#grief and kaijuu

[superantikaijuwarmachine]

I’m too scared to read the responses but op i get it.

Not to call everything a symptom, but is it a trauma thing to be able to compartmentalise people into "can do better" and "can't do better"? And I don't mean like splitting, I mean like you've got people that you know are capable of being kind, decent and just treating people right, and then there's people who aren't. So if someone that you already know and have mentally slotted into the "can be expected to do shitty things" does something atrociously shitty, you can just shrug and go "yeah they do that", not being any more surprised than you would be if a rock you just dropped from your hand fell on the ground.

But if someone that you know and have categorised as "capable of treating people right" did something cruel and shitty to you, you'd be shocked and heartbroken, because that's not something you're mentally prepared to expect from this person.

[superantikaijuwarmachine]

Mitski’s “I bet on losing dogs” and Ethel Cain’s “Head in the wall” back to back exactly describes the journal session I’m having

[ranexpositioning]

About the anime awards.

Tbh I don't think Frieren implicitly deserves the anime of the year award. An argument I see a lot is "the story is so peak", and it is, but every other nominee was just as good as Frieren (of course with the exception of Solo Levelling).

That Frieren tackles complicated grief doesn't automatically make it better. I'd argue that The Apothecary Diaries does that as well and even more subtly.

The world building in Dungeon Meshi is absolutely unrivalled, and its lore is only just beginning.

Dandadan not only managed to bring back shounen energy with a female protagonist, it did so while crafting character relationships in ways previously overlooked in the genre. Making people's hearts ache with such an outlandish plot in 12 episodes? Come on.

And Kaijuu No. 8 was just peak nostalgic shounen done right in every way. You go in without expecting much and before you know it, you're rooting for every single person on that show. The fact that they managed to do so well with such outdated tropes is a statement in and of itself.

But if we're going to stand a chance of at least not letting Solo Levelling get it, Frieren is the best bet. It's going to come down to production value and pure popularity, and Frieren has that in spades.

[leaderoffestivals]

Poltergeist Chapter 14

The Neverland of Grudges Ch 6

Arashi: Hold on a minute. Is everything alright? You didn’t do anything terrible to the children, did you?

Scenario Writer: Akira Season: Winter Characters: Mikejima Madara, Narukami Arashi

< The next day, in the morning. In a graveyard located in the same mountains as Dancing Cranes Home. >

Arashi: … … … …

Madara: HE~EYYY, ARASHI-SA~N!!

HAHAHA! How unexpectedly bizarre! I never imagined I’d be running into you in a place like this. This isn’t exactly the season to be visiting graves, is it? 

Arashi: … … Seriously? That’s my line~. You have the look of someone who definitely does not believe in the afterlife. You aren’t here to bow your head in pious prayer to Buddha, are you? 

Madara: Of course not. If there’s no such thing as God, then there’s no Heaven or Hell eitherrr. 

When you die, everything ends there―into nothingness. 

Arashi: There are exceptions, aren’t there? Or rather―even if you don’t believe it, Mama―Anzu-chan does, more or less, doesn’t she? 

That’s why she is still chasing after the shadow of “that child” to this very day.

Madara: Hoho~? Have you already solved the mystery, Arashi-san? Oh maaan, I thought I would be the first to figure it out. 

Arashi: Setting aside Aoba-senpai, I think Natsume-chan already knows what’s going on here as well.

That would explain why he chose Dancing Cranes Home as the setting this time, even though it’s chock full of unruly brats and thoroughly unsuitable for the staging of any heart-warming family drama.

The job this time seems to be more like a side-line, and the primary objective for us to be working as staff here is so that we can infiltrate Dancing Cranes Home―

Well, no―So that we can uncover and shed light on one of its mysteries this way. 

Madara: Just like undercover detectives.

Arashi: Exactly… … Speaking of which, how much have you figured out, Mama? Or rather, how much do you know?

Madara: Mm~, I only have a rough grasp of the situation myself, but—

After spending a whooole lot of time yesterday and today, playing with the kids in my Kaijuu group, I was able to completely drill into them the concept of “pecking order”—

And as a result, I was able to gently coax lots of information out of them. Thanks to that, most of my questions have been answered. 

Arashi: Hold on a minute. Is everything alright? You didn’t do anything terrible to the children, did you?

Madara: Of course not. I’m the son of a police officer after aaall, so I know how to stay within the limits of the law. 

Arashi: It’s not the law I’m concerned about, but the morality of your actions. If you’ve done anything to leave the shadow of any trauma on these children’s hearts, just know that I will never forgive you. 

Madara: HAHAHA! What’s with thaaat? Are you already thinking of yourself as their guardian even though you’ve been working at Dancing Cranes Home for only three days?

Arashi: Hmph. I’m very aware I don’t have the right to be putting on this kind of attitude on so many levels—

Arashi: But, do you know? That, even if the time we spent together was fleeting, and we’re complete strangers in the eyes of the law—if we’ve managed to communicate on a soul-to-soul level, we’d have forged a bond deeper than that of family.

Yesterday, I bowed my head and apologised to the children in my Rafflesia Group, saying, “I’m so, so sorry for making you cry”—and so on.

I meant those apologies sincerely, with all my heart. And you know what? Those kids of mine told me, “There’s no need for apologies at all. It wasn’t your fault, Arashi-sensei”—

Then they opened up a little and shared the grief they hid inside with me.

Madara: Hmmm. Grief, huh? For the kids in my group, it was rage. 

Whichever it is, they’re both negative emotions the “evil things” (1) are so fond of… … However, the situation here isn’t caused by the “evil things” or anything related to the occult. It’s caused by a graphically violent event that took place in reality. 

Arashi: Indeed… … It seems there was a terrible accident here at Dancing Cranes Home a few years back. 

Madara: That’s right. A reeeally catastrophic fire took place here. All the facilities in Dancing Cranes Home were completely burned down to a sorry pile of ashes and charred timber, so they say. 

According to the records, there were no casualties, however—

The remains of the burnt building still remain uncleared to this very day. They’ve been piled like garbage instead, along the mountain roads on the way here, and on the grounds of the new Dancing Cranes Home. 

Arashi: Ah, about that, it isn’t that no one has tried to remove the debris—it’s because they couldn’t remove the debris even if they wanted to~.

The girls I’m looking after told me that whenever hired workers came to remove the stuff, the stupid boys would always get in the way.

If the men were to try and load the remains of the burnt-down building onto their trucks to be taken away, the boys would either cause the engines to break down, or the tires to blowout.

Madara: Oh wow, seriously? The kids at Dancing Cranes Home are reeeally into acting like ghosts from horror movies, aren’t they?

Damaging all the modes of transportation to leave the characters stranded and trapped is a classic trope used to stir up fear.

Arashi: Mama, it feels like you’ve been referencing lots of movies and manga lately, haven’t you?

Madara: Well, it’s just that before Double Face was formed—and even after its formation, I should say—I was practically out of work. That’s why I’ve had an aggravating amount of free time on my hands.

Because of that, I’ve gotten reeeally good at killing time, and I’ve acquired lots of knowledge about various forms of entertainment while I was at it, too.

Arashi: Sigh. It’s a tragedy to be sidelined in work, isn’t it? I almost wish we at Knights could share some of our busyness as one of ES's Big 3 with you.

Madara: Hahaha. That’s the tricky thing about being in the idol business, isn’t it? It’s nigh impossible to simply hand off the work you’ve received to someone else.

Basically, the only ones who can complete the work are the ones who were commissioned to do it. 

Arashi: Exactly. We’re the only ones who can do the work we do. 

Conflicts arise whenever new members join, because of that very reason, mostly—they’re unable to integrate with the idol side, nor gain any acceptance in the eyes of the fans.

—————-To be continued——————-

Chapter 13 / Chapter 15

Translator’s Notes: 

Madara says『悪いもの』 (warui mono) or “evil things” here, which is the same way he refers to the so-called menace which fell out of the sky the Shinkai religion was supposed to keep in check.

This hasn't been proofed, so if there's any feedback, please DM me.

[superantikaijuwarmachine]

started crying at annie being the narrator telling the baby the story, Thanks Op!

Thinking about how stacks last words were "Smoke, I'm so scared. Love you."

Thinking about how Smoke pulls up Stack's pants to give him some dignity.

Thinking about how as he pulled up Stack's pants, he probably thought about dressing Stack to lay him to rest in his favorite suit and that may be part of the reason he snapped "this ain't no dead body, its Stack" at Annie to correct her and himself.

Thinking about how despite clearly telling Annie he doesn't believe in her hoodoo hours before, even cheap shotting her with asking "why didn't it protect our baby", he begs her for her power and skill to bring Stack back.

Thinking about how Smoke sits there holding Stack, his brother's blood covering him like the heaviest sin he's ever had to bear, not keeping Stack safe.

Thinking about how Smoke had gold on his teeth too on the other side, but we never get to hear people talking about it because he doesn't speak much and doesn’t smile until the very end, holding his daughter.

Thinking about how Smoke seems to almost view Stack's death as his own failure. How he can't go through with staking his little brother and cuts a deal. And how in doing that, Smoke allows himself to go handle Remmick, and later the Klan.

Thinking about how Smoke chose to stay behind and get rid of the klansmen. How all those people in the juke died on his watch, and he gets the opportunity to eliminate one more threat, and the excuse to not go on with the grief of being alone.

Thinking about Annie being the narrator even though the story doesn't follow her. Thinking about how she could be recounting the story to her baby while they wait for papa.

Thinking about Annie's wisdom and skill saving them at multiple points.

Thinking about how they all defer to Annie at once, no questions, and never dismiss her.

Thinking about how Annie's wisdom would have gotten them through the night. How Remmick saw that and knew that the weak links were going to be Grace and Smoke, playing their loved ones and facts against them.

Thinking about how Remmick seems to remember from cornbread in particular that Annie is clever and is thus a threat.

Thinking about how even though Annie is using Divination to foresee any hope, when she doesn't she meets that with understanding and grace as she tells Smoke what has to be done.

Thinking about how close Annie must have been with Mary. Mary was devastated enough to break the hive mind, and have Stack attempt to get her to safety.

Thinking about how no nonsense but still compassionate Annie and Smoke were.

Thinking.....

[superantikaijuwarmachine]

My mother used to say people were either spaghetti or a waffle.

a short poem, 01/13/2025

my father was a waffle, neat and everything could fit in a box.

my mother was spaghetti, everywhere and entangled.

I try so hard to be a waffle, but I am my mother’s child. I am scattered, stretched thin, only organized by the amount of space I take up.

How does a spaghetti become a waffle?

You cannot unboil the noodle, you cannot harden it back into a straight line.

It will never form a grid, organized and tidy.

The sauce will seep into and onto anything it touches.

I try so hard to be a waffle, but I will always be a spaghetti-waffle.

[superantikaijuwarmachine]

I don’t know why being an adult is literally so difficult for me. I try so hard. My aunt’s birthday passed and I had literally said to myself, “don’t forget! you have to say happy birthday!”

And I still forgot!

My grandma and my aunt are both deeply unserious and emotionally volatile people. Of course, my grandma texts me in a group chat with my aunt in it. “You didn’t wish your aunt a happy birthday, do it now.”

I’m trying to manage working, looking for a new job, trying to move out of my dad’s house, saving money, feeding myself a healthy diet and maintaining my sanity.

Am I being a big jerk? Yeah, probably! I’m just someone who should’ve said happy birthday but I didn’t.

I apologized of course but now it’s going to some ordeal that I have to go back to.

Maybe I’ll just always be a bad person and adult.

[superantikaijuwarmachine]

Fermented Anger

a rambling poem, 0/2/24/2025

I wish I could become a mass of mold on my bed, a deep nasty shade of blue-ish green.

I’d grow into the fabrics of my mattress, all the while my room becomes a pile of all my sadness.

Waiting, processing, fermenting, it’s all the same fucking thing.

I am a moldy cheese growing a rind, my anger rising into the outside.

My hopes and dreams are nothing, something to be taken and gnashed between two rows of teeth.

I can hear my father laughing as the mildew stains sink further into the walls.

My own juices create a humid environment, where the cycle never ends.

Let me become the mold on my mattress, let me die in my own shape on the bed.