glistened.

"So that dress..interesting," Jane said.

Jordan tugged on her pointed ear with it's single gold hoop, "I'm the embodiment of wish fulfillment. You learn to deal with the no clothes thing."

Jane merely nodded than comment, "It's cool that you're doing this. I just wouldn't...it's scary."

"I know, I'm scared too." Jordan said which took Jane aback. She had showed no fear throughout this whole thing.

"You think I don't know what might happen. Being objectified, moreso than usual. More demands for wishes. The usual entitled mortal comments. People that forgot how magical I am will remember, and want favors. Trust me. I'm sticking by Aziz or Ben the entire night. No casual one night stands today." "You don't have to do it." Jane assured her.

"I'm going to." Jordan said firmly "Even though I hate how people see me. I hate hiding who I am even more. Hiding magic is painful, and using silph is okay but still that is a small consolation. There has to be more."

Jane thought of Starlight Valley with her father. How wonderful it was. "Good luck then" Jane murmered as Jordan started toward the door. Then paused to pull up Jordan's tube top up a little more so the bust was safely cradled in them. Even though it still looked a bit unlikely to stay that way.

"Thanks. Have fun tonight." Jordan said and went inside.

Jane resumed her position outside but couldn't ignore the pounding wave of thoughts she felt from inside. As well as the actual noise of whistles and catcalls.

Jane sighed and summoned some courage and wiped off the concealer from her cheeks as Carlos and Jay ambled toward her. The move revealed her light blue freckles that danced across here face.

"Hi Jane" Carlos smiled with a hint of nervous excitement. His bright white teeth made an unconscious smile dance across her lips. "Pretty" Jay, ever the blunt one, poked at her cheek, to which Jane playfully swatted his hand away.

"Have you always had them?" Carlos asked as he took her hand. "Yeah" Jane bit her lip, smiling.

"They're pretty" Carlos complimented "They match your eyes."

Jane nodded her head bs shrilly and grabbed Jay's hand to head inside.

#jordan #jane #fairygodmother #disney descendants #carlos de’vil #jay #son of jafar #true colors #my fanfic #my fanfiction #d1 #poly #jaynlos

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anon-drabble · 4 years

Note

hi, this is the anon from just before, thanks for replying! i was hoping to please request something (headcanons or fic, whatever you’d like!) with zen x mc in which mc is plus sized and has a ton of body image issues and falls into a pattern of skipping her meals to try and cope, and zen’s reactions to that? no worries if you don’t want to write this one, i’m happy reading anything you post! hope you have a good day ^^ -🌻

okay so this has also been in my requests for a while and i want to preface this with some personal stuff so tw for body image and eating disorders

i had (and possibly still have? the jury is out) eating disorders. i had anorexia for a couple of years and when that more or less subsided, i had already done lasting damage to my body. in essence, i starved myself for a good 15 or so years and now i’m paying the price for that. i never lost any weight because i was so close to literal starvation, my body retained everything so i got extremely heavy even though i was eating one meal a week for a good 8-10 years. that’s something they don’t tell you about eating disorders. another is the lasting effects. i now have 2 chronic conditions due to my eating habits and they are painful and when i have flare ups, it is some of the most misery i’ve experienced. so i just want to say: please be careful, everyone. if you can get help, i urge you to do so. i still have body image issues and can’t look at myself even though i am a bit healthier now. so i’m really a poor role model here but that’s why i don’t want anyone else who is suffering to feel like they have to. you don’t. the below is based on something that happened to me. unfortunately it was not zen who found me lol. it’s not easy but there are resources out there to get help. and if you need to talk, my messages and ask box are always open.

now on to headcanons:

ao3 | ko-fi | twitter | masterpost

zen with mc with a negative body image

at first it’s not really obvious to him

even though he’s constantly saying things like “cute” and talking about his own looks, he fell for your personality first

he had no idea what you looked like

so when you met him the first time, all nervous about how he’d see you, he was just thrilled to finally meet you in person

and at first it wasn’t bad

it wasn’t until zen went public and you were suddenly in the public eye as his girlfriend

that’s when you really started to spiral

skipping meals was easy with zen because he never ate all his meals at home from his busy schedule

and after a few months, you just stopped being hungry

sometimes you felt faint but it wasn’t bad

but you didn’t really lose weight

you just lost energy and stamina

eventually, zen wondered why his fridge seemed empty again so often, like it was when he lived alone

like you didn’t have any food for yourself there

that’s when he started to pay attention more

he suspected you weren’t eating but wasn’t sure how to mention it

at first he tried to just over-stock his cupboards to provide you plenty of options

but it didn’t really work

one day he found you passed out at home

(you had overheated from just the sun coming through the window and had fainted)

immediately he rushed you to the hospital

they found that you were severely malnourished

your body initially refused to accept anything, even the simplest of nourishment waged a war inside you

you had to be admitted until you were stable and your body could accept food once more

zen never left your side

he spoke to you for hours about what was going on, how you felt

he asked questions, never dismissing you or judging your views of yourself

wanting to understand why so he could help you

after listening to you and coming to understand some of your concerns about your body, he opened up himself

about his brother and mother, how they decided he was ugly simply because he was actually handsome

how even though he had hundreds and thousands of fans screaming about how attractive he was, he still felt the sting of his family and how he also always had low self-esteem

no one ever expected a narcissist to suffer from self esteem issues but zen still struggled with it

you couldn’t say anything to him that would magically solve that

and he couldn’t magically solve your problem either

but you could love each other deeply and fully

you told zen how you loved his hair, that it made his eyes stand out and that you always found his eyes so expressive and honest

he told you that he loved hugging you more than anyone because you fit perfectly in his arms, no bones poking or prodding, just comfortable warmth

you both made a point of finding things about the other that were physical that you loved but weren’t necessarily beauty-related

because while you both wanted to look good on the outside, superficial compliments meant very little

but pointing out specific physical things that made you happy (the look of concentration when he pulled his hair back, the dimples when you really smiled, how you both always used lotion so your hands would be so smooth when you held hands), things like that actually made you feel good about yourself

and it made it easier to believe

maybe you’d never get over your body image

but you could learn all the reasons why zen loved every aspect of you and he’d never allow you to doubt just how deeply he idolized you

#mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger headcanons #mysme headcanons #zen x mc #hyun ryu #zen headcanons

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 4 years

Text

Episode 133: Dewey Wins

“But...I’m hurt.”

I started reviewing the Week of Sardonyx in late 2017. It was slow going thanks to grad school and student teaching and licensing tests and my job (boy do I not miss those days), but I’d clawed my way through Cry for Help in October and Keystone Motel on the first Sunday of November. In those reviews, I wrote at length about how this was the most devastating arc of the series, a massive argument spanning multiple episodes with no easy answers.

Then the Friday after my Keystone Motel post was uploaded, Cartoon Network dropped the Breakup Arc on us all at once, and I had to make some edits.

There’s no official name for the span of episodes between Dewey Wins and Kevin Party, but considering it features not one but two breakups, with only one reconciliation by the end, I think my nickname is apt. Just under a fifth of Season 5 is devoted to six consecutive episodes designed to make us miserable, and on top of being an outstanding sequel to the Week of Sardonyx, it’s the best precursor we’ve got to adolescent trials of Steven Universe Future.

The Week of Sardonyx is strengthened by numerous previous episodes where Pearl does bad things without consequence, making it something of a shock when her actions are finally addressed. In a similar way, we’ve been taught from Log Date 7 15 2 and Kindergarten Kid and The New Crystal Gems that emotionally draining arcs are followed by cooldown episodes, and Dewey Wins sounds like the name of a fun adventure with our goofy mayor. There’s no situation where the Breakup Arc would be a pleasant affair, but the pattern adds an extra layer of angst as our anticipated relief period ends up more stressful than the arc we needed relief from.

But not every big arc gets a cooldown. Our very first, ending with Jailbreak, is followed by one of the Breakup Arc’s major prequels: Full Disclosure, an episode about missed phone calls and the importance of keeping friends in the loop regarding space adventures. The ghosted party is flipped, as Connie now refuses to talk to Steven, and watching his struggle gives an even greater appreciation for Connie’s own turmoil (not just from Full Disclosure, but Steven’s reckless self-sacrifice).

We know something’s wrong from the moment we see her, in a way that’s different from Greg and the Gems’ wide-eyed concern. Her discomfort manifests just as it did in Mindful Education: a downcast expression and curt demeanor made more apparent by Steven’s cheery chattiness. But because she’s the only one of them that has truly taken the lessons of that episode to heart, she soon expresses her feelings outright (after a brutal “Of course I’m happy to see you”—Grace Rolek only needs one scene to be the episode’s MVP). Her complaints are all valid: this is not the first time she’s been left on Earth, and her sense that Steven isn’t taking her seriously is confirmed when he can’t even take her seriously within the conversation. She’s as direct as she can be, but when Steven refuses to acknowledge her pain, her anger takes over and she shuts him out. Lion’s side-eye is icing on the cake.

My biggest issue with Dewey Wins, however, is Steven. I’m torn, because it’s easy to justify his behavior throughout the episode as a result of recent trauma and the relief at surviving such a harrowing experience (and, later, the same sleeplessness that made him snap in Rose’s Room and Warp Tour). It makes sense that his martyr complex is intensified by his experience with Lars, that he falls back on helping others at the cost of his own well-being on instinct. But his flippant dismissal of Connie’s emotions still feels off, especially because it comes with a heretofore unseen swagger about his own heroism. She pours her heart out, making it clear that she wants to keep being Jam Buds but he’s making it really difficult, but every word goes right over his head. This is a version of Steven that somehow doesn’t get that “hurt” can refer to emotions instead of physical damage.

Throughout the episode, but particularly in this opening scene, Steven feels exaggerated for the sake of honing Connie’s argument. Perhaps it’s necessary, considering how easy it is in first viewing to see his sacrifice as noble rather than selfish; we need to see a more extreme version of his behavior to understand that going it alone was a bad move, or else Connie’s arguments seem small against the scale of the stakes. It’s further complicated by the fact that Steven’s sacrifice was noble, even if it was selfish at the same time. This isn’t a case where Steven is fully right or fully wrong, so it’s bound to be confusing to hear that his traditionally heroic move wasn’t as great as he (or we) first thought.

So yeah, I get why Steven is acting this way for the sake of the show. And, again, I can find reasons to explain his sudden emotional idiocy, making it leagues better than a true Annoying Steven episode. But it still comes across as clumsy to me; I can see the wheels turning to move the plot along in a way that’s normally hidden better on this show. His final monologue where he realizes that Connie felt the way he feels about Dewey abandoning the race feels like something from another show, a show that’s way more on-the-nose than Steven Universe is at its best. It was probably the right move, because as much as I can’t stand it when media is patronizing to young audiences, this lesson is complex enough that it’s worth a little clunkiness to ensure that the message gets through to smaller viewers. But compared to the elegance of our recent space adventure, Dewey Wins sacrifices polish for clarity when we usually get both.

But enough about what doesn’t work for me, because so much of this episode works for me. Even if his behavior feels forced, Steven provides seamless in-universe exposition recapping his space adventure. His follow-up conversation with Sadie has the same kind of douchey detachment that he shows Connie, but in a way that’s far more consistent with his character: dismissing Connie’s emotions is out of left field for him, but it makes plenty of sense that he’d see Lars as “okay” despite being trapped in space, considering the alternative was a very real death. And, of course, there’s the matter of the episode’s actual hero.

Nanefua Pizza has been my everything since Beach Party, and it’s thrilling to see her gain more prominence in the tail end of the series. Her beef with Mayor Dewey has been running since Political Power, the Dewey episode that established all the flaws that drive him out of office in Dewey Wins. Then, she responded by rallying rioters to tip over his truck, but now she takes a more civic-minded approach to effect real change. Still, she’s driven by the same anger at Dewey, and can only become a true force for good when she gains a new appreciation for his struggles.

While the correlation between Dewey and Steven is obvious well before Steven straight-up says there’s a correlation (a moment that’s made easier to swallow when Dewey points out he has no context for Steven’s friend troubles), the general conflict between Nanefua and Bill(iam) is a more fascinating study on blame. At first, both candidates believe in the power of blame, with Nanefua laying all the city’s troubles on Dewey’s inaction and Dewey arguing that taking the heat is his greatest strength: in his mind, there’s not much he can actually do about the cosmic misfortunes that befall Beach City, but giving its citizens somebody to blame gives them a sense of control that’s necessary in a chaotic world. And both of these viewpoints can be found in Steven’s self-image.

Steven, like Nanefua, is quick to lay blame when anything goes wrong. But Steven, like Dewey, sees the absorption of blame as a virtue. So he loops between those two positions, looking for someone to blame at the drop of a hat and only finding himself. The ensuing guilt make him want to fix the problems of others to atone, rather than focus on the underlying cause of his own issues, and if that sounds familiar it’s because Steven Universe Future is entirely about how important it is to break this loop.

But obsessing over fixing things is also how Pearl tries to solve her argument with Garnet in the Week of Sardonyx: she focuses on finding Peridot instead of doing anything about her own actions until she has no choice but to talk things out. And, as I said back in my Friend Ship post, it evokes something Pearl once said about humans (which it turns out applies to Gems):

“They want to blame all the world's problems on some single enemy they can fight, instead of a complex network of interrelated forces beyond anyone's control.”

When was this said? In Keep Beach City Weird, in regards to Ronaldo. The same Ronaldo who poured gas on the fire in Full Disclosure by presenting the idea that heroes are aloof and keep their friends at a distance. So in a way, the Breakup Arc can be chalked up to ignoring the good Ronaldo lesson but taking the bad Ronaldo lesson to heart. But more on him in Gemcation.

Steven’s turmoil lends a somber edge to Nanefua’s powerful change of heart, where she rejects her past choice to blame Dewey. She apologizes for her own part in pointing fingers, because blame is a lousy substitute for getting things done, and forgives him for not being perfect. She pitches the act of helping as a community effort, rather than something that any one person must do alone; she remembers that the lyrics are “we can be strong in the real way.” She’s giving Steven all of the answers well before Steven Universe Future shows how much his guilt loop will continue to plague him, but he isn’t ready to listen yet, and leaves the debate dejected instead of empowered. (Considering Jenny’s appeal to taking breaks during trying times in Joy Ride, and an adventure with Kiki about not spreading yourself too thin on behalf of others in Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service, this is the third time a Pizza woman’s fantastic advice has gone ignored by our hero.)

Even Dewey seems better off than Steven, accepting defeat by acknowledging that Nanefua would make a better mayor. And he’s right! She sets up actual services to account for alien threats, services that end up changing the universe in a way Dewey’s brand of keeping the peace never could. He may need a new job (Sadie foreshadows both his fate and her own imminent career change in one fell swoop), but there’s a sense of calm as he passes the torch after a full episode of Joel Hodgson’s hammy anxiety.

I appreciate that Dewey is allowed some points in his favor even as he flubs his way out of office. Yes, he should be more thoughtful and attentive: his vow to find a new donut shop kid when presented with news that Lars is trapped in space is even broader than Steven’s reaction to Connie’s pain, but the mayor has always ridiculous so I don’t mind at all. Yes, he should try and do something to address the concerns of his citizens beyond saying everything will be fine. But it’s not lost on the show that it isn’t easy running a town that’s a lightning rod for alien encounters, so Dewey remains sympathetic even if his ineptitude must be addressed. After all, if he’s gonna stand in for Steven in a metaphor that’s clear enough to be monologued about, it’s important to point out that it’s okay when you fail against impossible odds. Neither Dewey nor Steven can do everything on their own, no matter how much power they wield.

Steven might skip a few crucial lessons of Dewey Wins, but he at least learns one. Perhaps in an earlier season, that would be enough to mend fences with Connie. But time makes you bolder, children get older, and she’s getting older too. She’s been more than patient with being treated like an afterthought, so the moment she’s had enough is bound to be a big one. Thus, we end with a cliffhanger, one that pulls Steven into the same landslide that’s surely consuming the rest of the town after his kidnapping. The Barrigas are missing a son, and Sadie’s missing a romantic friend. Bill Dewey is no longer Mayor Dewey, and Nanefua has a whole new set of obstacles to face. Greg and the Gems have their son back, but his kidnapping was traumatic for them as well, and Connie gets that trauma on top of her stated complaints. And Steven had learned two lessons instead of one: it’s important to take your friends seriously, and timing is everything.

It’s gonna be a rough week.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

I do like it, really. But Steven’s behavior takes it down a few notches, regardless of my ability to find ways to explain it. Great episodes don’t require the audience to seek ways to justify a character’s weird behavior. There’s more good than bad here, but I’d be lying if I said I loved Dewey Wins.

Top Twenty-Five

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

When It Rains

The Good Lars

Lars’s Head

Catch and Release

Chille Tid

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Doug Out

Are You My Dad?

I Am My Mom

Stuck Together

The Trial

Off Colors

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Dewey Wins

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

6. Horror Club 5. Fusion Cuisine 4. House Guest 3. Onion Gang 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

(No official promo art for most of the Breakup Arc, given the way they were released, but I can’t be too mad when we get brilliance like this from ajora.)

#dewey wins #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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carolhnd2bphoto · 4 years

Text

Personal Project Workbook

over the next coming weeks i will be posting a workbook for my personal project. this will include further research and contact sheets of daily shoots. my ten final shots will also be in my workbook. reflections on each shoot will be included; what i liked/disliked and what i have learned. as a result of current circumstances some work may be limited but this is something i will have to work around and improvise with.

Action Plan

I plan to take my images in the style of abstract photography but through the use of incorporating various perspectives. More so that of symmetry. The reason being is that they stand out and are pleasing to the eye. Humans are drawn to perfection which brings about a sense of comfort. The beauty of this is that I am not tied to one particular object/subject. There is so much choice whether that be a building, a row of trees or even a pattern of flowers. The options are vast, however, this could be seen as a problem too, when do you stop?. I enjoy taking shots with leading lines, the images are satisfying to take and are comforting to look at. There is a sense of order and stability. There is so much to choose from in Glasgow, whether it be contemporary buildings, waterfronts.

There are several types of symmetry in photography,

Vertical Symmetry – this is the most common and is used in architectural photography as it brings out the shape and design of the building.

Horizontal Symmetry – this is most often used in landscape photography, this is similar to that of Reflective Symmetry however, a reflection isn’t always required.

Radial Symmetry – this involves circular shapes, notably wheels or domes.

Reflective Symmetry – glass, water and buildings can be used to produce a symmetrical image.

(www.expertphotography.com)

Market

As I have a keen interest in this type of photography and gives me a great deal of pleasure the first market or target audience would be me. As I have many followers on my Instagram and Facebook page that would be another suitable market. However the purpose of putting images on social media sites is for the attention. If enough attention is there it would provide confidence to approach galleries within the Glasgow area. I would even approach libraries as there are many of them in Glasgow most of which a heavy footfall and as such another audience. In the past when I have uploaded my abstract images to social media sites I have been given good feedback which is obviously very encouraging. Which is why I feel confident in doing this style of photography.

Timetable

If it were under normal circumstances, I would be using my self-study days to go out and shoot, these are Thursdays and Fridays. Other possible days to consider (if I am not working) would be weekends. Unfortunately as all my photoshoots will be on location and Britain is currently on lock down for the foreseeable future, exact details are difficult to provide. If push comes to shove my project could be done at home, but I do not wish to do that, natural light through the window could be used but I would rather be outside.

Equipment and Resources

Fortunately, all/most of my shots will be taken outside. There are many fine buildings/or points of interest in Glasgow even further afield such as Edinburgh, Paisley. As a result of there being no restrictions, buildings are not my only subject. There are many subjects to take shots of using symmetrical style. In the stores at college there are various types of equipment but as a result of current circumstances, college equipment will not be accessible. Personal equipment that I have and that I will use will be both a tripod and a monopod to help with focus and create good composition and obviously to prevent camera shake. I will use my Nikon D7100 with 18mm – 105mm lens. I will also use my Cannon EOS 700d (this has kit lens, 18mm – 55mm and 55mm – 250mm). For this camera I also a prime 50mm lens and a Sigma 70mm – 300mm. Also to avoid carrying bulky cameras with heavy lenses, I can also use my Mirrorless Canon EOS M100 (kit lens, 15mm – 45mm and 45mm – 200mm). Again with this project I do not have to use specific lenses, for instance if I was shooting small objects, I would have to use only Marco lenses. As I will be shooting outdours I will be relying on natural light which is a good thing. With natural light I have several options at my disposal, I feel that I can shoot on sunny and cloudy days. Shoot early in the morning and in the evening. Even shooting in the rain, I feel can add to the symmetrical form.

Research

The four creatives/photographers I have looked at and that I will be writing about are those who specialize in Abstract Photography. Two historical and two contemporary. Before writing about their work, a definition of Abstract Photography will be given and in my research is not one that is easy to define as there are so many areas of Abstract Photography to choose from. For me it is taking an image of part of a subject but you can still tell what the image is meant to be. Or taking an image of a subject from a completely different viewpoint. Abstract Photography can also be known as conceptual or non – objective photography (https://en.wikipedia.org). ‘Abstraction takes place when a photographer focuses in on a fragment of a natural scene, isolating it from its context’ (https://mymodernnet.com).

First creative/photographer to be explored is Alfred Stieglitz. He was responsible for photography being thought of as a fine art form (www.artsy.net). Stieglitz was responsible for having photographs and paintings shown side by side in the same gallery. In 1905, he opened his own gallery, 291 Gallery in New York, this helped to promote up and coming photographers (www.artsy.net). His series of clouds, known as Music – A Sequence of Ten Cloud Photographs is seen to have paved the way for abstract photography and are seen to be the first ever abstract work to be produced (www.invaluable.com).

(https://www.metmuseum.org)

I am drawn to this image by Stieglitz because there is an atmospheric feel coming from it. There is a dark force hovering over this small white innocent house surrounded and protected by other forms of nature; hills, trees. The eyes are drawn to the clouds because of their heavy presence and I suppose that is what Stieglitz is aiming for. It is the clouds that the viewer focuses on, there very fact that there is a small white house only makes the clouds a prominent part of the image.

(www.vam.ac.uk)

These two images are different than the above image in that they have more of an abstract/fine art look about them. I am drawn to these images for the pattern effect and how they have been shot in that they have been shot with a upwards perspective. These images also are less foreboding in comparison to the image above. There is an air of optimism about them, the clouds are lighter with the sun/moon breaking through. The aim for Stieglitz in taking images of clouds in an abstract form was a way for expressing his feelings (www.vam.ac.uk).

The next abstract photographer to be explored is Aaron Sisland. He initially was a documentary photographer then focused more on abstraction/abstract photography (www.artsy.net). His style of abstract photography was different from Stieglitz in that he focused on texture, patterns and lines. This then added another dimension to the image rather than the image having a flat look. Siskind was known for his innovations in abstract photography (www.britannica.com). What both Siskind and Stieglitz do have in common is that they both played a big part in the development of abstract photography, their work were the building blocks of todays abstract photography.

(www.widewalls.ch)

This is a good example of lines and perspective photography, there is also a pattern that works well with the texture of the brickwork. This is similar to that of Stieglitz’s clouds image due to the fact that the photography was taken looking up giving it a new perspective. I am drawn to this image because there is order to it and the linear approach it has. You automatically look up the way which takes away the flatness of it if it had been taken straight on. This image is clever in that from an abstract view, it covers texture, lines patterns and the fact that you look up middle that naturally focus on either side at the stairs. It could be argued that this particular image come under architectural photography in that it is of a building but for me it is the way that it has been shot that makes it abstract; perspective photography. This image really appeals to me and is the type of photography I enjoy.

(www.icp.org)

This image works for me as a result of the texture, there is a roughness to along with a smoothness where the lines are on the surface. What is good about this image is that you are having to look closely too, its not obvious what the image is meant to be. That is the whole point of abstract photography it keeps you second guessing. In this image you immediately see the nuts and bolts then you begin to pick on the roughness of the metal, the shadows emerging from the nuts and bolts and then the grain on what could actually be wood. So there are a variety of textures, the clever use of the shadows enables the bolts to stand out from the image giving it depth.

The next two abstract photographers to be research will be contemporary. The first abstract photographer is Ola Kolehmainen from Finland. He is known for his large colour prints and how light effects architecture (www.artnet.com). Kolehmainens’ work is a mix of both abstract and minimalism, he has a way of showing up the detail in the building bringing various colours to the fore.

(www.artnet.com)

This is a very striking image, the contrast between white and blue is very bold. Again this is another perspective style of photography in that this has been taken from ground level. The lines in this image are very apparent, very symmetrical. For me what makes this image standout is not just the colours but the fact that is minimalist. On looking at the image more closely there are a line of reflected lights running up the middle of the stairs which adds more symmetry. For me this image is very pleasing to the eyes in that the eyes are directed effortlessly from the floor up towards the stairs.

(www.artnet.com)

The style of this image is similar to that of the one above in that use of the colour red adds to the perspective of the image. The way that both ceiling and floor come into play makes the area longer than it is. This is what allows for the depth. Unlike the image above, this shot was not taken from ground level but from what looks like eye level. While it is a good image to look at, it doesn’t have the same comforting appeal as the image above.

My final abstract photographer is Angie McMonical who is both a fine art and commercial photographer. Her work is focused on architecture and the lines and texture of the buildings.

(www.angiemcmonigal.com)

This image is very pleasing to the eye as a result of the sleekness of it, like Kolehmainen’s images this is very bold, lines are obviously evident. What also makes it abstract is the distorted looked of the buildings reflected on the main building. This image ticks many boxes, good composition, leading lines, patterns and texture. This image is quite similar to photographs I have shot in the past and as such can easily relate to this style of photography.

(www.angiemcmonigal.com)

As mentioned above McMonical is also a commercial photographer. Her style of photography whether it be fine art or commercial is constant in that lines and light are paramount. This image, for me is both fine art and commercial in that in the background there is the building with the reflection of another building, again with the light, lines and patterns emerge. The actual commercial image cleverly uses light to bring out reflection and the colour of the staircase. It has a minimalist feel to it with only 3 people randomly placed on the staircase. This is another image where it was shot with the camera facing upwards giving it a style of perspective photography.

Technique/Approach

My aim, as much as possible is to get my shots right in camera at all times by using the technique of Exposure Triangle. I will use such software as Lightroom/Adobe Bridge to enhance colour, enhance/decrease shadows or highlights. I don’t like the idea of using the software to an extent the original image becomes false and lost which is why I am not a big fan of Photoshop. I still wish my images to keep to there original rawness. As much of my project will be on location, camera settings will be,

· ISO – 100 – 400, this will cover if it will be a sunny or cloudy day. Even if it is raining, I still feel that I can achieve good shots as the symmetry of the image is where the depth will come from.

· Shutter Speed – again many of my shots will be outside, therefore shutter speed will be 1/125th of a second and faster.

· Aperture – this really depends of the lens I will be using, for instance to gain good depth of field I will be using my prime lens, with an aperture setting of f/1.8, but if I were after more clarity and focus I would use a telephoto lens at f/8.

As far as technique is concerned, I will try several methods, such as shooting straight up, this will give a different perspective and a unique symmetrical pattern. I also like the idea of zoom, this is a favorite method of mine and gives the feeling that the image is coming out from the print. This technique may look quite interesting and will give another dimension. Shooting from a distance or long shot creates good depth and perspective.

Risk Assessment

RISK ASSESSMENT

Project:

Graded Unit

Location Name:

Glasgow, Paisley, Edinburgh

Tel:

Address:

Various locations

Tick any identified hazard.

o Access (blocked or restricted) o Dangerous surfaces (slippery, wet)

* Vehicle parking at location o Trip Hazards Found

o Dangerous Services (electricity, water)

o Derelict Buildings (unsafe floors, ceilings)

o Working in confined spaces oHazardous Substances (chemicals)

o Flammable Materials o Water (proximity to water)

o Rubbish/Vermin o Machinery (working, turning parts)

* Working at Height * Working on/near roads

* Driving in traffic o Noise (high sound levels)

o Weapons o Stunts

o Extreme Heat/Cold o Physical Exertion

o Using animals o Public/ Crowds

o Hostile Environment (violence)

o Special Needs (inexperienced, child, elderly)

o Other Hazards.

Please specify

HAZARD

SEVERITY

H / M / L

People at Risk

Who, how many?

Likelihood

H / M / L

Risk Control Adequate

Yes / No

Unable to park at location

low

none

low

yes

Falling from high height

low

yes

Driving in traffic

low

yes

Working near roads

low

yes

When completing the form:

· Consider the nature of the hazard

· The possible severity of the outcome.

· High = severe injuries. Medium = time off work. Low = minor, first aid.

· Who could be at risk, and how many?

· How likely is it that the incident will occur?

· Are the precautions proportionate to the overall risk?

Details of Activity

Will be on location, city centre, parks photographing objects with a symmetrical component. If shooting near a main road I will be aware of busy traffic. Will use common sense when near busy roads. When photography from a height be aware of dangers such as slipping.

Hazard / Risk

Precautions Required

Busy traffic

Risk of falling from a height

I will go to various locations at quieter times of day and only to places I know I will be safe.

I will not go to such a height where there are no safety railings

Source of safety advice at location

Name:

Tel:

Person in charge of safety at location

Name:

Carol Mckinlay

Tel:

07583358172

Signed:

C.Mckinlay

Date:

25.03.2020

College Contact

Name:

Faculty of Creative Industries Admin (Alan Carlin)

Tel:

0141 375 5555

Signed:

Date:

Session 18-19

Risk Assessment undertaken by:

This must be signed before the Shoot can go ahead.

I have read the above risk assessment and am satisfied that:

· Constitutes a proper and adequate risk assessment in respect of the programme activity.

· The precautions identified above are sufficient to control the risks.

· Adequate arrangements are in place to communicate risk assessment findings and to co-ordinate the safety arrangements of all those affected.

Name:

Tel:

Signed:

Date:

Presentation

As the class have been asked to produce 10 prints, my idea is to have 2 prints per A3 canvass. Depending on the orientation; landscape or portrait, depends how they will be placed on the canvass. I wish to have 2 per canvass in order for detail to be seen. I want the viewer to get the maximum affect from the print and be drawn into the image.

Now that I have a fair idea of how my images will be laid out on canvass, place of print is the next part. For me the obvious place is Deadly Digital where i go for all my printing needs. The prints are of good quality and the turn around is very quick. As with all my prints, the finish will be Oyster. This finish works well with portrait, landscape and architecture and I feel confident that this finish will bring out the best in my chosen images. As there will be two images per A3 canvass, the cost of these 5 prints will be (including student discount) £37.50p.

Bibliography

Abstract Photography, retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abstract_photography accessed on 20th March 2020.

Stewart S (July 7th 2017) How Abstract Photography Has Evolved and Still Continues to Inspire Art, retrieved from https://mymodernmet.com/what-is-abstract-photography-definition/ accessed on 20th March 2020.

Alfred Stieglitz, retrieved from https://www.artsy.net/artist/alfred-stieglitz accessed on 20th March 2020.

Abstract Photography: Famous Artists, Examples and Techniques (9th May 2018), retrieved from https://www.invaluable.com/blog/abstract-photography/ accessed on 20th March 2020.

Music – A Sequence of Ten Cloud Photographs, No.1, retrieved from https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/267447 accessed on 20th March 2020.

Alfred Stieglitz- pioneer of modern photography, retrieved from https://www.vam.ac.uk/articles/alfred-stieglitz-pioneer-of-modern-photography accessed on 20th March 2020.

Aaron Siskind, retrieved from https://www.artsy.net/artist/aaron-siskind accessed on 20th March 2020.

The Editors of Encyclopedia Britannica (4th February 2020), Aaron Siskind American Photographer, retrieved from https://www.britannica.com/art/abstract-art accessed on 20th March 2020.

Aaron Siskind, retrieved from https://www.widewalls.ch/artist/aaron-siskind/ accessed on 20th March 2020.

Aaron Siskind retrieved from https://www.icp.org/browse/archive/constituents/aaron-siskind?all/all/all/all/0 accessed on 20th March 2020.

Ola Kolehmainen, retrieved from http://www.artnet.com/artists/ola-kolehmainen/ accessed on 21st March 2020.

Angie McMonigal retrieved from https://www.angiemcmonigal.com/site_v2/ accessed on 21st March 2020.

Ivanova T, How to Use Symmetry in Photography Composition, retrieved from https://expertphotography.com/symmetry-in-photography/ accessed on 24th March 2020.

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 4 years

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/karmic-tools-weekly-forecast-january-12-18-2020/

Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast: January 12 – 18, 2020

ByKelly M. Beard

The video version of this forecast, as read by Kelly, is available here.

The Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast covers the current planetary transits which affect people in different ways and to various degrees of intensity. Take notice when it is a Personal planet (Sun / Moon / Mercury / Venus / Mars) interacting with a Social (Jupiter/Saturn) or Collective planet (Uranus / Neptune/Pluto). And pay extremely close attention when it is a Social planet interacting with a Collective planet because that means something *big* is brewing that will move large groups of people along their evolutionary paths. Tuning in to the energy and rhythm of the planets can serve as a useful *guide* as you move along your Individual Path. It also helps to understand your place within the context of the larger Social & Collective Story. Below, you will find out how these energies tend to manifest, as well as guidance and direction.

*NOTE* There are some days when there are NO CONTACTS (besides the Moon), please note that there are no missing entries, we just list the actual Activations of each week + the day they happen.

Weekly Forecast: January 12 – 18, 2020

1/12 ~ Mercury (thought process) ~conjunct~ Saturn (definition of reality):

This energy is excellent for any important project that requires your undivided attention. If you’ve got a vision and have already outlined how to manifest it, now is the time to really fill in the blanks – flesh it out – bring it to life! Do the work! If you do not channel this energy toward patiently and methodically taking the steps (in order, with no shortcuts) so you can get to the next level, then it can manifest in frustration that you are not doing what you know in your heart you’re supposed to be doing at this time. That often leads to negative thinking and self-sabotage. A better expression would be to not think of the things that can go wrong, but entertain the possibility that every door opens and all paths lead to your goal, no matter how they appear in the moment.

1/12 ~ Mercury (mind, thoughts & ideas) ~conjunct~ Pluto (purification & transformation):

This activation takes you into the depths of your own mind & consciousness, deepening all communications. You may find yourself obsessing over something, either by yourself or in an attempt to convey something to another. Superficial, quick once-overs, trying to keep things ‘light’ will not likely be possible with this energy. You may feel determined to dig deeper until you get to the core or base issue. It’s good for soul-searching when it’s a genuine desire to know the truth, rather than to evade it. It’s not-so-good when you’re obsessing over someone or something which no longer serves you (or your Highest good). The challenge with this energy is the tendency to be really intense and locked-in on your own point of view, which is no less valid, but often this type of mental intensity blinds you to something obvious that you overlooked because you were not being objective, but being driven by much deeper (possibly unconscious) emotions. Your intensity is capable of influencing others but be aware of the difference between sharing information and trying to “convince, convert or cajole” others, as that can naturally attract challenges & opposition. Remember, the opposite can also be true, where you’re on the receiving end of this intense energy from someone else (trying to convince you of something). The best way to use this energy, as it doesn’t really last that long, is to turn that intensity toward Self, peel the layers to your own Truth & Purpose. The channels are open for a time and you can communicate and receive information from the deepest part of your SoulSelf. This is an Initiation.

1/12 ~ Saturn (structures, definitions & reality) ~conjunct~ Pluto (death, rebirth & transformation):

Here we have a Social (Saturn) and Collective (Pluto) planet creating a potent initiation that will likely have long-term influence on your personal life in many ways that only become clear a few years from now. This is an evolutionary process and those with Cancer/Capricorn & Aries/Libra are the ones with karmic ties to this combo. This is not a good versus bad thing, this is just a major Reality Check. I did a little digging and the last time Saturn conjuncted Pluto in Capricorn was 1518 and the last time they Initiated a new cycle was in 1982 in Libra. So they connect every 30-years or so thanks to Saturn’s pattern but Pluto makes it hard to connect in the same sign, so when they do, it symbolizes much more global effects. One thing that jumped out to me was that in the 1400’s it looks like lots of countries around the world wanted to be sovereign and be their own individual country and now we are living in a time when we realize how unrealistic or impractical human created borders can be. This is a time when we know we are all connected and we know that Earth’s resources have to sustain us all.

Saturn is here, in Capricorn, to ensure that this initiation is guided by the Council of Grandmothers who help us feminize the individual evolutionary process and collective revolutionary process. What does that mean? It means it is time to lead with honoring Nature, dealing with what is (not our illusions or delusions) and living in harmony with the Life/Death/Life Cycle. Both Saturn & Pluto do not allow things to live beyond their true usefulness. If all is energy, and certain energy is locked up or blocked so it cannot flow, that creates an unnatural death. If we simply honor that something is dead or done and clear it to bring in the new consciously, then we save ourselves a lot of heartache & trouble. We know that humans have lived in harmony with the Earth for millennia (I didn’t say with each other but they respected Nature) and in a few generations, our industrialization & colonization has created a crisis that we ALL have to address on some level if we are to survive. These two bring up these very real, very heavy-duty subjects and asks us all to face that which we’ve ignored overlong and finally clean it up and free up that energy to move.

An initiation catalyzes the NEW and you will know where your individual focus needs to be by the breakdowns going on in your life at this time. What no longer works for you? What is no longer real for you? And what has gotten so real that you have to rearrange your life to accommodate it? How are your containers supporting & protecting you? Where are the energy leaks? What shortcuts have you taken that will not work this time?

Ultimately, we are living through the ultimate transformation of our reality here on Earth. This is a chance to claim your vision of balance & harmony for Mother Earth, the waters and the soil that we cannot survive without. This year, you can co-create with this activation by simplifying your life, redefining your terms and renegotiating your contracts across the board. What have you agreed to in your heart and on paper that may have run its course by now and requires an upgrade or a new agreement altogether?

Note: This activation is joined by Ceres/The Mother – yet another indication of initiating new ways of nourishing ourselves and nurturing others that is up for renewal. In Capricorn, Ceres says it is time to be completely responsible for your footprint on this planet and it is time to look beyond your Self to see what you are actually contributing to the planet at this time. It really is a delicious opportunity for us ALL to start fresh, with new structures in place that honor everyone’s true purpose on Earth.

1/13 ~ Sun (source & essential Self) ~conjunct~ Pluto (purification & transformation):

This energy brings to mind a quote, “circumstances don’t make a man, they reveal him”. The Sun (ego) and Pluto (transformation) are connecting and you are often a different Being once this energy passes and the two planets separate again (they meet once a year). Pluto brings into the Light, aspects of our Selves which have been buried, neglected or ignored lately (or for some, a very long time). Sometimes that is miraculous & life-saving, and other times this can be arduous & exhausting, but it is completely natural. With this energy, you can now more fully access your Source (Sun) and transcend (Pluto) who you “used to be” and begin to truly embody who you are becoming. Bringing things into the Light comes in many forms, as you question all you thought you were or thought you knew about what you really want to express in this lifetime. You can use this as a Rebirth of Light within you or you can look at it as Light being brought to your deepest, darkest places within to heal them with pure Light. It is an initiation that often requires a release of some kind that, ultimately, allows you to grow & blossom in new, more authentic ways. As always, concentrated power (Pluto) must be responsibly directed, so watch any projections or provoked power struggles and pick your battles (everybody doesn’t like Light in their dark places). It’s time to question if the sacrifice you’re making is truly worth it? Relationships often strain under this influence because it is such *raw truth* rising from the Soul but it also brings things to the surface that are better addressed sooner than later. (Think The Tower card in Tarot.) It doesn’t have to be destroyed (or maybe it does) as much as it needs to be transformed (new form). Remember, breakdowns always precede the breakthroughs!!

1/13 ~ Sun (core-identity) ~conjunct~ Saturn (responsibility):

This energy gives you a strong dose of purpose & direction, but also reminds you that those big dreams require a solid foundation in order to flourish. The wheels that get set in motion this week are creating your future, for better or worse – so pay attention! While this is often about career matters, it is also about your responsibilities in general, the things you have to do that cannot be delegated to others. This is great energy for organizing and planning, creating order, and organizing your Self or your life in some way that fortifies your position. If you don’t “do the work” that you know you are supposed to be doing at the moment, you will only feel worse. So don’t delay anything that can, and probably should, be done sooner versus later. This energy can also make you feel a little lonely or depressed, don’t give in to that. There is a time to be out and about and time to get down to business. And right now, you have probably already put some things off and that is only going to contribute further to your stress levels. Make a list of things to do, prioritize them and start checking them off.

1/15 ~ Venus (relationships, love & money) ~sextile~ Uranus (clarity & inspiration):

This energy, thanks to Uranus, activates a certain spark of electricity in the air. New relationships will have an unusual aspect to them and old ones can break-to-realign in a positive, even fun way with this energy. No monotonous routine, humdrum people or boring collaborations with this one. Use it to access your unique genius and deep well of creativity and then share if you can, with other like-hearted Souls. Take advantage of this energy to tap into areas you may not have realized were available to you before now. Keep it light and upbeat; socialize and enjoy the experience of different people or new activities. Keep in mind, however, any relationships begun this week may not be based on qualities needed for long term survival. It is more a time to enjoy the people and experiences that pass through at this time and accept it as a gift!

1/18 ~ Mercury (lower mind & ideas) ~square~ Uranus (Higher Mind & awakening):

This energy challenges you to expand your mind or consciousness in a way, pushing you to think differently and respond to information in new ways. Uranus brings sudden ah-ha moments, personal awareness and radical new ideas, which is great for you adventurous souls who thrive on change and new ideas. However, if you are personally attached to your routine and things ‘going as planned’, then this energy can cause aggravation and tax your nervous system because things will seem sudden (even though it is more likely that they have already been brewing under the surface for some time now). You will have to adjust and be more open & mentally flexible than usual. You may not be able to control the excessive mental activity or information-overload coming in, but hopefully you can direct it a bit. It’s good to activate or clean your personal filters by taking some time in nature to process things at your own pace and generally clear your head. This can be a very inspiring & creative time, so try to tune into that, while keeping in mind that anything you begin or get into, may require a review later so you can check over the details of your revelations (or creations). You’re just cracking the surface, this is all about the revelation or awakening, you will eventually have to figure out the logistics or effective actions necessary to bring your ideas into form.

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scripttorture · 3 years

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I have a few questions. First, What longterm effects would having ones shoulders dislocated for an extended time (hours, days, etc) have? Second, my MC has really vague, choppy memory of their time in captivity. Blurry, foggy images with little context flash in their mind, usually in dreams or when exposed to certain stimuli, ie, they get vague recollections of metal bars when it's too hot or feel claustrophobic if water is in their face. Is this type of sporadic memory realistic?

I’m not 100% sure what you mean, so I’m going to start by describing how I’m interpreting the memory problems you’re describing.

What I’m getting is an idea that this character doesn’t actually have any real, conscious memories of captivity. Instead they have little fever-dream type snatches of images, feelings or possible sensations that might be related to their captivity but they can’t even be sure of that.

It’s a pattern that I’ve seen a few times in fiction and generally it doesn’t line up with how memory problems in survivors work. Typical memory problems are less obvious and more insidious. They also tend to have greater lasting effects on the survivor’s life.

That said, I think it might be possible in very particular circumstances. Something else would need to be going on that effected the survivor’s mental state at the time.

Sleep deprivation can result in a lot of memory problems. But it’s more common for survivors to have gaps in their memories or small inaccuracies unless they’re sleep deprived to the point where they’re basically psychotic.

I mean that in the sense of hallucinating, paranoid and disconnected from reality, not the colloquial sense.

Even then sleep deprivation doesn’t usually mean no memory without stimulation. It means things like… ‘Oh yeah I remember I was held in this cell with metal bars and then the bars started bending and bugs stepped out of the shadows.’ Memories that are wrapped up in paranoid hallucinations that the survivor knows aren’t real.

Fever can result in the sort of choppy memories I think you’re describing.

Some drugs can also produce this sort of effect. I can’t really tell you much about that though because in the industry we see it as an unwanted side effect to eliminate rather then something to wilfully induce. Which means that if someone starts getting those side effects they get put on a different drug quick.

Some of the so-called ‘truth drugs’ do have something close to this effect on memory, though they don’t make it more likely that people will tell the truth.

And more often what survivors (or patients) who’ve been given these drugs describe is straight up gaps in their memory for the period they were under the influence of the drug.

I won’t say that you ‘can’t’ or ‘shouldn’t’ use this sort of memory problem in your story. But if you’re dead set on it I’d strongly encourage you to come up with a reason why.

Stress, captivity and torture would not produce this sort of effect unless there’s something else going on. But if your character was drugged throughout, or unlucky enough to be kidnapped while coming down with a nasty fever, then it might be possible.

An unmedicated mental health problem could also produce this (ie character has a pre-existing disorder, is kidnapped and has no access to medication), but I’d suggest looking that up elsewhere because I’m not an expert on psychotic disorders. And as I understand it psychosis doesn’t produce memory problems; it distorts someone’s view of reality not their ability to remember those distortions.

I will say that I think it’s usually better to stick with more typical memory problems. It’s more representative of the typical survivor experience and frankly there are a lot of poorly done amnesia/memory loss stories in the world already.

You can read more about what the typical memory problems look like over here.

Unless there’s something else going on survivors don’t commonly forget that they were abused or the broad strokes of what happened. It’s much more common for survivors to experience intense intrusive memories of a traumatic event then it is for them to forget a traumatic event*.

Traumatic memories can be inaccurate but these inaccuracies don’t tend to be things like whether the abuse happened or not and survivors do tend to get broad details correct. It can interfere with a survivor’s ability to identify an attacker they didn’t know previously. It can also effect things like their perception of timing, details of where the attack took place and the events leading up to and after the attack.

Survivors can also forget a lot of things that happened shortly before and shortly after an attack. They might lose memories of what they did the day before instance, or only have a blurry recollection of the week after.

They can also have general problems forming new memories that persist at a constant level for life. This can make it difficult to keep appointments, study for an exam and continue with household chores.

If you want to switch to more… Usually I say ‘realistic’ but in this case I think it’s ‘more common’, memory problems then here’s what I’d suggest to get something close to the disorientation you’ve got in the original idea.

I’d use memory loss to an extent where the character has only very vague recollections of what happened the week before and after they were snatched. I’d then combine that with intrusive memories and inaccurate memories.

I would set up the scenario in such a way that the character is aware some of their memories are inaccurate. For instance I might have them write down some thoughts and memories soon after they were rescued/escaped. Then go back to that in two weeks and find that it is really different to what they now remember.

I’ve also established inaccurate memories by using multiple points of view or having multiple character present at particular points. Having contrasting points of view can show that the memories are inaccurate.

You can also straight up describe what happens in the story, from the point of view of the character it happens to. Then later have them think or talk about it and show something different. Hell you can show the memory changing every time they think about it, without the character necessarily being aware it’s changing. That does happen.

Intrusive memories are not necessarily accurate either. And they can be triggered in ways that are hard to interpret or understand.

That mix of memory problems; loss of memories, inaccurate memories (both that the character is aware of and ones they’re not) with intrusive memories that seem to be set off by disconnected things- it can really make someone doubt themselves and doubt what’s real.

Which isn’t quite the same as giving them these blurry, fever-dream memories but it can have the same narrative effect. They’re not sure what really happened. They doubt themselves.

And there can be real fear and anger bound up in those things. Fear because not knowing and sitting with those doubts is scary. Anger because knowing you’re an unreliable witness makes any kind of justice or change next to impossible is… a lot to deal with.

Those are the best things I can think of to get close to what you want from the story.

I’d also encourage you to think about what this kind of ‘sporadic’ memory is adding to the story. I’ve written enough that I have no doubts it’s adding a lot, it’s an interesting idea to be working with. But it might help you to break it down and define exactly what it’s bringing to the plot and characters before you decide what to do. Having that list in front of you can make it easier to see other options and ways to include all the elements you want.

As for dislocated shoulders- I’m no medic.

Scriptmedic, the original Script blog, has a post on dislocations here. There’s also a handy NHS guide to dislocated shoulders over here.

Most modern torture doesn’t involve deliberately dislocating the shoulders. Because that’s an obvious injury and obvious injuries are evidence of a crime.

A lot of historical torture did involve deliberately dislocating the shoulders. But historical medical practice was not… shall we say ‘good’. The record keeping historically was also less then stellar and the result is that I don’t necessarily have access to the best sources here.

My instinct is the effects would be pain and increased damage to the soft tissue around the shoulder joint. This can cause long term mobility issues, though generally not to an extent where people can’t get through their day to day life (they might adjust to do things differently putting less stress on the shoulders).

I am pretty sure there’d be a higher chance of chronic pain afterwards.

And that’s really the extent of my medical knowledge there but I hope you can find useful info on the NHS website and Aunty Scripty’s archives.

I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*Once again I don’t know much about childhood development and I don’t read much about child abuse. Anecdotally I have noticed a pattern where more survivors of abuse in early childhood report that they forgot about it. This may be because there’s extensive restructuring of the brain and neural ‘pruning’ that happens naturally as children grow. They still experienced lasting trauma symptoms.

#writing advice #tw torture #tw child abuse #memory problems #memory loss and torture #memory problems related to torture #mental health #sleep deprivation #psychosis #truth serums #inaccurate memories #intrusive memories #writing survivors #writing symptoms #dislocated joints

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neonthewrite · 5 years

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Vanguard (Trust AU)

(So I guess it’s just a given that I’ll forget to crosspost stuff if I don’t post them at the same time. That’s okay, though. Here is another glimpse into the unlife of Colfax as a vampire.)

Colfax has lived a really long time. As one of the founding members of the Vanguard, he might seem like just another enforcer, but he's really .... not. At all. And the Vanguard doesn't like it when vampires make a spectacle of things, because secrecy.

Colfax happens to be really good at bringing the drama in these situations.

Reading time approx. 5-10 minutes; Some violence described

Vampire Trust AU co-created with @creatorofuniverses , with more stories available on @alittleblogoftrust

~~~

Year: 2008 Colfax adjusted the collar of his shirt, an attempt to make the tie more comfortable. As with most brand new clothes, that was a tough task. The whole suit was fresh from the tailor, ready for him to go and carry out a task he wasn’t fond of. He’d have loved to ignore the messages, but this was critical and he was the nearest Vanguard enforcer.

Someone was drawing attention. A spree killer, the media was saying. It was spreading information faster than the Vanguard could control what was getting out. That would not do.

After seeing some of the photos his sister had sent him, it was a marvel people weren’t already whispering about vampires. Disbelief had worked for so long, but now, it was harder than ever to keep people’s noses out of it. Photoshop was powerful, but so were conspiracy theories.

Colfax adjusted the cuffs of his jacket next, a frown fainter than starlight on his face. He’d tracked their quarry to the unassuming little neighborhood of quiet shops and a dive bar or two. The edge of downtown was only blocks away, but here, the hunting ground was near perfect.

He looked like he could be waiting for an event. Standing at a corner by a homey little coffee shop, Colfax wasn’t hiding. In fact, he was as obvious as he could be without making a scene. Haloed by a street lamp, passersby gave him a wide berth.

He was willing to wait there past the last call if he had to. The vampire making a name for themself in this city was in the pub across the street--an old business that held on while the shops around it changed faces every decade or so.

The place was on the police’s list of suspect places, and in fact most nights they’d had a man undercover to watch for any patterns. There had been three deaths within a mile, though not all victims could be placed there. If Colfax were to guess, the pub was the place to spot lone prey on the move without drawing too much attention. Even across the street, he’d already noted three people walking alone on the same block within easy view.

He wasn’t left watching people go by for as long as he expected. Before midnight even approached, Colfax spotted a young woman passing the pub with a pair of friends. When they continued down the block, she waved a goodbye to them. She’d parked nearby, so she said, and would see them tomorrow. Innocent, noisy, and brazen against the night. She may as well have worn a sign declaring her a free meal.

Any other time, it might be Colfax taking her up on that challenge. The most danger she’d face would be lightheadedness for a few days, perhaps a harsh dehydration headache.

If she fell victim to the other one, she would become famous, but not in a way most young people wanted.

By the time she was snatched into an alley mere steps from her car, Colfax wasn’t standing under the streetlight anymore. He arrived at the alley in time to see a flicker of motion as a door closed. Just across from the pub’s back door, an unoccupied building waited, locked up and perfect for waiting out prey like a trap door spider.

Ah. Clever.

A locked door didn’t mean all that much to Colfax. He followed into the abandoned building, a part of him awakening to relish the chase. His target might be another vampire, but a hunt is a hunt. Halls and offices stood in place of a jungle, and he followed unerringly after the faint sounds of movement.

The other vampire didn’t make things difficult for him. Doubtless they expected no one to have noticed the woman disappearing from the street. Doubtless, they had allowed themselves to become arrogant after weeks and weeks of the same without any retribution.

Hunting in the same place wasn’t a problem. In fact, it was still fairly common among the stubborn ones who didn’t want to move around too often. Vampires could claim their territory if they were willing to stand up for it, and the hunting in their radius was good enough.

Making a name for oneself? That was frowned upon.

Colfax stalked his quarry past several spacious office rooms filled with old cabinets and furniture that had been collecting dust for years. Chairs and trash bins stacked high in some areas, like misshapen pillars distracting the eye and hiding strange shadows.

Luckily, Colfax could see quite well in the dark.

He followed the sounds to what might once have been a conference room. His nose wrinkled slightly as he approached the door. A lot of blood had shed in that room, and so far none of it fresh. It was the vampire’s lair, without a doubt, and the young woman might be facing the end of her life soon.

Colfax rounded the threshold of the door without an attempt at further stealth. Once he found the other vampire, he didn’t need to hide. He wasn’t the one in trouble.

The lair was about what he’d have expected. A long table lay on its side, blocking off the view of the back third of the room. In front of it, the old carpet was stained over and over with the death blows of many people that had then been found all over the city. Dull blades piled in the corner, machetes and cleavers for what purpose Colfax wished he wasn’t privy to.

Really, it was just so over the top and needlessly flashy.

Colfax adjusted his lapel while the stunned vampire blinked at him. Already the troublemaker had the young woman entranced and staring helplessly up at him. His lips were parted and his fangs were showing, but he’d yet to break her skin. She only sported a bruise on her arm, shaped like the vice-like grip that dragged her away.

Credit to the upstart, he recognized what Colfax was and snarled. “Let me guess,” he hissed. “Vanguard?”

Colfax didn’t deign to give him a quick answer, and instead fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket again. Once he’d assured they were neat and even and his opponent was annoyed, his gaze flickered up again. “Vanguard,” he confirmed. “You’ve drawn notice.”

The vampire grinned, smugness and pride the only emotions he had room for. “Yeah? Here to give me a certificate? Maybe a trophy?”

“A warning,” Colfax answered. Already he was bored, and he had a feeling he knew exactly where this conversation would go. The vampire would resist him, and get arrogant, and he’d have to get dramatic. “The single warning you are allowed to cease your high-profile killings and allow the growing media interest to peter out before you quietly leave town and establish roots elsewhere.”

The vampire sneered. “The Vanguard hasn’t done much for the past three hundred or so years,” he pointed out. “I’ve been at this for nearly seven hundred, you poor brute. It isn’t what it once was, no matter what they might have told you when they signed you on as a new suit. I will do as I please.”

There it was. The exact sort of thing he could expect from a hotshot like this. Plenty of age behind him, a lot of experience, and the hubris to go with it.

Luckily, for his dramatics’ sake, precious few could surprise him with their age.

“Your warning has been given,” he declared. “Without promise of cooperation, I am at liberty to pass judgment. Should you request it, I can be swift.”

The other vampire actually let his claimed prize drop to the floor. She landed in a seated position, still staring up at him. Despite the harsh impact, she didn’t make a single sound of pain.

“Back off, enforcer,” the vampire warned. “I don’t care what you tell your masters about this, that you couldn’t find me, or you couldn’t keep up. If we have to fight, I won’t go easy. This is my town.”

Colfax side-eyed the woman on the floor. The poor girl was probably going to have some wild nightmares after all this, hypnosis or not. When he met the other vampire’s gaze again, he tugged on his hypnotic ability, just for a moment. “My masters,” he echoed, neutral in tone yet somehow as derisive as could be.

Vampire hypnotism wasn’t the easiest ability to master for most. Some could take centuries to effectively enthrall their victims, and decades of unlife were required at minimum for the ability to appear at all. It was a tricky defense, and took a lot of practice. Only the most practiced or the geniuses among their numbers could hope to turn it on one of their own kind.

Colfax happened to be both.

The other vampire’s eyes widened, and he lurched to the side with uncanny speed. He aimed to reach the door and find a better hiding place, perhaps, but Colfax could match his speed; he fed regularly, too.

His body slammed into the other’s with enough force to send them both flying against the door frame. The metal squealed and bowed in the middle, and Colfax latched a hand on the man’s shoulder just above the collarbone. Both of them had their fangs bared. Colfax’s eyes blazed with quiet anger, the other with loud rage.

“Seven hundred years,” Colfax said, as he leaned his free arm over the other vampire’s chest. “So Edward and Isabella had gotten married. Did you also attend the wedding? The coronation? What other fantastic things have you done in this long life?”

“Enough to last,” his opponent hissed. A kick with enough speed and power behind it to break cement came swift and unguarded at his ribs. Colfax’s bones didn’t yield, but he stumbled back anyway.

He followed the other vampire into the hall, leaving behind the hypnotized young woman. She was safe, and had been the moment Colfax stepped in. He let the other dart around a corner ahead, anticipating an ambush.

Indeed, as he came to the corner, a heavy shape dropped from above, barreling Colfax against the opposite wall. Drywall cracked as the man pinned him with a snarl, and Colfax opted not to fight back. Nonchalance would go a lot farther here than any defiance he could offer. The other’s snarl only became more pronounced.

Keyed up on bloodlust and adrenaline, the other vampire hissed in his face. “I was having a nice evening, enforcer,” he complained. “I think I’ll make my biggest spectacle yet tonight. I’d like to see the Vanguard try to cover me up after this.”

It was just too easy.

“I’ll oblige you,” Colfax spat back, once again meeting that gaze and giving a yank of his hypnotic influence.

As the man faltered, Colfax pushed back against him, grasping the front of his shirt and hoisting him up easily. As the vampire flew backwards in his abrupt toss, he struck the corner of the hallway and something snapped while the wall splintered. A screech echoed in both directions down the hallway, only exciting Colfax’s instincts further. He was upon his quarry before the other vampire even landed on the ground.

With his spine broken, the hotshot could only lie there as Colfax lurked over him. Behind his pain and anger, new fear lurked in his undead heart. Centuries weren’t easy to build up, but he might as well be fresh to his abilities compared to Colfax.

“You don’t even know how to brag about your age,” Colfax spat with contempt. “Allow me to demonstrate.” He stomped downwards on the man’s ribs to prompt a breathy howl, then squatted down.

“A thousand years ago, I watched the English skirmish with the Danes.” He grasped the man’s arm as it flailed at him, snapping both bones in it. “A thousand years before that, I heard news that Ovid had been banished from Rome.”

The man tried to sit up and twist away, and Colfax settled with a simple, straight hook to the face to leave the vampire leaning dazed against the wall. “I wasn’t done. A thousand years further and King David was building his promised land. He knew about our kind, you know. Someone like you thought to make sure of it.”

Vampires don’t strictly need to breathe, but the other was panting with open fear now. He tried to scoot away only for Colfax to grab the front of his shirt again. He pulled him close to meet his eyes one last time. “A thousand further still and my name already meant something. I could go on, but it seems you understand. You’ll be a spectacle, but not for the public. The Vanguard accepts your example. Congratulations.”

After so much teasing and pain, the other didn’t have the energy to resist. Colfax leaned forward and snapped as quick as a viper, opening the artery at the side of the vampire’s neck. All without taking a single drink of the dead blood flowing slowly there. A final insult.

He leaned back, spitting into a handkerchief and wiping away the remaining blood while the other vampire slowly and painfully ran out of stored energy to sustain his unlife. It was no stake to the heart, but that was a hunter’s method.

Colfax left him there as he stood and wandered back towards the conference room. He sent Gwen a quick text with the address of the building; she would likely have it razed and rebuilt. She liked projects like that to cover up a scandal and reinvigorate an area at the same time.

The young woman was unconscious when he found her. After a check that he wasn’t completely covered in blood that might get her in more trouble, he hoisted her up easily and carried her back out of the place she’d almost died.

He knew an officer to call to patrol the area and happen to find her and get her home. For unwittingly aiding the Vanguard, she’d earned a modicum of special treatment.

It was the least he could do.

#mywriting #colfax #vampfax #trust au #vampire au

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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templeofulchtar · 5 years

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Starscreamian Correspondences: Part One

This is Part One of a two-part series. The topic is so large that I couldn’t cover even half of it! This first post is a general discussion of correspondences as they relate to Starscream, while in Part Two, you will find an exercise to help you develop your own personalized set of correspondences for Starscream.

What are Correspondences?

Correspondences are things that people tend to associate with… well, other things. In magick, correspondences are used to evoke the power of certain entities, or weave certain energies into your ritual or spell. A correspondence can be almost anything, from plants, colors, weapons, planets, constellations, elements, musical instruments, animals, numbers, crystals, days of the week, and so on.

Roses, for example, are sacred to Venus. So are apples, copper, the color green, the number five, and Friday. If you were to create a ritual that taps into Venusian energy, you might have it on a Friday, Venus’ sacred day, and make an offering of five roses, a green apple, or five copper pennies; you might light a green candle and write your intention using a pen with copper-colored ink. By using these correspondences, you are anchoring your working in Venusian energy, which will help you realize intentions associated with Venus, such as love or abundance.

Starscream has correspondences too.

Quite a lot of them, in fact! His classic colors of Silver and Red are obvious correspondences, as is the Eagle, since his G1 alt-mode is that of an F-15 Eagle. Numerologically, his name equates to the number 36 (or 9), so I consider those to be his sacred numbers, and his signature weapon, the Null-Ray, and coronation crown are also very much associated with him.

In addition to these ‘canon’ correspondences, I also have a large set of personal correspondences for Starscream. Some I can back up with evidence, while others are idiosyncratic. For example, I can make a reasonably solid argument for why I think Starscream is a Scorpio, but my reasons for thinking of the Thistle as one of his plant totems are more personal.

Below are my thoughts on some of the more canon-supported correspondences for Starscream. These are just suggestions. Take what resonates, and leave the rest. Your path with Starscream is yours, and it's ultimately up to you, and him, to decide what's best.

Starscream’s Weapons

Starscream has a number of weapons, ranging from deadly (his cluster-bombs) to comical (the slingshot he uses in *More Than Meets The Eye, Part 2*). But of course it’s his signature weapon, the Null-Ray, that’s always held the greatest fascination for me. Marvel's *Transformers Universe* comic series describes the null-ray as being "able to interrupt the flow of electricity in any circuitry... for periods of up to two minutes."

How cool is that? Not only does it interrupt the flow of energy through circuitry, but it also appears to stabilize or neutralize energies that have become unbalanced. It has even been shown to have healing properties. In the episode Auto Berserk, for example, Starscream fired his null-ray at Red Alert, causing his logic circuits to stabilize. Magickally speaking, the Null-Ray has so many potential applications that I ended up writing a separate post for it, complete with a meditation. See The Null-Ray: Magickal Uses.

Starscreamian Colors

I love how colorful the Seekers are! They are like splendidly plumaged birds, each with his own vivid color scheme that's uniquely his. I have some headcanon regarding color in TFs. For example, I like the idea that a character's outward colors aren't paint, but are created by chromites—that is, specialized nanites that create the color and finish on the character's frame. I also like the idea that the chromites respond to the character's spark in creating his or her signature colors and patterns, and so there is often a correspondence between a character's frame color and the color of their spark.

Color is a fun topic. There is no doubt that color has a potent psychological, and even physiological effect, on us, and I wear Starscream’s colors a lot. For this reason, it makes complete sense to use it in magick. It can be incorporated into your workings in countless ways (too many to list!), but here is a quick run-down of colors I associate with Starscream, and what their magickal associations tend to be:

Red: The color of human blood, red is associated with vitality, life force, passion, instinctual drives, survival and sexuality. It’s also thought to be the color of the Root, or Base Chakra, which is located at the perineum and is associated with survival and security.

Silver: The metal silver is associated with the Moon, with night, feminine forces, yin, intuition, the deep subconscious, wisdom and secrets.

Blue: The color of Earth’s sky, blue is also thought to be the color of the Throat Chakra, associated with mind, science, reason, speech, writing and other forms of verbal communication. It’s also the color most associated with water, and has connotations of purity and cleansing.

Yellow: The color of our Sun, yellow is thought to be the color of the Solar Plexus Chakra, located between the ribs and the navel on a human. This Chakra is associated with ego, will, drive and aggression. It's interesting that the only yellow part of Starscream is his brilliant golden-yellow cockpit canopy, and that when he's in root mode, it's located in roughly in the same location as the Solar Plexus Chakra would be on a human. It's as if his Will or Ego center is hugely overblown and exaggerated - which is actually true! In fact, his French name is Ego).

Gold: The color of Starscream’s crown is, as you might imagine, the color associated with extravagance, wealth, riches, and excess, though it is also associated with illumination, love, compassion, courage, passion, magic, and wisdom.

Purple: The color of Starscream’s coronation mantle is purple, a color which represents the sythesis of blue’s calm stability with red’s fierce energy. Purple is associated with intuition, the psychic realm, royalty, creativity, luxury, power, pride, homosexuality, ambition, mysticism, independence, magic and… wouldn’t you know it… resurrection. (And, of course, Decepticons.)

The Mantle

Starscream’s coronation outfit. Le sigh.

Okay, confession time: I’ll admit that I felt embarrassed and vaguely uneasy the first time I watched the coronation scene, and as we all know by now, it turned out my sense of unease was fully justified. Whenever things go well for Starscream, it’s pretty much always because the writers are setting him up for a fall; and what a fall this was.

*pauses to sigh again*

But in seriousness, there’s a lot to be said about the symbolism of these clothing items. A mantle represents authority. In fact, when we say that someone is ‘assuming the mantle’ of something, it means they are taking on a specific role or position, along with any associated responsibilities.

Perhaps the presence of the mantle in the coronation scene was intended to underline the idea that Starscream was overstepping his assigned role in life, and that he was unprepared, or unfit, to take on the responsibilities associated with the role he’d just usurped.

There is, of course, another way of looking at it, one that is especially suitable for Ghost Season symbolism, which can be summarized by the saying, ‘fake it ‘til you make it.’ Our goals and ambitions *should* be a stretch for us. They should be a challenge, and they will almost certainly push us into taking on new roles and responsibilities for which we may feel unfit, or unprepared. That’s how growth is.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is brazen things out. Put on your mantle, wear it with pride, and prepare your acceptance speech. “Fellow Decepticons! As your new leader…” In time—and with practice—your new mantle will begin to feel as much a part of you as your null-rays.

Until then, my friend, fake on! (It looks so damn good on you.)

The Crown

Crowns, as you can probably guess, represent royalty. They correspond with the Crown Chakra, the energy center which connects us to universal energy (aka God), and thus symbolizes a monarch’s ‘divine’ right to rule. This is a very ancient idea. Throughout history, rulers have been viewed either as gods themselves, or as divinely appointed.

The Transformers series is fully on board with this notion, presenting the Autobot Matrix as a stand-in for the divine force that confers kingship upon those it deems worthy. In other words, those who possess a special, mysterious quality get divinely appointed to rule over the rest of us. Call it… the Touch. But Starscream, in refreshingly iconoclastic fashion, upends this whole paradigm.

Sure, he could wait around for a sparkly rock to decide he’s worthy to rule, or he could take matters into his own hands. Of course by doing so, he violated the established ‘natural order’ of the Transformers universe, and because of this, he was swiftly put back in his place. One does not simply appoint oneself king! You must stand around and wait until the sparkly rock chooses you. (Obviously!)

In light of what I’ve said above, you may already have guessed that you can invoke the symbolism of the crown as a means of activating to your Crown Chakra and connecting to the divine, especially your own divine nature. The crown can also symbolize the act of choosing oneself; of reclaiming one’s personal and spiritual authority.

Starscream’s crown has four prongs. In numerology, 4 represents stability, rationality, structure and rules. It’s linked to the Emperor card in the Tarot deck—which is interesting, since the Emperor, in Tarot, is the king of kings—and it’s also associated with the Death card. In some cultures, 4 is considered an unlucky number due to its association with death, but the Death card in Tarot is actually a positive card which symbolizes transformation. Starscream’s crown is an excellent symbol to employ if you are seeking to take charge of your life through your magick, or to transform it in a deep and powerful way.

The scarlet gems which adorn Starscream’s crown are another obvious bit of symbolism. We’ve already talked about the symbolism of the color Red, and we could speculate about what type of gems those are (rubies, perhaps?), but since this is getting long, I want to draw your attention to that central, hexagonal gem that sits directly on the forehead of the crown.

That is a Third Eye. It actually looks like one of Starscream’s own optics, but turned sideways—a classic depiction of a Third Eye. The Third Eye is the Sixth Chakra, which on humans is thought to be located on the forehead, above and directly between the eyes. It governs intuition and psychic abilities, making Starscream’s crown a wonderful symbol to employ in psychic development or awakening one’s intuition.

In the next post, I’ll give you an exercise for developing your very own, personalized set of correspondences. Keep reading!

#starscream #starscream spirit guide #pop culture magick #pop culture paganism #pop culture spirituality #pop culture spirit guides #starscream's crown #starscream's null-ray #symbolism #magical correspondences

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silvensei · 5 years

Text

Complementary

Shou, having grown up messing with psychic powers, figured out how to leave his body. The obvious next step is trying to take over another.

Started this like a year ago, based on this post I stumbled upon by @hydrachea, and finally got around to finishing it! Just some rowdy espers being teen boys.

(On AO3 too! Link in a reblog because I never know if external links are functional)

Ritsu narrowed his eyes, the question he was just given running through his head for a third and fourth time. Sitting on his bed, staring ahead, he tried for a fifth pass to work out what he could possibly say next. Mmm…nope. “You’re going to have to say that…one more time.”

Seated on the ground in the center of his room, legs crossed, back straight (a bit unusual for the rowdy teen), and a barely contained smirk on his lips, Shou drummed his hands on his ankles. “I asked,” he repeated, carefully, “if I could perhaps…for a little bit…borrow…your body.”

Ritsu ran a hand down his face. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s what I thought you said.”

“I know what you’re thinking, dude: It’s not something you hear every day—”

“No, it’s really not!”

His hands changed their rhythm, quickening into a drumroll before finding their pattern. “So. To give you some backstory—”

“That would be great, thanks.”

“—some lore, now, okay.” Pata-tata pata-tata pata-tata. “So my dad used to know this one psychic in town. Or not know him; he kept tabs on every esper around, so I would steal copies of his records to see what powers people had, because if some rando can do it, why can’t I? And so this guy, his specialty was astral projection, but he like, leapt from his body just to spy on people or watch his neighbor’s Netflix or some shit. Anyway, didn’t take long to figure out. You could probably pick it up, too. Your brother is probably doing it right now, watching from above, oooo….” He tapped out a light decrescendo, leaning forward for effect.

Ritsu quirked his eyebrows. It was just a joke, but he still wondered. What would Shigeo even use it for?

With one final beat, Shou swung his hands to the floor behind him, leaning back on his propped arms. “It got me thinking: What am I when I astral project? It’s still me, but not in my body, so am I a ghost? Am I like a spirit? And since regular spirits can possess people, then….” As if going over it again knocked his confidence down a peg, he flashed a sheepish smile.

His friend did not react. “You want to possess me,” he said.

“I want to see if it’s possible!” Shou corrected. “And if it is, then would I get—would we have double the power? Would you look different at all, like some sign that it wasn’t all you in there? Will you be awake at all? Just think of the possibilities! The pranks!”

Ritsu’s stomach turned. This is crazy. This doesn’t just happen. Your friend doesn’t just saunter into your house unannounced, steal a soda from the fridge, make light banter with your family, and then body snatch you. It doesn’t happen!

…but…what if...?

He closed his eyes, head shaking back and forth. “This is insane,” he grumbled. “People ask to borrow phone chargers and cups of sugar, not....” He waved a hand towards his head before letting it drop to his blankets.

Shou took a swig of his soda. It was already almost empty. “I get it, I’ve been sitting on this for like, weeks, but I’m not just gonna go possess some poor bastard off the street; I do have some morals. And who else am I supposed to ask, a non-esper? My old man? Your brother?”

Process of elimination, that made logical sense, but it didn’t do much to quell his concerns. It’s not like he didn’t trust Shou. His close friend Shou Suzuki was different from the enigmatic threat Shou Suzuki that burned down his house on their second meeting. Now, that didn’t mean he would trust Shou with everything. Maybe to return a loaned book. Maybe not with the care and well-being of a life. His life in this case.

But it’s not like he would be unsupervised. Probably. When Dimple possessed him, not only was he awake, but in control, too, so there was a chance Shou wouldn’t even be able to do anything. And Dimple did help his powers develop astonishingly quickly. Maybe….

Ritsu grumbled, falling back on the bed. God damn it, he was curious to see what would happen, but just the thought of it made his skin crawl. It was enough of a tough decision when it was a weak little smart-aleck of a ghost whom he could use solely as a mean to a desperate end. This, however, was his friend. His living human friend that he saw on a regular basis, in his own living human body. They hadn’t ever hugged before, and now Shou would be using his arms, existing within his head—oh god, would he be able to hear Shou’s thoughts?

“You overthinking things with that big brain of yours again?” The empty can clattered onto Ritsu’s desk. “It’s not like I’m going to steal your life and go on a heist spree. It’ll be a few minutes, maybe more if something cool happens. A day max.”

“A day?!”

“A couple hours, absolute max, it’s up to you. I’d offer to do your homework while I’m you, too, but we both know I don’t know shit about school and no one would want that.”

That earned a half-smile from Ritsu. If Shou went to class as him, he felt his grades would instantly drop a letter as soon as he walked through the door. Student Council would fall into shambles. Shigeo would try to exorcise him.

The mattress tossed him an inch into the air when Shou flopped on his stomach to Ritsu’s left. “So…?” he asked, looking over with one of his trademarked trickster teen grins.

It’d be an experiment. Had this ever been done before? Few people seem to be as versatile in the psychic arts as Shou and the other espers of Seasoning City. And even if it had, he doubted it was documented in any way, so the previous query was really a moot point. But would it actually combine their powers into an unstoppable force? Should another threat ever come to this magnet of a town, it would be useful to have a trump card like that. A trump card like…having control of himself wrest from his grasp from a being within his own skin….

Ritsu folded his hands over his midriff, tapping a finger against his knuckle. “None of this seems just the least bit…wrong to you?” he asked, pointedly looking at the ceiling.

“What, hanging out over the weekend to possess my best friend?”

He pursed his lips. “Yes, that.”

“Uncommon, yeah, but it’s only wrong based on your definition of it.” Shou tried to make wise and erudite gestures like pointing and tapping his head even though lying face-down restricted his movement. “Spirits do it all the time, it’s just how they are, but we only question their intentions, not the action itself.”

“But you’re not a spirit! You’re alive, you have your own body, and this isn’t natural at all, intentions or otherwise.”

“You can say none of these powers are ‘natural’ in the first place, but we’re stuck with ‘em anyway.” He mimed air quotes a couple times more.

Ritsu didn’t have an argument for that. It was a good point. A year ago, bending spoons wouldn’t have seemed natural to him, either; it was just an anomalous habit of his anomalous brother.

“And I do have a body, no shit, Sherlock,” he continued, “but since I can separate myself from it, it’s more like just a sweet suit with bitchin’ hair. The me that’s me is the personality and the superpowers. It doesn’t really matter to me whether that personality is in my head or yours, ‘cause I’m me either way, and you’ll still be you.”

Ritsu looked over at him, for the first time since he posited the question. Shou had dropped the grin in favor for a small, neutral frown as he picked at a loose thread he found in the blankets. “How long did you say you’ve been thinking about this…?” he asked.

The boy met his eyes, but instead of an answer, he got a smile with too many teeth. “Does that mean you’re game?”

Ritsu took a deep breath. Then he took another one. If anything, it beat doing algebra. “Sure. Fine. I don’t have to do anything besides be here, after all. But—!” He sat up and pointed a finger at his overzealous companion. “No leaving this house—no leaving this room, actually, why would you need to. No haircuts, no photos, no calls, no texts, no— just—!” He stopped himself. He did trust him. To an extent. He sighed. Instead of trying to tie up every possible loophole, he concluded with, “Just have some respect, is all.”

Shou’s burnt orange aura flared up, throwing him off the bed to stand. He snapped his feet together to attention and saluted, a giddy grin on his face and supernatural fire in his eyes. “You can count on me, Captain!”

And then his aura moved without him, whipping around at the edges before amassing over his shoulders. The energy glowed and coalesced before it darted away, a pale tangerine shape spinning in circuits up to the ceiling.

Shou’s face went slack, his eyes losing their light as they slid shut, mouth falling with the rest of his body. “Don’t—!” Ritsu swore before swooping in to catch him, half holding him up before his upper torso could hit the edge of the bed. “Don’t just do that with no warning! I didn’t think you meant right this instant!”

He kneeled to safely lower his friend to the floor. As soon as he let go, the orange form darted into view. He winced and threw up an arm on reflex, but it hung in front of him, over the body lying comatose (lifeless?) on the ground. It was Shou-shaped for the most part, if Shou were made of fog physically vibrating with excitement. Which he currently was.

Ritsu lowered his arm, as well as his instinctive psychic defenses. He sighed and turned to lean back against his bed. “Just give me more of a heads up next time,” he said before closing his eyes.

He could hear the hum of power before he felt it. A force slammed into his senses, causing a barrier to flare up before he steadied himself and dispelled it. The moment it wisped away, it was like a frozen stake shot through his brain. A telltale sign of possession, he knew, but it didn’t stop there this time. His breath caught in his throat as a chill clouded his head, sending a violent shiver down his spine, seeping into his lungs and through his skin to his fingertips. A gasp escaped him, and his eyes blinked open, before the cold stopped in its tracks, fully freezing over, encasing him in ice and locking him in place.

And then his eyes blinked again. A slow breath filled his chest that bubbled to a roll of laughter as his lips spread to bare his teeth. “Oh, Ritsu,” he sung, “you better be awake for this, ‘cause this is fucking wicked!”

Jesus, thought Ritsu, most definitely still conscious and most definitely thrown out of control. He tried to say that aloud with a grimace, neither of which his body emulated. This is disconcerting.

His head perked up. “Hey, there you are!” his voice announced. “You still sound like you in my head—our head—”

My head.

“Our head, and I sound like you, too! Double the Ritsu!” Shou cracked his borrowed neck, interlacing his fingers and pushing his palms to the sky in a stretch. “I’ve never heard you sound this happy before!”

And you still haven’t.

“Mm, that’s a debate you will lose on a technicality. And you should stretch more often, bro, it feels cramped in here.”

Because it is cramped in here!

Shou jumped to his feet, rolling his shoulders. Ritsu groaned. This was nothing like the time with Dimple. He was just hoping he wouldn’t regret this decision any more than he already did.

His eyes swept the room, his hands rotating in loose circles that cracked his wrists. “Yo, you don’t have a mirror in here?”

No.

“That’s fine, probably one in the bathroom, right?” he asked, already moving to open the door into the hallway.

Shou, what did I—!

“Chill, dude, I just wanna see how you look.” Shou cracked open the door, checked for anyone in sight, and slipped into the bathroom across the hall, closing the door behind him with a soft click. When the lights flicked on, they both gasped.

Shou stared back from the square mirror over the sink. Anyone would know it was Shou. Blue eyes were a rarity in Japan, and anyone would immediately know that what looked and sounded like Ritsu Kageyama was in reality the furthest thing from him, an impostor that replaced his dark russet eyes with stark sea blue. Ritsu did not like it one bit, oh, no no no.

“Whoa,” Shou breathed in awe. He gripped the sides of the mirror, tilting his head every which way while taking in the reflection. “This is dope! This…is a bit creepy, not gonna lie, but it could work, you could make it work! Fluff up your hair a bit, get rid of the haunting sleepless gaze, give ‘em a smile—just play it like I would! Oh, pshh. Forgot!” He cocked his head to a three-quarter view, shooting a half-smirk and wink at himself. “That won’t be hard.”

Ritsu wanted to die. His image, being perverted so. The embarrassment was unprecedented, and the fact that he physically could not look away and hide from the world made it that much worse. At least that meant his face wouldn’t show the disturbed blush. Don’t act like it’ll stay that way, he whined. It’ll go back to normal when you’re gone.

His hand held up a finger. Still talking to the reflection, Shou asked, “What if I’m not in control? Still blue?”

Ritsu would have scrunched up his nose if he still could. Damn him and his good questions.

“Now how do I do that…?” his voice muttered. His hands dropped to the sink as he finally looked away, drumming his fingers on the porcelain. “What if…I dissociate, but not project…?” He closed those foreign eyes and repeated it under his breath, slowing his tapping.

The fog seemed to clear from Ritsu's head, loosening the chill he was in, until it rushed back through his palms—the cold porcelain underhand. He was also immediately reminded that his chest had weight from the beating heart and lungs just beginning to tighten and burn without air. He took a breath, curling his toes and taking stock of everything else. Everything back under his control.

He still didn’t feel completely himself, but it was worlds better than before, when his feet were too numb to even feel grounded.

Relishing the feeling of just being able to feel his breathing again, Ritsu glanced up into the mirror. He grimaced, an action meant to distract him from the knot in his stomach. Still blue.

“I really don’t like these eyes,” he said. His voice sounded better in his cadence. “They’re...too bright.”

Nah, bro, yours are just too dark. The idea bloomed in his head, like he had imagined Shou’s voice, except that it kept going without his permission: At least now you don’t look like a zombie.

“I don’t look like a zombie,” he muttered before narrowing his eyes at his reflection. He just realized he was having a conversation with himself. Technically schizophrenia. What a day.

Ya totally do, dude, you barely sleep some days. Yo, use your powers on something!

“Hm?” Ritsu raised an eyebrow at the mirror. Right, they were testing their powers like this. He noticed the hand towel on the wall behind him and directed his focus at it. The familiar light tingle of his powers prickled his skin as his turquoise aura appeared around it, darting it around him to float over the sink. “It looks the same. Same color, same texture.”

And coming in for the pass—! His breath caught for a mere moment as the ground was snatched from under him, dropped into a dunk tank of ice water after a successful throw. His aura splashed around the towel before swirling into a glittering citrine. His fists punched the air. “Fuck yeah!”

I’m gonna be sick.

“Don’t be dramatic; not while I’m driving, you’re not.”

Ritsu groaned and dragged his hands down his face. Neither of those things actually happened.

Shou laughed, his current voice rising to the point where it could almost be called a giggle. “No, no, I get it, it’s weird as shit, but come on! It’s so rad!” The towel darted around the small room at his behest, the bright orange aura highlighting its path like a comet. “Like, I dunno if you can feel it, but my powers don’t have the same oomf to them. Your body might not have enough juice to keep ‘em running like I’m used to.”

Well, sorry we can’t all be hotshot prodigies. Ritsu skipped being offended and instead watched the towel spin in a tight circle—not like he had any choice in where his eyes went. Just in the top right of his periphery, he could still make out a bit of his reflection in the mirror. It was out of focus, but it was still enough to notice his too-light eyes. Think my powers can add to yours? he asked, bringing up one of Shou’s earlier inquiries to change the subject.

“Give it a shot, bro.”

He focused on the towel and its path, trying to help push it along, to speed it up. After a moment, he was unsure if his powers were even working, his hands too far from his senses to tell if his palms were tingling. Then something slotted into place in his head and the towel kicked into double time, instantly spinning so fast it twisted and knotted itself into a plush wad. Aquamarine swirled among the amber aura, making...an uncomfortable color, actually; blue and orange mixed together like that was rather unappealing to look at.

“Sweet!” The grin Shou had pulled onto Ritsu’s face only grew. His face was starting to get sore. “Now try the other way! I’ll throw it left, you go right, yeah?”

What, oppose each other?

“Yeah! Psychic arm wrestling! ‘Kay, in three, two, one—”

The towel ignited.

Shou beamed like a kid on Christmas. He threw his arms up fast enough to bounce his heels off the floor. “Fuck yeah! Now it’s a party!”

Out of sheer panic and adrenaline, Ritsu snatched hold of his hands, throwing them at the towel, encasing it in a bubble of energy. His breathing was quick (hey, he was breathing) as he watched the flame flicker and reflect off his aura for a few seconds before it suffocated and snuffed out. He blinked (hey!) and tried to slow his hyperventilation, gripping his shirt in an attempt to dampen the thumping of his racing heart. The towel fell into the sink, the faintest bit of smoke pluming from its singed corner. “Who the fuck did that?” he asked, a slight strain to his voice he failed to wrangle. “Because it wasn't me!”

Not me!

“Uh-huh.” Ritsu glared into the mirror, fully accusing those eyes. “Sorry, but I've come not to trust you with fire.”

Honest, man, I didn't mean to do it! Our fusion powers are probably just different now, unpredictable! Guess we just gotta get out there and practice: bend a lot of spoons or some shit, maybe go teach some thugs a lesson, go lift some rocks in Dagobah—

“Hang on, fusion? You gave it a name already?!” Ritsu twisted the tap on for a half second to douse the towel before dropping it in the trash. “Nuh-uh, that's enough. We're not going out getting into fights, not when it's my body on the line.”

Fine, we can use mine next time.

“Next time?!” Ritsu’s fuming as a defense mechanism was made even more frustrating by not having a target to direct his reproval at; blaming his reflection was just too strange. “Wha— Why— How could you—!”

The door clicked open behind him. He spun around, startled and already trying to come up with explanations, excuses. He was able to open his mouth before he was pushed out of control again, his excuses contained within his head.

Shigeo raised his eyebrows, standing in the doorway. “Oh. Hi, Suzuki.”

The grin was back on his face. Shou shifted his weight to one leg and waved a hand. “Yo, lil’ bro! What’s up?”

“I was going to ask Ritsu a question and noticed something seemed off upstairs.”

Ritsu was thanking any power up there that Shigeo was taking this so well. By this point, it shouldn’t be surprising, but still. Shou hummed. “A disturbance in the force, you say….”

“I didn’t say that—”

“Nah, nothing’s wrong. Just guys bein’ dudes, hangin’ out.”

Shigeo paused for a beat. “Why are you in my brother?”

“Just messing around, testing out some powers. Hey, you wanna be Ritsu, too? It’s fun!”

Shou, don’t just say shit like that, Ritsu protested, uncomfortable. What was he, a sampler plate?

Shigeo’s brief hesitation didn’t help his unease. “No,” he eventually answered. His expression changed, ever so slightly, so much so he doubted Shou caught it. “No, I’ve had my share of possession, I think. I’ll keep to myself.”

Ritsu’s stomach would’ve dropped if it could. What the fuck does that mean??

Turns out Shou didn’t catch it. He whistled and lightly jabbed Shigeo’s shoulder with his elbow, asking, “What’s that, a rebellious streak? Moonlighting as a spirit? Spy missions?”

Shigeo ignored him, his composure already back to normal. “Is Ritsu in there, too?”

“Mm-hm.” Shou gave him a brisk nod before pushing Ritsu to the front, all his numbed senses switching on at once. He blinked to catch his bearings before opening his mouth to actually voice his concerns over that cryptic statement. He stopped himself, though, realizing Shigeo wouldn’t answer in this situation. He’d save it for later. “Yeah,” he said instead, “I’m here.”

“Mom wants to know if Suzuki is staying for dinner.”

Ritsu smiled—a normal, content smile, not one of Shou’s manic grins. “You could’ve just asked him, you know.”

“I guess, but you’re the host, so it seemed polite to ask you.”

Despite the last half hour’s whirlpool of emotions, he couldn’t help but snicker at his brother’s word choice. “I don’t know, are you staying— Hell yeah, I am!” Shou jumped in. The last thing Ritsu clearly felt was nearly biting his tongue.

“Okay.” Shigeo watched them for a moment. “You know, Ritsu, your eyes are blue now.”

“Yeah! It’s cool, right? Ritsu doesn’t like ‘em, but I think it makes him look less tired.”

He considered it. “A little.”

What do you want from me? Ritsu muttered, as well as he could in his head. Should I start wearing contacts now?

From downstairs, he heard his mom call something; he wasn’t paying enough attention to hear what. Shigeo stepped out into the hallway and called back, “Suzuki would like to stay for dinner.”

“How is he, anyway?” she asked, probably from the base of the stairs. “He’s quieter than usual.”

“He’s just possessing Ritsu for a bit.”

“Well, tell him that while I don’t mind one less mouth to feed, he should stop soon and come down himself. Growing boys need to eat.”

Ritsu wanted to hold his face in his hands. Why is my family like this.

Shigeo turned to relay the info, but Shou waved him off, saying, “No worries, I’ll leave in a sec.” Shigeo nodded and left.

“Yo. Bro.” Shou spun back to the mirror, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. It was the look he had when he was planning to get into trouble. “Next time? We gotta go flying. With our powers combined, we could go. So fast. As long as we don’t spontaneously combust, but hey, everyone needs a bit of practice!”

Damn it. Pushed into being a passenger in his head, possessed like it was the god damn Exorcist, and here he was, being tempted by power. Again. They did seem stronger together, and Shou had a wider variety of psychic talents than him. It could be beneficial to learn from him like this. Maybe it would even be—dare he think it—fun, doing things he wouldn’t normally be able to. The blue eyes still creeped him out, though. That wouldn’t change. He’d still hate that.

Good thing there weren’t any mirrors a hundred feet in the air.

Fine, Ritsu huffed. But now, you’re getting out. Dinner first. Flying later.

“Fuck yeah!”

#Mob Psycho 100 #Suzuki Shou #Kageyama Ritsu #MP100 fanfiction #My writing #getting back into the swing of things with writing #finally #the season 2 hype caught me #possession #shenanigans #and the like #I've been debating titles for 24 hours now just take it #Complementary like colors like blue and orange yeah?#*tired shrug*

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theuninspirednovelist · 5 years

Text

Barista! Thor and Artist! Loki - Give away gift

@thorkilaufeyson wanted a fluffy piece and even though it is late, omg!! i LOVED writing it.

There was something to be said about the clear afternoon skies in the city. It was his favorite time to be here, honestly, where afternoon was just bidding farewell and the evening was being welcomed by skies of gold and navy blue.

They met together, somehow, never clashing, always complimenting even though the colors were starkly different. It was mesmerizing and he loved to sit there with his quick paint kit and try getting at least a little of the skies captured in his paintings.

Loki had always been drawn to water colors. There was something so delicate and precise about them that he was taken by them in the first art class he took. One had to know exactly how the stroke would go, each twist of the wrist or flick of a finger was measured and calculated. Even holding the brush in his hand was an art – it was graceful and the results were often directly linked to his mood.

He remembered the first time he came here to this café. He had been upset, uninspired and frustrated because he hadn’t been able to paint in over a week. He ordered his drink and sat down, huffing in frustration as he glared at the table top with a wrath that the poor thing didn’t deserve.

With his crossed arms and a pout upon his lips, Loki had raised his eyes to the window, to the landscape before him just to have something other than his failure before him. And he found it.

He would never forget the sky that day.

It was the kind if sky that made him hear orchestras playing in the background, in his opinion. A gathering of skies grey and large, resting above the bluest sky he had ever seen. Rays of gold shot out from behind it like a vivid dream turned reality.

Loki took his phone out and swiped for the camera, taking a picture so he could have it with him for as long as he wanted.

“Beautiful, right?”

He blinked, offended by the intrusion, and turned to the person who had spoken from behind him.

And suddenly, the sky wasn’t the bluest thing he’d seen today anymore.

Loki found himself looking into the eyes of an Adonis.

The color was so fantastic that Loki imagined ballads written about those eyes. Loki had thought that eyes that reminded him of glaciers would have been cold, yet this pair, the one focused on him was so brilliant and warm that it stunned him. It knocked him out of his own mind, he couldn’t speak.

He just stood there, looking at those eyes, a skyscape in itself, watching them crinkle at the sides when the man smiled at him.

“Sorry” he chuckled, leaning over “You forgot your change”

Loki stared dumbly again, noticing only then that this man – this Adonis – had an apron wrapped around a massive body and the café’s uniform hat on his head.

“Uh…” Loki began, forgetting his words.

“You’re welcome” the man chuckled and tipped his hat to him “Have a good day”

Dumfounded, Loki once more, only stared as he went off and left him there with his phone and his coffee and his change, staring after him.

He realized then that the hair he’d had up in a bun, was actually just as gold as the sun in his picture.

***

Loki quickly became a regular.

He visited every afternoon. Since he was an artist and a semi successful one at that, he found it easy to manipulate his hours so that the time between the evening and the afternoon was free for him.

And if he’d managed to find out the shift timings for the hot blonde god who had come over to him, well, that was just a bonus Loki would live with. He liked seeing his face, a skyscape, bright and beautiful, stunning in a way even skies couldn’t manage.

He always took Loki’s order and always made it a point to smile at him or wink at him, something that made his greeting a little different, little unique.

And Loki found it heart warming.

He found it inspiring so much so that he came one day with this small portable paint kit he’d ordered offline on impulse. He’d never used it before but he found he liked it now. It made it easier to be with his barista, too.

The kit itself was nothing too fancy but the way he – Thor, Loki loved that name – looked at it, made Loki love it more than he did before. The second Loki whipped it out of his small bag, Thor was over, his blue eyes wide with interest.

“What is that?” he asked, abandoning his post

“Art kit” Loki boasted about it as though it was always his favorite thing in the world “It helps me paint wherever I am, you want to watch?”

“Uh…” Thor looked behind him at the counter, then back at him, clearly torn “Give me a second”

Loki smiled a little as he went off and began to work on the little sketchbook he had with himself. He hummed a little to a song that was playing lightly in the café as he worked, managing to copy the skies from the window in water colors before Thor came over, smiling.

“Sorry” he said, putting a pastry in front of Loki “that took longer than I expected.”

“I didn’t notice” Loki shrugged

“Yeah cos you’re someone who gets noticed, not the other way around” Thor dug into the pastry

Loki looked at him a second and the lightest dusting of a blush rested on his cheek.

“How unoriginal”

“Really?” Thor asked “You want me to talk about your eyes?”

“I want you to swallow before speaking” Loki told him

At that, Thor blushed and Loki felt a minor victory at that. He went back to his painting, noting how slowly, Thor dragged his chair closer and closer until he was sitting right next to him. He kept working, however, never faltering in his creation until Thor placed a hand on the back of his chair.

Loki ruined a stroke and let out a soft gasp, pulling back and looking at Thor

“Damn it, Thor!”

Thor frowned “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”

He pulled back immediately and looked at the painting, at the stroke that shouldn’t be there, the frown on Loki’s face.

“I – It doesn’t look bad” Thor winced “I’m sorry, I really am”

Loki exhaled and looked at the painting, hesitant to paint on it again.

“Oh, come on, please finish it?” Thor said “I’ll give you anything you want from the shop, on the house”

That perked Loki up and he chuckled

“Fine, but if it sucks when it’s done don’t blame me”

“I won’t” Thor smiled, looking at his eyes

He could see the painting reflected in Loki’s beautiful green eyes and he loved it. He loved this painting. His green gave it an ethereal quality. It was why he wanted the tiny painting, he was willing to bribe Loki to get it.

And one cupcake and half an hour later, Thor owned one of Loki’s masterpiece paintings.

***

Loki loved the window because of non Thor related reasons, too. For example, every day, just before the sun set, the skies and the streets melded together in a story, in a painting and he captured it immediately, with either his phone of his sketches.

Thor had thought that Loki only painted with his kit to spend time here, but one day, while Thor was working, Loki brought a large canvas, completed to the smallest detail, of the view from their café window.

It stunned Thor and made him gape as Loki came to show him, beaming at it in obvious pride.

He’d painted everything.

The curves of the roads till they couldn’t be seen, the buildings, the patterns of leaves and shade on the building, the strokes of paint on the very walls, the graffiti’s, the people, the cars, down to their license plates.

And he’d painted the sky with promises of blue shining through gold tinted clouds. The blush of pink at the very top made it magical and Thor noticed how it cast a realistic amber glow to everything the sunlight touched.

He loved it immediately.

He bought it instantly.

And the owner listened to him to have it displayed in Loki’s corner seat.

“I can’t believe you did this” Loki whispered the next day, sitting with Thor again “I’m touched”

Thor looked at him and winked.

He liked that smile on Loki’s lips.

***

After he had a taste of that smile, Thor felt like he needed to have it every day.

He knew eventually he would get in trouble, but he bought Loki a coffee every single day. He told him it was on the house and because it brought Loki there every afternoon, Thor didn’t mind.

He went over now, Loki’s order memorized, and set it next to him.

Loki raised his brow at him and smirked “You know you really need to stop flirting with me”

“I am not flirting” Thor smiled “I am just being extra nice to someone who is extra special”

Loki rolled his eyes but he felt the tinge of pink light his cheeks.

“That was stupid”

“But also effective” he said “you blush like one of those petals you paint, you know?”

“Stop” Loki chided, touching his cheeks “You’re breaking my concentration”

“Well, at least I’m breaking something” he winked at him “enjoy your coffee, its…”

“On the house, I know” Loki cut in, smiling “now go before you get fired”

“Alright, see you”

He waved at him and went back to his post. He kept giving Loki glances and studied him as he painted. Loki was fully relaxed at this moment, his shoulders were down, his eyes were lowered, his head tilted just a little.

He would tell Loki it was good he was an artist because he was a work of art himself.

He was sure Loki would slap him for it.

It made him smile and kept his day a little brighter.

And Loki, for his part, stole secret looks, too. The way Thor brushed his hair back, the way he smiled at every customer.

His smile was as bright as the skies in the painting behind Loki, hanging there, his work of art, in his coffee shop.

It warmed him, truly.

So when the next coffee arrived, Loki was ready but Thor only winked and turned to head away, because his manager was watching.

Loki waved his fingers at Thor as he went back, then returned to the painting he was making.

The sky was beautiful again.

***

Thor brought his coffee over a day later when something fell out of his pocket on his way back.

“Hoy, Thor!”

Loki reached over to pick it up just as Thor turned and the man winced

“Yikes, sorry”

Loki held the familiar paper, tough and slightly crumpled, opening it to see the painting he’d made, the one he’d ruined, still there, with the brush stroke on it.

“You kept it?”

“I keep it every day” Thor came over to pluck it from his fingers “I love it”

Loki smiled at him “You’re an idiot”

“Possibly” Thor put it back into his pocket “but you like it”

Loki snorted “I do not”

“You like it a little” Thor told him

“And you’re going to lose your job if you don’t get back to work”

“Deflection” Thor nodded “good strategy. Means I’m close”

“Close to?” Loki crossed his arms and cocked his hip

“Taking you out”

Loki rolled his eyes “In your dreams”

“Oh, my dreams are far worse” Thor chuckled as he stepped back “see you later, Lokes”

Loki grimaced at the name but said nothing as he went back to his art.

He worked there silently for a while again, but again he kept looking at Thor.

He knew the man stared, and Loki didn’t mind. He found he liked doing it too.

He already looked forward to meeting him tomorrow, deciding on saying yes immediately.

However when the sun began to set the next day, Loki came to see someone else in Thor’s usual spot and immediately the entire café felt darker. It felt wrong, all of it felt wrong.

He looked around, trying to catch sight of him but Thor wasn’t there and Loki bit his lip as he hesitantly went to take his usual seat, finding a jolt in his heart when a couple was already sitting there.

It was so strange, this unpleasant feeling inside him. He’d been so used to everything that this small, miniscule thing in his uneventful day upset him.

He had his paints with him and went to sit in a booth instead.

It somehow felt colder, foreign, more so when someone came to take his order rather than give him what he always wanted.

“Where’s Thor?” he asked instead of ordering from the person who came over

“Oh” she smiled “He’s out sick today but I could give you his number or something if you’d like?”

Loki felt his lips curve into a smile “Yes, I would like that. And tell me what his favorite coffee and dessert is…”

***

Thor groaned when the insistent knocking at his door didn’t stop.

He was in no mood for this! He was sick, he was gooey and disgusting and no human should ever be exposed to him this way. Humanity should never have know the shame of him being this ugly.

He was wearing one sock, his sleep shorts, a worn shirt and a blanket he’d pulled out of bed. His small one bedroom apartment was a mess, but he was past the point of caring. He wanted a bed and a TV and that was it.

His flu was unwanted but he couldn’t do anything about that.

Thor growled as the knocking continued and tried to brush back his messed up ruined hair.

“Alright, God damn it!” he said loudly as he unlatched his door “I swear to God if you’re delivering someone else’s pizza, I will…”

He froze when he opened it and saw Loki standing there, perfect, pristine, holding two cups of coffee and a bag that looked like it was from a pharmacy.

Thor slammed the door shut.

Loki smiled and pulled his lips inwards when he heard scrambling inside and thudding, a cuss, more thudding, hissing, coughing, and then…

Thor opened the door again.

He arched a brow when he saw the bad attempt at pulling his hair back – he’d made it worse – and the worse attempt at cleaning the apartment in the four seconds he had.

The blanket he had around himself was thrown behind the couch in a ball Loki could already see it but Thor leaned against the door, his face blotchy and his voice scratchy.

“Hey” he smiled “What – How did you find me?”

“Well” Loki walked into the apartment “I asked for your number and address and thought I would drop by. I heard you were sick”

“Stalker” Thor closed the door and turned to him, pointing to the bag “those are…?”

“Oh,” Loki set the coffee aside and opened the bag “lozenges, flu syrup, cough medicine, pain killers and…”

He pulled out a water color painting he’d done.

“Today’s skies”

Thor grinned and walked over to take the painting, laughing at it

“I love it”

“You’ll love it more when you feel better” Loki went to retrieve Thor’s blanket “Sit, I will care for you”

Nothing warmed Thor more than the care Loki showed, the lack of judgement about his messy apartment.

He put Thor on the couch and sat beside him, giving him his coffee, letting him be warm. Thor sat with his back against Loki’s side as they watched TV and hummed.

“So, is this out date?” Thor asked

Loki smirked “Well, you would have to ask me first”

He looked at him and Thor smiled

“Loki, would you like to go out sometime?”

“Sure” Loki beamed “as long as it’s not coffee”

“But as long as you bring your paints with” Thor reached over to touch his cup to Loki’s “I’m fine with it”

“Me too”

Loki took a sip and let Thor out his arm around his waist as they sat there, warm, comfortable and having their coffee, with Loki’s painting next to them

#thor #loki #thorki #fluff #sinny writes #my works #ficlet

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