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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls.

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods.

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires.

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past.

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him.

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places.

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease.

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone.

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely.

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-"

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue.

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you.

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?"

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium.

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back.

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..."

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze.

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy.

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

#are you feeling the angst yet #pierre gasly #pierre gasly X reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 rpf #f1 rpf #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfiction

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nocek · 3 years

Note

Don't spare us the long rant! We want to hear your thoughts!

Oh you are going to regret this ;P

So here goes my loooooooong angry rant about Taskmaster and also the Black Widow movie in general.

Let's start with my point of comparison. Captain America the Winter Soldier was a good movie. It's still in my top 3 Marvel movies as I'm sure is for many people. And statistically speaking everybody likes Bucky. He is like the most beloved side character right after Loki. I guess.

Anyway. My point is that Taskmaster and Winter Soldier have bit for bit the exact same building blocks: hypercompetent antagonist that is a serious threat to our hero who just can't win with in one on one combat. But then plot twist: our antagonist was just a victim and puppet without free will in hands of actual villain who is bland bureaucrat.

So why did Winter Soldier worked really really well and Taskmaster was just ehh.. ok?

Well the short answer is that catws was a much tighter movie that had clearer goal (and also that goal/theme was singular: good things get corrupted with time and sometimes you get to start over) compared to black widow which had to jump through too many hoops and still somehow managed it but it wasn't as graceful as it would be if they (as in executives) resigned from one or two hoops and flips and explosions.

And I'm omitting a BIG disadvantage of making a prequel movie about a character that they killed off in shitty way. Though that created one of extra hoops for them to jump through: quickly build up Yelena as a character.

And character build they did. Because srsly Yelena is awesome and I love her. BUT. That came at a price.

Lets compare to catws. The new character there is Sam (and kiiiiiiiinda also Natasha a bit but that's a topic for a different rant) who is nowhere near as well build as Yelena. At the beginning. Because he had time to be fleshed out and naturally grow in few different movies and then we got a deep dive in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

But Marvel can't give Yelena few movies because she will appear in Hawkguy an Hawkeye series and also Marvel is generally dividing their assets into: outer spaaaace, down to earth heros and magic stuff (aliens, androids and wizards ;P). But also they can only create so many things in a year.

So yeah. Yelena offtopic can be summarized that I love that we have her as we have her but it came at a cost of air time of the movie.

So comparing the movies again:

Catws had the theme of good things being corrupted with time. And the theme was underlined 3 times through Peggy, Bucky and then Shield/Hydra. Which are interconnected and also make nice scale from inner conflict of the main character to the outer conflict of the movie.

In Black Widow there is the topic of the past evil that never went away and is still taking away free will from people. And again we have it shown through 3 outlets: Yelena, Taskmaster and Black Widows. But there is also whole family subplot attached to Yelena and there is Red Room attached to Black Widows. So as you can see things are getting crowded. Which in turn make the theme a bit blurry.

I mean, sure, the Red Room should be the Shield equivalent. Even it could take smaller space because good Shield turns out to be evil Hydra is generally more time consuming to explain than Red Room bad. But still combining Red Room and Black Widows make things a bit crowded.

(There is a reason why the surprise subplot of there is more Winter Soldiers was in separate movie and was kinda handwaved and cut to minimum. But they couldn't do that here).

But it's time to stop my ranting about whole Black Widow movie and focus on comparing Taskmaster and Winter Soldier.

Because to be honest both are bare bones of character and more of an carte blanche in the movie. Both have barely any screen time yet there are colossal difference which stems out of:

first introduction: as I mentioned they are hypercompetent and unstoppable threat that you can't win with, you can only hope to run away (both done equally well)

programmable killing machine:

For Taskmaster we just get a scene with her watching other heroes fighting at the screen. For the sake of building up the mystery of character we think that "he" is just watching. Maybe learning or more likely just being creepy. The information about the chip and literal programming is given to us much later in the movie which makes this scene lose the power. idk how it will work on rewatch? Maybe better? Hopefully. right now there is too many new movies in cinemas to go for a rewatch and disney+ still isn't available here -.-

For Bucky we have literal torture scene. You just can't be more blunt than that. It also hammered the next point in.

there is human behind the mask:

Winter Soldier is introduced with full face mask which he gradually loses and then we have the big reveal of not only: that's a human but also that's a human our main hero cares about deeply.

With Taskmaster they fucked up it for chap plot twist. We are learning quite late that oh snap that's Antonia (that we don't really care about) and our main hero kinda feels guilty about her.

I think the big difference is what kind of character Steve and Nat are and also the way they reveal this secret. Steve actively recognizes Bucky by himself and is very openly shocked. Nat is passively told and shown that hey, this is Antonia. And there is no time in the movie for Nat (and for us) to be shocked because that's the 3rd act and we need time for explosions and stuff.

Besides, the problem is that all the big plot twist reveals are boring on rewatch (stil big props for Pacific Rim and giving us the monster reveal in like second minute of the movie, I will never not appreciate that).

Also on related shitty note. We the audience. Bucky is handsome and vulnerable and we can drool all over him (and oh man, we the fandom did a fair share of drooling). Antonia is disfigured and not sexualized in any way. Which I'm actually grateful for but there is no pretending that doesn't make a hell lot of difference. But that's a whole different, ugly and big topic I'm not remotely qualified to write about. I'm just angry ranting here.

they don't have free will:

For Winter Soldier we have amnesia + torture tropes which to be honest have been done over and over again and it shouldn't have worked as well as it worked. Bit it did. In context of Black Widow movie it worked because it was just one guy that actively broke through brainwashing with active help of the hero.

In Black Widow there is a lot of characters that are pasively "woken up" out of mind control over and over again by active protagonist. Unfortunately the repetition kinda cheapens it. Especially in comparison to main gut punch right in the feels scene in the other movie. Which is why it's not fair to compare the two.

So lets talk about lack of free will aspect itself. To be honest the mind control aspect in Black Widow was done really great from story perspective. Evil scientists perfected it to the point it being (bit handwavey but) completely impersonal but also completely dehumanizing to the subject. So I'm buying that it can be completely switched off in equally efficient and impersonal way. Even the way they explained it with Alexei the pig was great and terrifying... to a point. Because then kicked the main problem with this movie. Clearly some execs came and saw it and went whoa... that's too dark for pg13 blockbuster. Let's put some cheap jokes here. And it happens over and over again in this movie :S

humanizing flashback scene that ties them to main hero:

For Bucky, sure we had Captain America First Avenger but a movie needs to stand on it's own legs. That's why we have the flashback scene which shows us that Bucky cared about Steve. Leaving it at the narration in Smithsonian of "best friends since childhood" would be just telling us. And we needed to be shown and we needed a space for the "till the end of line" so it could come back and stab us right in the feels.

Also because we are ignoring previous movie Russos cleverly made us care about Winter Soldier because Steve cares about Winter Soldier. And we already know and like Steve so building up our main character gives us more mileage out of new bare bones character (because let's be honest, Winter Soldier is just that). Two birds one stone thing.

In Black Widow there is no such thing which IMHO is the main reason Taskmaster doesn't work. We just get information about cardboard cutout: insert cute little girl here (only told, not even shown actual cardboard) and all of the emotional connection to Natasha is: I know that my boss that I hate has a daughter, she got in the crossfire. Which means nobody cares.

All it would take is adding a short flashback scene. idk Dreykov is an asshole and doesn't care about Antonia but she is she cutest and most adorable little girl. She treats the Black Widows as older sisters. Hell if you want to make it more horrorish copy of the idea of Thor wanting to be a Valkyrie when he grows up or T'challa wanting to be a Dora Milaje. Little Antonia wants to be Black Widow when she grows up because they are badass and they are nice to her (and are also slightly confused by her) because she is nice to them and is only person that treats them as humans. Hell we could have short interaction between her and Nat. Just a smile between them would be enough.

You could get a lot of character buildup mileage out of such a short scene.

But it couldn't happen partially because the movie didn't have time for that but we didn't get that mostly because it would show us instead of telling that Nat killed a cute little innocent girl for her own personal gain. (well she thought she was destroying Red Room but mostly wanted to get away - vide she didn't check on Yelena or other widows. But I wouldn't hold that against her. It was put your oxygen mask first kind of situation. But still it would make her look bad)

Besides, that would take guts to actually show.

And technically they could have afforded to have that guts. That was last movie with Nat anyway. It would actually make this plotline about her feeling guilty about Dreykov's daughter and red in her ledger work. But well... It was last movie so they wanted to leave us with the most goodest and bleeding hartest and heartwarming mary sue version of Nat with just telling us without showing hey, she got dark past.

On the other hand if we had the rumored Endgame plotline of Nat running an orphanage. Damn that would tie to this plotline so well. We could tie the loose widows also. Dam we were robbed here I tell ya >.<

Ok I'm overdoing offtopic about Nat. Sorry

design

So yeah. Design wise Winter Soldier is like great. For Taskmaster, she sure looks cool but also kinda generic? If in 10 years you'd show me her and say it's antagonist from GI Joe or something I'll believe you :S (not touching the debate that in comics something something because unfortunately I don't know Taskmaster from comics. Although I hear that few recent ones were quite good so I'll check them out sooner or later)

snapping out of mind control

I mentioned before. It would be unfair and there is no point comparing main emotional scene of the movie versus means to an end that were repeated several times through a movie.

Natasha freeing Antonia even if she thought that Antonia will kill her because that would fair was great. What I'm annoyed is a cheap fakeout that went with that. It was just after the bombastic finale with explosions and all the cgi shit. Even without looking at the movie runtime it was obvious there will be no extra fight scene.

In catws it worked because the cgi pew pew extravaganza was a background noise and was part of a continuous fight. In BW helicarriers fell already, there was a second of dust settling and then Nat throws away the shield (uses that capsule). Tension just fell from highest place in a movie (quite literally lol), trying to rise it again for such a short moment just doesn't work.

But that's the general problem with Marvel movies. Bombastic CGI fest as grand finale that probably is "outsourced" and then actual director comes back and needs to end movie super quickly.

disappearing act at the end

So in catws there is mystery of what will Bucky do. We are given some hope since he dragged Steve out of river and visited the museum but thats all. I mean there is this annoying Marvel thing of skipping over the interesting ending of last movie and starting with next plot point. We were hoping for the grand roadtrip/hunt for Bucky but nope. We must run ahead with all the plotlines (same way I'm sure that the Spiderman is Peter Parker and he killed a guy thing will be already dealt with in the beginning of the next movie -.-) But that's bonus mini rant.

In BW they needed to wrap up to many plot lines too quickly so Antonia wakes up and that's all. We don't get a suggestion what she may do. The problem of the chip she still has installed is omitted. There is nothing. She just fucks off to lalaland with other Black Widows the end. Because we needed ending for Nat's actual family which was ok but also kinda rushed.

As I mentioned waaaay before (god, this rant is pretty long) too many hoops to jump through.

Which really sucks because if they added that one flashback scene just for Antonia and spared few more minutes for the overall ending it would work so much more better.

And I even know where they could have saved few minutes (besides the explosions thingies). The supply guy. One extra character in a movie with too many characters. In catws the supply problem (with wings) was solved with nbd shrug. If you wanted to show that Nat has her own web of contacts it should be more than one guy. IDK in Budapest there could be 10 second scene with neighbor saying hi nice to see you again we reinforced the walls after last time. In Norway we could see her visiting some special secret supply stash run by some rando before getting to the mobile home.

But oh she was on the run so that would be too many people. Then cut the people entirely. The shitty helicopter can be worked around with joke that I'm not on speaking terms with Stark rn and that's the best we can have on short notice.

Eh.. side rant again. Sorry.

So to wrap it up. I actually really would love to see what will happen with the loose Black Widows and Antonia because here they were really underdeveloped. And while widows were more of a group hero and we have Yelena as a representative so in a way it balances out but Taskmaster needed so little extra care to make her character so much better and I'm a tiiiiiiny bit salty about it.

#text post #long post #very long rant #black widow #black widow spoilers #black widow movie #black widow 2021 #taskmaster #antonia dreykov #i kinda doubt we will see her again #but one can hope #if anyone actually read through all of this congratz!#and thank you #let me hug you #(and I'm sorry it's so long)

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everydayanth · 4 years

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youtube

Having followed the science side of cannabis over the past few years with J working on research teams around the US, this is all shit that NEEDS to be talked about.

The cannabis industry is full of rich ass bros and I have so many stories I don’t even know where to start. As a complete outsider moving with J, I had a front-row seat to confusion and chaos, and as someone who grew up poor in a diverse neighborhood and schools (which I am incredibly thankful for), then studying social science, the sudden immersion into the world of Cannabis was a wakeup call for me. I understood the theory of white privilege, I understood the application of it and how it worked, but there’s an economic component I never had access to. I was on the same free lunch programs and going through the same foreclosure threats as my neighbors, and I didn’t fully understand the racial component of that until I saw it in Cannabis.

When J got dropped into Cannabis research because of a sudden start-up failing to follow its investor requirements working in biotech (it was a big deal, so I’m not going to mention specifics, since we’re still in an odd place with all this), we had moved to the west coast from the midwest where Cannabis was still 100% illegal and problematic. I grew up in the midst of gang wars over drugs, calling it Marijuana (can you hear the white accent?) and being warned about the devil. I’d witnessed several people murdered over Cannabis in my neighborhood through gang violence, or else locked up by police for seemingly no reason.

Cannabis and minority culture were very much intertwined in my mind, and I understood it as a cultural difference from my white religious family, who fought among themselves about alcohol allowance according to God, and respected the law selectively (so the whole “bUt It’S iLlEgAl” argument was a joke).

Cannabis was in the same debate as beers, wines, and liquors, but it still held memories of violence for me. Though I know those incidents were more about power, control, survival, and a means around a racist system now, at the time of moving to the west coast, Cannabis was a duality to me: a misunderstood cultural component, a criminalized tool for a racist agenda, and a thing I saw so many depend on when life got too hard in the way of alcoholics – a thing that would stop me from leaving if I let it too close.

J came into biotech from a pre-med/criminal justice education. He is very well versed in the War on Drugs and the legal history of the US being a racist, white supremacist agenda for cultural, legal, and economic authority through institutions like religion, education, and law. For him, Cannabis and minority cultures, both Mexican and Black American (and, as we learned from friends in southern California, also in many ways Native American) were intertwined as well.

So when his company dropped him into Cannabis, then moved us around several times with unfulfilled promises and broken contracts, both of us were new to Cannabis and astounded at the whiteness of the industry. Of course the white stoners of the 60s and 70s were spearheading it though, they had the money and their minority counterparts were in prison. It’s wrong, it needs to change. But I was naive to be surprised by it.

What really affected me though, was the people with money. They were everywhere in the industry and they were old-money white or upper-middle class converted drug-dealer white. But by all accounts of my and J’s education and experience, it should be a minority-lead industry, right? People whose cultures value the cultivation of the plant should have far more interest, ability, and practical/research knowledge. But they were cut out by the nepotism, money, and white privilege (i.e. criminal justice system).

The science initiative was: analyzing this plant will help us understand the pieces of it and what can be used medicinally or how it is currently helping so many conditions. A great intent, J even got to work with some amazing researchers, but science needs money. So the focus quickly shifted again and again to investors.

And the investors were always white. They were always men. And in my experience, they were genuinely horrible people.

We felt so stuck. Exhausted, our stuff had been in storage for years, contracts were falling through, we never knew where we were going or when. This wasn’t cushy science or higher academia, because universities get federal funding, so they can’t invest in something that’s federally illegal without jumping a lot of hurdles. Additionally, many minorities can’t afford to invest in something that is federally illegal. It’s a bigger risk, a vulnerable position to make your interest known as a minority in the industry – not with the prison and arrest ratio numbers the way they are.

The investors and businessmen were playboys. They talked about bitcoin and big money, went to clubs and cheated on their wives and girlfriends, and tokenized, exoticized, and appropriated minority culture. They invested in research until they made the start-ups worth something with the promise of science, then withdrew their investments and stocks, doubling their fortunes and dissolving the company. Or, as was most often the case, just cutting the research budget after using the science research as an attraction for other investors, and hoping the science guys would quit before they got fired. If they quit, they’d be bound by the do not compete clause and couldn’t use the research with a competing company, which means the current start-up could retain the IP. But they would hang on for long enough to have to be let go, taking their IP and starting again.

They should have started their own lab instead of relying on a company to fund them. But to get a license to work with Cannabis as a plant, as a thing that can’t even cross state lines or be in a lab with out a license/card, you need to qualify by state standards, and generally only the big companies do. So even if they started their own place, they’d have to leave Cannabis, and at that point, they had some incredible research halfway done that could be really meaningful and helpful to a lot of people. Working in several states, the message became clear: this industry is a playground for people with money to make more money and everyone in charge wants to keep it that way.

I’m not in a place yet where I can consolidate my experience as an outsider with an ethnographic distance. I get a pit in my stomach when I think of an investor who took us out to dinner in Seattle. J was working tirelessly, doing 3 people’s jobs because they refused to hire more people despite having the money, he filled in basic hourly positions to compliance and legal staff. They were a small company and continued to make huge mistakes. Going out with investors, we were told, was part of the game, part of the obligation to getting the funds to do the real science.

Working from 6am-10pm and coming in 7-days a week was part of getting a salary at $40k, part of being a scientist and checking experiments and building data and value. Being versatile and filling other roles like marketing and compliance, that you could be held legally accountable for as an individual in some states (J did great though, he was fine), is part of working for a start-up, is part of a new industry, is part of new science! They did everything they could to normalize practices that we didn’t have enough professional experience to identify as wrong, inefficient, or red-flag warnings.

But we learned. And we did make a difference sometimes, changing important minds about the value of Cannabis, the need for federal legalization, decriminalization, and the importance of accountability regarding pharmaceutical corruption. But the investors, oh how I dreaded the word investor.

And this was a big one.

He took us to a restaurant so dark I couldn’t see my food and pushed together fancy dinner-date-for-two tables in a long line to accommodate everyone with the air of someone who was accustomed to fixing everything with money. His son worked in the company and was the reason the guy was investing. My end was the tag-along-SO end, and our discomfort was palpable.

Usually at investor dinners, we ended up paying our own bills because important people would leave sporadically or, I dunno, they were cheap? They’d cover the C-Suite and we’d be left on our own, or, and I really hated this, they’d each order 5 drinks and the most expensive entree and then split the bill evenly, so the poor people like me, who budget their spending, ate an $11 meal with a $6 beer but paid a $60 cut of the whole bill (buy more drinks then, take your share, wealthy peers have yelled before – but then the overall bill is still bigger, so that literally doesn’t help me at all; don’t eat anything then – well, that doesn’t really feel like an option at a big business dinner).

Or, the really shitty one, someone would order a round of drinks, then expect you to get the next round. If this is standard cultural practice where you are, awesome, you have a social agreement, this is not standard here though, and meant actual multi-millionaire investors expected their own hourly employees or $40k salary workers to buy a round of drinks for 5+ people on a regular basis. Do you know how fast that adds up? And, here’s the shitty part, they would start with “you wanna get this round and I’ll get the next?” and then never get the next. EVER! They’d be fall-down drunk or disappear. This happened weekly.

Over and over it happened in a world of overconsumption, privilege, wealth, and the desire to have no worries, party hard, do drugs, yeah! Which, fine, but not when there’s such a power dichotomy and economic disparity. I started to see the tricks, the cons, the advantages, the selfish narcissism, the cheating and taking from others without sharing, giving, or participating in the group. The investors were not part of the group. They didn’t care about the science, they cared about profit margins and knowing when to jump ship with the largest pay off. It got to the point where I (arrogantly, probably) felt like I could screen investors and tell after a single dinner if they were going to scam the program or use the science to get licenses then dump them, or never actually give them the equipment to do their work. There were a few who genuinely cared.

Anyway, this fancy restaurant: we didn’t know who was paying, but I opened the menu and the absolute cheapest thing was a caesar salad for FOURTY-NINE DOLLARS!

But no, we don’t get to order our own food. Fancy investor says we all must try this specific steak because it’s his favorite, one for everyone! Which makes it sound like they’re paying, but I’ve learned you never know. One girl was vegan and I tried to jump on that train to go for the comparatively reasonably priced salad, but alas, decisions had already been made, wine was being poured without question, steaks were being served, and at the end, checks were served down the table in a neat line of leather books, a bill was put in front of the two of us for $250 and my jaw dropped. The server goes “Mr. [Name] has kindly taken care of the wines for the table.” WINES HE ORDERED AND STEAKS HE INSISTED WE EAT! Ugh, I was so confused and angry and sick of the talk and playing nice and making friends. I went to the bathroom and hyperventilated with J texting me that he’s done and we need to find a way out (but remember the IP and non-compete clauses, getting out is hard).

The guy ended up paying for everyone. It was $7,000. I can only assume he wanted us to see the bill and his generosity, or that the CSO said something about people not being able to afford it. Either way, that same story repeats itself over and over: white millionaire man invests in cannabis as quick buck, no interest in science, makes fortune and leaves with no legal retribution.

When J worked with UCI, they tried to press for legal retribution for fraud against a company that had partnered with them, but it didn’t stick because the independent companies have the money, the power, and the law.

It was like living in a reality tv show, in a bubble where the real world happened outside. If you move between places often enough, you don’t fit in either. I tried to stay on the outside, but most of those guys tried to stay on the inside. And on one hand, I get it. They see fast cars, easy money, models and big parties, they grew up white and wealthy without realizing it because they have no context of diversity or poverty, they don’t actually see the harm they cause, they don’t actually care, because all they want is to fit in the bubble. It’s infectious, addictive for them.

And I despised it because being inside the bubble made me physically ill. It wasn’t anthropological fieldwork, it wasn’t removed from my life, I had no safe home base to return to, to think and consider and code notes, this was my life.

Now, we are just about to pass the two-year mark living in RI. It will be the first time we’ve lived anywhere for more than a year since we moved from the midwest almost seven years ago. We’re recovering as a team, as a couple. I’ve gotten more done in the last two years than the 6 before that combined. We got to travel to so many places, and actually meet some amazing people. The companies moved us and paid for housing. There were benefits is what I’m saying, I don’t regret our choices, because I didn’t know what the consequences would be and we made each choice together. We’ve learned so much about each other from the experience. And we survived it together, and I’m proud of us for that.

J ’s all but given up on science now, we left the millionaires to their parties and drugs and alcohol and broken relationships, and I should mention, because I know my tone here may seem dismissive in its generalization, that I learned a lot about stoner cultures and rave cultures and drugs and more about history and criminal justice, and I think there can be a time and place for drugs and alcohol, and that Cannabis should be legalized and fully decriminalized.

What I am fed up with is the wealthy and their context bubble, the investment in their friends, the quick scams that are perfectly legal and make them richer for doing nothing, and the irresponsibility; the avoidance of confrontation, integrity, and honesty, disregarded for a quick buck. Lives left a mess in their wake with no jobs as the company falls apart. For me right now, the Cannabis industry is being lead by people soaked in the slime of deception hoping to make money with the same corporate structures of taking advantage of their workers that their fathers used before them. It is currently a racist, classist industry, sure there are some amazing exceptions, but as a whole, there is a problem with where the money is coming from and going to.

Most of the investors I’ve seen support Trump’s policies (passionately and often because they personally benefit), while the workers adamantly oppose or avoid caring about politics at all. Just because you’re a fanatic about something doesn’t mean you get to stop caring about or considering the impact of what you do or the world outside of it. If you work in Cannabis, know who you are working for and what the impacts of your work are. I have found that, more than any other industry, Cannabis seeks to maintain a status quo in white power, authority, and culture (re: religion, morality, ownership, wealth, cultural institutions, legality, etc.), while retaining the image of being individually diverse, subversive, and rebellious, leading to intense appropriation, exoticization, tokenism, and continual reinforcement of white privilege and classist power.

That’s it. That’s all I’ve got to say on it right now. I’m exhausted. I need to go recharge and find some hope. But I think making people aware of these areas that don’t get seen, because they don’t want to be seen, is part of building hope. People starting to look around and realizing how many millionaires there are, and how easily they make more money this way without social contribution, is part of identifying the problem, and I am eternally grateful to comedians like Hasan Minhaj and Trevor Noah, who look in these dark corners and find a way to make us all look with them, stirring up conversation as we decide what to do about the mess.

#cannabis #cannabis industry #corruption #white privilege #black lives matter #diversity #industry regulation #american capitalism #capitalism corruption #science #research #biotech #culture #anthropology #society #real talk #hasan minhaj #patriot act

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aflawedfashion · 4 years

Note

unpopular opinion: the defiance finale was perfect

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

Thanks, you really wanted to set me off, huh? Ok, I’ll take the bait.

I love Defiance. I do. I would not make this post if I did not love Defiance enough to be this disappointed in it, so here we go...

Ok, so, Defiance was a show about people coming together. Obviously it’s not going to be pretty if you take people from several different planets (the aliens weren’t even all from the same planet), have them fight a a brutal war against each other that nearly destroyed the only planet they have left, and then tell them that it’s now time to play nice and be friends. It’s going to be messy. And that’s ok. There is no story without conflict, and this puts us at the perfect starting point for a whole lot of character development. Love it.

The endgame of the show should have been people finally coming together, but was it that? No, it was about the small group of characters who actually survived this brutal show finding an entire race of aliens that had to be shot off into space because they can’t kill them all, but they’re too dangerous to actually live with. Aliens played by black actors (although they are painted purple and I think the writers actually had good intentions when they created the Omec, you can’t not notice how terrible this turned out.... unless, I guess, you’re the people who wrote this). They were purple people eating aliens.

Other than T’evgin and Kindzi, the Omec never even had a voice, but the entire finale hinges on them. We see in their faces that they probably wouldn’t want to kill everyone if they knew more about the people of Earth, but we never get to see resolution to that. We never see them revolt against Kindzi. They never get to speak for themselves or fight for themselves or learn about the people of Earth. They just start eating everyone because the show wanted the main characters seem justified in shooting them. They’re treated like props.

The show wants Doc and Amanda to be seen as heroes for shooting the evil aliens (it frames them heroically when they do it), while also having Irisa be the hero for saying they should try to save them without ever giving the Omec a proper voice. You can’t do this all in two episodes and call it good. Nolan and Amanda had even stood up for the Omec until the very last moment, until Kindzi raped Nolan, killed her father, caged the people of earth, turned doc yewll into a slave, and ordered her followers to eat their enemies. Nolan and Amanda truly just wanted to do what was right and got hammered into the ground until they didn’t know what else to do. I get where they’re coming from. I get where Irisa’s coming from, but why are we here?

By giving the Omec a voice, there’s an arc to be found in these two episodes, and I can see what the writers were probably going for. I could even pretend I loved this episode and write a meta about the interesting parts of this kind of conflict, but it’s not actually developed in these episodes. They’d need an entire season arc, and I don’t really want that arc. Look, down to the basics, do I think we needed to end Defiance on purple people eating aliens? No. Cut the people eating and rewrite the finale, and the Omec could have been good in the end instead of a pile of shock value tropes stacked on top of each other (I forgot bring up that they were also incestuous). Their power, their status, their history with the Votans can exist without the people eating.

And what really bugs me about this is that there was a far superior finale arc in front of the writers that they left in 3x11 when Kindzi killed T’evgin. The VC were a great villain that had already been established and fit the core narrative of the show. They were scary, they were powerful, and they were a complex threat. We that even everyone in the VC doesn’t all agree, but they’d all level defiance if they needed to. So many potential conflicts here.

Silora Voske. Great character who liked Amanda, and genuinely wanted to make peace with Defiance, but peace with the VC means playing nice with the VC, something Amanda has never wanted. Silora would have shot Amanda in the back of the head if she betrayed her, no matter how good of friends they became. Now she’s dead and Defiance will be blamed. So much potential.

There is no government above Amanda in Defiance. With the United States long gone and the E-Rep’s power only lasting a season, Defiance is free from any larger government or country, and Amanda wants to keep it that way. Unfortunately for her, the VC wants more power, and Defiance is just this little town all on its own trying to swat away every fascist government that tries to take over.

And that’s where the Omec should have come into these last few episodes. We have all these Omec on a spaceship, why make them cannon fodder when you could bring them together with Defiance to fight against a common enemy - an enemy who wanted to divide humans and Votans. It would have made this a story about people coming together, exactly what the show wanted to be in the beginning.

Now for the characters, the reason I love this show, the reason this finale makes me emotionally mad at it on top of being frustrated by the plot.

Nolan and Irisa. They had been wandering around the country for 15 years with this vague goal that one day they’d get to Antarctica. They didn’t even know if it was paradise or not, and honestly, it didn’t really matter because they weren’t really trying to get there. In 15 years, they traveled from Denver to Defiance/St. Louis. That’s not very far. Truthfully, I doubt they ever really tried to get to Antarctica, but getting there wasn’t the point. Everyone needs something to live for, a dream, thoughts of a better future. Antarctica was just a fantasy that gave them a reason to live in a shitty world.

But then they get to Defiance, and Nolan instantly finds a purpose and meets people who give him hope that the world he actually lives in might not be entirely horrible. He tells Irisa that Antarctica’s not real, but Defiance is. They can make a difference here. They can be happy. There’s no more reason to chase after a fantasy. He becomes a better, more hopeful person by finding a reason to get up in the morning and finding people he can believe in.

But... then in the finale, he just gets shot into space and Irisa makes a joke that he’s going to be flirting with alien princesses and getting in trouble. What is this negative character development the show is trying to sell me as a good ending for Nolan? Why are we resetting him to back before he found a purpose? Can male writers really never let go of their Han Solo fantasy from when they were 13, and let these characters grow as they deserve, as they already had?

Nolan spent 3 seasons talking about how he’s a one woman guy, even breaking off a friends with benefits relationship when he realizes he’s in love with Amanda. He thinks Amanda’s into someone else at the time, but he still can’t be with someone else when he’s in love with her, even when his fuck buddy doesn’t care because it’s a meaningless sexual relationship. Nolan doesn’t deserve to be reduced to the guy who drives around and has funny sexual escapades (and although I’m sure he’s had a few funny one night stands in his life, he had sex with three women in three seasons, and all relationships lasted more than one episode, note: I will not count rape in this total, so why are they trying to sell me on the idea that funny sexual escapades are a defining characteristic of his?)

Nolan deserved to find actual, real, attainable happiness with Amanda and his daughter, not get tossed into space away from the people he loves on some writer’s dumbass teenage Han Solo fantasy.

And Amanda, the love of both Nolan’s life and mine, she has been emotionally destroyed by the show, and very nearly physically destroyed as well. The writers wanted her to die a martyr, and only backed out of it when they realized there was no one qualified to be mayor in season 4, and they finally realized that killing all your characters for shock value actually has consequences. She deserved better than that.

Before the end of the finale, she thought Nolan would come back because he always did. She had hope for herself and for him. They were going to be be together and be happy. She deserved to be happy. And then in the final lines of the series, Irisa says Amanda thinks Nolan is dead. Where’s her hope? Why did the writers take that from her? Amanda is the person who made everyone want to be better. She gave people hope when they had none. Amanda represented the possibility that all these people could live together, and the writers wanted her to die while she was shooting aliens. They wanted to kill the person who represented the hope that humans and aliens could live together, and yeah, that pretty much sums up the finale.

And they don’t kill her. Instead, they just leave her sad, alone in her office, and without hope.

Thanks.

I hate it.

This episode pieces together a bunch of action, drama, and emotional moments to make you feel a lot of things as you watch it, but it’s not good on any deeper level. It betrayed everything I loved about this show, so I hate this finale.

#lochley #aff watches defiance #sorry this is long and I rambled a lot and should probably edit it more #you probably didn't ask for this #but well #here's my feelings #not sure I even covered everything lol #actually pretty sure I didn't #i have a strange dislike of the idea of irisa/alak being romantic but that's just a ship I'm not that into that didn't actually happen #not that huge of a deal #but still didn't like that they were setting that up #i dislike it more than I would expect... idk... i just don't want them together #that's a footnote of a complaint compared to everything else

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kennedycatherine · 4 years

Text

things may be shitty but sometimes I'm shittier

I’m overheard retelling half a joke my friends have heard 30 times over. One of the greats in my rotating stock of five.

“Wait, what’s this about?” Asks someones boyfriend and I lean on an elbow, angle myself toward him with a grin.

“It’s actually a really funny story.”

His girlfriend rolls her eyes, “it’s not funny.”

My eyebrows go up, in, “I think it’s funny?”

“Kennedy,” she begins and looks at me with even eyes, “it makes people uncomfortable.”

She says it like a mother warning her toddler not to pull his pants off in front of the dinner guests, not again. And I feel a lot like he might;

Defiant - it is a funny story, I’ve done the math on which details can stay in, which have to go out, I know where to pause for a laugh or a sigh. He’d probably like it.

Ashamed - it probably isn’t funny to everyone, perhaps my math was just enough to keep people engaged, the pauses great for a sympathy laugh. He probably wouldn’t like it.

“Another time,” he whispers with a soft, consoling smile and I silently curse his girlfriend.

Fuck you, Kierstan, you don’t know the first thing about comedic timing.

The story in question is about the time I found my sister cold and unconscious. I thought she was dead. The punchline about my being in a pink velour costume when the EMT’s arrived and the bit about the stolen laffy taffy, oh and her not being dead - fully worth the undeniable emotional lows.

Believe me when I say that in some circles, it’s a funny story. There are branches of comedy, Netflix specials, peoples entire careers and livelihoods that are rooted in dark comedy - there is a vast market for illuminating and lightening the horrifying. Also trust me when I say I know how deeply unfunny it is to watch someone you love overdose.

The story is funny now. A few years ago it wasn’t. It was a nearly unspeakable thing. An experience that happened and it wasn’t funny.

But life goes on.

You have no choice.

Around the time of the pink velour tracksuit and the laffy taffy, I found myself laughing uncontrollably at my desk. I’d just left the job I’d gone to college for and found myself in the pit of broken dreams - an 8 to 5 desk job. The absolute thrill of it all - somedays you might file, somedays you might answer a few more calls than usual. Somedays your boss might ask you to bend over and pick up his pencil while you wear the skirt it was gently (but firmly) implied was mandatory. Mandatory only in the sense that no one could tell you that you couldn’t wear pants but they sure were more forgiving of car naps running 15 minutes over if they could glimpse a knee.

And boy, did I need the car naps.

It’s funny because I thought I was doing great. Really, for awhile I thought I was the best I’d ever been. I was laughing pretty much all the time, at everything. I’d never found the world more funny. By all accounts, I was having a great time.

So imagine my surprise when one day I found my eyes full, my face damp and my car hurdling down the highway past the exit to my work. When I did arrive, this time with pants, therefor low forgiveness - I was asked to my boss’ office for a closed door meeting.

Why was I late?

Somehow telling my boss that I wasn’t exactly sure the reason but my brain was telling me I should just keep driving, maybe to the next town, maybe for hours, maybe until the border, didn’t really seem like an option. “I think I have the flu.”

Despite all the things I didn’t know, I did know I didn’t have the flu. I found myself laid out in my doctors office anyway.

When he finally threw the door open, all white coated and anxious, just like I like em’ - I sat up. We made a sort of frenzied eye contact and he asked me what was wrong.

“I think I might be, like, totally fucking losing it.”

I left with a plan and antidepressants.

It all sounds kind of simple and quaint.

But it wasn’t.

Stopping to consider if you’re a danger to yourself or anyone else so your doctor can qualify if you need counselling, pills, maybe a psychiatric hold isn’t charming. Those first few weeks of pills, even though you’ve been told and you know you’ll feel worse for awhile, they’re simply awful. This isn’t some beautiful woman on HBO popping a white pill with her chardonnay, suddenly noticing a pink bloom on her neglected cactus. This is ugly and painful before it’s anything else.

And slowly it did become “anything else” … most of the time.

Depression isn’t a joke. But it is a static way of being that loses it’s edge.

It softens. Like a shitty haircut, you come to expect the blunt, harsh edges. Your body adjusts to the sight of it. It’s still kind of scary to look at but you know what to expect.

Life goes on.

It’s just not precious anymore.

I could barely say I’d been diagnosed. I only told the people who were close enough to see the new medication was wearing me out. Now it’s an introductory fact, “Hi, Kennedy Catherine, daughter, lover, lesbian, writer, major depressive disorder.”

I felt for a long time like it was all behind me. The worst was over! Family, outside of some trick hearts, healthy. Depression, diagnosed, plans made, helpful medications on standby. Experiencing another dark episode seemed dull, ya know? Just a tad fucking redundant. Been there, done it, bored by it.

Then: March 2020.

There was a period of limbo. I still had a job, I just couldn’t be there or do it until things got better - hardy har. I packed up my truck and settled into my families cabin for five or six weeks. It was fine, I was fine, I thought. One day I went out for a walk and awhile later watched my sister rumble through a long stretch of prairie toward me on an ATV. My phone was dead and I’d be gone, oh, three hours longer than expected?

“What happened?”

I just kind of… lost track of time? Lost my sense of direction? I don’t know, I thought. I was here but I sort of went away from myself for a second. When I sunk into the bath later with achy muscles and a blister, I felt nervous.

Now, I haven’t scared myself in years. My depression isn’t so severe that I feel unsafe with myself. Anything I did or have done to effectively terrify myself, I shed by the time I was 20. Because that can happen, you can do that. You can change coping mechanisms and learn real, healthy ways to parent yourself. The mood instability that came later, the dark times, I still felt mostly fortified. I felt like I could figure it out, like I still had access to myself to do the figuring out.

But I could feel myself slipping away this time.

I was talking fast about something or another when I finally said to my mom, “I think I might need help.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I meant because I didn’t really know how to help myself and I wasn’t really sure what was wrong.

And that in and of itself is a problem. I didn’t know what was wrong?

I was out of the job that got me out of bed Monday to Friday for three and a half years, I left the house that had become my comfort cathedral, I hadn’t seen any of my closest friends in months, I was living with my sister and my mother who I hadn’t spent longer than a handful of days with in like five years. There was global fear and uncertainty and the risk of contracting a virus that could or could not kill you but I didn’t know… what was wrong? Well that’s just deeply moronic.

Sometimes when you need help, or when I need help, that does come in the form of professional counselling or medications or an anonymous support group. Sometimes, it’s just circumstantial and circumstances can change.

I went home.

And in a few weeks, when I’d more or less returned to myself, I could clearly see the hills and valleys my mind had just wandered. I felt strength again, a sense of renewal and excitement about my imminent return to work and society.

Then I actually lost my job.

I know, redundant. I’m tired of myself too. But bullshit is cyclical, that’s just a fact.

And if there is one thing I’ll give myself credit for, it’s my ability to immediately concoct a backup plan in the face of a threat. Moments after I was officially terminated, texts and emails went out. The idea of not knowing where my next paycheque would come from and how much it would be, having lost the place I strolled into everyday with a sense of purpose and not knowing when and where I’d have that again was simply not an option.

My head went down, I narrowed focus and the efforts resulted in… enough. I’m living. Which wasn’t and isn’t the hope for life. Unstable stagnancy is deeply uncomfortable.

So, generally speaking, things are not great.

I lost my humbly secure job. A place I comfortably could’ve lived and died if I’d prioritized everything other than work and my sort of crippling ambition. This effectively led me down the path of questioning every decision I’ve made past the age of 16. First and foremost, choosing radio. An industry that was at it’s peak in the 1930’s and on the decline ever since was perhaps not the most lucrative or secure of career choices.

My romantic life developed far enough to remind me that often times I am a crusty, avoidant crustacean human and suddenly all those popular tweets about my deep emotional inabilities and intimacy issues seemed, well, not that funny.

I decided I probably shouldn’t drink. I don’t have a drinking problem but I do have a problem with drinking. Namely, waking with no memory, my legs shaking and my stomach clenched so tightly I could sense my body wanted to flee - itself, mostly. And let’s not forget the part where I get fighty and mean.

When shit hit the fan and then shot off the blades into the face of life in my early twenties, it wasn’t my fault. To be clear, mental health is a no fault area. I was always predisposed to depression, mental illness is genetic. I had no control over that. But there were plenty of variables, extenuating circumstances if you will, that I also had no control over but sure as fuck could and did blame other people for.

This is not the same thing.

This is a moment where it is necessary to discern illness from circumstance and living from coping.

Like I said, bullshit is cyclical. And it this point, it’s pretty much just my own bullshit on repeat, forever and ever amen. At twenty or twenty three, when the circumstances weren’t my fault, it also felt like my reactions weren’t my fault. I was floundering, I didn’t know better. I learned some hard lessons about how I cope and handle things. I learned that I didn’t really like the person I was when I was figuring out how to survive myself and life.

I was unkind, a lot.

I hated the way that felt, I hated the way it affected my relationships and decided to learn from it.

Except, I didn’t learn. I said, great, noted. Dashed a nice little ~fini!~ at the end of that chapter, closed er’ on up and bypassed the bookshelf for the dusty box in the corner labelled, “garage sale.” Because surely no one would need to read that again!

And then a few weeks ago when I had a breakthrough in counselling, I dug that chapter back up and allowed myself a few days of surprise. Bitch, you been done knew the WHOLE time. This isn’t news, this isn’t shocking. This is the part of you that developed somewhere along the way and it didn’t work and you didn’t like it but! But. It was comfortable. So you gave it a few years and then when things fell out of control again, let it settle back in all warm and snuggly.

You know what they say. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I guess I need to financially prioritize a CBT therapist.

So here I am, again.

Only this time feels deeply, deeply different. Because it’s not the first.

I sat down with a friend to tell her how I was feeling. How much I felt like I needed and wanted to change my default settings.

I need a factory restore.

“I think you’re being hard on yourself.”

No, no, I have grace for myself! I actually have a lot of understanding. I’m parenting myself through this which includes showing myself love while I also discipline.

“I just feel like maybe you were doing the best you knew how.”

Well, I mean, sure? Sometimes? But there were moments where I knew I was saying or doing the wrong thing, where I was even challenged by someone else but I wasn’t challenging myself, you know?

“Well maybe that’s just who you are?”

Right… but this is also who I am? And we do actually have a say in that, you know? Like how I evolved from throwing toddler tantrums on the grocery store floor? I could actually just keep doing that, no one is stopping me, but I don’t.

“I think you’re being self deprecating and that is not healthy.”

Since when is self identifying a problem self deprecation?

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

… but change is hard?

I appreciate that people want to protect me from myself or from bad feeling or whatever they perceive that all to be. More often than not, I think they, we, you, I, we’re all just trying to protect ourselves. But it’s not helpful. Pretending that everything is fine and that we’re fine and adopting an overarching, “I am perfect as I am, namas-fucking-te” mantra isn’t actually helpful.

What’s the harm in me saying I have been shitty? That I have acted poorly? That I have neglected to be better when there was clearly a different option? That I wasn’t honestly showing myself to people when I could’ve or allowing them space in me?

That it’s… not nice? That just like the joke about my sister not being dead, it’s not comfortable to listen to? It’s true and it is compassionate to view yourself as a whole, to know yourself and think I actually do like myself and this life enough to want to be better.

Just like what is coined the unfortunate evening of Velour and Ambulances or the depression diagnosis or life being turned on it’s head by a plague sent from hell, once it was deeply painful and then it wasn’t. None of this is precious. Being a shitty person sometimes isn’t a rare affliction. You’ve been shitty before, you’ll do it again, I’ll do it again, hey, you might even be shitty right now! Isn’t that something?

Things are not great right now. They’ve been not great tens of times before. Only this time it isn’t taking me 2 to 4 years to talk and laugh about it. Because this is a muscle, the shit muscle and it’s exercised. It’s buff.

And you know what? Things could be worse. They could even get worse now! I’m hoping they don’t but they certainly could, and in the thick of it, we’ll always have that glimmering possibility to hold onto.

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unibrowzz · 4 years

Text

My 2020 reviews

All the cool kids were doing these so now I finally dragged my ass into doing them too lmao.

Albania- Fall from the Sky

A song I swear cursed this whole contest from the moment it won Festivali i Këngës. Like with the shitshow this song caused I just knew the whole year was fucked. With half the fandom whining they didn’t get their first club song of the year to the other half smugly shoving it as their winner despite no other songs being around to compare it to, the whole fiasco just left me knowing that 2020 would end in tears, just hopefully not my own. As for the song, it’s lame. It’s a standard ballad with OBSCENE amounts of autotune, which is weird because the girl can actually sing pretty decently without it, so why they decided to make her sound like a damn computer is beyond me. And WHY did they translate it, haven't the past few years proven that Albania's better off leaving their songs in Albanian?

Armenia- Chains on You

A bootleg Ariana Grande song, and a really shit one at that. The kind of song only people who think being young, gay and mean counts as having a personality would say is good.

Australia- Don’t Break Me

One of the few decent Australian entries (but that REALLY isn’t saying much coming from me, I barely care they’re in the contest by this point) but marred by a horribly untidy performance and lacklustre lyrics. At least it’s not fucking pop-opera, that’s all I can say. I’d rather listen to the sound of my face being dragged down the runway at Heathrow airport than be subjected to another Zero Gravity.

Austria- Alive

One of those pseudo-jazz dance songs, á la Olly Murs or Bruno Mars (I swear there’s a song like this in every recent contest). I mean, it’s good, but it’s just kinda meh since I’m kinda getting tired of this genre rearing its fedora-wearing head every time a new lineup rolls in.

Azerbaijan- Cleopatra

One of the “better” trashy entries this year, comprised of about five different musical genres, six ancient cultures being appropriated and absolutely zero class. Probably sounds at least 50% better when you’re absolutely steaming drunk and face down on the floor in the middle of a gay bar.

Belarus- Da Vidna

Somehow, this song sounds both very unique and original yet trite and average at the same time. I couldn’t decide whether listening to it was a new experience or if I’d heard it a million times before.

Belgium- Release Me

A song which just drones on till it ends. I would say it’s ripping off the song that won last year, but it forgot that having a chorus stops your song from being three minutes of snooze.

Bulgaria- Tears Getting Sober

A typical breathy mumble-girl song, AKA a genre I can’t fucking stand. Really don’t see the hype with this one, the melody is pretty but the vocals are out for lunch and it’s otherwise completely and utterly boring.

Croatia- Divlji Vjetre

One of the token big dramatic ballads you listen to once, enjoy, then forget about until Darius in the Discord server plays it one night whilst you’re hitting up the radio bot with requests. You’ll find that “nice, but forgettable” is a common theme for this year.

Cyprus- Running

Ironically Cyprus didn’t send a crappy Fuego knockoff for 2020, and I say ironically because a crappy Fuego knockoff would’ve actually stood out this year, and I say crappy because honestly Fuego wasn’t even all that great to begin with. "Running” itself is just one of those edgy tortured soul pop songs which, let’s be honest, would have been paired with an impressive performance which would’ve overshadowed how bland it is. Kind of like “You’re the Only One”. Or even Fuego for that matter.

Czech Republic- Kemama

Standard Afro-pop, a genre we don't often see at the contest so I'll let it pass. I feel like this is the kind of song that’s infinitely better live, and that it would’ve been one of those songs that suddenly became a frontrunner after the semi finals, but I guess we’ll never know eh?

Denmark- Yes

The quintessential mid-10s Eurovision song. It's got guitars, happy people, Scandinavian origins… it’s just a typical radio guitar song, nothing special.

Estonia- What Love Is

I mean it's better than La Forza. Granted, the sound of someone pissing directly onto a microphone installed in the bowl of a toilet would sound better than La Forza but still. Going back to this song, it’s just... a standard Eastern-ballad with some very desperate lyrics. It feels kind of outdated, if I’m honest. Like something about this just reeks of 2011.

Finland- Looking Back

Yet another dreary, forgettable ballad. It comes to something when the best song they COULD have sent was a party song which sounded like it was from the mid 90s. At least that song was memorable. That said, this one at least has some decent lyrics. Bravo for that I guess.

France- Mon Alliée

France decides to say “fuck it” to being an underground fan-favourite and takes a leaf out of the UKs book by sending the same rent-a-Swede schlock they’ve been sending since 2015. I’m just confused as to why anyone in their right mind would choose to follow the UKs example but you do you France.

Germany- Violent Thing

A rehash of Sweden's entry from two years ago, but this time sung by Justin Bieber circa 2008. Kind of alright if you can stomach the singer's whiny voice, but otherwise pretty dull and kinda forgettable.

Greece- Superg!rl

Hello fellow kidz, we are hearing you like the girl power? The super heroes? The t3xt $p3ech? We made you song, please give us the votes *dabs*

Georgia- Take me as I Am

I mean… this sure is a choice. This feels like one of those songs that everyone memes on because the lyrics are kinda janky and the singer’s voice (and accent) take a bit of getting used to, but other than that it’s just one of those NQ songs for hipster fans to declare as their unironic winner at a later date. All in all this just feels like the male equivalent of one of those mid-10s fat acceptance women’s songs, only a lot shoutier and this time he has more flaws than not being skinny.

Iceland- Think About Things

A bootleg George Ezra song, performed by a load of disinterested tumblr users in their pyjamas. Because if there’s one thing that sells me on a song, it’s being given the evils by a bunch of nerds who look like they’ll send me death threats for not agreeing with their Pokémon headcanons. To be fair, the song is kind of groovy since it sounds so 70s, but the performance is very off-putting to people who aren’t in the Eurovision loop. And also people who are, because I sure as Hell don’t see the appeal in this myself and this whole performance just feels like Save Your Kisses for Me without the charm. I feel like this would’ve come second or third, definitely with a lot of televotes but either the jury would’ve dragged it down or it wouldn’t have scored enough televotes to win.

Ireland- Story of my Life

A song that’s at LEAST ten years out of date by this point, think like an early Katy Perry, Jessie J or Avril Lavigne song. I’ll forgive it because even though it sounds like it should’ve been entered in 2013 (at the latest), it at least evokes some nostalgic memories of shitty school discos and holiday parks.

Israel- Feker Libi

The female equivalent of the Czech song. Unsurprisingly, people went wild for it when it was released. I guess only women are allowed to sing Afro-pop at this contest. Like with the Czech song, I’ll forgive it since Afro-pop is a cool genre anyway, and even though this is just another club song I can at least see myself dancing to it.

Italy- Fai Rumore

Well, at least my wish of “Italy sends a typical power ballad devoid of anything the mainstream fandom likes” finally came true. It was pretty refreshing to have a year where people weren’t shoving Italy’s entry up my nose left right and centre. In terms of my actual thoughts I can’t deny that the guy has a tremendous voice, but for some reason the song just doesn’t… click with me. I guess I like my male Italian singers a little more gruff and raspy, if you know what I mean. They gotta sound like they smoke at LEAST five packets of cigarettes a day for me to take notice.

Malta- All of my Love

Listen I am 100% rooting for Destiny Chukunyere to win this contest some day but man was this song a disappointment. It feels so… un-special and generic, like it gets the job done and that’s it. It’s not the stand-up-and-belt-it-out soul anthem I’d hoped for, it’s just… there.

Moldova- Prison

All I remember about this song is that it vaguely reminds me of that one Meccano song about the gypsy who makes a deal with the moon or something. And I’ve TRIED to remember more about what it sounds like, trust me.

Latvia- Still Breathing

The one horrible weird song you get every year which overuses strobe effects to the point it comes with an epilepsy warning. Would be bearable if it wasn't for the singer’s insistence that this is actually some feminist masterpiece when it's really just a self-empowerment club song about the singer fingerbanging herself over the fact she writes music.

Lithuania- On Fire

One of the songs everyone thought was going to win at one point, even though it seems like a surefire non-qualifier to me. It’s one of those weird entries, but not the kind of over the top, batshit insane, you’d-have-to-be-drunk-to-enjoy-it weird, the kind of subdued surreal weird. Like this is weed instead of LSD or cocaine weird. Granted my mom, who I consider to be a "typical" Eurofan, actually really liked this song when she saw it in the recaps, so who knows maybe this would have done well with televoters after all.

Netherlands- Grow

I appreciate this song for how artsy and clever it is with its structure, since it starts off acapella and the instrumental builds up with the song until it stops suddenly, symbolising a person’s growth from a child into an adult, and ending suddenly with their death (Geddit? The song’s called “Grow”). But it feels like the kind of song that would be lost on a Eurovision audience. The juries would have taken note, for sure, but the televote… let’s be honest, they’d have been too busy drunk voting for Russia to care about anything else.

North Macedonia- You

Well, it's better than the miserable dirge they sent last year, but given how I'd rather pleasure myself with a steak knife than listen to that song, that really isn't saying much. Going back to “You”, it really just feels like a diet version of Switzerland’s entry from last year, combined with Sweden’s song from 2018. What I’m saying is it’s your average “I’m a man in a club and I want to dance with and probably fuck this hot girl I just met” song, which I a new genre I just made up. You’re welcome.

Norway- Attention

One of those songs you appreciate because it sounds nice and the singer has a good voice, but instantly forget because it’s really not all that interesting. If I sound like I'm repeating myself, welcome to Eurovision 2020.

Poland- Empires

“Rise Like a Phoenix” but sung by a wannabe Adele and not a mascara-wearing Jesus in a dress. Like a lot of other songs on this list, it’s just average across the board, likeable when it’s on, but instantly forgettable as soon as the next song comes on.

Portugal: Medo de Sentir

Pretty, but also similar to their ill-fated 2018 entry, only with a bit more energy and less pink hair. What I’m saying is this would have been another NQ unless the crowd who enjoy subtle ambience music come in to save it like they did with Slovenia's entry last year.

Romania- Alcohol You

See Bulgaria, because this is practically the same song. It’s just as dreary, just as badly sung (if not worse because holy shit this girl sounds like she’s being suffocated), and I suppose you COULD excuse that by saying she’s drunk or hungover… but I don’t want to listen to someone ungracefully mumble into a microphone for three minutes.

Russia- Uno

A classic big camp party song, the kind of song people who haven’t watched Eurovision since 2003 think wins on the regular. I can see why people would like it (especially in this boring year lmao, I applaud Russia for taking the opportunity to loosen their corset and just send a complete mess instead of their usual clinical vote grabs), but it’s just not something I enjoy. It's the song that plays into the misconception that Eurovision is just a clown show for drunk people, like this is just here to be that one flash-in-the-pan meme song that only entertains people who don’t really care about Eurovision until the day before it airs. Kind of like the old ladies they sent in 2012 (remember them?).

San Marino- Freaky!

San Marino, in true Sammarinese fashion, have yet again sent a decade-ambiguous song which sounds like it was either released in 1978 or 2003. I feel like this would have been one of those songs which could have surprised us if it had a really wacky, creative performance (think like Moldova in 2018), but this is San Marino so you know that would never happen.

Serbia- Hasta la Vista

Insert unoriginal joke about a decade wanting their shitty trend back right here. Okay maybe that’s a bit harsh, especially considering how this song is actually, yanno, unique in comparison to the rest of this year. But it still feels weirdly dated, in a way where I can’t decide whether it sounds like it belongs in 1998 or 2018. I suppose girl power ages a song regardless of when it was released.

Slovenia- Voda

Yet another standard Balkan-European power ballad which you appreciate because it’s well sung, but forget the moment it ends because it’s kinda boring. … Does anyone else have a bit of deja vu?

Spain- Universo

For some reason I feel like this song is shilling itself out to someone but I have no idea who. Aside from the horny people voting solely because the singer is moderately attractive even with that wretched Jedward haircut.

Sweden- Move

Imagine soul but… boring.

Switzerland- Répondez Moi

Imagine Arcade but… in French.

United Kingdom- My last Breath

Not the best the UK could have done, but it’s at least a modern offering unlike the residual dregs of the mid-90s that we sent throughout the 2010s. It’s definitely a bit too generic to have done any better than maybe 15th, but hey at least the cancellation means we won’t have to see it not do as well as the BBC thinks it’s entitled to do, prompting a billion clickbait articles about how Brexit somehow affected our performance.

Ukraine- Solovey

At long last we come to something you probably weren't expecting: a song I actually really like. Which is weird because I usually don't care for or don't like whatever Ukraine vomits into the contest, so I was pleasantly surprised to find a song I liked from them in such a weak year. This song isn’t for everyone, it’s white noise singing which is a very acquired taste, but this is honestly the only 2020 song I find myself coming back to over and over. And it’s in Ukrainian too, so you don’t have to put up with their usual mangled English offerings.

#and that conclude's the mods thoughts lmao #eurovision #if this is good i might do this with other years let me know what you think #mod speaks #mod reviews

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cockbiteproductions · 4 years

Note

multiples of 8, except in the misc section. all even numbers for the misc section

200: My crush’s name is: well well well this question again. you’re not getting anything out of me!!! they fucking use this website!!!

192: I am allergic to: nothing. but i found out like yesterday not everyone gets dermatographia and im kinda annoyed. what do you mean your skin doesnt get red and puffy the moment you touch it......

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox solely because of ah

176: Last YouTube video watched: my watch history says this, which is a scene from a show called billions. this scene in particular is about my favorite character asking about their introduction scene with their former mentor figure that they quickly outranked and asking why they were picked for the internship that lead them down this [entire shitpath].

168: Luck: [long sigh]. [puts on clown makeup].

[obi wan voice] im my experience there’s no such thing as luck.

[rian voice] luck? there’s probability plausibility and actuality. luck is superstition. luck is lazy math. [winston voice] that’s what i always say.

160: Soul mates: again souls arent real..... nor do i believe that people are “meant for each other” on any sort of cosmic/larger level. you are more compatible with people based on your upbringing and your interests and your values and those are adaptable over time though some people are so different that they will never get along and other people match/complement each other incredibly well.

152: Phone or Online: lmaoooo this questionnaire once again showing its age. throwback to when these things weren’t synonymous. online for sure. what am i gonna do with a phone? talk to someone with my fucking voice? i think not.

144: Oranges or Apples: to eat by themselves? probably apples since they are easier and less of a mess. and apples are more consistently better than oranges. oranges, it’s easy to get a batch that just sucks. juiced? probably orange. i love me some fuckin orange juice. but i like apple cider more than orange juice.

136: Hillary or Obama: lmaoooo again.. the age of this. 2008 or 2012. going to guess 2008. obama but not like. enthusiastically. while he was certainly better than [what we got going on now] he still bombed the hell outta some countries......

128: Manicure or Pedicure: ive never had either but i would probably be more comfortable with a manicure. people touching my feet would make me ticklish.

120: Gay Marriage: the only type that should be allowed. sorry straights youre no longer allowed to get married. /s obviously.

112: Facebook: oh BOY are you fucking ready. are you???? im starting the readmore NOW because this is going to be something. i doubt anyone except robots maybe will actually read my deranged pro-privacy anti-facebook/social media/surveillance rant but im angry every time i think about it and if i were a more important person than a rando on the internet with a keyboard im sure facebook would hire someone to kill me one day.

FUCK FACEBOOK. FUCK THAT SHITTY ASS WEBSITE THAT AT EVERY TURN HAS BEEN REVEALED TO HAVE HORRIFYING PRACTICES OF DATA COLLECTION.

but before that, they need to pay some goddamn fucking taxes. they are profiting off the data of billions of people and getting away with paying SO LITTLE back.

you ever hear about deepface? no this is not the beginning of a prequel meme. deepface is facebook’s facial recognition technology and facial recognition is fucking terrifying. that shit is as good as humans at facial recognition at this point. does that not scare you? that a bunch of computers can figure out if this photo contains you or not? it’s one thing if humans recognize each other, but another thing when computers who can process data almost infinitely faster than humans can are able to do it. the scale and speed at which these fucking nightmares operates is hard for us to imagine and so we are all not scared enough of what they can do. this kind of technology is so deeply privacy violating it’s hard for me to stress it enough. every image of you ever uploaded on the internet could possibly be put through facial recognition tech. and with the fact that there are cameras literally everywhere at all times now at this point it’s so fucking possible that if desired, someone could find out where you are at all times. and that gets SO scary when used by governments. are you comfortable with your government knowing where YOU are at all times? yes? what about if tomorrow your government is overthrown by a group of radicals you completely disagree with? you still comfortable with that? facial recognition is kind of a fucking pandoras box that we are opening and now that we have the technology available to us, unless we actively take steps back from it, it WILL eventually/already is being used in malicious, intensely privacy invasive ways.

and everything in that above bullet point goes for ALL DATA COLLECTED ON YOU, EVER. everything you’ve ever said on facebook is probably put through some multi layered neural network fucking robot who is learning how to understand what humans say on your input and also cataloging things about you as a person. it is doing SO MUCH more than reading the exact text of what you are saying and then picking up on keywords. neural networks are an attempt to copy how humans think by making an artificial version of a brain basically. in simple terms it’s a map of points and connections and you feed it data for a while and tell it what the desired outcome should be. it will adjust those connections and the weight of those points based on your data and expected outcome. that change in connections and weights is how it learns. then after a while it has fed on enough data that it will begin to expect what your desired outcome is. now imagine millions and millions of connections and points. it’s fucking huge. you ever hear about how we don’t know how machine learning/deep learning/neural networks works? this is that. it’s because they are so large and they have changed their weights and points so much that we no longer understand how it makes its decisions. ml is on a deeper level starting to understand what you mean when you say words. like a human. and can pick up nuances humans cannot because of its perfect memory. do you understand how scary this is? do you? i really do not know how to express this better how absolutely buckshit wild and terrifying the idea that everything i say online can be scraped and put through a robot and a profile on me and who i am and my ideals can be gathered almost instantly. how hard would it be to write a scraper that goes to my blog and grabs the text of every post in my talk tag? and then there’s free and open source nlp software (or you can pay for it) and you can feed in everything ive said on this blog ever. you can go to my facebook. you can go to my twitter. you can find my profiles on every online platform ive ever used and take everything ive ever said and determine what kind of person i am based on that. and then you can then make further distinctions based on that data. (sidenote: facebook wouldnt have to scrape the data on my profile, it’s all in their databases already. they have everything ive ever posted on public or private, on my old profile i’ve deactivated, every photo ive posted or been tagged in, everything ive ever uploaded to their servers or have been associated with.) and someone or robot can make decisions about me based on that data. it could just be am i likely to buy [this product] or it could be something much more like am i a threat? am i dangerous to you, the person using this data about me? what are my politics? what are my views on [this topic]? are they too extreme? should i be denied [real life thing] based on what this machine has determined about me from my data online? not to sound fucking crazy, but you ever watch that episode of black mirror? nosedive? and its system where you can rate interactions with people? how this one girl was trying to increase her ranking so she would qualify for a cheaper price on housing? how we’re already starting to see things like this in real life with china’s social credit system?

call me a fucking wack job but i think it’s so deeply creepy that we have digitized so many aspects of our lives and leave machines we no longer understand how they make their decisions to analyze every bit of data about ourselves.

by the fucking way facebook tracks data on people WHO DO NOT USE FACEBOOK. FACEBOOK TRACKS DATA ON PEOPLE. WHO. DO. NOT. USE. FACEBOOK. are you scared? i am.

i’ve been thinking about this tweet from @/malwaretech on twitter from a few days ago. text: On a serious note, social media tracking is more extensive than you may think. For example: those Facebook 'like' buttons you see on every website? They call home. If you're logged into your FB account, it records that you visited that web page, even if you don't click 'like'. doesn’t that sound a lil fucked up to anyone else? that facebook knows that i visited that webpage even though i did not tell it? that it will use that data to build a better profile on what my interests are and that it will use that data to better sell ads to me? i’ll be honest i am unsure of if facebook sells that information to other vendors. i think that might be not allowed but i wouldn’t be surprised if that data somehow got into the hands of people who arent facebook.

the fact that for the longest time you could NOT get your data deleted from facebook? that even if you deactivated your account facebook would still keep all of that in their shit ass servers forever? as far as i know, that’s changed now, but i would not at all be surprised if the next day it was revealed that facebook was Actually Keeping all that info anyways

the fact that by default facebook’s privacy settings are set to allow anyone to see most info about you? just this whole opt out culture is so fucking wack. it should be opt in. your privacy settings should default on the MOST PRIVATE and it should be up to you to ACTIVELY SEARCH OUT how to change them to public. it is ON FACEBOOK to actively cultivate privacy but of fucking course they don’t.

lmao cambridge analytica politics russia brexit trump. i don’t have the energy to even open this fucking can of worms but i will say that again, another layer of deeply fucked up that political campaigns can use that data to try to coerce or influence elections.

do you remember when in 2019. yes twenty. fucking. nineteen. 2019. two thousand and nineteen. 2019. i dont know how more to stress how recent but late this is. 2019. facebook admitted that it and instagram were still. STILL. STILL. S T I L L. storing passwords as plaintext? meaning your password that is “password123ilovedogs” is stored AS “password123ilovedogs” in their database. it is STANDARD AND EXPECTED PRACTICE that websites store SECURE hashes of passwords (not like fucking. md5 or something) meaning you do a bunch of fucking “irreversible” math on the password and store that instead of the actual password itself. so the db would be storing “298!79v@w8W#R;3,f9jf” instead of your actual password. anyways face. fucking. book. was storing passwords as plain text. which means if they ever have a data breach on their passwords db then all that data inside will just be your actual goddamn password. your actual goddamn password. what the fuck? what the fuck? and we still use this website? we? me? i use this website daily? i use this website on a daily fucking basis and allow it to continue to collect information on me? im so goddamn angry.

the fact that now in this day and age you are considered weird for not having any social media? super fucked up. the fact that employers will check your social media and if you don’t have one that is somehow a red flag? weird as hell. why must we participate in the world’s largest data collection scandal ever just to be a member of society? i cannot choose to opt out. facebook collects data on me even if i do not have an account. society expects me to have some form of social media and if i do not then that i am the weird one for it. if you choose to live a life of trying not to be tracked it is almost impossible. can you live your life in modern society without an email address? without a smartphone or laptop? there is an expectation that every person is available to communicate with digitally and if you find the practice of data collection abhorrent and don’t want to use websites that do so, then you’re the weird one who has a LOT of society’s services unavailable to you.

im not going to even touch on the psychological effects that facebook and social media have on people other than to ONCE AGAIN, say they are very real and deeply fucked up.

by the way check out haveibeenpwned. enter your email and it’ll check against databases to see if your email has been on recent dumps. i have been. lately there have been a few older accounts of mine that have been breached and it’s terrifying.

fuck jesse eisenberg man he fucked over spiderman crazy

fuck faang. fuck big tech. fuck data collection. btw edward snowden is a hero. fuck all of this.

104: The future: man we’re in for it. i am not optimistic about it at all. too much tech progression / not enough foresight / expansion/globalization of the world / global warming / political and economic issues are all coming to a head to make the world a fucking disaster.

96: Changed a diaper: never done it! i am not around children often.

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: having a vague idea of where things are locally. im very bad with directions.

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: answered already.

84: People call me: yeesa, apparently. i have a fair amount of nicknames but i just call myself teresa.

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: sure haven’t though i deserve one

80: The first person i talked to today was: soph because she wakes up at a normal goddamn time so i’ll sometimes have a text from her from a few hrs ago

76: Right now I am talking to: milo and a discord server im in for a group of friends i made when i was applying to college. though i havent responded in quite a while since i went on my angry facebook rant.

74: I have/will get a job: well i HAD a job for the beginning of the summer when i was a TA but i do not any more as that was first summer semester only. hopefully in the fall i’ll have a job as a TA again but who knows. and then after that when i graduate i hope hope hope hope hope i will have a job lined up.

72: Today: woke up. made a plum smoothie. played minecraft. took a nap. here i am. it’s all very riveting.

70: Next Weekend: it’ll happen for sure. odds are i will be waking up and eating food and coming on the internet and chatting with friends and doing a bit of writing and trying to learn a bit more html.

68: The worst sound in the world: answered already.

66: People that make you happy: will roland lmao.

64: My friends are: well it’s basically the same people i tagged in my last post on people who make me happy.

62: My School: you tryin to doxx me? it’s alright. not the best for my major. and also stupidly trying to reopen for the fall because theyre greedy and idiots. it was like my 5th choice school but it is what it is.....

60: I lose all respect for people who: already answered

58: Your hair color is: black as fuck. im east asian.

56: Favorite web site: controversial but archive of our own dot org i guess. i believe in their mission and like how they have advocated for fans and have created a fan-owned space on the internet. they’re not perfect but i overall support them.

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: answered already

52: My room is: a time capsule of what i liked in late middle school/early high school.

50: Where would you like to be: im fine where i am. maybe visiting friends though. i would like to Hang With Them and Do Fun Activities.

48: Ever been in love: who’s to say....... what is love? (baby don’t hurt me). but for real the concept of love is weird to me, especially romantic love. i don’t know. i’ve certainly obsessed over people. i’ve noticed i kind of “pick people” to have crushes on. i can’t really say why. but then it creates a feedback loop of i pay more attention to them -> i think more about them -> i like them more. so i’ve made conscious decisions that have lead to me obsessing over people.

46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl but that’s just because people in fandom spaces tend to be women and most of my friends ive made through fandom.

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: kaity is coming to my town but we cant see each other because of a pandemic so im kinda fucking miffed about that. i didn’t get to see maria before she left my state so i’m also miffed about that.

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: lmaooooo no. i would just like to be satisfied with my life. would like to see friends. do fun things with them.

40: Last person I got mad at: idk im not generally a mad person. mark zuckerberg probably.

38: I wish I was a professional: as in i suddenly have all the skills and talent needed to be a professional? i think a director &|| writer tbh. i would love to have the Creative Vision necessary to come up with dope ideas AND translate what i have in mind into real life. i would love the ability to be able to tell compelling stories that mean a lot to people.

32: Athlete: lmao if it was 2008 or 2012 i would ahve said ryan lochte but nevermind. idk. maybe katie ledecky.

24: Movie: am not much one for movies...... star trek 2009.

16: Book: i don’t know how to read.

8: Yankee candle scent: idk about yankee candle specifically but i love the smell of apple.

#not rt #teresa answers stuff #Anonymous

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Outside Influences ch.3

Summary: Oh, right, Rus and Edge have a chance to remember that they actually don’t like each other very much.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Off-Screen Attempted Sexual Assault, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Aftermath of Violence, Pre-Spicyhoney, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, Aftermath of Attempted Sexual Assault

Notes: Why am I still writing this? Maybe because Rus needed a chance to show his teeth.

Please read the warnings on this one!!

Chapter One | Chapter Two

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge was still awake some hours later when he heard his brother return in a rattle of door locks. Unlike his counterparts, Red was less prone to shortcutting his way around the Underground. Neither of them could afford for Red to ever be low on magic if it could be helped and one opportunity to teleport could mean the difference between dusting and more lives than their own.

A glance at the bed confirmed that Rus was sleeping peacefully enough now. Too pale yet, the normally warm tint his magic brought to his bones absent. What little was visible, anyway. He was wrapped up in the blankets, smothered into them with only his skull showing. Those unsettling whimpers had eased some time ago and he was safer in Edge’s bedroom than nearly any other place in Underfell. With that in mind, Edge rose silently to his feet, prowling downstairs to demand more answers from his brother.

Red was still at the door, for once kicking off his snowy shoes on the mat, meltwater spreading in a darkening puddle around them.

“hey, boss,” Red grumbled. He stripped off his damp jacket and beneath Edge’s watchful gaze, reluctantly hung it in the closet. “shitty fucking weather, storm’s blowin’ up. that’ll keep everyone inside, anyway, less trouble for a while.”

“What did you find?”

“eh, everythin’ll hold ‘till the storm’s over. the traps looked good, dogs are safe at their stations and—”

Edge interrupted him before he could build up too much steam. “If you’re going to insist upon this dance every time I ask a question about him, I am quickly going to lose patience and I will take it out on you.”

It was not an idle threat and his brother knew it well. The rest of the Underground did not know the real level of Red’s strength, concealed beneath the reality of his lazier nature. It was a charade they’d been playing together for years and those who discovered the truth were not ones destined to survive long after. But for him to best Edge in a fight required effort that Red rarely liked to put forth. That Red still hesitated was telling, weighing consequences as he scratched the back of skull, "bro, i don't know-"

"Tell me," Edge ground out. Frustrating as it was for Rus to be keeping secrets, that at least was understandable. Red kept enough from him, far too much. He wasn’t going to tolerate it this time.

Finally, Red stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "lot more marrow on the inside of his sweatshirt than the outside. he definitely had some broken bones before he healed up, and—"

"Brother."

Red blew out an irritated breath, and his teeth scraped as he ground them together. How rare was it these days to witness Red trying feebly to protect him.

His words were short, clipped and sullen, "can't say whether the dried jizz inside his shorts was his or not. don't matter though, pretty sure his dick wasn't in agreement with his head about what happened." He waited, watching critically until Edge gave a curt nod, gesturing impatiently for him to continue. "found some short brown hairs on his clothes, too, and unless rus is sprouting pubes that he hasn’t mentioned, they gotta belong to another monster."

“That narrows things down.”

“a little, yeah. gotta say, i’m glad it wasn’t scales, only a few monsters that could be, but—” The red glare of his brother’s eye lights strayed, widening as they flicked higher and Edge turned to see Rus standing unsteadily in the open doorway of his bedroom, looking down at them. Whatever vulnerability had been leaking through the cracks earlier was shut down, tightened into coldness.

“if you’re done talking about me, can i come down?” Rus asked. The acid in his tone was belied by the way he wrapped his arms around himself, cupped his elbows in his hands as he hunched in.

There was no telling how much he'd overheard. From that closed off irritation, Edge was guessing it was enough.

Well, fuck.

"heya, honey bun," Red said easily. He picked at his teeth with a sharp fingertip, idly inspecting the findings before wiping it on his shorts. "your clothes ain't done yet."

"that's fine, i was gonna burn them, anyway.”

"uh huh," Red let out a deliberate yawn, showing sharp teeth as he stretched with exaggerated enthusiasm, “welp, i could use some sleep. catch ya later.”

"you couldn't catch a cold." Dismissively. Normally a mistake for Red, he was never one to ignore. But his brother only slanted a glance his way and Edge could read that darkly amused look easily. This was his problem to deal with and Red vanished with a pop of teleportation, a rare indulgence so that he wouldn’t have to walk past Rus, who was making his way downstairs with stumbling, furious determination.

Wonderful.

“if you can loan me a pair of boots, i’ll head home,” Rus said shortly. Never mind that he was only wearing a pair of Edge’s pajamas, that even with boots, it was cold enough right now that simply walking from the house to the machine in the basement might sicken him in the condition he was in. He was already shaking a little with the effort of getting down the stairs.

When Edge Checked him, Rus winced, barely keeping from cringing away from the unwanted prickle of it washing over him.

“Your magic is still very low.” It was tempting to lay a hand on Rus’s shoulder, try to guide him to the sofa to sit down so he could be wrapped up again in blankets. But there was something about the sofa that Rus shied away from it the night before, and the only other option would be to push him to the floor. Neither choice seemed promising. Edge was forced to leave him standing with his toes curling away from the chilly carpet and swaying as though a stiff breeze would send him to his knees.

“yeah, well, thanks for the reminder, but i can take care of myself.” It was incongruous, Rus standing there shivering, drained pale of magic, and ready to demand he be allowed to stagger home through a storm. Even his eye lights flickered, almost sputtering. Rest was good and well but he needed to eat. “appearances might beg to differ, but i actually don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

Edge only raise a brow bone at him, holding his gaze steadily. Rus looked away first, drawing in a quick breath, releasing it. What he attempted next was something like reluctant gratitude, "look, i appreciate everything, i do. but i don't need you two going around behind by back, fucking things up."

Sweat was starting to sheen his skull and Rus swayed on his feet, but he jerked back when Edge reached for him. Edge muttered a foul word beneath his breath and stalked away, hoping that Rus at least had enough sense not to try his luck at leaving barefoot. In his state, he probably wouldn’t be able to get through the door locks. He hadn’t moved by the time Edge returned, only stared in confusion as Edge set a chair from the kitchen table next to him.

“Sit,” Edge commanded. For a moment, he thought Rus wouldn’t. That he’d rather fall to the floor, wallowing in surly defiance. Finally, he all but flung himself into the chair, drawing his knees up to rest his feet on the seat. The quilt was still on the floor by the sofa and Edge snatched it up, shaking it briskly before draping it around Rus’s shoulders.

“I might have agreed you didn’t need a babysitter, except you’re acting childish, so I might well be wrong,” Edge said sharply. He could see the anger simmering in those flickering eye lights and it wasn’t necessarily all for him. Rus was probably angry at the world right now. Best to attempt something a little gentler. “If you feel ready to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“won’t stop me?” Rus laughed and it was bitter. “wow, you’ve really gone all in on this mighty protector bullshit.”

“I won’t stop you,” Edge repeated doggedly. “And you haven’t asked for my opinion, but I think you should stay. You’re obviously still weak and you need more to eat than one cookie.” More to the point, Edge wanted him to stay. It didn’t sit well with him for Rus to go back to Underswap without enough magic to defend himself, especially not knowing who had hurt him. Not yet.

It was somehow the wrong thing to say, as it so often was with Rus. The same kind of slipup that ended in arguments on movie nights, with the others watching with varying degrees of annoyance and sardonic amusement as he and Rus squabbled.

All of Rus’s emotions were crammed into ball of sullen resentment and anger, with nowhere to aim it but at Edge. “i got my ass handed to me, okay, i was kinda fucked up. but i’m not weak!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Edge kept his voice calm. His fault, he reminded himself. Allowing Rus to overhear his need-to-know had broken that fragile trust, barely built before toppling. And there was most likely plenty going on in Rus’s skull that had nothing to do with Edge, leaving him touchy as hell, ready to lash out at anything that pricked. “And needing to be safe to recover doesn’t make you weak. Otherwise every Monster in my Snowdin would qualify.”

“i’m not from your snowdin, and mine’s a little less dust hungry.” The sneer against Underfell was a familiar one. The uncertain tremor beneath it was not.

“No, you’re not,” Edge said, softly, “But I still want you to be safe.”

That contemptuous veneer was not as steady as Rus might prefer, faltering into confusion, fear, before shifting into something different, his sockets hooded as he looked Edge up and down. That gaze was predatory in a way that was strangely discomfiting. Edge knew the hungry gaze of Monsters who succumbed to their LV; Rus’s was too similar by far.

"yeah? that's it, huh, you want me to be safe, and that’s it? safe for you?” His mouth curved into a smirk, the bright flicker of his tongue visible behind his teeth. “don’t worry, sweetheart, i’m as safe as you’re gonna get."

“What--?” Edge broke off in confusion as Rus slipped to his feet. The languid way he held his body made him seem oddly graceful. Deliberately, Rus let the quilt slither down to the floor, leaving only the soft pajamas clinging to his bones. It was oddly distracting, didn’t give Edge a chance to back away as Rus curved a hand behind skull, holding him as he swooped in to press their mouths together. Pure shock stopped him from pulling away at first. He kept his teeth shut against the sly flick of Rus's tongue, pressed coaxingly, sliding wetly against Edge’s closed mouth.

Edge’s uniform left his spine exposed, deliberately so, no loose material to grab and it was a false vulnerability that had fooled more than one attacker. Only now it left him open to Rus’s clever fingers, his hand curving around his spine to skim knowingly over the bones and cartilage, teasing out flashes of unwanted pleasure and that was enough to wake Edge from his frozen shock.

He tore away, barely resisting the urge to shove Rus violently back, even as he fought the pulse of his own arousal, dizzying and unexpected. His own restraint was vanishingly low, worn by lack of sleep and the frustrated anger at all of this, and he very nearly raised an attack.

“You—” he broke off, too furious to even form words.

But his anger faded as he caught sight of Rus's face, the angry desperation obvious behind his smirk, "what? you wanted to take the lead? c’mon then, let’s head out to the dance floor. or back up to your room, the bed’s more comfortable."

Edge exhaled shakily, clinging to his self-control. "Don't," he said firmly. "Don't act like it's about…that."

He couldn’t say it wasn’t about sex, not without knowing what Rus had been through. But it definitely wasn’t about whatever Rus was trying to offer.

A harsh laugh, Rus’s eye lights raking down Edge’s body. "trying to say you don't want it?"

Not one minute ago, he would have been able to unequivocally say yes. Before he'd distractedly licked his teeth and tasted the unexpected sweetness left behind, before he’d felt Rus pressed tight against him, his hands teasing, his mouth offering silent promises. But Rus was far too good at reading expressions to try for a lie.

Another truth, then.

He set his hands on Rus’s shoulders and that smirk widened. Only to falter as Edge pushed him firmly back into the chair, gathering up the quilt to wrap around him again.

"I didn't help you so I could try to fuck you," Edge said, bluntly. “If that was my plan, there were certainly easier ways to go about it, don’t you think?”

That sullen anger was crumbling away, sockets too wide as Rus looked up at Edge. It made him seem startlingly vulnerable and whatever defenses Rus usually kept up were badly formed, leaving behind only tired confusion. "then why? i don't get it. i don’t understand why you want me to stay. why’re you helping me at all, you don’t even like me.”

And Edge didn’t know how to explain it to him, not if Rus didn’t understand. It wasn’t about liking, nor was it anything to do with his friendship with Blue. He considered it for a moment, taking the time to allow his roused magic to settle.

Slowly, piecing the words together as carefully as he’d solve a puzzle, “If I came to your home and I was hurt, would you turn me away?”

Rus blinked up at him and there, finally, dawning realization. If Rus hadn’t been so exhausted, so very hurt, he likely would have drawn the right conclusion on his own. But all his normal cocky confidence had briefly been beaten out of him and there was no faulting him for not being able to think straight when he could barely stand.

There was still a lingering hint of confusion, but Rus shook his head and whispered, “no. i wouldn’t.”

“Then please allow me to be at least as decent as you are.”

That dry statement earned him a startled laugh. “yeah, i guess i can manage that. okay.”

“Okay,” Edge repeated, softly. “Now, are you going to let me feed you.”

“my decency only goes so far.” Rus drew up a leg, resting his chin on his knee. “if you’re gonna keep insisting on feeding me, i’ll take it.”

“Then come on.”

He didn’t trust Rus’s legs to carry him all the way to the kitchen, and his distrust was proven when Rus only sighed wearily, struggling to his feet with what dwindling strength he had left.

“sorry,” Rus muttered, his head ducked low, eye lights on the floor.

“For what?” Edge countered. “Do you want my help?”

His nod was reluctant, embarrassed.

Edge slid an arm around him, careful to keep his hands from anywhere inappropriate. He still ended up half-carrying Rus to the kitchen, allowed him to sink into one of the other chairs with a relieved sigh. Rus fumbled to gather the quilt close again and Edge let him, allowed him to wrap himself back up in the soft folds.

“Let’s see,” Edge murmured, mostly to himself as he opened the fridge, perusing the contents thoughtfully. It was closer to lunch than breakfast and while Rus needed something to eat, his magic was likely unsettled. Something light and easy to manage would be best. There was a container of broth leftover from making dumplings a few nights before, and a couple eggs left in the door. Edge pulled out all of it, setting it on the counter. He set a pan on the burner and poured in the broth to heat. "Have you spoken with your brother?"

"yep."

Rus didn’t elaborate and Edge sighed, stirring the broth. “I would apologize for what you overheard when I was speaking with Red, but it would be a lie.” He heard Rus inhale sharply, but when he didn’t protest, Edge went on. “I won’t pressure you to speak about what happened. But I will admit I sent my brother looking for information. Evidence gets destroyed quickly in a place with weather as unstable as Snowdin, and if it was necessary, I didn’t want it to get lost.”

“that’s not a bad line of bullshit, you should stick with that one,” Rus said. “’cause, see, you don’t need evidence.” From the corner of his eye, Edge saw him shiver, a bare whisper as he said, “i already told you, they didn’t rape me.”

Edge cracked an egg into the hot broth, stirring it so it cooked in long threads. “Do you think because you weren’t raped, that what happened was in any way acceptable and shouldn’t be punished?”

But whatever openness had briefly shown itself closed off tight and Rus only muttered, “maybe i don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then we won’t,’ Edge agreed mildly. He let Rus retreat into silence, concentrating on the soup. He ladled out a small bowlful, enough to test Rus’s tolerance for food without making him worry about wasting it. Set it in front of him and watched as Rus fumbled for the spoon.

He ate it in small, steamy bites, and when it was finished, he gave Edge a small smile, “please sir, can i have some more?”

Edge let a smile of his own show, calling back as he took the bowl to the stove, “Luckily for you, I’m kinder than any Dickens story.”

“you are.” Quietly, from behind him.

He kept his expression placid, encouraging Rus to keep eating, and hiding the cold thoughts growing at the back of his mind. Red was the evidence seeker, but this time Edge was the one who found useful information, all packaged into a single word.

They.

The proximity alarms cut off that line of thought and Edge frowned, pulling out his phone to check the cameras. With the storm rising, there weren’t any Monsters he could think of that would try to either visit or attack right now. He squinted as the staticky picture came clear, sockets going wide as it showed him Blue staggering through the harsh winds, headed for the front door.

“I thought you said you talked to your brother?” Edge snapped. He shoved the phone towards Rus, showing him his brother’s determined approach.

But Rus seemed as surprised as he was, the spoon falling from his hand. He looked stricken, a faint flush of agitated magic rising in his cheek bones. “i did. i never told him i was here, just that i’d be back soon.”

Edge exhaled slowly and nodded. “Stay here.”

He left Rus in the kitchen, door carefully closed as he made his way to the front door to start on the locks. With any luck, he could deal with this quickly and send Blue back to Underswap, but he had his doubts.

Luck was in short supply in all the ‘verses lately, it seemed.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Four

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #please read the warnings

54 notes · View notes

jon-astronaut · 5 years

Text

not a hero

I have been seeing too much of the “Steve will die next season protecting Dustin” theories and I was inspired to write this little thing so here you go. Yes, I cried writing this. Yes, I love pain.

*****

not a hero

It’s a little over than a year later when the same shit show happens.

Steve grabs his bat, the one he so terribly missed in the summer of ’85, and curses under his breath to their luck.

He doesn’t understand the science side of things. He is not even sure anybody understands at this point-not even the genius, nerd kids. So he is quite confused as to why they have to do this over and over again in some sort of cycle.

He doesn’t say it out loud though. He just marches into battle like he had done in the Byers house with Nancy and Jonathan in ’83 or at the junkyard with Dustin, Max and Lucas in ’84 or in the Russian base where he attacked the guard and later crashed a car in ’85.

Dustin is right by his side like always. The kid, he is a teen now but whatever Steve needs to keep his authority, is the brains. He makes the plans, he shows them the way and Steve just follows.

Robin, his age-appropriate best friend, is right by his side too. She is both the brains and the muscles. She makes some parts of the plan and fights along side of Steve.

Erica, a literal kid he befriended, is with them too. She might be smarter than Dustin, Steve thinks but doesn’t say. She gets them out of trouble and keeps them moving.

Every little group gets together. They exchange their stories and try to understand the big picture. Piece by piece they plot out a plan. Everyone has their own tasks.

It takes a few hours and Steve takes more than a few hits to his face but it’s almost over.

Some of the groups are already back together but the threat is still there. This new kind of monster they are facing almost looks like a human.

They hear noises again and everybody goes on full alert mode. Steve and Robin pulls Erica and Dustin behind them. Lucas, Max and Will clutches together with Jonathan next to them. Eleven is somewhere else using her powers and Mike is, obviously, with her and Nancy too.

The "real adults” are on their own mission so the most adult person in the room is Steve. He is in nowhere qualified to be a real adult but he knows he needs to be; he knows everybody there is his responsibility.

A monster barges to them and everybody spreads away. Robin drags Erica by the arm. Dustin runs to the other side. Lucas is pulls his slingshot. Jonathan has his axe. Max and Will backs up. Steve holds his bat tight.

Lucas hits the monster. Steve and Jonathan swing their weapons of choice. It looks like they are going to win.

Steve makes a head count. He knows Erica is safe with Robin. Before the monster gets to Max and Will it needs to go through Steve, Jonathan and Lucas so that’s not going to happen. Steve and Jonathan are between Lucas and the monster so he is relatively safe too. Steve can make sure the monster doesn’t touch Jonathan.

Dustin…He frantically searches for the curly haired boy and spots him across them by his hat. That stupid hat.

It’s that moment Steve sees another monster approaching to Dustin. He shares a look with Jonathan and runs away hoping Byers could deal with that previous monster.

Dustin is practically his best friend, like the little brother he never had. Dustin found him heartbroken and dragged him into chasing demo dogs. He patched Steve up with colorful band-aids after he lost a fight and cheered on Steve a year later when he won a fight. Dustin was the one person that got happy for Steve when he graduated and even when he got that shitty job at Scoops Ahoy. He still hangs out with Steve though he doesn't need Steve and his bat. The shit head is so smart and so curious; he made Steve get a library card just because he needed to check out more books. Dustin has the biggest heart. He never shows how sad he truly is, he never hurts his friends.

If you die, I die; echoed in Steve’s brain.

Dustin is Steve’s responsibility maybe his first responsibility. It doesn’t matter if the younger boy is smarter, more resourceful than Steve. It doesn’t matter if Steve says “Germans?” and Dustin corrects him saying “Nazis.”. It doesn’t matter if Dustin has his life more together than Steve. Steve was the older one, the protector or as everyone liked to call "the mom”. Hell, he knows he acts like a mom with all his ordering and driving the little shits around and letting them crash into his house and cooking for them.

So Steve pushes a startled Dustin back causing him to almost fall to the ground. He swings his bat but he is slower than usual. It doesn’t do the damage he intends to.

He tries to swing the bat again, ignoring his heart beating in his ears and the fear growing inside him.

But it’s too late.

The monster jumps on him. His bat falls to the ground. Next thing he knows he is on the ground too looking up at the face of the demogorgon that had been in his nightmares for the past three years.

Dustin is in his vision now. He is about to run to the older boy and Steve tries to scream and tell him to go hide but he can’t get the words out of his mouth. Thankfully, Erica escapes from Robin’s grasp and stops Dustin.

Erica, is too wise for her age and deals with too much for her age.

Steve hears a few shouts. Jonathan and Lucas takes down the other monster but Steve knows they won’t be making next to him in time. Will and Max are already next to Dustin.

Robin somehow finds a gun. She starts shooting at the demogorgon. Robin gets closer and Steve is barely holding on.

Before he goes, he just needs to know everybody else makes it out alive. A few seconds later the demogorgon flies away. Steve, with his half-shot eyes, sees El approaching to them. Steve wishes he had the chance to know the girl better.

The next five seconds feels like a good ten minutes to Steve.

He always thought “the life flashing before your eyes” was too cheesy and not true. Like in many things, he is gravely mistaken.

His mom making him pancakes. Rolling up a joint with Tommy H. Everybody in school watching Steve. The teary look on a freshman’s face when King Steve makes fun of him. Nancy Wheeler and her sweet smile. Nancy slapping him. Him realizing the jerk he is. Seeing the demo gorgon. Running back inside. Jonathan throwing the lighter. Draining the pool in his house. Driving Nancy to school. Bullshit. Dustin grabbing the roses in his hands. Giving Dustin advice. Protecting the kids time and time again. A plate to his head. Driving Dustin and the little shits around everyday. Dustin getting him a radio for his birthday. The party trying to teach him D&D. Dustin beaming when Steve agrees to have a special handshake with him. His father saying how much of a disappointment he is. Robin and her white board. Winning his first fight. Robin coming out to him. The vomit and blood on his stupid uniform as they laugh. Going to Hopper’s funeral. Max smiling for the first time in weeks when Steve buys her a new skateboard. Driving around with Robin as she sings at the top of her lungs. Giving Dustin driving lessons. Babysitting Erica and getting schooled by her. The party teaching him what Ewoks are.

He wishes the images were only the good ones. But that’s life for you. At least he has enough good memories to balance out the bad and the traumatic ones.

Maybe he should start using past tense. He is almost slipping away after all.

It’s okay. Dustin will miss him terribly and probably blame himself but he has the party. Robin will lose her confidant but she has Dustin and Erica. The kids have each other. Nancy and Jonathan have each other.

It’s not like he is a key piece in all these battles. He is not Hopper. They can all go on with their monster fighting and regular lives just fine.

He is pushing only 21 but it’s really okay. He feels like he lived a life three times longer than that. He went from being a nice kid to a stupid teenager who had his head far up his ass to surrounding himself with better people and apologizing to adopting a bunch of kids to befriending the coolest band geek and getting a dead end job. He did all these while fighting to save the world from inter dimensional monsters too.

He wasn’t a hero, though. He was just a regular person who found himself in the middle of action and tried doing his best which meant swinging a nail cladded bat and occasionally punching the bad guys.

It’s a good finish to his life. His life wasn't going anywhere : that’s a fact. He would have been stuck in Hawkins his whole life (not being good enough for anywhere else) probably becoming broke after refusing to work for his father. Everybody else’s lives are going somewhere though. Dustin is too smart for this old town. He will probably go off to a top university and become a mad scientist and maybe even marry Suzie somewhere in the future.

Steve wishes he could be there to see it all. He is pretty sure Dustin wouldn’t take that hat off in his graduation or his wedding.

Steve sees a mop of curly hair running to him, screaming his name.

He drifts off before Dustin reaches him.

He knows this is exactly what a big brother should be like.

He knows at least his last two years and his death had a meaning.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley

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isobel-thorm · 5 years

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All for Grant. >:3c

1) How do they respond to having a song stuck in their head? Does that happen to them often? “Oh God, not that one again” then begrudgingly play it til its out of his head.

2) How do they feel about confronting their friends when issues arise? He’ll only confront them if the situation turns absolutely dire/Grant thinks the friendship is on the brink of disintegrating. He’ll try to keep his own feelings close to his chest if he thinks it’ll lead to a confrontation.

3) When speaking to themselves in their mind, how do they refer to themselves? “You” and a buncha self-deprecating or self-preserving adjectives.

4) Do they enjoy wearing socks/stockings when they aren’t wearing shoes? Not really. Socks get annoying after a while.

5) Do they have any unappealing habits (ex: picking their nose, hawking loogies)? Does nearly nonstop self-hate count?

6) How do they cope with losing a game? Shrug it off and move on

7) How do they cope with losing an argument? Same as the last answer

8) How do they cope with losing a friend? Fuck him up entirely. Losing one if they part ways after a fight is right up there with losing his friends in that skirmish, so a lot of anger/grief goes internal and he either shuts down or turns the blame on himself.

9) How do they cope with losing a lover? Not as upset about losing a friend, but close. It takes him a while to decide he’s even worthy of love, so it’s an outlook of “they’re better off without me.”

10) Do they enjoy sitting on countertops? I wouldn’t say “enjoy” but he does if the place he’s in is cramped and the space allows for it.

11) How expressive is their face? Are they easy to read? Not very expressive/he usually keeps a neutral face, but he expresses himself a lot via expressions, so when he does react to something, a little goes a long way.

12) How do they deal with experiencing physical pain? He’s got a high pain threshold, so he basically just rolls with it.

13) Are they easily insulted? Not at all

14) Would they prefer to act or react? Depends on the situation. In general, react, if there’s an emergency or someone is in danger, then definitely act first.

15) How would they respond to performing on stage? The only way to get him up on a stage would be if you had to administer medical attention on a flat surface while he was unconscious. Can’t respond to being up there if you go out of your way to never get on a stage.

16) Would they ever wear perfume or cologne? When? What would the scent be? He’s not a cologne guy in the least.

17) Could their personality or interests be considered “flighty?” Do they change their mind/interests often? Not at all. He’s got a small handful of interests that never really change/suit him just fine, so he’s happy with them.

18) Do they daydream? Of what? All of the “what if”s if his life hadn’t gone to shit.

19) What is the most inappropriate thing they have ever done in public? Decked a guy in passing for poking fun at an injured homeless vet. It was an emotional day for him to begin with, and it’s not ‘inappropriate’ per se, but he’s still not entirely thrilled he did something that escalated that quickly.

20) What was their favorite toy as a child? Little He-Man figures that his uncles got him.

21) What was their favorite way to play as a child (ex: playing pretend, playing games with rules like tag,)? Playing pretend, though usually it was basically only half a game, because he’d pretend to be a rancher/cowboy in the Old West while helping out at his uncles’ farm.

22) How do the sneeze (ex: loudly, quietly, openly, into their elbow, hold the sneeze in)? Tries to be as quiet as possible, into his arm

23) When engaged in an irritating conversation, how to they conduct themselves? Lots of smiling and nodding.

24) What words make them cringe? “Purpose” , “square” (in a ‘town square’ sense), “guilt”

25) How do they feel in large crowds? Fairly comfortable, though the soldier in him is constantly noting how many exits are around/what have you in case of an emergency where he has to get people out.

26) Would they ever spend an afternoon in a library? What section would they spend the most time in? He probably wouldn’t, but if he had to, probably any place with the comfiest chairs.

27) Do they find it difficult to try new foods? Not at all, he’s willing to try new things right off the bat.

28) If a friend asked them to taste something and it turned out to be unpleasant, how would they handle it? Not let them see him struggle with it, keep his face/voice as pleasant as possible. He’d rather die than hurt their feelings. And he’d wait a few minutes/at least a couple of it’s a quick cooking process and make ‘harmless suggestions’ to try and improve the dish - but deliver the suggestions so blase so it doesn’t seem like he’s actively correcting them and they think it’s mostly their personal change, ie: “Oh, that could use... I don’t know, little something for an extra little kick” “Hmm. Oh, I could add more sugar, even out some of the bitterness!” “Perfect!”

29) Do they wear underwear? 100% of the time, yes

30) Can they pee in front of other people? Only people he’s close to/has known for years.

31) What story gave them nightmares as a child? When his parents talked about getting promotions and the like - which meant less time for him, so he’d dream about them leaving him somewhere/forgetting him/being all alone etc.

32) How would they respond to being handed an infant? Absolutely petrified. He would hate it, fear that he’s tainting the kid and try to hand them off to someone else the first chance they got. He’d definitely have to have someone right there next to him to reassure him that he’s being really good with them. Which is a crime because most babies usually immediately love him.

33) How would they respond to being asked to watch over a child for an afternoon? “Uuuuhhh is there.... someone... else? More qualified?”

34) Do they enjoy climbing trees? No. Doesn’t really see the point.

35) In which of their own skill sets do they have the most confidence? Why? Threat assessment while referring to people, because it’s what he was good at in the Army.

36) Do they enjoy receiving compliments? How do they respond to it? Laugh it off and be super dismissive about it. “Thanks, but not really.”

37) How often are they the one to initiate physical contact? Not very often. He’s got to be in a rare affectionate mood to initiate. If someone else initiates he’d be happy to go along with it, though.

38) Do they prefer salty or sweet things? Sweet

39) Do they get the urge to jump from high places? ... ... You all know the angsty direction I could take this which is ABSOLUTELY true, but for now I’ll say no and be lying through my teeth.

40) Have they every written a dirty letter and actually sent it? Not at all. Dirty communication of any kind isn’t his forte.

41) How would they describe their love life? “Non-existent and loving it” (John or Matthew walk by) “... ... Okay so that was an outright lie and I’m happy.”

42) How would they describe their sex life? “Not bad” - he borders on ace so it doesn’t happen much, which he’s absolutely fine with.

43) Do they hide objects? What and where? He doesn’t hide any objects. He figures he hides enough of his personal life, why add more things to the list?

44) What are their reasons for getting up in the morning (outside of achieving their main goal)? Again there’s a very heavy, very true, very angsty answer that I could go with, but for now - he doesn’t want to disappoint and/or worry Nic, John or Matthew, so he’ll get up for them, then genuinely enjoy the day just because he gets to spend time with them.

45) Who is their greatest confidant? Who confides in them? Nic. She was the first one in years to not pry into his life with annoying, over-asked questions. She didn’t constantly give him pitying looks either. She treated him like a regular person and let him come to her with details about his life, so she earned his trust and friendship, and that gives her confidant status. And it’s mutual for that reason.

46) What is something they’ve always wanted to do, but know they shouldn’t? Tell off his parents for being shitty people. He could, but there’s already been so much damage between them and done to himself he’s afraid he’d rip apart what shreds of a relationship they have left.

47) Is there someone whose laugh makes them laugh as well? Nic again, John on occasion, Whitehorse, Matthew

48) How festive are they on holidays? Depends on who he’s with. If he’s alone, he’ll be vaguely festive. Put him with Nic, or whichever boyfriend he has depending on the Universe, or his family he does have a good relationship with: “Hell yeah, give me that ugly sweater, Hell yeah I’ll help you with the ham, Hell yeah I’ll play Santa for the kids.”

49) How would they respond to their ears ringing for an extended period of time? Would drive him absolutely bonkers and he’ll try any trick in the book to make it stop.

50) How likely is it that they would be the first to point out a full moon or a beautiful sunset? He wouldn’t be the first to point it out but he’d be the first to notice it.

#Deputy Grant #Sad sad sad neutral sad ANGST neutral CHRISTMAS #is exactly how these answers go #amistrio

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likeanemployee · 5 years

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In Regard to Ozpin: theories thoughts and BS

I’ve been thinking about Ozpin’s role in volume 6 again and quite frankly it’s probably the only true issue I have with this volume. For 3 volumes now we’ve been playing the maybe Ozpin isn’t really the good guy game and while I know some people have bought into that the first and only time his action weren’t at the very least understandable (and I’d go so far as to say completely justifiable) was when he up and disappeared this season.

If I’m honest I don’t think the decision to do that was based at all on character personality but on plot they wanted/needed Ozpin to not be around constantly providing answers. For example the apathy arc. You could probably do something like they did with Maria, with Ozpin if he were around where he forgot/didn’t immediately recognize the signs of the apathy and then they started to effect him too but I for one would have found it less believable. Maria has excuses like old age and that she’s been out of the game by comparison Ozpin should have plenty of knowledge, experience, and lets be honest paranoia to recognize something like that had he been present. A second example is the airship arc while I would be willing to believe Cordovin would have denied them regardless of any sort of input from Ozpin I also feel like he should really have some code words and pre-established plans in case of something like this or at the very least have some kind of contacts he could enlist for aid. If nothing else his presence would have radically altered the “We’re going to do it our way” aspect of the conflict.

Honestly I don’t have a problem with that in of itself sometimes decision are made to enable the telling of a story. It happens and as long as the decision are reasonably believable (and lets be honest there are no hard and fast rules about what is and isn’t possible when it comes to soul sharing) its perfectly fine. My problem is the heavily implied reason why he’s disappeared is that he’s chosen to.

This is a huge problem to me. The entire redeeming aspect of Ozpin, the reason I’m willing to excuse everything he’s done and said (or not said) is he’s still trying. After everything he’s faced and lost and after being betrayed (multiple times apparently) not to mention I’m sure he’s seen plenty of examples of humans being shitty (because we are like way too often) he’s still trying to stop Salem. Still fighting the woman he loved to keep other people alive. He’s willing to continue to face all of that and not give up even when he has been told stopping her is impossible that there is no end game that he’s going to have to go on like this for all eternity. He’s willing to face that challenge that utter impossibility but he runs from the anger and questions of a drunk and a gaggle of children. The only way that makes sense is if he doesn’t believe in his own course of action. If despite the appearance of calm, control and confidence he has put on at almost every turn he’s not sure the lives he’s spent were worth it or that the secrecy was the right way to handle things or that any of what he’s doing is right. It implies an almost ‘making it up as you go’ approach. Where the seemingly well prepared Ozpin who always has another plan always knows what the next step needs to be was really just desperately trying to stay one step ahead of Salem the whole time. That he doesn’t have long term goals or plans just an endless scramble to stop Salem and that calls into question every other decision. See if the secret organization, the lies, the misinformation, the smug assurance that his way is right comes from a long term goal/plan and the calm assessment of a shear quantity of experience no one else could even comprehend then he’s justified. Even if some of those decisions end up being wrong (no one no matter how long they live is perfect) he is still the most qualified person to make such decisions and they had to be made. So if he is making those decisions with anything remotely like the purpose and confidence he shows he’s still the good guy but if he’s in so much doubt he would refuses to face someone challenging those decisions that confidence suddenly becomes unacceptable and damnable arrogance. Suddenly all those decisions made by experience and forethought are made by arrogance and paranoia and Ozpin goes from flawed hero to at best misguided and at worst power hungry villain.

While I’ve done this rant before and so won’t get into it to much I want to mention it because to me the fact Ozpin doesn’t defend himself better and put Salem’s immortality into perspective is the greatest indication he’s much less competent then he appears. I’m just honestly still a little upset that even without Ozpin someone didn’t sit the rest of the group down and go Salem’s immortality doesn’t matter. It changed absolutely nothing about their current situation or goals. Clearly based on the fact they are all alive Ozpin has successfully stopped her from destroying the world for generations. She may not be kill-able she is stoppable or at least preventable and prevention is all huntsmen-ing is prevent the grim from killing and causing destruction. Not stopping the grim not ending the threat of the grim permanently that was no where on the horizon. It wasn’t something any one of them thought they might do. Salem is exactly the same the jobs, the ones they volunteered for, haven’t really changed. and I’m sorry but that should be blindingly obvious if Ozpin can’t make that argument, if he doesn’t whole heartily believe and can’t easily convince the rest of RWBY+ of it he’s not competent enough to hold the positions he has. I can accept shock, outrage and discourage from everything Jinn said there was a lot there and an emotional response is at least understandable probably even expect-able so I can understand why it wouldn’t occur to someone other then Ozpin in the initial moments after Jinn’s reveal but as I said I’m still fairly disappointed we never at any time got any of the characters addressing this it just feels so obvious to me someone should have realized even without Ozpin to put it into perspective and if RWBY+ should have had time to figure this all out Ozpin really should have and the fact that he doesn’t address it at all and instead seems to flee is to me the single greatest indictment of his character by a huge margin.

Now lets discuss some other possible explanations for Ozpin's disappearance. Which might invalidate my complaints. First there’s Oscar. I’d be willing to accept (again there are no set rules for how Ozpin’s reincarnation works) that this whole thing is actually a result of Oscar rejecting Ozpin and making it difficult or even impossible for Ozpin to manifest himself. Oscar has made it clear (and it's perfectly understandable) that he has some misgivings about this whole melding thing. Oscar is also shown to reach out to Ozpin on occasion without success and then Ozpin shows up without prompting at the airship crash which would seem to disprove the theory Ozcar could be suppressing Ozpin but I think there’s a plausible argument saying something like because of soul/magic bs and Ozcar’s subconscious fear/concern he was suppressing Ozpin even in the instances he was reaching out toward Oz and that in the airship he was so consumed by the panic of the moment Ozpin was able reassert himself. While I don't find that as likely as the he's hiding explanation it does solve pretty much all of the problems I have with his disappearance.

A second possible explanation which would at least partially satisfy the issues I have would be that Ozpin had willfully isolated himself but not because he's running from the characters but because he's "seen this before" and recognizes it’ll be best for them and especially Oscar to come to the appropriate conclusions on their own. I’m not sure I believe that it could possibly be best to leave RWBY+ without advice with the fate of the world at stake but it would make a hell of a “I have trust in humanity” moment and going back again to the we don’t know how this soul melding thing really works I’d buy a it was vitally important for Oscar’s soul to synergize with Ozpin’s and for that to happen he need to develop some opinions and characteristic similar to Ozpin’s and that it was best if he developed them without Ozpin’s influence. Actual that aspect might provide the opportunity to justify the melding process a little making a claim that the mere fact Ozpin’s soul attached to Ozcar’s indicates his nature is similar and therefore he was always going to grow up to be like Ozpin to at least some extent but over the years Ozpin has found that allowing the new soul to grow to that similar state without interference simultaneously allows for a smoother melding and the new soul to maintain a better sense of self. Throw in Ozpin decided it was more important to preserve that sense of identity for the previous soul then him being present to help protect the relics and you make the soul melding thing much less morally grey. I don’t know that’s all some pretty strong bs but I think it’s at least mostly believable bs I’m still struggling a little with how letting RWBY+ figure things out for them selves could be for the best and none of it explains why Ozpin disappears when he does but it’s maybe something.

A third explanation which I don’t think completely excuses his disappearance but at least probably brings Ozpin back into the world of flawed hero and not villain is emotional trauma. Ozma has been through some shit and there’s probably never been anyone he could truly fully confide in. Even setting aside his obvious concerns about revealing too much who could ever really understand everything he’s been through. Not to mention his concerns about the present and future this is a man who feels the future of literally the entire world rests in his hands and that feeling is fairly accurate. Plus you know all those fun immortality probably isn’t as great as it sounds concerns that always pop up when you discuss such things and then there’s that moral grey area that is that whole soul melding thing again which he doesn’t seem to have any control over I’ll note. Considering it all it’s somewhat impressive Ozpin is even sane at this point so him having a little mental break down and going into hiding after reliving some of his worst memories, having the only people he thought he could rely on suddenly turning on him oh yeah and having been betrayed by Lionheart someone he seems to have had a history with and trusted implicitly only days before seems fairly reasonable to me. It does bring into question some of that invincible confidence and all the related problems mentioned above which is why I don’t think it completely excuses the disappearance but I think it could be written such that he still comes out with the good guy tag intact. The bigger problem is the calm almost amused way he presents himself during the airship crash and then disappears again. I, at least, can’t find a way to explain that in the context of this theory.

Those are my theories at this point. I’m curious to see how it turns out and would love to hear other people’s theories as well as reasonably phrased questions comments or complaints about mine. Honestly I just really hope this doesn’t turn out to be like the entire season plus of build up to Raven dramatically revealing she can turn into a bird and it’s all devious Oz’s fault you can’t trust him and then Qrow almost immediately brushes it away with oh yeah we agreed to that it was a cool and useful trick btw magic exists which if I’m being fair Yang probably didn’t already know but the audience did due to the maidens so yeah not really much of a reveal.

#rwby #rwby ozpin #rwby ozma #rwby ozcar #rwby volume 6 #theories #rwby theory #rant #rwby jinn

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the-desolated-quill · 6 years

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Rosa - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

It comes as a massive relief to say that I really enjoyed this episode. There are a number of ways Rosa could have gone wrong and while Chris Chibnall has managed to crank out two surprisingly good Doctor Who episodes so far, it’s hard to shake off old fears. Oh my God, I thought to myself, a historical episode about Rosa Parks and the Black Civil Rights Movement. Is Chibnall biting off more than he can chew?

Thankfully Chibnall had the good sense to hire a co-writer that can keep his white privilege in check. Malorie Blackman. Author of the critically acclaimed Noughts and Crosses series of books depicting an alternative reality where Africans developed a technological advantage over Europeans and where white people are segregated under this world’s version of the Jim Crow laws. It’s safe to say that Blackman knows a thing or two about exploring racism and, being a black woman, she’s much more qualified to talk about issues of race and to represent Rosa Parks and the Civil Rights Movement as a whole than Chibnall is. The result is, without a shadow of a doubt, some of the best Doctor Who I’ve seen in years.

One thing I’m glad about is the way Rosa Parks is depicted. Historical stories (particularly New Who historical stories) have an unfortunate tendency to go completely over the top with it. It’s just not enough to have a character who played a significant part in human history. Oh no. They’ve also got to be the specialist, most important person in the whole wide universe. The result is that we’re often left with a wafer thin episode that completely romanticises the period of history the story is trying to depict, waters down all the more complicated and unsavoury parts of the historical setting and turns the famous historical figure into a shallow caricature of themselves (see Agatha Christie in Unicorn And The Wasp, Winston Churchill in Victory Of The Daleks and Vincent Van Gogh in Vincent And The Doctor). Rosa, thankfully, doesn’t fall into the same trap. Rosa Parks isn’t treated as a god among mortals. She’s treated like an ordinary person, thus making her actions that much more powerful.

Vinette Robinson (who appeared in a previous Chibnall penned story 42) does an incredible job playing Rosa Parks. Again, more emphasis is placed on how ordinary she is rather than how historically significant. Nowadays we of course view her as the genesis of the Black Civil Rights Movement and she has rightly been praised and immortalised for that, but it’s easy to forget that she was a real person behind the legacy, which is what the episode really delves into. We get to see her fear, sadness and frustration in this oppressive society. And it really brings home how mundane her actions really are. Sure we can see from hindsight how her actions would influence others and change the course of history, but she wasn’t some heroic freedom fighter taking a stand. She was a woman who just wanted to sit down on a bus after a hard day at work. And the fact that she, Martin Luther King and other black people actually had to fight for the right to do something so trivial is utterly ridiculous.

Some have criticised the episode saying that this is too heavy a subject matter to deal with at 7pm on a Sunday evening. I couldn’t disagree more. For one thing, this isn’t the first time Doctor Who has handled difficult subject matters (Nazism and genocide have frequently cropped up in past stories after all). But I think the criticism mostly stems from people (white people) being left feeling uncomfortable by the story and are trying to avoid having a serious conversation about it NRA style, claiming that this isn’t the right time for it. Well... when is it the right time? Nobody wants to have this conversation, sure, but we’ve still got to have it. And as uncomfortable viewing as it is, it’s important that it is not sugar-coated and that we’re reminded of how difficult things were for non-white people so that shit like this never happens again. So no, I didn’t think the use of violence against black people or racially charged language up to and including the n word were inappropriate. It was an accurate depiction of the environment at the time and if you felt uncomfortable by that, then congratulations, that’s precisely what you’re supposed to feel.

In fact I honestly thought the episode’s depiction of violence against black people was quite restrained, making the acts of discrimination that much more despicable in my eyes. Using gratuitous violence would have been a cheap shot and Chibnall and Blackman mercifully avoid that route. What makes the episode so chilling to watch isn’t the things that white people do, but rather the oppressive atmosphere they create. It’s not the arrogant tosspot slapping Ryan across the face for touching his wife’s glove that had me on edge. It was the scene after that where everyone is just silently staring at the TARDIS crew in the cafe that really made me feel queasy. The threat is implied, yet constant, which is infinitely scarier. After the likes of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss boasting about how their episodes were going to be ‘the scariest Doctor Who stories ever’ only for them to amount to a hodge-podge of tired horror cliches and a dumb monster going ‘boo’, it’s a relief to see writers take a more subtle ‘less is more’ approach. I’m sorry, but the bus driver glaring angrily at Rosa is much more terrifying than a Weeping Angel. Period.

Which brings me to Krasko, played with smug charm by Joshua Bowman who succeeds at making you want to reach through the screen and punch his racist face repeatedly. Again, some have criticised the episode for its ‘one dimensional villain’ and, again, it only seems to be white people making this criticism. Not to make sweeping generalisations here, but non-white fans seem to be largely happy with how Krasko was written and depicted, probably because they’ve had to deal with pricks like him at least once in their lives. I’m guessing the source of the criticism comes from him not having a backstory or concrete motivation other than he hates black people. But my response to that is... does he really need one? Would Krasko have really been a more interesting character if it was revealed that he was bullied in school or a black kid had stolen his My Little Pony lunchbox? Does there really need to be a reason for why he hates black people and wants to ‘put them in their place’? I would have thought him being a racist white person would have been enough reason to hate him frankly. Let’s not forget what happened when Star Wars and Marvel respectively gave their villains Kylo Ren and Kilgrave tragic backstories to provide context for their despicable actions, at which point the fans proceeded to romanticise the fuck out of them, calling them misunderstood. Maybe (and this is just my opinion) giving Krasko a backstory wouldn’t have made him more interesting, but instead would have been seen as an attempt to justify and excuse his shitty behaviour, and maybe, just maybe, we’re better off without one. Just a thought.

Besides, it’s not as if we don’t learn anything about Krasko. We’re given enough information to work with. He’s a time traveller from the future. He was put in prison for murdering two thousand people (quick side note, did anyone else laugh when the Doctor said the Stormcage was the most secure prison in the universe? Remind me, how many times did River Song break out again?). He’s clearly intelligent, as demonstrated by him coming up with a non-violent plan to ruin the lives of generations of non-white people in order to circumvent his neural inhibitors. While it’s never overtly mentioned, he’s clearly some future version of the alt-right and is there to act as an extension of the true villain of the story. Because that’s the thing the people criticising his character have overlooked. Krasko isn’t the villain. White people are. The society Rosa Parks lives in is the true villain. Krasko is there not just to get to the plot going, but also to subtly demonstrate that while things do get better for non-white citizens, there will always be that racist element within our society. Hell, Ryan and Yasmin even spell it out for you in their conversation whilst hiding from the police. While people like Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King made a huge impact and helped change things for the better, racism and prejudice hasn’t just magically gone away. It’s still around. There are still people who cling on to these extremist and bigoted views. Some might argue that racism has become so entrenched in Western society that it will never fully go away. That there will always be some remnant hanging around. That’s what Krasko represents. So if you thought he was a rubbish villain because he had ‘no backstory or motivation’ then I’m afraid you’ve completely missed the point.

I should also applaud Chibnall and Blackman for resisting the urge to shove in some pointless alien like other historicals have. Not only would that have distracted from Rosa’s story, the racist white people are scary enough thank you very much. While there are sci-fi elements in here, the episode quite rightfully focuses on people.

Speaking of people, let’s talk about the TARDIS crew. Yeah! They’re in this episode too! Haven’t really talked about them much, have I? The Doctor largely takes a backseat in this one, which I know some people have a problem with, but I think it was the right thing to do. We don’t want an alien white woman coming in and stealing Rosa Parks’ glory. Jodie Whittaker graciously lets Vinette Robinson take centre stage while she busies herself with other things like confronting and intimidating Krasko and organising fake raffles with Frank Sinatra. I really like the balance they’ve struck between light and dark with this Doctor (something Moffat tried to do with Peter Capaldi’s Doctor and failed at miserably). She’s funny, compassionate and caring, but there’s a little bit of Sylvester McCoy’s devious cunning in there too, which really comes to the forefront here. Did anyone else find it really disconcerting seeing the Doctor try to maintain history? Influencing events so that Rosa Parks had no choice, but to give up (or refuse to give up) her seat. While we know she’s doing it for the right reasons, in order to keep black history in check, she’s still nonetheless actively contributing to Rosa’s misery, which is actually a clever way of exploring how white people all contribute to a racist status quo, directly, indirectly, intentionally and unintentionally. And of course it all culminates in the Doctor and co refusing to give up their seats in order to keep history intact. The look on Thirteen’s face as events unfold says it all. The look of sheer sadness and self loathing, knowing she played a part in this, is haunting. Same goes for Graham’s realisation. The widower of a black woman and step-grandfather to a black teenager being forced to contribute to this racist institution is utterly heartbreaking.

But the standout of the main cast has to be Ryan. Tosin Cole truly shines in this episode, giving an incredibly powerful and moving performance. This in many ways is his episode as he comes face to face with the racist prejudices of the time period and Cole rises to the occasion. My favourite scene has to be when Ryan talks with Rosa, thanking her for everything she will do in the future and promising that things will get better. It’s incredibly emotional and I actually started tearing up with him. I’m also so happy that he was the one that got to beat Krasko at the end rather than the Doctor. I stood up and cheered. And his reaction to seeing Martin Luther King has got to be one of the most charming moments of the series so far.

Rosa is unquestionably one of the strongest episodes in all of Doctor Who. It’s incredibly well written and performed and it’s extremely powerful as well as being very subtle and nuanced. What’s more, I’m now completely sold on Chris Chibnall being the showrunner. Any lingering doubts I’ve may have had are now completely evaporated after this episode. Rosa proves that not only does Chibnall respect and value diversity both in front of and behind the camera, but that he’s also committed to creating something truly special with his tenure, using the Doctor Who format to explore hard hitting and difficult subject matters with care and respect. Truly excellent television.

#rosa #malorie blackman #chris chibnall #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #jodie whittaker #graham o'brien #bradley walsh #yasmin khan #mandip gill #ryan sinclair #tosin cole #bbc #review #spoilers

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