#i watched a retrospective if it a few years ago that called it a flawed masterpiece and one of the comments that really stuck with me was

[ideahat-universe]

It's still Halloween right?

Lets talk about Twin Peaks inspired stuff. There's this game called "Who's Lila?" that gets it. Twin Peaks inspired quite a lot of people to create very weird and off beat stories about small town America but almost none of them, even the complete ripoffs really get what's going on with it. I mean to be fair, it was only a few years ago that someone made a really huge video breaking down what Twin Peaks was actually about with references and sources galore. Without that you could be like Jay Bauman and just consider the existence of the series of a fun novelty that is barely worth thinking about.

Almost treating a highly influential show as if it were some shlock that you watched for an internet retrospective.

So what do people get wrong? Well, the whole point of Twin Peaks was that the murder is the hook but the town itself is what causes you to stay. It's not that Laura Palmer's death doesn't matter, in fact it's the opposite. Laura Palmer's death is so substantial that you don't want to move onto to the next murder, you want to get to know the world that Laura left behind and who Laura was when she was alive.

David Lynch hated the fast food style murder mysteries were being written and wanted to make the ultimate anti murder mystery.

And, he failed. But not because he's a hack fraud writer. Both fans of the show and the producers wanted a resolution to the murder case. Once they did that Laura could be discarded mentally and the show declined. He made Fire Walk With Me to reignite value in knowing and caring about Laura Palmer but David Lynch is a moon man that doesn't want to spell things out even when it would benefit him greatly to do that maybe like once? Ya know. If it would save his entire franchise?

But no. After many years a season 3 is made but it's just Lynch killing his franchise as a way to curse those who were just too ungrateful and blind to see his vision.

Twin Peaks inspired media make the same mistake but without even knowing what David Lynch really wanted from the show so you get weird quirky middle America stories that either have a weird mystery cult or goes from one murder to many murders (and in the case of Deadly Premonition it's both).

And it's not all bad. In fact most of these things are good. Gravity Falls is probably the best show to ever do the face value aspect of Twin Peaks right.

But only Who's Lila has managed to capture the meta of Twin Peaks and what David Lynch was trying to do with it.

A user named Flawed Peacock has made a 7 hour video breaking down the game (oddly enough about as long as the video breaking down Twin Peaks) but you can play it for yourself if you like ARGs (and you have to if you want to figure out everything for yourself). But if you just want me to tell you now....

Who Lila is, is a meta question. Lila is a character whose motivations and actions and all the stuff that feels like Twin Peaks is in the game, but WHO LILA IS, is just an idea. The game morphs from the story about a murder to it really being about how a memetic idea is created and takes on a life of its own and exists only in our minds.

Lila exists as long as we think of them, they are an idea that feeds off of people's interest in what it is. Once you stop thinking of Lila, Lila exists a little less but idea's never die so Lila not only exists perpetually in the game but in the real world as well because all it takes is reading the word "Lila". Thinking about Twin Peaks inspired media, maybe even seeing the psone graphics or the art design or the sound design. Maybe just seeing this face

Or thinking of a murder mystery, or the demon Lilith makes you think of Lila and just like that Lila is back.

A demon is in your mind absorbing your thoughts and even though you played the game and you watched the 7 hour break down of the game and you are writing an article on Tumblr about Lila, you can't get rid of Lila.

And this is why Who's Lila is the best Twin Peaks inspired story to exist yet because all David Lynch was trying to do was sanctify the art of film media through the death of Laura Palmer, Laura Palmer was his Lila and the audience was supposed to keep asking who Laura Palmer is but they didn't care. They just wanted to find out who the murderer was and move onto the next case, but no one who plays Who's Lila will be moving onto another case. Sure, once you do absolutely everything, you can come to a conclusion you can settle with but by that point Lila is pretty well cemented into you. She's not a jumping off point for throw away content. It's the heart of the world her story takes place in.

Perhaps now that I understand and have seen this stratagem in action, I too can make a true Twin Peaks meta story....

[baconpal]

talkin bout fuckig manga

hey it’s me, haven’t had internet for over a week and i’ve been sick and uni and blah blah blah time for a rant about manga

this time its about  "Soredemo Machi wa Mawatteiru", tl;dr, good manga read it idk

lots of bullshit below the cut

Before anything I say gets too confusing or I go off on an insane tangent, just know my recommendation is that you read "Soredemo Machi wa Mawatteiru". It's not very easy to find online since it has an official English release (which my recommendation extends far enough to suggest I might pick up in the future, just to have it, but I am very stingy), but there's an alright torrent of all the volumes on your local anime torrenting website, and is at the very least worth the trouble of reading as such. There is also an anime that gets better as it goes, but the manga is my primary recommendation. Beyond this point I'm not gonna give much regard to what I write, so get ready for anything, read the manga and see if you agree with me, or don't and see if I care:

BOUT THE ANIME: The SoreMachi anime is one of those rare comedy anime you find where the animation and overall production is just really extra the entire time. Hopefully you know what I mean because I won't really be able to explain it any other way, it's simply one of those shows where the jokes are decent and it's a fun time for the most part. Unfortunately, the anime makes a couple of critical missteps that kept me from getting far into it when I first tried watching it about a year ago, and in retrospect seem even less reasonable.

Starting with the good, as an adaptation it does a good job with most chapters it covers, it properly sources where each chapter comes from incase you intend to read the manga and skip around to catch up, and the anime adapts some sections to have additional jokes that fit very naturally in to the story. It also covers up some of those problems only manga can have like having a concert segment without any actual music involved, until they invent mp3-paper it's just something we'll have to live with. Translation work was pretty good (I watched the [WhyNot] release for those who care), which is extra important for something as difficult to translate as jokes from another language. The set of episodes they chose to end on was very good, and was expanded to be a lot more impactful in the anime. If it wasn't for the last episode being as strong as it was I may have given up on finding the manga when I saw it wasn't super easy to read online.

As for what the anime fails in, some episodes feature some really blatant over-acting that doesn't really help make characters believable, and there's this obnoxious gag that continues the whole where through where most scenes have a few seconds long line from what is essentially a forced mascot character, which usually mean nothing and only serve to harm the pacing of many episodes (there isn't even any sort of equivalent bit in the manga so I really don't know why they did it, most of the anime original jokes are pretty good so I just really don't get it). The biggest issue the anime faces is that the source material is about 140 chapters, while the anime is only able to cover 24 chapters. This comes with a LOT of problems, the first being what I'd call the "required reading". SoreMachi is not a 1-note simple comedy where you can skip to any chapter and be completely okay; There are many small but meaningful subplots lying beneath, and characters have a fair bit of development throughout. What this means for the anime is that the first 3-4 episodes are just the first few chapters of the manga, which are a bit rough and not as good as the majority of the work, which is true of a lot of comics (god fuck I promise there will be more than a first chapter of my comic I promise it'll get better fuck). In terms of the anime by itself, I'd say episode 1 is decent, 2 is middling, and by 3/4 their still taking a while to introduce members of the cast, and I didn't immediately want to finish it. I put the show down for a long time until my internet started dying and I wanted to watch something fun. Slapping it back on at episode 5 I immediately had a great time and watched the rest of the show pretty soon after. While I understand the reasoning behind doing this, the anime does not pay off this structure, as beyond the first few episodes, the chapters start being presented out of release order and out of chronological order, kind of destroying any consistent throughline. This decision in and of itself isn't the worst, since the comic isn't always chronological, and the volume ordering is a bit different from the release ordering, but the inconsistency makes the first few episodes feel lessened without reason. The other large failure that comes with only animating about 1/7th of the entire work is that many themes and concepts that are core to the manga are not represented in the anime well at all. One of the biggest is the rare but unnerving supernatural chapters, of which only one is animated, and not a particularly good one. In order to talk about these themes I'll have to transition into talking about the manga itself, since they aren't part of the anime.

DA MANGA: So one last recommendation that you read the manga, the whole damn thing. Cus we're gettin into themes and character moments that take a long time to pay off, and obviously is all part of my interpretations, so if that stuff means anything to you don't let me ruin it for ya.

The title of the manga is, in essence, the entire manga's "punchline" in that every chapter could meaningfully end with simply the text "And yet the town still turns..." (My translation of the title, fuck "And yet, the town revolves" or "But the town moves"); by this I mean most chapters end in an anti-climax where a mystery is left unsolved, or a mystery is solved and undercut by the realization that life simply keeps on going without much change. This is used to essentially force your eyes open to all possibilities when reading, as the main character spends her time acting like a detective, and these mysteries end up as either misunderstandings, secrets, riddles, and sometimes something out of the ordinary happens that makes you unable to pin anything down firmly. Similarly, these endings aren't always read-and-forget scenarios. Several chapters come back in the form of a continued joke, a continued mystery, or contribute to some greater purpose later. Readers are properly rewarded for keeping everything they can in mind, while also tormenting such people with loose ends.

I enjoy Hotori as a protagonist due to her character being defined not in flaws and strengths, but in mindedness. Hotori seems like a simple "haha she's dumb" character to start, but consistently throughout she proves that her strengths are in memory, observation, and deduction, while lacking in some more common sense and abilities. Her brain works in strange ways that some people may or may not understand, such as her need to think through even the most trivial fictional scenarios, which I relate to deeply.

The art and paneling throughout are wonderful. Ishiguro Masakazu is one of those artists who draws very simple characters, but knows how to use details and depth to breath so much life into the artwork. He also clearly uses the occasional supernatural happenings as an excuse to draw what he loved, as all sorts of artistic depictions of the supernatural come out that simply look satisfying. These parts obviously meant a lot to him since he's been working on a primarily mystery-action manga that has a lot more of that stuff in it. (Also, as hindsight is 20/20, if you've read any of his new work you'll notice that the main character of it is eerily similar to a character who shows up very late in SoreMachi that the author obviously fell in love with, cus she just keeps coming back and even ends up with a really unsettling end to her character arc despite only being introduced as a component in a harmless mystery. Feel free to call me out for the same shit 30 years from now when I'll probably do the same shit)

I'd like to get into some of the major themes of this work, as a lot of them hit very close to my mind (which I guess is true of any theme you recognize for yourself, you wouldn't really "get it" if it didn't mean something to you...).

The simplest theme, again, comes from the title. The main character, Hotori, expresses a desire that the town she lives in continues going on, unchanged forever. This is obviously a fear of change, which ya know, same, but also an exploration of what it means to fear change. Hotori actively tries to keep businesses from closing down, keep friends from leaving, and keep relationships from changing, while simultaneously making all sorts of new relationships and solving mysteries. Hotori even comes to realize that simply learning the truth about something changes the world through your own perspective, and that such changes can't be undone. In spite of this, Hotori mostly gets her wish, any time she fears that a large change will impact the town, its resolved about the same as any other issue. Whether its a message that even time can't keep you from your loved ones and that change isn't worth fearing, or a concession that large changes to the setting would be a bad idea in terms of humor, I can't really decide. This theme reaches it's conclusion in what is one in a series of "ending" kinda chapters at the end of the series. Hotori is faced with a supernatural ethical situation, save her town from destruction at the cost of her existence, or live through the disaster, knowing her town and the people in it will forever be changed. While the actual result is that nobody disappears and nothing is lost, and the event may have simply been a strange dream, Hotori confidently decides that sparing the people in her town from a life altering event is worth giving up her memories with them. A kind of bold spit-in-the-face to the idea that change is okay, where we find that Hotori didn't fear change for herself, but rather for the people around her.

There's another major idea in this manga, which takes a very long time to pay off, and completes its arc at the very very very actual end of the series, the idea of "leading someone to be something". A character that rides that line between main and side character, Shizuka, is a writer of detective novels, who feels the best person to judge her works would be a version of herself without the bias of being the author. She tries to achieve this by leading Hotori to be interested in detective works (including her own) and generally be just like her, starting from a young age. The end result is a young girl dead set on being a detective herself (or at least another novelist), while Shizuka keeps her identity as an author secret. She then uses Hotori as a scapegoat for herself, attempting to see how she would solve various mysteries and use that as inspiration, and this is depicted as though Shizuka were some sort of villain, which she may feel like she is. The end result of it all, though, is that Hotori was likely already a detective-minded person, and that even if Shizuka pushed her down that path, it was Hotori's decision to continue down it, and the very end of the manga is a scene revealing that Hotori figured out Shizuka's secret at some point, and even still respected Shizuka and aspired to reach her, and the two accept each other for who they are. I enjoy this ending a lot, since as an artist I've worried that some of my love or aspirations for and from other artists came with an ulterior motive of wanting a better community for art to exist in, but people are people and will make their own decisions, and some day everyone may be able to become equals in a truly meaningful sense, where everyone is inspired by and guiding each other together.

So that probably didn't mean shit to nobody and I didn't even really talk about anything in the comic like most of the main characters or any of the shit goin on but ya know fuck you go read it, and thanks for reading this.

[popculturebuffet]

New X-Men Xtrospective Part 2: Germ Free Generation (Annual, #117-120)

Hello all you happy mutants! And welcome back to my look one of my faviorite runs of one of my faviorite super teams by one of my faviorite comic book writers!

For those of you just joining us.. it’s been a while. I did the first instalment of this retrospective back in early January as a present to my friend for christmas, as he had never read E is for Extinctoin and what with this run being vital to the current, utterly brilliant Krakoa era of X-Men. But with both Black History Month and Valentine’s day, February had no real room for this one and march ended up being just as crammed with me doing essentially the entire della arc of ducktales in one month. I didn’t mean for this retrospective to get pushed so far back, but since I gave up doing weekly coverage of Final Space I had some room on the schedule so this retrospective is back with a vengance with two entries this month and hopefully at least one a month afterword to keep it at a decent clip. 

Last time I covered the background of this run and didn’t really find much for the issues after, so I won’t have to spend as much time on background. 

So since i’ts been a few months, a refresher is probably in order

PREVIOUSLY, ON X-MEN:  Our merry mutants enterted a marvelous new era. As Charles redidciated to the dream with new equipment and a new uniforms our hero encounter a new villian: The Mysterious Cassandra Nova, a powerful telepath who used an uwitting patsy from the trask family and a defucnt sentinel factory to slaughter the mutant nation of Genosha, killing 16 million mutants in the most horrific act of genocide against mutants ever known. And the fact there has been more than one genocide against mutant kind MIGHT, just MIGHT be the reason they blackmailed for peace with life saving drugs instead of helping willingly and freely in the current comics. Just maybe. 

Cassandra was captured by the X-Men soon after but escaped and nearly got a hold of Cerebra only to be stopped thanks to a combination of former enemy, genoshan resident at the time of the genocide, and that bitch Emma Frost who snapped her neck and Charles himself who uncharacteristically shot Cassandra in the head. That night Charles took a bold step over that would change the X-Men forever and told the world on live tv:

While all of this was going on we got caught up on the team’s personal struggles, currently consisting of Cyclops, Jean Grey, Beast and Wolverine with Emma joining as of the issue we’re about to cover. Beast is grappling with a secondary mutation that makes him look like Aslan, the jesus of narnia and all lions. Meanwhile Scott and Jean are grappling with their non existant sex life as Cyclops possesion by Apocalypse shortly before this story has severely rattled him and caused him to close himself off emotionally. 

So that’s where we pick up. Our heroes are now no longer hiden saftely in the shadows from a world that hates and fear them but are out front and center with the world watching. And we’ll see both how that helps their cause and how it puts them directly in the cross hairs under the cut.  Content Warning: This review discusses Transphobia and a scene involving a school shooting. If either of these are a trigger for you or something you do not want to read about  please skip this part of the retrospective for your own well being. Thank you and have a lovely day. 

The Man From Room X:

We have three stories today: an annual that introduces our final team member and the main villians of our next arc, a one off that moves the main plot for the first 12 issues along, and a three part arc about said villains.  Before we get into the Annual, I have to talk about it’s weird gimmick: The issue is entirely sideways. I don’t mean it’s bad though some parts are problematic I mean when bought it’d be on it’s side and in my trade I have to flip the whole thing over on it’s side to read it. It’s just a .. weird choice. Not the weirdest thing about this issue somehow but not unexpected from Grant as they like to play with the formula. 

We open in said Room X, a location in China where a mutant named Xorn is kept and showed off to a mysterious group of dickweeds in suits representing “Mr. Sublime”.  His jailer, General Aao Jun,, shows him off as most bad guys would : By undoing his helmet and thus disntegrating two innocent children just by looking at them. Sublime says they have a deal. 

Meanwhile also in China the X-Men are there for a funeral and Emma and Scott trade insulting questions back in forth: She mocks him about his lack of sex with Jean lately and he brings up her criminal past. As for why Emma’s still with the x-men.. it’s out of pragmatisim. WIth Genosha gone, the x-men are the saftest faction to throw in with. 

As for why the X-Men are in China, Charles has rapidly expanded his operations now he’s public by setting up X-Corps, a multinational humantarian aid organization dedicated to helping mutants in need wherever they sprout up. He’s set up offices in Hong Kong, Amsterdam, Mumbai and Melborne. 

He’s also half assed it, at least for the Hong Kong office and only gave them two employees: Domino, who those of you not as familiar with the comics may remember from deadpool and Risque.. who I honestly had never heard of before New X-Men and frequently forget existed. I just looked her up for the first time and she’s a minor mutant who was an associate of X-Force and Warpath’s love intrest. She could compress matter causing it to implode. My assumption here is that Morrison simply picked a minor mutant at random for the job. 

But yeah naturally with only two mutants charged with, according to domino “All of asia” went horribly and the x-men are there for Risque’s funeral and to find out what happened. Unsuprisingly it’s tied into our cold open: Risque had found evidence of a mutant trafficking operation and died fighting them off and Dom is naturally f eeling in over her head since said operation involves the chinese goverment, who according to her exccute most mutants at birth and John Sublime and his cult. 

We soon see a press confrence from this asshole and find out what his deal is: Sublime is the head of the U-Men, a group that belivies they are a “third species” of mutants trapped in human bodies that deserve to have the surgery to make them into mutants, and thus wear weird suits until the world is pure and allows them to have surgery for it. 

Yeahhhh this.. this is really fucking uncomfortable and is going to be present throughout today’s piece so let’s just go ahead and rip that band-aid off:  The U-Men come off as HIGHLY transphobic. They use terms similar to trans people call themselves trans species and are trapped inside a body they don’t belong in. It’s VERY uncomfortable to read as a result and something that hadn’t really sunk into till thsi reading but once it had.. oh god does this not age well. 

The one thing that keeps this from runing the run and Grant Morrison as a whole for me.. is that I do not think for one second it was intentional. Grant themself is genderqueer, nonbinary and a cross dresser. None of this means they CAN’T be prejudice, being Queer does not magically make you immune to being prejudiced. But before this Grant had the genderqueer sentient street Danny the Street over in doom patrol and a trans main character in his book the invisibles, Lord Fanny. And given New X-Men’s biggest flaw as a whole is clumsy early 2000′s unforutnate implications such as a good chunk of the things about Cyclops affair with Emma, we’ll get to that at the right time, Angel in the next arc and Dust, who was introduced as from afganastan wearing an outfit not seen in the country and speaking a language not spoken in the country. Grant didn’t make these mistakes TWICE, it’s why I still have respect for them, and this won’t be the first or last comic i’ve forgiven for being stupid for it’s time. But I will still call Grant out when I see it. Just because I respect an author just because they changed my life does not mean I won’t call them out when they fuck up. And if they prove to be truly vile, have harmed someone or what have you I will cut them the fuck out of my life. I’ve done it with JK Rowling, Warren Ellis, Brad Jones and Joss Whedon. I would do it with Grant if I truly belivied they were transphobic and instead didn’t just write something very stupid without thinking the metaphor through 20 years ago. 

So anyway back to the comic book bollocks as Wolvie and Dominio prepare for an infiltration and flirt a bunch. We also find out Jun is a mutant himself with a power only Grant could dream up: his skin, hair and what have you that falls off him turns into a naked golem for a bit before expiring. And if you hadn’t read this issue before reading this review, yes that actually happened. While the first arc had a BIT of Grant’s trademark batshit insanity, the series REALLY starts to pick it up from here: This issue has a mutant with functioning star for a head, a poorly thought out bucnh of sci fi new age organ theives, and a general whose power is “makes naked clones out of his dandruff”. Oh and his fondest wish?

I just... I don’t know how to respond to that. I don’t know how you respond to an old man’s weird murder fetish that he tells a somehow even creepier cult leader while said cult leader is paying him to buy a star man, and their both surronded by the creepy old guy’s skin golems that weirdly look like mudokons. Look i’ve  read Grant’s entire utterly bonkers run on doom patrol. I’ve seen a man who looks like a question mark use a bicycle that makes everyone high like their on LSD for president. And THIS is what breaks me. 

So while.. THIS is going on, Dom and Wolverine plan to do it all night long on the professor’s credit card, no really he gives all his professors carte blanch to use school fun, and inflitrate, Dom through the elvator this horrorshow just took place in and Wolvie james bond style. Also I gotta say I REALLY love how Morrison writes Domino. She’s wittiy, entertaining and her power is as awesome as always, super luck if you didn’t know. It’s a real shame he didn’t add her to the team: She wasn’t on any other x-teams, with X-Force having been rebranded into X-Statix by this point. She would’ve been a fun addition to the cast. 

Naturally wolverine is found out.. but that was the entire plan, for him to serve as a distraction then cut his way to domino while she steals something from the vault. As for the rest of the X-Men, Cyclops, Beast and Emma are all downstairs in the parking garage and find a secret entrance. Jean is not on this trip and that’s a major plot point for this run. This is where Risque died.. and it only get’s worse when Hank goes inside, finding a bug like child, basically htink a giant caterpillar but with tons of human arms inttead of legs with her wings cut off. 

Thankfully as Logan and Dom escape above, the U-Men are dumb enough to storm down bellow.. and while they incapacitate beast with some launched tiny knives, designed to incapcicate but leave them in tact for harvest, Emma beats the shit out of them and get the info out as only she can....

Granted she could’ve just turned back to normal and used her telepathy.. but what fun would that be? Plus they have blockers and you know CUT UP A FUCKING CHILD. SO yeah fuck them, let emma have her fun. 

Thanks to her they find out the U-Men are a front for illegal organ harvest, and while they can’t prove sublimes attached Emma suggests killing him.  Good idea but Scott suggests the lighter approach and we find out what Dom stole, a key, something Emma can psychcially scan. She warns it might take her a bit to get something.. only to be flooded instantly and we find out who the man in the box was. Shen Xorn... i’ll let emma tell you more herself. 

It’s stuff like this why, despite some serious flaws like the U-Men debacle and some stuff to come, some I mentioned above other that’s just with the plot that i love this run. Morrison just gets how to really tell an x-men story and the real tragedy of being a mutant. That just for being diffrent, you get shut out, or in this case thrown into a box when you could’ve and should’ve been something more. As emma turns herself to diamond to deal with the psychic backlash, Beast has some solemn words to share. 

That night Scott rests in his bedroom while presumibly hearing some truly horrific and sexy things next door while talking to jean before clocking out.. only for Emma to head in in a sexy dress with champagne. What happened? Well we won’t know for sure for most of the run. 

The next day the U-Men prepare to load and we get some scrap of what the idea was supposed to be: John talks to Ao Jun about his procedures. We see wings crudely sewen to his back and his throat implaants hurting “But one day I will fly”. THe IDEA is their supposed to be lunatics, people who envy mutantkind but don’t actually respect their culture or their sense of personhood. It’s not the worst idea and had Grant not used trans termnology for htis, it would’ve been a great one. I think he INTENDED for them to be coopting the idea of being trans and what not to maks their true intentions.. which is problematic due to debates like the ones on bathrooms where a lot of transphobic asshats make the bad faith argument a bunch of people are going to pretend to be trans to assault people. 

We’re.. we;’re not even to the main storyarc yet. 

But things soon go wrong as Xorn’s starhead starts to collapse into a black hole, with no solution as the x-men took the key to his helmet.. and assault the compound. Turns out the star collapse thing is Jun’s revenge on humanity for lockig him down here and he gets his neck snapped.  Scott has a solution though.. and it’s stuff like this why I fucking love Scott Summers and get annoyed when people call him “boring”: He realizes Xorn is comitting sucicide.. so he’s going to talk him out of it. Not just for everyone else but he deserves to live. And while Emma points out only logan among htem knows chinese and she can’t get through to Xorns’ head due to the way his brain works, Scott has a simple workaround: Use the nearest chineses speaker to teach Scott chinese. So.. with that he talks to Xorn. 

And that my friend is Scott Summers. A man who faced with powerful man whose given up, whose lost all hope... convinces him he can still go on. That living’s better than dying.. and that it does get better. The issue closes with Xorn basking in the sunlight for the first time in decades while Domino sweats having an extremley powerful unknown mutant out in the world. Scott’s already thought of that.. and signed him up with the x-men. Granted it won’t be until our next article that he actually fully joins the team, but w’ell get to that next time. 

This issue is great... while the U-Men stuff is pretty bad and isn’t going to get better, the tale of xorn is excitiong, Aao Jun is an intresting antagonist and the sideways gimmick suprisingly works. So now we’ve finshed our apitizer let’s get on to the main course. 

Danger Rooms:

We open in well.. the Danger Room with Beast training a new student. 

This is Beak. Beak is my faviorite character Morrison came up with and one of my faviorite X-Characters. Beak is a bird like boy who can fly, it’s just a struggle and due to looking diffrent and not having the most impressive power has very low self esteem. It’s also part of something Morrison took a concerted effort to do: introduce more mutants with genuinely odd apperances and drawbacks. Like we saw with Ugly John last time and Aao Jun in the previous issue, Morriosn really likes adding weird mutants but he also uses it to give a genuine downside to being one. While this isn’t NEW to x-men, Morriosn upped the scale and number of characters like this with weird powers and apperances. We see a bunch of human passing ones too but the backgrounds just jammed with all sorts of unique designs and students. It’s also the point where the school became far more crowded like the movies, a good call on my part both to help those coming in from the movies, and to help sell the mutant baby boom going on. After all it wouldn’t make sense if the school was just about 5-7 students and a bunch of grown adults doing superhero stuff like usual would it.

But we get to see that Hank is a good teacher, as he reminds the boy that he’s getting better and won’t be an x-man overnight, and worries about him to the professor, wanting the boy not to slip through the cracks, figuratively, and not to feel like an outcast.. especaily here. But Hank dosen’t feel blue for long, metaphorically he was blue long before he became the lion minus the witch and the wardrobe, as he has a date to night.. and so does Charles. 

Or rather he did.. his girlfriend trish, a long time love intrest of his and a reporter.. breaks up with him. Over voice mail. While in washington. And the reasons she gives are not great

Yes Hank’s transformation is radical.. but not only was it not his choice... she’s being a coward, sending the message it’s okay to dump someone because hteir a mutant or because they happen tobe diffrent and that efffects your career. Again it’s moments like this that make the run soar over the more awkward bits. 

Meanwhile Logan’s off doing logan stuff, i.e. gazing at a deer. Wow. Jean followed him. Both notice a space ship: Despite recently outing himself as a mutant, leading to an increased number of students and a bunch of rioting morons at the gates, Charles has decided NOW’S a good time to take a vacation to the Shiar empire. As for why Jean’s really out here, her marriage to Scott isn’t doing so good and while Logan encourages her to stay it’s just not that simple: Her telekenisis is coming back, stronger than ever. She feels the most alive she’s been while he’s shutting her out and feeling his deadest. She tries to turn to logan for comfort but he shuts her down. Just wait two decades jean... he’ll open up to a threesome. In all seriousness though having Jean try and come onto Logan .. will backfire slightly on later storylines. But we’ll get to that eventually. 

In the basement Hank is studying Cassandra or rather a virtual version of her since her body is naturally in storage. And he’s found out something disturbing: She’s Charles Genetic Twin.. oh and it gets way worse. The Professor’s weird behavior? Barely staffing the hong kong office, leaving suddenly with rioters t the gates, outing himself? About that...

Cassandra tourtures Hank with the possiblity he’s devovling and then tries to mind controlli him into cleaning himself with his diploma when Beak enters. The good news is this allows hank to shake off her control and tackle her, showing off why hank mccoy is fucking awesome in the process. 

That is the Hank McCoy I know, love.. and miss dearly. The one we’ll probably never get back sadly after what others did and what Percy’s had to do to reconclie with all they did. 

Unfortunately beak being around means cassandra can force him to beat beast into a coma with his bat. She plans to tear Charles dream down around him and make him watch.. and cryptically says he tried to kill her. She then cheerfully leaves Jean in charge.. and talks about just how much damage one could do with an entire interstellar empire in the wrong hands....

This issue is also excellent and sets up the next two arcs nicely while giving us a nice peak in hank’s head. Great stuff. The artist also hid the word sex in a lot of the images see if you can find them. 

Germ Free Generation Issue 1: 

So now we get into our main story for today. This story and the one before it were drawn by Ethan Van Sciver whose a talented artist.. but also highly contrversial for being a conservative. I myself.. don’t know what he’s said or did, though calling himself “Canceld Superstar’ on twitter really isn’t a good sign. So I really can’t comment on it but I also know someone would mention it if I didn’t bring it up and if you know what he did please enlighten me. 

So we open with a school shooter who also scooped out a guys eyes and is part of the U-Men. He get shot by the swat team while making his speech> it’s an effective opening but one that’s become more uncomfortable to read with each passing day due to school shootings going up and up in number. And mass shootings in general and I... I need a second. I need something to relax me

Thank you Stoopy. Your doing Odd’s Work. 

So the news reports on this and we soon see how Jean watches the news.. by using Cerebra to read the minds of every person on the planet. Neat. Everyone’s talking about them. We also get a hint for later as we hear on the suicide of one martha johanson who wrote the note in her own blood. She’ll be important later.... and I mean that both in the context of this retrospective and for the fact she’ll go on to be part of x-men in perpetuity. 

This is also where another great concept of Morrison’s pops up: Mutant culture. After all mutants are a minority, they should have their own culture. It’s something Hickman’s era has taken and ran with, but it’s a damn good idea and one that it shoudln’t of taken almost 20 years for someone else to use given Decimation was undone way back around 2012 in Avengers Vs X-Men, aka that event half hte articles on the mcu around the fox sale used as either their image for the article or asked about happneing. And yes that is a pet peeve of mine: while I do think like Civil War AVX could use a movie version to make it better, I don’t think it’s an event that could be done right away and would have to be almost entirely redone anyway given the context for AvX is entirely couched in decimation i.e. something NO ONE wants in any x-adaptation. 

So it turns out while watching the news in a next level way Jean is also talking to Logan. “Stay out of my personal fantasies”. Yeah I .. I don’t think your ready for a hairy canadian dry humping a transformer.. specifically killbison. And yes.. that is an actual transformer and why yes, I have been waiting to bring him up. 

And he is , and I am not making any of this up, part of a group of decpticons known as the breastforce. Your life is better for knowing that and you are welcome. 

Anyway as you’d imagine a genocidal old woman in her brothers’ body leaving the X-Men to fend for themselves after having a teenager bludgeon one into a coma after publicly outing them with a rabid bunch of bigoted morons at the gates has not gone great. Henry is still out and despite the short staffing Jean needs logan to stay where he is as he’s close to an emerging mutant and within range to go get her. 

Emma of course has never been so fucking irate in her whole life and is plotting various forms of psychic tourture with the help of her proteges the Stepford Cucokoo, 5 teenage mutants who functoin best as a unit and are easily some of MOrrison’s most prominent additions to the x-cast. Unlike a lot of the x-kids, they’ve been featured prominently in every era of x-men after this including the current one. 

Jean decides for a less “Make them hate us even more” approach, but no less pissed off, opening the gates and going out directly to chew out the assembled bigoted morons, pointing out the ones carrying “Mutants Go Home!” signs are especailly dumb as this IS her home. And while she dosen’t point this part out, it’ the same for all of them: most of the mutants are either adults who choose to live here, teenagers who along with their parents choose to live here, or in the majority teens who have no where else to go due to either being abandoned by their families or it being way to dangerous for said families for them to stay due to bigoted assholes like the ones holding mutants go home signs. 

A member of the press asks if she’s willing to talk to the media and she refutes most of his bullshit allegations: He asks if their building an army, she and Scott respond they are not and are simply educating mutants and protecting them. When he counters with the fact their living weapons and wearing uniforms... she counters with the fact she’s wearing them to protect herself, rightfully, from people like her, and the x-men are an aid orginzation going where needed to protect the world and while asshole points out no one apointed them.. jean shuts him down by pointing out there are no mutants in goverment and a genocide just happened, so someone has to do the job. Another random asshole tries to pipe up with “Genosha declared war on us” and Emma senses this is just going to go round and round and round and simply presses the assembled mob’s “bliss buttons” in their brains to knock them out. Non violent but honestly warranted: A dangerous part of bigoted assholes is they’l bring up racist bullshit to try and couch it like an actual conversation. None of these complaints really hold water if you looked at the x-men’s history for more than 5 minutes. Yes Charles is training them to fight and yes hte ingial class was an army but every class since has only been trained for self defense: they still got into adventures and what not, but it was usually by their own choice or because they were thrust into them by circumstance. Xaviers is exactly what jean said and endudgling these morons, while good on paper, only makes them seem legit. 

Jean retreats to the infirmary where she’s on the verge of breaking down from the sheer weight of everything. Cyclops proves that despite not being the best husband right now... he still loves his wife, offering to go look into Sublime with Emma and hoping Hank wakes up. Turns out his mind for now is a big blank room.

So she can’t get any info off his skull, and neither of the two think what happened with Beak adds up. Something is up here. Their also coming down with colds which will be important later. And just as important.. Magneto is becoming a symbol among people and merch sales with his image are on the rise.  We then get this. 

So Jean is trying to be a supportive, honest wife, and while the questions incredibly insulting.. his answer is equally so. Spoilers, as mentioned we do get an answer long after this.. and they did not. So Jean is wrong to be suspcious, at this point, but is at least trying to be polite about it and gave him the benifit of the doubt.. and Scott basically said he slept with her without actually saying it despite not having to. You could’ve said “no we did not have sex, we simply talked all night”. It’s not ENTIRELY better given the horrible state of their relationship right now, but it’s still better than HEAVILY implying he rocked her body to the break of dawn for no damn reason. 

So we meet our next major addition to the cast Angel Salvador, an abused teen who is a mutant.. and whose abusive and molesting step dad beats her and throws her out over this. The scene’s a bit overdone, coming off like an after school special.. but it’s what happens AFTER that’s truly heartwrenching. 

A poor scared teenager clutching herself, finding herself homeless alone and desperatly wishing she wasn’t what she was. It’s just a striking image and shows how well Grant uses the mutant metaphor. I could easily see myself in that position had my parents not been good peopl and had I come out far sooner as bi. The idea of desperatly hoping your not what you are simply becaus eof what hell it brings, despite all the joy it can bring too. . it’s heartbreaking to hear. 

Naturally though things don’t get much better as the next morning the U-Men have found her, calling her a freak and successfully kidnapping her.. if only because while she uses acid spit to escape, she flies into a power line. 

We then get Sublimes meeting with Emma and Scott and a BETTER use of teh u-men as while Grant made the horrible mistake of calling them “transpecies”, seriously what the fuck were you thinking, the way sublime frames it here is a MUCH better, much less accidently bigoted concept. 

The idea isn’t bad: A group of humans jealous of the mutants powers, blatantly ignoring the horrible downsides and mountain of persecution that comes with being one. Grant just made the mistake of couching in in Trans metaphors, clearly trying to have the U-Men steal from Trans People too as a way to make themselves seem legit. And I say if you want superpowers.. fine.. wanting to be a superhero or a mutant is fine, the issue with the U-Men is their copoting a culture, trying to be part of mutantkind without having any of the drawbacks and by actively butchering them. It’s why the concept HAS shown up elsewhere; it’s not TERRIBLE, Grant just made a bad creative choice that’s only gotten worse as Transphobia has ramped up further and further. 

Sublime denies it when our heroes bring up Hong Kong.. but naturally he’s simply just keeping them talking long enough to bring out his trump cards, an army of u-men and a brain in a jar he uses to incapacitate them.. and announces his plan to use the school as an organ farm for his third species. 

Meanwhile Logan finds the U-Men in their truck preparing to rip angel apart.. and given he snikit’s soon after.. i’ts very clear whose REALLY about to get ripped apart. 

Germ Free Generation Part 2: 

Part two begins wth Sublime monologoging about how Mutantkind are just cattle to them and reveals the brain is martha’s, her sucicide having been faked and her brain currently being controlled to use as a weapon. 

So while Johnny monlogues we find out what happened with Wolverine last issue he didn’t cut up the guys yet as they fired their little flichete guns at him... it was about as useful and effective as you’d expect and the massacre you were expecting occurs. Though in a nice bit of reality the fact wolverine’s soaked in blood and just killed a bunch of blood shockingly does not make the already frighttend teen feel he’s safe and she spits acid on him. Logan pours some stuff on the acid, figuring rightly a black ops murder farmacy would have something to counteract it and tells her she’s safe now .. and tells the guy behind him not to try it. He’s stupid and does anyway and likely gets a claw to the head off panel. 

They go to a diner to eat and find a local asshole who threatens them with a shot gun to leave once angel uses her power to digest and goes on a rant about how he snapped his own son’s neck to prevent him being born a freak. Just.. fucking hell this arc is not good for my depression. We get some more angst from Angel and whiel her dialouge is not the best, i’ts a too bit mark millar flavored edgelordy for my taste and if I wanted that i’d go read Ultimates or Ultimate X-Me, her pain is real and Logan helps her through it. 

Back at the Mansion the U-Men are on their way to strike, whlie Jean unaware continues to buckle under the weight of all the shit she’s had to deal with, feeling SOMETHING is making them weak with the colds and something worse is going on and thus tries going to Beak’s mind instead and gently helps talk him through it, showing her grace and empathy.. and in return finding out Charles was the one responsible. The alarms flair up and Jean tries calling the police now that’s an option.. but it goes exactly how you’d expect. 

Also a second artist took over for this issue and the next Igor Kordey. He’s fine, but not nearly as good as Quitely or Van Sciver and it shows. Meanwhile Beast awakens and heads for the body drawer with Cassandra’s body, and professor’s mind in it. 

However Jean’s finally had enough and got her second wind. She’s outgunned, outmanned and left to her own devices. And she’s fucking fed up with it. She steels herself and assembles the students. This is obviously a last resort.. but some of them can defend themselves and their going to need to. But today they won’t be learning.. they’ll be teaching and as the U-Men call them defensless Jeans simply asks “Are you sure about that?”

Germ Free Generation Part 3:

So we come to the finale of this arc. Angel is once again an ungreatful brat to logan and he opts to just leave her there if sh’es going to be like that pointing out being a mutant sucks, it’s going to keep sucking.. and she needs to deal with it instead of lashing out at him and herself over it. 

We get back to the U-Men, one of whom is utterly flabergasted they want to him to cut of Cyclops head... only for Emma to awaken.. and take back her regular form meaning she has her telepathy back. The only reason they were able to get her ealier is she was in diamond mode which is stronger but lacks that, a nice way to check and ballance her new powers. She quickly takes them out and disables Martha. 

Back at the school we get one of Jean’s definting moments for me and a true chance to show how badass she can be. Before this while Morrison wrote her well, and his version’s still my favoirite, she didn’t really get to do much and was motly in the background. This arc has been her time in the limelight, having trouble grappling with all the stress of running this place by herself.. and emerging from it stronger, more capable and ready to kick some racist weirdo ass. She tries a few diffrent tactics first, having a mutant with a voice power project it to make them think their san invisible army and having the cuckoos fuck with their heads but when both fail, Jean REALLY gets to show off. Thier blade ammo gets turned into a cool looking 3 dimensioinal shape with her telekneisis, and in a cool moment and a wise use of something gross makes the only one of them with useable powers throw up, before issuing a badass boast, wreathed in flames all while she crumples their guns into uselessness. and tears open their suits. 

Bad ass.. and logan and Angel arrive just in time for the cecendo as hte u-men flee in terror

The Phoenix has been Reborn. Jean Grey has risen from the ashes and returned to full power. 

Meanwhile Sublime is pankcing.. and it gets worse when Emma shows up, fully enraged after all of this and has some words for him. 

Iconic. Emma prepares to drop him out of a building but Scott rightly tries to get her to back off, pointing out the pr nightmare it’d create and the fact that they have enough evidence ot shut him down. Martha however has other ideas and gets him to let go of his own accord, falling to his death.. but given he’d aranged a stunt for the press apparently this gives our heroes deniability and Martha her revenge. 

So we end this three parter as Jean revels in her new power, and Beast returns with an announcment:

Final Thoughts for Germ Free Generation:  This arc is pretty good if forgetable. The struggle of Jean to run the school herself and her rising from the ashes of her own pain at the end with the power of the phoenix at the end is fantastic, finally both giving her a chance to shine.. and a worrying sign for her friends given what her phoenix force copy whose memories she has a copy of, long story, did is awesome. The other parts are okay and ehhhhhhhhh though. Scott and Emma’s investigation into the u-men while having a really good climax, is pretty standard x-men stuff, and Wolverin’es trek with angel is just okay with Angel being highly intolerable during this arc, with Morrison trying a bit TOO hard to make her a “realistic” teen instead coming off as horribly unplesant. She’s supposed to just be lashing out but comes off obnxious as a result. That said this arc does furhter a lot of Morrisons best idea and introduce more, and is a great setup for our next arc, which we’ll get to in two weeks. Soooo

Next Time On X-Men: We find out just what the hell Cassandra Nova is, what her plans are, and what happened with her and charles as our heroes come down with a cold as the might of the shiar empire bears down on them. It’s IMperial in two weeks. 

Next Time ON This BLog: Speaking of long Delayed Projects, I finally return to The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck as a young Scrooge starts his prospecting career, learning the ins and outs from a rich new mentor, and finding the price tag striking it rich comes with. Raid a copper hill with me tommorow. 

If you liked this review, subscirbe for more, join my patreon, and if there’s a comic you’d like me to cover suggest it in the comments or outright comission a review from me via ask. See you at the next rainbow

[piprocrastinator]

You Touch, I Touch

MewGulf

Gulf takes a retrospective look at himself and how he sees Mew. (alternately he likes Mews touch but isn’t sure how to ask for it yet.)

Length: 3732

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24749014

or

Gulf let out a tiny huff, rubbing his arms under the blanket. Not because he was cold, no, he was… itchy?

Not that Gulf was itchy, he wasn’t. Well kind of.

More like he had an itch.

Why did he have an itch and what was the itch for? Well, those are the question Gulf really wanted to figure out. Those same questions he’d been asking himself for the past couple days, no scratch that weeks now and he’s pretty sure he has an answer but he also really doesn’t because he’s not emotionally prepared for the answer.

He huffs again letting his hands fall to his lap as he sits alone on the couch, watching everyone mill about the room laughing and talking. Which is normal. It’s normal for him to sit off to the side, everyone knows he keeps to himself until needed, when their ready or when they want to, they come to him and he’ll join in conversation then. But until that time, he'll stay here, on the couch. And that's ok.

Or at least it was, until Mew took him under his wing, metaphorically and maybe a little literally, and started to bring him into the conversation. Mew was normally in the middle of the talking. He went to where the people were, he brought laughter like a gift. When Gulf was with him, they were in the conversation.

When Gulf was alone, he was here, on the sidelines. He was ok being on the sidelines, that wasn’t the problem. That wasn’t the itch.

It was a workshop, one of the few that basically everyone involved in the project was involved in, so the room was adequately packed. Which was another reason Gulf is waiting for people to come to him, interaction was.. tiresome to say the least. He wouldn’t really classify himself as an introvert but he probably leans more to that than extravert. Plus it takes him a while to warm up to people. He has gotten good at pretending, at least when he’s got the power of Mew beside him.

Gulf leans back into the cushion - they were lumpy and not that soft but it was fine- pulling his blue blanket to his chest. His eyes following Mew as he walks across the room to talk to Mild and Kaownah.

The itch was back. (Or rather he seems to be more aware of the itch in the presence of Mew.) He could feel it, right there under his skin. Crawling and pulling and just all over being a distraction to his otherwise sleep-filled time. He couldn’t understand it. Or rather he refused to understand it so that he didn’t have to accept its meaning. It’s part of his oblivious persona. And quite frankly, if he could purposely be oblivious to the itch he would and sometimes did.

Now though, was not one of those times.

It had been happening more and more recently too. Which made it extra difficult to ignore.

He would be fine. Everything would be fine at least until it wasn’t. He’s not really sure what will happen in the future to the ever-present and slowly growing tug of his soul. He’s normally a go with the flow sort of person and this blatant defiance of going against the flow was really messing with his groove to quote a certain emperor from that Disney movie.

It’s not fair that the more he ignores the itch the more he feels it. He feels the ache in his chest, the cold over his skin, the somber wind in his ears. He can practically hear the melodramatic music playing as the background movie in his own personal telenovela. At least that meant he was one of the leads in the show right? Only the leads get the really good music. (it’s not true but he’s going to keep pretending that it is because you know the most oblivious people are the happy ones right?... He was obliviously optimistic. )

He pulls the blanket closer, as tight as he could make it on his own, rubbing his arm absently. His head lulls on the back of the couch but his eyes stayed focused on Mew.

Fucking Mew.

Mew talking. Laughing. Engaging in interaction with everyone in the room like the social butterfly filled with charisma that he was.

And Gulf, he was on the couch, alone. Stupid itch. Stupid Mew. He wanted to sleep.

He pulls his feet up onto the couch tucking the under him so he can lean against the arm of the couch. He knew part -ok a very large and significant part, so much so that it might even be part of the main problem- of the reason for his unrest at the moment stemmed from Mew being ... there and not … here. He tries not to pout but he knows he’s not doing a very good job at it as he feels his lower lip puff out. He’s definitely pouting, and anyone within viewing distance could probably see it too.

He realized a little while ago that if they were in the same room together there was this… beacon, a sign inside of him that said comfort is near. Go to it. You belong there. In the beginning, it was a soft call, like the whispering breeze but then the more times they spent together, the more time Gulf spends in the rays of joy and sunshine that is Mews smile, wrapped in the sturdy roots that are his arms pulled against the solid chest that only knew warmth radiating from his core, the beacon became a siren. Both the loud annoying kind that warns you for tsunamis or twisters but also the kind in the waters of the ocean, getting louder and louder the closer you got until you've wrecked into the rocky cliffs, only to be drug down into the endless pits of darkness that are his eyes by the treacherous needs of the human soul. His mortal soul at the ever beckoning call, a call he likes to ignore but can’t.

Gulf exhales but its more like a sigh with meaning.

Mew had become his habit.

He knew from the first moment he saw Mew in that crowded room at auditions that there was something about Mew, something that called for him. And he fell for it. He fell for the call. He fell for everything about Mew in seconds. His soft caring eyes, his cheerful laughter that made you want to join in, his smile that melted even the iciest of hearts.

Mew wasn’t perfect, not by any means but he was human. A beautiful, kind, and caring human. Who gave the best hugs. Grand 'A' hugs. No one who’s gotten a hug from Mew would deny that fact.

There he said it.

He said it and is maybe trying to decide if he wants to take it back but it’s only to himself so he’ll let it slide. He gave the best hugs because everything about Mew felt like home regardless of if you knew him for two seconds, two weeks, or almost two years.

His theory is that Mews hugs were the best because of his strong arms, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, his steady breathing coupled with his heartbeat (much like the beating drum from the Pocahontas song). Then there was pat pat pat to his tummy like music that relaxed him more than any repetitive movement should. But it did. No matter the situation one simple touch from Mew and he immediately felt the calming effects and the closer they were the better he felt. As long as Mew was close he felt protected and safe. Mew would guide him. Care for him. Love him.

Oh gosh, Mew had the biggest heart and Gulf wanted to dive in and stay forever. To ask Mew to be there for him and with him, forever.

Maybe that was too much to put on one person, to expect so much of them with nothing to give in return but he did. He except and wanted it. He was selfish that way.

He blames Mew and his vendetta against personal space. Gulf has developed a habit. A habit of Mew never being too far away from him, always within reach and most of the time touching in some aspect. On the days when they were apart, he felt it. Deep in his core, he felt it. It was silly and he kind of hated it because that’s not fair to Mew who already gives so much to him. For him to ask for more, to ask for calls when they couldn’t see each other, to ask for a time when Mew wasn’t busy under guise of playing mobile games together, to ask for food dates because he missed Mew.

It’s weird to have a habit form because of some else. Gulf never imagined there a time when he would prefer closer over further away. He has never been the touchy type. Nothing past the normal stuff of friendship. The usual pats of the back or sitting close when talking or even the occasional arm over the shoulder. Friend stuff. He preferred not to do it himself but sometimes he let others close the distance. With his ex’s, he was touchy enough, and it was always a little weird. He just preferred distance because he was never good at initiating touch. Most of the time he didn’t know how to. And it had always been fine. No one questioned him or thought it was weird or tried to change it. It was fine.

But Mew.

Mew is ... the best hugger.

Mew loved touching and being close and even though in the beginning he asked before doing anything, he was still significantly more touching than Gulf was used to.

But he never disliked it. He'd never even thought to. The touches, Mew, had always been more than welcome in Gulf’s mind.

After the almost year and a half that he’d known Mew, he could name every flaw the other had, and not one of them was enough for him to feel anything less for Mew than he did in those first few moments of meeting.

Happiness and safety.

Maybe that’s why the habit he’s formed has created an itch. An itch saying that he wants Mew close, he wants his warmth, safety, and home within hugging distance no matter the time or the place.

How does he even begin to tell Mew this? The truth is, he doesn’t.

He just ignores the itch until Mew decides he wants to perform the lifesaving hug to Gulf because that’s just the generous kind of guy he is.

He waits until Mew wants him because he doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants.

Because he’s never had to.

Because he never needed to.

So he sits on the couch, trying his best to sleep or pretend to sleep or pretend that he’s not silently watching Mew. Silently willing Mew to come over to him, to take care of him instead of talking to everyone else in the room.

Gulf furrows his brows at the group, he feels a new feeling crawling under his skin, this one he can recognize easily- jealousy. Much like many other feelings in his life, he’ll ignore it. Ignore the way it creeps into his mind as he watches Mew laugh with one of the new actors. The new guy -whose name Gulf hasn’t quite figured out yet but he’s sure but the end of this workshop he’ll know it- nudges Mew as he talks before they laugh more. He’s pretty sure whatever it is they’re talking about isn’t that funny. Jealous isn’t something he’s fond off and he knows that he shouldn’t be jealous in the first place and if asked he’ll pretend he never was or is. Because that’s just who he is.

But now he knows he’s frowning and pouting and he knows he’s got the 'Type' eyebrow furrow. He’s not doing a very good job at pretending.

“You guys sulking again?” Mild leans against the other side of the armrest looking down at Gulf - who is just a little bit startled by his sudden appearance but tries to hide it by pulling his blanket closer to his face.

The soft smile on Mild’s lips felt like a mom's smile at their kid. Honestly, sometimes Mild could feel like a mom, teasing him and Mew but he always looked out for them. Well, Mostly Mew. But then Gulf knew the two had been friends for a while, even before Tharntype.

“No,” Gulf says smiling because he knows it’ll make Mild feel better even if it might be somewhat fake.

Mild fingers run through Gulf's hair, gently scratching at his nape before pulling away. “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. I’m just napping until it’s time to start.” Gulf shot another smile up at Mild and he seemed to take the hint because he chuckles and walks away. Gulf reaches up and rubs his hand through his hair a few times, over the place that Mild did.

He has nothing against Mild it’s just not the hand he wants on him, it feels not right but he’ll never tell Mild no. Mild is touchy, not like Mew but moderately so and he has a good soul so Gulf won’t stop him. But right now, it’s not right, it’s like a weird aftertaste. Uncanny. He brushes over his nape before curling back into the couch, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily.

He blinks them open as he looks across the room. Mew was still laughing with them, Mild seems to have joined it. He could easily go over there too, maybe even lean against Mew and he knows that will prompt Mew into action. If he played his cards right he could sit in Mews lap and Mew would play with his tummy. It was a plausible strategy and a tempting thought.

He closed his eyes again.

The itch seems to make it’s come back now that he’s lacking in distractions. Is this Mew withdrawal? The lack of Mew interaction for a few days because of scheduling and now when they can see each other Mew is busy without everyone else but him.

Stupid Mew.

Stupid habit.

Stupid itch.

He thinks about calling Mew over and demanding interaction but that thought is fleeting because he is neither that stern in his ways nor is he that courageous to ask for what he wants when it comes to touching.

He won’t admit that he needs the touch because that’s not the kind of person he is.

He won’t admit that he misses Mew may be more than Mew misses him sometimes.

He won’t admit that when they can’t talk he feels sad, that he purposely bought some of the cologne Mew uses so he can feel closer to Mew. That sometimes he sprays it on his blanket so he can pretend that Mew is there when they haven’t seen or talked to each other in a while.

He won’t admit that he likes having Mew close is more for him than Mew.  

Mew does it because he can, Mew touches because that’s his personality. While Gulf stays by Mew because he feels safe, warm, protected, and... loved. Gulf needs Mew close.

The itch is getting to him. How long has it been since he’s hugged Mew. Years? No, they saw each other a few days ago, but it was for a live event and they didn’t get much time outside of the event to interreact. There was hugging but everything was strictly monitored so the hugs were… lackluster. And days ago.

Maybe he didn’t give himself enough credit though, because he’s been more active in the touching department.

Gulf sees flashes of different events and interviews they’ve done recently. He remembers vaguely asking to be in Mews lap while they laid on the bed. And even later that same interview when he silently willed Mew to pull him into his lap by mental strength alone. The Mc seemed pleased by their interactions so no one thought anything was weird. Because he was discreet, like a ninja. There was also that one MC that had been flirting with Mew, and Mew wasn’t touching him, Gulf remembers nudging Mews arm to get him to place his hand on his knee.

Gulf feels a little proud of himself at the progress he’s made. That’s two active times that he wanted to touch and he requested it and was given it. Maybe the habit hasn’t just created the itch for more but also given Gulf power needed to request it.

Will he one day be as touchy as Mew?

He scoffs softly, Impossible. He shakes his head against the couch, very aware that no one else can hear his thoughts but he needs the physical reminder to himself that Mew is Mew and he is Gulf and he will never be touchy like Mew but that’s ok because Mew compensates for him. And he’d done well in those instances. Progress.

He felt the couch dip next to him, the were no words so he assumed it was one of the staff. They probably assumed he was asleep. He peaks over his shoulder, and frowns, it wasn’t one of the staff. It was Mew and Mew was on his phone.

Mew was on his phone, not hugging Gulf even after all the time they spent apart. Rude. Gulf felt his bottom lip puff out -as if he hadn’t been pouting for the better part of the last half an hour. How dare Mew to respect his ‘sleep’ and not bother him like any respectable human being would. Mew was supposed to curl up with him and hug him.

Gulf let out a tiny huff but Mew stayed focused on his phone. He let out another one, a bit louder. When still no response came he gathered his inner strength that was built on the soul thought of Mew touching him and pushed himself off the arm of the couch so he could lean against Mew, head settling on his shoulder. He sighs at the touch. Better.

Gulf pat himself on the back. That’s three times now he’s initiated the touch. What an improvement. He’s going to be a pro at this soon if he keeps up this progress. He might even be able to rid himself of that itch because he’ll be able to get hugs when he wants them one day.

“I thought you would be asleep.” Mew's voice was soft and rumbled through Gulf's ears.

“I am.”

Mew chuckles before wrapping his arms around Gulf and pulling him down into his lap, leaning against his chest. Gulf looked up at Mew, ignoring the sputter in his heart as Mew smiled down at him. It was smiles like that where he wanted nothing more than to drag Mew to the nearest bed and take a nap with him. He was pretty sure there might be more to his thoughts than that but for now, he’s settled on napping in Mews warmth.

"Since when do you sleep talk?"

"Since always." Gulf smiles up at him.

"Guess I'll have to hang around more when your asleep and find out." Mew flicks his earlobe softly as he scrunches his nose. Gulf finds it adorable. He often finds it annoying that Mew can be so sexy and hot but also just as equally cute and endearing. It's human nature but it's still annoying. And he wants more of the duality all the time.

"You should.  Maybe every night will give you enough data for your research."

Mew flicks his nose before chiding softly. "Am I writing my dissertation on your sleep patterns now?"

"Of course, what else could you possibly want to write about?" Gulf smiles shyly up at Mew scrunching up his nose much like Mew did earlier, he could feel the blush on his cheeks. "Plus it's a win-win situation. you get to research and sleep all in one."

"And I get to be with you."

"Yeah," Gulf breathes out locking eyes with Mew, "With me."

Mew’s smile was soft and endearing and just the right amount of lip curvature to make his lips still be pouty. It was the kind of smile you want to see when you wake up, the sun shining in, next to someone you love as you lean in for a kiss. The kind of kiss that makes you want to smile the same way.

It’s gross and all too much and Gulf finds himself wanting to lean up into Mew.

He wants that kiss. He wants that kiss so badly in this moment. The morning kiss with that smile. He gulps. Mew’s eyes darken, something sparkles inside them as Gulf feels fingers tug softly at his ear lobe.

It would take nothing for him to fix the distance between them. He thinks for a moment that he might actually do it. Might actually lean up to capture those awaiting lips that he knows are sweet like cotton candy. Those same lips he’s kissed many times for a camera and a few times off-camera for practice but never just because they could. Never because they wanted to without any other reason. Never like this.

Gulf can feel his body humming in anticipation. The beacon in his head blaring at him, surrounding him with the sirens call, telling him to succumb to his human wants. To be strong and ask for things he wants.

He almost does too but the moment is shattered by Mame and the director calling for the cast to gather to start the workshop.

Mew pats his shoulder helping Gulf sit up so they could join the rest of the group on the other side of the room. Mew stays close, a hand on his back or around him but doesn’t look at him. Eyes swiftly looking anywhere but Gulf eyes for most of the workshop. Eyes only meet when they need to.

But Gulf doesn’t comment on it. He just glances at Mew every chance he gets and wonders if he’ll be able to sum up the courage to get that moment back during a time when they might actually be able to fulfill it.

[dgcatanisiri]

I feel like I keep saying this, but I suppose it bears repeating. Media is a reflection of the times and society that it is made in. This is baked into everything that is media and pop culture, a vision of storytelling that is influenced by the way that the society and culture that makes it.

We are in a really bad place, societally speaking. Like, the 1960s may have been the Cold War, the fear of nuclear war between the US and Russia, but right now, we have not only that but also people with those launch codes who are itching for an excuse to use them, instead of being concerned about what will happen when they’re used.

In the 1960s Star Trek, the Original Series, was a reflection of “give peace a chance,” the concept that we could go forward in peace and be stronger for it. In the 1980s, Star Trek The Next Generation was reflecting the ideas of prosperity, that humanity was in a golden age, having resolved its major issues. Deep Space Nine came along to point out that the “major issues” that were resolved had really only been resolved for the upper class, and once you left the heart of that prosperous society, moved out to the margins, you saw the cracks in that facade. Voyager represented and continued the idea of TNG, of the 1990s as living in “the end of history,” a rather naive view in retrospect, but the concept was that humanity had reached some high point where it had reached its “ultimate form.” The 2000s sent that idea crashing down hard, and we saw Enterprise tackle the kick in the complacency that had been 9/11.

And so we’re in the 2020s now, with Star Trek Discovery and Star Trek Picard, entering the scene with very flawed depictions of Starfleet and the Federation. I understand looking for hope in troubled times. What I’m seeing the message from these shows, however, is one of hope being found not in institutions, but individuals. That the systems fail and struggle and find themselves not measuring up to the hopes and dreams of the people within them, and so it falls upon the individuals, the individuals who question them, to embody and champion these things.

Because we live in a time of failing and struggling institutions, it’s not unreasonable to see this reflected in media. And it’s the kind of thing that Star Trek has always used its platform to call out. Yes, it’s painful that this is coming at the expense of the actual institutions of Starfleet, of the Federation. But that makes this message all the more impactful - even the utopia is susceptible to these kinds of failures. That to prevent this from happening, it requires vigilance to prevent from falling prey to this sort of thing, that to believe it can never happen to you, that you have build a society immune to this, is to already allow that kind of failure the first step it needs to walk through the door. 

I get that it’s a bitter pill to swallow. But it also seems like the message that needs to be brought up in these times, a lesson we need to keep in mind - not just that our “perfect” systems can fail, but also that we need to be aware of when they have failed and what must be done about them. 

The idea I’m seeing is that the right thing is hard, and even those we trust to lead us will sometimes take the easier road - and that’s not even a condemnation, as we see with Admiral Clancy, seeing her point out to Picard that it came down to preserving the Federation or rescuing the Romulans, and this is the lesson of “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” that the twenty billion of Romulus pales in the face of the forty billion plus of the Federation in the numbers game, didn’t we have a whole movie about that lesson? - That we, as individuals and as a society, must watch and be aware of when this easier road is being taken, and ask ourselves are we really willing to let ourselves be what this will make us. 

Michael Burnham’s journey in the first season of Star Trek Discovery is about this idea. When she learns about Starfleet Command approving a planet-killer of a bomb on Qo’nos to end the war, she refuses. “A year ago, I stood alone. I believed that our survival was more important than our principles. I was wrong. Do we need a mutiny today to prove who we are?“ This is still a core theme of Star Trek right now, because this is the question we need to be asking ourselves. Is it enough to merely survive, or are we going to be able to look at ourselves and respect what “surviving” has made us into? What are we protecting if we give up those morals and ideals along the way?

That was a question that drove the first season of Discovery, and, potentially, will continue to play a part in Discovery in the far future of the Alpha Quadrant, at a time when Starfleet is “a ghost.” That’s the question that Picard is clearly asking by way of having him sit down and say that he feels Starfleet abandoned its duties and its honor by letting Romulans die. That’s the question that we need to ask ourselves, as we see hate and fear being spouted by our leaders, as we see those morals and ideals being torn at as the world almost literally burns.

Our world is troubled. It’s entirely in keeping with the spirit of Star Trek to see that trouble reflected in the world it portrays. 

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Son Of Scheherazade, 26

Notes: As always, fantastic thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted... who reeeally helped me out, in more ways than they know.

This was an interesting chapter as some of it I've had in mind for years, and other parts I made up the week of actually writing it. Hopefully all this nonsense works out. We're almost done, guys! I hope you enjoyed the journey.

Summary: Our heroes finally reach the forgotten kingdom, and the final battle is set. But some memories are best left buried, and not all happily ever afters are guaranteed.

Goofy was once again disappointed that he didn't get to see a magic show – leaving Mickey to once again question why a man with a flying ship had any desire to see such a thing – but it was swept under the rug upon the announcement that the final piece of the map had been obtained. As much as everyone wanted to put it together and begin the last step in their journey, the captain put a veto on it.

“We gotta prepare ourselves,” he explained over supper. “Physically and mentally! Tonight, everyone gets one last training session in! We get a full night's rest, and eat a huge breakfast in the morning! Then, and only then, do we put the map together and bring the fight to the Phantom Prince.”

“He wants us there, so he's probably got a few traps set,” Horace added, but put his empty plate down in eager anticipation. “But after all the nonsense we've been through, I bet we can get through it with our eyes closed!”

Clarabelle latched onto his arm, swooning. “Aw, Horace, you're so adorable when you're optimistic!”

“I think I'm going into a depression cycle where I'm so sure we're all gunna die that I've got no choice but to say otherwise.”

Clarabelle smacked her husband upside the head, while Panchito held up his pistols. “I'll make sure every chamber is loaded and bring lots of back-up ammo! And I'll come up with a new song!”

Jose twirled his umbrella over his head. “This time, we bring everything we've got, and leave no one behind! It'll be a battle that even Lady Scheherazade couldn't imagine!”

Daisy laughed at that idea. “I don't know if she'd take that as a compliment, but I'll keep my Eye on her, every which way.”

“And don't bother checking the forecast, I've got it under control!” Donald snapped his fingers, firing off a small shot of lightning. “I'll make that Phantom Prince do a phantom wince!”

“... Really.”

“Look, everyone's coming up with cool stuff, this is hard.”

Minnie saluted, ready to offer her own aid. “I'll come up with wishes we can use to our advantage, and that way we won't be caught off guard. I won't have my freedom until the Sultan and Sultana are free, and the Phantom Prince is defeated once and for all.”

“Then we all know what we have to do,” Mickey finished, unable to stop smiling. “So let's hurry up and get to it!” The entire day with Mortimer suddenly seemed far away, in the wake of so much hope and promise. Yet, in a truly weird way, he was a little grateful for the smug rat's reappearance. As his friends began to devour their dinner, discussing possible battle strategies for the upcoming finale, Mickey understood how much he had learned from each and every one of them. In turn, he saw that not everyone was exactly the same as when he had first met them.

Donald, once shy and unsure about every step he made, was now embracing every emotion he had, laughing and arguing with vigor. Daisy, who had pushed everyone away to save herself, had come to reluctantly embrace her heart, sharing the remains of her meal with those around her. Minnie, she of lost hope and disdain for the world, could share her ideas and walk to her own chosen future with her head held high, even now offering ways Jose and Panchito could use their combined skills to form a shield around whoever needed it most.

He loved each and every one of them dearly, and he would miss them terribly when the time came to return to his kingdom. Would his own people recognize him when he came back? If this journey had established anything, it was that Mickey would not allow himself to be merely the Son of Scheherazade anymore. He had learned, he had gained, he had lost, and now it was time to find who he really was. He still had his own flaws to wrestle with – his crippling self-loathing and his anger the most important ones – but he wasn't alone. He could face these demons and defeat them. In fact, right now his biggest worry was how he could possibly get any sleep that night!

Once the plates were cleared, they wasted no time in drawing their weapons and displaying their powers. Goofy and Mickey met blade to blade, a far cry from when Mickey was first attacked by the heartless monsters and could only guess where to stick his steel. Horace and Clarabelle were their own best practice partners, only stopping to give lessons to Daisy and Minnie. Panchito shot at targets that Jose threw, and Donald went through the range of his feelings to see if he could combine any for potential power-ups, such as a happy fear that lead to a flurry of blinding snowflakes. As the sun began to fall, companions would switch, and the sessions would start up again. But Mickey quietly left early.

Pluto laid loyally at the ship's mast, knowing his master was up at the crow's nest. There Mickey stood, watching the reds, yellows and oranges melt into the dunes to give way to darkness. He remembered the first time seeing this when he had climbed onto Goofy's ship, in awe that the world could be so different. He had known so little then, been so naive, could only see the world in black and white. But like this sunset, the world and people could be many colors, and could always change. He thought of his mother and father, and hoped they would be proud of the progress he'd made. He sat down, recalling that he had insisted to his mother over and over that he was a man now and should be treated as such. In retrospect, it'd been quite silly.

Mickey heard creaking wood, and glanced over to see Minnie climbing up into the nest. “I hope I'm not bothering you.”

“Naw, it's fine.” He smiled at her, thinking that she couldn't be a bother if she tried. He pat the empty space next to him and she took the invitation. “I know I should be workin' with everyone else, but... I dunno, I guess part of me thinks I'll never be more ready than I am now.” He then chuckled quietly. “Weird part is, I should be scared, and nervous, and anxious, but...” He opened his empty hands. He was at peace, come what may.

“I think that's called hope,” Minnie replied, hands on her lap. “And I feel the same way. I didn't come here to lecture you to rejoin everyone. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” After a brief moment of hesitation, she leaned to his side, and rested her head on his shoulder.

A long time ago, Mickey's heart would've jumped into his throat at the mere idea of her skin touching his. Now he could silently put his arm around her, eyes staying on the sunset and enjoying the serene silence. Tomorrow, there was no going back. Whatever decisions either of them made, they'd have to live with it. Mickey had to go back to his home, and that was that. He exhaled deeply out of his nostrils, dispelling the last of his fears. “Minnie?”

“Hm?” Her eyes had closed, and now they opened.

“When I grant you your freedom tomorrow... you can go anywhere you like. The world's ready for you. And, if you want... my palace is ready for you too.” He'd finally said it, he'd finally gotten it out, and it was as if he could breathe naturally again. He didn't dare look at her face to spoil the moment, and in one way, felt better about having said it regardless of whatever answer she was ready to give.

Minnie, for her part, was now staring right at him, eyes wide. She had hoped to hear such a proposition, but much like her freedom, had felt she might not gain it. As always, Mickey made the impossible possible. He probably didn't even realize he was blushing. She swallowed, making her own decision. She did want to live with him, did want to spend the rest of her life with him – but it wouldn't be right unless he knew the extent of her feelings. No more games, no more denial, no more nerves getting in the way of everything. She licked her lips, and then hugged his arm, working up the last of her strength. “Mickey, I... there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time.” She couldn't face him, not yet, not until it was all out and done with. “I'm... I'm in.... I'm in-”

“Minnie?” Mickey suddenly interrupted her, still without turning his head in her direction.

She stopped, surprised. “What?”

“I have a feeling that what you want to tell me is pretty important.” In fact, he had a 99% chance guess of what it was, and was fighting his own desperate urge to return it. “And I want to hear it. I really do. I've been wanting to hear it since I first laid eyes on you...”

“...But?” Of course there was a “but”, and it had better be a good one.

“But it won't feel right, until you're not my slave anymore.” Mickey sat up straighter, rolling his shoulders, and taking her hands into his own. “I know by now you're your own independent person, and that whatever you feel is what you have, and not because of the lamp. Even so... I just... I have to hear it once the shackles come off, and you're... just you.” Now he finally looked at her, eyes full of guilt, with the more selfish parts of his brain kicking him over and over again. Despite that, it felt like the right thing to do, and Mickey was stubborn when it came to his own sense of morality.

Thankfully, it was one of the things Minnie admired about him, and was a part of those things she'd been about to confess to. Naturally she was disappointed that she couldn't say what her heart begged her to, but she bore no grudge. “I understand,” she said softly, her fingers intertwining with his own. It was cute to see relief flooding his face. “I've waited this long... I can wait a little longer.” She let out a melodious giggle, affectionately nuzzling her nose to his. “In fact, once I'm free, I may never stop saying it.”

Mickey had grown a lot since he first met Minnie, but an action like that was still enough to send him reeling. “Uhhh... make sure I don't take that back...” Because usually what happened in these sort of situations, as far as he understood them, was that once those certain words were said, certain actions tended to follow. Like kisses. On the lips. Why did he have to be such a good guy when he was seconds away from his first real kiss?! Being a good guy really sucked sometimes! “No, no, I meant it, don't wanna hear it until the battle is over and the day is won.” And his hormones would just have to shut up and deal with it.

Minnie wasn't exactly helping matters by now choosing to crawl and sit in his lap, but he eventually managed to get his heart to stop beating like a rambunctious drummer. Once his body settled, he wrapped his arms around her, and she nestled up comfortably. Tomorrow was a big day, and it couldn't come any sooner. “Can I say I'm really glad I met you?” Minnie asked, her voice a delicate whisper, her fingers curled up against his chest.

Mickey laughed a little. “Yeah, sure. I think that counts.” He stroked her arm, content to watch her, content to be with her, content to have this moment of time that he knew wouldn't last forever. “And, for the record... same here.” She had changed him, and he'd changed her, and they couldn't have been more grateful. That feeling of hope grew stronger and stronger as they established that new goal together. Tomorrow, they'd be master and servant no longer. A new bond would form, pure and everlasting, and theirs would be a new life they could spend together.

When the stars began to glitter in the night sky, they made no wishes, as they were now so full of belief for their dreams that they saw no need to. No one and nothing could take this hope away.

Not even Daisy, who Donald had to yank away three times over -“C'MON IT'LL BE FUNNY!”

~*~

Somehow, they all managed to sleep a dreamless sleep, and once they were among the waking world, every single member of the crew was filled with expectation. They all wore great big smiles, and Goofy had to constantly remind everyone that eating too fast would make them all sick, even though he'd finished his eggs in three seconds. How, was best not questioned.

The meal was eaten, and everyone gathered outside, steeling themselves. Donald hefted the rolled-up magic carpet over his shoulder, and Mickey brought out all the pieces of the map. He laid them out on the steering wheel separately, to take one last look at them. No one dared to say a word as Mickey began to place one on top of the other, as if they were pages of a book instead of a flat map. Once the fourth piece was put on top, the strange scribbles began to take on a white glow, illuminating what once was lost, the pages slowly turning themselves. Now they changed and twisted, creating letters Mickey could read, and he did so out loud.

“A kingdom lost, a time forgotten,

The rightful rule misbegotten,

Take me there, take me hence,

Here we stand – our last defense!”

Before the spell was cast, Mickey was puzzled – the words seemed to be insulting the Phantom Prince, so he couldn't have created this spell. So who did? But there was no time for curious inquiries – smog began to swirl out of the pages, fast and rapid, enveloping the entire ship in the blink of an eye. Friends grasped each other's hands and the sails billowed, a harsh wind picking up. They then heard a great roar, not like that of a lion or a monster, but the sound of the very earth itself ripped in two. No one wanted to break the circle and so they stayed, as the flying ship...

… dropped.

“I HAVE SO MANY REGRETS IN MY LIFE!” Horace screamed, and a swift kick from his wife kept him from going into a full blown panic attack.

“This is a new one,” Goofy had to shout over the howling winds, eyebrows raised as he tried to squint through the smog. “Usually when we put a map on the wheel, it just starts leading itself to the destination. This must be some spell.”

“Is anyone else noticing a huge change in scenery?” Donald asked, willing up a small wind of his own to try and break through the darkness. Now everyone could see what he meant, but only briefly, as the sun was blocked out – by the earth itself! The ground had split up, and now they were going underneath it, walls of rock and dirt going above them.

Mickey's clever brain put an answer to everyone's question. “Hang on, no wonder no one could ever find the lost kingdom! It's... underground?!” Even as he said it and could see it to be true, he was in disbelief. He had so many questions and doubted he'd ever get all the answers. But with a shake of his head, his resolve strengthened. Ultimately, it didn't matter where the kingdom was or how it came to be this way – it was only the place his parents were kept, and once they were rescued, it could crumble to ashes for all he cared.

The ship went down deeper, deeper, deeper still, until it became difficult to see, the sun unable to touch them anymore. Just as they were about to be plunged into inky darkness, glimpses of light began to glimmer from the walls of earth around them. The smog began to clear, and soon the crew could see they were surrounded by glowing crystals of all kinds, a treasure that had been abandoned centuries ago. The ship itself began to slow to a stop, and the walls of earth above began to close back up. The “map” on the ship's wheel stopped glowing, the pages falling to the deck silently. One by one, the group began to let go, with Mickey going first to pick up the fallen pieces. For all he knew, the way in was the same way out, so he tucked them into his waistband for safe-keeping.

“Take a look at that!” Goofy declared, the first one to look over the side of the ship at the world below. “It's the forgotten kingdom... I think?”

Everyone joined his side, and his confusion was understandable. Mickey's internal remark about the kingdom crumbling to ashes was more than metaphorical. Maybe once upon a time there had been tall impressive buildings and busy streets interwoven through homes, but there was little here now than debris and fallen relics. There were no people, no animals, not even a hint of a dead plant to be found. Given enough time, a structure could decay and collapse, but this seemed a far worse version than time's steady hand – it was as if whatever had been there was ripped apart, and now continued to die. Even now, as Mickey could see, one part of a dwelling lost a piece of roof, but before it could hit the ground, it dissolved into nothing. The shadowy remains reminded him of the brief glimpse he'd gotten of the Phantom Prince – and perhaps whatever had happened to him also happened to his kingdom.

“Kind of hoped our grand battle wouldn't be in such a dump,” Daisy huffed, helping Panchito and Jose lower the anchor into place. “Who'd want to rule over this graveyard?”

“The guy's evil, no one said he was sane,” Donald reminded her as he untied the magic carpet. “You ready, Mickey?”

“Ready as I'll ever be,” Mickey replied, and he was the first one to descend down the rope, his heart pounding. This time, no one would be left behind to guard the ship – mostly because, as far as they could see, there was no one to guard it from. So when the entire crew touched the cold stone ground, they were joined by Pluto, and the hovering carpet. “Minnie, can we get the first one done?”

“Now's a good a time as any, Mickey.”

“Good. Then I wish my sword won't ever break, and my carpet won't ever be torn.” The day before, Minnie had kept her word and created several ideas about wishes to make for the final battle. But the timing would have to be perfect – the last thing Mickey and Minnie needed was to be physically worn out in the heat of battle. The lamp puffed pink smoke, and both the sword inside the scabbard and the carpet floating above their heads glowed the same color for a brief second. Both mice took a breath, allowing their strength to be drained. It wasn't enough to cause a disadvantage in battle, but they would need to wait before doing it again.

“How are we going to find the Sultan and Sultana in all this mess?” Panchito asked, trying to squint.

“Maybe in that gigantic golden palace?” Jose pointed out in all sincerity, as everyone had been so focused on facing forward no one bothered turning, say, left.

The palace wasn't exactly in front of them, but now that everyone was facing the same way, it did feel a little embarrassing they hadn't seen it earlier. It was the only building that was left perfectly intact without nary a scratch, shining in bright colors as if the sands of time had never fallen.

“How come that looks so snazzy and everything else... doesn't?” Clarabelle scratched her head.

“If I had to take a guess,” Mickey said as he began to walk, the others following suit, “a guy as arrogant as this probably used his magic to keep the most important place to him nice and shiny. He's full of himself... and that's how we'll take him down.” Anyone with an ego this big wouldn't expect defeat, so he'd leave plenty of openings. It didn't need any further explanation than that, but Mickey was tempted to say something anyway, as the dead kingdom was incredibly silent. There was no wind to be heard, or even the sound of vermin skittering through the walls. There wasn't even any smell of decay or death, as if whoever had lived here died so long ago there wasn't a trace of remains – or that whatever happened to this place also “happened” to the living. Neither of these were pleasant thoughts, and Mickey tried not to think of them, which was difficult. In essence, they were walking upon the world's largest graveyard.

As they all began to approach the mighty palace, the ground began to rumble, and off in the remains there were the familiar sounds of chomping fangs and powerful talons hitting the ground. “Sounds like he made us a welcome party! Whatever happens, keep moving forward!”

Just as Mickey made his bold declaration, heartless monsters pounced into view, ready to start their battle all over again. This time, there was no fear or surprise from any of the crew, who knew what to do and where to strike. As long as they struck the heart-marks, their foes would know defeat, and with guns out, swords drawn, and fists and feet flailing, the heroes set out to war. The creatures took on new forms, mismatched beasts from the depths of the underworld in warped shapes and designs, all with the intent to destroy. As the fight began, everyone remembered Mickey's words – they had to get to the palace, and nothing would stand in their way!

With his blade drawn, Mickey sliced off the wing of a spellican, with his trusty hound tackling down a mushroom abomination, allowing him to keep dashing toward the front steps of the palace. As he ran, he saw movement – and what he saw startled him in more ways than one.

There on the first step stood the Phantom Prince, arrogantly watching the battle with a confident sneer as he towered over his two victims. One was the proud Sultan Al, his body ragged and worn out, his toned shape now thin and frail, his mighty beard stained with flecks of dirt and blood. As horrified as Mickey was to see his almighty father reduced to such a state, it was the other prisoner that threw him off. What in the world was Pete doing here?! He and Al were on their knees, wrists bound by chains, their heads beginning to lift as they heard the ongoing battle.

“Why is the kingdom's advisor here?!” Mickey shouted, trying to think of a logical explanation. “He's supposed to be back home and taking care of things while I'm gone!”

“Friend of yours?” Donald asked, trying to hold down a knightly aberration.

“Friend is a stretch...” Mickey shook his head, now was not the time for semantics! “Okay, now he's part of the rescue mission!” And where was his mother? If he kept on asking questions, he'd never get anywhere, he needed to move! “Minnie, you got it in you for another wish?”

“Yes, but just one!” A chameleon with spikes all along its back was trying to trap Minnie with its tongue, but she'd grabbed it at the right time and was now tying him up with his own appendage. “Make it quick!”

“I wish for the chains on my father and Pete to break!” As soon as the words left his mouth, he could see pink smoke around the two men. Pete stayed perfectly still, but Al held up his freed wrists in wonder – before jumping to his feet and trying to punch the Phantom Prince's lights out. “Way to go, Pa! That's my old man!” It was a failed effort, since the Phantom Prince dodged the blow and Al was too weak to catch himself, taking a tumble down the steps. “Pa!”

Mickey ran as fast as he could, the wish creating a flash of pain in his chest, Pluto barking at his heels. Why wasn't Pete moving, and why was the Phantom Prince so calm about everything? Maybe Pete's legs were chained too? He didn't have time to check with Minnie if she was up for another wish - “Pluto, get my father to the magic carpet, and keep him safe!” he then stuck two fingers in his mouth, calling the carpet itself for the command.

Pluto was quick to obey, running ahead of Mickey to bite down on an approaching cat-like creature. Once it was sufficiently scared off, he pushed Al's chest with his head, trying to get him to sit up. Al got up dizzily, and hugged the dog in gratitude. “When we get home, you are getting an entire mountain of bones to bury!” Pluto licked his cheek, before taking a mouthful of his sleeve to help him towards the oncoming carpet.

As much as Mickey wanted to embrace his father, sentimentality might get him killed. If Pete was still restrained, he needed to be freed and fast. “Hang on, Pete, I'm coming!” Passing by his father and pet, he raced up the stairs, sword out, ready to cut down whatever was still holding Pete back. “Don't worry,  I'll get you out of here!” But as Mickey made it to Pete's side, the chains were broken, so why -

“Thanks, your highness, I'm really grateful... that you're still such a sucker!” Mickey hadn't prepared for Pete to be here in the first place – so he also wasn't prepared for a heavy fist to slug him right in the face, or the follow-up strike to his stomach. Mickey gagged, feeling his breakfast making a return, unable to hear his father scream his name. “But it's time to cut you down to size!” Though Mickey had trained diligently and had increased his strength, he was still much, much smaller compared to Pete, who easily lifted him by his wrist and snatched his sword.

“MICKEY!” Minnie shrieked, and at once everyone was aware of the threat to their favorite friend. In a frantic frenzy, they scrambled past their foes, trying to save Mickey from what seemed to be a bloody death.

Mickey was stunned, his eyes swimming in pain. “P-Pete?! You're really going to kill me?!”

“Aw, quit bein' a drama prince. I ain't after you... you're just delivering the real prize!�� With one swift slice of the sword, he cut off Mickey's belt – and the lamp attached to it clattered to the floor.

Mickey had truly thought he prepared for everything, every scenario and any plot twist. But here and now, he was facing his greatest nightmare. Though he tried to wrestle himself free from Pete, each pull told him the fight was over. There was nothing he could do – he'd been played from the start. He was going to lose her. He was going to lose everyone.

Now did the Phantom Prince move, instantly picking it up in his smoldering hands, holding it up to the heavens. “At last, my treasure has returned to me!”

“NO!” Mickey kicked about in Pete's grasp, repeating the same word over and over as terror flooded his body. “NO NO NO NOOOOOO!”

It was too late – all the Phantom Prince had to do was rub it once, twice, three times – and the world turned pink.

The lamp shook and shivered, colorful pink smoke spewing out of every orifice, sparkles and fireworks exiting from the tip, all just as the fateful day Mickey had accidentally made the lamp his own. The golden cuffs on Mickey's wrists turned into ashes, swirling in the air until they reformed on the Phantom Prince's wrists, no longer sharing Mickey's name. With them gone, Pete tossed Mickey down the stairs, sending him crashing into his father. Once more did the ethereal woman rise from the smoke, and once more did she make the creed of the genies known.

“THOU SHALL OWN THY GENIE UNTIL THE LAMP IS TOUCHED BY ANOTHER.

THOU SHALL NOT MAKE THE SAME WISH MORE THAN ONCE.

THOU SHALL NOT MAKE THY GENIE SHED TEARS.”

As the woman vanished, the Phantom Prince waved a hand, and all the heartless monsters froze in place. “I don't think I'll need any of these anymore. It's a shame, I felt really creative with this last batch.”

The crew was momentarily stupefied by this horrid change of events, with Minnie staring at the new name on her wrist in despair. Goofy broke the spell over them first, his face a rare shade of pure anger. “Get your filthy hands off that lamp, you no good thief!” His sword was drawn, his blood hot -

“I wish that you, Captain, cannot harm me.”

And then he fell face forward, not out of his typical clumsiness, but with all of his energy completely drained. He struggled to get to his knees, to stop the Phantom – yet with that thought, his sword flopped out of his hands, as if his own fingers refused to obey. “You... you...!” Mickey flinched, feeling the wish rip through him, and his father held him, not knowing what else to do.

Minnie had her hands out, unwillingly using her magic on her friend, and trembled, her fingers twitching with power. Daisy grabbed her by the wrist, trying to turn her around. “Minnie, stop!”

“I – I can't!” Minnie tried to pull her hands back, tried to exert control over things she couldn't stop. “As long as he holds the lamp, I can't do anything else!”

“Then let's get it back!” Donald held up his hand, ready to summon up his most powerful storm yet-

“I wish that Donald cannot use his powers against me.”

And he fell to one knee, feeling the crackle of lightning burning inside his own skin, choking in untold agony. Mickey's chest seared with torment - Daisy screamed - “I wish that Daisy cannot use her Eye to see what I don't desire her to see.” - and held her forehead, as it throbbed in pain, Mickey clawing at his neck - “I wish that Horace and Clarabelle can't use their skills to hurt me, I wish that Panchito cannot aim his pistols at me, I wish that Jose can't burn a single hair on my head, I wish that Pluto cannot bite me, I wish that Mickey cannot draw his blade on me.”

With each awful wish made, another member of the crew collapsed, try as they might to fight it otherwise. But even the sheer idea of trying to go against the wishes made their bodies twist and turn, making their struggles all the worse. Minnie covered her mouth with her hands, her legs trembling at what she had been forced to do – and with every wish, her own strength drained and – oh, Mickey! She  sprinted toward her former Master, who lay in his father's arms, writhing in physical suffering.

“Mickey!” Al tried to hold his son upright, panic in every letter. “Mickey, what's happening to you?!” But Mickey was so devastated by every wish made that even speech was difficult.

“You don't think I spent all this time without a moment of preparation, do you?” The Phantom Prince chuckled, amused by the afflictions he had cast on everyone. “Now I have everything I need to restore my kingdom's glory! With Scheherazade's All-Seeing-Eye, and now, my genie returned to me, nothing can stand in my way!”

Minnie clasped Mickey's hand, ready to beg forgiveness, but she had caught a word that was so utterly confusing and yet so profoundly clear that she couldn't think. “Re... returned...?” No. It wasn't possible. She knew all her masters, and he wasn't in any of her memories – which – which – which meant - “You... you're my first Master?”

“First Master?” The Phantom Prince laughed at the question, as accurate as it was. “Who do you think created you? I did erase your memories... but it seems you've finally caught on. You were my greatest masterpiece! When my father asked my sister and I to develop a way to help our people, I was the genius who came up with a perfect servant! One who could grant your every desire! You were supposed to be my way to the throne!”

Minnie staggered – she still couldn't remember any of this, and she wanted to deny it, wanted no part of his wicked schemes, but that feeling came – the one that had kept telling her to remember would be cruel, that she must never think of it, must never go back to that time. Now that feeling told her he was right. All this time – she'd been part of the enemy, created from the same man who had hurt Mickey so much – Mickey's hand suddenly found her wrist.

Sweat was pouring down his face, yet he still stood, eyes hellfire and voice dark. “Minnie... is not... your servant,” he snarled, breathing deeply, venom beating with every throb of his heart. “She is not part of you! She is her own person! And I won't let you hurt her!”

“A person?” The Phantom Prince cupped his chin in thought, not that this bothered him too deeply. “I suppose she was, once. But then I made her into something useful.”

Minnie held herself. She didn't want to hear this.

“You remember that idiotic Imp? They were close to replicating my design, but they missed a vital ingredient – a mortal soul.”

No no no she didn't want to know didn't want to hear didn't want to remember stop stop stop -

“And what better soul to serve my needs than my own daughter?”

And then it...all...came...back.

DADDY PLEASE STOP IT HURTS

SILENCE YOU WILL OBEY ME

BROTHER HOW COULD YOU

YOU KILLED MY PRECIOUS GRANDDAUGHTER

I WILL BE SULTAN

I WILL BE REMEMBERED

MY FIRST WISH IS TO TAKE THE LIVES OF MY UNGRATEFUL FAMILY!

Bits and pieces swirled and slammed into her brain, overloading her mind, a pain so great that it could not be handled by any natural mortal soul. Her eyes rolled back, all of it was too much, too much, TOO MUCH – Al caught her, trying to keep her steady and awake. “Child! Child, snap out of it, you mustn't go back!” Any second now Minnie was ready to faint, to will her brain to forget it all again, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Yet she did not cry, as if something said that if she did, that truly would be the end of things. Just as it did back then – back – there was still a piece missing, a vital piece -

All of this happened within seconds – when Mickey heard the word “daughter”, all rational sense inside of him was destroyed. Though his bones and muscles ached, all of it went numb, and were replaced by sheer, hard, deep hatred. There was nothing in him but hate, hate, hate, and he was blind to all else. “You... MONSTER!” He charged up the stairs, anger frothing from his mouth, not caring that he didn't have a sword, he'd tear the Phantom apart with his bare hands!

Except the wishes wouldn't allow it. “I wish you can't lay a finger on me, Son of Scheherazade.” Mickey's strength gave out, far too exhausted from all the desires granted. As soon as he came within swinging distance, his knees gave out, and his hands were immobile. He fought as hard as he could, trying to get some muscle to work, eyes swimming in tears for how gravely Minnie had been hurt, but it did no good. The Phantom Prince lifted his foot, and kicked him in the chest, sending him back down. “A valiant effort, but all for naught. The time has come to end our game. But you all now have the highest honor of witnessing my reign come back to life! It's a fitting finale for your journey.” With a snap of his fingers, the heartless monsters dissolved, as their purpose was no more. “I wish for the Sultan and Sinbad's crew to be trapped within the dungeons!”

Pete had been content to watch the entire heroic mission fall, but hearing that the Phantom had used his own daughter as guinea pig had been enough to make his jaw drop and question a few things. If the Phantom cared so little about his own flesh and blood, then how much could Pete get away with? He only found his voice when the last wish was made. “Dungeon?” Pete balked, even as the ground began to shake. “What are you doing?! You should kill them!”

Pete's cry went ignored, as thick, gnarly vines shot up from the ground, twisting around the legs of the crew, even managing to capture the carpet. One by one, they each began to be pulled down into the earth, calling out for each other, trying to hold each other, but before they sunk in, they all echoed the same.

“MICKEY! MINNIE!”

Mickey was the very last, and only then did Minnie “wake up” from her past, seeing her beloved pulled down into the deep. She screamed and tried to grab his hands, knowing that no matter how much she pulled, she couldn't save him. He held on tightly, but his fingers began to slip.

“I'll come back for you!” Mickey shouted as he felt the earth swallowing up his chest. “Don't give up! I'll free you, I promise! I PROMISE!” They held on as long as bones would allow, and with one, last, pull – he was gone.

And she was alone. Oh, Pete was there, his doubts and worries now stronger than ever before, the Phantom was there, laughing madly in his triumph, but she was alone, alone, alone.

“My reign begins anew! Cast out all hope and blot out the sun, FOR MY KINGDOM SHALL LIVE FOREVER!”

[so-gay]

Sometimes I worry I am too comfortable being single. Up until my ex and I broke up, I had always craved being loved. I craved being in a relationship that would last forever. I wanted that kind of love where nothing could tear us apart, but never in a million years would I have thought that I would be the one to detach from the person I considered the love of my life.

Two years ago I was in Disney with her and everything was fine. In retrospect, we weren’t perfect but we were everything I was convinced I needed. Almost 4 months after our trip, reality hit and the next thing I knew I was having the most painful conversation I’ve ever had with someone. To tell her I was no longer happy.. to see her cry, to feel her pain on top of my own broke me. I cared about her more than anyone else in the world, and I was faced with having to hurt the one person who promised to never hurt me. For 2 whole years she looked at me and saw no flaws, no imperfections. She wholeheartedly accepted every part of me and my past. I was her everything and she was about to have it all taken away by the hands that gave her what she considered the world. She didn’t change - she was always the same person I fell in love with. To this day, nearly 2 years later I still can’t figure out what changed for me to want to leave her. It took me months before and after breaking up to come to terms with the fact that my heart stopped wanting her the way it once did, months to be at peace with her being so involved with someone new only a few weeks after we ended. The pain seemed to never go away, until one day I realized the ache in my chest wasn’t weighing me down day in and day out anymore. During the time we broke up, I was hoping the only thing I needed was space from her to clear my head and we’d bounce back like nothing happened, but the truth is I knew I didn’t know how to fix us - I’m not sure I even wanted to. I wanted to be single and see if she was who I thought I could spend the next 50+ years with, but deep down I knew there was no hope for our relationship. I desperately wanted there to be, but I was so emotionally checked out it would have been impossible.

Ever since my heart sabotaged itself, I haven’t been able to believe love is for me, and for whatever reason I’m okay with that. We grow up thinking we have to have a boyfriend, have to have a girlfriend, have to get married and have kids before a specific age we set for oursslves. How can we not? We watch hundreds of romance movies, read countless books where two people find their soulmates, open Instagram to pictures of our friends getting engaged, hear parents tell their children they’ll find “the one” someday, see thousands of ads portraying this idea of love that is suppose to be the same for everyone. We get to the point where we tell ourselves over and over that we can’t wait until we have THAT kind of love. And for some it works out, they get that “fairytale ending.” They find exactly what they have been looking for. But for those who don’t, they’re left feeling ashamed and embarrassed because they have no one to call theirs. Relatives ask why you’re single at every holiday gathering, friends ask why you haven’t gone on a date in months, coworkers ask if you’re in a relationship. It’s as if being single is the last thing we should want. No one may convey that to you in words, but when we look around the societal message is clear. You can have the most supportive friends and family who reassure you that it’s okay to take your time and be alone, but at the end of the day we wonder if there is something wrong with us that has caused us to be single. We hear others finding their “other half,” as if us being us isn’t enough to constitute a whole being. It’s takes an incredible amount of time, energy, and self reflection to be genuinely content with being single. It feels as though every other person in the world is happily taken and then there’s you, swiping through tinder or eagerly scanning the crowd at a bar wondering if tonight will be the night somebody gives you their number.

I think about my future and where I want to be 20 or 30 years from now, and for the time being I can’t see it with another person. The idea of a soulmate is ideal, but possible for me? I wish I knew. Time will tell, but if I stay single for the rest of my life, I’ll be okay. No matter where life takes me, no matter how long I’m without a relationship, I have too many people by my side for me to be alone. What it comes down to is that I’m too terrified to commit to one significant other, not that I don’t want to or that one person isn’t enough, but I fear I’ll fall out of love again. I fear I’ll have to have that conversation with someone else, and I truly don’t think my heart could take it. I’ve found it’s harder to break up with someone than be broken up with, because not only are you hurting, but so are they. I focus too much on endings. I can’t just be happy and let things happen. I can’t make time, I’m never interested in anyone that I find the energy to talk to. I ghost, I hurt feelings, and I hate it. I don’t want to be this way. Not sure if it’s the depression or a flaw I can’t escape, but I’m tired. More often than not I don’t even realize I’m being the worst, it just happens and then I wonder if I’m physically incapable of emotional connections even though I’ve had them in the past? Am I genuinely trash at being in relationships or am I not meant to be with anyone? I can’t even hold a conversation past 3 texts without regretting even putting in the effort. Is this part of who I am or is the universe telling me it’s not them I should entertain?

There’s not one second that goes by where I regret my decision or wish we were still together. That thought was fleeting, escaping moments after I fully understood we were over. I’ll never be in love with her again, as hard as I forced myself to think I could be. I’ll never want to marry her, have children with her, live with her, or call her my mine. Maybe she never was, maybe my heart was unable to love her to it’s fullest capacity.

There was one moment throughout the two years we were together where I knew us breaking up was inevitable, prior to me genuinely considering it, but I never wanted to admit that thought crossed my mind. It was soon into our relationship, maybe a couple months in. I had gone over to her house during the summer and we stayed up late watching Netflix. As we started to fall asleep, I held her. I noticed her breathing had changed and she was no longer awake. I closed my eyes and felt uncomfortable, like something wasn’t right. I wanted to leave. I wanted to drive home and cry. I was afraid of my worst nightmare. I told her I loved her the day she was officially my girlfriend, there was no way I was second guessing it this early. “You love her, stop overthinking it.” “But what if I can’t forever? What if this feeling, this happiness, goes away?” “It won’t, you’ve never felt like this towards anyone else, no one compares to her. This is the love of your life, take a deep breath and relax.” I pushed those demons aside and never questioned us again, that is until February of 2017. Those thoughts resurfaced. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t focus. Every night I tried to keep her up, because no matter how much I knew what I wanted, her company was soothing. We’d say goodnight, fall silent and my heart would begin to race. I didn’t want to be left to sift through everything I was feeling. I’d stare up at the ceiling and my thoughts would consume me. I knew it would be another night crying myself to sleep with her beside me. She had no idea, and I didn’t know what to do or who I could turn to. Each morning I forced my thoughts as deep as they could go and tried to keep up with a life that did not make me as happy as I could have been. I was fully prepared to be that unhappy forever, keep my mouth shut and go through each day ignoring the truth that I had buried to the back of my mind. My depression got worse, I began to develop crippling anxiety, and soon enough I couldn’t keep myself together any longer.

After all was said and done in May of 2017, I was caught up on that summer night 2 years prior for weeks on end. Should I have trusted my gut back then? Should I have broken things off before we were too involved? Would I have developed this irrational fear of falling in love again and breaking another girl’s heart if we hadn’t dated for so long? Would I have found someone else that resulted in the same painful ending? Would we still be friends? Would I be anything like the person I am today if we had broken up sooner? Would I know then what I know now?

I like to think dating her was one of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned. I learned what it was like to love, be loved, and feel safe with someone else. I learned how to move into my own apartment, to go grocery shopping, to go to a laundromat, to pay bills, to manage money, to maintain an independent lifestyle - even though I lived my life so in sync with hers. I learned what loving someone unconditionally means, because there is no doubt in my mind that I didn’t love her properly. I learned to never make the same mistake again - to keep quiet for the sake of someone else’s happiness. For too long I was miserable, and ever since we ended I’ve felt a sense of freedom I so desperately wanted for several months leading up to the day I didn’t actually think would happen to us. It hasn’t been easy, and I miss her from time to time. But to have broken her heart and worry that she’ll never heal, just to see her enter another relationship afterwards and be okay?? I’m relieved. She may not have contact with me in the slightest, but my biggest fear breaking up with her - that she’d never move on - proved to be wrong. I can fall asleep at night knowing someone who was once so important to me is happy, and so am I. I didn’t make a mistake, I didn’t ruin her life like I thought I would. I’ve grown so much over these past two years being single. I needed her from 2015-2017, but from 2017-2019 I needed me.

Today I am free. Today I am happy. Today I am everything I’ve dreamed of being. I cannot believe I was so convinced this version of myself was only possible if I was in a relationship a couple years ago. Today I am single and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Maybe one day I’ll be able to commit to someone again the way I did to her, but if my heart doesn’t let me then I know it’s not because there’s something wrong with me, but because everyone’s story is different and we all aren’t meant to live our lives the same as everyone else. If we were, wouldn’t the entire human race be identical? Would there even be a point in trying to make a life for ourselves if we were suppose to be the exactly the same?

I wonder if I’ll ever be excited over someone again or if that reality is out of reach for me.

[michaelmalloryfanfic-blog]

fic update: o thou, destroyer named - chapter iv

post links: chapter i // chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix //

ao3: chapter i // chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix //

Michael steps back. His breath comes sharp, sudden. He can hear the sound of his heart in his ears, blood rushing. The cold stone of the wall greets him as he leans back and steadies himself against it. Michael closes his eyes against the sight of her, closed up like a fist against him and he thinks of killing her.

It would be easy. She’s so small and the muscles in his hands contract at the thought of twisting them around her pretty little neck and squeezing until her eyes bug and her teeth crack. His chest aches, something is ringing in him like a single bell chiming. He remembers the feel of her neck beneath his fingers. He tries to forget the softness of her cheek, the darkness behind her eyes. He could snap her like a twig and nothing would change. The world wouldn't even notice, wouldn't feel the loss of her. She’s buried so far beneath the earth already. She might as well be dead.

But then, after a while, the inexplicable tugging in his chest ceases. His hands have stilled, no longer humming with violent intent. He opens his eyes to see her still curled into herself. Her skin is no longer sallow. It glows in the low light all thanks to him. How wasteful, how hedonistic it would be to snuff out this light now. The thought delights him. She is golden and fresh and, he thinks, without blemish. But then he sees, just to the left of her spine nearly at the center of her back, above where her heart should be, a dark, irregular shape. A birthmark. A flaw. Seeing it there, he feels she has just shared a secret with him.

Then, she unfurls. Michael watches like a man possessed. She is blooming before him, a rare flower. The kind that only blooms once every twenty years and smells like a rotting corpse. Beauty and horror. Life and death. This seems to be a habit of Mallory’s, to embody these dichotomies and it thrills him to no end.

She unfurls. But just her body. The rest of her, the soul, the pit of her stays wound up tight. All it would take is a little pressure, a short, sudden tug from him and she would come undone. But he doesn’t press, doesn’t tug. He lets her bury her dark parts, the same ones she claimed she didn’t have. He’ll let her go. For now.

Her shoulders stiffen and she glances over her shoulder at him as though she’s only just realized that he’s there. Her face is somehow different now. Foreign. Guarded in a way that it wasn’t before. Mallory seems to have gathered herself and there’s a placidity to her now, a stagnation. She sits there for a few more moments, the cloth is still in her hand, but she doesn’t make a move.

“Once you’re clean, come meet me in the interviewing area,” he says, his voice only wavering once and ever so slightly when she catches the right side of her bottom lip between her teeth. “Then we can begin.”

“Begin?” she replies softly releasing the soft flesh of her lips from her teeth. It’s rosy from her attentions.

He smiles. He doesn’t know why. For a man like Michael, a smile is rarely just a smile. A smile is tool, a weapon, a last ditch gambit if it needs to be. But he smiles. At what? At the rosy color in her lip? The birthmark, the secret on her back connecting them like an umbilical cord? At the memory of her neck like a thin reed in his hands? He doesn’t know. He smiles like he did when she had stared up at him with blood in her teeth and red ringed eyes. It is a compulsion.

“Why, the second interviews, Mallory,” he says in mock admonition, savoring the look of confusion and dawning dismay on her face. “Congratulations on making it to the next round.”

Second interview.

Mallory isn’t sure how she’s supposed to take that. The memory of her first interview wells up in her mind. How he loomed above her like the shadow of Death itself. How he put his hand upon her thigh and squeezed when he talked about burning trees. She remembers the fire.

Second interview.

She considers making a run for it. Mallory is a runner. For some reason, this statement feels incongruous to her despite it being true by all memory she can muster about her own life. She ran from the shit town she grew up in. She ran from her parents who seem barely real in retrospect. She ran from own mother when the apocalypse came calling, too afraid of what it would mean to die facing a woman who was a stranger at best to her despite the fact that Mallory should love her.

However, as soon as the thought occurs to her, Mallory realizes there’s no place to run. It’s nuclear winter above, poisoned apples and what she thinks may be a serial killer below. Still, there’s a voice in her head that urges her forward. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Don’t ask questions. Just survive. Just run.

Mallory exists the bathroom once the smell of blood and barf has faded enough for it go unnoticed. There’s no towels, no Greys left to restock them. So she walks out into the relatively large bedroom nude. She wonders briefly whose room she’s in. Personal items were nearly null in Outpost 3. Mead and her goons had taken everything from them when they first entered so there was no way to tell from the few scant items that are peppered throughout the room. There are two twin-sized beds in the room. One is a mess and the other still pristine. A hairbrush sit askew on a desk set up against the far wall. The evidences of a life lived. But now, that life was done, no one left to live it.

Mallory is amazed to find a fresh change of grays laid out for her on the bed that was still made up. She can’t imagine that Michael would lower himself to do something so menial. It’s then that she remembers Mead. The room shrinks and she feels somehow desecrated by this simple gesture. There’s nothing in it, Mallory knows this. Less than twenty minutes ago, a man she had met only days ago had just had his hand around her throat while she sat prone and naked in a bathtub but after so long of doing everything, not only for herself but from everyone else as well, it feels like a violation to have things done for her.

Mallory dresses in a haze, her mind oscillating between fight, flight, and freeze. She tries to takes stock of what she knows but finds she knows very little and the things she was once sure of are suddenly on shaky ground.

Her name is Mallory Wilson. Her mother’s name is Caroline. Her father is Sam. A year ago the world ended.

Her name is Mall - ory Wilson. Her mother’s name - doesn’t matter. She’s d - e - a - d. Her father is - dead too. An hour ago, the other twenty people she’s lived with for the past year died choking on their own blood and spit.

Her name - Ma - llor - y. Her - her mother is dead. Her father is dead. A year ago, the world died. An hour ago, the last people she's ever known died writhing on the floor like fucking animals being put down.

Her name is Mallory. Her name is Mallory. Everyone and everything is dead. An hour ago she was - dead.

She was dead. She was dead but now she is not. How? How?

Resurgence, something within her answers back and it is clearer than anything else she’s thought so far.

This one word that she both knows and doesn’t know feels more solid and substantial than her own parents’ names. It feels more absolute than the death of billions. It burns through her like a fever. Something in her head is beating against a boundary line that she didn’t know was there. It rages at her. Screams.

She leaves the room with its messy bed and lonely, discarded hairbrush. A haze has settled over her outwardly. Within, Mallory is a maelstrom. She doesn’t know where she is at first. She simply walks. The only thing she takes note of the eerily empty and spotless lounge area. There is no trace of what had befallen the inhabitants of Outpost 3 in that very room, no trace except her own memory which was getting blurrier and blurrier by the second. She’s in such a state that it isn’t until she’s standing just outside of the interviewing room that she glances down at herself and notices the large run in her stockings.

Mallory is dwarfed by the great sliding doors before her. The gray of her uniform washes her out and renders her muted against the lush, pitch blackness. The doors are slightly ajar forming a tall, thin pillar of light. It is a sudden amber interruption within in the vast darkness. A fire has been lit inside, just like the first time and Mallory can only just perceive its warmth through the echoing chill outside. The light is cast out into a slanted channel of amber warmth. Mallory sidles herself besides the opening careful not to catch the light. Last time, she had been summoned and then invited in. No such invitation is made. So she waits. She waits for an hour.

When she had first become an assistant, her feet used to ache from the hours of standing, the running circles all over LA in three-inch heels. Now, she hardly notices that over an hour passes. She stands besides the slender opening, just out of the reach or the warm light flickers as the fire shifts. Besides, the sensible black heels she had been issued when she entered the outpost are far more comfortable than anything she’d worn in Coco's employ.

Coco.

Her head snaps up. The trance that she's been muddling in for the past hour breaks. She tries to remember. The bodies on the floor. The taste of blood, bile, and apples on her tongue. She tries to remember their faces. Timothy. Emily. Their faces bloated, ashen. Dinah. Andre. Blood still spilling from their mouths like pitch black molasses. Greys all strewn across the floor in their cotton blend aprons and sensible shoes but no Coco. No Coco.

“That's where you've been hiding,” his voice breaks against her like a wave.

Mallory looks to the source of the voice and at the sight of Michael’s face she is struck suddenly desire to return. It is violent and excruciating. A soft gasp passes her lips. She wants to live in the cavity of his chest. She wants to devour his flesh. She is a wave shrinking back from the shore being sucked into the riptide and pushed out into the deep. Then just as suddenly as it comes, the feeling leaves. Mallory practically has whiplash by this point.

“Come into the light, Mallory,” he says kindly as though he is welcoming an old friend over the threshold. “Come out of the cold.”

He holds out a hand to her. No gloves just like the last interview. His skin seems to radiate heat, warmth, and comfort but she doesn’t take it. Mallory is afraid of what touching him will do to her if just the sight of him runs her through like a hot poker.

“Come on,” he says dropping his hand and turning into the room.

The room is set up different from before. The desk that he had sat in at the beginning of the first interview is still there but now it was completely cleared. There are two cushioned chairs situated near the fireplace. They are angled towards one another and between them sits a small table. Michael moves to the one on the left and sits.

It’s a strange sight, Langdon sitting. Almost every other time she’s seen him, he had had the higher ground. Always standing, pacing, circling even the seat behind the desk seemed higher than the one in front of it. But now he lounged, almost casually, in a cushioned chair before a glowing fire. He seems almost - human.

“Congratulations on your advancement, Mallory,” he murmurs. He sinks further into the chair and rests his temple on his knuckles. “This is the furthest that anyone has come in the process so far.”

There is not actual advancement or interviewing process of course. This is all a game for Michael’s benefit and entertainment but Mallory doesn’t know that. Still, she doesn’t take much pleasure in her quasi-fortune. This whole farce means nothing to her.

That’s the second time he's called her by name. The way he speaks the sounds and syllables feels somehow too close, too intimate and something stirs within her. She finds she cant meet his eye. She chooses instead to look into the fire, the memory of a surge of intent blasting through her, pulling the flames up around her like a robe comes to her unbidden. She remembers his surprised face looking up at her from his place on the floor. His question.

Who are you?

I don’t know. Who are you?

“Something on your mind?”

Many things. An infinite number of things and yet she can’t seem to grasp on to a single thought. When did she become so scattered? It is as though she is being pulled in a thousand different directions. She remembers. Coco. The lounge area, deserted and barren.

“What happened to the...the others? The lounge is empty. I passed by it on my way here.”

“You mean the bodies?” he replies and her eyes snap to him and he's smiling it must have been the reaction he wanted to elicit.

“Yes, the bodies.”

His smile widens.

“Mead was kind enough to dispose of them. It wouldn't be very polite of us to leave such a gruesome mess behind. Even if we are planning to leave soon.”

How unsettling, his unpredictable adherence to niceties. He has no qualms about disposing of bodies like common trash but he has a problem with leaving a mess. He cherry picks how and when he wanted to be polite and it felt like a game of Russian roulette trying to guess where he would land.

“That's not the question you wanted to ask,” he says pulling her from her thoughts again.

He is unwilling to let her wander. Her attention belongs to him. Michael watches the wheels turn in her head. He reaches in and finds her hesitant.

What is it? What do you want to ask me you, my fascinating bauble?

“Was...was Coco with them?”

The question startles him. It wasn’t what Michael had expected to her ask. He thought she would inquire about the Sanctuary or that she would be focused on what comes next. It's his turn to look into the fire, suddenly irritated at the earnest look of concern in her eyes. He can’t stand to see it bloom to hope when he replies.

“No, she was not.”

“Then,” she says her breath falling back into her throat, her voice breaking. “Then she's -”

“Oh no, she's very much dead,” he glances at her from the corner of his eye.

She crumbles and he likes it. Michael wants so badly to hurt her, keep hurting her until she learns where her focus should be. There is no one else now. She has nothing but him and whatever fate he makes for her. To want, care, or even think of someone else over him, is senseless.

“Mead found her, a knife in her skull. Quite a brutal end,” he says the last part with perhaps too much glee.

“Who would - who did it?”

“Jealous you didn't do it yourself?” he says and her jaw drops as if she plans to retort but he continues without letting her do so. “Some diseased drifter found their way in and Ms. St. Pierre Vanderbilt had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. Mead made quick work of him though. So I’m afraid we won’t able to send our thanks.”

Mallory grimaces.

“So she’s...gone?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

She’s become so small now, shrinking into her chair. Her head has dropped down, her eyes focused on her hands that sit motionless on her knees.

“Dead, yes.”

Silences yawns between them for a moment but then she mumbles something that he cannot quite hear.

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

Mallory’s shoulders rise as she takes in a large breath. Her head is still down when she repeats herself.

“I was too, wasn't I. I was dead.”

“Mallory,” he chides. “Be reasonable. How is that possible? You're sitting right there, very much alive.”

He watches her reaction closely. At first, she is stagnant. Like a statue, she is. She barely even breathes. Mallory takes another great breath and she looks up at him finally.

“I died,” she asserts. Michael is fascinated by this sudden show of spine. “I was dead and you brought me back.”

“Now how could you possibly know that.”

Her top lip twitches, nearly into a feral snarl. Michael is suddenly awash with the desire to snap forward and devour her, grab her by the throat and rip into her soft, pale skin with his teeth until all her blood and screams come pouring out into his mouth. He wants to drink them down like honey. Then, as if an echo of his own desire, as if she’s heard his thoughts, she lunges forward in her chair until she is sitting on the edge. Her hands have found their way to the edges of the arm rest, fingers digging into the fabric, her arms bent like birds’ wings. Michael things from a moment that she might jump him.

“Why?” her voice is shaking. A small, round tear is budding on her eyelashes in her left eye. It finds its way to her bottom lashes, an amber jewel. “Why? How?”

Resurgence.

Mallory feels the word within her, blooming like a red flower, but she can’t say it. She feels the thing in her mind pushing up against its boundary. The boundary is crumbling under the weight of whatever is behind it. It is shattering into the skin of her consciousness. She’s being cut to ribbons. Over and over, different voices sound in her head just like when she first came back. So many voice but never her own.

Resurgence.

A young woman with dark eyes and long straight hair, she tells Mallory that Death can be your friend if you let it.

Resurgence.

Dressed all in black, another woman tells Mallory that she’s safe now, no one will hurt her while Mallory is under her care.

Resurgence.

A woman who seems to be nothing more than the amalgamation of red lipstick and cigarette smoke tells Mallory that she’s died so many times, life and death bleeds into one another like water bleeds ink on a page.

Mallory feels as if she is all of these women and none of them. She knows she's never met them. They exist nowhere in the memory of her life and yet they seem realer to her now than the entirety her meager existence. Ever since she died, Mallory has no idea who she is anymore. She wonders if she ever did.

“Why?”

His voice is like a stone around her neck. It weighs her down.

“Why not?” he replies with a shrug.

He leans back into his chair, his shoulders fall back and for the first time since she's met him he slumps. He doesn't seem to relax, it is more like a tree bending to a great wind.

“As to the how, now that's a little harder to explain. Where are you from, Mallory?”

“Practically nowhere.”

He nods. He already knows that's she actually from a small town in Colorado and she's right, it is practically nowhere.

“Have you ever heard of Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies?”

Mallory nods.

“The headmistress was on the news a few years back, right? She said they were witches?”

Michael sneers at her last word but nods and gives her a pointed look.

“You can’t be serious,”

“As a heart attack, Mallory. They really were witches and they had powers, abilities,” he explains with an even tone. “They also had names for what they were able to do. Latin mostly. You died and I brought you back using what they would call resurgence.”

And there it is. The word that she's been wrestling with for hours now. It seems so harmless when he says it. She feels the thing in her mind settle.

Michael makes a point not to tell her about Vitalum Vitalis. There’s no need to over exert her. She might just break and all the fun along with her. Still, he wonders.

Can you feel that piece of me within you? he thinks. I can see it clear as day, like a piece of glass lodged in you. Does it hurt? Do you bleed?

“I hear it's an excruciating way to be brought back. Was it?”

“It hurt so much I forgot my own name," she says but then thinks it over. "But then...you gave it back to me. You called me by name and I remembered.”

He tilts his head to the side, the golden curtain of his hair shifting like water, like silk over his shoulder.

“Should I say ‘you’re welcome’?” he asks, a grin playing on his lips.

Mallory thinks back, thinks of the sound of her name coming down like a sledgehammer to her chest. She remembers the blinding pain of being ripped out of death.

“I didn’t say thank you,” she deadpans.

His grin never falters. It widens, in fact.

“What are you, Mallory?”

“I don’t know," she answers despite both of them already knowing that she doesn't have the answer.

Michael nods with mock sympathy.

“I'll be frank with you,” he says and leans towards her as though they are two co-conspirators. “I don’t know either but I think I know someone who might. Do you want to meet him?”

He stands and Mallory isn’t sure if she’s supposed to follow in suit. There’s a gleam in his eye that is child-like. He’s imbued with a new vitality all of a sudden. It’s almost frightening the way Michael has come alive.

“Come on,” he motions with his head towards the opening in the doorway.

She glances in the direction he insinuates. What was once a pillar of light is, from this perspective, now filled with darkness. All the lights in the outpost have been put out. Mead must have done it while they were talking. The sight of the utter darkness beyond this room makes Mallory squirm in her seat. There's a part of her that knows that this man is going to be the death of her. Something has rested dormant within for her entire life. It is bright and livid, pressing up against the dam within her mind that had been so well kept, up until she died and was brought back. Now it's screaming and ripping at her.

He’s going to kill you, it says. He is poison. He kills everything he puts his hands on.

“Come on,” he says again, gentler this time as though speaking to a child.

At the sound of his voice, she feels herself empty out. The bright thing within is silenced. All the women that are real but not real, that are her but are not her, dissipate like smoke. Fine. He's going to kill her but if anyone had the right to it at this point, it would be him. She’s already died once, a second go can’t be all that much worse.

So she takes his hand and decides to ignore the voices in her head telling her to run. She takes his hand and pushes back at the thing that rages in her mind. She takes his hand and his eyes turn bright and liquid with delight. Mallory takes his hand and resigns herself to whatever fate waits for her.

[paulisweeabootrash]

Series Review: Read or Die (R.O.D. the OVA)

Welcome to another episode of Paul is Weeaboo Trash! Today’s topic is a show I’ve previously seen one episode of, so long ago that I’m almost going in fresh: the OVA (what we in the US would call a “direct to video release”) of Read or Die (2001–2002)! I was lucky enough to grow up in a household where education and fun were not portrayed as opposites, and we had the means to find plenty of fun educational things to do.  My parents searched for all kinds of potentially interesting activities, and living in southern New Hampshire, the Boston area was not prohibitively far to go for them.  And so I was signed up for Splash, a program one weekend per fall in which MIT students teach middle- and high-school-age kids seminars on a wide variety of topics.

What counted as topics worthy of education was quite broad, however.  I ended up in a "class" that consisted of watching one episode each of several anime that the student running the class was a fan of.  This was back in the days where anime fandom spread person-to-person by recommendations and there was more emphasis on developing a background knowledge of "classics" among the more informed and/or snootier fans.  (I still feel this way a bit because certain tropes and references are so common or influential that being familiar with the original sources can make newer shows suddenly make a lot more sense, but I disapprove of the gatekeeper tendency to look down on people who don't yet know the things "everyone knows".)

I don't remember how many shows we sampled there, but the two that made an impact were Hellsing, which in retrospect was at best questionable for the age of the audience, and was very much not my thing because I have a low tolerance for gore, and the topic of this post, Read or Die, which was very much the kind of thing I wanted to see: a nerd being a badass in a fantastical way.  Especially since I was also really into James Bond at the time, so I was probably primed to eat up other media involving a British spy fighting a mysterious secret organization.  Since I'm incredibly averse to media piracy and had no clue where to buy anime, though, I never followed up to finish watching it, and eventually it faded from my mind.  Until I stumbled across the first volume of the manga for super-cheap at Saboten Con last year, and it flicked some nostalgia switch that reminded me how much I'd enjoyed it at the time, although I barely remember any actual details, so I am practically going in fresh here.

Read or Die follows Yomiko Readman, a teacher, obsessive book collector and reader, and superpowered secret agent who can manipulate paper in nearly any way.  Any paper available, from money to ribbons to a briefcase full of blank looseleaf she apparently just brings with her.  She uses this power in the course of her service as a secret agent, codename The Paper, working for the British Library?!  Along with Miss Deep, who can selectively phase shift, and Drake Anderson, a gruff and dismissive military type (and apparently potter in his cover job), she is assigned to a plan to save the world in a way that vaguely involves collecting books.  Saved from whom?  The I-jin, clones of historical geniuses with superpowers related to their areas of expertise, such as... knowing stuff about insects, or... uh... spreading Buddhism to Japan... who are going to flashy and violent lengths to steal books the British Library is trying to acquire legitimately.  Trust me, it eventually gets explained, and the Big Reveal, although pretty goddamn weird, fits in with the rest of what has been established.  Suspend your disbelief enough to accept the I-jin at all, and it’s fine, although still a bit ludicrous.

And I submit that all that is still less weird and ridiculous than your typical superhero or spy movie, and this show does after all have elements of both genres in one.  Or, well, more and more superhero and military action as it goes on.  Although the theme music uses 60s guitar sounds, chromatic chord changes, and blaring brass hits that are virtually guaranteed to evoke the James Bond theme, and our main cast do work for a secret intelligence agency, they are in quite open military-style conflict with the I-jin -- with the approval of the UN -- and very little that’s actually covert occurs, with the notable exception of something I can’t spoil that happens at the end of ep. 2.  And because of the superpower angle, some of the instances of weirdness are not flaws at all but pretty creative implementations of the characters’ powers (using a paper airplane as a lethal weapon?!).

This last point didn’t really fit in organically, but I'd also like to mention a couple of things about the art that I love but don't see often.  The very first shot of the series uses multiple flat backgrounds at different distances moving in relation to each other to convey the camera moving across the scene, which I have seen in other animated works (at the moment, I can only think of examples from very old Disney movies off the top of my head), but not in recent ones.  I don't know whether it's simply out-of-fashion or this is a result of the shift to CGI so animators figure "why would we do this when we can actually render a city with realistic perspective?"  This show also has a particular kind of fluid motion in characters that I’ve seen in many reasonably-high-production-value shows from the 90s and 00s, but rarely in newer shows (Space Dandy being a notable exception).  Maybe I'm watching the wrong recent shows, maybe it's just a stylistic choice that's out of fashion, maybe it's harder to pull off convincingly when you're not animating by hand.

I’m glad I finally got to watch this.  It’s even better than I remember.  Now to get to work on the rest of the manga and the other series.  Oh yeah, haha.  The abbreviation "R.O.D." stands for both "Read or Die" and "Read or Dream", which are different parts of the same larger series.  The Read or Die manga (4 volumes), this OVA series, the Read or Dream manga (also 4 volumes), and a 26-episode TV series all take place in the same narrative universe, rather than the usual model of the anime being an adaptation/retelling of the manga.  There is also a light novel series I know nothing about, but it sounds from the Wikipedia article like that is the single ongoing series that is the source for the two manga and two anime.  (There is also apparently a barely-related future side story manga.)

-----

W/A/S: 1/3/3

Weeb: I don’t think there’s much, if anything, in here that would require explanation to a typical Western audience and which isn’t also explained in the dialogue.

Ass: There is a single implied nipple in the opening sequence.  Gasp!  And Miss Deep's costume design is pretty fanservicey, but only barely more explicitly so than you're likely to get in American media deemed suitable for older children.

Shit: Until the Big Reveal, it's just unclear why anyone involved other than Yomiko should be this interested in acquiring the specific books that serve as the show’s MacGuffin, nor is it clear that the I-jin’s plans extend further than searching for them in a very destructive way, leaving me baffled that the Library immediately makes the connection that the books are key to saving the world.  There are a few minor errors in the subtitles and a visual glitch (Blu Ray remaster, please?), and a couple of places where faces just... don’t... look right.  Oh, and if you’re watching the dubbed version, add another half point of Shit for Crispin Freeman’s British accent.

And for the first time I feel the need to add a CONTENT WARNING.  Usually, I think the review is sufficient to give you the idea whether there is anything likely to be disturbing in a show, but this is different, because the first two episodes have the sort of over-the-top stylized combat you might expect from other action anime or Western superhero media, where even a death comes off as un-shocking.  But in ep. 3 of this, there is a shocking pivot.  There are several short instances of graphic and sudden violence of kinds that are quite a bit more disturbing and distressing (even when they involve the use of powers) than anything that occurred previously.

-----

Stray Observations:

- Yes, those of you who know a little Japanese caught that joke: "Yomiko" could be loosely translated as "read girl".  Her name is "Read Girl Read Man".  Because she likes to read.  Get it?  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!

- In the manga, Yomiko is also established to be a literal bibliophile.  As in "books, regardless of content, turn her on".  I'm kind of glad this is not a plot point in the anime.

- The “secret” operation in the last episode, which is conducted with UN approval and involves an actual military attack with an actual goddamn naval fleet (and collaborating with North Korea to keep the US too distracted to notice it, even though this is a British operation against an organization that literally burned down the White House in the first scene of the first episode) might actually beat the first few episodes of Full Metal Panic! for “worst undercover operation ever”.

[coruscantholonet]

Sim ongoing

Soooo,first a small update on the sim in that work on it is still going down.  We’d love to have an opening date but playing it by ear.  Real life comes first, and I’ve been dealing with a lot of health issues so progress is a lot slower than it normally would be for me.  Fortunately have had several talented volunteers who are doing great with the build, so expect some more updates soon.

Some things we’re looking for include;

1. Getting a few rigs done.

2. Have a few staff positions as well in both the GM and storyteller department. As always longstanding policy is that we only take on those who do not have staff/responsibility positions elsewhere. 

------------Skip below if you don’t like rubbernecking.

Next, I need to apologize.  I fucked up.  Recently I went at some people who didn’t really deserve the “wrath” which seemed to be a catalyst in a domino effect that crippled “Unification”.  I still have many criticisms of it, but that chain reaction allowed for something much worse to fill the void that was created and I speak of “SWU” and “Taris”.  While 0% of what I said was a “lie” there was of course items that were speculation and a bit harsh and in retrospect it was regrettable.  I had some people with real life connections to Cyprus in my ear and it was very much a fire which was extensively fed by those with a malicious agenda.  For all the flaws Loosh and others may have, they would be far favorable to Cyprus.  In the entire decade I’ve been here I don’t think I’ve ever encountered someone so corrupt, someone who has not an ounce of integrity or any idea what fair play is.  Over the last few weeks I’ve had to hear so many of the regulars here speak of how they’ve been screwed over there and it’s been a bit gut wrenching with the knowledge that I am partly responsible. 

One example I will provide of how he and his clique engineered the feud was that they were the ones leaking information from Unification chat.  I’ve always aspired to be the same in public as in private, so I’m not usually too concerned with “leaks”, but in this case it was a clear effort to escalate the fighting so that he could benefit from it.

Some other examples during this was when two votes where occurring in Unification at the same time.  One of them to take away Loosh’s server admin position, the other on banning me. 

So to make that clear.  Both Cyprus and Sabastiion/JOINASR traded votes in order to gain support for their effort to oust Loosh.  When that didn’t happen and they couldn’t obtain virtual “power” through Unification they instead broke off to make SWU.  

Everybody knows I don’t mind a “fight”, to some extent I’ll embrace it.  That’s just who I am, but in this case I do think that was used against me as I swallowed the bait and didn’t really take pause to see the agendas at play.  In retrospect, with the history Cyprus and Sabastiion/JOINASR have for this kind of thing, I should have seen it from a mile away.

So let’s start with their last sim, in 2017 they made a Corellia sim back when we were Coruscant.  We had been under construction much like now, however we had a major setback when those two saw the build then offered the builder a much higher sum than we were able to pay.  So they pretty much bought the build out from under us, then there was even some griefing during this period as they sought to do what they could to keep us from re-opening.. much like the present in which they’ve bribed several people over.  Eventually their co-admins got fed up with their antics and voted to remove their admin status.  In response they returned the build, several builders who had worked on parts of the sim where negatively affected by this and I’m not even sure it ever opened again.  Here is what their co-admins sent out at the time..

“ Tonight, (9/4/2017), the ownership team voted on the removal of another owner (Talon) and an Admin (Cyprus). The two of them had continually goaded another SWRP sim into conflict. That sim being Fourth Dimension/Legacies. They bought a build out from under the owner of that sim, trying to use it as their own and rushed to open before 4D was fully able to, and are now pinning that on us. They griefed said sim, and harrassed its players in their group chats on multiple occasions in attempts to either poach from them, or simply troll them. Talon, as an owner did not actually pay into monthly sim tier, and never passed along the money from rentals to the ownership team. We still don't know where that money is. Cyprus, controlled the tip jar in the landing zone, and we haven't seen a dime from that. This sim was started on the idea of civilizing Star Wars roleplay, and being done with this sort of drama. We, the ownership team are deeply sorry that this occurred, and we are going to be working as hard as possible to get the sim back open, and on a clean slate, starting from square one. We will have a skybox area open for roleplay ASAP as we complete the entire sim build. We greatly appreciate your support and patience during this time, and we hope to be back to full scale RP soon! Any further questions, please contact torresalpha12 “

And here is one of the builders of that sim;

[18:34] RedactedA: Eesh, Talon just did a seriously fucked up thing to Corellia. 

[18:35] RedactedB: yeah I heard he returned the whole sim

[18:35] RedactedA: He deleted the sim and is now advertising 4D in the groups. [18:35] RedactedA: That's seriously poor form. 

[18:35] RedactedB: wat 

[18:35] RedactedA: [18:31] Φ Brother Talon (sabastiion): Fourth Dimension (148,128,4083) ((Builds were stolen from here, and they also have 31 people. Looking for more RP outside of corellia? Consider this) 

[18:36] RedactedA: I worked on the build there too, I'm a little less than pleased my work was deleted as well. [18:36] RedactedB: He's such a cunt

So, they got removed from position, returned the build then started advertising for my sim.. this after they bought our builder out from under us.  I guess they figured they needed to get back on our good side after alienating everyone who had worked with them on that sim.  

They didn't even end up paying the builder all the money they'd promised, after they rage returned the sim they blamed the 150USD that never got delivered on the people who they had just left build-less that had nothing to do with the deal.

They turned around and offered us the build parts that the people they tried to stick with the bill didn't even have access to.  Trying to get back in good favor with us, we declined though, we pretty much sat there and watched that sim implode like "huh".  

09/06/2017 [00:08] Φ Cyprus (DarthWyyrlok Resident): Btw, the hutt palace that [redacted] made for us, probably one of the better things hes every made, did you want to use it?

There are countless other stories like this, they’ve ripped off many people over the years. 

[Redacted C]Years ago he was attempting to make a sim. He asked if i wanted to help out and be an admin. Said sure. Paid him 10k and he immediately banned me. Called me a dopey retard for believing him.  Part of me agrees with him.Ever since, if he shows up, i typically warn the fuck out of people and avoid him like a herpes ridden 3rd avenue hooker.

[Redacted D]Havent seen him on sim. But he sounds like a cunt.

[Redacted C] he's the lead for the empire on taris

This pattern of underhanded behavior extends to the roleplay itself.  I don’t think I’ve seen many cases of worse meta-gaming than from that circle of real life friends with Cyprus, Sabastiion and Nessa.   Here is just one example in which Cyprus plays both a Darth and a Jedi Master at the same time.. and...hunts himself.. clearly using one character to inflate the other, this is perhaps one of the worst abuses of alt accounts I’ve seen in my decade in SWRP...

[ Have cut out irrelevant posts from other people ]

[01:46] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1) walked in slowly, a shadow casted over his face as he stood on the dance area for a few moments before continuing forward. His footsteps where silent as if he was trained to walk in silence and his breathing nominalized. He hooded figure would proceed to the bar area where he would slowly sit down on the stool. Once again keeping the silence he had brought in with him

[02:11] Lord Talon walked in slowly his face hidden from all to see. The force around him pulsated as he walked in, each step he took created a soft tick that would echo across the room before drowed out by music. He then looked at the grey robed figure, his scent was masked but he could easily distinguish it from their past incounters. “Ah master Raven Tal” he said with a grin “It seems we meet again”

[02:13] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1) chuckled lightly as his head remained facing forward "It seems I've found you" he said in a low tone of voice as he stood up from his chair and faced Cyprus. Feeling the immense hate that radiated off of the sith warrior. His hands would extend outwards as the jedi warrior's lightsaber flew to his hands and ignighted, the blue blade humming to life.

[02:19] Lord Talon would simply grin at the comment that ordered him out. Instead he would enclose both muscular hands slowly around the hilt of the customized duel phase fouth generation saber as his skilled digets of his fingers locked into place. The weapon reacted to the brush of his touch in which followed a sudden snap and hiss igniting forth an extensive blood shine blade that illuminated the dark room. He gave a slight flourish of the imense blade as he twirled it between his hands before grasping it in a double djem power stance as he looked at the jedi that stood before him as a slight growle escaped from his teeth

[02:20] -Shiva- X -Shev'la Dinii- (ellisa01.turbo) drew her blaster pistols them, aiming one at the sith and then another at the jedi. With her fingers over the trigger she would then shout. "Oi, the fuck out of the establishment, now. Yo uare ruining business."

[02:21] Cyprus Talon (arijonas1) inclined his head slowly, tiping forth his chin in a silent acknowledgement of Lord Talon's invitation. His immense hands had enclosed around the enlongated staff hilt of his legendary blade and drew it close in a duel handed battle stance of Djem So in mirror of Talon's own. The laser blade gave a banshee wail as it whirled about suddenly in a brilliant flourish within the skilled flow of his hands, creating a whirlwind like effect of weaving blue blade before him as he approached abruptly foward, unleashing a controled thrust foward of the extensively long blade towards Talochest as he looked at the mando figure "I wouldnt shoot if I where you my friend" he said as he lunged forward

[ As if the style and names didn’t give it away, here he posted Raven’s post from the Cyprus account, then tries to cover in OOC ]

[02:23] Cyprus Talon (arijonas1): (whoops trying to send that back to him) [02:23] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): (i sent him that post lol and he was meant to check it and send it back incase i missed something lol) [02:23] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): (so just count that as my post so i dont have to re post lol)

[02:27] Lord Talon grinned slightly as he saw him lundge at him. He was more than prepared to dodge such an attack. He would side step away from the blade as he used his own to push it aside as he spun inwards and attempted to knock the side of the saber into Raven's head using his immense speed and strength that was fuled by his darkside enriched powers.

[ Some OOC arguing happened here, as Cyprus did not seem happy other people where interjecting in his fight..with himself, so back to the IC..]

[02:37] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1) moved around the woman standing there as he took into account the woman standing there as he simply rolled around her preventing her from getting in the middle. having maintained direct control over the fluid motion of the drive of the blazing red blade as it plunged forth from Lord Talon to his head, he would not overextend his balance and thus allowed him to counteract the strike to his head from Talon's own saber. There was a cracking hiss as the searing blades would connect he would extend a hand to Talons stomach he would attempt to push the Sith outward of the club to prevent any other distubance of the people inside, this was a jedi's fight, not theirds. And he would do whatever it took to finish it

[02:39] Lord Talon Eyes opened wide as he got hit by the force push, he was send flying out of the room as he then regained his balance by sliding across the floors with his boots that brought him to a halt. As he griped his lightsaber once more ready for Raven. He knew the jedi wouldn’t let the others get in the way so he left them alone and would focus on the jedi who he faced.

[ More OOC arguing about other people interjecting who then called for defenders choice RHCS, admin sides with them. ]

[02:49] Sihivus Verne: ((While V may not have been directly attacked, it is a club. Considering their club is being shot up, they are welcome to take action as judging per group defender roles)) [02:49] Cyprus Talon (arijonas1): (sighs  fine just let me and Raven finish because this was an really important rp taht had to be done and this was a sim we chose to meet at we didnt think others would get involved like this and lead to this ooc)

[ Extra hillarious when it is fairly obvious they’re the same ^  argument continues, eventually RHCS fight happens, Cyprus losses to the club bouncer. Of course the Jedi was mysteriously afk during the fight.. ]

[03:17] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): (ugg sorry about that everyone can someone fill me in on what happened, if anything happened in ims thanks!))

.[03:20] Eva Lekach: ( It's ok they got the Sith you are saved. )

[03:20] Eva Lekach: ( back ic )

[03:20] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): (i could have taken him lol)

[03:22] Lord Talon: m would be dragged out into the sidewalk of the the streets of the undercity as he chuckled lightly as he cluched his shoulder which had a bullet wound in it. after she let him go he would get onto a knee placeing on hand on the ground to stabalize himself as his sith coloed eyes looked at Shiva with long hatred. "I will find you and I will kill you, if you have family I sudgest you hide them for I will kill them.  You will cry out in pain beggin for death and i will not grant it to you, your pain will be that of 1000 dying souls.: he said as he collapesed onto his back and attempted to roll of the edge of the platform

[03:29] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1) shook his head "An interesting character Cyprus is, as stupid as his creator aparently" he said with a sigh looking to Sparrow "I'm sorry if he disturbed anything here, I mearly came by word of mouth that whe would be here, now it seems that I didnt need them." he said turning to Shiva "As for me, I do need them"

[03:29] Raven Tal (aaronsterling1) "when I leave"

[ The End.  Now while that was a few years back, he can’t use the “I was young” excuse, he was in his 20′s at the time as he’s now pushing 30, so this isn’t a case of ‘kids being dumb’.  This is a blatant abuse of alts IC, and clear attempts of deception OOC.  This pattern continued OOC elsewhere.. ]

[2013/11/02 01:34]  Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): And there is one thing I want to get clear, whats the big deal if I am an alt, or an old account of someone, which I am my old account got deleted and couldnt be recovered, Look the only reason im still in swrp is to get the rp back up and going between groups, thats why i cam because I know you guys are doing that do. Otherwise I would have given up swrp a long time ago, we all see it deteriating slowly and all I want to do is fix that, and I dont want to do this if people have anegative aditute twoards it. Honestly if I did something that got you upset please tell me and I can fix it! Please, I'm not sure what I did wrong, mearly came to say hello oocly thats all, nothign more nothing less then I got bombarded with questions. Im just confused is all [2013/11/02 01:35]  Chaos DarkRose (nymph.zenith): alts are fine, but pretending to be an elder ooc is not and might get you banned in some places. [2013/11/02 01:37]  Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): what are you talking about lol Ive been around for a very long time in swrp. Back when the soverignty existed and besipin was still going strong and coursant was a dominant system, Ive been around for a while, my old sith master was MagmaRyu, he was one of the most well respected sith back when I was an apprentice and I was very luck to have him as a master otherwise I woulndt be her today [2013/11/02 01:37]  Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): So I'm not making anything up [2013/11/02 01:37]  Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): there would be no reason to [2013/11/02 01:38]  Chaos DarkRose (nymph.zenith): that is not old [2013/11/02 01:39]  Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): thats about 5 years ago that im talking about [2013/11/02 01:39]  Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): 6 probably now [2013/11/02 01:39]  Chaos DarkRose (nymph.zenith): well log on and lets see, if you are as old as ranogar [2013/11/02 01:39]  Chaos DarkRose (nymph.zenith): he would remember back then [2013/11/02 01:40]  Raven Tal (aaronsterling1): i cant, my account was deleted my some ass, honestly how else can i prove this to you haha [2013/11/02 01:40]  Chaos DarkRose (nymph.zenith): do you realize how many times i've heard this? Over the span of almost 8 years?

[00:57] Cyprus Talon (arijonas1): Raven came to me earlier today and seemed upset and confused by something you said, hes a dear friend of mine so if I could, what did you say to him? [00:58] Chaos DarkRose (nymph.zenith): i have no idea what you are talking about [00:58] Cyprus Talon (arijonas1): Raven Tal, he said he talked to you the other day...

Besides learning how to use spell check? there has been little growth in Cyprus, he’s still someone who utilizes OOC methods to gain IC power.  When he failed to make a mark legitimately, he now tries to buy the status. Rewarding those who support him with high combat system ranks or even real money in some cases.  So like I said, going after Loosh and Uni was dumb on my part as I enabled the rise of the most corrupt motherfucker in SWRP.  So there is some obligation to raise transparency and awareness of some of his past antics. Some of his past names even seem to be banned by Linden Labs, I couldn’t tell you why but found that interesting. Take all of that for what you will. I’ve provided materials to backup pretty much everything I’ve ever said on him, it is a rarity when you have to speculate so little to illustrate what a colossal garbage person someone is.   Play where you wanna play and do what you wanna do, but do it with eyes wide open.

Their platform is the exact same pledge they made in 2017, just a couple weeks before they destroyed a sim many people had worked hard on..

8-22-17 “Star Wars Universe Town Hall Agenda”; created by Sebastiion

“This notecard will explain what we will be talking about in more detail during the Townhall Meeting, as well as explaining a little more about Star Wars Universe. The purpose of Star Wars Universe is to strive to create a multi sim roleplay experience, executed through Star Wars Roleplay groups within the community. In light of recent events, and in the past couple of years of roleplay, the community has drifted far from what is used to be. By working together and by leaders stepping up to the plate we can accomplish a community that speaks for all of us instead of only one individual.

What will we be talking about?

*Why has Star Wars Roleplay fallen apart.*

*How Star Wars Universe can play a huge role in restoring trust within our community.*

*How Corellia, Dantooine, and other key sims can play a supporting role in this.**

Why it's important that the leadership within the community drives their ideas from its *entire* player base, and not just from a *few* key leaders.*

*The future of Star Wars Roleplay and how we can make this project a success.*

Once these topics have been addressed there will be a time for questions, comments, suggestions, etc. Remember this movement is a grassroots movement that starts with you. Attending this town hall and making your voice's heard can help shape the future of Star Wars Universe. The link will be posted in a notice an hour before we begin.”

I guess they changed their mind by  9/4/2017 when they returned the sim :(, point being, they are full of false promises, and pretty much anyone would be a favorable alternative to having these meta-gaming scam artists continue to assert influence over the community.   

------------

“Dark Lord”  lolo, not sure if I’ve ever seen a case of someone less deserving.

[03:22] Lord Talon: m would be dragged out into the sidewalk of the the streets of the undercity as he chuckled lightly as he cluched his shoulder which had a bullet wound in it. after she let him go he would get onto a knee placeing on hand on the ground to stabalize himself as his sith coloed eyes looked at Shiva with long hatred. "I will find you and I will kill you, if you have family I sudgest you hide them for I will kill them.  You will cry out in pain beggin for death and i will not grant it to you, your pain will be that of 1000 dying souls.: he said as he collapesed onto his back and attempted to roll of the edge of the platform

[multi-level-shipper]

”Create Music” Screwing Over Youtubers

(Excerpt from the description of Cuphead - Floral Fury Remix [Re-Upload] by RetroSpecter. Link at the bottom if you want it.)

“On October 24th, nearly a month ago, King Dice and Floral Fury were copyrighted by a company called Create Music. I had never heard of this company before, so I quickly emailed 3 different companies: YouTube, MDHR (Cuphead Devs), and Create Music. MDHR unfortunately never got back to me. I emailed them twice within the same first week I was affected, so I assumed they were busy because they never replied. YouTube gave me a generic response, saying it was up to the "copyright holder" to reject or approve my dispute. Since Kamex and Noteblock got rejected with minutes, it's safe to assume Create Music's appeal process is automated. Lastly, I messaged Create Music themselves via email, and they replied by saying that unless my remixes are "official", all money will be going to MDHR. I believed that for about a week, but after doing some more digging and looking at MDHR's video policy, I noticed a lot of flaws in this email. On top of these 3 companies that I emailed, I got in touch with the composer of the Cuphead OST and one of the main sound designers. The composer, Kris Madigan, said that it was out of his jurisidiction when I mentioned Create Music, which most likely means he wasn't really sure about what was going on. The same goes for the sound designer I just messaged recently. They said they're looking into and hopefully will figure out something in about a week. They also mentioned that it could have to do with the presets and instruments I used in my remixes. However, what doesn't add up is Kamex, Noteblock, Musical Ghost, and I all use different instruments and styles. There's also the fact that they only did this to a few Cuphead remixes on October 24th and nothing else after that. I did hear reports of Let's Plays being copyrighted about a week before the 24th on Twitter, but MDHR responded to those which caused Create to give the YouTubers that were affected back their copyrights. It seems like no one is really sure who Create Music is or if they are even legitimate. They do not even have a secure website when you go to it. The only hint of hope they have is that the sound designer pointed out that it could be something to do with Microsoft, and not MDHR themselves, since Cuphead was released on both Steam and Xbox. Another thing someone recently pointed out; according to internet posts and some more research, Create Music also was named under a company called "Merlin Label Engine", who were copyrighting original music for a while. This name was taken away from them when YouTube finally did something about it. On top of all this, my friend did some digging and found out on one of their websites under DMCA that they basically require you to go to court if you want to completely dispute them, something us smaller YouTubers would never do, either due to fear or lack of money. My theory is that they tackled a few rising Cuphead remixes, not enough so that everybody would know, but enough to screw over a few people for a quick buck. This isn't even about the ad revenue. This is about companies stealing money from content creators with no verification and that this is a huge deal and YouTube needs to do something about it, because we can't. We literally cannot do anything, aside from re-uploading and hoping for the best. If MDHR was actually getting the money or if I got a confirmation from them saying that they are working with Create Music, I would happily be okay with them taking my revenue. The game means alot to me honestly, I've been following it for two years without spoiling much for myself. But it's a game I wanted always buy on Day 1. Please share these remixes with anybody you know that listened to or liked the original. Send it to the music extenders, send it to the animation memers, send it to everyone. Spread these videos like the plague and get the word out. It's going to take a LOT of time to get these back to where they used to be, and it may not even happen. My biggest fear is people thinking that I stole these remixes from myself. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read all of this. I'll be happy to answer any questions any of you may have. Love Retro.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZM-Z9c9Lx4E

[weekendwarriorblog]

WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND May 10, 2019  - POKEMON: DETECTIVE PIKACHU, THE HUSTLE, TOLKIEN and More

It’s Mother’s Day weekend and while Avengers: Endgame seems to holding strong, we get four new movies in wide release, two of which I’ve seen, both of which are pretty decent. Unfortunately, due to illness, I’m running a bit late on this column, but I’ll try not to cut too many corners.

The big movie this weekend is POKÉMON: DETECTIVE PIKACHU (Warner Bros.), starring Ryan Reynolds as the voice of Pikachu and Justice Smith from Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, plus the likes of Bill Nighy and Ken Watanabe, the latter who seems to be Legendary Pictures’ go-to Japanese actor. (He’ll be appearing in Godzilla: King of the Monsters later this month.) I’m hoping to still get around to reviewing the movie, but I will say that I generally enjoyed it, even if my connection to the material was the old TV cartoon rather than any of the games. (Look for that review before Friday, if I’m able to get my ass gear. In the meantime, here’s my interview with director Rob Letterman.)

I’ve been interested in the Anne Hathaway-Rebel Wilson comedy THE HUSTLE (U.A. Releasing) since it was called “Nasty Women” and was a straight-up remake of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, but I just haven’t had time to catch the one press screening, so it looks like I’ll have to catch this sometime down the road.

And then there’s POMS (STXfilms), a new Diane Keaton comedy featuring an ensemble of actresses in their prime, including Pam Grier and Jacki Weaver. While this doesn’t look like my kind of movie, I totally would have gone to see it if I could, but I’m less apt to see it than The Hustle.

The other movie opening Friday which I’ve seen and enjoyed is TOLKIEN (Fox Searchlight), directed by Dome Karukoski (Tom of Finland) and starring Nicholas Hoult as J.R.R. Tolkien and Lily Collins as his wife Edith Bratt. I’m hoping this finds an audience, even though it’s obviously competing with much stronger and more high-profile films.

Mini-Review: I began to watch this movie with some trepidation, because at least at first, it seemed to be a typical biopic, much like director Dome Karukoski’s previous film. At least as the film began, it cut between Nicholas Hoult’s Tolkien while on the frontlines during WWII and his early schooldays at King Edwards and then Oxford, where he formed a bond with three other students.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure I necessary needed to see a Dead Poet’s Society type way of getting the viewer to know more about the fantasy author, but that’s just a very small part of the film. Where the film really picks up is when Hoult and Collins take over their respective roles, because this is when the romance between Tolkien and Edith becomes a larger part of the story. It’s a bittersweet tale where Tolkien is forced to pick going to Oxford over continuing this romance by Colm Meany’s pries, who has become Tolkien’s guardian after his mother dies suddenly. The majority of the film bounces between Tolkien in the trenches and dealing with school issues, being a poverty-stricken orphan, but he finds an ally in Derek Jacobi’s headmaster.

I’m constantly impressed by what Hoult has been doing as an actor as he gets older, but Collins really brings more to their scenes together than any of the classmates or acting veterans.

Tolkien is a flawed film for sure, but the last half hour is so abundantly full of feels it’s easy to forgive the earlier problems, as Tolkien seeks out one of his school chums on the battlefield, a part of the movie where Karukoski is allowed to shine as a director. (Honestly, I think Steven Spielberg would be quite proud if he made this movie, and that’s saying something.)

I’m not sure this movie will be for everyone, even those who love Tolkien’s work as much as I do, but as a testament to what an amazing life he had before he started writing The Hobbit, it’s quite an amazing story with a worthy film to tell it.

Rating: 8.5/10

You can find out my thoughts on the weekend box office over at The Beat.

LIMITED RELEASES

There’s actually some decent movies opening this weekend, but the one that I want to give special attention to is John Chester’s doc THE BIGGEST LITTLE FARM (NEON), which is all about how he and his wife Molly left their California apartment living behind to try to develop a 200-acre sustainable farm outside L.A.  For months, my favorite doc of the year was NEON’s Apollo 11 about the 1969 moon launch, but this quickly took it over after I saw it, because it’s amazingly educational in terms of what it takes to make a farm work. It also looks absolutely fantastic, and seeing the trailer in IMAX in front of Apollo 11 made me really want to see it. If you want to see a great doc that hopefully will be in theaters over the summer, then definitely look for this one. I’m sure it will open in a few cities Friday but hopefully NEON will do another great job getting out there as they did with Apollo 11 and Three Identical Strangers last year. This movie is a MUST SEE.

Kenneth Branagh directs and plays William Shakespeare in his new historical movie ALL IS TRUE (Sony Pictures Classics) which also costars Dame Judi Dench and Ian McKellen. It follows Shakespeare on his return home to Stratford after the Globe Theater has burned down, as he tries to reconnect with his older wife (Dench) and his two estranged daughters. This is a fine film if you’re a fan of Shakespeare’s works and were interested in knowing more about his last days, because it features a great script by Ben Elton, and fine performances by Branagh and Kathryn Wilder as his younger daughter Judith, who gets caught up in controversy while trying to find a husband. It will open in New York and L.A. this weekend, and you should look out for my interview with Sir Kenneth over at The Beat in the next couple days.

Opening at the Metrograph this week is Abel Ferrara’s PASOLINI (Kino Lorber), an amazing look at the Italian filmmaker as played by Willem Dafoe. I’m not particularly familiar with Pier Paolo Pasolini’s work, although the Metrograph did a pretty extensive retrospective last year. Like with All is True above, the movie covers the last days in the filmmaker’s life, and it proved to me that Dafoe is doing some of the best work of his career these days and like a few others (Woody Harrelson and Ethan Hawke, for instance), you can put Dafoe in your movie, and it will immediately make it better. I haven’t seen much of Ferrara’s recent work but I feel it’s been a while he’s been at the height of his greatness with Bad Lieutenant and King of New York, so it’s nice to see him creating a new movie in that general vein.  Apparently, Ferrara’s movie premiered at Cannes many, many moons ago, but I think it was a smart move by Kino Lorber to save the movie and give it a release. By pure coincidence… or not… MOMA has been having a Ferrara retrospective (see below), so if you haven’t been able to get up there and see the movie, then you now have a chance with Ferrara and Dafoe doing QnAs after a few showings this weekend.

Matt Smith plays cult leader Charles Manson in CHARLIE SAYS (IFC Films), the new movie from American Psycho and The Notorious Bettie Page director Mary Harron along with her frequent collaborator, writer Guinevere Turner. As a huge fan of their previous moviesand with interest in the subject matter, I’m not sure why I never got around to watching the screener I’ve had for months, but much of it has to do with how generally busy I’ve been. Anyway, it will open in around 35 theaters and be on VOD this weekend if you have similar interest.

Opening at the Film Forum Wednesday is Almedea Carracedo and Robert Bahar ‘s doc THE SILENCE OF OTHERS (Argot PIctures). Executive Produced and presented by Pedro Almodovar, this is an amazing film about the horrendous crimes committed under the Franco regime in Spain by people who were able to get away scott-free when it was decided to create an Amnesty Pact of “Forgiving” after Franco’s death. The thing is that there are people who had been tortured or had loved ones killed who are hoping to get justice or just get their bodies back from mass graves, and this doc covers those amazing efforts. Frankly, I found this film to be far more interesting than Joshua Oppenheimer’s similar films about the crimes by the Indonesian government in The Act of Killing and The Look of Silence.

The Quad Cinema will have two new exclusive releases starting Friday, beginning with Christian Carion’s French thriller MY SON (Cohen Media), starring Guillaume Canet as a man whose son has been kidnapped, so he travels across France to where his ex-wife (Melanie Laurent) lives to try to solve the crime.

Also, the Quad will be showing Nicolas Brown’s doc The Serengeti Rules (Abramorama), which looks at five ecologists who broke new ground with scientific concepts we take for granted, and it looks at how the Serengeti might be the place to look for civilizaton’s sustainable future.

Amy Poehler makes her feature directorial debut with the comedy Wine Country (Netflix), which is getting the usual nominal theatrical release in a handful of theaters but mostly will be on the streaming network. It co-stars long-tie Poehler pals Maya Rudoloph, Tina Fey, Ana Gasteyer and Paula Pell, but I’m excited to see it for Maya Erskine from the Hulu show Pen15 and the upcoming rom-com Plus One, which was one of my favorite movies at Tribeca. (Don’t worry.. I’ve started writing something about that festival, too, so stay tuned!)

Opening in New York at the Cinema Village and in L.A. at Arena Cinelounge is Akash Sherman’s Clara (Screen Media), starring Patrick J. Adams as Isaac Bruno, an astronomer looking for life beyond Earth. This becomes more of a reality when he meets Troian Bellisario’s artist Clara, who shares his interest in space.

After years of problems and lawsuits, Farhad Safinia’s The Professor and the Madman (Vertical) is finally seeing the light of day, no thanks to a lawsuit put on it by star and producer Mel Gibson, who plays Professor James Murray, who begins compiling the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, receiving 10,000 entries from Dr. William Minor (Sean Penn), who is a patient at a asylum for the criminally insane. I have no idea how bad this movie must be to be buried as long as it has, but it has a great cast including Eddie Marsan, Natalie Dormer, Stephen Dillane, Jennifer Ehle and Ioan Gruffudd, so how bad can it really be? Good luck finding it in theaters but it will prbobably be on VOD as well.

This week’s major Bollywood release is Student of the Year 2 (FIP), directed by Punit Malhotra. As you might guess, it’s a sequel to the 2012 romantic comedy, this one involving a love triangle between a guy and two girls, and it will be released in about 175 theaters on Friday.

STREAMING AND CABLE

Amy Poehler’s directorial debut WINE COUNTRY will begin streaming Friday, though I haven’t seen it yet, so instead, I’ll recommend Dava Whisenant’s fantastic doc Bathtubs over Broadway, which will premiere on Netflix Thursday. I missed this movie last year but I got to catch-up when it screened at the Oxford Film Festival in February, and it’s fantastic. It follows Letterman writer Steve Young as he follows his passion to find rare records featuring industrial musical numbers presented at corporate events throughout the ‘50s and later to energize employees.

REPERTORY

METROGRAPH (NYC):

I’ve already mentioned how Playtime: Family Matineeshas become this cinematic comfort food that’s helped me relive my childhood, but this weekend, the shit gets real as they screen the 1977 action-adventure Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, featuring the stop-motion animation of the late Ray Harryhausen. I still remember first seeing The Golden Voyage of Sinbad at a drive-through in Framingham, Mass. when it first came out and I loved it so much I picked up the novelization. I wonder if I still have that somewhere. (I’m pretty sure I saw this sequel as well.) Late Nites at Metrographwill screen Lukas Moodysson’s 2002 film Lilya 4-Ever, as well as the not old enough to be repertory film Climaxby Gaspar Noe. (Lots of cool movies coming up in this series, as well.) Another series starting Friday is the first-ever New York retrospective of Japanese filmmaker Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, whose new movie Asako I & II will have its theatrical premiere at the Metrograph starting next week. I’m not too familiar with Hamaguchi’s work – though I’ve seen Asakoand generally liked it -- but I don’t think I’ll have the time to see his 5-hour long 2015 family drama Happy Hourany time soon. The series features seven of his movies, almost all of them shorter than Happy Hour. (2012’s Intimacies, showing a week from Thursday, is four hours long.)

THE NEW BEVERLY (L.A.):

After showing the Judy Garland version of A Star is Born  (1954) today at 2pm, the New Bev has double features of Claudia Weill’s Girlfriends (1978) and It’s My Turn (1980), the latter starring Jill Clayburgh and Michael Douglas, on Weds and Thurs. Kathryn Bigelow’s Strange Days (1995) and Lizzie Borden’s 1983 Born in Flames will screen on Friday and Saturday and then the 1933 film Christopher Strong (starring Katharine Hepburn) and Anybody’s Woman  (1930) will screen Sunday and Monday. The weekend’s KIDDEE MATINEE is the animated The Chipmunk Adventure  (1987) while the 1995 anthology Four Rooms (featuring one room by Tarantino) is the Friday midnight and Anna Biller’s 2016 film The Love Witch will screen midnight on Saturday. On top of that, there’s a special Cartoon Club on Saturday morning at 10AM and Gina Prince-Bythewood’s Love & Basketball  (2000) will screen Monday afternoon.

FILM FORUM (NYC):

It’s the last full weekend of Film Forum’s“Trilogies” series and on Thursday, they’re screening Whit Stillman’s (Is this a real title for the trilogy?) “Doomed. Bourgeois. In Love” trilogy Metropolitan (1990), Barcelona  (1994) and The Last Days of Disco (1998) with Stillman doing select intros and QnAs that day. Friday is Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s “BRD” Trilogy, including The Marriage of Maria Braun (1978), Lola  (1981)and Veronika Voss, and this weekend is a Carol Reed Post-War Noir Trilogy, including The Third Man  (1949). Saturday also sees a Michelangelo Antonioni trilogy including L’Avventura  (1960) and two other films from the Italian master. Sunday and Monday sees a very rare screening of Wim Wenders’ “Road Trilogy” including Kings of the Roadfrom 1976 and Alice in the Cities. Also, on Wednesday and Saturday is a repeat of a John Ford trilogy, including Rio Grande and Fort Apache, plus don’t forget the weekend’s family-friendly Film Forum Jr, which this weekend shows a bunch of cartoons from Bugs, Daffy and Friends. Obviously, there’s a lot going on at this venerable NYC arthouse and I hope to get to some of these now that Tribeca is over.

EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):

If you live in L.A., you can spend a good part of your weekend at Maltin Fest 2019, taking place at the Egyptian Theater, which includes a really incredible series of screenings and events with special guests. Friday is Nicole Holefcener’s Please Give with Holefcener and frequent collaborator Catherine Keener on hand, plus a screening of Sing Street! Alexander Payne and Laura Dern will be there Saturday afternoon to screen the filmmaker’s early work Citizen Ruth, plus lots more! I also want to pay special attention to them showing the late Jon Schnepp’s doc The Death of “Superman Lives” on Saturday night.

AERO  (LA):

Thursday is a Christopher Munch double feature of The Hours and Times (1991) and The Sleepy Time Gal (2001) with Munch and the great Jacqueline Biset in person! Then it goes right into Starring Europe: New Films from the EU 2019 i.e. new films, not repertory but still interesting.

IFC CENTER (NYC)

Waverly Midnights: Parental Guidance shows James Cameron’s Aliens (okay, am I crazy or do they show this every other month?), Weekend Classics: Love Mom and Dad  shows Martin Scorsese’s Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974) and Late Night Favorites: Spring is the Coen Brothers’ Fargo (1996).

BAM CINEMATEK (NYC):

In the midst of Black 90s: A Turning Point in American Cinema, which will include Ice Cube’s Friday (on Friday, of course), as well as Set It Off, New Jack City, Belly, Straight Out of Brooklyn and Menace II Society over the weekend. Also, the late John Singleton’s Boyz n the Hood will screen twice on Sunday as well as on Monday as part of the series.

MOMA (NYC):

Abel Ferrara: Unrated continues this week with repeats of 1998’s New Rose Hotel, 1993’s Body Snatchers and more recent films like 2017’s Piazza Vittorio and 2007’sGo Go Tales, and this series will continue next week. The current Modern Matiness will conclude with Pixar’s Up on Wednesday and Vincente Minnelli’s Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) on Weds and Thurs, respectively.

MUSEUM OF THE MOVING IMAGE (NYC):

Panorama Europe continues through the weekend but that’s all new stuff, not repertory.

LANDMARK THEATRES NUART (LA):

Friday’s midnight screening is Wes Craven’s Shocker (1989) with a QnA… but not with Craven.. unless they plan the creepiest movie tie-in possible!

That’s it for this week but next week, we get John Wick Chapter 3 and more!

[anbu-legacy]

Hi all! Thank you so so much for writing this wonderful story, I’m not quite halfway done with “When the Last Roll Is Called” and I was just too excited not to tell you how much I love your writing.

So, um. Before I get to the excited flailing, I must confess that Naruto is one of my osmosis fandoms. The fandoms you get into because, ‘This author writes for it, I like their writing, oh look so does this one, etc etc’, and then I fell down the ninja feels rabbit hole (luckily escaping the whole rabbit moon goddess shtick on the way down). So my knowledge of canon is at least 30% fanon and 20% wiki with a few of the recommended fight scenes thrown in. This is great for most things such as reading fic, and cooing at pretty gif sets. This is not conductive to actually being able to track canon divergence, keeping up with minor characters, etc.

So when I heard of ANBU Legacy (by way of tozette) I was pretty skeptical. Not to say that it wasn’t probably good, but I was doubtful of my ability to keep up with an entire rp thread style story that would inevitably be tight knit and drawing heavily on a canon I was mostly unfamiliar with.

A year past (…and my brother and I discovered a new avatar… wait wrong story) and I mostly put it out of my mind until a month ago when I found yet another person (by this point there were tens of posts reccing this story) telling the internet that they as a collective should read Legacy. And I thought, why not?

I didn’t have anything else to do, and with finals rapidly approaching, I needed something to distract me from gnawing my fingers off with stress, so I brought out my tablet and opened “After the Ending”.

I haven’t regretted it since.

The whole story is compelling in a way that feels completely really and invites me to emphasize with the characters. I wasn’t lost at all when reading about Raidou or Genma or Sagara (WHOM IS LIFE GOALS, I can only dream of being that composed) I love the detail and care that goes into everything from the world building to the interpersonal relationships. And as they say, the ninja feels really hit hard.

I have so many favorite parts too. I don’t know how to list them all, but I’m going to give it my Best Effort!!

Firstly Raidou (my phone wants to correct his name to radio lmao) and Genma’s lunch after the first part of the trials was perfect. I loved seeing them start to feel out each other’s place in the team and the later conversations (notably Genma’s adventure with wind country spices in eggs (rip his taste buds)) followed so smoothly from that.

I adore the world building you’ve put into ANBU, and the tattoo scene and reveal of the ‘sparks’ was SO GOOD. Kakashi fainting was just the cherry on top. His continued fainting was a pleasant and hilarious surprise, though he probably finds it less so. His character in general is written with a lot of depth that makes me smile to read it. His threads are some of my favorites to read (though this is like asking to pick a favorite book, THEY’RE ALL MY FAVORITE).

I also loved the little touches that get thrown in, Kakashi’s thought about being reborn as someone who uses nepotism made me laugh out loud, and the ANBU who made their explosion into a phoenix in the trials was a moment of brilliance.

Raidou’s scene with Ryouma in the immediate Akiyama fallout, and the previous worry over Ryouma using his rot jutsu on a proctor were both excellent parts of the trials and the turn around only minutes later, to worry /about/ Ryouma was so fun to read (if not fret to death over).

Raidou in general!! His care about his teammates! His insistence in boundaries! His willingness to tackle his weaknesses for the sake of his team! (see: me crying over his upcoming genjutsu lessons forever) His moms!! (See also: My shameless admiration for their parenting skills, and crying when Raidou finally went home). His flaws! His worry over being a good leader!!

Speaking of leadership!! Kakashi’s evaluation was the best!! By the numbers was generally an amazing thread. Heart eyes @ Genma forever for dodging his needling after it and steering him towards his teammates time and time again.

And the way the team has grown together over their two missions!! I love that they’re like -these are my people now-. And all they try to do to get Raidou back when he’s suspended is so touching.

Also! Boundaries!! That’s such a good theme!! I really appreciate the fact that they’re ninja but not unrepentant assholes (except to Kuroda who should step on a thousand Legos forever arg).

I also really love that none of your writing is grimdark all the time, and the emphasis on healing and learning from your mistakes really made some of my days brighter.

Katsuko’s layers were such a surprise?? In retrospect that isn’t so shocking, people are multifaceted duh, but when I was reading some of her threads it was like meeting a completely new person, which was Amazing. She’s so good for her teammates, and I love her interactions with the rookies especially. Her nicknames for Kakashi always make me smile, and the way she talks to Ryouma is such a good. Totally agree with Genma and Raidou’s decision to have her consider command track, the way you wrote her responding to that evaluation was note perfect. That scene with Raidou where they watched movies pre-legacy was so good. I hope Raidou can get her files soon!

Ryouma’s dream to become a healer is so good, I hope it’s as good for him as it seems like it’s shaping up to be (if someone *cough* Kuroda *cough* will stop being a pick about it). It’s so satisfying to see him start down the path of helping his team, and people in general. The team’s support behind him is touching. I love Genma’s threads on getting him started, and Kakashi reading Genma’s scroll three times before helping him made me laugh out loud.

And also the missions? I love the way you set them up, and the fact that the characters go over them later (performance reviews for everyone! (paperwork for everyone!)). The fight with Iebara was fantastic to read, it had Mr on the edge of my seat. The fact that Raidou’s actions at the town had consequences is, while heart wrenching to read, is so good to read in a narrative sense. Real world actions have consequences and such. It’s so nice to see those not discarded. The fight with the demon queen was really fun to read in an edge-of-your-seat sort of way, and that later scene with Hisa just made my heart melt. I’m so happy the team got something good out of that.

The whole codes system that you use is really fantastic (though I wince to be the ninja who memorizes them). I loved the radio operator who missed the transmission, I hope they’re ok. It was a touch of horrible reality in that situation. Asuma’s scene with Minato in the aftermath was so good too. Minato being such a presence for him, and asking for the information that he so desperately needs, while trying to keep Asuma together. The lingering suspicion, and Asuma’s resigned acknowledgement of it. It rang true in the aftermath of such a devastating mission.

Minato being a good leader, but also trying so hard to be a good father is so good and important. I loved the bubble jutsu scene, and Minto casually besting Kakashi in impressing Naruto with cute animals made me smile. He’s such a ‘I took 5 hour energy in my coffee’ dude, while also being /The Yondaime Hokage/ (and not so secret crush if nearly all ninja). The ANBU letting him sleep is a cute touch that I absolutely agree with. Minato, /sleep is important to ur health/.

Naruto’s voice is also done really well! It balances the fine line of childish and not overly simplistic. I love his new housekeeper (and I have to say not sorry At All to see Saya go).

Genma mother henning the team will never get old, and when he talked about one of the reasons why, it made perfect sense. He doesn’t look reckless, but IT’S JUST HIDDEN BEHIND ‘It needed to be done for the mission’ (See: Me screaming about him hiding from the demon queen and self inducing a fever, and then operating on a civilian recovering while still recovering from being poisoned (Genma babe, I love you, but the things you do in the name of taking care of people…. I hope Ryouma can help)).

I love Ryouma and Kakashi’s character growth. Their interactions with friends (Rin and Minato, Ayane and Hakone) are so interesting.

I really liked seeing the ninja from civilian perspectives, Shiranui Yuuichi was one of my favorite non team 6 perspectives. I relate to him so much, baking, endless fretting, giving food to passerby. The differences between civilians and ninja is never so obvious as when reading his perspective.

Speaking of non team 6 perspectives! Kurenai was /AMAZING/. I loved reading her debriefing team 6 and her running to try to advocate for Raidou was touching. Her professionalism while talking to team 6 was so well done.

I’m starting to repeat myself, and this is already running pretty long, so I’m just going to wrap this up by saying I LOVE TEAM 6. (Hot team 4ever) I love their kindness and the care they wrap their jagged edges in, and the way they’re all trying in their own ways to be better than they were yesterday.

[zydrateacademy]

Retrospective Review: The Entire Mass Effect Franchise

Andromeda is coming out in a week (as of this writing) and I feel like I want to revisit the franchise. I’ve done a post like this a few years ago when my blog was new but didn’t really settle in on a style and it was kind of garbage with a lot of pointless paragraph breaks. First, some quick insight. I was born in ‘89. That means I was too late to life to be considered an “80’s” kid, and the 90’s were half over before I was able to form real likes, dislikes, or memories. It’s a strange bit of flux because most of my “Nostalgia” is usually in the form of Legos as opposed to comics, games, movies, etc.

It’s a flux that’s kind of leaked into my daily life. My family is not, and never has been particularly affluent. Every extra ten dollars we find, we think “YES. A few days of gas” or “YES. Lunch money.” We’re not poor, we’ve never had a lot of room for amenities. We update our computers basically once every 5-10 years based primarily around income tax returns. Whatever hand-me-down I get from person who was able to afford their new computer, it was always better than what I had. A problem that has recently been remedied when I was employed for two and a half years as a part-time cashier still gave me enough to buy my own completely up to date computer that will last me the next five years on its own. Stick with me, I’m getting to the point. As a result of all of that, I tend to not be able to get games as they come out. Especially not games that turn into these huge franchises. A few games hold special places in my heart BECAUSE of the very fact that I was able to start with them. Mass Effect is one of those series. I started with it on the Xbox, probably borrowing it from a friend initially and playing it in bite-sized chunks before getting it used (likely bought for me like everything else was). The story starts out well. Your character (do I even really need to name them at this point?) is on the track to becoming a Spectre, a sort of special service agent for the entire alien government. During the screening process, another Spectre goes rogue and the entire game is building up a sort of power base against him while discovering a secret of the universe that may lead to the death of everyone in it. Damn. Ramped way the hell up, didn’t it? I suppose that’s fine, as studios don’t exactly expect all their games to shoot off the way they do sometimes. Mass Effect was good for its time. A fairly basic shooter with some RPG elements, in the older days where putting a point in your skills increased damage by 4%, and other things like that. It was incremental, but it had a cool idea based around a boring mechanic. Every few levels in the huge variety of skills you had at your disposal, you’d get a new ability or some kind of boost. Put enough points in “Fitness” and you’d unlock an ability called Immunity, an active ability that reduced taken damage by a flat rate for a few seconds. It’s interesting how the following two games basically dropped that idea, gave you the same 4-5 abilities (that vary per class), called it a day, and just built everything around those. It made the second game a certain kind of boring because every playthrough was effectively the same. You hotkey your main one or two attacks and just shoot stuff when it’s on cooldown. The second game’s story went sideways rather than forward, a point against its favor when looking back at the series as a whole. It continues, presumably a few months after the events of the first game and your ship gets shot out of space and Shepard literally dies immediately. In the introductory sequence establishes that you were picked up by the Cerberus organization and basically rebuilt like goddamn Robocop. I was expecting a “We have the technology!” type dialog but alas, we were deprived. Cerberus was an organization briefly mentioned in some tiny fetch quest in ME1 when you discover a small outpost had been husk-ified. To their credit, this definitely tied into what they would end up doing en masse in ME3 but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. They come to ME2 full force as Shepard is more or less forced to work with them when the mere association makes the alien council backpedal their support for Shepard, whom they presumed dead. As a result, you don’t see a lot of them in ME2. The whole story culminates in fighting a sort of human-based reaper that the collectors (who you later discover were reaper-possessed Protheans. Christ this series is weird) have been building by harvesting human colonies just on the edge of the government’s jurisdiction. Because of this they refuse to respond to the abductions and Shepard joins Cerberus to figure out this mystery and solve it. With bullets. Or whatever the hell comes out of guns in this universe. Something something mass effect fields. The entire game is basically the Dragon Age 2 problem all over again. It feels like it takes place in a single setting even though it doesn’t. It’s mostly padding. Half the game is loyalty missions as you run around to make sure your minions are happy enough with their lot in life, so they’re suicidal enough to do the suicide mission at the end but not suicidal enough to shoot themselves on the Normandy because they’re just not quite sure their father is still alive or not. I never liked this aspect of the game. Every where I turned, someone on my team was whining about something that barely mattered in the grand scheme of things. You could argue that settling their business gives them enough drive and morality to survive the mission at the end. If they didn’t have the morale, maybe they would be too sad to move out of the way of certain bullets. I get that, morale is a huge thing and I suffer from the gain and drain of it on competitive multiplayer games. I feel it, but it’s exhausting to try and manage it across a 20 to 40 hour game. Especially since the mechanics were dumbed down as I alluded to earlier. In the end, ME2 barely matters on a story standpoint and mostly served to update the graphics, systems, and mechanics from the first. To that end, they did fine. ME2 looks fine, even by today’s standards. In a more combat-oriented game, ME2 functions as a successor.  This brings up to ME3. It opens up about a full year after the events of the second game, where Shepard is being punished for their actions in the Arrival DLC of ME2. Never got around to doing that DLC? Tough shit, as they reference it throughout the entire first act of the game and even later when you meet a Batarian on his deathbed. I played through it maybe once and I still don’t really understand what happened or why it was my fault, but there you go. Basically, in the second scene the reapers attack and fucking finally, the goverment lets Shephard get their best murder on and fly out to kick some actual ass. This is even lampshaded by Legion (a Geth teammate you acquire in late-game ME2) who told their own people that the reapers were coming and were believed immediately and began prepping. “Must be nice”, Shepard says. Indeed.  The entire game is spent gathering war assets for the finale of the series. The more you have, the better it goes on a story standpoint. If you scrape for every asset you are capable of, there will be less loss of life. More soldiers on the field, more field assistance, and generally a slightly less bleak atmosphere (which is still pretty goddamn bleak). The mechanics are a crisper version of ME2′s. You still only have 4-5 main abilities to use per class but the leveling system is a bit more nuanced and more in-depth than before, which edged towards ME1′s style without being too stupidly gratuitous like adding 4% to damage. They saved that for actual gun modifications. The cover system has remained through the entire franchise (As it will continue in Andromeda) and it mostly serves to give you shield recharge while reloading your gun and not much else. Mass Effect 3 is probably my favorite of the entire franchise. Some are beholden to the first game as classic nostalgia, and I don’t know many who talk about 2 very much. However mostly decry the third game for its flawed ending and I chalk that up to a PR misunderstanding, or just bad wording on Bioware’s part. See, the sting mostly comes from when they claimed that “Oh the ending won’t be a simple A, B, C matter...” That’s exactly what it became. In the end you had the choice between destroying ALL synthetic life, taking control of the reapers for yourself and effectively fusing your consciousness with them, or if you gathered enough assets, full on synthesis. This basically fuses organic life with synthetic code, making everyone a sort of hybrid and thus rendering the Reaper’s flawed logic completely moot, and they fuck off into the void of space all over again. However for those who actually watched the endings, with the help of the extended cut, there’s a lot of nuances that that simple choice does not immediately seem apparent. In the extended cut you can see the multitude of your choices play out. Did you cure the genophage? You witness the rebirth of Tuchanka and see it get rebuilt in grand buildings with Krogan mothers celebrating their children. What did you do about the Geth/Quarian conflict? You see the results of that as well. Yes, the ending decision did boil down to an ABC choice but the ramifications of a few choices that you made since the first game still absolutely had an effect. A mass effect, if you will (please kill me). Ultimately I feel like there’s a lot more to do in ME3. I’ve played it for a few hundred hours, changing something big every time I do it. I take on a different lover, I switch sides and sabotage the genophage (which I will never ever do again because holy shit). I hop between Paragon and Renegade because it’s fun to watch the world change before my eyes as I decide to murder people that I would not otherwise have done. I do run out of things to do however as the level cap is 60, and if you’ve imported a ME2 save you’re probably already level 25-30 so it takes a single playthrough to max out. After that point, doing NG+’s only change a bonus power and maybe you can fiddle around with different weapon types and adjust playstyles. Which I did often. While I wrap this up with a sort of game-by-game summary, I want to give an honorable mention to ME3′s DLC, The Citadel. It’s often considered the ‘true’ ending to the series and is my personal headcanon post-final battle regardless of lives lost. It takes place on the Citadel (obviously) while most of your crew is on shore leave while the Normany gets cleaned up as it presumably does every time you dock anywhere across the franchise. Shepard’s life is never simple as it turns out there’s a plot against their life and must scramble to figure out another mystery. It’s an incredibly funny DLC with a ton of humor and mostly acts as a tone-shifting breather for the general “We’re all fucked” aura the game mostly gives you. It even ends on a “We’re all in this together” high note with most of your crew (And some from ME2 come back!) overlook a beautiful view while in the titular Citadel. So. We’ve reached the conclusion with my overarching thoughts on the franchise as a whole. It’s good. It’s an experience, and I highly recommend playing through it because there’s a lot to talk about. I’ll give a basic rundown. Mass Effect 1: Fine game, but has not aged well on a visual standpoint. Story is perfectly solid and moderately self-contained without originally relying on a whole franchise to carry it. RPG elements are excessive and each individual upgrade doesn’t feel like it does much until the higher levels. Mass Effect 2: Basically sidesteps its predecessor. Weak story that takes the plot nowhere but with crisper, actionized mechanics and less inventory menus to worry about. Mass Effect 3: Is the culmination of everything they learned from the last two games. More nuanced RPG systems that seem like a middleground between 1 and 2. Story comes to a solid conclusion, and I don’t agree with all the constant whining about how the endings ruined the entire game for some people. Grow up. I’m sure the game has some kind of anthology pack you can buy on sale at this point and I’d recommend giving it a go. If you’re a newcomer to the franchise, be prepared to set aside anywhere from 50 to 200 hours between the three games. If not, Andromeda takes place between the events of 2 and 3 while taking place in a completely different galaxy and will very likely only slightly reference the previous games. There’s the occasional nod, like you meet a sibling of the Turian female in Omega. Other little nods like that but it won’t be necessary to go through all three to enjoy the full experience of Andromeda. Can’t wait!

[prisma-does-things]

On Chaos and Order - A little think piece I wrote I guess.

In the center of a room, there was a small table and chair. This room was entirely gray, overlit, and with two people inside it. One sat down, the other stood. The one who stood rested a hand on the table and narrowed their eccentric eyes.

 “Repeat what I said…” She instructed

“What you said didn’t make any sense” The other responded, eyes sleepily drifting in the corner.

 The standing one patted the table and leaned in a bit closer, “Maybe I should remind you then…subject. We are currently in a war. Instead of bullets, this war is fought with information and control of the populous. In order to fight the war, the one I recruited you into, you need to keep what I tell you in mind…believe what I say…In what we think and you will believe you have won…”

 The other girl rolled her eyes and slumped her head on the table in defiance, “Oooh okay…so we’re going through this again huh—My name’s Tori, okay lab girl? T – O – R – I, Tori. Not subject…not guinea pig…Tori”

 The standing woman pulled back. Immediately her demeanor changed, and she knelt back down to eye level with the girl. Her hands cupped together, and she flashed out the softest smile. She was almost unnervingly perfect in her approach.

 “O-Of course! My mistake…Whatever it is you want me to call you I will…consider it your own little real-life character creator” She winked, “The other side won’t let you have that much though…they’ll just call you whatever they think is the right name…the truth as they call it”

 Tori looked up for a moment but slumped back into the desk and her thoughts. The woman stood back up again, letting the girl clap her feet against the floor in contemplation. This woman wasn’t wrong, not necessarily. Tori had experience with this other side, it’d be hard to get a majority of them to call her anything she wanted. It brought her down, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

“It’s that truth, that’s what we’re fighting against. Their truth isn’t reality, is it? You’re Tori whether they like it or not…right?”

 The woman had circled around to Tori’s side, who looked up at her with a slight smirk, “Aha…but the other side can say I’m X whether they like it or not…right?” She sneered

 “No…only you decide who you are right? If you’re Tori your Tori, you decided that”

 In response, the girl came to attention. She smiled back ever so slightly and rested her head on her hand now instead of curling up.

 “I hear it in the way you speak to me, Tori. You want their truth to change so dearly…ordinarily, this wouldn’t mean much, but you’re so adamant about it! You demand their perverted sense of reality change. There’s no room for compromise with you and I admire that. It’s like you’ll make do with what you have…but you never stop reaching for the stars”

 Tori traced the woman’s movements with her eyes, “Still don’t get your point here…”

 The standing woman looked down on Tori and tilted her head. Cracks folded their way into her skin, and she gave a faint chuckle,

 “In a way Tori, you the antithesis of what I’m fighting against. Not through your actions but through your mentality. You’ll never accept life’s downsides…always striving for perfection and total happiness even if you never get it…Because of that nothing's set in stone for you, even the simplest fact can change on a dime if it makes you happier.

 “That’s not brave at all actually…” Tori murmured under her breath, “When you put it like that it just sounds like your exposing my flaws”

 Tori gazed up and nearly jumped out her seat. The woman stood right in front of her. Still, and plastered with a fake smile. The thoughts she was putting in Tori’s head were all nonsense. Putting ideals in front of practicality, fighting against facts and concepts that were already established since humanity started.

 “E-Erm…so If I’m the opposite of whatever you’re fighting…t-then what are you fighting exactly?” Tori asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to carry along the  conversation.

 “Well…both of us like to fight for what could be instead of fighting for stagnation. If we want to change everything for the better, guess who we’d be up against” The woman signaled to Tori.

 The girl, clearly shaken, came to attention and gave her best answer, “People who…don't want things to change...?”

The standing woman stifled a giggle and shuffled into the wall that face Tori. She slid down, sitting but not quite, and flashed another odd smile back at the girl.

 “Gosh, you’re so smart Tori! People who accept things the way they are…people who never look any clearer. That’s who we’re trying to change for the better” She sighed, “But…Anyone who pushes that mindset onto others…hurt the dreams of others…they’re my enemy…they’re our enemy”

 Tori sat focused and watched intently. This woman had piqued her interest with her talking. Her eyes narrowed down to the table in her thoughts, she was curious about what she was going to say next.

 “Humanity wouldn’t be able to get past the stone age if it didn’t dream big if it didn’t dream free! Whatever preconceptions you have of practicality or reality are completely null if you actually surpass it. Not enough people realize that! Planes fly and cars drive, but no one would’ve thought that before it was done. Who would you be to deny yourself your dreams…to deny anyone their dreams! At least just to attempt…that’s what life’s all about”

 “Right!?” Tori blurted out. She quickly corrected her posture afterward, but the standing woman had gotten exactly what she wanted. A slight thump was made as the woman slid down to the floor. Her entire face was covered by her hair now.

“Live Free and die free. Don’t let a soul control you, truly. No regrets…We won’t settle for anything else, right?”

 Those words caused Tori to freeze suddenly. She tried to blink the feeling away, but the moment she did her heart sank. Her eyes were like weights, and her breathing was suddenly sporadic. While disorientated she heard an odd noise behind her, and she crashed out of her seat. Two hands grasped on her shoulders and hoisted her up. Through the small wisps of information, she could grab from her eyes, all Tori could make out was some odd gas and the glint of what looked to be a visor.

 “Hold them down!”

 “Cover their mouth until they’re out of there!”

 “They’re docile right now but we need to be ready in case something happens!”

 Various people in strange suits surrounded her. Two held her down near the floor while the other looked on, ready to keep her put. Tori could only lightly blink through the whole thing. She couldn’t quite keep her eyes open for very long without the gas forcing her to close them.

 “W-What’s…wh-what’s happen-“ Was all the girl could slur out

 “Target’s responding! Brain functions seem intact at a glance!”

 “Apologies. This must be rather…disorientating for you” One of the guards smiled behind her clear mask, “You were supposed to have a meeting with someone here, but there was a leak in one of our ventilation systems. You’ve been breathing in a rather powerful nerve agent for around an hour”

 “The gas kinda makes ya’ dream when you’re awake…weird how it works I know” Another commented, “Of course the Pres’ was supposed to meet up with you an hour ago, so I doubt this would’ve happened if it was for—”

 “Or what, Dallas?” Another voice said from behind all of them. Two of the three guards immediately came to attention, one of them being Dallas.

 “I really wish you’d all stop calling me president too, I really prefer Onia,” The president said while inspecting Tori, “I don’t have time to inspect every single subject that we find or rescue. If any of you’d have time I give you full permission to handle that”

 “E-Er…that is fine…But, O-onia…You aren’t wearing a suit. You’re aware of the breach, right?”

 Onia giggled a bit and sat down in the chair Tori did, “Yes, I am. Forgive me if I sound a bit dramatic but the gas can’t bring out anything that you don’t already know about yourself”

 Tori blindly glanced up at those words. In response, Onia smiled,

 “S-So…what do you wanna do now?” Dallas asked, “We can’t exactly start things back up again like this…do you just want us to ask the question or...?”

 “Hm—What do you mean? Despite our little setback, I think everything worked out perfectly…” Onia laughed and leaned in a little closer to Tori, “Well, Tori? Did your vision bring out anything in you?”

 Tori contemplated for a moment. Slowly she tried to stand with the help of the guards. Her breath was starting to get a bit raspy, so she slumped over. Everything she just heard from that woman was just her from a different perspective. But she was so…eccentric. So unlike her, it made her head spin in circles trying to figure it out.

 “I…I-I…”

Then again this ‘Onia’ had a point. This moment did bring out ‘something’ in her, something that must’ve been bottled up for years. Whatever it was it scared her. Even if it was a trick or something it still scared her. It felt so real and unusual in retrospect, but these people made her feel safe. Maybe it was just the fabric of the suits, but there was a comfort she found in them. Like she just walked into a cabin after trudging through a blizzard. After a few more deep breaths she took in a gulp and grinned ever so slightly,

 “Y-Yeah…I believe everything worked out just fine…”

[observationsofanislandgirl-blog]

In the midst of winter

It’s far from summer here in the valley today. A gentle, steady rain is falling outside and we’re all wrapped in winter jumpers. It’s dark as late afternoon although it’s only two o’clock. 

a couple of nights ago, I heard a car hit something outside. The car’s occupants promptly turned around and stopped to have a look, but after that came silence. The next day I saw a little wallaby in our garden, obviously injured around its back legs and alternating between hopping and dragging itself along the grass. Today, it was in our garden again, but closer to the house, lying semi beneath one of the rhododendron bushes and in a heartbreaking state. It had completely lost the use of its back legs and could only drag itself a tiny distance before flopping back down in exhaustion. Even worse, evil blowflies had already begun to attack it while it was still alive. We asked one of our neighbours for help and he fired a bullet through its head to end its suffering. We stood there for a minute, waiting for it to stop twitching, and then it was unceremonially heaved over the steep bank where our properties join. The house was filled with blowflies.

I dreamt I gave birth to a dead fish. Mum looked at it and said it was sickly, or infected, or some words along those lines. It had a horrible face with lifeless, half-closed eyes and it was about the length of my hand. I felt violated and scared and was still uneasy when I woke up. 

I have a lot of chores to do, and I’m getting through them slowly. Although I’m not tired anymore, motivation refuses to lend a hand and I feel like I’m doing everything in slow motion. We went for a quick visit to the local cider house last night, and then for a brief drive down to Cygnet to have a look at the folk festival. It was stunning along the river, still and glassy, as the light faded for the night. The festival itself wasn’t in full swing yet and an ominous mood lingered in the half-light as people scampered around and a surprising number of police patrolled. A few marquees and vans were set up, but a feeling of darkness and deadness hung in the air.

I’m cleaning up and cleaning out a lot of stuff. In boxes and nooks and crannies I find little trinkets and mementos of times gone by. Some friendships are still strong; I look at a pair of earrings one friend gave me for my birthday, which I wear whenever I feel like I need a bit of her strength with me. There’s a card that was given to me by another friend on New Year’s a while back, and it’s nothing special in itself but it reminds me of her smart, kind presence. Then there are gifts from friendships that have drifted, dissolved or shattered, and I can’t help but flood with mixed emotions when I see them. After months or even years of closeness, one day you suddenly realise that you’ve grown so distant that it’s like watching a ship disappear on the horizon, and you only recognise that little spot as what it is because you knew it close up. Even more hurtful are the memories of “I’ll always love you” “You’re my best friend” or “No matter what, I’ll always be there for you” that ultimately turn into nothing, sometimes with frightening swiftness. I’m proud of my current group of friends. They keep me sane and I treasure them and hope I can help them in any way, whatever happens in their lives. It doesn’t stop the pain that flares up when I’m reminded of those dead friendships, how one person who used to be your world is suddenly like a ghost. Although it’s hard, I’ve slowly started throwing out old objects that no longer hold any relevance, and hope that on some weird psychic level it is beneficial. It’s painful because it’s like casting aside the last remnants of my childhood. I falter when I come across some things from a friend who used to be my partner in crime in pretty much everything. She was always the younger, dominant one and I was always the older, placid one. We were performers who both loved the stage, and performed quite a bit together. We joked that we’d make a good Jekyll and Hyde. Later on, her constant need to be the star of the show got on my nerves, amongst other things, and her ego blew up as she grew into a 5″8, size 6, model-perfect physique and started to attract the attention of boys. She moved to the other end of the state for uni and we more or less disappeared in one another’s lives. She developed a nasty alcohol habit which contributed to a panic disorder that had been simmering beneath the surface for years. She gained twenty kilos and for the first time in her life understood the dysphoria that myself and the rest of our peers experienced years before. Her dreams of being an actor and a model slowly dissolved as real life hit her the way it hits us all, and I’ve got the feeling that she’s a gentler, humbler soul than she was when we drifted apart. At the same time, I’ve no motivation to get back in touch. I just want her to succeed, and be happy, and healthy, and never lose that streak of craziness that I fell in love with right at the start.

Digging even further into the past, I find a little bracelet that I was sure I’d thrown out long ago. It was the first week of uni and I ended up standing in a circle with a bunch of semi-familiar faces that I’d seen at law camp the week before. One was a boy with an odd accent and a ready laugh. Very quickly, we discovered that we both had a Filipino mum and there was a high-five and a few rapid words of poorly-pronounced Tagalog. We were only born a couple of weeks apart and we both were obsessed with Ancient Egypt. I was stoked. I loved his bear-like presence and funny way of describing people and things. Since he was quite sheltered and fairly religious, he was also the unfortunate target of many light pranks which in retrospect were probably a bit wrong. 

Far too quickly, however, those early sunny days clouded over. Our mutual friends noticed something was up before I did. I saw nothing wrong with guy/girl friendships, and I still don’t. I think it’s stupid to assume that just because you’re friends with the opposite gender, you’re planning on banging. There’s this thing called liking someone’s personality. Unfortunately, lack of communication on this front meant that we had increasingly different ideas of what was going on; we’d go to the movies and meet up for coffee or hang out at the library, and although for me it was just spending time with a mate, he’d firmly chalked it up in his head as a date. In what I realise now was grossly inappropriate and a violation of my own innocence at the time, he managed to get it out of me that fact that I was a virgin and constantly went on about how rare and special it was that I wasn’t one of those ‘slutty girls’ - I feel like driving around to his house and punching him when I think of that now. Eventually, it all got too much and I made it very clear that I only ever saw him as a friend, not even one molecule of my being thought of him as boyfriend material, and I was more than happy to stay friends but nothing more. 

Once again, my lack of experience backfired and I realise that I should have just cut contact completely. More or less overnight, he turned into a vile creature. He criticised every aspect of my personality; my looks, my academic achievements, my choices in life. He made every effort to make me feel awful. The old Filipino connection, which used to be celebrated and was a source of pride, he now ground into the dust and tried to say that Filipinos were dumb and embarrassing. He still stayed in contact, constantly dropping hints about himself that were somehow meant to suggest that he was a wonderful boyfriend and I had missed out, but it got more and more irritating until one night I was at a party, a few drinks in, and sent a massive long text telling him everything I disliked about him. After that, it was completely over and there was no more drama. I wasn’t really harmed by the experience at all, I think something like that had to happen to make me more aware of life and relationships, but the lessons I learned stayed in my brain. I made a promise to myself that if I were ever in that situation of finding myself “friendzoned” to use the modern parlance, I wouldn’t do a full 360 and turn into a monster simply because the other person isn’t as smitten. It blows my mind how violently someone’s thoughts can turn in a confused reaction to lack of reciprocation. Not loving someone back isn’t a personal flaw, it’s just a fact of life. If you think someone is amazing enough to fall in love with them, how come that all has to shatter when you know they don’t feel the same way? I suppose it’s a reaction to pain, and like many emotional reactions, it’s not a rational one. I still don’t understand it.

Life has sometimes been described as a tapestry, or a long thread, and in many ways it’s true. Some people come into your life and their thread weaves a blaze of colour into your tapestry, but it doesn’t last forever. Humans are a clingy species and we don’t take kindly to a beautiful coloured thread petering out into a new phase, which can sometimes feel dull in comparison.

It’s the middle of summer and my thoughts are full of death, and darkness, and winter. I’m not actually depressed - not properly - although a friend of mine is starting to get concerned after our conversations the past couple of weeks. There’s talk of ‘seeing someone’ and ‘getting help’, which I’ve already done with no benefit whatsoever. I’m not in danger. I simply need time. Life’s tapestry gets tangled up sometimes, and there’s nothing you can do except sigh, sit back and unravel the unruly threads so you can go on your way again. 

“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there's something stronger — something better, pushing right back.” - Albert Camus