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stusbunker · 4 years

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AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls for all her help on this series.

Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement.

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards.

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job.

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls.

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes.

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion.

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?"

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer.

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash.

“Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

“Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

“You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

“It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically.

“Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

“That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

“Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

“You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in.

Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

“Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

“Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot.

“You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry.

“Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly.

“Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel.

The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo.

“Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs.

“Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

“We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

“What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas’s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

“True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

“We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

“I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

“Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

“Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?”

“Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

“I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

“I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

“You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

“You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

“It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered.

Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

“Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

“Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

“And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

“We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

“I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw.

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in.

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

Tagging: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @fookinghelljensensthighs @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @crashdevlin @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary @itmighthavebeenintentional @thoughtslikeaminefield @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6 @cracksinthewalls @atc74

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octerminal · 4 years

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I’ve talked before about how Nadia being Earthborn is the central reason she’s renegade leaning, but I really want to get into it again because I’ve been listening to Hadestown a lot recently and that always makes me think of Nadia because the musical touches on how traumatizing poverty is. And also just because, well, I always want to talk about Nadia.

But before I can do that, I have to talk about a few other things first.

(This is going to be niche and also super self-indulgent, but it’s my blog, so who cares. Note that because of what both Hadestown and the Earthborn background entail, this is going to get slightly political. But again, it’s my blog, so who cares.)

Generally speaking, Mass Effect has an issue with downplaying trauma. Ashley, Tali, Garrus, and James all go through the traumatic experience of being sole (or almost sole) survivors. Tali goes through this twice, because the comics show that before she even met Shepard she lost the team she’d been traveling with. (And that’s not even counting the fact she also loses a chunk of her team on Freedom’s Progress. They use this trope with her a lot.) Liara loses her mother in the first game and she has almost no reaction. Shepard dies in the beginning of the second game and spends the rest joking about it, with very few opportunities to express anything but humor over the situation.

People respond to trauma differently, and the game is also told primarily from Shepard’s point of view, so consequently we only see what Shepard sees. All of these characters likely grieved in private, and they definitely do carry scars (literal and figurative) from what they’ve gone through. But I also think that Mass Effect likes making characters go through objectively traumatic things without fully considering how someone might act coming out of it. In fairness, that’s the fun of fanfic, and I also do think everyone on the Normandy has some degree of experience in compartmentalizing because they simply don’t have the time to sit down with their feelings. (A lot of them are also just averse to doing this.)

But exploring that trauma is what I’m interested in the most, and that’s how I approached Nadia. Earthborn is my favorite background for that reason. It’s not a single event that’s shaped their life thereafter, but a sustained stressful environment they endure for years and only escape once they sign up with the Alliance. And in that regard, Nadia rather sees it as trading one cage for another, but that’s neither here nor there.

Like, to go back to Hadestown (I swear I’m not going to write Hadestown meta on this blog), “When the Chips are Down” is one of my favorite numbers because it so accurately describes Nadia’s response to poverty. “How can you expect me to care about another person and put their wellbeing above my own, when doing that will result in my own death? How can you expect me to trust another person, when that could result in my own death? How are you going to lecture me on having no morals when if I had prioritized morality, I never would have survived?” (This is something I love bouncing off Kaidan, but I’ll get to that later.)

In other words, and this is an incredibly obvious thing to say, poverty is traumatizing and violent. It is an incredibly violent thing to put another human being through, to make them worry for their basic safety, to live their day to day in a constant limbo of uncertainty that permeates every facet of their life. Will you be able to eat today? Will you be able to sleep in a safe environment? Can you trust this person you’ve never met? Will trusting them endanger what little safety you’ve managed to achieve? How much money do you have? How long can you make that money last? Where will you be tomorrow? How about the day after?

This is something that leaves its mark on anyone it touches. It’s hard enough for an adult to plan for the future when they don’t have the luxury of knowing how they’ll even survive the week; when you’re a child, and that sort of stress is all that you’ve known, how do you even imagine a better life when you’ve known nothing different?

Before I get any further, I want to pause for a moment. Something that’s always been curious to me are the codex entries for Earth. Here’s a portion of ME1′s codex:

Here’s a portion of ME3′s codex:

(Written transcripts of the complete codex entries at the links.)

In both of them, they talk about how humanity is in a new golden age. A lot of pollution and common diseases have been eliminated. The colonies have brought in more resources. There's even been some correction to the damage early climate change caused. Then the Fire Nation—I mean, Reapers, attacked and ruined all of this. Except, take a closer look at ME1′s codex:

“While every human enjoys longer and better life than ever, the gap between rich and poor widens daily. [...] Less fortunate regions have not progressed beyond 20th century technology, and are often smog-choked, overpopulated slums.”

This seems incompatible with the idea of Earth being in a golden age. How can Earth be thriving if the class disparity is growing, not narrowing? How can Earth be thriving if entire swaths are still "smog-choked” and using centuries old outdated technology?

It’s not incompatible if the idea is that Earth has entered a golden age only for the ones who can afford it. And this is the reality Earthborn Shepards were raised in: the idea that their suffering is an unimportant, insignificant underbelly to an otherwise “prospering” homeworld.

So, resuming with that in mind: the way Nadia sees it is that to allow poverty to exist is an inherent societal failure that reflects on the government. This is why Nadia has no loyalty to the Alliance, and why she doesn’t trust them. This is why she subsequently has no loyalty to the Council, and why she doesn’t trust them, either. It doesn’t matter that the Alliance and the Council weren’t personally responsible for her childhood, because they’re still governments. She knows that governments will lie and exploit and allow for people like her to fall through the cracks if it will benefit them. She knows they will broadcast only the best of what they have to offer while conveniently pretending people like her don’t exist.

Like, personal politics aside, as shown above with the codex entries, this is just...canon. And Thane’s loyalty highlights poverty on the Citadel through Mouse and the concept of “duct rats,” so we know that it exists there, too. How the Council presumably feels about poverty on their station is outlined if you speak to Avina on the Citadel in the second game:

AVINA: Asari futurists believe poverty cannot be eliminated without “cornucopia” technology, which will create anything the user desires. Such technology is unknown outside science fiction.

Essentially: yeah, unfortunately, poverty exists on the station, but what can you do? Believing poverty is avoidable is actually utopian and therefore unrealistic, sorry!

But when you meet Anoleis on Noveria as Earthborn, he can literally tell you poverty doesn’t exist on Sur’Kesh. (And sure, he could be lying, and we have no proof either way. It doesn’t erase the fact that, at the very least, the existence of widespread poverty is something that even a corrupt and money embezzling salarian thinks is an easy jab.)

ANOLEIS: My homeworld is clean. Poverty is non-existent. If you take some perverse pride in that overheated, acid-washed slum, that is your business.

There’s nothing about the Alliance and poverty that I know of¹, which makes sense considering the main branch of the Alliance we see throughout the games is its military branch. There are still plenty of instances in the trilogy where the Alliance does exploit the vulnerable, or attempts to cover up their self-inflicted shortcomings. An obvious one is with Kaidan and Conatix; Kaidan literally tells you the Alliance is the one who “made mistakes.” That in their haste, they allowed a man to brutalize children for the sake of research. And when it backfired, they sealed the documents and pretended it never happened.

UNC: The Negotiation is one of my favorite ME1 missions for this reason, too—it highlights a part of the Alliance the series doesn’t really focus on otherwise. Darius tells you that the entire reason he’s operating in the region at all is because the Alliance is the one who set him up there.

DARIUS: You see this gun? This is your gun. Your military set me up here, and now it wants to pretend it doesn’t know me! But I know the truth. The Alliance needed me here! So treat me with the respect I deserve!

SHEPARD: You said we set you up. Did the Alliance give you weapons?

DARIUS: After the batarians were driven out of the Verge, the Alliance wanted to stabilize the region. I had the strongest syndicate in the area. They gave me the weapons and money I needed to take over.

After the mission, Hackett implies the entire reason he sent renegade Shepard to cover a diplomatic negotiation is because he expected and wanted them to kill Darius, because he was now more trouble than he was worth.

HACKETT: I’m sorry that you were unable to negotiate with Darius peacefully. His death is regrettable. Nevertheless, the resulting chaos will create a power vacuum that makes future raids upon our miners unlikely.

SHEPARD: You didn’t think I’d negotiate with him. You wanted me to kill him.

HACKETT: Sometimes extreme measures must be taken to ensure humanity’s safety. Or did you think you were the only one willing to break the rules to get the job done?

(Link, so you can watch the mission yourself.)

None of this is me saying the Council and the Alliance have no redeemable features whatsoever, or that they have never contributed positively to galactic wellbeing. It’s just me citing instances in canon that support why Nadia has the opinion she does of them, and why she’s not exactly incorrect in having them.

So, to loop this back around to Kaidan? As I said, he’s not a stranger to government-level negligence. But Kaidan had a much different reaction than Nadia did, and this is something that absolutely fascinates her once she finds out.

Before that, though: the two of them don’t really hit it off in the beginning—though they’re both still professional—and this is mainly due to Nadia being, well, Nadia. She is not a people person and she never tries to be, which consequently makes her off-putting to most people. On her end, she’s generally unimpressed and uninterested in the people around her. She sees a lot of them as puzzles to be solved and then to move on from, or threats to assess.² The rare times someone does pique her interest enough to act on it, she still prefers to not linger around for long. So, you know, just general unhealthy behavior.

So, Eden Prime is illuminating for them both. Like, on Kaidan’s end: Nadia comes off as callous. She doesn’t care about the colonists, she doesn’t care about Jenkins’ death. On Nadia’s end: Kaidan comes off as naive. How has he been a marine for this long and she has to tell him to suck it up after someone dies? (This is one of the reasons why she didn’t want to work with regular marines again; in my canon, Anderson had to needle her³ into accepting the Normandy position.)

But the truth of it is that the reason Nadia comes off as callous is because she’s thoroughly desensitized. Like, when you grow up poor, on the streets, and in a gang? You’re both witnessing and being put through a lot of traumatizing situations. Akuze, of course, only adds onto this. There’s this one dialogue option in the beginning of the second game when Miranda and Jacob are assessing Shepard’s memory, and while Nadia doesn’t take this option in canon, it is how she feels:

JACOB: You enlisted, and you survived a thresher maw attack that wiped out the rest of your team. Do you remember that?

SHEPARD: Yeah, I remember it. Everyone screaming, gunfire, blood everywhere. I was the only one focused on survival.

Paragon Shepard focuses entirely on the other marines: how they were their friends, how something like that can destroy you if you let it.

Renegade Shepard barely thinks of anyone else at all. There were fifty other marines on Akuze, and renegade Shepard thinks they survived simply because they were the only one focused on it. For Nadia, that’s because that’s what her entire life has already been until that point.

Look, there are a lot of different ways to play renegade; it runs a much larger gamut than paragon, in my opinion. Nadia is more of a neutral renegade. She’s not particularly bigoted, just dispassionate and apathetic⁴. She resorts to violence and intimidation because it’s the easiest way to control her surroundings, not because she thinks what she’s doing is particularly righteous⁵. This can get brought up in Samara’s loyalty when talking with Morinth:

MORINTH: Violence is the surest expression of power.

SHEPARD: Violence is a means to an end. Power is that end.

Like, Nadia is a person who’s had to live a life surrounded by violence, not because it’s what she initially chose, but because it was repeatedly inflicted on her. She didn’t have the luxury of nursing her compassion and generosity, or of prioritizing morality. Those things would’ve gotten her killed. What she focused on instead was survival: the best way to survive, the easiest way to survive, the way that consistently ensured her own safety. This meant violence, and in order to survive, she became very good at inflicting violence.

That’s what I meant when I said Nadia thinks she traded one cage for another: the Alliance wasn’t freedom in the truest sense; she’s still doing what she ultimately would’ve done if she had remained with the Reds⁶. She’s just doing it with government approval and a steadier paycheck. She knows she’s still being used, and it’s only who’s using her that’s changed. All that’s to say, she isn’t an N7 ranked infiltrator because she feels strongly about protecting Alliance space and dirtying her hands to do it. She’s an N7 ranked infiltrator because it’s simply what she’s good at.

One of my favorite renegade lines in the entire trilogy is during Thane’s loyalty because it perfectly highlights Nadia’s philosophy on her situation:

SHEPARD: Your father and I have killed a lot of people. You haven’t. There’s no reason you should start.

To Nadia, her life is what it is because of the circumstances she was raised in and the decisions she made in response to that. She doesn’t deflect blame for the sort of person she’s become; she holds herself the correct amount of responsible.

She kills people for the Alliance, she kills people for the Council, she kills people for Cerberus. Other Shepards might dress it up differently when death is unavoidable: “it’s a shame, but it was necessary,” said along with the appropriate amount of guilt. Or: they were a terrorist, they were a mercenary, they forced my hand. To Nadia, it’s all death, and there’s no inherent difference between killing someone “to protect humanity” (read: protect the Alliance’s interests) or killing someone “to protect the galaxy” (read: protect the Council’s interests) and simply killing someone in a situation paragon Shepards would deem unnecessary. And to Nadia, if you haven’t had to live a life like this—why start? You still have other options. Use them.

One thing I love about Hadestown is how it discusses the simple accessibility of being able to live your life, let alone live it virtuously. Like whether or not I agree with that, it’s an interesting thing to explore, and it gets brought up multiple times:

“When you’re hungry and there ain’t enough to go round / ain’t no length to which a girl won’t go / [...] and sometimes you think / you would do anything / just to fill your belly full of food”

“See how the vipers and vultures surround you / and they’ll take you down, they’ll pick you clean / if you stick around such a desperate scene / see, people get mean when the chips are down”

“Aim for the heart / shoot to kill / if you don’t do it, then the other one will / [...] nobody’s righteous / nobody’s proud / nobody’s innocent / now that the chips are down”

“Go ahead and lay the blame / talk of virtue / talk of sin / wouldn’t you have done the same? / in her shoes / in her skin / you can have your principles when you’ve got a belly full”

“I did what I had to do / that’s what they did too”

“Some flowers bloom / where the green grass grows / our praise is not for them / but the ones who bloom in the bitter snow”

Again, I’m not going to meta about Hadestown⁷ and the precise context for these verses are different in that canon (for starters, Eurydice never kills anyone), but the concept is similar: when you’re poor, you’re often driven to desperate measures to survive. Sometimes that means stepping over other people, or otherwise ignoring how your actions will affect them. Often, this is to your own detriment. And it’s really, really easy to cast judgment on the poor people driven to these decisions when you were never in their position. It’s really easy to just live when you’re not in a situation where you had to worry about your survival on a day-by-day basis.

I bring up Hadestown because it’s a nice conduit to explain Nadia’s issues. She’s not renegade because she thinks she’s on a crusade and anyone who gets in her way is acceptable collateral damage. She’s renegade because her survival depended on it, and as Sha’ira points out, it’s what has allowed her continual survival:

“I see your skin, tough as the scales of any turian. Unyielding. A wall between you and everyone else. But it protects you, makes you strong. That strength is what kept you alive when everyone else around you was dying. You alone survived. You will continue to survive.”

For her to survive her childhood, she had to step over other people and put herself first. This meant not allowing herself to get close to other people, and to not care about them beyond what they can give her to ensure her own survival.

And this is why Kaidan interests her. Kaidan’s response to brain camp wasn’t to minimize the importance of his morality, it was to double down on it. (Yes, partially to his own detriment, but that’s a different post.) His response wasn’t to distrust others, because after all, one of his defining characteristics is his compassion. It’s just that Kaidan��s inclined to troubleshoot everything, even his interactions with other people. He might be “once burned, twice shy” but he’s not going to be “once burned, byedon’tfollowmeI’mgoingtorelyonlyonmyselfforever.”

Like, he still wants to help...

SHEPARD: So why are you telling me this? Are you saying I’m cutting corners somewhere?

KAIDAN: I’m saying...it’s probably inevitable that we’ll have to. And when that happens, I want to help you. When someone important to you is up on a ledge, you help them. Keep them from mistakes better made by a kid.

SHEPARD: I’m a big girl, Alenko. I don’t need your help.

KAIDAN: I didn’t say you needed it, I said I’m offering it.⁸

...even though his desire to help (because he cares, because he thinks it’s the right thing to do) is precisely what led to the culmination of his trauma.

KAIDAN: He hurt Rahna. Broke her arm. She reached for a glass of water instead of pulling it biotically. She just wanted a drink without getting a nosebleed, you know? Like an idiot, I stood up. Didn’t know what I was gonna do...just, something.

He figures out what went wrong and tries to avoid repeating that mistake. He doesn’t just stop trying at all. He doesn’t lose his faith in having faith.

It’s antithetical to how Nadia responded to her own circumstances, and she can’t quite process the logic behind...why you would be this way. It’s not that she expects everyone to be like her. She’s seen a lot of different people traumatized, and consequently a lot of different ways people have reacted to trauma. It’s more like: “fool me once” is enough for Nadia. There are no second chances after that. She sees no point in ruminating over why something went wrong. Just accept that it did. (Or don’t, but never think about it, anyway.) She thinks living any other way is akin to, I don’t know, laying down in a snake pit right after one just bit you. Stupid, in other words.

(I should also clarify: this is mainly when it concerns people. She will troubleshoot when it comes to things like tech.)

Like, I’ve joked about this to a friend, but when Nadia first reads Kaidan’s file⁹ her impression is: alright, boy scout. Then she actually meets him and she thinks her assessment was more or less spot on, and she loses whatever vestiges of interest his file did manage to leave despite its otherwise boy-scouty-ness.

But the thing is, Kaidan isn’t naive. He chooses to have the faith he has in the Alliance despite what they’ve put him through. He’s acutely aware that the Alliance is capable of mistakes, because he’s been on the receiving end of it—yet he still wants to help and feels that as a biotic, the Alliance is his best avenue to do that:

KAIDAN: I’m not looking for “the dream.” I just want to do some good. See what’s out here.

KAIDAN: Commander, I thought real hard about how to use my talents. When I swore the oath to defend the Alliance, it wasn’t on a whim.

Like, Nadia thinks Kaidan giving his loyalty to the Alliance is a stupid reaction, yes (in fairness, Nadia thinks loyalty to organizations in general is stupid), but it still fascinates her precisely because Kaidan has some semblance of an idea of what the Alliance’s negligence can and has caused, and yet he still continues to put his faith in them. Kaidan hasn’t had the easiest life¹⁰, but instead of closing himself off, his reaction was to give the Alliance a second chance, to still place his faith in others, all because he still wanted to do some good.

It’s not what Nadia has done, and she can’t say she understands it, but realizing that Kaidan isn’t the ignorant boy scout she pegged him as goes a long way when it comes to the development of their relationship. (For instance: it allows the relationship to develop at all, lmao.) And the development of their relationship is one of the early domino pieces in a long line of dominoes that sets Nadia down a much healthier path.¹¹

¹ We do know, however, that the Alliance does offer to pay college/university tuition in exchange for serving with them in some capacity, thanks to conversations with Traynor and Ashley.

² You know that one Iron Bull banter with Cole where he talks about how one of the first things he does when he meets a new person is to figure out the best way to kill them? Yeah, that’s Nadia.

³ This is because Anderson’s brain is huge, and he understood no one can forever live life the way Nadia was living hers unless they’re a death seeker.

⁴ One of the most in character renegade lines in the trilogy is, once again, during Thane’s loyalty (a big reason why it’s one of my favorites: it’s really, really good Nadia content) when you choose the first renegade check during the interrogation. Shepard sounds so bored, so matter-of-fact. That’s the kind of renegade Nadia is.

⁵ This is probably worse to some people compared to “hard” renegade, since at least “hard” renegade can genuinely believe in what they’re doing, even if others consider it evil. Fortunately, I don’t care.

⁶ I don’t really think she killed anyone during her time with the Reds. (Or, if she did, it was only one person and it would’ve been near the end of her time with them.) I think they primarily used her for cybercrime. She still would’ve witnessed and been expected to participate in a lot of beatings, etc. And, as previously said, had she stayed with the Reds I do think this would’ve ultimately progressed into her killing for them, too.

⁷ Though if you enjoy criticisms of capitalism, an exploration into the traumatizing effects of poverty, and an ultimately hopeful message that meaningful change is possible even when everyone is conditioned to believe it’s not, I recommend giving it a listen. It’s easy to follow along through audio alone, but you can find a low quality bootleg pretty easily, too. (Be warned that some of the songs will differ from the official album recording, though.)

⁸ If the remaster brings better lighting to Kaidan’s little hub area and doesn’t hideously whitewash him like in ME3, this is absolutely one of the first things I’m going to gif because it’s one of my favorite moments in the entire romance.

⁹ Nadia reads the files of everyone she’s going to work with, not because she’s particularly interested in them, but because she wants to know what level of incompetency to expect.

¹⁰ Unrelatedly: ask me about my headcanon about how disgustingly rich Kaidan’s family is, and how much Nadia wants to kill him when she finds this out.

¹¹ This is absolutely not saying love, romantic or otherwise, cures her lifetime worth of unpacked trauma.

#ch: nadia shepard #this post brought to you by: my very desperate need #not to look at the fic i've been trying to work on all month #this post also brought to you by: my obsession with nadia and hadestown overlapping #this post also-also brought to you by: my desire to simply talk about hadestown #and finally #this post also-also-also brought to you by:#my desire to regain the ability to string sentences together again #(see point 1)#i'm going to go farm balloons in acnh now

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sluttyopinions · 4 years

Text

The Blunt Reality of Attack on Titan

August 4, 2020

Written by Samantha, Slutty Opinions

OPENING

People usually tend to associate anime and manga with being crazy over the top action packed experiences. Attack on Titan is a series full of exactly that. It’s a hugely popular franchise known for having insanely cool action and bombastic music. People flying around doing impossible feats and fighting fantastical enemies that are larger than life are common. Despite all this flash and excitement, the series never lets you forget the harsh reality of the world itself in a unique way, effectively separating it from many of its peers.

This grim reality is basically used to beat the audience over the head over and over, at times too liberally and too often as some would argue. I personally think how the original author of the manga that started it all, Hajime Isayama, entwines every aspect of his story with cynicism and grimness is one of the major reasons why I love the series, and I’m willing to bet it’s a big reason for a lot of fans whether they know it or not. Before I get into the details, I will say that I won’t be putting in any real spoilers of either the manga or the anime so if you’re just curious about what I may have to say, you can keep going. I’d also like to mention that I am more of a recent fan, but still a big one. I’ve seen the entire anime and have been trying to catch up on the source material, so my knowledge and opinions will be limited to that amount of content.

THE TITANS

For anyone unaware of the basic premise of Attack on Titan, the last remnant of the human race has been trapped by huge humanoid beasts in an expansive settlement surrounded by walls. It is humanity’s job to fight off these mindless monsters and survive behind the walls. The titans are a large part of what creates the identity of the series. Seems kind of obvious since it’s literally the title and all. The way these titans are integrated into the action and the story of the show is a large part of what prevents Attack on Titan from simply being another generic action series that ends up forgotten as a flavor of the month. It seems like I’m not giving the series enough credit because there is a LOT it does right otherwise such as pacing, story structure, characters, and so on that combine to make an incredible experience that has captivated many. However, I still stand by the idea that the titans help make the franchise feel truly one of a kind.

Everyone who’s ever seen the titans has probably noticed how grotesquely and uncannily they are designed. In the manga, the whole world and the way many things and people are drawn especially all have very creepy vibes to it all. While it would be a huge stretch to claim Attack on Titan is a horror manga, it’s common sense to acknowledge it’s strongly influenced by horror. The absolute sense of uncertainty and powerlessness these monsters present nearly every time they’re on screen is overpowering to both the characters that must deal with them and the audience as well.

Isayama creates a feeling of dread involving these beasts insanely effectively. Any encounter with them even if it is merely 1 or 2 of them can always lead to sudden death. There is never safety in the presence of the titans even for the most skilled. Their pure size and physical ability is nearly never downplayed. While the humans have their own special weapons and crazy abilities, the titans are hardly ever presented as mere battle fodder or mulch. Titans happen to be very good at killing people and the delivery of it all makes it feel believable. Keeping the antagonists intimidating and serious is very important for the overall feeling of Attack on Titan.

At times it can even feel like too much. The idea of any character dropping dead at any time can be very discouraging when you’re trying to get invested in a cast or just getting started. Sure that amount of pure “edge” in itself is appealing to a lot of people, but edge without purpose or substance makes for very bad entertainment in my eyes. It’s honestly in fact one of my pet peeves. I did not expect to like Attack on Titan for a long time due to this reputation it had for being brutal and random. Just not my style. When I actually gave it a shot however, I realized the writing is a lot more purposeful and I’d even say forgiving than I expected. While at times being an emotionally exhausting experience and definitely pessimistic in many ways, this series treats the terrible events that occur left and right with proper gravity and maturity.

THE NATURE OF WAR

Attack on Titan has a lot to say about a variety of subjects. It’s honestly much more subtle and intelligent than I even thought with my initial blind viewing of the anime. Reading the manga through the same events really gave me an appreciation for the thought and detail that goes into Isayama’s writing. The most obvious subject he focuses on is something that is probably less than subtle however and can be spotted quickly by anyone who has seen or read even a bit of the series.

That subject happens to be the horrors of war. On the surface the story seems to be just a simple story of man vs beast and it wouldn’t make much sense for it to have anything to say about war. While the circumstances involved are very fantasy-themed and at times ridiculous, it still at its heart is a narrative about war and how humans cope with it, both those on the front lines and those who watch from afar.

The grim and serious nature of the series is the way it is directly thanks to that theme. If life wasn’t always at risk, if it wasn’t treated as fragile, if death wasn’t respected and dwelled on and treated with the utmost permanence and seriousness, this theme would not work the way it does. Anything less runs the risk of just looking like glorification while merely saying the opposite. Admittedly there’s a lot of people who still somehow think Attack on Titan glorifies war but that’s a whole other subject. A very impactful and relevant part of the story is one early on where humanity wins a huge battle, yet no one bothers to celebrate merely because the overwhelming weight of the dead hangs heavier than any related relief ever could. This kind of grim and depressing, yet honest storytelling about war is very common throughout the plot.

What it means to be a soldier, the intricate overlap of society, media, government, and economics on war, the will and the reason to fight, the sanctity of human life and the nature of sacrifice and finding meaning in meaningless and constant death are all discussed often and in detail in Attack on Titan and the grim realness of everything that happens in the story and the overall feeling of being unsafe it conveys are deeply important to allowing these themes and discussions to work as well as they do.

PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOLOGY

The last major aspect of the story that I think benefits greatly from the unrestrained reality and brutality of the series is the very unique philosophy and psychology that Isayama presents. Most of the points and lessons the characters learn through the story are not pleasant ones. Everything the characters go through and the utter bleakness of Attack on Titan’s world shapes everyone’s worldviews. People take small steps and make concessions to have hope in this world. Optimism is present plenty, but the way the characters experience optimism is still rife with sacrifice and harsh undeniable truths.

This very unique perspective compared to a lot of similar media is refreshing in its own way and kept me questioning what I knew. You couldn’t often easily predict the conclusions characters would come to because they are not what you may have come to expect from other media. One major character, Erwin Smith, is a great example of the kind of ideas Attack on Titan will throw around. His character is labeled as a demon by some, but a hero by the same people as well. The necessity of pain and sacrifice underlies all progress and achievement and he knows it and so do many others, even if it’s hard to accept. Having to create guidelines bound by the rules and expectations of reality only makes them that much more applicable to real life and real war.

Despite all this, the series never feels outright preachy. Characters dwelling on the meaning of what’s happening to them is specific to which character and which circumstances. It doesn’t feel nearly like the author is writing an essay about the way things are or should be while using characters as mouthpieces and more just people in a hard situation trying to make meaning out of the meaningless suffering around them. Agreeing or disagreeing with any point as a reader or viewer isn’t portrayed as wrong in any case it’s more a vehicle for thought as well as phenomenal character building. Like real war, none of the questions presented have a genuine correct answer. The character Levi himself at some point in the story even admits that as a veteran in battle, he can never be truly sure of his choices.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

The amount of respect and purpose Attack on Titan treats its frequent suffering with is key to the experience as a whole. While a series with just good writing all around and good reasons for its fame, something that in my opinion makes it feel like something special and something that captivated me is the overall gravity of the story. Without being effective at intensity and discomfort as well as in dealing with said discomfort, the story just wouldn’t feel real. And if it doesn’t feel real, it won’t feel like it matters. This series matters quite a lot to myself and many others and I hope this is at least a glimpse as to why.

#attack on titan #psychology #article #manga #anime #hajime isayama #analysis #reality #no spoilers

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scripttorture · 5 years

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H! Do you know of any survivor accounts that focus on recovery? A big part of the story I'm writing happens after the main character is rescued from torture, and I want to make sure I don't downplay the effect it had on him and portray his recovery realistically. I'm mainly interested in a timeframe for reintegration/being able to go back to a "normal" life. If it's relevant, he is imprisoned and tortured (mostly beatings, stress positions, starvation and sleep deprivation) for about a month.

I’m sorry this one took so long. My best guess (and it is a guess) is somewhere in the range of 3-10 years. The rest of the answer goes into my reasoning, factors that typically effect recovery and things I’ve found helpful when I’m trying to write this sort of plot.

From the sounds of it I think the most useful thing would be someone’s diary, but I don’t think there is actually a published diary covering the period immediately after a survivor was released for months and years afterwards.

Survivor’s accounts often talk about recovery but- the thing is that isn’t usually why they make their experiences public so that often doesn’t end up being the focus.

Alleg talks about recovery but his aim in publishing his memoirs was demanding the French authorities stopped torturing people in Algeria. Similarly people like ‘Donny the Punk’ Donaldson and Nadia Murad Basee Taha talked about their experiences to highlight abuses that were taking place on a wide scale.

And that is often the reason people make their experiences public: to raise awareness, to draw attention, to demand change.

By its nature that kind of discussion tends to make recovery secondary.

It’s also worth noting that most survivors write about what happened to them a significant period of time after it actually happened. I believe there are some Inquisition era diaries that recount the period a victim was held for, but they’re rare and I think most of the authors were killed.

Monroe is interested in recovery but it’s recovery in a rather broader sense. It’s less about what people can do when and instead about the more nebulous idea of holding on to humanity and being able to have faith in other people. Her focus is war but this isn’t the sole focus of the book.

I do recommend her book, A Darkling Plain, generally. It’s most constructed of interviews her students took. Their instructions were to find someone who had lived through- Monroe calls it ‘political upheaval’, which sounds like a euphemism when she goes on to list war, genocide, violent revolution and oppressive regimes as her examples. The students were taught Institutional Review Board procedures and interviewed a survivor about their experience.

One of the things I think is… enlightening about the approach is that emphasises how close we all are to survivors. We all know someone even if we don’t know the details of what they lived through. I think it’s easy to forget that sometimes.

The interviews are very much led by the survivors. They’re generally looking back on experiences that happened years or decades ago. They go into how an experience changed the survivor, how it effected their outlook on life and whether/how they moved on.

I believe you’d find it helpful but I don’t think it necessarily answers the more precise questions that effect writing. When someone could return to a job, when someone might be ready for a relationship, how they’d interact in the community.

Based on modern accounts of the living conditions survivors find themselves in- I think the question of when people can comfortably do things is difficult because survivors are often put in a position where they’re either forced to do something before they’re comfortable with it or they’re actively prevented from doing it when they want to.

Let me try to explain that with an example. A lot of survivors now are in refugee camps. A person’s ability to find work will vary depending on the camp, the country and the individual’s legal status.

In some situations people in the camps are given very little support. In which case if the survivor doesn’t find some kind of work they might end up starving. In other situations a survivor’s immigration status might mean it’s illegal for them to work. Earning a wage can also be used as a reason to cut charitable or governmental support. Which can be a problem if the survivor is only capable of working occasionally and needs a steady source of income to keep them alive between the periods where they can work.

The environment these people are in can force them into work when it isn’t healthy for them or it can prevent them from working when having a job would help.

Environmental factors like these can obscure individual choice.

Generally I’d encourage you to think about environmental factors and how they could effect the character’s recovery. Survivor’s still have bills to pay and they might be surrounded by people who think working or going back to a mainstream school/university would be ‘good for them’.

Taking away environmental pressures there’s still a question of the character’s drive and motivation. A lot of people want to go back to doing things that are important to them. They want to recapture a sense of normality.

A character who feels very strongly about their job and is highly dedicated is more likely to be back at work quickly whether that is healthy for them or not. A medic who has built their identity around helping others is much more likely to be back at work after three months then someone who doesn’t identify with their job.

This does not necessarily mean the medic would be doing a good job or should be back at work. People do have a tendency to throw themselves back into tasks they identify strongly with.

With work there’s also, potentially, an aspect of physical recovery to consider. A character who has survived a suspension torture, with the resulting nerve damage, may not be able to go back to being a pianist. At least not without a considerable period of time adapting to their disability.

Even if a character is still able to do their job without adaptions and feels strongly about it they probably won’t be up to handling much stress or their previous workload. This does not necessarily stop people from trying.

Whether a character identifies strongly with their job or not they might feel they ‘should’ be doing some form of work. And work has the potential to be extremely helpful during a mental health crisis. It can provide routine, a reason to get up when that feels impossible. A point of stability and a place of relative safety.

Of course the flip side is it can also become a huge source of additional stress and pressure. Which it is depends on the job, the survivor, the working environment, the support (or not) of colleagues and the adaptions in place to support the survivor.

Reintegrating into the community is also complicated by factors that have very little to do with the survivor character or their symptoms.

A lot of communities reject survivors. Child soldiers and victims of rape (especially if it resulted in pregnancy) are often portrayed as traitors who have taken the ‘side’ of their abuser.

This can apply to torture survivors too. If the dominant culture sees torture as a way of obtaining accurate information (this isn’t possible) then the assumption is often that the survivor must have ‘betrayed’ the community. People also tend to assume that if someone was arrested or otherwise targetted for torture they must have been guilty of something.

If the survivor was subjected to ‘clean’ (non-scarring) tortures then- well then people usually assume that the survivor is lying and they weren’t tortured. From the sounds of things all the tortures your character survives are clean.

These factors often work in tandem and make it impossible for survivors to feel welcome in their community. That isolation and lack of support has a huge negative effect on recovery. And because it’s so rare that survivors don’t have to deal with these additional stressors it’s difficult to estimate what recovery looks like without them.

Anecdotally a lot of survivors report that support from their families and from religious institutions was incredibly important to them.

I feel like a lot of this comes down to what a ‘normal’ life means.

Because life for this character probably wouldn’t be quite like it was before. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t look normal.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be able to cope with the stress, pressure or uncertainty of his previous job. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t work. Perhaps he’d struggle to do things he previously enjoyed, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t find other hobbies.

I’m sorry that I can’t provide an accurate, statistically supported timeframe. I hope that I can describe a helpful way of approaching the problem as a writer-

It’s unlikely that the character will be able to fix everything at once. He might be able to get a ‘normal’ working routine before he has a ‘normal’ social life, for instance. Or vice versa. I’d suggest splitting up the different aspects of his life that have been effected and thinking about them separately.

You can categorise things in a way that makes the most sense for you. I’m outlining the way I would do it as an example, but if my categories don’t make sense for your story then add or remove things as you see fit.

I’d split it up into: Work, Social life, Family life, Romantic/Sexual relationships (if applicable), Communal life and Ritual (ie engagement with wider cultural activities, such as religious services, may pole dancing, getting pissed at the solstice or anything else that’s a big event).

I’d try to think about them separately and think about which area is the biggest priority for the character. I’m assuming ‘work’ comes first for the rest of the example because survivors still have bills to pay. I’m also assuming the character has enough support and stability to recover at his own pace; that the environment isn’t pressured and his environment isn’t adversely effecting his recovery.

So I would start with the symptoms and the way they manifest.

If he has anxiety or hypervigilance, what kind of situations set that off? For instance if his symptoms are triggered by crowds and loud noises then he might not be able to work in a popular night club any more.

If his ideas of ‘normal’ and his goals revolve around doing that particular job again then his recovery and returning to work would take longer. It could take several years. If his personality/experience means his goals are more flexible then he might be able to find another career that provides a less triggering environment and includes something he liked about his previous job. In that case he might be working regularly again in six months or so. Possibly less.

That could then provide enough stability/routine to let him find a balance in other areas of his life.

If he has insomnia then trying to fit his life into a regular 9-5 schedule might be more stressful then it’s worth. Finding work that lets him be flexible about when he comes in, working from home or part time or free lance- could mean a speedier return to something like ‘normal’.

Once I have some ideas about one aspect I’d take a look at the others and the wider plot. I’d think about whether there’s anything going on in the other categories, the plot or with the other characters that could impact on the survivor’s recovery.

When I’m looking across the different categories I’m also on the look out for ways I can use them to feed back into the plot.

So, if I stick with the night club example, perhaps this character has now started a job at a recording studio because this lets him indulge a passion for music with less crowds. And may be I can use that change in environment to introduce him to other characters. May be Drama at the night club is still effecting him through his social circle. May be working somewhere different means he’s unaware of the Drama and that aspect of the plot is going to take him by surprise.

Stress from the different categories will feed into how he’s doing overall and so will positive things like stability and support. Some of the aspects of the character’s life are likely to look ‘normal’ before others.

My best guess for reasonable time frames based on what I’ve read is something in the region of 3-10 years. But that’s taking everything into account across all those categories.

In the best possible circumstances your character could have one aspect of his life looking normal within a year, possibly even as short a time frame as six months. But that assumes an unusual level of support, financial independence, access to treatment and- the internal flexibility to accept a normal that’s distinct to their pre-torture experience. Which could mean a different job, or a different way of socialising or a different degree of engagement with the community.

Generally- there’s a lot lacking in the environment survivors find themselves in. There’s lack of support from family, friends and wider community, if not outright rejection. There’s a lack of accessible, specialist medical care. There’s a lack of safe housing and financial support.

My impression is that a period of years is closer to reality for most people. But we’re talking about fiction and you can choose to make your world better then the one we inhabit.

This kind of recovery isn’t linear. People do backtrack. Even people who are ‘better’ have bad days. Mostly- it’s about showing slow improvement over time and how frustrating slow improvement can be from the inside.

I hope that helps. :)

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#realkevinday #tw torture #writing victims #writing recovery #mental health #disability #recovery times #factors that help victims #factors that can make symptoms worse

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ohioguru03 · 5 years

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Times of Trial

I’ve been trying to piece together my thoughts and emotions over the last week, and I’m finally starting to get some clarity. Perhaps, like some of you, I didn’t pay much mind to the Corona Virus (Covid-19) when it was on foreign soil. Heck, when it first arrived in America my level of concern wasn’t real high. In my mind, I was telling myself this is another H1N1, SARS, Bird Flu, etc...and we will continue business as usual as the media tries its best to place fear in everyone.

It hit me today that my last statement is actually part of the problem. It’s like the little boy who cries wolf. The American people have been pawns in a game being played by political parties and the national media for so long it’s not crazy to think they wouldn’t believe this, downplay it, or not take it seriously. We finally have a real pandemic, a real threat to people in this country, and people are just now slowly coming to grips with this reality. Even now, there are naysayers despite both political sides telling you the same thing, highly intelligent doctors and scientists pleading with the people that this is the “real deal.” Again, I believe it can be traced back to American people not knowing what to believe or how much to believe.

My Story

Let me start with the selfish portion. On Tuesday, I found out the Ohio High School Athletic Association was going to limit spectators to the remainder of its events to just four tickets per player. However, the media would still be included. If you are unaware or don’t really care, the tournament was currently in Regional Play on the boy’s side and getting ready to start the State Tournament at St. John Arena on the girl’s portion. Tuesday’s Regional boys games were played in front of its normal crowds, while Wednesday it was just a few onlookers. However, by Thursday afternoon the tournament was postponed until further notice. I would be absolutely shocked if this ever resumes.

My Father and I have been attending the Boy’s State Tournament together since 1999 and I first went in 1997 with his first taking place in 1966. Selfishly, I was disappointed that this was not going to happen in 2020.

Then, the NCAA conference tournaments and NCAA Tournament were cancelled and it was bye-bye March Madness. I figured if I was going to be home at least I could watch college basketball. Still, at this point, not recognizing or realizing what was happening.

In the following days, schools were closed, church services were cancelled, restaurants and bars closed, and well basically anything where gatherings could take place. It went from 100 to 50 to 10. Now, it’s recommended to be isolated with only immediate family and to go out only when it’s a necessity.

My Emotions

I’ve run the gamut of emotions over the last week. I’m experiencing bouts of anger, depression, anxiousness, worry, fear, hope, and joy.

It started with fearing what might happen if I were come down with this then it went to what about my family (Dana and Hudson) and finally to My Parents and the elderly who they keep telling us are at the highest risk. I’ve found myself caught between the feelings of losing my usual busyness and soaking in every movement of my Wife and Son.

People are losing their jobs, income, and stability. Kids, without school, are having to watch their younger siblings and getting two quality meals have become much more difficult all while trying to course work.

This is the ultimate wakeup call that the control we believe we have is really an illusion. In reality, we have very little control.

My Response and My Hope

One thing that is ever apparent is just how much we take our freedoms for granted. I’m writing of the simplest things like being able to go out to the grocery store or having a conversation with someone at the bank, which we do daily without worry.

In addition, it’s even more evident that a lot of things we deem as important or prioritize on a daily basis don’t really amount to much. In a time, where the United State has basically come to a halt, we are reminded that the most important thing in this life are people and loving people.

My two favorite hobbies are sports and working out, and it was like God informing me that He “allows” me to do those things, and I can shut those down whenever I see fit, which leads me to my next thought.

I was talking to a buddy and he confirmed what I feel like God has been trying to tell me all week. Three people have confirmed this for me in a matter of 24 hours and they had no idea how or what God was speaking to me about this week. This is what has been confirmed multiple times. “Maybe this is God’s way of slowing us down and getting us to focus on what matters most.” Just another example of God taking something meant for harm and using it for good. Many times in the Bible, God had to go to extremes to get His people’s attention. Perhaps, this is one of those times. I certainly don’t have all the answers, but maybe this is something to seriously consider in this time of uncertainty. I believe God is ready and willing to speak to all of us in mighty ways over this time of shutdown. Let’s be available!

I’ve mentioned this before, and I think it’s worth saying again, which is our God is not asleep at the wheel. He is still on the throne and He is still in control, and nothing under the sun is happening that He wasn’t aware of. It’s okay to be fearful and scared, but turn it over to The Lord, and let Him give you His peace that surpasses all understanding. If you are struggling with fear, worry, or anxiety through this time of uncertainty, I encourage you to read these scriptures over-and-over again. Instead of continuing to scroll through social media, dive into God’s word and let it soak through you.

My Prayer:

Through all of this, I pray that this isn’t a meaningless trial. We, as a people, need to lean into what God is speaking to us as most of the constant noise and busyness has disappeared. There is a great time to just be alone with God and seek His face. Trials and tribulations mean very little if we aren’t growing and learning through them. So, let’s not miss it!

My ultimate prayer is that through all of this that more people will come know to know Jesus Christ, who is The Way, The Truth, and The Life, and NO ONE comes to The Father except through Him. I pray that thousands if not millions will surrender their lives over to Christ and find their hope in Jesus.

I’ve been without hope in my life, and I’m far from perfect now, but Jesus Christ saved a sinful man like me and He died for you as well. I’ve screwed up, messed up, and everything in between even since giving my life to The Lord, but the only difference is now I have hope in eternity with My Heavenly Father.

As Christians, may our light shine in this time of uncertainty and turmoil. In trials, may we respond in a way that shows we serve The King of Kings and our hope is not found on this Earth or anything it has to offer, but rather our Hope is in Jesus Christ.

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thedigitalpen · 5 years

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5 minute anime review: “Terra Formars”

What it’s about? In a sentence: it's a battle between humans and cockroaches on Mars! To offer some background - in the 21st century, mankind tries to terraform Mars using two things: a type of moss and cockroaches. The moss absorbs sunlight and purifies the atmosphere, and the cockroaches (which can live on moss) will spread the moss across the planet thereby changing the atmosphere and landscape. Fast forward 500 years and upon getting to Mars, the exploratory crew get more than they bargained for as they come to discover that while the moss has remained harmless, the cockroaches have not. In the 500 years since they were sent to Mars, they have mutated into a humanoid, bipedal form resembling "buff cavemen" (as one of the characters puts it) and maintain a very hostile attitude toward humans. Given the name "Terraformars", these roaches pose the biggest obstacle for mankind's plans to inhabit Mars. Additionally, mankind is also dealing with an unknown virus of alien origin which is killing people and the theory is that perhaps this is somehow connected to the Terraformars. Various expeditions are undertaken with crews of genetically modified humans (imbued with the traits of various animals for additional combat advantage) with the goal of discovering more about the Terraformars in order to destroy the virus, wipe the roaches out and take control of Mars. But things are never quite so simple and it's a battle for survival amidst death, betrayal and political maneuverings on both the alien planet and back home on Earth.

What I liked? If you enjoy a show like "Shingeki no Kyojin", you will most probably like this because it follows a rather similar formula, using the same elements to tell this story. The main focus is the human vs cockroach aspect (much like human vs titan) but there is a lot more to it as we learn about the history of this problem, the nations that have their own political investment in solving it (or not solving it?), all while our main characters do their best to survive against the ever-evolving cockroaches. It's a layered approach to storytelling, which is executed well and remains relatively uncomplicated so that it doesn't lose the audience along the way. I personally love SnK so this show was right up my alley because it also involves a bit of sci-fi twist with the genetic modification of the characters and learning about each of their abilities. Speaking of characters, the show gives detailed backstories for quite a few of the characters, covering what they were up to before joining the expedition and their reasons/ motivations for joining and going on this mission. I like this because, while there is a main character as our pivot, it's interesting to learn about the other characters you encounter. It creates a connection to them and gets you invested in the story as a whole. The uncertainty of the outcomes of missions/battles makes the show rather intense because, much like SnK where unexpected character deaths are rife, Terra Formars has that same sense of "no character is safe" trend, so waiting to see whether someone makes it out alive has a whole new level of tension added to it. The battles themselves are also rather cool - especially in the first season where they don't hold back on the graphic depiction of the special moves and character deaths. The first season's animation had a dark feel to it (and not just because the battle was at night) which gave the show a real sense of gravitas, leaving you to feel the feels long after you've stopped watching the show. To its credit, this show used the two seasons (and a couple of OVAs) it got to its advantage - spending enough time to flesh out the story, cover the backstories and really open up this universe for us. It doesn't try to cover too much and keeps things mission-focussed. And that season 2 ending definitely made me want to go check what happens next in the manga.

What I liked a little less? A small, almost non-issue was probably the inclusion of a lot of one-sided infatuation/love from a few of the characters. Nothing against love stories, but it can feel a little contrived - especially since most of these feelings are brought to light during character deaths, making it seem like a cheap trick to enhance the moment, increase the drama and give it more impact. My biggest gripe, however, is a technical one and it's the change in animation that came with the second season. It could be that because the second season was co-produced with another company that the animation style was made to change. And while it isn't a bad animation by any means, it does feel rather more generic than the first season. It's as though the genres switched from seinen to shounen, and that also means the loss of the graphic detail and badass/ coolness factor during the battles. While there are deaths in the second season, it's not quite as gruesome and the backstories lose a bit of that sense of emotional weight that comes with the issues/traumas that these characters have dealt with in their lives. There’s also addition of obvious humour/gags in the second season, which are more downplayed in the first. It's not all bad news though because the story remains as compelling and tense as ever. I didn't have any trouble marathoning through the second season, just as quickly as the first.

Could, should or wouldn’t watch? This is a "should watch" for me. Like I said before, if you like shows with a similar approach as SnK, then you may like this one. I'll admit that going into this show, I had no idea what it was about and when I found out that it was about cockroaches on Mars I literally laughed out loud for a moment. But the more I watched it, the more invested I became and after a short while, I was just consuming one episode after another because it was so good! This is a seinen show with the right amount of action and human drama to keep things in balance. It also has a bit of mystery and political intrigue, and offers food for thought, especially regarding evolution (of ourselves as well as the roaches), and the plan for mankind to one day, potentially, move to Mars. If you're in the mood for this type of seinen show, I recommend that you put this on your "to watch" list.

#terra formars #terraformars #anime #5 minute review #should watch #adolf has a special place in my heart okay #the man deserved better

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lightsandlostbells · 6 years

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Skam season 3, episode 5 reaction (1/2)

I don’t tend to think of Skam in episodes so much as clips, but this is easily one of the strongest overall episodes of the series, and it feels like a turning point in the season in terms of complexity. Watching it in real time was an emotional roller coaster. We also have the script for this episode with some of Julie’s comments so we can compare the two. I split this reaction into two parts because of the length, sorry if that’s annoying. It’s one of the longer episodes of the season. Second half will be up in a day or so.

SEASON THREE, EPISODE 5 - “At the same time in a completely different place”

Clip 1 - The softest scene you will see in your entire life

Lordag 15:15 for anyone keeping track

I mentioned in my episode 4 recap that the pool scene was the first scene I got to see in real time. After that first kiss, I was dying to know what came next for Isak and Even. I thought it was likely that we’d get more relationship rockiness, because that’s usually what happens in TV shows, right? Isak was going to freak out, Even might run back to his girlfriend, and maybe they’d pretend it didn’t happen and it would get all awkward between them. Because that’s what I expect from most TV shows, more dramaaaa.

Instead, I slept in the day after the pool scene, woke up, immediately checked the Skam website to watch the pool scene again, and instead saw that there was a new clip. This clip, which is one of the most iconic moments in all of Skam, and which should be prescribed by doctors as a means of lowering blood pressure.

I mean this is the image that greeted me when I opened the Skam website that day. Julie Andem did a detox on my soul with this scene.

This scene is so special. It’s different thinking about it now because Skam went on to bless us with tons of Evak physical affection, but at the time I was stunned, because gay couples in media rarely get these types of blatantly romantic, lovey-dovey scenes. I’m pretty sure this clip is a huge part of why Skam suddenly took off internationally, because people saw gifs of this scene and had a similar reaction to all the cuddling. What the hell is that? I need to check it out.

Frankly, I’d say romantic couples in media, regardless of orientation, rarely get these types of introspective, slow-paced scenes where the characters can just breathe and be together as long as Isak and Even do here. Typically if a TV show gives us a scene resembling this one, there’s some other reason it’s there; the scene is there to facilitate the plot, or usher in some drama, or carry some exposition. But rarely do we see couples just lying together and talking in this intimate way, with room for pauses, room for silence, room for the characters to just touch and look at each other. And we sure as hell don’t get them between LGBT pairings that often.

We saw long cuddle scenes with Noora and William last season, and a few with Jonas and Eva in S1, and I’m so glad that Julie didn’t have any reservations about showing Isak and Even in similar positions. Think of other shows you’ve seen with canon gay ships. A lot of them contain noticeable double standards as to the level of physical intimacy and affection the gay ships show versus the canon het ships. Sometimes the het couples can get full-on sex scenes while the gay couples can barely kiss. Granted, much of that discrepancy probably comes from people at the top, and showrunners may have to fight just to include gay characters in the first place if the network executives are cowards, let alone show them being affectionate. So I’m aware that Skam is in a unique position to depict these types of scenes between two boys. The format and distribution of the show also allows for the creative freedom to have these long quiet scenes without needing to account for commercial breaks or time restrictions or anything like that. But damn, this simple scene ends up feeling downright revolutionary because of how it commits to show these two boys falling in love with each other, without compromise.

The song choice of “I’m Not in Love” is perfect. I know some people took it literally (thinking that one or both of the boys were not in love and this wasn’t a very deep relationship, or it was evidence that Even was just messing around with Isak for fun rather than real feelings) (yes, I remember reading this) but the whole premise behind “I’m Not in Love” is that the speaker is in love, and all of the protestations he’s not in love are flimsy as hell. Oh, I call you and come to see you but don’t read too much into it. Oh, I have your picture on my wall but it’s just because it covers up a stain. NBD.

Here’s an explanation of the story behind the song from Wikipedia:

(Eric) Stewart came up with the idea for the song after his wife, to whom he had been married for eight years at that point, asked him why he didn't say "I love you" more often to her. Stewart said, "I had this crazy idea in my mind that repeating those words would somehow degrade the meaning, so I told her, 'Well, if I say every day "I love you, darling, I love you, blah, blah, blah", it's not gonna mean anything eventually'. That statement led me to try to figure out another way of saying it, and the result was that I chose to say 'I'm not in love with you', while subtly giving all the reasons throughout the song why I could never let go of this relationship."

Stewart’s description is a perfect fit for Skam’s depiction of Isak and Even’s relationship. I can name a ton of TV shows where the characters rush into saying “I love you” and throw it around in every scene even though the sentiment feels unearned. The words are just hollow and used as a shorthand for writers to say the characters feel deeply for each other, without coming up with creative, emotionally resonant ways to show these feelings of love. Skam is actually pretty restrained on having Isak and Even make a lot of dramatic statements of their feelings to each other. Instead of going for overwritten or showy speeches, Julie writes shorter lines that leave more to subtext and fit the context of the situation and characters better. There’s never a conventional “I love you” scene between Isak and Even and yet I didn’t need it because their actions constantly showed how much they loved each other.

And the lyrics can reflect Isak’s attitude at this point. He has feelings for Even but is still in the closet, still dealing with internalized homophobia. There’s still uncertainty around this relationship and where it’s headed. You can take “I’m Not in Love” as a layer of protection, downplaying this relationship to others and maybe to himself, but of course any protests from Isak are going to be as weak as the singer’s. Dude. We can see the way you’re looking at each other.

Onto this montage of smoking, kissing, and cuddling. Dreamy sigh. Isn’t this how everyone wants to imagine being in love? Comfort and safety mixed with passion and affection. This is the exploratory period, where you’re with a new person, and you can see Isak and Even testing out new kisses, new cuddles, new affectionate gestures. They’re enamored with each other and there’s still so much more to learn about each other.

Even’s smile when Isak initiates the nose rub = murder me. I still think Isak did it to make the gesture theirs after seeing Even do it to Sonja at the neon pre-drink. Thinking about it from a directing standpoint, I am dying to know if Julie was giving the actors instructions on things to try or if they were told to improv and Tarjei did the nose rub and caught Henrik by surprise, basically how this little detail came to be. Because it’s not in the script and yet it became such an iconic Evak gesture, it was incorporated throughout their scenes as a way they not only express affection but show comfort and solidarity with each other. It is theirs.

Evak having certain gestures they come back to, such as the nose rub, makes this relationship seem more real and textured. Their relationship is very specific, with its own history and inside jokes and consistencies throughout the series, and it’s one reason why it’s stuck with me so long.

The timeline is pretty ambiguous in this montage. We know that they obviously spent Saturday together, but this montage doesn’t designate a clear linear path, it jumps between their different positions and activities - smoking, laughing, making out, looking into each other’s eyes. There are also parts in some of the editing where we have Even or Isak talking but their mouths aren’t moving, giving this scene a dreamy feel. It’s almost like they’re outside of time, in their little bubble. “Can I stay in here with you forever?” seems like a real possibility.

In part of the opening montage you can see the same kiss from the end of the clip, which could just be Julie reusing footage for whatever reason, but I like it because it’s almost like a loop between the start and end of the clip. Time is irrelevant in their bubble. Everything that’s going to happen, will happen, and it’s happening now.

Tarjei and Henrik deserve so much praise for their acting in this scene. Not just because there’s no skittishness or #nohomo bullshit that you sometimes see from actors playing gay couples, but because they sell the utter adoration between their characters better than a lot of A-listers, honestly. The looks on their faces … wow. So much fond! So much love!

Henrik does a lot of fantastic physical acting throughout this scene, because Even never lets up touching Isak - tracing or rubbing his back, stroking his face. Expressing his feelings through touch. Can you imagine how much Isak is soaking all of this up?

Speaking of Isak, this is by far the softest, gentlest, and happiest we have seen Isak in this season so far, and the whole series to this point. He’s like a completely different person in this scene. Tarjei really lets down Isak’s walls.

Even is wearing the traveling Jesus shirt which is appropriate after a scene where he just played God. You can imagine Isak throwing it to him for that reason. Not because of complex Biblical symbolism and rebirth metaphors, more to be a little shit. Hey God, I found a shirt with your son on it!

I love how Even looks super charmed by Isak blowing smoke in his face.

By the way, I know I’ve said this before somewhere, but this scene always makes me think of a commercial for fabric softener, with that nice soapy clean clothes smell. In reality, though, Isak’s bedroom would have smelled like weed, boy farts, unwashed sheets, and possibly chlorine from the pool.

Eternal mysteries: What is the Nicolas Cage movie where he doesn’t overact??? Nicolas Cage has made some respectable movies, it’s not all The Wicker Man and the Kirk Cameron-less Left Behind, but I don’t know if he’s ever been subtle. What’s a movie that Isak would have seen and Even wouldn’t? Unless they have differing opinions on overacting. This is going to bug me for eternity. (On a non-Skam note: I fell into a Wikipedia hole and while I knew Nicolas Cage was related to the Coppolas, I didn’t know he was a cousin of Jason Schwartzman?)

On a similar note, this doesn’t bother me too much since I’m too enchanted with their acting and the writing, but yeah, that one strand of hair just chillin’ under Tarjei’s chin in this scene… once you see it, you can’t un-notice it. (There’s also the mic that’s visible in the opening montage.)

This scene has no pressing plot, no obvious “point” in terms of communicating exposition or advancing the storyline, but it turns out to be vitally important as a whole bunch of motifs and themes are established, we get insight into both characters, and there’s a ton of foreshadowing.

“I actually think life is like a movie. That you can be the director of your own life.” As we know, Even has a cinematic mind and sometimes takes his advice very literally, aka staging underwater kisses in random people’s houses. But it’s interesting that Even feels this way since bipolar disorder would seem to be something that makes him feel less in control. I feel like he tries to live this way deliberately as a way to handle his mental illness.

Isak being impressed by infinity, thinking about the fact of being insignificant compared to all the universes out there, though - that’s kind of surprising! Even wants to maintain some control over his life, perhaps due to having this mental illness that makes him feel out of control, but Isak just thinks out there, everything is happening to him, and he’s OK with that. He’s more fascinated by the idea and not like ... struck down with existential dread.

What’s lovely is that when Isak disagrees with Even’s point, Even is eager to hear what Isak says. They both look happy to be having debates like this. They can disagree on certain topics but it’s OK because they love to hear the other’s POV. This is such a great foundation for a relationship, that they’re not all about physical attraction and desire, but they genuinely enjoy having conversations with each other about big topics.

Have we heard Isak talk at all about Big Ideas like this, with anyone else? I can certainly believe he’s had conversations like this with Jonas, but there’s something really intimate about putting aside all the mundane topics of daily conversation and diving into the bigger, more abstract discussions, things that really reveal a lot about who you are as a person and how you process the world.

And I mean, yes, I know that they’re both stoned right now and that’s helping Isak to open up. Still!

Oh my God, do I love, LOVE, the shot of Even and Isak lying overhead as Isak says, “There’s probably a parallel universe where an Isak and an Even are lying like this…” Because that’s exactly what it is in that moment! A parallel universe! Well, maybe. You can also interpret it as a non-linear moment, since we have Isak’s voiceover (where he was clearly just talking on screen) over a shot where Isak’s mouth clearly is not moving, to a cut back to Isak talking. But I also like the idea that this shot of Isak and Even lying silently together, Even tracing Isak’s back, is from one of those parallel universes that Isak is referring to, and that’s what the AU Isak and Even are doing right at that moment.

Also, nice editing from Julie, because Even moves his head to look directly at Isak as a way to link the two shots and it’s happening in both universes, Isak talking and Isak not talking.

Plus apart from the time/parallel universe stuff, it’s honestly just a beautiful shot, where both Isak and Even are deep in contemplation, and you can imagine all that is on their minds, but they’re not voicing it at this time. Just Even rubbing Isak’s back. Just them lying together.

Both Isak and Even memorized this entire conversation, because it was that important to them, and ended up storing a whole bunch of its references in the Evak museum. Parallel universes, yellow curtains, the boy who couldn’t hold his breath underwater...

Uhhh, that soft little noise Even makes after talking about the yellow curtains? End me.

Even is pretty vulnerable during this part of the conversation, giving his thoughts on parallel universes. I guess this is heading into personal territory, but this is the scene where I first started to think Even might have depression, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the same for a lot of other viewers. Not just the bit where Even says the only way to escape your thoughts is by dying, though Even saying that was a huge red flag and made me think Even was suicidal, or had attempted suicide in the past. But also when he mentions how thinking about all the different universes feels lonely. And that might be a reach because surely non-depressed people can feel similarly overwhelmed by the idea of being small and insignificant in an infinite number of universes, but it just pinged me (as someone with depression) as immediately recognizable. I can’t even put it into words, it just resonated in an unsettling way. Being alone, with just you and your thoughts, is terrifying when you have depression, because your mind starts to come up with some scary things.

I think that also accounts for why Isak might not understand why Even is freaked out by the idea. While Isak’s mental health has suffered as a result of his family life and his internalized homophobia - the insomnia is a noticeable effect, for one - I don’t think he’s been suicidal, and I don’t think, even with all his stress and inner struggles, that he realizes how bad one’s thoughts can get.

The only time the camera strays from Isak and Even in bed, during this entire scene of almost seven minutes, is when Eskild knocks and talks to Isak through the door. Because that’s an interruption of the bubble. Eskild is the outside world at this point, Eskild is the reminder that people do exist beside Isak and Even. Bless Eskild, but he’s an intruder here. His sudden presence also causes Isak to come up with a lie, saying that Even’s shoes are Jonas’ shoes, reverting to his habit of lying because he’s not ready to state the truth.

By the way, if you were watching in real time and were in the fandom at the time, you’ll remember that there was a theory that actually it was Jonas talking to Isak through the door, and therefore he would catch on to those not being his shoes. Which seems kind of silly now, because Jonas and Eskild don’t sound the same, but fandom sure loved its wild theories. I miss the bonkers shit people would come up with when you’re getting canon in 3-4 minutes increments day by day and are in constant speculation mode.

I love how Even is so charmed by Isak being a brat to Eskild. And that he seems happy at Eskild’s mention of Isak staying in his room all day (because hell yeah, why not, stay in here with me, Isak). And his tightening grip on Isak’s shoulder? My heart.

Also, Even’s gaze is more on Isak’s reactions to Eskild than looking to the door toward the voice, like … he is so enamored of everything Isak does and can barely take his eyes away. (That’s the boy he’s noticed since the first day of school!!! And he’s here, he’s finally here!!)

Isak complaining that Eskild is a babysitter is totally borrowed from what Even said the night before, when he told Sonja to stop monitoring him. Isak absolutely absorbs a lot of what Even says and does and ends up imitating him.

So we finally get the explanation for how Isak met Eskild and came to live in the flat in this scene. I wasn’t watching from S2 but this would have been a dangling topic since the S2 finale, at least.

In the script it’s mentioned specifically that Isak had a fight with his father before going out and getting drunk, which breaks my heart. Isak’s dad really let all of them down. What kind of a father leaves his teenage son alone with a mentally ill mother he is not prepared to care for? All because the dad couldn’t deal with the mom’s mental illness? What the fuck is a 16/17-year-old supposed to do? Not to get too personal again, but I have been a caretaker to a mentally ill parent (and one who had some drastic issues but whose sense of reality mostly wasn’t impaired like with Isak’s mother) and I could not imagine doing it without the help of my other parent. It’s just outrageously selfish to bail like that.

Isak not being able to remember whether Eskild tried to pick him up is … alarming. And sad. And it’s very good that Eskild found him when he was that out of it instead of someone else with less noble intentions.

Looking at Even’s POV, I doubt he thinks there’s anything going on between Isak and Eskild but Isak living on his own with another gay man, a non-relative, is a bag of unanswered questions, such as - is Isak out to anyone? Where’s Isak’s family? Was he kicked out for being gay? Like this is his way of prodding out some sensitive information. Later when he asks how Isak’s parents will react if they start dating, you can imagine this information is on his mind.

Again, Even’s eyes never leave Isak’s face during this conversation, and he keeps rubbing his thumb along Isak’s shoulder. And he doesn’t ask too many questions, he just lets Isak talk. Isak opens up more than we’ve seen him do in this season so far, but when stuff starts to get too heavy then he plays it off and Even allows it and doesn’t push.

As cute as it is, there’s something a little sad about Isak saying that Even can have his story and make a movie out of it? Like he’s clearly trying to play down how much it really affects him. Oh Even, just turn my sad family history into one of your tragic films, ha ha except not really.

“I am going to make a movie about you!” AHHHHHHHH. So glad we got our S4 YouTube masterpiece because when hearing this line mid-s3 I totally figured it would be foreshadowing and Even would like, confess some feelings to Isak via stop motion Barbie adventures. And I mean, the rest of S3 is so amazing that I didn’t miss not getting any Ken doll smooching, but I’m glad Julie came through with the promised cinematic ode to Isak Valtersen.

When Even’s phone starts ringing they both keep joking and laughing until they can no longer ignore it. Another intrusion to the bubble.

Even stroking back Isak’s hair and pressing his face to Isak’s forehead - some A+ intimacy.

I have to single out their acting again. Henrik is fantastic with all the touches and affection he’s giving, and Tarjei does such a lovely job with the slight shyness and sweetness from Isak. Like this is all new to Isak! It’s a ton of romantic attention and affection from a boy! You can see his curiosity and exploration. Then when they have to deal with the reality of what’s waiting for them outside the bubble, Even is so blatantly unhappy and Isak is just deflating in his subdued way. The actors manage these emotions so well.

Man, you can see how quietly happy Isak gets when Even asks to stay in there with him forever. He’s almost glowing. And it makes sense that this, specifically, is what Even asks him, because that’s what they want at the moment - not just to be together, but to stay inside the bubble away from all outside complications.

This final kiss as we close out the clip is just. The sweetest thing ever. With Isak lifting up his head to ask for it and Even kissing Isak’s forehead and cheek and their hands on the other’s face and neck. Imagine Isak’s growing confidence in asking for the kiss and Even’s generosity in giving Isak more than what he asks.

I don’t necessarily put a timeline as to when these two definitely fell in love (as opposed to liking each other/having a crush/whatever), or realized that they were in love, but tbh this feels like when it might have been it for Even. The act of breaking up with Sonja and asking Isak to be his boyfriend had to be huge for Even, in light of everything he had been through, and realizing he was in love with Isak here was big enough to take a chance, end his stifling but stable relationship, and pursue something new and unknown.

You know when you listen to a song you enjoy so much that you start to hear it and you don’t really love it anymore, it’s more like the memory of loving it? Or a book you read so many times that it’s more that you remember the emotions it used to provoke in you, rather than feeling them in the moment? Sometimes I fear that season three of Skam will get worn out for me like that. After all, I’ve seen it who knows how many times by now, and the show ended more than a year ago - eventually watching it will just be about the memories of how it felt to watch the first time, and not feeling scenes in themselves, right?

Watching this scene again still feels like the first time.

Clip 2 - Morning after

There has been discussion over whether Isak and Even went further than makeouts during their cozy weekend and I’m 95% in the camp that they did not. I mean, by all means, headcanon otherwise, but I don’t think sex happened at this point for the following reasons:

Narratively it would have been a huge deal, both in the progress of their relationship and of Isak’s personal development, and I tend to think Julie would have shown it or hinted at it more strongly if anything sexual had happened. It seems too important not to make more obvious. If you think about it, the parallel universe conversation could have happened while they were in a state of undress (or something to indicate that they’d gone further than makeouts) but instead she had them talk while in oversized hoodies and sweats. So I think she wanted the main takeaway from this snuggly Saturday to be them talking about their lives and personal philosophies.

Like I said, it would have been a big deal for Isak, going from his first kiss with a boy to being sexual with a boy within a day or so, and since Isak is still dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia, I’d say he wouldn’t progress that fast? It’s true that he seems willing to jump into things with Even pretty quickly, but it also makes more sense to me as a step after he’d come out to his friends and gained a little more self-acceptance. “They’re teenagers and therefore driven by hormones” isn’t convincing enough of a reason enough for me to think they went that far. I mean, Noora and William are also shown waking up in bed in their underwear in the next clip after their first kiss, and it’s immediately established that they have not yet had sex. (Which is why I don’t think Isak waking up in his boxers is proof, either.)

Just personal preference but Even is already cheating on Sonja by making out and snuggling with Isak. I’d rather he didn’t do anything blatantly sexual with him on top of that.

The only thing that gives me some doubt is the crumpled tissue on Isak’s nightstand, because we all know Skam loves to be cheeky about Isak’s toilet paper, lmao.

We’ve seen Isak struggle with insomnia but here he appears to have slept pretty well, and we get the first hint that Even also has trouble sleeping. “I don’t sleep cuz sleep is the cousin to death” is waaaaay more loaded as a lyric than it might seem at first. It’s also quite ominous as we kept getting casual mentions of death around Even. Feels like the Grim Reaper is always trailing him.

Even frequently calling Isak hot/attractive, as he does on his sketch, is so good for Isak to hear. Isak has trouble vocalizing his attraction to men (well I GUESS that guy on Grindr is handsome, Eskild) but for Even, talking about his attraction to Isak is as normal as breathing. Even just does not give a fuck, in a lot of ways, about some of the hangups that Isak currently struggles with - talking about men being attractive, dealing with generalizations, liking “gay”/stereotypically un-masculine things. And that’s really good for Isak to be around, because he thinks the world of Even, and if Even can be like that or say this or do that, then maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world for Isak to admit he finds boys attractive. Even normalizes some of this behavior for him.

Also, it’s just so nice for Isak’s first real love (a boy!!!) to make him feel adored and shower him with compliments. Sincere ones, at that! Even isn’t faking any of this as some people predicted; he’s completely smitten with Isak.

I find it so endearing that cartoon Isak wears a snapback underwater.

I forgot, who did the drawings for Even? Some random on the production team? Julie? Imagine keeping that as a souvenir from the set.

Even has already internalized what Isak said about parallel universes. This one is just a silly joke comic, but later these sketches are going to be something like a coping mechanism for him.

Lmao, Eskild and Noora. Noora is randomly cleaning walls as a way to either alleviate William-related stress, satiate Isak-related curiosity, or both. Both? Both. Julie had to delete a William-related line in the script because it didn’t fit in right here, but by the Looks she gives Isak once Eskild steps in, she wants all the gossip.

You know, not that I condone turning Isak’s sexuality into a fun speculative game, but I so wonder how the girl squad side of Nissen was reacting to the developing Evak relationship from the outside? You know Noora was probably giving Eva updates on everything, Vilde was clueless for a while, Sana was just complaining about Isak forgetting his biology notes, and Chris was like, “Damn, the spirits weren’t smoking crack after all.”

Don’t you wish you could’ve seen the Even-Eskild interaction in the bathroom that morning? Especially when Eskild encounters a random dude in the flat wearing the Jesus shirt. Was Even still wearing the shirt when he left, or did he return Isak’s clothes and go home in his Halloween costume?

Eskild is just. The best. He knows that Isak is most likely gay, and he wants Isak to open up to him, and he’s probably like “it’s finally happening!!!” once he spies Even in the bathroom. But he’s trying to be “casual” and positive about it. Oh, that Even guy was super cool! It’s cool that you had a cool guy over, Isak, we’re all cool with it.

Alas, Isak was Not in the mood to talk about this. As soon as he steps out of his bubble, he gets confronted with questions about Even and has to retreat. But the bubble just isn’t the same alone.

Clip 3 - Isak on the outskirts of the boy squad

Poor Isak just wants to find out what’s going on with Even, to the point of waiting outside his classroom. But he has no idea that what Even’s going through is way more serious than he could have realized.

Isak doesn’t waste a single second in bailing from Emma, lmao.

This scene with the boys is so well done. The tension is evident. Tarjei’s acting is terrific. He rolls up to the boys ready to be bro Isak, friend Isak, and you can see him present a better mood (or faking a better mood) only for the shock to sink in when he realizes he fucked up by forgetting Magnus’ birthday.

When Isak strolls up to the boys, none of them pause to acknowledge his presence, they don’t even know he arrives until Isak starts apologizing. That’s how out of the loop he is.

To be fair, as much as I understand why Isak would lose track of anything except lying in Even’s arms - with someone looking at you and cuddling you like that, who wouldn’t - but he did blow off his friend’s birthday after talking about it with his friends and discussing tentative plans, and ignored their texts to alert him. That’s the problem with the bubble: you’re cut off from the outside world, both bad and good. Isak needs to learn how to bring his two worlds together and not aggressively shut them off from each other.

Not to mention that this is the third week in a row where Isak has lied or canceled plans, after the Emma pre-drink he randomly canceled and the kosegruppa pre-drink he didn’t tell the boys about. Isak’s lie about his family party is just half-hearted. Jonas and Mahdi see right through it and aren’t falling for this BS. Even Jonas, the best friend ever, is getting done with Isak’s shit.

Lol forever at Julie’s script being like “Isak gives (Magnus) a hug or high-five or whatever, how the fuck am I supposed to know what 17 year old boys do.” It’s hilarious but also indicates that she probably asked Tarjei and David what gesture would fit in the context of this scene for their characters, and they went with the hug. Awwww.

The other boys do some good acting in this scene, too. David does a nice job of being a little friendlier than the other two, but in a muted way. Magnus is the most cheerful and good-natured of the boys, the one who doesn’t really get upset, and so he doesn’t shut out Isak to the degree that Jonas and Mahdi do (they both seem mega-annoyed with him) but I think Magnus was actually hurt by Isak forgetting his birthday? I mean, I doubt he went home and cried in his pillow. But it would sting that Isak just completely bailed with no warning, no text message that he wasn’t going to make it. He just totally forgot.

Isak tries to work his way back into the circle, being enthusiastic, wanting to know what happened, but he’s so blatantly on the outside. The other boys don’t even try to tell the story to him (and Jonas is the one who says this so you know it’s got an extra sting). You can see Isak visibly dim when he realizes he can’t just jump back into the squad - again, great acting from Tarjei.

Also, once the boys have made it clear that Isak can’t hop into their conversation like everything’s normal, we don’t get any more closeup shots of their faces. It’s all on Isak’s reaction. When the boys keep talking among each other, it’s like something happening at the edge of the frame, they move in and out of it, but we’re not able to engage with it fully … we the viewers don’t feel like we’re part of the discussion, either. We’re there with Isak.

So this story the boys tell, about the girl with the facial hair, was not in the script and must have been improvised by the actors or prompted by Julie later. However, it’s an example of how S3 was firing on all cylinders. The boys could have been talking about anything. They could be telling some wacky story about Magnus, a can of beer, and a saxophone. Any anecdote that’s complicated and something Isak can’t be part of, anything where you just had to be there to understand. But it’s not just any story. The incident they’re talking about involves a girl with a facial hair and Magnus almost kissing her. And how this was gross, you don’t want to kiss someone like your father. And what did Isak do on Saturday, instead of going to Magnus’ birthday party? He was kissing a boy. And lol, Even isn’t the most hirsute dude out there, but you have to imagine he has some stubble. But in any case, the message of what they’re saying is clear: kissing people with stubble is gross. Something I doubt a gay guy would think. These are straight dudes who don’t want to kiss girls who remind them of boys. Meanwhile Isak has been kissing an actual boy and found it to be pretty damn amazing, way more satisfying to him than kissing a girl. It’s just another way he’s locked out of the group - not only was he not there for this particular incident, he can’t even relate to the feelings behind the story at all. Julie and the cast are basically multi-tasking here by adding an extra layer of isolation that’s thematically relevant to Isak’s internal struggles. A ton of S3 is layered like this, which is part of why it’s lingered with its fans. And why I wanted to write tl;dr meta about it, lol.

#skam reactions #skam season 3 #skam #isak valtersen #evak

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uncontrollablyme · 6 years

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Today, I am okay.

I am writing this today before I get stitches removed from my face. I know I am okay deep in my core, even if I am not actually okay. I went for a normal skin check, thank you heritage and too much sun exposure, and then I heard Basal and the C word, and we are doing a biopsy right now. I was stunned, but calm, knowing the "spot" wasn't normal for months and then fearing this moment. A pinch, burn, sting, and then driving myself home with my left eye half covered with a bandage. Then, just numb. Let me back up.

I have mentioned before on here and on different social media posts that this last 12 months has been one of the hardest years of my life. Harder than living with a broken home as a little girl and having no idea that that hard wasn't normal. Harder than defying my mother and moving out and into a relationship she didn't approve of. More difficult than that same relationship failing and going through a two-plus year long divorce. Harder than parenting alone and even more difficult than being abused for years and harder than recovering from the night I was raped. More difficult than health issues and family drama, mental health crisis's and living on less money than could stretch to feed us, and all of the uncertainty of life on a normal day-to-day. This last 12 months shook me, changed me, and showed me how all of that suddenly seemed to pale in comparison.

To say I am resilient is a fact. I have survived things that should have killed me. But this last year, which contains the absolute hardest night of my life to date, also involves others, so some of it I have yet to open up about in an effort to protect them. In time I will find a way to share but for now, you'll just have to believe me when I say that I felt my life impossible to face under this set of events.

During all of the same time that my life was turning upside down, I was also faced with the wildly overwhelming idea of being on my own and what that meant for what really was the first time in my life. I compounded the hardest time in my life with my fake sense and need to control, the need to make clear who I was in what felt like an early midlife crisis. Good timing eh?

At the lowest point, when I struggled to get through the days I finally hit a place in my life where I could no longer get through alone. I knew I needed help, the kind that my loving family and friends could not provide. Not for lack of want to or effort, but simply because they are too close to be objective and also were supporting me no matter what. (Sidenote, I am eternally for all of your support, y'all know who you are. Whether a passing conversation or those nearest and dearest on this journey, I appreciate you!) I knew I needed the kind of help that only a professional could direct and finally, finally after all of the hard times and suffering of my life, some even beyond what I touched on above, I decided I was worth it.

I was worth saving. I knew I had more work to do and feeling familiar with rock-bottom meant I was tired of being a rock-bottom frequent flyer/visitor. I knew I could overcome. I knew that my audacious tenacity would eventually pull me through, that years to come I would put in the work and be better for it, all, again. But now, this time, the cost to recover sooner, the desire to use my pain to launch me into this next phase of life was bigger than my concern over affording it. My value was worth every penny I put into getting help, every penny.

After all what good can I do in this world if I allowed this kind of suffering to hold me down? Again, again.

So, I made the decision to make an appointment with a therapist. I had seen several before and I knew that there is always the risk of it not being a fit. I have been to a therapist so bad that the urge to walk out mid-meeting was almost more than I could resist. I have tried therapists who coddle, downplay, judge and underestimate. They all gave me just what I needed to give up on relying on a professional for help, furthering my reluctance to ever need anyone for that matter. They all gave me enough incentive to say, "it is too expensive anyway." Or in other words, I am not worth it. But this time I had faith that I would find someone who would not deter me from the real work that needed to be done. I knew my life needed savings and the cost became an after thought.

Facts are, that I could say out loud in the most monotone way, what I survived. I had stood in front of over one hundred people and told my story. And yet, I still had not felt my way through the traumas of my life. I disconnected feeling and emotion from the happenings of my life in an effort to numb, to survive. And it had served a purpose at some points. Unfortunately, it also became a habit.

But now, this night, this situation, was in the heart of my heart something I could no longer numb to. It was blaring in my face, "TRACY JEAN!!!! You have work to do. You cannot keep going this way. You have to get better, learn better, DO BETTER! You cannot give what you do not have!" And so I found my person to help. Actually, within a few weeks, I found two. I found my therapist and my life coach. And when I say they helped me save my life, I mean it with all of the conviction I can.

My therapist, I came by through local word of mouth, my life coach, well I found him on Instagram funny enough. Let me say here that in my weakest moments something told me there was more for me in this business of helping others. So, I needed help but I also knew in order to become like my heroes, to fulfill my desires and passions for giving back, I needed to also learn from them. It was a faint voice under the tormented days but it was there, none the less.

Therapy is reparative and helps you heal the past in order to move forward, coaching is the acceptance of the past with the directive of massive forward momentum. Healing and recovery plus goals and direction. In the overlap is the present and also the action. I knew I had my team. My family, my friends and this dynamic duo, completely unknown to each other were and are magnifying my worth and value, helping me, holding my pain in their hearts and encouraging my change. This unearthing of who I am meant to be. Besides Josephs mom, besides a broken girl, beyond all of the things that happened to me.

This recipe of humans enabling my ability to succeed.

I started the work, realizing it is never really done, I became my own accountability partner. Reading, immersing myself in everything I could to immerse my mind in the fuel that helped direct me, propel me, drive me through the acknowledgment, the facing, the overcoming and into the best me I have been yet.

It wasn't pretty on a lot of days, in fact, sometimes the monumental tasks kept me in bed, or shut down, or with a feeling of being a spinning top with more questions than answers. But then other days would bring a breakthrough and I found myself a step ahead of my pain, shoulder to shoulder with all of my experiences rather than them strapping me down as they had previously. I was working through it. I was getting up and pushing into all of the dark corners and connecting the dots where there was once only blank space. This puzzle of all of what makes me, me, was taking shape. There was no loud bang, no poof, and a cure. It was in the constant and consistent connection to myself, mediations, journaling, reading, showing up for my appointments and myself. The day-to-day, one foot in front of the other, one breath at a time AND the grace in which I faced my failures. My grace allows me to be human, to know it is okay to not have it all together, all the time. It gifts me with the softness I need to recover and heal.

Grace.

Throughout these past few months, I have come so far. My therapist helped me give me back my worth, my validation of events, my heart connected to soul and life. She helped me give myself back all of the grace I so easily handed out to others, she helped me forgive myself years after letting others off the hook so easily. My coach, man he exploded my brain so many times and still does. He helped me undo past damage but sent me forward with new perspectives that have helped me change my life. He guided me to my own truths and answers without judgment. He allowed me to shout my truths at the top of my lungs and then say "job well done!" Together they have empowered me to rewrite my story. My way. I cannot change this life up to now but I absolutely can grasp this life by the balls, or boobs to be equally un-PC, and make it mine with audacious resiliency.

Shew all good stuff and liberating, overcoming, strength, resiliency-based brain power! And then my body went, "Oh hey brain, good job! Well done, I am so proud of you... but uh we need some love now too."

I realized to the detriment of my health I had neglected really taking care of me. Not on purpose, not in a malicious way. But in the simple disregard in making an appointment a year earlier when I first noticed the spot on my face as an example.

I am writing this now, before I know the results because I truly, unwaveringly know and believe that I am okay. Better than that I am chock full of this life and even if there is another obstacle to face because they are bound to come, I trust myself and feel secure in my ability to get through. I can face things with all of the strength that has its basin and foundation in the depths of my pains... which is deep Y'all! I have work to do.

As always, I am not reaching out, also read as spilling my guts, for anything in return. My only hope is to reach those who need the encouragement today. To possibly fall into the inbox or be read on a post by someone I can help. This is not about comparison, just my story. My story being spoken loud enough so that those it can reach hear it with a compassionate hug of "me too". Life is tough, but you are worth it.

UPDATE!

My head is still spinning, the results were not good, BUT I AM STILL OKAY! I have been diagnosed with Basal Cell Carcinoma, but before your head starts to spin too, it is the best kind of skin cancer to have. It is very common, slow moving, and once removed it should be gone from my body completely. The reality of it's outcome, it being super common, it being curable and figure-out-able does bring a little relief.

Am I scared? Of course.

Has it fully sank in? Not really. And I am sure there will be emotionally charged moments, questions, and the fogginess I felt as the words from my doctor settled over me. I will be sure to continue to share and spill my guts here about it all in the future.

Do I know I will be okay and still mean everything I wrote yesterday? ABSOLUTELY.

I have cancer, I am going to face it with every ounce of strength and resiliency that has grown from within me through all of my experience up to this point.

I am a warrior. Today, I am okay.

PSA - Stop using your skin as payment to worship the sun. I spent half of my teens with sun-in and baby oil during my summers and my twenties in a tanning bed. I love the feeling I get from enjoying the sun and being tan... but if I have to look like Casper to keep doing this life, so be it. SUNSCREEN is your friend! Use it!

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projectalbum · 7 years

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Art is Resistance. 149. “With Teeth” (Halo 19), 150. “Year Zero” (Halo 24), 151. “Y34RZ3R0R3M1X3D” (Halo 25), 152. “Ghosts I-IV” (Halo 26), 153. “The Slip” (Halo 27) by Nine Inch Nails

The 6-year gap between Nine Inch Nails studio albums saw the Internet become truly ascendant in popular culture, for better and worse.

Napster took a bite from the music industry and was put down like a mad dog. The Pirate Bay first unfurled its flag. Radio play and music videos were still the main avenue for displaying the wares of major label musicians to the general public, and success was still measured in units of CDs sold, but more and more people were becoming hip to the underground access provided by a DSL modem.

But the power of the Web to empower artists and connect them to their fans still evaded most of the recording industry; honchos and artists alike were largely clueless. Trent Reznor, the big ol’ nerd, was a notable exception. Posting on early message boards on Prodigy, embracing torrents, creating an online gateway for the band’s fans, leaking material from the archives, experimenting with an optional-pay release, even being an early adopter of Twitter— it was a white-hot fiber optic cable running through the life of the band. While this technological engagement didn’t always translate into sales (The Fragile was considered a financial disappointment), it was a 21st century incarnation of the connection between what the artist creates and how the audience consumes it, internalizes it, and hopefully finds some emotional release in it.

This uneasy alliance between organic emotion and technological chilliness is reflected in this era of Nine Inch Nails’ aesthetic, both musically and through the packaging. Where Downward Spiral and Fragile dealt in decaying earth tones, the releases starting with 2005’s reemergent With Teeth (#149) are shades of blue, black, ghost white, and slate gray, dirtied up by belching factory smoke, or distorted by broken pixels and lines of computer code. The songs are likewise colored by pulsating synth accents, digital distortion, hums and drones and beats. The instrumental stems for Reznor’s compositions were offered up to remixers both professional and amateur, so that even the boundary of artist and audience member became liminal. He had his carefully constructed versions of “The Hand That Feeds” and “Only,” but suggested that there were infinite alternate permutations to be created at the click of a button. For the once angry, brooding Prince of Industrial Rock, it was downright egalitarian.

“All The Love In The World,” a title that might suggest a big-hearted power ballad on a cornier band’s track list, is in Reznor’s hands an electronica-inflected paranoid dirge. Where crunchy guitars would have provided the backbone in the past, here woozy piano figures are the main melodic backup to the vocal, before shifting into driving major chords to signal minute 3’s complete tonal transformation. With its layers of harmonizing Trents, it’s completely unlike anything else in the band’s repertoire, but it was the perfect next course to stimulate my appetite. And then Dave Grohl’s superhuman drumming on “You Know What You Are?” kicked me through the door. The wailing chorus presented an aggressive musical release for me that I’d never had access to before.

“Right Where It Belongs,” the keyboard-driven closing track, is spooky and introspective, and one of the best songs in NiN’s catalogue. A stripped-down, electric piano and vocal version, originally exclusive to the Japanese release but eventually uploaded by Reznor to his website, captures that dark night of the soul uncertainty even better. This recording made its way into the end credits of my senior thesis film, at the point where it was obvious it wasn’t going to go anywhere and that I should at least put copyrighted stuff I liked into it. I also set a live version against grainy deleted footage from Pink Floyd - The Wall, a mashup I figure ol’ Trent would appreciate (the idea was to then do the reverse, matching “Hey You” to the visuals cut together for NiN’s stage show, but the result wasn’t as compelling).

I don’t have any supporting evidence, but Year Zero (#150) may well have been the first time I ever plunked down money for a physical copy of a NiN CD. Also lacking sufficient empirical backup: I’m convinced this speculative fiction about an increasingly plausible American dystopia represents some of Reznor’s strongest songwriting. Inhabiting characters like a brainwashed foot soldier, an underground Resistance fighter, a religiously-inflamed demagogue, even a judgmental alien intelligence, he moves away from the diary page introspection that could occasionally curdle into lyrics of questionable taste (Sorry, please don’t slip on all the tears I’ve made you cry).

The release of the album was notably attached to a labyrinthine “Alternate Reality Game” campaign, with in-character websites, USB drives hidden at concerts, and music videos with secret messages, adding plot strands and world building to the lyrics. (I missed the boat on all that, but the work that the same marketing company did for The Dark Knight was sure something to experience.) All of which would be near-impenetrable, if the actual music wasn’t so compelling. You don’t have to read the wiki pages to feel the apocalyptic beats and glitchy cacophony of “HYPERPOWER!,” “The Good Soldier,” and to pump your fist to the chorus of “Survivalism.” “I got my propaganda / I got revisionism” hits harder in a time, 10 years on from the album’s release, in which the most powerful voices in the U.S. government disregard reality on the reg, occasionally try to downplay the Holocaust. “Capital G,” a gleefully sociopathic near-rap by the forces of greed, could soundtrack one of Paul Ryan’s dead-eyed workout photoshoots.

“In This Twilight” and “Zero Sum” are the shattering two-part coda, in which the squabbling remnants of humanity face the end, whether by divine intervention or nuclear fire. The first juxtaposes crunchy, distorted percussion and fuzzed-out bass with perhaps the most perversely light and melodic vocal performance Reznor has ever delivered. He’s singing about encroaching extinction, but in a blissed-out religious reverie, optimistic for the afterlife. The character at the center of the closing track is not so sure: this is the End of this ridiculous human experiment, and we’ve brought oblivion on ourselves. “Shame on us / For all we have done / And all we ever were.” There’s the Nine Inch Nails nihilism we know and love!

Y34RZ3R0R3M1X3D (#151) filters the previous album through Hip-Hop and EDM, to uneven effect. The collection of remixes never quite sustains the highs established by the first two tracks: Saul Williams’ fiery rap verses turn the instrumental “HYPERPOWER!” into a polemic against a legacy of American violence, “Gunshots by Computer,” while modwheelmood frees the vocals of “The Great Destroyer” from the squealing synth breakdown and creates a whole new paranoid anthem. While it’s also interesting to hear the Kronos Quartet reinterpret “Another Version of the Truth,” the rest is largely skippable. The physical set includes a DVD with the multitracks for the original Year Zero recordings, so you too can fuck with the raw materials! (I’ve been trying to remix things for years, and I’m awful at it, but it’s fun to hear the individual instrumentation.)

After freeing himself lyrically from his old methodology, the next release from Reznor eschewed words and melody completely. Ghosts I-IV (#152) is nearly 2 hours of ambient experimentation, a precursor to the Oscar-winning film scores with Atticus Ross (a few tracks were literally reworked for The Social Network, and several others continue to be licensed for film and documentaries). The buzzsaw distortions, dark piano chords, oddly organic synthesizers, and industrial beats identify it as a NiN record even in the absence of vocals. Though good luck recommending your favorite tracks, with titles like “26 Ghosts III” and “09 Ghosts I” not exactly sticking in the memory.

The Slip (#153), originally released free of charge, is more of a return-to-form. Arguably too familiar— it’s essentially With Teeth Part 2, but leaner and meaner. It’s not held in especially high regard, but it was there right at the outset of my fandom, and as such I continue to have a soft spot for it. I even bought the physical copy after years of listening to the decent quality MP3’s. “Discipline,” with its uncommonly funky bass line and high hat-favoring drum beat, is my number 1 “trying to sneak it onto a party playlist but not very successfully” NiN song. Along with the following track, “Echoplex,” the dark dance floor vibe is a preview of the sound Reznor and co would explore with How To Destroy Angels. “Lights in the Sky,” “Corona Radiata,” and “The Four of Us are Dying” create a kind of suite, insinuating and ethereal. I can understand if you bow out of that middle, 7-minute-and-33-second, ambient track before the library sample of fighting cats kicks in. But “LITS” is Reznor’s sparsest, prettiest piano lament, announcing the eminent “retirement” of Nine Inch Nails as a touring/recording entity.

Wave goodbye. They’ll be back.

#Nine Inch Nails #Trent Reznor #rock #hard rock #industrial #electronica #CDs #cd cover #album art #alternative rock #With Teeth #Year Zero

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benbarnesescape · 7 years

Text

The Wager - Part 3

Warnings: None at all

A/N: This is a shorter part but it's fluffy and adorable because you know what, there's not enough fluffy Logan! Yes he’s kind of an ass and yes he probably kinda is a jerk but I think he’s a character that has the opportunity to change cuz like most of us daddy issues. Actually have no idea if this is reflected in his character on the show anymore cuz i haven’t watched Westworld since November, its just the background story I’ve decided to live for him ha ha! At least in my head…..either way enjoy

Read the previous Part here

Logan watched you carefully as you chatted enthusiastically to the older couple beside you, sipping your coffee occasionally as you droned on about how you were able to see the great master chef himself bake the buttery croissants placed in front of you all. He knew the smile creeping on his face was a result of the way your eyebrows furrowed together as you listened intently to the older man drone on about how the community had changed, the way you licked your lips before taking a sip of your latte, the way you absentmindedly pushed your hair out of your face.

He had it bad. He knew he did and yet he couldn’t stop himself from pushing further into it. You had every right to call him out on his newfound affection. Though you were both comfortable with each other and you always tried to cuddle with him while you both mindlessly watched Netflix, he never crossed the line, respecting the men you decided to have in your life.

But you were free now and he had started to notice small things. Like your perfume. The way it mingled with your shampoo when he was near. He wanted to bury himself in it. Then the way your skin felt, smooth and soft. He could spend hours worshiping it. Wanted to spend hours memorizing every inch of it.

You laughed, redirecting his attention and he groaned internally.

No, you weren’t like other women. If anything were to happen, it had to be on your terms. He had almost kissed you back in the kitchen. Wanted desperately to taste you again, claim you as his. He wanted every man who had thrown lustful glances at you while you weren’t looking to know that you were his.

But he had no right. He knew that.

“Logan actually is quite the accomplished chef. My croissants didn’t turn out so well,” you held up your light pastry, the intrinsic design a muddle triangle shaped bun. “But his are perfect.” You held one of his up and the woman and man agreed. Their waiter came over with their check and Logan waived his hand at the man.

“I’ll take care of it Louise. Put it on my tab.”

The couple begin to disagree but Logan shook his head. “You were very kind to join us for brunch and save my friend from a boring conversation. Please let me do this.”

They give a gracious smile as he stood, giving a slight stretch before extending his hand out.

“Enjoy your trip in New York. She gave some great suggestions for places to check out. And congratulation your daughter again on her first son.”

They continued to extend their thanks as he watched you hug them goodbye, before you both headed out of the restaurant.

“That was uncharacteristically nice of you. I had no idea you were paying any attention to the conversation at all.”

Your light voice broke him of his thought and he shot you a smirk, shaking his head.

“Why uncharacteristically? And I can multitask. I was just thinking about our next stop for today too.”

He allowed you to step into the town car first, trying to ignore staring at your ass before following.

“I don’t know. I guess that’s not kind of me to say. I’ve just never seen you be charitable to strangers before.”

You’re leaning back to look at him, a smile on your face and he laughs, shaking his head as he looks out the window.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know Y/N.”

He watches your reflection give a short nod as you sit back in your seat, looking out the window. Your both silent as the car starts, taking you to your next destination as you both get lost in your thoughts before he decides to reach over and grab your hand. The move is absentminded and you jump up in surprise, staring down at the way his fingers grip yours before he pulls away mumbling.

“Sorry, I know you said you didn’t want me to…..ah just forget about it.”

His eyes are pulled back out the window, his eyebrows furrowed together, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. Shit. You had made it clear that affection was way too soon. And why did he care? Why did he want to connect with you anyways?

What the hell was wrong with him?

Its only minutes before he feels the warmth of your hand over his, interlocking them before resting your head on your shoulder.

“Sorry about that Lo. I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier – blame it on my lack of coffee. Of course you can cuddle with me whenever you want.” your voice is a soft whisper and he doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he exhales.

He tries to downplay the action by chuckling though he knows the beating of his heart is a response of relief and squeezes your hand before placing a soft kiss in your hair.

He was definitely wading in unknown, fearful territory. Walls were falling fast and he was becoming someone different, a stranger to the guise he wore for the world.

And he wasn’t so sure how he felt about it.

You frowned, looking up at the cursive words that eloquently spelled out Rachel Saison’s name, the fine letters glowering down at you. It was too much. All of it. It was the second destination and you were standing outside a store, correction a boutique for a very expensive and well respected designer, and refused to walk in. Logan stood impatiently at the door, heaving out loud sighs but you kept your jaw set, answer firm as he continued to pressure you into walking into the store.

“No way.” You repeated when he asked for the fifth time to come inside.

“Why not?”

His deep voice that normally carried control and dominance was shifting to an annoyed whine and you crossed your arms as you looked at him.

“I can’t afford shit in this store. I’m a curator – and not a curator at The Met – for a network of local museums and artists. I don’t make shit for New York. Can’t afford the real stuff – I go to Chinatown and buy knockoffs. This leather jacket is a knockoff for her actual piece of work. No, I refuse to embarrass myself knowingly.”

He gave a sigh as he waded toward you through the busy sidewalk, ignoring the small group of people who had stopped to watch the small argument unfold.

“We had a deal remember? I won the wager and you have to do whatever—“

“Logan I can give two shits about the stupid bet we made right now.” Your voice is ice as you close your eyes, catching him off guard. He watches you for a beat before he places a hand on your shoulder cautiously.

“Y/N, talk to me.” His voice is softer and you open up your eyes, tears watering at the brim and his voice scowls into more concern.

“Did I do anything to upset you? I didn’t mean to offend you….” There’s an uncertainty now to his tone, his eyes desperately seeking your own as he places another hand on your waist, drawing you closer to him.

“Logan it's not that it's just…” you bite your lip. You hated this. Hated admitting your insecurities and faults. Especially to someone like Logan who carried himself with intense confidence. Though you knew and he knew that it was a cover to deal with his father and whacked up job of parenting the man had painted into Logan’s character.

Life sucked.

You take another breath before you breathe out, “ Logan it's just…stores like this make me so uncomfortable. I know that I don’t…never talked to you about it before but I grew up poor. Real poor. My dad left my mom when she was naïve and 17 and she scrapped by wherever she could to get us by. I don’t know how to walk into a place like this, in my outfit that is clearly a knock off, and act like I belong or can afford it without people assuming I’m your mistress. I don’t care about who I am, you know? I work hard and I like my life. But when I go to places like this, places that just reeks of wealth and pompous, all that comes tumbling down. And I feel like high school me, trying to pretend so desperately that I’m more than the outfit I’m wearing.”

You don’t mean to cry, don’t mean to unravel around him but you do, the last word coming out in a light sob before he’s drawing you into a hug, your face cradled in his chest. He hold you firmly in silence, rubbing your back occasionally while you unwind. It’s a stupid thing to cry about but you hated the pit in your stomach these places made you feel – these women who had grown up in elegance and wealth and confidence. Hated feeling out of place next to someone like Logan, who did belong and deserved someone on that level.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,”Logan's soft voice cuts through your thoughts once you’ve settled and you look up at him as he begins to brush your tears away. “I know it's hard to be…honest. But you belong here and deserve this. I know how much you like this designer and she’s an old friend of the firms and when I told her about this amazing woman who would die for some of her clothing, she happily agreed to do a special fitting for you. As a favor to me since apparently I never buy clothes for women.” He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly at the last part and you give a soft laugh before his fingers fall short of your lips.

“But if you don’t want to go in there because you’re uncomfortable we can do something else. This day is about you.”

His eyes are piercing as they look back at you. There’s no expectation but compassion and you give a small smile, placing a soft kiss on his finger. The action takes him off guard as you say,

“No, you’re doing something really sweet. And I would die for a special fitted session with Rachel Saison. In fact, Les and Jess would kill me if I passed this up. I can do it, but only if you’re there.”

He chuckles, nodding his head before he places a kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away he mumbles,

“I already told you, it’s one of my fantasies to have you model for me.”

Its meant as a joke but the way he’s looking at you reflects something else. The same way he looked at you at your party the night before, desire hiding behind his dark pupils. Before you can comment though, he pulls away, grabbing your hand and leading you into the store.

“I don’t believe you Logan.”

The sultry voice carries low enough for the other workers in the space to not overhear, but loud enough for his ears. He looks up to see Rachel Saison, international famous designer and good friend, stroll toward him from behind the dressing room. Her golden blonde hair shone in the fluorescent light, her blue eyes glistening as they narrowed in on him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking up from his blackberry and she rolled her eyes, taking a seat beside you. She quirks an eyebrow as she sits down beside him, shaking her head.

“When you told me that you had a friend interested in my clothing, you didn't tell me it was a girl you were into you.”

This time he quirked his eyebrow and Rachel rolled her eyes, snorting.

“Don’t play stupid with me,” her thick french accent rang in the air. “I saw the way you were gaping at her before you walked in. We all did. Half the girls in here couldn't believe that the man they fucked was giving his attention to some nobody.” she raises her arms before he can defend you. “There words Logan. But then to chat with her to find out that you haven’t even fucked and that’s even more curious.”

“Its true Rachel. I haven’t slept with her.”

“I know,” Rachel throws an arm over the couch. “Girls that sleep with you get desperate and clingy and annoying. She’s different. Affectionate but cautious. Intelligent obviously because she’s got you on a leash but funny. I like her. I don’t like women you normally fuck. The shitter of it is that she probably cares about you more than you realize and doesn’t even know it.”

He leans back, giving Rachel a knowing smile while shaking her head. Rachel and him were friends because she was the only women he could have conversations like this with. Could be honest and insecure without judgement. Had an equally crazy mother whose shadow she lived under her whole life. A lot of people always thought they would end up together but they were just to similar. To broken.

Needed someone else to help get through their emotional burden.

So when she said all of this, the vulgarity of her observation hitting at his ego, he only has one thing he knows to be true to defend himself.

“I’m not good enough for her.”

The words cause silence. So much so that Logan wonders if she’s gone into shock, her eyes watching his with curiosity. Rachel wasn’t a women to shock easily. In fact, most people had the opposite problem with her.

When she finally does find her voice, it’s a soft whisper.

“When is Logan not good enough for someone?”

She’s met with silence as one of her assistants pop out from the curtain you are getting dressed behind, a bubbly smile on her face.

“The first outfit is absolutely superb on her!”

She claps her hands giddily as she pulls the curtains and Rachel’s eyes widen, taking you in the short designer sun dress.

“My, my, I might have to recruit you as a model. What do you think Logan? Think she’s good enough for a Paris runway?”

You are insistent that you aren’t ready for any kind of runaway, let alone for her designs as you check yourself out in the mirror. Even if it does compliment your frame, still not good enough.

Logan; however, felt differently. He turned too late, after everyone else in the store had guffawed and was now struck by the way your body perfectly melded to the fabric, the navy blue and white designs swirling around your bosom distracting him. Your hair that you had thrown in a quick ponytail caressing against your shoulders, teasing your skin as your bright eyes sparkled taking yourself in. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and he holds his breath, at a lost for words.

This is what it feels like to have the wind taken out of you.

He’s unable to hear Rachel call out his name until you turn, looking at him with a huge grin on your face.

“Logan are you ok?”

You voice snaps him out of his trance and he shakes his head, trying to clear his brain of all the thoughts passing through. The most pressing being to push you against the mirror to fuck you senseless and then wrap you in his arms to protect.

What the hell was wrong him? The question for the past 24 hours. He was in deep need of a drink.

“I’m fine.” he falls back deeper into the sofa, his legs falling open as a dark grin graces his face.

“Just thinking about how beautiful you look in that dress.”

The undertone of the statement is evident as his eyes flicker with lust, never leaving yours and you blush, trying to detract from his intense gaze.

“I’d love to try the next outfit Rachel, if that’s ok?”

Rachel, who has been watching the interaction in silence clears her throat, trying to dispel the awkward air as she lifts from the couch lightly.

“Yea, I think that’s probably best even though,” she casts a glance at Logan whose eyes are still watching yours, the look never leaving his face.

“You got him all fired up sweetheart. Doubt you’re going to be able to tame that look down. At least until you leave. And even then…..”

“What?! No its not...Logan and I...” you stumble over your words and she laughs, closing the curtain behind her.

“How the hell have either of you maintained being friends is beyond me. But that's none of my business - fashion is.”

On the other side of the curtain Logan groans, holding his face in his hands.

Perhaps shopping wasn’t the best idea after all.

#ben barnes #logan westworld x reader #Logan westworld AU #logan westworld

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acauguiran · 7 years

Text

23 & Me

I woke up this morning another year older, 23. A reminder that we all face, that time exists & it’s moving along. Growing up I use to measure my success alongside my age. Wanting to accomplish this by 16, 18 and so on. Always racing against this clock that I felt was representative of my life as a whole. Feeling as if the goals were either far out of reach or had passed me by & that my best years were behind me. I’ve since come to understand that it’s not at all true & while it’s good to have some sort of liability/deadlines behind your goals we are not limited by a date, age, or any other number. We are only limited by ourselves. Reflecting on another year on this planet I wanted to consolidate twenty three lessons I’ve learned thus far. Lessons that don’t necessarily come based upon my age rather experience, interactions, and the world around me has taught me.

1. We can only control one aspect of life

How we react to things is the sole thing we can control in life. Not what happens to us, what others may think or perceive, only how we react to such situations. We can take them with stride or let them destroy us. The choice is ours.

2. Be Present

More often than not nostalgia is a deception of better times. The past cannot be changed & on that same token the future comes soon enough. Spend less time worrying about what will happen & focus on impacting the present which in turn equals your future.

3. Time is your most precious comodity

Beyond money, materials, and other worldly possessions it’s time that is your most valued asset. Once spent it’s gone, it can’t be regenerated, constantly moving. Time above everything. We share the same 24 hours it’s how we spend our time that defines our lives.

4. Opportunity is taken not given

If you wait too long for things to magically align you’ll find they were within reach the whole time. We are what we demand out of life. It’s more than hoping or wishing it’s going out there & taking every advantage possible to get closer to your goals.

5. Make more time for yourself

Allow yourself to be bored, treat yourself, get out of your comfort zone now & again. Putting yourself first doesn’t mean putting everyone below you or cutting everyone off. It means prioritizing your needs so that you can better help others along the way.

6. Shit Happens

Sometimes life is going to hit you with a rude awakening. You get fucked over, you have a bad day, what have you. Sometimes there isn’t some larger meaning to anything, sometimes shit really just happens to you no rhyme or reason. Beyond karma or anything else. It’s how you recover that defines you.

7. We all need help sometimes

I use to think independent meant being able to hold your own. That the strongest person was the one who could reserve there emotions. Going through things silently. On the contrary, in the last year alone I’ve learned the strongest most independent individuals recognize when they need help & aren’t afraid to ask for it. That our support structures in life are vital & everyone has their own battles.

8. Wealth is defined by numbers. Rich is defined by gratitude.

Wealth is measured in money & assets. The number one rule of accruing wealth is to have your money make money, reduce losses, and maximize profits. However being rich starts with your appreciation & gratitude for what you have. When you truly understand that the wealth tends to follow.

9. Assume Responsibility

In my 23 years it wasn’t getting a license, paying my own rent, or turning 18 that defined being an adult. It was a lesson I learned in business & in life. It was when you truly learned to assume responsibility for your actions. Not blaming anyone or anything for your position in life & assuming responsibility for your choices or lack thereof.

10. Allow room for spontaneity

In line with being present you have to allow for the unknown. I spent so much of my life planning & plotting that I forgot to allow for the gaps. I felt loss when something didn’t align with the plan. However that’s what adds variety to life. The curve balls, last minute trips, and random decisions that off hand define us.

11. Keep an open mind

You never know what you never know. When I moved to the states a couple years back I had a mindset much more narrow than I do now. Maybe I was young & naive thinking I wouldn’t form new relationships that could parallel my past ones or that certain things weren’t possible. When you learn to keep an open mind & erase the notion of whats possible anything can happen.

12. Be unapologetically great

We seek permission a lot on what we’re capable of. Whether it’s a degree or grade, societies blessings, or what have you. We downplay our strengths & accomplishments. To hell with that. I say be loud, be proud, be the best fucking version of yourself. When I allowed myself to be great at what I do & didn’t apologize for it my mentality changed & greatness followed.

13. Drink more water

Seriously I have to constantly remind myself of this one. There’s really no downside here.

14. Fuck Motivation

Motivation is a reminder of something you were always capable of doing. The reality is you’ll never be 100% always inspired or motivated. Learning to do in spite of that is whats key. What makes the greats great is they did what they had to do even when everything mentally or physically told them not to.

15. Passion, Pursuits, Perception

We often believe that we have to decide in life what’s the one thing we want to do. That we must have this one passion & pursuit it following the traditional system of education. The truth is we can be many things. The reality is even those who you look up to are figuring it out in some aspects. Finding your passion or purpose is different for everyone the only constant is you’ll know it when you find it.

16. Choose optimism

The easiest thing in the world is to choose the pessimistic view. To quit. To do nothing. It requires no effort or judgement. The hard thing is to persevere despite outside opinion & noise. To keep your spirits high in the face of uncertainty. When we are surrounded by so much negativity it’s easy to forget that the positive outweighs it & that there’s more good out there that goes unrecognized.

17. Life expands in proportion to the risk you take

In all aspects the more your willing to put yourself out there or step outside your comfort zone you tend to learn something. Regardless of the outcome or result you become better because of it. I’ve built my life on risk & where I use to fear it I now welcome it.

18. We are what we put out in the universe

I’m not talking about karma or what have you. Rather we are what we believe to be. Before we can become anything we must speak it into existence. The work & effort is definitely required but a belief in oneself is where it begins. I’ve learned in my work if I don’t believe in myself & my capabilities then why should anyone else? My viewers, clients, employees. We are the energy we exert into the world & by doing so we unconsciously give others permission to do the same.

19. Have Fun

As a 22 year old who skipped out on college & jumped into the world of work at 11 this is something I need to remind myself. That these years are only moving forward & its important to stop now again & enjoy it all. Get out, celebrate, make stupid decisions now & again. It’s apart of life & regardless of ones age youth or not. It’s a simple reminder in life to have fun with it.

20. You have the time

No one is too busy or void of time. No one. Not Bill Gates, me, and you reading this. As noted earlier we all share the same 24 hours, 365 days, 7 days a week. It’s about making time for those that matter & the things you want to do or accomplish. That can be anything to going out with friends for a couple hours to life goals or hobbies. The excuse “I don’t have the time...” is just that... an excuse.

21. Don’t be afraid to think BIG

We often downplay big ideas & thinkers because we can’t process such things. We cut ourselves short of achieving greatness because we think it’s too far fetched. It’s that mentality that ironically makes such feats easier to achieve. Most won’t even start which already gives you an advantage. Don’t settle for good, go for great.

22. All things have their lifespan

Be it life itself or relationships. I had to come to terms that certain things just have their run. Some things can’t be mended but forgiven. Some things simply happen outside of our own control. The best we can do is treasure them in the moment & look back upon such things & cherish them for what they were. Some things need to be let go in order to find their way.

23. Life is a choice

At its simplest & most complex level life is a choice. What you want to be, how you want to get there, what you want out of it. A conscious decision to find out who you are & what you want. Once you find those answers is simply making a choice & putting everything behind it. Also realizing that there’ll be setbacks, missteps, and hardship. These are the very thing that wake us up to all the good things. It’s all apart of life. No matter the road you take & what may come along the way you ALWAYS have a choice.

I’m 23 years young with (hopefully) a lifetime ahead of me. Many more lessons to be learned & views that’ll surely change. Life is a process in which all our results are different. I’ve now spent a majority of my life in pursuit of my passion & work. Taking the recent years to take a step back to really see the bigger picture. Pushing myself to leave everything I knew to be home to build a new. To reach higher, push my limits, and expand my worldview. If there’s one constant no matter the year or age it’s this. I’ll always be learning. Always be one step behind my most ideal self. Work has been a big part of my life & it’ll continue to serve as such. For when you find something so intoxicating you can’t help but pursue it with every ounce of you. I aim to as always make my current year on this earth better than my last. To always be making & doing things I love while making an impact. Till the day I die (hopefully very long from now) I’ll continue to do that. Continue to push the agenda. Here’s to what is purely the best & most important of things... being alive & all the possibilities that allows for.

Sincerely,

23 year old me

#personal #writeup #birthday #23 years old #text

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peachymess · 7 years

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1/4 I realize this might be a wrong topic for this blog, but I enjoy your mature take on these things, so I thought I’d give it a go. I, once again, just have to wonder out loud how there are still so many snk fans who believe Eren and Mikasa romance? I realize that the ending of s2 left us on a high note for the romance, but literally everything else in the manga speaks against it more or less. In fact, if you really think about it, Isayama pretty much ended it in ch 50, but I guess he didn’t

2/4 say it clear enough. I don’t say this to rile people up, I don’t say this out of spite or something like that. Like, honestly, there just really isn’t anything else that would back Ere//mika up in the manga. Maybe in shonen, but not by Isayama’s standards. People should, by now, now Isayama’s way of storytelling, and still they are seriously speculating about Ere//mika becoming canon at some point, while ignoring the obvious, more relevant stuff around them. I’m not a shipper, or read snk

¾ for romance, but what I do appreciate is well thought, wrote and explored relationships between characters, and if these kinds of relationships end up become romantic ones, then I’m all for it. I see people hoping Mikasa get a character development before the manga ends, and honestly, one of the greatest things Isayama could grant her, is to make her give up on Eren in a sense she can free herself and start living as her own person again. Maybe it’s my age and I’m getting old for cheesy,

4/4 cliche shonen stuff, but snk has maintained its unique and mature touch despite being serialized in a shonen magazine. As for Eren and Armin, since I feel I need to touch this as well, and it’s the theme of this blog. I certainly appreciate for what Isayama has done with them in a story being published in this kind of magazine. I’m storyteller myself, and could probably continue about this topic for ages, but I guess I end it here. Have a nice day.

Hello, anon! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me! I’m honored that you’d want my input!

(Disclaimer: this got really long, so I’m putting up a “keep reading” - please proceed with the knowledge that I’m not an ere//mika shipper, and that our opinions may differ. I’m not interested in trying to be converted, but once my inbox re-opens, feel free to discuss the topic with me in a mature fashion, if you want my further input on this topic):

Yes, I realize it’s always a risk of riling people up when someone who doesn’t ship the pair in question, takes on an ask about said ship - but I’ll do my best to give my own personal opinion in a mature and coherent fashion. Just like you, I don’t talk about it to bug people, but obviously I have my own thoughts on the subject - and in my case, I lean towards the same conclusion as you: that ere//mika was not written not be a romance. I’m still on the fence about how much or how little Isayama actually intended for Mikasa to read as in love with Eren, as opposed to motherly protective/childlike dependent on - but I also think it doesn’t matter either way; I don’t believe Eren was meant to reciprocate romantic feelings towards her, even if she was designed to be smitten with him.

No, I think that Mikasa’s strong feelings for Eren were supposed to be a sign of her being a lost and misguided title girl (and I say this not in a spiteful way, but in the endearing “protect her” kind of way); we know that the Ackerbond and the Ackerawakening are two different things, but for Mikasa, Eren was the one whom she both got her awakening from, and whom she imprinted on. This all in the midst of Mikasa violently losing her parents as a very young child, then instantly being taken in by Eren. It makes sense that a girl who’s overwhelmed with all of these intense shifts at the same time, would start to cling to the safe center of all of this; Eren. He saved her, woke her up, wrapped her in a scarf that would come to be a symbol of this spiritual rescue and more, invited her “home”, and she of course imprinted on him. … Listen, I’d like to add a personal story time digression here: I used to be bullied at school, and none of the boys ever talked to me unless it was to taunt me. Then one day, when I was 12, we got assigned new seats in the classroom, and I ended up next to a boy who actually started talking to me. I was so grateful that he’d have a conversation with me, that I quickly became smitten with him. I thought I was in love with him, but in reality, I was just in love with how good I felt whenever he’d make me feel like an accepted, normal human being. I kept nurturing this idea of love and it grew for months, until one evening when I joined a game of spin the bottle, and I was asked to reveal my crush. I said it, even with him right there, and despite his vague shrug and smile, I felt an intense relief at getting it off my chest. And just like that, the idea of romance left me. I realized that I loved the person he made me feel like I was. And once I realized that, I was able to hold on to that idea, even when he wasn’t there to produce it. … In many ways, I see myself in Mikasa regarding this. I feel like Mikasa’s attachment to Eren can be read very alike my own attachment to this boy. I think Mikasa spent a lot of years nursing her dependency on Eren because even if she didn’t know anything else for certain, she knew one thing: she loved the feeling of safety and belonging that Eren provided, when nobody and nothing else seemed stable in life. I’m also strongly inclined to believe that she, a young teen full of emotions, could have started to mistake her feelings for a standard crush - but if so, I don’t believe the right way to resolve it, would be to indulge her. Of course, you speak of standard shonen love, and I see how ere//mika could become that, if this was meant to be an unproblematic shone story (their grey-are sibling-y bond is nowhere near “out of bounds” if you compare them to a lot of the onii-chan culture you can find in Japan).

However, SNK isn’t meant to be a regular shonen story; Isayama seems to take not only pride, but also pleasure in avoiding tropes and turn things on its head - of course only to a certain degree, given he’s published through BSM and have a wide YT audience. I am, regardless, very confident that if there’s one department Isayama doesn’t leave unpolished, it’s characters, their dynamics, and their inner workings; I think 3D characters is one of the strongest aspects of his story, and that’s why I’m much more inclined to believe that Eren and Mikasa’s bond is meant to be complex and full of friction. And frankly, I’d say that’s to be preferred; if they became a regular romance, that’s something we’ve all seen many times before, but so far, what I’m seeing, is something significantly more complex - and personally, I feel like it’s deeper this way, too. Look, the incest discourse has been pulled out many times, so I’ll try to make this brief, but I feel like it’s important point to touch upon: we can argue until we’re blue in the face in either direction. It was never stated that the Yeagers ever officially adopted Mikasa, as opposed to just took her in for charity. And either way, there’s a relevant question posed of “does it matter, when she only lived with them for a year?” You can see Mikasa being referred to as “adopted sister” and “motherly” in many Q&As, but then the very same, or other authoritarian sources can do a 180 and produce content that almost explicitly shows Mikasa in love with that very same “adopted brother”. So what are we supposed to believe? I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you my personal take on it: The reason incest is illegal, has to do with biology. If you inbreed, there’s a much bigger risk of genes “malfunctioning” in offsprings. The reason it’s seen as disgusting, is - beyond the biological - that the regular person wouldn’t want to “do it” with a family member, and thus shudders by the thought of someone else finding a situation that they see as uncomfortable, pleasurable. This is why some people can argue that it’s not incest (and/or unnatural) if two adoptive siblings have sex; it doesn’t compromise the offspring, which was the reason the act would be illegal. Now, the people still claiming it’s incest, say it’s so because they realize that there’s more to the act than the physical; you’re not supposed to feel sexually attracted to someone you view as your own flesh and blood - and so, if you truly view an adopted siblings as your sibling, you shouldn’t fancy them. In a sense, both sides of “it’s incest/it’s not incest” are right on paper. But I’d advice against downplaying what role being adopted into a family actually plays; an adopted child is taken into a family with the intention of being a spiritual part of the family just as much as any other biological child - and that’s why, unless otherwise stated, an adopted sibling should be viewed as 100% another member of the family (and thus not an romantic option). But this is generally speaking. Bringing it back to ere//mika, my stance is this: it’s not biologically compromising, so it all comes down to how Eren and Mikasa view each other. The vibe I got from them, personally, was that they were to be seen as family (hence, perhaps, why I did not see the romantic inkling until I heard about it through tumblr and went back to re-read). If they are both comfortable seeing each other as a romantic partner, then I won’t get in their way, but I’m not sure this is the case - and mind you, both of them have to agree on this; if Mikasa waves, it doesn’t matter so long as Eren sees her as family.And welp, I said I’d try to make this brief, but true to my character, I failed horribly at that. No matter; my point is: whether ere//mika is incest or not, is grey-area because their situation is so unique. And I think it may be intentional: this arguing back and forth could very likely be exactly the uncertainty Mikasa is wrestling with in her own approach to her feelings on Eren. Are they siblings, or are they not? Are they family in the traditional sense, or are they family in the expanded sense that all three of them (EMA) belong together? If she feels butterflies towards him that seem different than regular familial love, is it love? Is it ok to be love? Etc., etc.,… On top of this, she seems, as I talked about, to be very deponent on him - which is, mind you, completely understandable. But it makes for a complex conceptions of feelings that are neither here nor there. And that’s why I think resolving it like a regular shonen romance, would be a cop-out on Isayama’s part. Something I don’t expect him to opt for, given what a driven story teller he’s been so far.

Isayama has spoken of how Mikasa letting go of Eren, would be a return to innocence. And I think I understand that, if what I’m saying is anywhere near what Isayama was thinking when he made these two. Because Mikasa isn’t perfect; she may be strong - she’s and Ackerman after all - but she suffered a lot of trauma, and she’s still a young child in literal war. It would only make sense that she’d be less than master of her inner workings. And this constant nursing of the one beacon she has, wouldn’t be healthy for anyone. That’s why I see her moment in chapter 50 as a level-up in her chemistry with Eren. She managed to put into words some of those feelings that must have been running on repeat in her heart ever since that fateful day with her parents… and she got a response that finally differed from Eren’s usual disgruntled retorts. Because just like Armin obviously didn’t hear from Eren what he thought of him, Mikasa didn’t hear that Eren did care about her despite all the bickering. I’ve spoken about this before, but Eren’s very certain in his feelings, and he doesn’t question them - but he also doesn’t express them because they appear as facts to him, so he doesn’t think to wonder if he needs to confirm them to others (well, he’s gotten better, too, but that’s besides the point). So all this time, Mikasa has been fighting tooth and nail to stay be Eren’s side because he’s given no indication that he’d stick around by choice. Of course, that’s exaggerating it, because obviously EMA love each other and they know it - but to what degree do they know it more than the doubt in their head disputes it? Well, Mikasa finally got her answer in 50, and that alone, helped her grow considerably. I think her feelings became more healthy after that. The way she steps down a little after 50, tells me that she didn’t need romance, she needed love. If the opposite had been the case, Eren’s response would not be a resolve, but rather the trigger event making the beginning of advances and Mikasa’s wish to further expand on what they both meant back there. However, Mikasa leans back and seems more assured of her spot (until Eren pulls back and starts talking more with Historia; I think both Mikasa and Armin are visibly affected by this). I realize it still remains for me to answer why I think people ship ere//mika, though. The simple answer is that romance is often the most appealing relationship, simpler or not. Is a complex and difficult relation more interesting? Maybe? But is it much more appealing to go with the ideal, fluffy, happy solution? For many, definitely! I think ere//mika is a very deep bond, as you can see, but also in the sense that it’s possible to interpret in so many different ways. People love love, and if they love Eren and/or Mikasa and want him/her to be happy, of course a happy romance is much more appealing - especially when it’s backed by so many intense canon moments! I won’t go through the manga to look it up myself, but you’ll definitely find a lot of ere//mika meta here on tumblr that will explain exactly who and how their bond can be read as romantic. Just yesterday, I answered an ask on why people would ship Armin with Annie, so honestly, there doesn’t even need to be a lot of canon to support a ship, for it to be appealing. But for those who think ere//mika will be canon, I thin my guess would be that fiction trains us to expect romance - and most often involving the main character. What more, we expect a straight couple, because that’s what’s most common - and just with those formulas alone, Eren with Mikasa seems like the obvious front runner. That being said, my take is the above rambles.

All in all, anon, I can definitely understand the popularity of ere//mika, but I don’t think it’s designed to be a regular romance. And although I prefer it as the sibling bond I see it as, if ere//mika is what would genuinely make Eren and MIkasa happy, I’d want that for them. I guess that’s why others ship it too.

#ask #anon #ship discourse

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miraculouspaon · 8 years

Text

Where Have All The Heroes Gone And Where Are All The Gods?

Chapter Forty: Danielle

AO3

“… and then once Louis and Emma were done scouting the camp out Emma came back for me,” Dani told her mother, “and I empowered General Benois-”

“Who was amazing,” Louis interrupted. “Dani did an incredible job with him.” Marinette smiled as Dani blushed slightly.

“Yeah, well, I can only take so much credit for Champions,” Dani said. “The general did all the real work, I just had to point him in the right direction and let him go. I guess after four months of being held prisoner he had a lot of pent-up frustration to get out,” Dani added without thinking.

“Yes,” Marinette said softly, “I’m sure he did.”

Dani and Louis exchanged a glance. “Well… anyway, that was right before you showed up,” Louis continued. “The military leaders are all having a big meeting with Alya and her people right now, to figure out what to do next. I sent Grandma a quick coded text to tell her you’re doing good, so now they know they’ll have Ladybug helping too. When everything goes down, that is. And that’s everything.”

Marinette nodded slowly. “I…” she took a breath, and Dani could feel the uneasiness rolling off of her in waves. Louis and Dani had done their best to downplay how dangerous the past four months had been for the three of them, but terror had gripped their mother’s heart more than once during their retelling. Dani had been around enough terrified parents over the past few months that she should have been used to the emotion, but somehow it was different when it was coming from her own mother. “I didn’t know what was happening on the outside, of course,” Marinette said, “but I suppose I should have suspected you three would be doing something about it. Nobody in this family ever gets to sit these things out.”

Dani’s arm was already around her mother, but she hugged a bit more tightly and felt her mother’s bitterness recede a little. “What, um, what about you?” Dani asked. “You know the whole story from our side now. What’s yours?”

Marinette sighed deeply. “Well, I… hang on, we should get your sister. Where is she?” At the question, Louis immediately looked to Dani.

“Still where we left her,” Dani answered confidently. “Working on figuring out where Dad is. It’s going really well.” Marinette frowned, confused. “Or at least, the two of them are way more optimistic than they usually are working on that stuff.”

“Ah,” Marinette said, her expression clearing. Dani made a mental note to herself to dial back her blatant use of empathy until her mother was a little more acclimated to everything.

“You want me to go get her, bring her back here?” Louis offered.

“No,” Marinette said slowly, trying but failing to mask her irritation. “we might as well all go. If… if your uncle really is close to finding your father, it might help him to hear my story, too. I might as well tell it to everyone at once.”

“You sure?” Dani asked. She didn’t relish the thought of being in the same room as her mother and Uncle Jonathan at the same time again. Her mother’s shock, fear and anger upon seeing the man had been so intense Dani had practically struggled just to stay standing in its presence. And while Jonathan’s immediate response to Marinette wasn’t nearly as strong, it hadn’t been long before his emotions were almost as intense as hers.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” Marinette said. Well, she believed it at least, that was something.

~~~

Jonathan didn’t look up as the three of them entered the panic room, but Emma did. “Oh,” she said, “Mom, I-” she started to get up, but Marinette waved her back down.

“It’s fine, love,” she said gently, walking over to the desk. She looked over her daughter’s shoulder for a few seconds before looking at Jonathan. “So,” Marinette said carefully, “you know where Adrien is?”

“Just about,” Jonathan replied. He didn’t look up, and kept his voice neutral. “If you have any idea where you docked, though, that would be helpful for verification.”

Marinette nodded. “I didn’t exactly take a tour of the place, but I’ll see what I can remember.” Marinette looked over Emma’s work silently for a few more moments, then traced a finger lightly over the figures. “This is killing him?” she asked softly.

Jonathan shrugged. “Way things are going, Adrien might still outlive us all,” he muttered to himself. Half a second later he visibly winced as Marinette shot him a death glare. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s not as bad as it sounds. Adrien has at least a few months, probably more. We have more immediate deadlines, unfortunately. The Order’s close to figuring out how to detect Miraculous users, and Emma has less than two weeks of safe teleportation left.”

Marinette paled a little and glanced at Emma, who quickly looked away under her mother’s gaze. “Yes, Dani and Louis mentioned that.” Marinette paused, and from across the room Dani could feel her mother firmly shoving aside the part of herself that recoiled from saying what she was about to say. “Thank you.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said, clearly caught completely off-guard, “yeah, sure. Don’t mention it.”

“Don’t mention it?” Marinette repeated, annoyed. “You saved my daughter’s life.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I didn’t do it for thanks,” he said, somewhat defensively.

“I didn’t say you did! I’m still grateful and that’s what decent people do, they say ‘thank you’ when they’re grateful, and they say sorry when they’re remorseful-”

“Okay,” Louis interrupted. “Can we get back to the spell update?” Marinette and Jonathan both looked up at him, startled, and then Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jonathan spread out his notes.

“I’ll have Adrien’s exact location in less than an hour,” Jonathan told them, without a trace of doubt in either his voice or his mind.

“Really?” Marinette asked, all trace of her earlier irritation gone. Jonathan nodded.

“You’re awfully confident,” Dani said, “considering you were completely wrong about the memory spell.”

“I was not wrong about that,” Jonathan insisted, not looking up from his work.

“Mom clearly remembers everything.”

“So she broke it.” Jonathan looked up at Marinette. “When did you get your memories back?”

Marinette stiffened. “How did you know about that?” In response, Jonathan wordlessly pointed at one of the spell pages taped to the wall. Marinette sighed. “Three, or… was it four days ago, now? Five? It was the day before I escaped.”

All three of her children stared at her wordlessly for a moment. “Are you okay?” Dani finally asked in a whisper.

Marinette nodded, though Dani could feel her uncertainty. “It all just happened so fast,” Marinette said. “Remembering, escaping, making it back. It's… I’m still getting used to it.”

“How did you break it?” Emma asked.

There was a flash of desperate longing as Marinette closed her eyes. “I, um, kissed your father, actually.”

Jonathan snorted. “Yeah, that would do it,” he said.

“Oh,” Emma sighed. “Like you did with the Dark Cupid akuma. But how did you know-”

“I didn’t,” her mother interrupted. “I didn’t know anything. We just… fell in love again.”

True Love’s Kiss. Well, that just figured, didn’t it.

Jonathan glanced over at Dani, and she felt him notice her reaction. Ugh, he knew she hated it when he read her, why couldn’t he just-

“They’re not inherently romantic,” Jonathan said, looking back down at his work. Nobody else had noticed him look at Dani before he spoke. “Just… in case anybody was confused about that.”

“They’re not?” Emma asked.

“Sure hope not,” Jonathan replied casually, “or that time I woke Adele up in ‘96 during the Sleeping Beauty incident suddenly feels a lot more awkward. I know in stories they’re always very traditional, romantic… heterosexual,” he added, rolling his eyes, “but as far as real life magic is concerned, ‘true love’ is simply any kind of personal, deeply self-sacrificing love. It can be romantic, familial, even close friendships have been known to work on occasion. Just… you know, in case you kids ever need one, keep that in mind.”

“Oh, good,” Louis said, “so we don’t have to run halfway across Paris to get Henri when Emma gets knocked out or whatever.”

Emma’s face went red. “Why are you assuming it would be me that needed one?” she asked defensively.

“Because it’s always you.” As Emma and Louis continued to bicker, their mother watched on with something actually resembling amusement. Nobody was paying any attention to Dani, and she felt the tension in her chest slowly ease.

“You two remember Mom was about to tell us what happened to her, right?” Dani interrupted a minute later, and Emma and Louis abruptly stopped arguing.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Marinette said. “I-” she looked across the room suddenly, at the news playing on the TV screen mounted to the far wall. “Can we shut that off?”

“Oh. Um.” Emma quickly crossed the room and grabbed the remote, but she merely lowered the volume. “No, actually,” she told her mother apologetically. “We need to keep an eye on the Order broadcasts. Especially after a mission as big as liberating their high-ranking military prisoner camp. We never know if they’re going to completely censor what we do from the public, or if they’re going to broadcast all the details in the worst light imaginable. And we need to know if everyone in Paris is being told to look out for the people we freed or not.”

“Not that it makes much of a difference,” Louis interrupted quickly. “Most people in Paris still wouldn’t give anyone from the Order the time of day, much less information about the Resistance.”

Marinette nodded. For a moment Dani was sure she’d comment, but then it passed and Marinette simply exhaled. “Well… I woke up in a prison cell,” she started. “I had no idea who I was or what I was doing there, and there was a very young blonde woman yelling at me in Swedish.”

“Swedish?” Emma asked.

“Luckily for me, she spoke French, too,” Marinette said. “There were plenty of cellmate pairs with no common language at all. Communication was… very awkward at first, in that place…”

~~~

“… and after it had been about, oh, fifteen minutes of not hearing any voices,” Marinette said, “I kicked out the panel, climbed out, replaced it, snuck off the boat, and ran for the woods as fast as I could. I probably wouldn’t have succeeded without my luck. Or been found a day later by someone actually willing to drive me home,” she added.

“Lucky the Order never figured out who you were, either,” Emma added, “or he might have been a lot less willing to drive you.”

Marinette frowned. “Why didn’t the Order just release pictures of everyone they’d captured, if identification was so difficult?” Her children shrugged, then one by one looked at their uncle. After a moment he noticed and pulled his reading glasses off, pushing his work aside.

“I can only guess,” Jonathan started, “but… how many prisoners were there?”

“Ninety-four,” Marinette replied, before noticing her children’s shock. “What?”

“It’s just,” Dani dug through her bag and pulled out a tablet, “the Order’s only claimed to have neutralized about fifty superheroes. They have this whole nauseating website devoted to each one. And they ran mandatory broadcasts on each superhero as they were identified.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan said, “ninety-four sounds about right. The Order doesn’t want to admit that they just grabbed everyone powerful enough to be a threat. They’re obsessed with their narrative, and their narrative is that they freed Europe from masked vigilantism. If they released pictures of everyone they grabbed, it wouldn’t take the public long to figure out that half of them aren’t masked vigilantes at all. They’re regular people, like Beth. People who just happen to have powerful magic. And except for you and Adrien, identifying the superheroes wasn’t difficult. The Order doesn’t know how to handle quantic magic, because in this plane of existence quantic magic is pretty much exclusive to the seven Miraculouses, but they’re very competent with more common forms. Quantic identity protection was the Order’s only blind spot, as far as we can tell. So figuring out the superhero identities one by one, that probably seemed like the better option.”

“I see.” Marinette looked at Dani. “Website?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Dani said, handing her tablet over. “Here’s the woman Uncle Jonathan just mentioned, Beth Renaud. The woman they think is you. Recognize her?”

Marinette nodded. “She wasn’t in my group, but I knew her. She was there.” She scrolled down. “The other superheroes are here, too?”

“Yeah,” Dani said, “but don’t read the descriptions if you don’t want to be infuriated, the Order doublespeak gets really obnoxious when superheroes are involved.”

Marinette skimmed through the site. “She was in my group,” she said, pausing at one picture, of a Portuguese woman. “Oh-Two-Three. Our leader. She sort of fell into the roll on a whim, actually, but she was good at it.” Marinette read silently for a moment. “Inez Ferreira, the Angel of Guimarães. A doctor who used her magic healing powers to save the dying.” Marinette finished reading the description and sighed. “How do they manage to spin that like it’s a bad thing?”

Dani rolled her eyes. “They’re all like that,” she said, annoyed.

Marinette kept scrolling. “Oh!” she said with a soft gasp. “One.” She blinked back tears. “She was in my group, too. She was… she was very brave.”

Louis craned his neck to see the screen, and his jaw dropped. “Pyra?” he asked, incredulous. “You were in the same group as Pyra?”

“Is that who she is?” Marinette started to read the description, and Dani felt a pang of guilt from her mother. “We… when we were originally coming up with the escape plan, we were going to send her. She was so young, she had no business being in a place like that. But then I got my memories back, and she insisted it be me. Insisted it would maximize our chances of success. She was right, I suppose, but I didn’t want to admit it at first. She was very insistent.” Marinette put a hand to her cheek. “Actually, she slapped me in the face and told me to snap out of it.”

“Pyra slapped you in the face?” Louis asked in disbelief.

As their mother kept reading, Dani took a few steps over and sidled up to her brother. “Jealous?” she whispered.

Louis’ cheeks turned bright red. “Shut up,” he mumbled back, and Dani grinned.

“She was so convinced she was a hero, after I told everyone about being Ladybug,” Marinette said, more to herself than to her children. “It feels wrong, knowing who she is when she still doesn’t remember.” She finished the description, then looked at Dani, her eyes still wet. “I think I’d like to read the rest of these on my own,” she said. “Could I borrow this?”

Dani nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Take all the time you need with it.”

~~~

“Mom?” Dani poked her head into her mother’s room.

“Oh, hi, sweetie,” Marinette said, looking up from the tablet she’d borrowed. “That was very good timing, I just finished reading through everything.” She paused, then narrowed her eyes. “That wasn’t actually a coincidence, was it?”

“Um. No, I kind of… felt it. Sorry, if that’s bothering you I can stop-”

“No, no,” Marinette said quickly. “I’d like to get used to it. I don’t want you hiding your abilities from me.”

“Oh. Well, okay,” Dani said, entering the room and closing the door softly behind her. Marinette smiled as Dani approached.

“If I can get used to having an empath for a mother-in-law,” Marinette added, as Dani sat next to her, “I’m sure getting used to having one for a daughter will be a piece of cake.” Dani laughed, and some of the noticeable tension in her shoulders eased. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, um… well, I know you’ve already met Rajji,” Dani started, “and I guess you must know Wayzz even better, but you haven’t actually met-” Dani opened the satchel slung over her shoulder and squinted into it. “Come on,” she whispered impatiently, before reaching inside and turning back to her mother. “You haven’t met Nooroo yet,” she finished, holding her hand up. The tiny kwami in her palm looked up at Marinette shyly, his lilac eyes wide.

“Oh!” Marinette leaned forward. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Nooroo,” she said. Nooroo’s expression didn’t change.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “For everything that-”

“Oh, no,” Marinette said quickly, and Dani could feel her mother’s heart breaking, just a little. “No, no, none of that was your fault, I know that.”

“I told you she wouldn’t blame you,” Dani said.

Before Nooroo could respond, a red blur darted out from behind Marinette and collided into him. “Nooroo!” Tikki exclaimed, hugging him tightly in mid-air. “We were so worried about you!” Tikki’s energetic embrace had carried them both a few feet across the room, and instead of returning they landed on a nearby dresser and continued to talk quietly. Marinette and Dani watched them silently for a moment, and then Marinette put an arm around her daughter.

“I’m glad that went well,” Dani said softly.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Marinette asked.

Dani shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, fiddling with the amethyst brooch pinned to her chest, “I knew you wouldn’t really be mad at Nooroo, but… well, you became a superhero to fight his Miraculous, so I… I can see why he’d be nervous.”

“Ah,” Marinette said, understanding dawning. She looked at her daughter. “Were you nervous too?”

Dani shrugged again. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, not meeting her mother’s gaze. “I mean… well, Nooroo couldn’t help it, but I’ve made two akumas while you’ve been gone. I didn’t really know how you’d feel about that.”

Marinette bit her lip. “Danielle, I couldn’t be prouder of everything you and Emma and Louis have done in the last four months. You know that, right?” Dani nodded. “You’ve had to deal with so much more than I did at your age,” Marinette continued, “and it sounds like all three of you have been doing an amazing job.” She sighed. “I know four months doesn’t sound like a very long time, but I can tell you three did a lot of growing up in those months. I hate that I missed it. Everything’s so different now, I’m not sure how long it’ll take me to catch up.”

“Oh,” Dani said, squeezing her mother’s hand reassuringly, “some things are still the same.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hmm.” Dani nodded. “I’m still perfect, of course,” Marinette grinned, “Louis still breaks into everything, Emma’s still an awkward mess around Henri… which is crazy, if you ask me. You’d think after she teleported unconscious into the guy’s living room they’d finally get over themselves, but no.”

Marinette laughed. “Yes, well. Awkward teenage romance, in my experience, is the one thing that superheroics take a backseat to.” Marinette hesitated. “What about you?” she asked her daughter. “Any new awkward boys I should be worried about with you? Or girls?”

“Oh. Um.” Dani hadn’t forgotten she’d be having this conversation eventually, but she suddenly felt very unprepared for it. “Well, actually, uh. The thing is…”

Marinette frowned. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s not wrong,” Dani said defensively, “it’s just. Um. I’m asexual, actually. So, uh, one less thing you need to worry about?” Dani let out a small and forced laugh, but her mother didn’t laugh back. Dani wasn’t sure how to interpret what, exactly, her mother was feeling. “I would have told you before,” Dani added in a rush, “I just, I didn’t really figure it out until I became an empath and I had, like, a baseline of comparison, you know?”

For a brief, awful moment the clearest emotion Dani could read from her mother was disappointment. But then Marinette grabbed her and hugged her tightly, and Dani realized she’d misinterpreted it completely. “I am so sorry,” Marinette whispered. “I should have been here for that. I should have been here for you.”

“Oh,” Dani said, and her eyes were filling up with tears, partly due to her own relief and partly due to her mother’s regret, “it’s okay.”

“It’s bad enough you were scared to tell me about the akumas, but on top of that you were worried about telling me this, too?” Marinette hugged Dani even more tightly. “Danielle, you’re my daughter and you are perfect, understand?”

Dani nodded wordlessly and clung to her mother silently, not trusting herself to speak for a while. “I wish…”

“What, sweetheart?” Marinette asked, not loosening her embrace.

Dani sighed. “I just wish we had time to go over everything, that’s all. Just… just talk. For, like, a week or two, just talk. There must be so much you can tell us now, things we didn’t know growing up. But we’re still in the middle of this stupid occupation, and things are getting worse. There isn’t any time.” Dani leaned into their embrace, resting her head against her mother’s chest, and for a few minutes the room was quiet.

“You’re not named after my cousin,” Marinette said, breaking the silence abruptly.

Dani frowned. “Huh?”

Marinette sighed and stroked Dani’s hair. “You’re right,” she said. “There isn’t enough time to go through everything your father and I kept from you kids, everything we lied about. But I can tell you things as I think of them, and that was the first thing that came to mind.”

Dani pulled away. “I’m not named after Danielle Miller? But… why would you even lie about that? You send her a Christmas card every year with my picture! What’s the point of-”

“Oh, you’re named after Danielle Miller,” her mother interrupted. “But she’s not my cousin. She’s an FBI agent. Being cousins was just our cover story when we were infiltrating that cult together, the one that had your grandmother.” Dani’s jaw dropped. “It was your father’s idea, actually, to name you after her. I didn’t have two girls’ names picked out, so I asked him to choose yours. Agent Miller helped save his mother, she took a bullet for his wife…” Marinette shrugged. “It seemed fitting.”

For a moment, Dani was silent. “That’s so cool,” she finally whispered, and her mother smiled.

#where have all the heroes gone and where are all the gods #danielle agreste #ml fanfic #next gen ml #why is this almost 4k it's just people talking

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deckspair · 5 years

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and forever i will hate you, and forever i will love you | Shinobu | Trial 6.12

[ CW: Self-deprecation. Excessively rude and cruel behavior towards other characters. Suicidal ideation under the cut ]

Did that count as another use of the voucher? Shinobu wasn’t really sure. They were kind of bad at not wasting all their questions on small clarifications and rhetorical questions, as their handling of WellnessBot’s post-feast offer had shown. At least it did line up with the follow up Shinobu had been planning.

Hearing the true robots argue, though… It dredged up those feelings Shinobu had been too numb to express immediately. They quietly walked over to where Neo was, holding his hand as the two of them were name-dropped again and again, the facts on blast for everyone to hear: Whatever Akira had felt for the class as a whole, she had grown sentimental in spite of her crimes and her mission. In particular, those two had become siblings to her (and Shinobu immediately downplayed it, because why them? FrogBot must only have meant her and Neo – everyone could see that).

And there was still that uncertainty: How much of that love was genuine, given all that had happened? Were they really family to her, or just substitutes for the ones she lost? When Neo confided in her about his struggles with illness, was she truly listening to him, or did she only see and hear Jean?

“A-Am I supposed to be happy hearing this?”

As shameful as it was to admit it, they were just a little happy to know that she really did care about them, one way or another. It meant that perhaps they were a little more than just an easy pawn to manipulate. It came with its own price, though: Knowing that apparently Shinobu was part of the reason she fell apart at the end. They couldn’t ignore that they were hearing this from FrogBot, too, who made sure to mock her for it while they could.

That last comment, dismissing what they had put Kosuke through, was enough to reignite those muted feelings. A flashover. An explosion. Anger, bright and hot and so unbecoming of Shinobu that it felt too similar to how Junshu and Neo burned out.

Nonoka always did compare them to a phoenix, after all.

“So, what? Are you telling me that personally torturing Nakamura-san was your doing? Independent of her? H-How much else wasn’t her idea, either? The so-called executions? Or was that still hers and you just overstepped the line?Do the people know V-Tan0va dabbles in all this, too!? Heroic pirates of the people, torturing children just to punish them!”

Some horrifying realization grazed the edge of Shinobu’s thoughts: Even if they did find out, they probably wouldn’t care. If terrorists were the only groups freely distributing essential resources for survival, people were unlikely to question where those supplies came from. Who would care about a bunch of privileged kids they’d never met before, when their own child was starving and V-Tan0va was offering them a free meal?

That was a concept to grapple with another time, when (if) Shinobu made it to the surface. For now, they kept their anger laser-focused on those in front of them, and those not present. Voice on the brink of shattering completely, they turned their sights on WellnessBot next.

“And you! You, saying how horrible it is that they turned the snail into a commodity – isn’t that exactly what Hope’s Peak is doing to the survivors? Y-Yes, everyone who is able to should work to help rebuild… but leaving those who aren’t able to rot? Secretly hiding a handful of people on luxury shelters without giving the rest of humanity so much as a warning to what was coming!? I know y-your so-special directive was only to protect a couple dozen kids, but do other lives mean that little to you? To the scientists, to the academy? You’ve turned air into a commodity, for fuck’s sake!”

The world was a distant blur, as if the walls of the ship had broken and all that remained was the vast and empty ocean. All that Shinobu could perceive existing right now was themself, and their anger, and their memories. All they had left was a ghost whispering in their ear, equal parts pitying and envious. Why was Shinobu, weak and cowardly, the one to have survived out of billions?

The person they were most angry at was themself. But the robots and Akira came pretty close after that.

“The w-worst part is…? I can’t trust either of you. I don’t want to hear this from either of you! You’re both just projecting your own feelings on wh-whatever she was thinking, trying to make up reasons why she did what she did because she can’t say it herself, and that’s – that’s all we can do! That’s all I can do!

Why isn’t she here to say all this!? Why didn’t she stay here to explain it herself – confess, or lie, or justify it, or any of that! Were we not worthy of it? Not worth it for her to even show up!? Or did she really care too much, and she couldn’t bear to face us? Is that what you mean by me ruining her!? Is that why I didn’t deserve to say goodbye to her, to anyone else!?

Tell me! Why am I still alive!? Why me, why not all the other people here who mattered!? Was it just because I was a favorite? Or because everyone hated each other more than they hated me? Or is it because I was lucky and fortunate, like she always said? If I’m so lucky, why is my family missing? Why didn’t anyone else think they were worth saving!? Why was… why am I… w-why was I the one worth it…?”

There wasn’t an answer to any of that. Even if she was here, there wouldn’t be an answer for something like that, and Shinobu knew it. They didn’t say all of that expecting any sort of response. They had descended into screaming for the sake of it, in lieu of taking these revelations in stride.

The ocean, vast and cold and full of the decay of humans, stayed silent.

Their energy had been spent. Screaming, sobbing, venting. They burned themself out on the injustice of all that had happened. Hope’s Peak picking and choosing who deserved to live. V-Tan0va taking their anger out on children who hadn’t even asked to be saved. Akira killing every one of them before herself dying before anyone could make her answer for it. Shinobu surviving. Not living, not thriving, but simply not dying, even though they’d been an easy target from day one.

Even if there was no closure in it, there was finality. This was all they would ever have, and they could either get on that shuttle and leave, or let it all end here. Shinobu wavered, having emptied themself of all their strength with their outburst. Subtly, they grasped the nearest podium with their free hand, trying to steady themself.

“…and… and what now? You wanted us t-to learn the full the full answer? The whos and whys and hows? A summary?

A th-third world war happened. H-Hope’s Peak knew it was coming but was more concerned about protecting its donors than humanity. We were sheltered too, but our loved ones – most of our loved ones – had to fend for themselves. V-Tan0va contacted Akira-kun, or she contacted them, a-and they gave her the resources to… to murder us. They took our supplies and left her a robot and a directive. Six of us died in th-the raid – the rest of us had our memories repressed and were put into the pods until it was convenient to let us out. A-And now there’s some mystery ship heading towards us and I don’t know if it’s V-Tan0va coming to finish the job or Hope’s Peak trying to cover up our existence.

Is that what you wanted us to know?”

It seemed Shinobu was done talking in circles. The sooner the class got out of here, the sooner they could pick up the pieces.

And yet.

A thought came to them, so clear, so lucid. It hurt in how sharp it stood across the blurred world around Shinobu, and it hurt that it felt like more than just an intrusive blip on the radar, not worth further consideration. It hurt that it stuck in them so easily:

Do we really want to leave?

It… It didn’t scare Shinobu as much as they thought it would. Thinking something like that, and then thinking of a plan – it didn’t scare them. It would be fast. Faster than whatever torture V-Tan0va would inflict on the survivors, faster than withering under Hope’s Peak’s cruel commands, faster than suffocating and starving on the surface.

(Faster than the one final elephant in the room, the one last topic that Shinobu refused to be the first to speak about, but—)

But.

In the next clear, sharp, lucid thought, they knew. If there was even a chance that home still existed out there, even if under the heel of the academy, then Shinobu needed to go find out what happened to their family. Even if just to say goodbye. Because if there was one thing here that had been consistent, it was that Shinobu had missed every single chance to say goodbye to the people here who mattered. The people they loved, they people they hated, all gone before Shinobu could tell them how important they had been to them.

(And—)

And if their family still existed out there, if there was even one Matsuba or Marukichi still alive, then Shinobu didn’t want to put them through that, too.

Shinobu leaned towards Neo, careful not to put much weight against him. They just needed physical contact for now, some proof that, for just a little while longer, there were people in this world that might still love Shinobu, unconditional and without pity or hate. And they wanted Neo to know the same went for him.

Just a little while longer. Please.

#chapter 6 #trial 6 #shinobu #submission

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linleywild · 7 years

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If the catwalk collections for Autumn/Winter 2018 truly herald next season’s styles, we are all likely to be wearing face masks or head coverings come Christmas. In a series of shows, from Erdem and Richard Quinn, to Standish KA WA KEY, designers conjured with clothing as a form of disguise and camouflage to a degree that I have not noticed in recent years.[1] Working on a book about the history of fancy dress costume, this theme immediately stood out and made me think: what is it about the mask that makes it seem so relevant and appropriate right now?

Much of the immediate commentary on the catwalk collections for Autumn/Winter 2018 focused on the apparent conservatism of the designers’ creativity. A convenient explanation for the (relative) lack of exuberance and joie de vivre was the pervasive feeling of ennui that we all seem to feel, as reports on conservation, humanitarian, economic and political crisis recur throughout global news cycles. In some cases, designers acknowledged the malaise and angst as a creative spur for their sartorial outlook. In his last show for Burberry, Christopher Bailey focused on ‘Time’ and heterogeneity, endeavouring to celebrate ‘a patchwork of characters and identities’. Hussein Chalayan’s menswear collection was titled ‘Périphérique’, after the highway that surrounds Paris, and focused on ‘the tensions that ensue from unintegrated immigration’.[2]

Acknowledged or not, a sense of menace and unease seemed to darken the message of many of next season’s collections, and I think this goes a long way to explain models’ covered, or at least partly concealed, heads and faces.

The mask probably has as many meanings as it does permutations. In some cultures, masks can be transformative and change the essence of its wearer, temporarily rendering them divine. In other cultures, the mask provides its wearer with a ‘breathing space’ as they seek some form of privacy in a crowded urban environment. For many people, the mask is better known as a facilitator of fun and mischief, as it (partially) conceives its wearer and consequently permits them to break or bend accepted norms of behaviour.

The literature on the form and role of face masks and head coverings is necessarily extensive because most of the world’s cultures incorporate elements of facial concealment in their rituals and festivities, and have done from an early stage in their development. Red deer skulls, for example, carved into a human face mask, have been found in England and date from the Mesolithic period, between c.10000 and 5000 BCE (below, from Cambridge Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology).[3] Today, the most visually striking examples of face masks (for a western audience, at least) probably come from West Africa, and here the scholarly literature is particularly rich.[4] But as Alison Kinney has shown in hood, the wearing of masks and appearance-altering headwear by groups as diverse as the Ku Klux Klan and teenagers, who conceal their identity beneath hoodies, is no less arresting in the west.[5]

The wearing of masks – however diverse the design and context – has (at least) one common element. Across cultures, chronology and geography, masks and head coverings are typically worn during a period of that anthropologist Victor Turner would call liminal, a ‘betwixt and between’ stage when conventional patterns of human behaviour and interaction are partially suspended and possibly inversed.[6] The donning of mask or head covering – whether worn as part of a public ceremony, or worn to scare people who are not welcome within a community, or worn to escape the pressures of one’s life for the duration of a party – commences a period of time that allows the wearer a physical and psychological space to (re)affirm or repudiate their place and role within the community.

The idea of social and political dislocation that came to be associated with the mask made it a problematic item of dress for governments and law enforcement agencies around the world. Not surprisingly, therefore, law codes from the Middle Ages to modernity frequently prohibit the wearing of ‘visors’ or ‘disguises’.[7] In researching my book, I learned that it is against the law to wear face masks in New Orleans beyond Mardi Gras today. Consequently, I am inclined to suggest that we have become socialised to associate the wearing of a mask with times of unease and uncertainty. This, I think, explains why it appeared, talisman-like, in a number of catwalk collections earlier this year.

The connection between societal angst and aberrant and innovative fashion is, of course, not straightforward. For example, the conventionally-held view that Christian Dior’s A-line skirt of 1947 did constitute a ‘New Look’ after the Second World War is now downplayed. The silhouette of the couturier’s designs may have been more accomplished and strident than that of his peers, but he was nonetheless indebted to them for inspiration; in this sense, Dior was more ‘in step’ with contemporary designs than an outright trendsetter. Nevertheless, a number of scholars, including Francesca Granata, Adam Geczy and Viki Karaminas and Therèsa M. Winge, are increasingly inclined to view the conception, creation and consumption of (contemporary) clothing and dress accessories as a form of (critical) commentary on society and politics.[8] Cognisant of the period in which designers, buyers, makers and models are living, these authors are more inclined to acknowledge the likelihood that incongruent forms of dress and appearance reflect social traumas or crises; Whinge, for example, argues that the ‘grotesque imagery and bodies-out-of-bounds’ aesthetic that was evident in the fashions of the 1980s was ‘influenced by feminism’s desire to open up and question gender and bodily norms … It was also tied to the AIDS epidemic.’ She suggests that ‘Experimental fashion often mediated the fears of contagion and the obsessive moral policing of bodily borders that characterised the 1980s and part of the 1990s and cannot be read separately from the powerful discourses of contagion, bodies and health surrounding the AIDS crisis’.[9]

In a similar vein, I think the prevalence of facial masks and headwear in the Autumn/Winter 2018 catwalk collections is a response to an ill-defined but ever-present feeling of unease. The incorporation of elements of disguise in contemporary fashions is not new, so what we are witnessing is perhaps more a difference of degree than kind. I am also not inferring that all designers to feature head coverings are, or were, fully cognisant of the mask’s myriad meanings. As Anne Hollander, among others, has indicated before, this is most likely an example of the ‘zeitgeisty’ nature of fashion; its ability to convey and articulate ideas that a majority perceive, deeply but dimly. The face mask, because of it polyvalence, is perhaps an ideal fit for designers when society’s messages become muddled.

[1] I wrote about this theme in relation to Vivienne Westwood’s A/W 2013 collection. See, Benjamin Wild, ‘Draped in the Past’, History Today, 63:9 (September 2013), 4-5.

[2] https://fashiontv.nz/2018/01/10/chalayan-lfw-men-aw-2018/.

[3] Dušan Borić et al., ‘The limits of the body’, The Body In History: Europe from the Palaeolithic to the Future (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 37 (fig. 11).

[4] For example, I Am Not Myself: The Art of African Masquerade, ed. Herbert M. Cole (Los Angeles: Museum of Cultural History, University of California, 1985); John W. Nunley, Moving With The Face of The Devil (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1987); Phyllis Galembo, Maske (New York: Aperture, 2016).

[5] Alison, Kinney, hood (London: Bloomsbury, 2016).

[6] For an introduction to Turner’s work, see The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure (New Brunswick and London: Aldine Transaction [1969], 2008); idem, The Anthropology of Performance (New York: PAJ Publications, 1987).

[7] For example, Ronald Hutton, The Stations of the Sun: A History of the Ritual Year in Britain (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 11-12, 26

[8] Francesca Granata, Experimental Fashion: Performance Art, Carnival and the Grotesque Body (London: I.B. Tauris, 2017); Adam Geczy and Viki Karaminas, Critical Fashion Practice: From Westwood to Beirendonck (London: Bloomsbury, 2017); Therèsa M. Winge, Body Style (London: Berg, 2012).

[9] Whinge, Body Style, 2.

New blog post, reflecting on the prevalence of face masks and headwear on the A/W 2018 catwalk. If the catwalk collections for Autumn/Winter 2018 truly herald next season’s styles, we are all likely to be wearing face masks or head coverings come Christmas.

#Masks; Costume; Fashion; Catwalk; AW18

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