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[invinciblerodent]

I have been thinking fucking incessantly about this one Todd May quote ever since that scene meeting Mystra:

"Why, for the Immortals, are all undertakings in vain? Given an infinite amount of time for existence, everything will happen of its own accord. There is nothing an immortal being cannot eventually do; and, in fact, nothing he or she will not eventually do."

This is from his book "Death", from the chapter "Death and immortality", about... well, immortality, and the morals of it, as contrasted with its mortal conceptions.

Essentially, in the most straightforward way I can phrase it, May describes how for mortals, life is fraught with urgency. We are always at least tangentially aware of our existence being temporary: which is in part what makes our actions meaningful. We are aware that there is a finite amount of things that we are able to accomplish in our lifetimes, and we are at least kind of aware of our existence being singular in time (even considering religious beliefs of things like reincarnation or an eternal afterlife, the here and now when I am both this and present is still unique), so the end, or the idea of it, in its way, generates the meaning of the limited number of events within this particular chunk of time.

An immortal, like a goddess, would likely be more of a disinterested spectator of life than an active participant in it. Without the urgency of a time limit to drive them forward, and the precariousness of living to make the future uncertain, a goddess has no real interest in things that happen in the world of mortals. With good turning to bad, and bad turning to good over the centuries, it's easy enough to kind of stop caring about what is currently going on, because, well, it'll eventually be different, and then the same again.

Of fucking course she doesn't care for Gale the way he cares for her: it's impossible for her, which is what he, with his limited, human perspective, is (imo) initially incapable of understanding. In his very short, limited life, there is room for one, maybe two such great loves, but in hers? There is an endless, constant stream of near-faceless people, flowing through and not making a permanent mark, because permanence for an immortal is a word largely devoid of meaning. Bad or good, the guilt/pleasure will always fade, the people will all die and get replaced by a brand new crop of similarly expendable people, and the goddess will still have an infinity of time to go.

Even considering that she was once Mystryl, and that technically this incarnation of her was once mortal, and keeping her brush with a kind of death in mind, the future for Mystra, as she can conceive of it, is an empty, vast expanse of nothing but the certainty that she will live, and she will be present in some way. Even if slain (if I recall correctly how this works in DnD), her essence just kinda returns to the cosmic soup, and eventually, she'll... reform, or be resurrected, or changed as she has been already, or she'll remain as an immaterial fragment, or something. Point is, she is unending, and he is no more than a blip on her radar.

That's why she's so callous about asking him to die, and in turn essentially dooming Faerun: she doesn't care. She can't care. He was going to die anyway in what feels to her like the blink of an eye (whether it's 5 days, 50 years, or 500, it's not important), and what does she care if the Grand Design comes to fruition? Whether there are people or mind flayers inhabiting the world, it's of no real concern to her. Eventually, either people will strike back, or go extinct, or the mind flayers will cease to exist and something different will come from it, all without truly affecting her. In a year, a hundred years, or a million years, she will be here, and there will be another bright mageling to amuse her.

Fun as it is to joke about it, I don't think that the toxicity of their relationship is her fault, strictly speaking. It's not the ocean's fault when a tsunami destroys a village and kills hundreds. It's not the storm's fault when lightning strikes and kills a tree. Her very nature is this nebulous, capricious existence, only truly occupied with having the power to indulge her whimsies, and filling an infinite amount of time with things to do- unconcerned about how that affects others, because their whole lives barely affect her for a short segment of her eternal soup of undefined presence.

It can be argued that any relationship that may exist between mortal and immortal is necessarily tragic, toxic, desperately unequal, and grossly unhealthy for the mortal. By its very nature, such a relationship pushes the needs and feelings of the mortal party into essential inconsequence to their partner. There can be no regret to feel when the mortal is hurt or gone, because there have been others like them, and there will be others to come still, and everything will happen, or has happened, and will happen again.

Gale was always doomed to be her devoted plaything, only to be discarded once he stops being fun. That could have been once his appearance stopped pleasing her, or once his wit stopped entertaining her, or for any reason whatsoever, and him recognizing that this relationship was never anything more than entertainment to her, while it was devastating and singularly defining to him, is such an important thing for his future happiness.

(This is mainly why his throwaway "Let me make myself indispensable" line is so important to me, tbh. He yearns to matter, and that is only possible if he either finds contentment entirely within the mortal realm, or becomes a god himself, which in turn just dooms him to essentially become Mystra and continue this vicious cycle.)

(Fucking tragic-ass low-wis wizard man, making me fkin... re-read my philosophy books. Honestly the gall, Larian.)

[athelari]

how 'boooouuuuut either Fragments or Vortex. never get enough of cyberpunk.

Aye, never enough of cyberpunk indeed! Thanks for asking!

Fragments (so titled because I had only fragments of a plot at the time) centres around Vega, a… solver; well, she's somewhere between private eye, fixer, and hired gun (this hybrid profession is commonish in the setting). At the start, Vega loses her partner during a botched job, partially because of unforseen circumstances but also partially due to her own arrogance. Fast forward to present day, and she's stuck in a rut. A man approaches her with a missing person job, but she's reluctant to take it after what happened last time. Until, that is, she recognises the missing person as a childhood friend. As the case goes on, more and more allusions to her past crop up, and it becomes increasingly obvious whoever is behind this is out to get her and her alone.

Vortex shares the same setting as Fragments, but instead of one main character, flip-flops around a smaller ensemble cast. The titular Vortex is a group of solvers (man, I'm really not sure about that, but it's a useful placeholder until I find a better word for the job). They discover that a rival group is developing illegal and possibly dangerous cybernetics for their own men and decide to interfere, not just because of the business implications but also because they recognise the lead medical officer as an old friend who'd supposedly retired. Most of the plot follows them trying to foil the rival's plans while also rescuing the doctor.

See, the thing is… both of these projects are conceptualised not as prose, but video games. Fragments is meant to be an immersive sim with a focus on stealth and investigation (I had a hard time describing my intended genre/vibe at first, then I played Deus Ex and basically went "...this. this is what I wanted."); I'm a bit more open on Vortex, but aiming for something systemic with a hint of RPG for the whole party-based thing. As for how I'll do it… well, I'm still far behind on my coding classes, heh.

[classicschronicles]

Hi lovelies,

Today’s entry is about the Greek lyrical poet Sappho- hope you enjoy!

Who was Sappho

Sappho was a greek lyric poet who lived between the 7th and 6th century BC. She was born on the Island of Lesbos, but other than that- surprisingly little is known about her personal life. It is thought that her father died when she was relatively young. We do know that she had at least two brothers, Charaxos and Larichos, as she mentions them in some of her poetry. There is a possibility that she had a third brother, but there is no definitive proof of this. Historians also think that she may have had a daughter as in some of her poems she talks about a young child a lot.

Lesbos

One thing we definitely do know about Sappho is that she was from the island of Lesbos. Also fun fact, and you guys probably know this, but Sappho being from the island of Lesbos is why lesbians are called lesbians. But anyways, Lesbos was a greek island located in the eastern Aegean just off of Turkey. It thrived throughout all of Ancient Greece but its main era of prosperity was from the Bronze Age to the Byzantine era. Because of its unique location it switched frequently between Greek and Persian ownership. It is quite interesting because during Sappho’s time it’s ownership was really quite turbulent, but she refrains from ever mentioning the political situation of Lesbos. The island was famous for its wine, antiquities and the fact that it was the epicentre of culture, and Sappho lived in its capital city Mytilene. Lesbos is mentioned a lot in mythology and literature, especially Homeric literature. For example, Achilles has a particular love for women form Lesbos as he takes one as a slave on his way to Troy. Also it is mentioned that Achilles captured the island from Priam when it had been under the Trojan Empire. Oh and other fun fact, cities in Lesbos are called ‘Lesbian cities.’ It is worth noting that Lesbos was quite an idyllic island and the people who lived there were likely to be more fortunate than the rest of the average population and so when Sappho talks about her life on Lesbos we have to keep in mind that this was atypical for the general female population.

Thiasos

As mentioned previously, Sappho didn’t really talk about the political situation of the time and almost all of her work focussed on personal themes. One idea that was focussed on a lot was Sappho’s Thiasos. A Thiasos was basically a female community which had a religious and educational background. Essentially it was the female version of a symposium. In symposium older men would train younger men in the art of citizenship and philosophy and just general male etiquette in return for pleasure, and a female symposium (or Thiasos) worked the same way. Sappho actually ran a Thiasos who would meet under leadership and the goal of the sapphic Thiasos was the education of young women, especially in preparation of marriage. The patron goddess of Sappho’s symposium was Aphrodite and Sappho was said to be the ‘intimate’ servant of Aphrodite. In a Thiasos young women were taught about the art of grace and elegance for seduction and love. Signing, dancing and poetry played a key part in their eduction. It is also worth noting, that like male symposiums, homoeroticism played a key role in the context of initiation and education.

Imagery

Most of the imagery in Sappho’s poetry is basically the same imagery used to describe Maenads- just because of the whole idea of femininity and sensuality. There’s a lot of flowers, garlands, nature , incense and perfumed unguents. Its worth noting that all of these are elements of Aphrodisiac rituals.

Fragmented works

It is not known how her poems were published and circulated in her own lifetime and for the following three or four centuries after that. In the era of Alexandrian scholarship, what survived of her work was collected and published in a standard edition of nine books of lyrical verse, which were divided by meter. These edition did not survive beyond the early Middle Ages and by the 8th or 9th century Sappho was represented only by quotations and references by other authors. Only her poem, Ode to Aphrodite, which is 28 lines long, is complete. The next longest fragment is 16 lines long. Since the 19th century, these fragments have been increased by papyrus findings, but nothing longer than two lines of verse.

Gender

There is a lot of debate amongst historians and classicists over whether Sappho really was a woman. A lot of this discourse stems from her level of education. It wasn’t normal for women at the time to have an overly established eduction and so how Sappho was so well educated makes people question whether she really was a woman. The rest of the disagreement stems from the fact that we know so little about her, and the fact that she never explicitly genders herself, that is to say we don’t know what pronouns she uses. However, due to the Thiasos and the vases and the way in which Plato speaks of her, it is safe to say that Sappho was a ‘woman.’ There is also another explanation for the lack of personal and romantic pronouns in her work, which is the church in later years pushing heteronormativity on her works. I would also go as far as to argue that claiming Sappho isn’t a woman is just histories way of thinly masking both its misogyny and homophobia, by discrediting women.

Sappho’s poems (or what remains of them) read very beautifully and it really is a shame that we have so little left. One last fun fact- Sappho is the only real classical woman to still have a vase in her honour. Anyways! I hope you all have a lovely remainder of your weekend :)

~Z

[fionacreates]

10, 22, 27, 28, 36 listen I just want ANSWERS also pick a question yourself, for fun 😘

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

Yes. When I read something contemporary set, either non fiction, or fictionised versions of true scenarios that show me what it's like to live a life that's not my own, they can really stick in my head because these are people's lives.

Don't get me wrong I get sad when I'm reading a fantasy story and someone dies or whatever the emotional cadances are. But when you read something like Monday's Not Coming by Tiffany D Jackson, or Nothing to Envy they stay with you. (As they should.)

I also read A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes, and The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker. Both these books reframe The Illiad and Trojan mythology through the eyes of the women. They are contemporary books, so they definately have a contemporary point to make, but as a woman myself who very much grew up enjoying hero tales, this reminds us starkly of what it really meant to be anything other than a god or a hero in these tales and every time I read anything of the Illiad retelling variety, especially when they very much dismiss the women in the stories (as the originals did) I can't help but be reminded of the other stories hidden behind the heroes. Even if it's all a lot more fictional than my first examples.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

I do my initial writings entirely by hand. When I went through Art School with drawing I'm very much used to using a sketchbook as a place to play and screw up. I enjoy the process of writing with a nice pen in a nice book. I number my pages and index at the front what in development stories are on what pages. I then index my story outlines with "you can find the script for this part on page XX"

I have one book just for Ladies of the Knight (it's my second) and another for all the in development projects.

When a notebook is done it is labeled and put on a shelf with my other stuff so I can go back to them.

THEN when I've played and rewritten things as often as need by, I sit down at a computer and type it up into a script template I made in google docs (and then copy and paste it to a word doc and save it like 5 places!) and do my final edits.

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Aethelburg. She plays the position of the antagonist, and it would be so easy to let her slip into just being the petty rich pretty girl. And while I want people to see her that way at first, that's not actually what she is, but she walks a fine line.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Literally delightful is George. Because she has no shame about what she wants or being so enthusiastic. As someone who spent a lot of their teen years afraid of what people thought of my dreams, to write someone so open with their desires, and how hard they're working to get them, is very freeing.

A spiteful delight is Serafina. She comes from a place close to my own brain, but she doesn't stop herself being mean or blunt whereas I definately care more about not offending my friends and family. It's also very freeing to let her be a blunt asshole.

34. (A question picked myself) Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

I don't know what this is.

I make comics.

Prose is weird and terrifying.

What is a comma and why is it from Oxford?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you Know?

Ah see I think this is excellent advice but very misinterprited.

My characters all come from pieces of my own personality that I fragment out and build upon. So I KNOW them all and how they might react, even if I don't know what it is to be an elite athlete, or to ride a horse, or live in the medieval fantasy world I built.

Writing what you know is not just writing an autobiography about a comics creator in their mid 30s living in the UK, it's knowing that when I was 15 I wish I'd been less afraid, so what if I made a character that did that.

You can create something as vastly different from your own experiences as you think you can get, but if you can't find the connection of why that's interesting to you (and thus probably your readers) it's going to seem hollow and fake.

And for what you don't know. Research.

[thepeachgreentea]

this got Real Long Real Quick...

I wanna know more about Luka's soul song gift - like how much do emotions or personality play into it? ((I’m going with a lot)) Does it only work in person?? Or can he get like snippets from videos or vibes from pictures? Like it would make sense if it was only in person...... But where's the fun I'm that? Realistically it wouldn't be as strong as in person but I could see him getting some stuff. Pictures it probably wouldn't be a lot, or even much of anything, unless the soul song really didn't match the picture...

Which means Luka is one of the first people to realize something is Up with Adrien (and the Agrestes in general)

The ads around the city never felt right, never matched up with the snippets/vibes he was able to get - unless Adrien was supposed to be sad or melancholy. Which is... yikes...

Then the Adrien The Fragrance commercial happens. And that's an additional big Fucking Yikes

Like I can only imagine that Adrien isn't particularly big on modelling in general from what we've seen (with the Marinette-exception) so the filming of that could have only been Worse than normal. How many times did it take to get the emotions at the ‘right’ level? How long did it take to get the angles and all the action done?

Anyway: after the first time Luka literally cannot stomach watching it or even listening to it because it is so Wrong. The soul song snippets from the video are longer and more intense and it is just so discordant that Luka can't deal

Adrien is most certainly NOT feeling carefree. Or radiant. Or remotely dreamy. He's goddamn exhausted, frustrated, resigned, depressed, sweaty, anxious, awkward, stressed. It is a whole stew of (teen) angst offset with that upbeat music and the bright blue sky & all that w h i t e and the jumping for joy

It is such a strong dichotomy Luka has a visceral reaction every time and has to either leave the room or mute it and look away,

All of that means that after he meets Adrien in person, and gets to hear his soul song in a couple different situations and can see his emotions matching internally and externally he basically tells him they will always have space for him on the Liberty. (Also the first time he saw the LB + CN movie and heard Adrien's voice acting he only picked up some nerves - easily attributed to a new situation rather than a secret identity - but he was clearly enjoying himself even if it was a terrible script)

Therefore, Luka doesn't have particularly good feelings towards Gabriel, even before seeing any videos of him.

Style Queen was a Time. He was happy for Adrien but the bits he was getting from Gabriel were so rigid and tight... And rather selfish to boot. Which was weird given the situation

He has to try very very hard to not sneer or snarl at the tablet he first "meets" him on - probably at a Kitty Section practice or concert or at some class + family event.

I can also v easily picture him meeting him in person and being super uncomfortable at the sheer amount of manipulation and self-aggrandizing, selfishness, etc that rolls off of Gabriel, basically choking out his soul song. Either Lula barely refrains from punching Gabriel and manages to shake his hand but then desperately needs to clean his hands. Orrrr he does punch him and then basically coats his hands in sanitizer (either way he is Nino’s absolute favorite person for this alone)

Also, this would not be the first time Luka has figured out an abusive situation. It has happened with both his own and Juleka's friends & classmates. He is v much a protective older brother at heart

And because I damn well can have some Lila salt, some of which has been touched on before, unlike with Gabriel:

He had heard about her from Juleka and Kitty Section and was a bit confused about it but it wasn't until Rose was over and the girls were telling him about some of Lila's stories that he saw a picture of her.

And that was The Strongest he had ever reacted to a picture before: instant chills up his spine and an actual hiss escaped him

All 3 of them are shocked. Luka then has to explain that reaction as best as he can. Which is hard when you aren't great at words and while the soul song fragments are rather clear he would never make his guitar suffer trying to recreate them.

He manages tho and Julerose are at least wary of her afterwards. They start observing her more and a lot of her behavior and the way she talks can be very off-putting. They start noticing some of the digs that she makes at others, that she contradicts herself 5 different ways, and how she is constantly bringing the attention back to herself.

During all this they start noticing how both Marinette and Adrien react to her and it is Not Good. Mari gets defensive and will often try to bring up those contradictions that they started noticing. But jealousy is only a minor factor, at most. In certain situations it is possible that it could be involved... except those only happen when Adrien is looking very uncomfortable and Marinette notices or they make eye contact and then Marinette creates an opportunity for him to escape

Which is something that no one else is noticing which is really terrible and unhealthy...

Around this time is when Ivan has started to figure out something is up. and then he definitely knows when Julerose show Luka a video at a private band practice.

Because video and in person interactions make the BadBadBAD feelings worse and Ivan, while he often struggles with understanding & expressing emotions, has definitely noticed Lila - even though she is not actually there - causes a lot of stress and anxiety to Luka and he has gotten really good at methods of lessening those.

So, Luka sees the video with/of Lila and has an even stronger reaction than the picture before. His eyes get huge, and his face pales (gets slightly sickly?), and he hisses even stronger than the first time

He refuses to try to play her soul song because something like that is nearly impossible to recreate but also doesn’t need to be put out into the world but does his best to try and describe it

Possible: her soul song feels like it is drowning in toxic sludge - there is just so much negativeness that it is barely intelligible. It is being smothered by self-satisfaction and importance, narcissism, aggressive manipulation, pettiness, vile maliciousness, etc

In person interactions are awful. Luka avoids physical interaction as much as possible. Even more than he would with Gabriel, and he wants as little to do with that man as possible, ideally none. But Lila is worse...

There have been multiple times that he has had to step out/away to be able to get some fresh air and breathe again. At least once where he has been or almost has been sick - usually following a hug that he did not consent to or something similar

Ivan is definitely in the fold now, and Julerose share what they have noticed from taking their step back. He realizes he has noticed a lot of those same things but he wasn’t analyzing them and didn’t have the same context for them at the time that Luka, Juleka, and Rose did. But afterwards he picks up on them more clearly, and some other things they hadn’t - benefits of being one of the quiet kids (and a lesser target of Lila’s focus). He is part of the driving force in bringing Marinette and Adrien in first before going to others.

Marinette breaks down because more people believe her?? and support her and Adrien? it is a huge relief of tension. And she didn’t even have to convince them herself!! what a concept... but it is definitely a safe space for her and she can share her own experiences and that certainly is nice

they had all suspected Something was Up but weren’t expecting that so there are lots of hugs and tears and support and mutters of payback 

Adrien eventually cries because Kitty Section + Marinette give him a TedTalk about consent and personal autonomy. And now he has so many people (!!!) telling him he can say no and make his own choices, mistakes, and decisions. (Marinette’s part is largely “I told you so / do you believe us now?” because the Dupain-Chengs have probably already given this same talk as a family but that is just A family’s opinion, others probably think differently) And this is the first time he really truly believes it and... oooof there are a lot of emotions and interactions to unpack and reconsider

but now he knows he really needs to and that he can and should which is new, but so is having an actual support system...

Thus, Luka is ready to fight a bitch the first time he sees Lila and Adrien interacting. There is so much clinging and touching, and Adrien is panicking and no one is doing anything or is being waved off. And (unfortunately) this is one of the things that causes some people to start questioning things about Lila. Because most of them know of Luka as a really chill, laid-back guy who is open and accepting of people. and besides he has no reason to be jealous (((👀👀👀👀 too much to think about and unpack t h e r e))) so why would he be upset about Lila leaning on Adrien and holding his arm??

So, the questioning of Lila and what she says spreads out from Kitty Section and Adrinette to the rest of the class. They take a different approach. They slowly, carefully approach their classmates and take them aside when possible to talk about the situation

This allows them to be able to get their undivided attention and lay out what they have found out in a logical and cohesive manner, rather than attempting something rash or in the heat of the moment. Marinette grumbled about this method initially but when there were actual results and the burden was shared it was a huge relief for her.

In fact, others start coming to them about Lila.

because of the work of Kitty Section and Adrinette Lila’s audience has been steadily decreasing and it is getting easier to notice things. With a smaller audience the focus doesn’t get split as much and there are less questions for her to build off of or go on tangents from and the contradictions start standing out more, or she’s making more to try and keep them around her by holding their interest with different details

Plus, the comments about those outside Her Circle are getting meaner and more frequent. Usually they are still sneaky or underhanded but nowhere near as subtle as they were originally (were they ever, really?) and it is raising suspicions and hackles.

Eventually, Lila is left without an audience because the class has all been brought out of the cloud of manipulation and are working on trust and listening to each other more/better. and on how to not disregard other’s feelings (which is esp important with the high butterfly population in Paris, but is a v good life lesson in general). they are young and will make mistakes and will have to learn from them. but trials, growth, and change are all part of life so it is good for them.

But it essentially all stems from Luka and his ability to hear soul songs and reacting to those songs, or the lack thereof when they are being choked by evil intentions/emotions/actions/what have you

[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

Scholarly Pursuits

Tang enjoys an evening of scholarly pursuits. At least that’s what he tells the others. They don't need to know about the heist. 

Or: Upon the fear that MK might be under the circlet’s curse Tang resolves to find the activation spell and destroy it. 

Link for ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446992

It had started with a Monkey King story, as so much in Tang’s life seemed to nowadays. MK was cleaning up the mess his clone had left in Pigsy’s shop and he’d seemed so down Tang had offered a story. MK’s morose “Anything that doesn’t have clones in it,” was to be expected really. Poor kid had been through a lot.

He ran through all the stories he knew in his mind for one that didn’t involve clones or a duplicate and replace. “How about the time Monkey King attained immortality for the first time? Or perhaps how he met one of his friends?”

MK looked up from where he was sweeping. “What’s the first adventure he had with the Monk?” he said.

Tang smiled and began a story of a Monk who freed a Monkey from under a mountain, their initial clashes with a tiger and bandits, and the resulting fight over the Monkey’s viciousness that split their company until a mysterious old women who was far more then she seemed provided a hat which tightened on command. The story had its desired effect as MK had all but forgotten the broom and the now spotless floor, in favor of perching near Tang and hanging onto his every word.

“Did the circlet work cause of what was said or is it based on who said it?” he said pulling out his unauthorized autobiography and scribbling something down.

“Well…” Tang began but he was cut off by an annoyed shout.

“Stop distracting the kid!” came Pigsy’s angry voice as he stomped into the room, only to do a double take at the spotless floors. “Hhhnf,” he said. “Good job kid, you get the rest of the night off.” MK let out a happy squeal of delight and rushed up the stairs leaving Tang alone with Pigsy.

“Take out tonight?” Tang suggested but Pigsy was not listening to him.

“A circlet that tightens upon command?” said Pigsy. “Any chance that’s going to bother him?”

Tang did not let his shock at Pigsy asking for his knowledge on Monkey king stories show on his face. Instead he pushed his glasses up and smiled. “He’s not wearing one is he? So it’s irrelevant.”

Pigsy huffed and moved off, “I suppose it’s not like anyone remembers how to activate it now,” he muttered.

And Tang’s blood ran cold.

Pigsy continued on oblivious. “How can you even be hungry when you spent all day….” But the words had muted into white noise, taking a backseat to the cacophony in Tang’s brain.

Because Pigsy’s assumption was wrong. Someone did know how to activate the circlet. Tang knew, he’d learned it.

…and that meant others could too.

“…And we aren’t getting takeout when we have perfectly good leftovers!” Pigsy’s indignation finally blasting through the bombshells in Tang’s head.

He nodded and followed the pig, taking care to keep his trademark smirk on his face. No point in worrying him further. And it’s not like the kid had been wearing a circlet at any time. There was nothing to worry about.

  When he’d still been young and naïve, before he’d packed his bags and gone as far west as his meager saving would send him (only two cities over and right into Pigsy’s noodle shop) he’d attended university and managed to secure a job working under a professor in charge of the archives. Aware of his fascination with the Monkey King and thrilled to pass on the love of folklore studies to another, the professor had one day shown him an old papyrus, “And this here is the spell to activate the Monkey King’s headband.”

“Really?” said Tang committing the words to memory. “Does it work?”

“Of course not!” said his professor. “That’s just a story. But this does show us the importance the myth had in the past….”

He was huddle against Sandy and Mei watching MK return to life for the second time in one day. He burst from a stone, just like all the stories, looking exactly how Tang had always envisioned the Monkey king: hovering in the air in front of the sun, wielding a staff, and a faint glowing band across his head.

This was not a story.

This was not a dream.

This was a memory.

   He sat bolt upright and all sense of sleep gone. After checking to make sure he hadn’t woken Pigsy, he slipped onto the balcony to think. He let the cool night air chase any last remnants of sleep from him; he would need his whole mind for this.

The facts were simple. The Monkey King’s circlet caused terrible pain when activated. Tang had seen the fragments of an ancient paper with writing on it and been told it was the activation spell for the circlet. MK had appeared to have a circlet on his head during his first fight against the demon bull king.

It was the unknowns that were less straightforward. He didn’t know if the Monkey King’s circlet could be activated by anyone with the spell or if the speaker mattered. He didn’t know if anyone else had attempted to learn the spell since he’d seen it in a dusty archive. He didn’t know if MK really even had the circlet on him or if it was just some cool aesthetic he’d created with his own powers in the heat of the moment.

And MK knew and worked with the actual Monkey King. Surely he would know if his successor had inherited his circlet. And surely he’d do something about it? Right?

Tang felt his hands clench on the cold iron balcony railing. He stared at it for a moment and then took a deep breath and forced himself relax. His fingers uncurled and he tucked them into his pockets before lifting his gaze to MK’s balcony.

Fact: He’d memorized the words within moments. That information was still out there and easily accessible to any enemy who could fool a university’s security system.

Fact: Tang could not afford this risk, not with MK at stake.

“But what can I do about it?” he wondered aloud. “It’s not like I can pull of a heist by myself.” A rustle in the trees caught his attention and he froze realizing what he’d just said aloud. He scanned the area for eavesdroppers (or worse, Pigsy) but there was only an orange bird rustling around in the plants on a nearby balcony. He had avoided trouble this time but the warning was still there. If he was going to do this, no one could possibly know.

  All good heists require plans. And the best require simple plans with straightforward execution so when it all failed in the third act, he could still figure his way out. The barebones of this plan was simple: get into the university, hope the passcode for the archive vault hadn’t changed since he was a student, destroy a priceless piece of ancient papyrus, get out. He could take the bus.

Then the morning news caught his attention and he had a better idea.

“Mei,” he said sliding his phone over to her, “Could you do me a favor?”

“Sure!” she said glancing curiously down from the top picture to the article beneath it. “What do you need?”

“Could you sign up as a last minute competitor at this race for me?” said Tang.

Mei skimmed the details of the race. “I don’t know,” she said brow furrowed. “This is in the next town over and I’m not familiar with the track.”

“It could be good practice for the big race coming up,” said Tang, “or you could do it just for the fun of racing. Either way I was heading into the town and I figured why not head in together?”

“So you need a ride?” said Mei.

“And to test out my Mei merchandise,” he said holding up the flags he’d made for her. He’d been working on a hat too but she didn’t need to know about that disaster until he managed to fix it.

She looked from his tiny Mei flag and back down to the phone. “I guess it could be fun.” Her smile returned and she bounced on her chair. “Yeah. It’ll be fun!”

Tang smiled as he closed his phone on the picture of his old professor standing next to the judges in a crowd shot. His old professor was not a racer. But his old professor’s spouse was on the panel of judges for this competition. Which could very easily mean he’d be there for support. And he would know the new passcode for the archives. If there was a new passcode. The trick would be to get him talking.

And he had just the conversation starter.

  “Sandy,” he said greeting the tall blue river demon. “Could I by any chance borrow one of your therapy cats for a little trip?”

“Where ya headed?” said Sandy. “Not all of them like long term travel.”

“Mei’s got a race in the next town over,” Tang explained.

“Say no more!” said Sandy cheerfully. “Therapy cats are excellent for pre-race jitters! This is the track she doesn’t know right? The one she signed up for last minute?”

“The very same,” said Tang.

“Ordinarily I’d say you should take Mo,” said Sandy. “He’s the best for differing travel, but he’s got a vet appointment. Don’t worry though, I’m sure one of the others would be willing to help.” He started shifting through his many cats, asking them if they’d like to accompany Mei.

Tang glanced about the room. He’d need a cat that was nondescript in case this went poorly, but it would need to be able to help Mei with said pre-race jitters. He should probably just leave this to Sandy, he knew his cats best and…he felt something brush up against his legs. A fluffy orange cat looked up at him, golden eyes meeting his. He reached down to pet it but it darted off, only to turn back around and look at him like Well? What are you waiting for?

If Tang did not know Mo, this would be strange cat behavior. But he followed the cat into the kitchen…oh it wanted food. “I don’t know where Sandy keeps the cat treats,” he said.

The cat gave him what can only be described as a dirty look before hopping on the counter, grabbing a something from a basket, and placing it down in front of Tang.

“Do you want me to play?” he said reaching down and picking up…Sandy’s wallet. The cat was a little pickpocket. The cat could fetch wallets, wallets which might contain things like passcodes to old archives. He met the gold eyes of the orange cat as it smirked, smirked!, at him. You ready for a heist? it seemed to say.

“Sandy,” he said lifting the cat up. “I think I found the perfect one.”

  Mei loved the cat. “Just look at its little green stripe!” she said. “It matches my jacket! He’s the perfect little mascot!” and the cat seemed to like her happily playing with him to calm herself down. He even put up with her dancing around with him in a fit of pre-race jitters and had greatly enjoyed the ride over.

“He sure loves to race!” she grinned, setting the cat on the front of her motorcycle. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait with Mr. Tang!”

Tang smiled as he accepted the cat and waved Mei over to the starting line. Then he joined the booth with the friends and family of the other competitors, right below the judges. Time for part one of the heist.

“Okay,” he whispered to the cat. “It’s all up to you.” The cat looked at him and flashed the smirk it seemed only to display around him. Then it darted up the stairs towards the judges box.

As Tang watched the race he tried to keep his focus on how Mei was doing and how well she was taking these curves despite being new to the track and not on how he’d just hitched his heist on a cat being able to steal the wallet of his old professor. But he held his ground.

Mei was baited into taking a turn wrong by a more experienced racer. The centripetal force caused her motorcycle to teeter. And Tang felt his anxiety well up inside him. He leaned forward. What if the cat was just a cat and he was imagining all of this? What if his professor saw him and realized his aim? What if Mei didn’t make the turn and it was all his fault for suggesting this fun family outing during a heist?

Mei threw herself to one side causing her whole motorcycle to right itself and zoomed ahead. Tang let out the breath he’d been holding into a cheer before falling back into the chair he didn’t realize he’d risen from.

Only to land on something. He shifted his weight to find a leather wallet. He glanced up to see the cat a few seats above him grinning at him like Why are you so surprised?

He turned this attention back to his find and carefully flipped the wallet open, credit cards, debit cards, ID, coupons, ah ha!

Slipped behind a faculty ID was a small piece of paper with a 1410 written on it. He smiled…

…and slipped the paper back into the wallet.

The cat batted him with its paws. Why did you do that?

“Less…” he glanced around at the cheering fans around him, “…obvious” he whispered.

The cat looked at him. Then it batted the wallet through the gaps in the stands until it fell to the ground below them.

“What did you do that for!” he whisper-shouted as the crowed around him roared.

The cat innocently licked its paw and rubbed its ears. Less obvious he could almost hear innocently repeated back at him.

It…was a good point. This way the professor would not even have to know he was here and the crime wouldn’t be traced to the disappearing wallet. He’d just assumed it had fallen from his pocket to the ground below. Tang could work with this.

Mei pushed the racer who had tricked her out of the track. Tang rose to cheer, loosing himself in the race. All he had to do now was wait and support his kid.

Mei placed bronze. Tang was thrilled. Bronze on a track she hadn’t even prepped for! He ran down the stands to give her a congratulatory hug. She excitedly jumped around the track, bonze metal swinging, and he found himself swept up in her joy. The cat decided to celebrate too by stealing his flag and running around waving it in the air and sticking it in the faces off all the other contestants.

Eventually though, Mei had to head back and grabbed the overexcited kitty. “You sure you don’t want a ride back?” she said.

“No I’ve still got some scholarly pursuits in this city,” said Tang. “Go enjoy your night of celebration with the others. Pigsy said he’d have the race playing at his store, so they’ll be ready and waiting for some celebratory partying.”

Pleased at the prospect of some fun at home, she headed off bundling the cat into the motorcycle. It was less then pleased and when it finally gave up on struggling it looked back at him with big sad eyes How could you abandon me partner? He ignored it. Between the cat’s sadness and Sandy’s wrath, he’d take the former.

He waved and turned back to head towards the bus station. A glimpse of golden shimmer caught his eye but he ignored it. He was on his own now.

It was up to him.

  The only person who noticed the cat turn into a hair upon its return to Sandy’s home was Mo. Mo, being used to this nonsense by now, just went about his day as normal.

  The bus ride to the next town over was uneventful and that gave him time to plan. He’d made it this far without drawing attention to himself, no point in loosing that now, so he bought an obnoxious sweatshirt that screamed college student to the skies and a hat he could pull over his eyes. Then he took off his glasses slipping them into a bland backpack and braced himself for the future headache.

He would like to say he looked the part. But after all these years all he could hope for was that he’d be mistaken for a professor or that no one got close enough to determine his age.

The school was laid out the same way he remembered it and it was quite easy to get into the library above the archives, find a book to read, and head down to the basement to use the reading nook set up there. Conveniently able to watch the comings and goings by the archive door, while looking the very picture of a diligent student seeking a quite study spot.  

So convincing in fact, actual college students had the exact same idea. There were four or five of them sitting in the nook. Well then, looks like this was a game of patience. Fortunately for him, while he had never attempted a heist before, he was quite the expert on waiting games.

Nearly five hours later most of the students had headed off towards the main floor and the remaining two were getting antsy. The silver one’s leg wouldn’t stop moving and the gold one was nervously glancing at the archive door, and then at him, and then at the exit.

Finally the gold one turned and whispered loudly to the silver one, “I don’t think he’s going to leave. Should we knock him out?”

“Can you do it quietly?” said the silver one “What if someone hears?”

Hmmmm. He could use this. “Gentleman,” he began. “It seems we are about the same business tonight. Perhaps an unlikely truce? I don’t ask what business you have with the archives, and you don’t ask what business I have.”

Silver and Gold looked at each other. “You just had to pick today for this” “Excuse me you said no one ever tries to rob places on weekdays!” “Well now we’re in the middle of another person’s heist!” “I know that I have ears.” “What do we do?” “We could team up” “No way! That always leads to betrayal!” “We could just continue like we never saw him?” “Yeah, we’ll just pretend we never saw each other.”

Tang took the opportunity to head over to the archive and type in the passcode. The door slid open but the noise caught the attention of Gold and Silver and they darted in behind him. He’d hoped they wouldn’t notice but as they wandered away from the books and over to the museum pieces he figured he might as well just get what he came for.

Even after all these years, he still remembered where the band-tightening spell had been. Reaching into the vault he withdrew the fragile paper from its spot among the rare books. Carefully he put on his glasses to read the lines, he couldn’t risk destroying the wrong paper, that would mean the loss of a priceless piece of history. Even this one was a priceless window into the past an…bang!

He could hear Gold and Silver arguing behind him. Something about not being able to carry all of whatever they were after. Gold and Silver two thieves that could easily walk over here, read the spell, and be able to hurt his boy. He took of his glasses and slipped them into his backpack, removing what had been in there before: a lighter.

It was a tad old fashioned but it did the trick. The flick of a cap and the paper burned to nothing in his hands.

Then the fire alarms went off.

Tang slammed the door to the books room closed so they wouldn’t get damaged by the sprinklers and sprinted for the exit. Gold and Silver followed hot on his heals but couldn’t quite keep up with the five large objects in their arms. Tang dove thought the door but they weren’t going to make it. So Gold dropped what he was carrying grabbed Silver and leapt through the door with a hint of magic.

They barreled into Tang but he barely registered that they were still holding on to a calabash. Instead is focus was on sprinting to the exit.

He burst from the building into a massive panicking crowd of college students rushing about like someone had yelled there would be free food but failed to give directions.

He could use this. He let himself match the frantic paces of the students and let the crowd provide cover to slip through an old hole in the fence towards the dorms. One he’d used many a time as a student late for class. He was pretty sure it had a gap in the security system too, as it had never been fixed. So he slipped through and stepped to the side, throwing off his college sweatshirt and his hat and pulling out his glasses.

Tang walked to a bus stop and took the next bus home. It was an uneventful ride.

  That night the robbery was all over the news. He watched the broadcast while eating noodles at Pigsy’s shop. “While no clear leads have been found. It is suspected that two of the culprits appeared in this photo taken moments after the crime.” Tang looked up to see fuzzy photos of Gold and Silver sprinting into the crowd. “A third accomplish is suspected, but while discarded clothes were found matching the image above, it is unclear if its tied to the case or not as all footage from the heist itself has been replaced with footage of this bird.” A video played of golden bird with magnificent red and green feathers preening in front of a security camera while a loud bang could be heard in the background. “Donors to the archive, including the Long family, have called an investigation of the security …”

Tang smiled smugly to himself. Nothing like a job well done.

[floatingbook]

On names and naming

- Reading: Tales of the Lavender Menace by Karla Jay

Discussed during a consciousness-raising meeting:

“For instance, many of us grappled together and by ourselves with the implications of naming. The most obvious manifestation of this power is the fact that in most countries women bear the surname of their fathers and then of their husbands. A woman “loses” her name when she marries, but in fact she has never had her own name. only her father’s. Worse still is the possibility of not having a father because to be “illegitimate” is to lack the imprimatur of patriarchal approval.” p. 55

As a woman, you have your father’s or your husband’s name, you’re dispossessed of all your matriarchal origins. It also is very likely that your patriarchal origins are a lie—and I do not mean this as a critic of the women in our ancestry who had children who did not get the name of their biological father, but as a critic of this despicable tradition. Men do a fraction of the work and yet get to brand a newborn as their own, as if the woman giving birth was no more than a possession.

We all know what weights names carry. There’s no denying it. Some names get you despised, some get you laughed at, some drown you in their commonness. They used to reveal who you were: names were carved out of professions (take “Smith”, “Steward”, “Butler”, “Cook”, or “Lefevre/Lefebvre” in French, “Mercier” as well) or out of places of dwelling (e.g. “Hall”, “Brooks” in English; “Dupont”, “Dubois” in French). But that meaning is fast lost with physical and social mobility, with traumas and rebellions, with the pace of society.

“Many of the women in Redstockings changed their names in rebellion against the patriarchy, often choosing to use their mother’s names. In addition to being a symbolic gesture, adopting a nom de guerre made it just a tad more difficult for the government to figure out who we were and where our paltry bank accounts were stowed when it came time to incarcerate us. As much as I wanted to drop my patronymic, however, I wasn’t eager to claim my mother’s name. Instead I decided to substitute “Jay”, my middle initial, for my last name. // When I tried out my new name, Karla Jay, it felt immediately like a more accurate representation of who I was. I realized changing my name was not only about challenging the patriarchy—it was also about untangling my own identity from my family history.”

Changing your name, starting with a brand new one, is a way to give yourself a clean slate. It’s a statement: I don’t want to belong to this family, I am not one of your possession. It’s a form of rebellion against the tradition that hands out last names. The point is to get rid of the branding connotation of the last name (either inherited from the father or taken in marriage) that turns a woman into just another piece of furniture that makes up the wealth of the men in her life.

“I understood for the first time that I had, in fact, always detested my birth name, Karla Jayne Berlin. Well, not all of it. Karla seemed to me an original first name, and I felt comfortable with it. […] His [Karla Jay’s father] first fought was to name me Gale because I had  been born in a blizzard. My mother objected, so he chose my name from a list of freighters he spotted in the shipping news that he read every day in conjunction with his work. I’m lucky, I suppose, that a ship with a name like the Brunhilde didn’t dock then. Fortunately, the Karla Dane steamed into or out of port the week I was born, and my father was determined that would be my name. My mother persuaded him to change my middle name to Jayne instead of Dane, with the addition of an elegant Y.

But if I liked my first name, I hated the surname Berlin. For one thing, I’m not German. My ancestors came from the finest shtetls in England, Austria, and Ukraine. My paternal grandfather was from England, and for a long time I supposed that he had been assigned the name of a city when he entered the United States; immigration agents had a way back then of altering what they considered unpronounceable names. Years later, I discovered that my grandfather had changed his name himself. […]

I wasn’t particularly fond of my middle name either; people often assumed it was hyphenated to my first name. My mother and even Jessica, my best friend, called me Karla Jayne to get my attention when they were angry. As far back as I could remember, I had used my middle initial in place of Jayne. But I did like the “Jay” part. Some of my fond association with the word was based on pleasant times in summer camp. During my first summer there I was only five. I was placed in J-Bunk—probably an abbreviation for Junior Bunk—a place for children considered too young to be away from home for two months. J-Bunk was my first taste of freedom, a fun-filled life in the Catskills. Furthermore, Jay rhymes with “gay”.” p. 55-56

First names are given to us by our parents, who can be short-sighted, equipped with a taste that does not intersect with ours, or just unconscious of what a certain name entails. First names both mean a lot and nothing at all, and by that I mean that a first name is attached to you yourself first and foremost. Its main vocation is to designate you personally, to make you as individual, separated, specific in your existence, as opposed to the surname, which marks the bearer as part of a whole, the family, the bloodline, and as a woman a part of the possessions of a man. So it’s easier to grow into your first name, to make room into it for all the facets of your existence, than it is to get rid of the yoke of the surname. Hence the question, what to do with these patriarchal, misogynistic surnames?

Should we shun the surnames we were born or married into? What do we replace them with, then? Something that sounds nice to us? Something that holds a personal meaning? Something that describe an occupation we hold, a place we settled in? Do we choose a system that allows for the tracing of the matrilineal line? But then how do we agree collectively on a system, so that it is lisible and understandable? Where do we find the coherence? Do we even need the coherence?

“Changing my name was also a way of to “divorce” my parents, to let them know that I had never accepted them in that role. As children my brother and I both fantasized that we had been adopted.” p. 56

Again, a rupture with patriarchy and with abusive parents. We have surnames because there are too many humans on this planet to be able to identify them easily with just one name. Do we need those surnames to keep us sequestrated with our parents? Or could they just be changed to something like “of” followed by the name of the city we live in? Rejecting the surnames we get from birth is also a rejection of the obligatory love and respect we are supposed to feel for our parents, who can sometimes be undeserving of them.

“I didn’t change my name legally until 1978. I felt that it would be a paradox for me to petition a male court to change a name that patriarchal law had imposed on me in the first place. But after I had co-edited three anthologies as Karla Jay, only old friends, relatives, and old people at work new that I had any other name. I felt fragmented and decided to hire a lawyer to execute a legal name change.” p. 57

We live in a society, not in a vacuum. Sometimes we have to go through processes we find tasteless or distasteful, because we still need them to be understood, to be perceived by others around us. Here is information on the process in France (Site officiel de l’administration française).

“I have now spent a full three-fifths of my life as Karla Jay. In the rare instances when I run into someone from my childhood or high school who still calls me Karla Berlin, I have the distinct feeling that they have mistaken me for someone else.” p. 57

So who gets to do the naming? Are our names things that should be gifted from us by our parents? By our mothers only? Should every daughter get to name herself, when she feels or knows she has found a name for herself? When she has made name for herself?

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Europatitan eastwoodi

By Stolp 

Etymology: European titan

First Described By: Fernández-Baldor et al., 2017

Classification: Dinosauromorpha, Dinosauriformes, Dracohors, Dinosauria, Saurischia, Eusaurischia, Sauropodomorpha, Bagualosauria, Plateosauria, Massopoda, Sauropodiformes, Anchisauria, Sauropoda, Gravisauria, Eusauropoda, Neosauropoda, Macronaria, Titanosauriformes, Somphospondyli

Status: Extinct

Time and Place: Around 125 million years ago, at the boundary between the Barremian and Aptian ages of the Early Cretaceous 

Europatitan is known only from the Castrillo de la Reina Formation in Spain. 

Physical Description: Europatitan would have looked a lot like other basal titanosauriformes such as Brachiosaurus. The neck vertebrae of Europatitan are especially elongate and would have been heavily pneumatized by air sacs. Although not all of the neck is known, these indicate it would have been extremely long, similar to Giraffatitan or Sauroposeidon. The body of Europatitan would have been quite wide, as its ribs indicate, and its tail fairly short. The only limb elements of Europatitan known are a couple metacarpals, but even these are enough to show it had robust forelimbs. The head of Europatitan is unknown except for a tooth, but it would have likely been similar to that of Giraffatitan. 

By Scott Reid

Diet: As a sauropod, Europatitan would have been herbivorous. Its teeth were spoon-shaped, unlike the pencil-shaped teeth of diplodocoids and titanosaurs, indicating it probably had a different diet than them (which would have been useful to avoid competition with the contemporary Demandasaurus). Based on neck size, their target diet would have likely been at the tallest parts of trees.

Behavior: Europatitan would have spent much of its time eating leaves at the top of the forest tree-line as far as its neck could reach, and then moving to the next available spot for foliage. Like many sauropods, Europatitan likely spent time with others of its genera in order to reduce predation on the more vulnerable members of the group (such as sick, older, or younger individuals). While we don’t have any direct evidence for whether or not Europatitan actively cared for its young or not, the basal behavior shared among all extant archosaurs (crocodiles and birds) is some degree of parental care. 

By José Carlos Cortés 

Ecosystem: Europatitan’s fossils were found in the Castrillo de la Reina Formation, which in the Cretaceous would have been a floodplain, with a river flowing in from the southwest. The Castrillo de la Reina environment was also home to the rebbachisaurid Demandasaurus, the earliest rhabdodont, other indeterminate ornithopods, theropods, and the lizard Arcanosaurus. We don’t know how many of these directly lived alongside Europatitan, though, as the specific site that Europatitan was found at has only yielded theropod teeth and fragments of an iguanodont. 

By Ripley Cook 

Other: Fun fact: the type species of Europatitan, E. eastwoodi, is named for actor Clint Eastwood. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, which he starred in, was filmed near where they found the fossil.

~ By Henry Thomas and Blaire Fei

Sources Under the Cut 

Dieudonné, Paul-Emile; Tortosa, Thierry; Torcida Fernández-Baldor, Fidel; Canudo, José Ignacio; Díaz-Martínez, Ignacio (2016-06-22). Farke, Andrew A. (ed.). "An Unexpected Early Rhabdodontid from Europe (Lower Cretaceous of Salas de los Infantes, Burgos Province, Spain) and a Re-Examination of Basal Iguanodontian Relationships". PLOS ONE. 11 (6): e0156251.

Fernández-Baldor, Fidel Torcida; Canudo, José Ignacio; Huerta, Pedro; Montero, Diego; Suberbiola, Xabier Pereda; Salgado, Leonardo (September 2011). "Demandasaurus darwini , a New Rebbachisaurid Sauropod from the Early Cretaceous of the Iberian Peninsula". Acta Palaeontologica Polonica. 56 (3): 535–552.

Fernández-Baldor, F.T.; Canudo, J.I.; Huerta, P.; Moreno-Azanza, M.; Montero, D. (2017). "Europatitan eastwoodi, a new sauropod from the lower Cretaceous of Iberia in the initial radiation of somphospondylans in Laurasia". PeerJ. 5: e3409.

Houssaye, Alexandra; Rage, Jean-Claude; Torcida Fernández-Baldor, Fidel; Huerta, Pedro; Bardet, Nathalie; Pereda Suberbiola, Xabier (April 2013). "A new varanoid squamate from the Early Cretaceous (Barremian–Aptian) of Burgos, Spain". Cretaceous Research. 41: 127–135.

[superthatguy62]

FF3 Fun Facts of the Whenever: Spoony Bard Edition

In the Final Fantasy III remake, the Bard class is gained from the Water Crystal, just as it was in the Famicom version. Naturally, the remake was going to move it to the Bard-centric village of Duster and even had a little subplot involving Refia becoming a Bard’s muse.

The story begins in Duster, where a (admittedly rather spoony) bard is begins calling out to Refia, deducing that she is his muse. Refia doesn’t quite get the concept of a muse The Bard explains that the muse is the goddess of Knowledge, of Art, who inspires poets. The Bard is on the cusp of composing a new melody and asks her to stay, but Refia (apparently believing he’s making fun of her) leaves instead.

Refia later reconvenes with her fellow Warriors. She finds the bards words a bit overzealous, particularly calling her a goddess rather than a princess or a damsel. Ingus notes that people have different tastes, so Refia likely was a goddess as far as the bard was concerned. He asks if she should've said something sincere back, which causes Refia to say that she’s not a poet.

Luneth suggests that she just go along with it, since she just has to be there to inspire him. Refia accuses the boys of trying to make fun of her. Arc assures her that they’re not and suggests a gift in response to the poem (?). Arc decides that if Refia was an object, she’d be a Maiden’s Kiss or Madara’s Lyre. Luneth retorts that Refia is more like an Ottershroom or a Tonfa (which is interesting as Nunchucks, including the Tonfa, exist in the OG game, but not in the remake).  Refia is naturally unamused, but Ingus assures her that there was heart in the bard’s feelings. Refia decides that she’ll think about it.

There’s this section where an unnamed speaker talks about how they didn’t expect Refia to be so nice or like them. It might be the bard after the whole scenario, but it’s not clear.

In any case, Refia acknowledges that having someone like you isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s not good to be so shy or obstinate. This amuses Luneth who mutters that it’s surprising that Refia is so upfront. Refia gets set off, but Arc turns the tables by claiming Luneth’s shy and saying that he could take a page out of her book. Luneth’s embarrassed, of course, but he says he’ll try.

Refia finally returns to the bard and gives him something (one of the items Arc mentions?). The Bard assumes that Refia hates him, but Refia actually apologizes. The Bard accepts the apology and promises to write a poem about his overflowing emotions, in hope that they will some day reach her.

It seems like his response varies depending on what Refia gives him, as in another scene, he’s overjoyed at what he was given, having previously thought that Refia hated him. Refia apologizes for not hearing him out earlier. The Bard feels his muse come down from high and indirectly asks for Refia’s name.

Rather than try to describe the poem, I will post both versions: One is as it is written in-game (in-case anyone reads Japanese and wants to try their hand at it) and one as translated by DeepL:

…桜桃のくちびると　ばらのほお 　うるわしき乙女　その名はレフィア 　その内よりあふれし白き光は 　精��のうすい羽のようにやわらかく 　そのまなざしは　するどき刃のごとく 　闇をつらぬき　真実を見い出す 　未来に幸いあれ　花の乙女 　前途に祝福あれ　光の乙女

...the lips of the cherry peach and the cheeks of the rose. 　The maiden with the bewitching spirit is called Lephiya. 　The white light that overflows from within 　Soft as the spirit's light feathers 　The way you look at me is like a blade at times. 　Through the darkness, we find the truth. 　Blessed future, maiden of flowers. 　Blessings on the road ahead, maiden of light.

Refia’s initial reaction is subdued (though what she’s feeling exactly, is unclear) but after Luneth apologizes to the bard saying that Refia has a habit of not being meek, this prompts her into a more sincere response. The Bard is thrilled as beans to be complimented by his muse and he vows to continue working on poetry. As thanks, he teaches the party poetry, making the bard job the only job not to be gained from a crystal or crystal fragment.

And thus is the story of Refia and the Spoony Bard.

[wetlapraswrites]

Still Alive

My first ever fic so please go easy on me ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story or any part of the Walking Dead, this is just for fun and entertainment only.

Rated T. Warnings: Gore, implied major character death, some language, cannibalism.

This was the VERY FIRST fanfiction I ever wrote...ANDDDD there is a part two on the way!!!!!!!!!!!!

Daryl couldn't describe with any words what it felt like to set eyes on Carol after all this time, he thought he may never see her again after Rick had banished her from the prison community. There she was, standing there with his crossbow slung over her left shoulder.

The moment his eyes met hers, his mind took over his body and before he even realized it, he was running towards her with tears of joy pooling in the corners of his big blue eyes. Her smell, oh how he remembered that now as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his body and lifting her from the ground slightly, his hand ruffling the soft hair on the nape of her neck.

As the sun began to set and the group began to make camp for the night, Carol noticed something seemed very off with Daryl, he really didn't seem to be his usual self. The adrenaline of their initial embrace seemingly fading away and a terrible exhaustion was seeping through fresh cracks in Daryl's tough outer shell. Little chinks in his armor that he would never admit were there, but Carol could see them just fine and she certainly wasn't afraid to point them out to Daryl when the need arose.

He looked completely shattered, his movements were slow, as if he were dragging a heavy weight and he was unusually scared and jumpy. Daryl was never scared, the whole group knew something was wrong with Daryl, very wrong. Everyone knew better than to approach Daryl Dixon with concerns about his wellbeing, all apart from one that is, the omnipresent Carol.

Maybe it was the trauma of what he and the group had just been through, after all the sight of other humans killing and preparing other humans for food and being seconds away from becoming a cannibal's meal yourself would be enough to shatter even the most resilient souls. Daryl also blamed himself for Beth being snatched away by the mysterious car not too long ago. A girl he had once seen as a ditzy, dumb blonde, who had well and truly come into her own as the apocalypse had progressed. Proving herself to be quite strong and capable, so much so it considerably impressed Daryl. He remembered the meek, shy teenager she had been when they first arrived at her family's farm.

They had all fought so hard to reach terminus, those signs promising sanctuary luring the fragmented group in like frustrated moths that had been denied the sight of a flame for too long. Every day the journey towards Terminus posed many new threats, from the numerous walkers lingering round every corner, to dehydration and exposure their lives were never out of danger for a second along the way. Everyone had such high hopes of finding sanctuary, a place to start again after the fall of the prison at the hands of the Governor. Little did anyone know how these hopes would be dashed in such a horrific manner, one almost unimaginable before the dead began to walk around attacking the living and the world as humanity knew it had most certainly come to an end. One could even say that the things they saw in Terminus were worse than the dead walking around killing the living, worse than pretty much any conceivable nightmare scenario.

Daryl sat alone, his back against a tree and his elbows resting on his knees, a cigarette in desperate need of a good flick hanging loosely between his lips, he appeared lost in thought. Carol got up from the tree she had been sat against and cautiously approached him, 'what the hell happened to you in there?' she asked a rather fragile looking Daryl in a low, calm voice. 'Doesn't matter' he growled, 'ain't nothing you can do about it now' he replied, stubbing out the butt of his cigarette on a stone next to the tree. 'No I know that she replied but I'm worried about you, you don't look to well'. 'I'm fine!' Daryl snarled back at her. 'Well you look far from fine to me' Carol shot back, although her voice was still quiet and unusually calm, as she didn't want to agitate Daryl even more.

Something rustled a bush nearby, Daryl almost jumped out of his skin in anticipation of a walker or ten stumbling around about to invade their makeshift camp, or worse, those freaks from Terminus, he was somewhat relieved when a large rat scuttled out of the bush and away into the dark woods, but very disappointed in himself for having such a reaction. Daryl Dixon wasn't afraid of anything, period.

He was clearly far from alright and Carol knew it, after all she knew him well and well enough to know when something was wrong. He was obviously terrified and his reaction to the rat rustling the bushes proved that beyond doubt. There had been no time for sleeping or any kind of rest during their time in captivity at Terminus. This, Combined with the battle to escape the grips of both their cannibal captors and the hoard of walkers drawn to the disarray had left everyone exhausted and on edge, far more so than what everyone now classed as normal.

'Come here, come and sit with me' she demanded, holding out her hand to him in a gesture of kindness that Daryl wasn't used to. He appeared resigned by this point.

The black darkness of the night felt suffocating, and this combined with sheer exhaustion disoriented him considerably. He placed his head in his hands and sighed before taking Carol up on her offer of not spending the night alone feeling like he did. He slowly tried to stand up but his exhausted body was working against him. He whimpered and slowly sighed, suddenly he felt very weak as the last tiny remnants of energy deserted his tired body, he swayed on his feet as he tried to stand up straight, stars beginning to flood his vision. He reached for the tree he had been sat against to steady himself. Carol was quick to intervene, jumping up from where she sat, hastily arriving at Daryl's side, she gently wrapped her arm around his middle, holding him steady. 'Ugh' Daryl grunted as everything span around him and his body struggled to remain upright. 'Daryl, you're okay, I've got you, it's okay' Carol replied quickly as Daryl struggled to get his bearings and regain his balance.

He hated the fact Carol was having to physically help him stand after all he'd done and been through. 'Fuckin' pussy' he cussed at himself silently, damn near passing out from shock and exhaustion really wasn't what Dixons did.

Carol lay a rather tatty blanket out next to her and helped Daryl lay down, gently resting his head on a soft coat she had hastily fashioned into a pillow as he lay next to Carol. Daryl didn't want to give in to the exhaustion, he was afraid to sleep after the things he had just been subjected to inside Terminus. He felt too vulnerable and exposed and he HATED feeling like that. He had to stay awake and keep watch in case any of the psychos from Terminus came back, it was his job to look after everyone, not be looked after. 'How are you feeling now' Carol asked. ' Feel very drained and ache all over' the tired hunter growled groggily. 'Want to talk about what happened in there?' Carol calmly asked as she sat against the tree with Daryl laying on his back next to her, the palm of her hand resting on his shoulder. 'Nah, not now' Daryl replied, his voice seemed weak and he was struggling to keep awake. He hadn't seen Carol for too long, he wanted to just lay there and look at her but he couldn't keep his eyes open another second. Carol moved her hand from his shoulder and rested her arm by her side, Daryl took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, finally letting his heavy eyelids fall closed. The world around him began to fade out as his exhausted body drifted into the dark abyss of sleep.

There he was bound and gagged on his knees in front of the trough in the slaughterhouse after being dragged from the Boxcar with Rick, Bob and Glen, awaiting his fate as he watched four others die one by one, smashed in the back of the head and their throats slit by Gareth's men, the boom of the flash grenade still resounding in his head. Gareth slunk around in front of the trough like a horror movie psychopath just before he brutally executed his victim. Daryl's entire life appeared before his eyes with each sickening thud of the bat hitting the skulls of his fellow survivors, a blur of hunting trips with Merle in the beautiful Georgia mountains to the savage crack of his drunken mess of a father's belt against as his skin, then her, Carol, the reason he had fought so hard to survive some days. Even when he felt hope deserting him, the image of her in the front of his mind had driven his already well-seasoned survival instincts. He struggled in a futile attempt to free himself but it was no use. He felt sick as blood seeped down the drainage hole in the trough, blood that was soon to mix with his.

He looked up and saw corpses in various stages of being prepared for food and imagined himself being savagely dismembered in the same way. His mind shifted again to the absent Carol and how much he loved her. What he thought was his last thought, he'd survived the apocalypse just to die at the hands of Gareth and his band of insane cannibal freaks like a goddamned animal, slowly drifted through his mind. All he saw was blood, blood, filth and death, the unbearable stench of death hung heavily in the air. The clack of butcher knives resonating in his ears.

Gareth suddenly whistled to one of his cronies 'bring her out!' he shouted. A female figure was dragged out of one of the side rooms by two other men, a canvas bag over her head and her hands bound behind her back with rope. Gareth let out a sadistic, evil laugh as one of the men tore the bag off of her head. Daryl violently grunted and struggled as his eyes met those of a defeated Carol, resigned to her fate. A huge sob balled in his dry throat, he struggled as best he could against his bindings, but to no avail. Gareth approached the two men, who released Carol to him with a violent shove that caused her to stumble towards him, and without a word, he suddenly pulled out a large knife and slit her throat right there in front of the bound and gagged group.

Blood gushed from the wound, and Daryl watched helplessly as her lifeless body collapsed to the ground. His senses deserted him, all the breath he had left was suddenly sucked from his body as more blood pooled out of Carol's lifeless body right there in front of him. 'Haha, was she yoursss' Gareth taunted after witnessing Daryl's desperate struggle. 'We caught the stupid bitch outside the fence trying to blow up one of our propane tanks with a bottle rocket, must have been some half assed attempt to save your sorry asses. Hope quickly deserted him and he waited to join Carol in the darkness of death. He was screaming inside, totally unable to comprehend the horror unfolding around him. Blood, blood, blood everywhere, dismembered body parts, more blood, human entrails hanging from huge meat hooks suspended from the ceiling, NOOO he screamed inside, this simply could not be happening...NO NOO NOOOOO...

'Daryl!' a familiar voice shook him awake as he somehow found the strength to suddenly pull himself upright, yelling NOOOO!, gasping and shaking. Carol felt as if she'd only been asleep for about five minutes before being woken suddenly by Daryl thrashing and whimpering. ''Daryl it's okay, you're okay, it was just a dream, a bad dream, you're safe now' 'It's only me, Carol' she almost whispered, placing her hand gently on Daryl's back and slowly running it down his spine and back toward his neck. You're dead, you're dead! I was there, they died...they're all dead!, he killed you, he killed you!', Daryl shot back, still only half awake, his eyes wild with terror and his body shaking like a leaf caught in the autumn breeze. It was very late now, the camp was in darkness, the small fire they had lit long since gone out and the rest of the group were asleep. 'No, I'm alive, Daryl, it was just a dream' Carol whispered. The pitch darkness scared Daryl in a way it never had before, he could not remember ever feeling so afraid, not even when Merle had left him alone at the hands of his bastard drunken father or that time he got lost in the woods for nine days as a kid. He was not afraid of anything, let alone the dark. This felt different, very different, a whole new evil that very few humans had ever stumbled upon before.

He could clearly see Gareth and his men lurking in the woods, waiting for the group to all be asleep so they could finish what they started. Daryl felt cold, physically and emotionally, and he shuddered against the cool night air. Carol quietly rummaged in the bags and managed to find another blanket without further disturbing the others and wrapped it around Daryl. He trembled a little as she gently tucked a strand of his rapidly growing hair behind his ear, images of the nightmare he'd just had still too fresh in his mind. 'Shh, just be still, it's ok, those people can't hurt you now' she whispered. 'What happened in there was truly awful but it's over now, we're all alive, we're together again and we're all safe'.

Daryl lay still with his head in her lap, she slowly stroked his long, soft brown hair and reassured him it was ok and he was safe to sleep now. 'Get some rest' she whispered. Daryl closed his eyes again, letting himself be lulled by Carol's soft, slow breathing and gentle warmth, with that and the soothing sensation of her fingers running through his hair, he finally drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep. Carol stayed awake until she was sure Daryl was asleep, then she closed her eyes too and finally both were asleep.

Carol woke to the sunlight shining down on them through the trees, Daryl was still asleep , she looked down at him and thought how peaceful he now looked compared to when she was first reunited with him. She shifted a little, Daryl stirred, 'morning' she whispered. She placed her hand against Daryl's back as he slowly sat up, stretching out his arms in an attempt to wake up some more. Rick walked cautiously over to the pair, and asked 'what happened last night? I heard him yelling in the night, is he ok?' 'yeah she replied softly but he's pretty shaken by what went on in that awful place.'How do you feel today hun?' asked Carol, Daryl replied 'still totally freaked out by it all to be honest' Carol held his hand and he explained that he could not rid himself of the awful things he had seen and been subjected to in the Terminus compound. It didn't look like Daryl was alone in his state of shock either, the daylight revealed the looks of disbelief and horror on the faces of most of the others too. Daryl was already exhausted before this ordeal, he didn't get even a quarter of the amount of sleep his body needed. This had allowed he shock and trauma to completely envelop him, culminating in the awful night he'd just had.

'You're safe now, we will never let another one of those imbeciles hurt any of us again' said Rick. 'We all went through hell in there, you know you can talk about it with any of us anytime right?' ' yeah I know' growled Daryl as Rick slowly walked back towards the others thinking it best to allow Carol to help Daryl using that magic touch she seemed to have whenever it came to helping anyone in any kind of distress. Carol was the only one who'd ever really got through the tough hide that enveloped Daryl's psyche.

Daryl still felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically, but he was so grateful for the few hours rest he did manage to get thanks to Carol's presence. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Carol, 'thank you' he said slowly. 'What for exactly ?' Carol replied with a playful tone, 'helping me last night, I don't think I've ever felt anything like that before' 'no need to thank me hun, it's the least I could do, you've all been through something nobody should ever have to face'.

'I thought we were all dead' Daryl said slowly, staring at the ground, tears pooling in the corners of his brilliant blue eyes. He began to tremble again, as his mind recalled what he had seen in Terminus, and the bleak thought that one of the screams he had heard inside the compound may have belonged to Beth. 'I thought I'd never see any of you again', his voice starting to crack slightly with a degree of emotion he seldom liked to show, but he couldn't help it by this point. If there was one thing Daryl loathed it was this kind of desolate feeling of helplessness. 'I can still see the bodies, the blood... I couldn't do anything to help them' Daryl shook again, a tear snaking down his pale cheek.

He remembered the cries of anguish coming from the containers and boxcars that dotted the Terminus compound. I can still hear them screaming and crying out, I couldn't help them, I couldn't... Daryl trailed off, shaking again. 'You helped get us all out Daryl, we're alive' Carol said quietly as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. 'We will find Beth, I walked through a lot of that compound and saw no signs Beth was ever there', Carol said to Daryl. 'I found all your weapons and possessions but there was nothing there that belonged to Beth'.

Daryl turned to Carol, placed his large rough hand onto the back of her head and pulled her closer, his lips met hers, his tongue slowly parting them and meeting hers as their lips both locked into a slow, passionate kiss. For a few seconds their tongues danced with one another before their lips eventually parted and Daryl spoke. 'Thank you Carol and I really mean that, thank you for being here, thank you for everything you have done for me and the entire group', Daryl said in a low, gruff voice. 'It's fine Daryl, I care very much for all of you, and you, I love you'. I love you too replied Daryl, 'nobody and nothing will ever take you away from me'.

The end.

[shoujocentral]

Symphogear G- Sequelitis Strikes Again...

So, after watching the first season of Symphogear, finishing it in three days, and being hooked in an instant, naturally I was pumped to get to the next season to see what they would do with the plot, what new characters we'd get to see, how the old characters would be expanded upon, and how much more awesome the fights would get. And... would it be too harsh to say that it basically failed on most of that criteria?

Okay, yeah it would. But still, the reason this review took so long to come out is because I found this season to be a chore to get through. I still had a lot of fun, don't get me wrong, but it was a far cry from the excitement and investment I experienced in the first season. Where exactly did Symphogear G go wrong? Well, let's dive into that now.

Once again, this review will be spoiler-free for any who haven't seen the show yet.

Plot:

What is Senshi Zesshou Symphogear G about?

After the events of the first season, Hibiki, Tsubasa and Chris along with the DRS are working with the esteemed Dr. Ver to preserve Solomon's Cane, a device that Finé used to summon Noise. However, it is soon revealed that the doctor is evil, and working with a terrorist organization known as Federal Institutes of Sacrist (FIS), and with Solomon's Cane in their possession, they now have control of the Noise.

On top of that, three new Symphogear users appear, only they are working on the side of FIS. The leaders of the three, Maria Cadenzavna Eve, claims to be the new reincarnation of Finé's soul, and she also possesses a dark version of Gungnir, Hibiki's Symphogear. With such a formidable ally, FIS demands that the world's governments relinquish all control to them, lest they unleash the Noise upon them in an all-out assault.

How will our heroes stop this new global threat? And why are a group of Gear users working for the enemy?

At first, I thought the plot had a lot of intrigue and potential. While the first episode didn't grab me by the balls like Season 1 Episode 1 did, I was still interested to learn about the villainous Gear users and how the enemy's nefarious schemes would unfold. Unfortunately, if I could describe the execution of said plot in a single word, it would be "unbalanced."

Basically, the first half of G had great character and plot setup, but I found the fights somewhat lacking. Then, by episode 8, the fights had returned to their usual epicness and badassery, but the plot and characters had taken a turn for the worst.

Whereas Season 1 felt like it was continuous building and building with each episode, stuff just... happens in Symphogear G. Characters motivations are set up, but either forgotten or completely changed halfway through the show. It honestly felt like the writers were making G's story up as they went along.

The issues I had with Season 1's story are present here as well, in that the villain's motivation is incredibly confusing and not made 100% clear until the last couple of episodes. FIS's main goal is to save humanity from the Moon, which will soon crash into the Earth due to the damage it endured from Finé. However, they go about this by... killing people? I understand innocent bloodshed is necessary in most evil "save the world" schemes, but is this really the best way to convince the rest of the world that you're here to help?

Either I'm just really dumb, or Symphogear just isn't very good at explaining things.

Another thing that bothered me about this season was the usage of Swan Songs. In Symphogear G, there's not one, but TWO methods that allow Gear users to sing their Swan Songs without dying. "Tension? Consequences? WhAt ThE hElL aRe ThOsE?!"

However, the worst part about this confused and structurally unbalanced plot is how it affects the character development.

Characters:

I'm going to cover the three lead characters and Miku very briefly (cause there honestly isn't much to talk about) so we can discuss the new characters in more detail.

Remember how I praised Hibiki in Season 1 for being a flat character done right? Well, in G, the writers attempted to give Hibiki somewhat of an arc by having the villains call her a "hypocrite." At first, I was intrigued as to what they meant by this. Then, there was a point where Hibiki went Berserk again, and I figured "Oh, they mean that because she can't control her Gear, she's a danger to the people she's trying to protect!" Nope. Once Hibiki returns to normal, she never goes Berserk again, and her plot becomes about her dealing with the Gungnir fragments slowly killing her from the inside. Soooo... why is she a hypocrite again? An excellent question! ...that's never answered. Weak.

I wasn't the biggest fan of Tsubasa in Season 1, finding her over-the-top EDGE a bit too much for my taste. However, I will give credit that she at least had an arc. In G, she does absolutely nothing. She has no arc, no motivation, and contributes nothing to the plot (thankfully her strict, yet compassionate personality is left untouched). I initially thought she would have some conflict with Maria, given that the two had a bit of a standoff in Episode 1, with Tsubasa angry at Maria for possessing Kanade's Gear. Much like Hibiki's Berserk Mode, though, this conflict was never expanded upon or brought up again, relegating Tsubasa to a glorified background character.

Chris was my favorite character in Season 1, with her fiery tsundere personality and redemption arc. But much like Tsubasa, she suffered the fate of being pushed to the sidelines. Chris started out in a tough spot, transferring into Hibiki and Tsubasa's school and bearing little to no social skills. This new environment throws her for a loop, especially when a group of her classmates try to befriend her. I interpreted this as Chris not only struggling with social anxiety due to her hatred of people in Season 1, but also still harboring some guilt over her actions and not feeling worthy of friendship or care whatsoever. Okay, fair enough.

Well guess what else the writers forgot about?! 🤪

And alas, let's talk about Miku...... Oh my sweet little angel, what have they done to you??? Miku was the heart and soul of Season 1; she was Hibiki's emotional support; her Sun that warmed her whenever she felt dark. In G, she's just useless. The writers, like Hibiki, try to give her an arc (that doesn't start till episode 6...) where she wants to protect Hibiki from the Gungnir killing her. The way the writers execute this promising arc, however, is nothing short of insulting. Long story short, she fails to protect Hibiki in any single way. Instead, Hibiki ends up being the one still protecting her. Good job, Symphogear G.

With all that out of the way, I can FINALLY move onto something more positive. While I may not like what G did with the protagonists, the same cannot be said for the villains. These people are what made this season enjoyable to me.

Maria Candenzavna Eve

Maria is objectively the best character of the season. I really don't see how anyone could argue otherwise. She has a gut-wrenching backstory, a clearly defined motivation, and every action she takes, while not always the most logical, makes sense to how she is feeling at the time.

Maria's sister, Serena, who was also a Gear user, used her Swan Song to save FIS from an out-of-control experiment. Immediately following this, the scientists berated the deceased Serena for destroying something they had put so much work in. Maria was enraged by the idea that they would do this to someone, a child nonetheless, who had just sacrificed her life for them. However, instead of retaliating and seeking revenge on FIS for this, Maria dedicates her actions to protecting human lives so that Serena's sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. And unlike the rest of FIS, she actually goes out of her way to avoid killing anyone! Of course, she eventually learns the hard way that saving everyone may be an impossibility...

Also, she gets one of the most adrenaline-pumping and yet emotional fights, accompanied by her kickass battle song, which is probably my favorite of the entire series now.

Kirika Akatsuki

Hot-blooded, cheerful, and insistent on ending every sentence with "I say!" Kirika is nothing short of a joy to watch. She's a welcome entry in the villain faction, which desperately needed someone lighthearted to counteract the dead sister angst. Of course, this doesn't mean she's is without her own conflicts.

Kirika's main drive is, aside from saving the innocent, protecting her girlfriend best friend Shirabe. She's constantly trying to cheer her up cold-hearted friend and remind her that what they're doing is the right thing. However, this protective instinct leads to a discovery that changes her for the worst, and the rest of the show is her tragic and slow descent into madness, leading to a heartbreaking scene in the final battle that left me going "damn, they went there."

Kirika's Gear is cool enough, but not my favorite. It's mostly just a scthye and boomerangs, making it not much different from Tsubasa's Gear. Or at least, her Gear isn't as impressive as our next antagonist...

Shirabe Tsukuyomi

Cold, distant, but ruthless in combat (beware the quite ones), Shirabe is a great foil to her lover friend Kirika, or "Kiri-chan" as she likes to call her. One could say that Shirabe is an emotionless husk, but as the story plays out we learn that, like most tsunderes, this is merely a mask to hide how much she cares for the people around her. She harbors a deep respect and admiration for Maria and an unbreakable bond with Kirika.

Shirabe bears a strong resentment towards Hibiki, being the one to drill home the fact that she's a "hypocrite" (for reasons I'm still not hugely clear on...). She believes that FIS is the only hope humanity has for survival. Of course, once her idol, Maria, starts to lose sight of this goal, Shirabe becomes conflicted, and starts to question which side is right. I love it when villains don't know which path to take. Such delicious angst! 😬

As much as I love Chris' Gear, Shirabe's may just be my new favorite. Her pigtails transform into mechanical arms with sawblades! She can spawn a giant sawblade to ride around on like a giant wheel! She can turn into a giant robot with sawblades for arms! Y'know, I'm starting to think I like saw-based weapons...

Professor Nastassja

My only complaint about this character is that no one ever made fun of her name.

Prof. Nastassja, or "Mom" as Maria, Kirika and Shirabe call her, is the serious, straightforward thinking mastermind of FIS's operations. She was there when Serena died in front of Maria, and after seeing her determination to protect people, she decided to push Maria towards their ultimate goal of "saving" mankind from the Moon crashing. Thankfully, this woman actually has a head on her shoulders, and comes to realize that killing people probably isn't the best way to save them (who'da thunk?) and thus sets out on a path of redemption. Damn, what's with villains this season realizing that they might be wrong? I love it!

Of course, on the deep end of the villains spectrum, we have the only one who doesn't realize the error of his ways...

Dr. Ver

Just a sample of the many amazing faces this guys makes.

Everyone loves a good psychopath. And oh boy, does this guy really underline the "psycho" part of that word. Constantly laughing manically, making theatrical gestures, spawning Noise with an itchy trigger finger, and declaring loud and proud that HE is the hero of this story. I could watch him for hours.

While Dr. Ver's motivation does stem from FIS's overly convoluted plot, he makes it very clear that he has his own agenda. He may claim he strives for the salvation of humanity, but his actions say otherwise. And that's why he's so great. He doesn't have a complex backstory or a redemption arc. He's just evil through and through and he loves every minute of it. As Alfred once said to Bruce Wayne: "Some men just want to watch the world burn." 😈

Alright, that's all the new characters out of the way. Time to move onto my favorite section before I wrap things up...

Yuri:

The yuri content this season was, like the rest of it, a mixed bag. The best way I can sum it up is that it took one giant leap forward, and another giant leap back.

First and foremost, our star couple of the show: HibiMiku. Or they would be the star of the show if they had more screentime. Yeah, G really did this couple dirty. They don't even hold a conversation together until Episode 6! And then they throw in the whole conflict of Miko wanting to protect Hibiki. I guess the writers were relying on the sentiment they'd built on HibiMiku from the last season, but I feel like the two could've have at least TALKED about Miku not wanting Hibiki to fight before throwing her into the action. There was one scene twowards the end with the two of them that really got me in the feels, but it was hardly enough to make up for the whole lot of nothing we got from the rest of the season.

Second, we have the two that ultimately saved the yuri content in G: KiriShira. They look good together? Check. Complimenting personalities? Check. Emotional support? Check. Each character has their own motivation and arc outside of their relationship? Check. These two are not only absolutely adorable together, but unlike HibiMiku, which is more implied (even though there shouldn't be any doubt they're dating), KiriShira actually gets a love confession! I haven't seen that in a magical girl show since Sailor Moon Crystal when Hotaru confessed to Chibi-Usa! I'll have to see more of these two before I can say for sure, but I might actually prefer KiriShira to HibiMiku at this point. Gonna have to see how the rest of the series plays out!

Conclusion:

Symphogear G is a considerable step down from Season 1 in my opinion. While I absolutely adore the antagonists and love (MOST) of the yuri content we got, the story and protagonists just didn't do it for me this time around, which is a shame considering how much I liked them in Season 1. The fight scenes in the first couple of episodes were less than impressive, which had me nervous, but they thankfully stepped up towards the end, delivering one hell of a climactic finale.

Also, I'm not gonna lie, the final episode got me choked up.

I may have been to hard on this season when I started this review. Despite my numerous issues, I still enjoyed myself throughout and I am looking forward to the next season. I sincerely hope my issues with the plot and protagonists are rectified because I do love this series. What's done well in G is really good, but what fails in G really fails. Oh well, not every season of a franchise can be a masterpiece. I'm just praying that it's all uphill from here. 🙏

Rating: 6/10

Hope you all enjoyed! I'll see you in my review of Symphogear GX, my fellow yuri lovers! ❤️😊❤️

[weaselandfriends]

Hymnstoke XV

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Bildungsroman.

I think the term "bildungsroman" (or its less-pedantic equivalent "coming of age story") is over-employed in contemporary critical analysis. It's a lot like the term "deconstruction," which can be draped atop a wide variety of stories to ostensibly make a critical statement without saying anything.

Hussie himself, in one of his old Formspring posts, described Homestuck as a "coming of age story." But who exactly is the one coming of age? Obvious answer is John. The story opens with him on the cusp of adolescence (thirteenth birthday) and ends, at least in one Epilogue, with him reconciling with his estranged wife and child. Obviously some coming-of-age has occurred, even if only literally. But in what way has John developed as a person? Is that development stymied by the existence of a parallel Epilogue in which he unceremoniously dies, or does even that branch of John's existence feed into who John becomes as a person?

I've only read the Epilogues once, so my thoughts on that part of the story probably won't be fully realized until I reread them at the end of this blog. Rooting myself purely in the current moment of Act 4, however, I can still discuss certain aspects of John as a character. I mentioned in previous Hymnstokes his beginning as a naïve, blank slate reader-surrogate who blindly fumbles his way through uncertain situations. His trajectory has been away from this initial naivete toward cynicism—or "irony" if you will—a more cautious, guarded approach to his understanding of the world around him. The main moment of development so far has been his foray into his Dad's room, which revealed to him that his Dad "isn't all that into clowns you guess." But I don't think it's until John's interactions with Vriska in Act 5 Act 2 that he's going to reach the done-with-this-shit, rolling-my-eyes attitude he possesses throughout Act 6. (And it's funny, because even when he takes on that attitude, he still serves as reader surrogate—as if the reader, too, sees what was once novel and wonderful as obnoxious and stupid—but that's for a discussion of Act 6 as a whole.) So that's John's coming-of-age "arc."

Which feeds into a larger discussion about duality, because as I mentioned previously Dave is moving in the opposite trajectory, away from irony and toward sincerity. Rose is moving away from scientific analysis and toward occult spiritualism, while Jade—well, Jade never really gets a "character arc" because she's more of a plot device than a real character. But Jade, functionally, begins as a spiritual prognosticator whose seemingly supernatural facets all eventually become explained by rudimentary technical features of the SBURB game.

The reason why I think describing Homestuck as a "coming of age story" is reductive is because while these young characters do develop (or at least change), these developments crisscross one another, lead to innumerable dead ends, and fail to satisfy the characters themselves. I would argue that almost all of the characters are more insecure, or even more immature, at the end of Homestuck than at its beginning. The thirteen-year-old versions of these characters speak with the vocabulary and understanding of a reasonably well-read 30-something dude, employing witty barbs and clever sentence constructions left and right as they empirically sort out the unfamiliar game world of SBURB to satisfactory results. They have "problems" with their parental figures, they don't "understand" themselves, but they are competent people capable of progressing despite immense challenges hurled their direction. The major failures of the B1 SBURB session are caused by the meddling of the trolls, not imperfections in John, Dave, Rose, or Jade. In fact, the kids' concerted, Herculean efforts to create a clockwork Cascade of perfectly-placed mechanisms are what salvage an otherwise hopeless situation.

Yet in B2 it all goes to shit, and John and pals wind up being totally useless despite having far more advantages than they did in the B1 session: three years to prepare, foreknowledge of the game's mechanics and even the specific situation of the B2 SBURB they are entering, being literal gods, retcon powers, et cetera. It's almost as if, rather than "coming of age" and "developing into adults," the kids undevelop, unmature, regress, fall apart, decay...

Kind of like entropy.

So if the characters themselves are progressing in these crisscrossing dualisms, irony versus sincerity, science versus faith, then the development of the characters as a whole is crisscrossing the development of the plot: Degeneration versus regeneration, destruction versus creation. In a way, these characters are relics of the world they left behind: that saturated, useless Earth. They are products of its cultural detritus, and while their aim is to create a world from its fragments, they themselves are among those fragments. In the Epilogues, their intrusion into the world they created hurls that world into chaos, and the Meat epilogue ends with them extracting themselves from a place in which they do not belong.

GC: 4CT1ONS TH4T COMPL3T3 LOOPS 1N TH3 T1M3L1NE GC: COGS 1N P4R4DOX SP4C3 TT: Paradox space? GC: OH H3LL GC: L1ST3N TH3 UN1V3RS3 W1LL 34T P4R4DOX3S FOR BR34KF4ST GC: 4ND SO W1LL TH1S G4M3 GC: G3T US3D TO 1T GC: BY NOW YOU SHOULD R34L1Z3 TH1S WHOL3 M3SS W4S 4 B1G S3LF FULLF1LL1NG CLUST3RFUCK GC: A HUG3 ORG14ST1C MOB1US DOUBL3 R34CH4ROUND

Or are the linear tracks of character development I described actually part of Homestuck's favorite structure, the mobius loop? Is the duality between irony and sincerity, science and magic not actually a duality, but two sides of the same one-sided shape?

Because the path of Homestuck might also be read not as a linear rise and fall, but a series of loops. John and pals degenerate in early Act 6, only to renew again after GAME OVER when Vriska sorts everything out and they have a huge pow-wow before the final fight. Yet they degenerate again in Epilogues, falling apart at times even more pathetically than they did on the three-year plane ride to the B2 session, only to finally reach a semblance of resolution at the end of either one Epilogue or the other. But even the ends of those Epilogues suggest a lack of finality, a way for the story to continue, more development upward or downward to be had.

A series of Ascents and Descents. It fits the naming structure employed for many key moments in Homestuck. But what does it mean? Why does it matter that Homestuck is structured this way?

Thomas Pynchon, that nefarious postmodernist, was a writer overtly concerned with entropy, given his background in science and engineering. He once wrote a short story about another one of his favorite interests: parties, bro. In this story, a group of young people are partying in a house. Having fun, drinking, all that young kid stuff. But as the night draws to an end, the energy disperses, everyone becomes tired and lazes about. The closed system of the party has succumbed to entropy. At the end of the story, someone opens a window and a breath of fresh air revives everyone so that the party can continue.

On a universal level, entropy is irrevocable. Eventually, millions or billions of years in the future, heat will disperse throughout the universe; no more stars, no more solar systems, only a cold expanse of space. But in a closed system, entropy can be easily overcome by opening the system and letting in energy from outside, the way it worked in Pynchon's party story.

In an earlier Hymnstoke, I exuberantly declared that Homestuck overcomes entropy. My argument was that, by making meaning out of meaningless cultural detritus, Homestuck resolves the problem of societal decay famously put forward by T.S. Eliot in the poem The Waste Land. That conclusion may have been overeager, especially in light of how Homestuck ends both in Act 7 and the Epilogues. But I think viewing Homestuck through this post- or post-postmodern lens of entropic decay sheds some insight on what exactly those tricky Epilogues mean.

Paradox Space appears to be a closed system that overcomes entropy. It can go both up and down despite being closed. It continually chews up and recycles its own parts to continue its progression, similar to how Hussie brings back seemingly irrelevant details to create meaning later. As characters state innumerably throughout the story, everything in Paradox Space is a "S3LF FULLF1LL1NG CLUST3RFUCK," designed with the sole intention of continuing the existence of Paradox Space.

But Paradox Space cares nothing for the existence of its constituent parts beyond what they can do to further itself. And because of this, the characters, while trapped within Paradox Space, cannot truly progress. They go up every time they go down, down every time they go up. Every state of maturity breaks apart into a state of immaturity, every revelation or self-understanding is later reframed as a shortsighted false epiphany. Eventually, like John at the end of the Meat epilogue, they are unceremoniously mulched so that Paradox Space can continue.

Where's the escape? In a world where the worth of an individual is only how much use can be drained out of them until they break, how does the individual "come of age"?

I think, moving forward, I'll keep a closer eye on how each character interacts with Paradox Space, that unseen clockwork machinist putting all its cute pieces together for the sake of continuing itself. If Homestuck is a "coming of age story," I do not believe it has an altogether positive view on the ability of children to mature and develop. Hussie may have intended it to at an earlier stage of Homestuck's creation, but that was PAH, Past Andrew Hussie. It has been, what, seven or eight years since that Formspring post?

TT: I'm starting to see that. TT: So the exiles are on Earth? Does that mean our goal is to get back there too? To resurrect it somehow? GC: NO NO NO GC: S33 1RON1C4LLY TH3Y G3T TO DO TH4T GC: 4FT3R TH3YR3 DON3 H3LP1NG YOU TH4T 1S GC: YOUR JOB 1S OF GR34T3R CONS3QU3NC3 TO S4Y TH3 L34ST GC: BUT P4RT OF TH31R JOB 1S TO R3BU1LD L1F3 4ND C1V1L1Z4T1ON TH3R3 GC: 4ND 1F TH3YR3 SUCC3SSFUL 1N THOUS4NDS OR M1LL1ONS OF Y34RS TH3 T3CHNOLOGY 1S UN34RTH3D 4ND TH3 PL4N3T 1S R1P3 FOR S33D1NG 4LL OV3R 4G41N

Oh hey, rebuilding and reseeding. Even the dead planet gets recycled so that another session of SBURB can begin.

(End of Meat epilogue, 2010 colorized.)

GC: 1M MOT1V4T3D BY S3LF 1NT3R3ST GC: TO H3LP YOU 4DV4NC3 MOR3 QU1CKLY GC: B3C4US3 1V3 GOT YOUR WHOL3 ADV3NTUR3 R1GHT H3R3 1N FRONT OF M3 EB: do you have a braille screen or something? GC: SHHHHHHHH! GC: 4NYW4Y TH3 PO1NT 1S GC: 1TS LONG AND BOR1NG GC: 4ND YOU COULD ST4ND TO SK1P SOM3 ST3PS

Vriska will eventually take on the role Terezi is performing here, but this exchange hearkens back to what I was talking about in the previous Hymnstoke about "skipping to the end." Doing it here gets John killed, because of course this skip is meant to "FUCK UP TH3 T1M3L1N3." At other times, screwing with the timeline is exactly what the timeline requires, so it is allowed in that instance (and it's even allowed in this instance because the doomed timeline created here allows the main timeline to progress in a necessary way). The concept of temporal causality, introduced in the Intermission, becomes more explicit in this episode with Terezi and John and the jetpack. Where Spades Slick and the Felt played by temporal rules, John will not, and the consequences for those actions will be revealed, as well as the harsh truth: the individuals within the system have no choice; the system commands their actions.

GA: I Just Would Like To Gather GA: Some Means Of Gauging Her Sincerity TG: ok well its easy TG: for everything she says take her to mean just the opposite TG: see not everybody always means literally what they say the way john and jade always do GA: Maddening GA: How Do Humans Forge Meaningful Relationships Using Such Communication Patterns GA: Perhaps It Is The Human Riddle That Is Truly The Ultimate Riddle

While this quote touches on the irony versus sincerity angle as it pertains to the kids, the reason I bring this passage up is: What the hell was the Ultimate Riddle? I completely forget if it was ever meaningful whatsoever. Did it get answered? Does it even show up after Act 5? Act 5 (and Act 4, its prelude) is so divorced from everything that comes before and especially after it. Act 6 gleefully forgets anything that happened in Act 5, and the Ultimate Riddle is only one of its many casualties.

I guess if you slap something into a story called "the Ultimate Riddle" you're going to provoke people to try and answer it, even if the riddle lacks any substance whatsoever.

GC: TH3 HO4RD CONT41NS SO MUCH MOR3 GR1ST TH4N YOU COULD 3V3R US3 1N 4N 4LCH3M1T3R GC: 1 M34N YOU COULD 1 GU3SS GC: BUT TH4TS NOT TH3 PO1NT GC: 1TS FOR TH3 ULT1M4T3 4LCH3MY EB: what's the ultimate alchemy? GC: 1TS NOTH1NG FOR YOU TO WORRY 4BOUT NOW

I think the Ultimate Alchemy also doesn't matter? I don't remember it, at least, although maybe it had more of an answer than the Ultimate Riddle. I think SBURB as a game doesn't matter all that much, that a lot of it is, eventually, skipped Vriska-style. (Maybe the Ultimate Alchemy created Caledfwlch? I seriously forget.)

JASPERSPRITE: Rose im just a cat and i dont know much but i know that youre important and also you are what some people around here call the Seer of Light. JASPERSPRITE: And you dont know what that means but you will see its all tied together! JASPERSPRITE: All the life in the ocean and all the shiny rain and the songs in your head and the letters they make. JASPERSPRITE: A beam of light i think is like a drop of rain or a long piece of yarn that dances around when you play with it and make it look enticing! JASPERSPRITE: And the way that it shakes is the same as what makes notes in a song! JASPERSPRITE: And a song i think can be written down as letters. JASPERSPRITE: So if you play the right song and it makes all the right letters then those letters could be all the letters that make life possible. JASPERSPRITE: So all you have to do is wake up and learn to play the rain!

God damn, we are just going on a tear of "shit that is introduced like it's important but turns out to be not important at all." I recall in particular several people were annoyed that Rose never "played the rain," that it was a point foreshadowed but never acted upon. But rereading this story from the viewpoint of knowing what is and isn't resolved, I think it's no accident that all these game concepts (Ultimate Riddle, Ultimate Alchemy, play the rain) are introduced in such rapid succession and all wind up not being that relevant. The quantity of these esoteric terms undermines their ostensible quality; when faced with Ultimate This, Ultimate That, the reader fails to affix narrative importance to all of it. And because all these things do, in fact, wind up being barely relevant (if relevant at all), this stylistic presentation turns out to be entirely appropriate. Of course, these pointless Ultimate Whatevers are framed against the backdrop of John "skipping to end," so the concept that certain things might not be important should already be implanted in the reader's mind.

Does that make Paradox Space not as efficient as it seems to be? That's one interpretation, but here's another, based on a point I made previously: What is important for Paradox Space is not important for the characters. Paradox Space can put forth an Ultimate Riddle, and to Paradox Space that riddle may, in fact, be important. But it's only more jumbled detritus to the protagonists, a collection of obscure terms that are ultimately less important on their personal paths than, say, Con Air. And this fact might suggest that creating your own path ("skipping to the end") might be more important than following the preset path laid out for you, the path created by the system (society, biology, your parents, the government, whatever you consider the "system" to be). John's jetpack excursion fails. But it wasn't his idea to skip ahead anyway, it was Terezi's. He wasn't following his own path. Hence, his failure.

However, in this Jaspersprite instance, "irrelevant" is not a completely fair assessment. A song that can be written down as letters? The letters can make life possible? Jaspersprite also says this:

ROSE: Jaspers, the message you gave me years ago before you disappeared... ROSE: What did you mean? JASPERSPRITE: Meow. ROSE: Sigh... JASPERSPRITE: :3 ROSE: I don't understand.

M, E, O, and W are the four letters that represent GCAT and become essential later in Act 5 for creating Becquerel (if I'm remembering correctly). I think it's those letters that Jaspersprite refers to when he tells Rose to "learn to play the rain," meaning this mystery, at least, is not only relevant but was resolved long before things in Homestuck stopped being resolved.

[starbudspresents]

DGM 230 - Panthaleia’s Translation Notes

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN

That is, your quarterly reminder that I'm still alive! As are the rest of StarBuds, hip hip hooray.

Big gorgeous 35-page chapter this time around, so let's jump right in!

1.) I have been informed that the cityscape referenced in the opening setting panels here is Edinburgh, Scotland:

Edinburgh is in fact in Scotland, buuuut this is somewhat complicated by the fact that Hoshino-sensei did something weird with the naming here (wow, shock). 

Though she calls London "London" and Paris "Paris" and is therefore presumably fine with giving real-world cities their real-world names, she calls the town our heroes just landed in "Edinston" rather than "Edinburgh" and says it's in "Igirisu," which is a Japanese world describing both the United Kingdom and — more commonly — England in particular. There are existing Japanese words for both "Scotland" and "Edinburgh," and they are notably not used. 

To be as safe as possible, I've transliterated the town name directly and used "Britain" wherever "Igirisu" was used, to leave the door open for either possibility to be true. 

As for Allen's nationality: that's still up in the air, too, because this town is only where he met Mana in the circus and the events of Lost Fragment of Snow transpired, not where he was born or where he joined up. He's definitely from somewhere in the UK, but beyond that? Pick your favourite and have fun, haha.  

2.) HALLELUJAH AMEN, IT'S RAINING MEN (enjoy those nightmares, kids! :D)

3.) Oh my god, they forgot the bracelets. Rest in pieces. 

(Also: the implication that if Komui had made them they were probably broken because things Komui makes work so terribly well the people whose lives they're meant to improve often end up worse off in the end is both hilarious and painful. See: Komurin. But because Reever made it, coming off is a failsafe meant to protect the users from unforeseen circumstances, because he actually thinks things all the way through most of the time.)

4.) "the ground smells different" I mean okay to be entirely fair, this is a real thing that I've noticed myself, but this is still... so funny.... such a dog person thing to say.....

5.) The "one more step" line was more literally "if you intend to keep running any more than this," with the implication that Kanda would rather just kill him right now and have done than take one more step in his pursuit. (Kandas are natural sprinters; very dangerous over short distances.)

6.) lmao

Allen: okay are you going to save me or kill me, please choose one

Kanda: both? both is good

8.) Okay now for a bit of the kind of thing I actually make these posts for:

"神の結晶" (kami no kesshou) is a very interesting term that was first (and possibly only ever the once, I still haven't read all the raws) used in chapter 007, during Komui's guided tour of the Order:

Komui: A substance of mysterious power some call the "crystal of God."

The fun thing about this is that while pretty much everyone opted to translate kesshou as "crystal" — the "crystal of God" — the word also (and more often) means "crystallization (of)". As in, Innocence is the crystallized and shattered body of God. 

Funnily enough, when I went back to 197 to find a panel for the next point, I also found this while skimming:

Image

Guro!Tokusa: We [AKUMA] will [kill/destroy] God (f: the Innocence).

The kanji say "God", the furigana say "Innocence," and that is what Hoshino does when things are meaningfully related and/or synonymous. By destroying the Innocence, they are killing God, because the Innocence was not made by God, but of God.

Soooo since this is my translation and that felt like a Sign, I'm going with "crystallization," to hell with it.

 9.) This part is new favourite ever, oh my god. Kanda not only understanding the feelings of others, but trying to teach empathy to Allen?? Oh, how the turntables~! 

And then!! Allen accusing Kanda of sticking his nose in where it isn't welcome, and Kanda's like "POT, KETTLE, ASSHOLE" because this is exactly what Allen did to/for him in North America over Alma. "Call this payback for what you said" refers to this bit in 197:

Allen: You're not even trying to face Alma head-on...

Kanda: Now who isn't facing things head-on?

ALSOOOO the callback to chapter 005, wherein Kanda cut Allen's arm with Mugen for an entirely different reason:

Allen's self-sacrificing hypocrisy, however well meant, is being called out increasingly hard as the story goes on, and I'm all about it. He keeps trying to make people's decisions for them, and though it's true that he's doing it because he's scared for them, it's still not at all his call to make. He's treating them like children, not his friends, and ignoring their very clearly stated wish to see this through with him, but even so they're standing firm on the decisions they made for themselves. justcommunication.mp3

9.) And the flipside: despite his terror of seeing his loved ones hurt, he actually is still properly scared for himself and desperately doesn't want to be alone. Their presence made everything both worse for him (because they cranked up the stakes even higher being within impact range) and better (because he wasn't alone in the sightless, murderous dark). His torn heart here is so real and it hurts just to watch. In the best of ways.

10.) Aaaand there's where the "fool" line comes back in: when Allen accepts that he's guilty of exactly the same thing he took Kanda to task for, and they've just exchanged shoes. This chapter is a gift to me personally, thank you Hoshino-no-kami.  

11.) He's grieving for Tim properly now, thank god. This is tremendously painful too, but so much better than the blank dissociation from before. Now he can walk on through the rest of the grieving process with everything moving within him as it should. 

12.) I definitely thought for a hot minute that the Mana-marked tree was Cornelia and he jumped them straight to the mansion, but it's definitely not. It's in a small square in a city, whereas Cornelia is on the vast Canbell property, and it wouldn't make any sense for the circus to have been parked on the front lawn of the place Mana ran away from. So the plot isn't jumping ahead quite as fast as I initially thought, but it is going somewhere!! For real!!!

13.) The little "is your stomach empty, too" aside is because he thinks Allen is grubbing around in the dirt for food. (Take a glance at the fancy ants and maybe... try a few? ♫) 

14.) Furigana on "Allen" in "where Allen was born" say "I," and "born" really says "hajimari", "beginning". I took a tiny bit of poetic liberty on that one and I don't think it'll affect anything but if it does, now you know.

What a killer chapter, I'm so delighted. January is going to be amazing. 

If you have any questions, or think I've made any mistakes (entiiiiirely possible), drop me an ask or hit me up @Panthaleia9705 on Discord! I'm not actively participating in fandom right now but I will still respond if I'm hailed, haha. <3

[okimargarvez]

HURT - 8

Prompt: Luke’s dark thought, destiny, contrasted love. Warnings: sexual content, dark thoughts. Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, BAU team, others. Pairing: Garvez. Multichapter (22).

GARVEZ STORIES

Chapter 1-  Chapter 2-  Chapter 3    Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6    Chapter 7

HURT- Chapter 8

 It's been a few weeks and there hasn’t been any kind of change between them. Neither positive nor negative. Neither of them confided the problem to another human being: Penelope discussed it with Sergio (Emily's cat) and Luke, although talked to Roxy, he didn’t open the matter with his therapist.

Gradually they began to prick, almost coming to the point of self-assurance that what had been there was all in their heads, not concrete, but the result of a fantasy too fervid and abstinence pushed to the extreme. The others didn’t, as usual, realize nothing. They were discussing the possibility that the team would add a new member, there were also Spencer and JJ. Rossi had been in Prentiss's office for at least two hours.

-You couldn’t find anything out, with all your super powers?- Luke asks, with an ironic teasing tone. Penelope isn’t far behind. She puffs, looks at him wrong, while the other two bystanders, hardly hide funny smiles.

-Oh, ha ha, newbie. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I checked with all the mes in other units, to see if any of their agent are transferring over. Nobody knows diddley-squat.- he can’t help but admire how the glasses perfectly match the necklace and the jacket (and other so little masculine thoughts cross his mind), even if  he would rip the latter fly away, as well as the dark red shirt, with a rhombus...

- Well, I feel like Emily's been poring over these resumes forever.- JJ exclaims, distracting him from such thoughts, flying towards him -...I mean, the brass has to approve a new agent soon, right?- she then asks, apparently not aware of anything.

- All I know is, whoever he or she is, they'd better be nice. That is the most important thing to me.- she pronounces the sentence, looking directly at Luke.

- To all of us.- Spencer says, not catching the little arrow behind a phrase typically "Garcia". Penelope sighs.

- So whoever this well-qualified mystery person is, I say once they join, we change our name from The Magnificent 7 to The Awesome 8. Huh? It's perfect.- her enthusiasm isn’t shared by anyone, not even by him, who would do anything to make her smile, to see again that face enlighten and know to be partly responsible.

A chorus of -I do not know...- and similar resounds in the area. The blonde doesn’t lose heart.

-I’m declaring a dictatorship. You guys don’t get a vote. Especially you, newbie.- again that adjective that sends blood to his head. He would also immediately show her who is the newbie. The problem is that the only way that comes to his mind is always the same. And in addition to undoubtedly causing damage, not solving the question, etc., it is not even feasible, because she will not fall more easily in his arms, as it could be before he had say that horrible sentence...

-Sorry guys, no news. But we have a case...- Prentiss's appearance on the balcony, silencing the question for the moment.

-What?- she asks, then a message arrives, she looks at her phone and nods -Oh yeah, we do. This isn’t sgood.- then she walks toward the meeting room. Quickly followed by others. Also reappears Tara, who asks for information from their communication expert. Penelope begins to distribute the folders to each, noting with great disappointment that Luke has sat right in the place next to her (damned!); at the same time, she begins to explain the details of the case. -Okay, last night in Iakima, Washington – she feels his eyes on her, it's not just her impression. Why the hell is he still staring at her? In such a clear way, in front of others? But fortunately, they are all bent over the sheets, they are following her explanation. -police received multiple 911 phone calls from the same neighborhood.- nothing, he doesn’t want to give up. Is he doing it on purpose, to see if he can confuse her? She will not give him this satisfaction. -They all reported a woman...- he, who took the remote control and played with it a little, is now forced to pass it on to her. Their fingers touch for a time longer than necessary for the transition. And this time in the eyes of JJ doesn’t escape any subtext. It is obvious that there must be something more, between these two, it is no longer detesting someone who has taken the place of her best friend. But if Penelope doesn’t want to talk to her, she can’t force her to do it-… pounding on the door, screaming for help. She was hysterical. They received five calls in less than five minutes.- the screen shows the flashing red dots in the sighting areas.

-Let me guess. Not one person opened their door to help her.- Rossi considers. Penelope nods.

-Sad commentary on our times.- Spencer adds -But understandable: a stranger at your door cold be a ruse to get into your home to rob you.- JJ raises her eyes to this sentence.

-Or worse.- and she exchanges an eloquent look with Tara.

-All of the caller described the woman as been in her mid-20s and scantily clad. One even called her a prostitute.- when she listens to him she feels bad, she wants to be able to leave the room, not having to see him anymore. Because continue to come to her mind fragments of their "relationships", especially those in which she was exactly felt that way: an object, a thing, an automaton, worse, a slave who had to satisfy all his wishes. And the most tragic thing is that she almost liked it! -Said that a hooded figure grabbed her off the street, was driving a dark-colored car.- while it is clear that he has already forgotten everything, he speaks of the case in a detached, serious, focused.

-So we have an abduction.- Dr. Lewis takes the floor for the first time.

-It appears so, but that not the only reason they called us.- and in fact the situation is much worse than they might have initially seemed.

-Right, because when the local police were looking for the missing woman- Penelope is careful not to turn her head in his direction -they uncovered the remains of two female victims on the bank of a nearby creek. -here are the pictures of the victims, with the body practically mummified. -One was skeletonized. And the other was in a burlap sack. She has been dead for three weeks.- she can’t help thinking that this poor woman was still alive when she was having a good time and she thought she had found... the man with whom to spend her life. It's too much? Was she a total fool, for having hoped for us so much? Probably. But keep the doubt, the dilemma in eternity, more or less as she had done with Morgan, never going beyond that boundary that so many times would have wanted to cross... where it had got her? It is better to have regrets for something that has been done, but has gone wrong, or have them for something that has never been accomplished and will never know how it could have gone? Rhetorical question.

-She also had barbed wire wrapped around the waist.- Tara notices.

-She being Debra McDermott, 27, from Moxee. Washington.- Penelope explains.

-Run away from home at 16, multiple arrests for prostitution... Given the witnesses statements for the current missing woman... I’d says our unsub is got a type.- JJ wonders. Then what she is feared happens. Luke turns to her, to ask a question. He does it because it's his job, they have to catch those who have done such horrible things to these poor creatures. But could he not at least avoid looking at her that way? -Any idea on the skeleton?- the only way she has to defend herself is to shake her head keeping her eyes tightly closed. Sealed.

-No, not yet.- fortunately Spencer, without knowing it, runs to her rescue.

-But her date of death is estimated to be 3 years ago.- considers in fact the little genius.

-Three years and now three weeks. What are the odds he remained dormant between victims?- Rossi asks.

- We should look into recent local prison releases that match that timeframe.- Prentiss addresses directly to Penelope.

-I'll search that now.- and while she says it, she's already starting to type on her computer.

- He could have been sublimating his urges by reliving the kills.- Tara proposes.

- Maybe he found a job- Luke continues through attempts -or a relationship that satisfied him...- but it is not accidental that in saying this last part of the sentence, he glances at her. It's all in your head. He doesn’t feel anything. He said it was just sex. He didn’t even choose you. Except that Tara wasn’t his type and the others were busy. Give it a reason, hell! A month will have passed in a while, and you still think about it! I have to stop talking to myself.

-If either went sour, that could have triggered his killing again.- Reid continues.

- The only thing we know for certain is we have two dead victims and a missing woman who's still out there. Wheels up in 20.- saying this the chief dissolves the meeting. Luke is still a few moments to look at the pictures in his dossier, then gets up and follows the others outside the room. Leaving her alone again, to fix things. More or less as he had done before.

 Let me be the first to welcome you.

How much hatred does he feel, to hear her say (in his head) this sentence again? And he could make fun of himself, not admitting that he noticed the way Penelope had staring the "new new guy", eyes that practically came out of her head, not even she hadn’t seen Morgan. But maybe that was it, he looked a little like him, now we don’t exaggerate, seen by a person without glasses who couldn’t see her hand in front of her face ... well, maybe the super special agent he soon replaced, and Stephen Walker would be could look similar. In any case, she had reserved a welcome that was very different from his. And when she shook her hand for the second time, to present herself officially, he hadn’t succeeded in holding back. He had complained to everyone about how she had treated him unjustly. And that he was tired of being called newbie. Now he wasn’t the new comer anymore. Did she couldn’t force herself to call him by his real name, as did the others?

But such a request would never have happened if they had found themselves. Because the others didn’t know what he had done to her. Otherwise neither JJ, nor certainly Spencer, would ever give him a rope. And Emily to protect her computer technician would surely be able to get him fired.

In the end it was closed with a proposal for an armistice, to celebrate in the usual O'Keef. But he had refused. He wouldn’t have been able to stare at her while other people, male beings, approached her to try to flirt with her, they took her hand, bring her to the dance floor, smiled at her and received smiles in return. They touched her and looked at her in ways that no one else besides him would ever allow himself to use.

He still feels that she is his, and in his utopia, she is as faithful as she is in this (almost) month of separation. But why would she do that? They had never even been officially together. They had only fucked. This what he had told her. Spectacular lie. At this moment, lying on his stomach on his bed, a hand immersed in Roxy's fur, aware that even this night he couldn’t sleep, he almost feels the lack of those ghosts that seem to have abandoned him. Even them.

[brainbirdbrain]

Robert Wallace Malone is an American virologist and immunologist who helped to develop the covid mRNA vaccine.  Last week, Dr Malone was interviewed on the Joe Rogan Podcast. He said that the government and media responses to the virus are not supported by evidence, and that the government and media have created a “mass psychosis.”

The podcast episode was immediately purged from Youtube, and Malone was banned from Twitter for spreading misinformation. Dr. Malone repeatedly uses the term “mass formation psychosis” to describe the current state of affairs in America.   ----------------------------------------------------------- DR. ROBERT MALONE: It's hard for me to reconcile the behavior of the government and its public health decisions with the data. It is like there are two bins -- is it incompetence or malevolence? Is there some ulterior political motive or are they just dumb/stupid? JOE ROGAN: If there is a political motive and that is written somewhere, someone is going to jail. If that somehow, that's scary. I might be totally naive. ... DR. ROBERT MALONE: For me, the disclosure of emails that Cliff Lane, Tony Fauci, and Francis Collins actively conspired to destroy any discussion of the appropriateness of lockdown strategies, and the mainstream press hardly covers it, and there are no consequences... We're in an environment in which truth and consequences are fungible. This is modern media management warfare. The truth is what those that are managing the Trusted News Initiative say it is. JOE ROGAN: That is wild. And for me personally, it is so confusing [that] I find myself in this position where I'm compelled to have people like you on because I don't know where else this is going to get out. DR. ROBERT MALONE: Thank you... You can label me however you want to label me. I've done what I want in my career... This is not a fun thing to be doing at this stage... Medicine is being destroyed, globally. People are losing faith in the whole system, in the scientific enterprise, they're losing faith in our government, they're losing faith in the vaccine enterprise. What is going to be the long-term consequence on public health when you have a large fraction of the population who wasn't "anti-vaxxer" before, who are now saying: "Oh Gosh, if this is how these people make decisions, I don't want anything to do with it, and I certainly don't want it jabbed into my kid." ... Pfizer is one of the most criminal pharmaceutical organizations in the world, based on their past legal history and fines. What do those fines include? Bribing physicians. It is a cost-benefit analysis in the pharmaceutical industry about misbehavior. They are not grounded in the ethical principles that you and I, average people, believe in. They don't live in that world. They are about profit, return on investment. Furthermore, the overlords that own them -- Blackrock, Vanguard, State Street, whatever -- these massive funds that are completely decoupled from nation-states have no moral core or moral purpose. Their only purpose is the return on investment. That is the core problem here, and the fact that we as a society have become grossly fragmented... This leads to the issue of mass formation psychosis that professor Mattias Desmet of the University of Ghent has promoted... When the psychiatrist/statistician (interesting combination) made this public, a lot of us said it made sense. That was like the brain blast when I encountered the Trusted News Initiative... How does this happen? How do we have this emergent phenomenon? The "how" question. And behind that is the "why" question. How is a third of the population basically being hypnotized, and totally wrapped up in whatever the mainstream media and Dr. Fauci feeds them and whatever CNN tells them is true? The other day I was reading the New York Times about Omicron and pediatrics and I saw this headline from an epidemiologist: How to Think About Omicron’s Risk for Children It was blatantly saying this is how you should think, we're going to tell you how to think. People have to get that in their heads. That's the world we're in right now. What Mattias Desmet has shared with us is another ["a-ha" moment]. This comes from European intellectual inquiry into what the heck happened in Germany in the 1930s... How did that happen? The answer is mass formation psychosis. When you have a society that has become decoupled from each other and has free-floating anxiety in the sense that things don’t make sense, we can’t understand it. And then their attention gets focused by a leader or series of events on one small point, just like hypnosis. They literally become hypnotized and can be led anywhere. And one of the aspects of that phenomenon is the people they identify as their leaders, who come in and recognize their pain and say "I alone can fix this for you," they will follow that person through hell... Anybody who questions that narrative is immediately attacked. This is what has happened. We have all those conditions.

[esonetwork]

'Matthew Henson and Ice Temple of Harlem' Book Review By Ron Fortier

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/matthew-henson-and-ice-temple-of-harlem-book-review-by-ron-fortier/

'Matthew Henson and Ice Temple of Harlem' Book Review By Ron Fortier

MATTHEW HENSON and the ICE TEMPLE OF HARLEM By Gary Phillips Agora Books 232 pgs

In contemplating this particular review, we were reminded of the old McDonald’s campaign ad in which people were encouraged to increase their initial order from a simple burger and fries to Super-Size. Not that that was good for anyone’s overall health, but the idea of exaggerating something seems an appropriate theme here. You see,

Matthew Alexander Henson (August 8, 1866 – March 9, 1955) was a real person. He was an explorer who joined Robert Peary on many Arctic voyages over a period of twenty-three years. Best known for his part in the 1908-1909 expedition wherein Henson claimed to have been the first human to reach the geographic North Pole on April 6, 1909.

All of which describes a truly heroic character in the flesh. Now, writer, Gary Phillips has turned Henson into a bonafide pulp action hero; in other words, he Super-Sized him. And he did it with his usual writing flair and panache. The historical setting is accurate throughout the book and it is obvious Phillips is having so much fun having Henson interact with such notable figures as crime boss Dutch Schultz and inventor Nikola Tesla. Focused on Harlem, characters like Langston Hughes and Bessie Coleman also appear, and Phillips enjoys sharing little-known facts about that part of the Big Apple during the post-World War One era. When reading historical pulp, and that’s what this is, we really appreciate these true facts.

The plot itself is a basic one. While on his last venture to the frozen North, Henson and a close Eskimo friend discovered a meteorite containing unbelievable energy. He is unclear as to what to do with the fragment he brought back with him. When he discovers certain unscrupulous men with money want to use it to power weapons of mass destruction, the world-weary explorer is determined to thwart their plans. Thus begins a deadly hide and seek contest that leaves several people dead and threatens a horrific attack on a large public gathering where a noted black leader is speaking. Henson must convince his friends of the danger and recruit them to his cause in the hope they have time to avert calamity and save the day.

“Matthew Henson and the Ice Temple of Harlem” is a pulp romp, with a wonderful storyline filled with amazing characters, both real and fictional. Phillips, like the best musicians, never misses a beat between the drama and bullets flying. It’s a page-turner from start to finish and we loved every bit of it.