#learning to manage our worst selves

[comradeocean]

I didn't not enjoy the bear s2, but 2 fucked up things that bother me a lot: 1. Ebra, and sort of relatedly, 2. the show's complete inability to take an actual fucking position on the exploitative nature of the service industry.

on 1: the writing sets Ebra up with the beginnings of an arc but doesn't go anywhere with it until ep 8. there are these gestures towards filling in a backstory (Ebra's clumsiness, the roughshod nature of his skill or lack thereof, his inability to recalibrate in this new environment, his initial dread of uniforms after being fine w the new chef blues Syd and Carmy instituted in s1), which are subsequently abandoned and rendered meaningless in favour of his contrite, apologetic reappearance in ep 8, where he is the one narratively required to make amends for not being up to the task.

for his failings (of not being able to handle navigating institutionalised education bc of war trauma? bc of it being in a language he's still struggling to learn? bc of his age? the condition of his body? his background? we don't fucking know. it doesn't actually matter. we just know he bombed and let Tina (everyone) down), he's relegated to the drive through window. the implication: get w the program or get left in the dust. and why not? they gave him all the necessary resources, the opportunities to /better/ himself, so of course it's on him he's no longer qualified for meat prep, in that fancy new kitchen w equipment that actually fucking works.

Tina made it, right? good fortune is for those who are prepared to receive it. not our (Syd/Carmy/Sugar, the viewers at home sitting proxy, as always, in the position of management) problem Ebra couldn't hack it. it is what it is. some ppl can't deal w things changing. sad. they oughta be grateful there's a position left for them. allowances are being made, after all. generosity and sentiment on the strength of shared history.

that's the viewpoint suggested by the writing in the show.

and moving onto point 2, bc this, too - not hacking it, his perpetual self-sabotage, self-victimisation - was gonna be Richie's fate. until he goes on his own journey of self-actualization accomplished via the Cinderella magic of... internalizing the ethos of artisinal servitude.

yes, the form of labour is regimented and punishing and fucking abusive, but messy ppl who need some semblance of order and purpose in their live are predisposed to excuse and even justify the worst of its excesses bc yeah! their lives can be made materially and psychologically better in certain ways, for having taken a sip of the koolaid. they can, for once, be doing work they personally find meaningful. they can even thrive. 

so who's to say if it's actually good or bad! plus don't the middle aged middle classed high school teachers of middle america deserve some luxury? a treat! (as if that's the average clientele of such restaurants bffr!!!!)

is that not the takeaway from these 2 seasons? we are rooting for Syd and Carmy. we are rooting for the survival, nay, success of their fine dining establishment. we want them to beat the odds! we want them to turn this failing shithole filled w sad broken people into a high performing marvel of the American hospitality industry where everyone strives for excellence in all things, bringing only their best selves to work blah blah blah

like, if I were to use the vocabulary reserved for descriptions of enemy states, Richie's turnaround literally reads as the success story of getting shipped out for re-education: a recalcitrant, disruptive element undergoes ideological and thought reform through labour, and returns a model worker fully committed to the leadership and advancement of the cause.

what is the cause? The Bear, obvsly. but more generally, something to do w the virtue of self-mastery, self-perfection, self-improvement, whatever. bc it seems to me so many of the conflicts explored in the show come back to this.

in Richie's arc, compliance within a system where the power a customer or head-chef holds over you might as well be boundless becomes sanctified, as servility is elevated to a kind of craft. even an art form. his initial unhappiness about being put in such a relationship, and to feel demeaned by it, is framed as an attitude problem of insufficient self-regard - if you loved yourself enough, had enough confidence in yourself and yr skills, you wouldn't bristle at this level of labour discipline, or interpret conforming to such standards as harsh.

and the thing is, a big part of the hype the show got last season was for its honest clear-eyed depiction of the restaurant industry. it was praised for being thoughtful about grief, and various kinds of trauma, and how toxic working environments are created and fed by addiction and cycles of abuse. like Truffaut who quipped there are no antiwar movies that don't glamourize war, it's easy for depictions of the brutal pace of modern high-end dining to turn into competence porn.

how the writing, particularly by season 2 and Richie's arc makes me want to interpret the way the show makes sense of this tension is by leaning into psychosocial explanations. ultimately, individuals are the vector by which dysfunction spreads, dysfunction instilled in them by other people. the role the system plays recedes ever more into the background. there's a displacement. in the final analysis, the problem is not the problem, the problem is not being an adequate-to-the-problem problem solver.

the consensus after season 2 is that Carmy needs to work on himself. (and if they're being generous, of course Sydney and the others too) everyone needs sooooo much therapy, goes the common-sense wisdom about almost everything. I mean, yeah, no shit, Carmy is so fucked up. but I don't know what kind of abrafuckingcadabra therapy ppl know about that would make the pressures of keeping your head above water not soul destroying, like, in this economy??

it is almost too funny, that little paean to service that compares hospitality and hospitals. the health industry and precarious service work, two features of the economy that are def not in crisis nor create crises. 

and there's every indication we are meant to read him straight, more or less like honestly, now that I'm thinking about it more, it makes me want to puke.

there's the part about training ppl not to see their exploitation, but even welcome it, finding self-worth in the very adherence to this hierarchy. there's the pure distilled ideology of this whole... upgrade being seen as progress, as unquestioned, inevitable, of course that's what Carmy (and Syd) want and have always wanted.

it's not quite enough to make me stop watching. I'm reserving full judgement until after season 3 (feels like something I said last yr, abt s2)

bc we don't know about the other shoe yet, after ep 10. what happens to Richie? what if he lets the koolaid curdle, what if it grows sour and mouldy. maybe Marcus rejects this non choice! and quits! maybe the restaurant fails! maybe the triumph of their (Syd, Carmy, The Bear) commercial success is shown to be achieved through the thorough and continual destruction of other kinds of value, and no one is actually made richer for it. maybe the contradictions won't be reduced to the faintest shadows of narrative handwringing - but at what cost! oh look where they came out of, how could it have been otherwise!

or maybe we'll get more of this thoughtful plausible deniability chaos that pretends nuance is about showing something tragically ironic [every second counts amirite] absent any possibility of refusal and that somehow the power of interpretation is in the hands of the viewers, who are free to evaluate as they see fit all sorts of claims all given equal weight and reality, but who are still left, at the end of everything, only with ennobled suffering.

[kny-stardust]

Chapter 18 – Alliance

Word Count: 2042

Summary: Meeting an expected group of demons and humans, you form an unlikely alliance with them, for the sake of your siblings. But things are never easy. There’s always a price to pay.

“Impressive.” You hear Kanae say. “If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe these sleeping cuties were throwing a tantrum just now.” You giggle at her words.

“I raised these two when my mother had to take care of my father.” You say while running your fingers through your brother's hair. “Since they are pretty much small children again, it's not that hard to calm them down.” You tell her before bowing slightly, which was your limit since those two were resting their heads on your legs. “Once again, I'm deeply sorry for the trouble they caused. They've never done this before.”

What you don't mention is that they are bigger and with superhuman strength when compared to their past selves. It wasn't easy to take samples from either of them. They struggled a lot and Tanjiro even kicked Kanao away. You had to scream for them to stop, which shocked them, since you never once screamed, never with them, and not even at their worst tantrums when younger. They stopped resisting and let Shinobu take some blood from them. She left and Kanao followed her, not even sparing you and your family a glance. You then took your time to calm them down, who were crying, especially Nezuko that had never been yelled at. Finally, they fell asleep and you had your chance to talk to Kanae.

“Oh, no. It's okay. Believe me, I've seen worse, both with humans and demons.” The oni said.

“You...” You hesitate before continuing. “Do you all interact with humans very often? I mean, apart from those girls.”

“Yes. Aoi and the other three girls tend to a flower shop while me and my sisters operate a medical facility.” She explains. “Usually, the girls bring someone who's in need and can't pay for medical treatment so that we can take care of them. The only thing we ask from them as payment is to give us a bit of blood, so that we can use it in blood transfusions.”

“So, that's how you feed.” You conclude, to which she nods.

“We'll have to move, unfortunately. I won't risk the children if Kagaya knows we're here.” The oni said with a sad smile.

“Is there something I can do to help?” You ask her, to which she widens her eyes before softening.

“You don't need to bother, (Y/N). It's not the first time we do this, so it's a minor annoyance.” She said.

“Please, let me help.” You begged. “You're searching for a cure, right? I can repay you that way.”

“There are other ways of repaying us.” Kanae said before smiling. “For example, searching for demons who have a high concentration of Ubuyashiki's blood.”

“His blood? But, why?” You tilt your head at those words, confused.

“It's important to develop a cure.” She stood up and walked towards a shelf. “You see, many years ago, when Shinobu and I were being chased by Kagaya's henchmen, we came across this.” She said while showing you something. A parchment, a rather old one.

“What is that?” You asked as you reached out to hold it.

“The way which turned Kagaya into a demon.” She said and you froze on the spot.

“What!?” You screamed, waking both Tanjiro and Nezuko up. “Are you sure?! How... How did you find this?”

“We didn't. It was given to us.” Her response made your eyes go wide. “Back then, we had the help of a rather strange individual. It was them who killed most of Kagaya's henchmen, and it was also them that gave this to us once they've learned that we were trying to develop a cure for demons.” Kanae took it back and placed it on her lap as she sat. “They said that it was this that he used.”

“Is it…” You look at the parchment. “...really?”

“Yes. We confirmed it with Kanao. We managed to turn her into an oni thanks to it, although we had to use our blood to replace the last ingredient, that we couldn’t find.” She explained.

“She wasn't a demon like you? Turned by Kagaya?” You asked her, but she shook her head.

“No. We met her when we found her being thrown out of her home.” Kanae said, her voice becoming lower. “Such a little thing. She was so weak back then. There was no way for her to survive. By that time, we had already made some experiments with what's written here, but we had yet to find one final ingredient. We replaced it with a bit of our blood, and it worked. She survived and became a demon, already free of his control.”

“I see...” You whisper, before smiling. “At least, she's happier here.”

“Yes... She is.” She replied, but her tone was low, uncertain. “Regardless, if you want to help, try gathering demons with his blood. It won't be easy since demons that have larger quantities of his blood... are the ones who gained a great amount of strength from Ubuyashiki himself. I can assure you this: the ones who have the most blood of his are usually the Twelve Demon Moons. I received a lot of blood of his and had yet to meet someone else who could match me outside of the twelve, and even so, I couldn't even hold my ground with those above me. The upper moons... I couldn't even start to hold a candle to them.” She chuckles. “What I'm trying to say is that by doing this you will have to take a lot of risks, however it is the only way to return your siblings to that original form. That alone will be enough already. You don't need to risk yourself more than you already will have to. Do you understand?”

You don't answer her for sometime just looking at your sleeping siblings.

“...even if it's my fault you got discovered?” You whisper, confusing the oni, before she smiles.

“You really don't give up, do you?” She asked with a giggle. “It wasn't entirely your fault, (Y/N). There was no way neither you or Aoi could have known what would happen, nor that you would meet with him. So, there's no need for you to compensate us because of that. However...” Her silence caught your attention, making you look up to her. “If you want to help us so badly, we could use one helping hand or three to move out.” Your face brightens up immediately.

“Really!?” You ask her, your eyes glowing.

“Yes.” She replies with a kind smile. “We already had a place prepared in case we had to move quickly. We'll pack everything tonight and move tomorrow as soon as the sun goes up.”

“But, onis can't move out in the sunlight, right?” You ask her, confused.

“Yes, that’s why it’s the best time to move.” Kanae said. “We have a cart that’s big enough to fit out things and us hidden inside of it. The children will move us out through it. You can help them, and make sure that no demon jumps on us. Would that be okay?”

“Yes! Yes, it would!” You tell her, happy that you can help, which makes her giggle.

“Good.” She nodded before putting the parchment away in her clothes and standing up. “Now, I’ll prepare a room for you to stay in. You should rest for the journey tomorrow. You don’t seem like you have had much sleep lately, do you?”

You are caught off guard by that, but you soon calm down and nod.

“Alright, then. Come with me.” She tells you, walking out of the room, which you follow, with your siblings turned in their smaller form and leads you through the mansion.

Your eyes opened to face the dark room given to you by Kanae and the other girls. A sound nearby had woken you up, kicking your instincts. You still remembered the oni that tried to sneak up to you when you were sleeping on the Final Selection. Not a good memory, however it was good to keep you sharp in any situation. You stop leaning on the chair you were sleeping, looking over to Tanjiro and Nezuko. The window was fully closed, but you could still discern the laying form of your siblings. By their breathing, you can tell they’re still sleeping. How lucky. You tiptoe to take your blade and sneak out of the room, closing the door behind you.

“What are you doing?” A voice behind you makes you draw out your blade, or at least try to, as the person who spoke holds your wrist so you can’t do so.

You turn to her, and notice the oni girl you fought when you first got there. You let go of your breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ah, it’s just you, Kanao.” You tell her. She just stares at you, in silence. You stare back before replying. “I heard a strange sound. I thought it could be something dangerous, so I decided to check.”

“...you’re sharper than you look.” She says before turning away, leaving you stunned where you were.

Just what the hell did she mean with that!?

“...are you just going to stand there?” It’s her that snaps you back to reality, standing at the edge of the staircase. “We have unplanned guests… unpleasant ones…” She tells you before she starts going down, leaving you alone.

You don’t take much time thinking about what it means. You know what it means.

Kagaya’s minions. They’ve finally come.

You rush down the stairs, meeting with Kanao and Shinobu in the entrance. You meet with them, the older oni still with that same smile that creeps you out.

“Oh, my. You’re awake.” She says giggling. “You must be a real deal.” She jokes as you put your shoes on.

“Where are the girls?” You ask them.

“In the basement. Sis is with them, so they must be safe if one of them manage to go past us.” The oni explains as she checks her sharp claws. “What about your siblings?”

“Still sleeping, but Tanjiro will wake up if he feels something is wrong.” You tell her as you stand up. “He’s like that.”

“I see.” She smiles, before holding the handle. “Oh, two more things: stay close to Kanao, you can back each other up; and stay as far as you possibly can from me, ‘kay?”

“Why…?” You ask her. “Wouldn’t it be better if we fought together?”

“Hum… How should I put this…?” Shinobu hums in thought.

“Do it if you don’t wanna die.” Kanao replies, short and rude.

“Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.” She giggles as she opens the door.

You don’t understand what she means, but you don’t have time to as small light alerts you. You bring your sword forward and unsheath it, and you feel something hit the blade. When you look to the side, there’s a strange looking knife on the floor. Where it hits your nodachi, there’s a small dent. You have a feeling that this is no good and you should worry.

“Greetings.” A pair of identical voices catch your attention as the door fully opens.

In the open garden in front of the mansion, you see a pair of girls with light purple, sharp eyes and short, straight, white hair, using identical kimonos. They were the girls that were with Kagaya and that lady earlier, and they weren’t alone. Around them, there were a dozen or so people using strange black clothes, including masks that hide their faces.

“My, oh, my. If it isn’t the devil’s spawns.” Shinobu said cheerfully as she walked outside. “Tell me, have you gotten lost from your daddy?” Both you and Kanao follow her, the door closing behind you. “We can take you back to him, but you might have to wait a bit before we can send him to the same hell hole you all came from.” The way Shinobu’s voice became cruel and cold gives you chills.

“Silly traitor and your little pets.” One of the girls says.

“You won’t pass tonight.” The other continues.

“Attack!” They say at the same time, and the shadowed figures rush in your direction.

[zaenaris]

The things Shin does for love - ch.271

It’s really interesting what Wakui decided to do with Shin and little by little we are learning something more on the lore of TR universe. It seems that to actively become a time leaper, you need to kill another time leaper. But I guess something is missing because Takemichi didn’t kill anyone, someone pushed him under the train, (and this person could become relevant soon) he presumably died in that timeline, went back to 2005, talked with Naoto about time leaping and coming from the future, they shake hand and of course they have the same desire. In order to work, time leaper and trigger need to agree and to have the same strong desire on something. Then he comes back in a new 2017 where Naoto is alive. Takemichi didn’t chose to become a time leaper. There has to be some condition, or other rules we still don’t know. We will see.

Anyway, I absolutely adore the fact Shin was so desperate that he killed a random guy that was apparently talking nonsense. We are seeing Shin at his absolute worst and not described by Mikey, or Inupi, or other people that idolized him but couldn’t know him in his entirety. His eyes, usually pitch black, are void (just like Mikey with dark impulses) and when he kills himself in front of Haru (poor kid, he was worried for Shin even before witnessing his suicide and had to see all that) and it seems he is either trying to go back to the past killing himself, or is too tired and just wants to end it.

He manages to come back and it seems it’s the day of the accident, but of our current timeline. In fact in this case Shin was at home. We’ll see if this is “our” timeline. Our timeline is  hard to define tho, since Takemichi altered the story a few times. But he never went to back earlier than 2005 and Mikey accident happened earlier so maybe there are some “fixed” events, idk😵‍💫

I wonder at what part of the story Shin decides to involve Wakasa in this mess or if he ends up learning about Shin time leaping by chance. Again, we  will see.

The most evident thing is that the Shin in our “current”  (for the lack of a better term) timeline dies the same way he killed the old time leaper guy. Coincidences?? Does it mean Kazutora could be a time leaper? But he didn’t know (as far as we know) that Shin was a time leaper. Can you inherit the time leaping power if you don’t know you killed a time leaper? Is it just a cruel coincidence?? 

But, was the Shin that died in 2003 future!Shin? Why would have been there if he had managed to save Mikey? Was the Shin that died in 2003 unaware of all the fact?

Oh! Another thing we don’t know if the “past selves” remembers what happens when “future selves” occupy the body of themselves in the past (at least, I don’t think it was ever explained, I could be wrong). Anyway, if it was  never explained, maybe this could be right moment. And what if Shin dies in our timeline unaware of what he did? I need answers

In this chapter, Shin doesn’t need a trigger to leap to the past, but in the end Takemichi didn’t either when he was pushed under the train and went back in 2005. He needed Naoto to come back in 2017 tho, after talking with him. Idk, from this chapter it seems Haru may be the trigger (idk of course, maybe the fact it makes me think about it means it’s too easy and the trigger will be someone else) : maybe in “our timeline”, future!Shin informed Haru about Mikey’s terrible fate (in between the scenes, we never saw them interact “on screen” in ch.241), he believed Shin so he decided he would have done anything to help Mikey. That's why he was happy when Mikey attacked him: the toy was broken and this meant Mikey was safe right? Also, too bad that, apparently, that was the first time the “dark impulses” manifested.  Probably Shin realized something was wrong. But this is too much theory with no evidence, I want to see what actually happened lol

Furthermore, we know that Mikey attacking Haru was Senju’s POV, so something else may have happened. 

Idk, too many questions but everything is so interesting, I’m excited to learn more and  more!

[kneehighboots185]

The last box is finally loaded into the trunk of your car. You’re a mere 10 minutes away from entering a life of your own. As you say goodbye to your parents with a hug, you start to cry, only to quickly brush the tears away.

Boys don’t cry.

This hypothetical is a reality for the 3.7 billion men in the world.

The same hypothetical leads to men being four times more likely to die from suicide than women, discourages them from seeking treatment for their mental health, and increases substance abuse, sexism, and violence.

The emasculating stigma that surrounds men and their feelings are presented to them in subtle ways throughout their entire life. Parents teach their sons to “toughen up” when something goes wrong and to be “brave” like the other boys, but how do these teachings affect them later in life?

When a man expresses pain or sadness, he is often met with expressions like “take it like a man” and other derogatory or homophobic remarks. In turn, another lesson is learned early on in one’s life: keep it quiet.Boys grow into men who are often seen to be less open about their feelings in comparison to women but because they may not talk, does not mean they don’t feel. Despite being culturally more accepting and hopeful that men will share their feelings, the fear of being perceived as anything other than masculine affects our understanding of their emotional state.

Crying is a very healthy expression of feelings such as sadness and disappointment. If we tell boys not to cry, they may begin to suppress, avoid or shut down these emotions, as they are not encouraged to express them.This can lead to boys becoming disconnected from these feelings and absorbing the message that it is not okay for them to have them.

Over the long term, this can have a negative impact on their ability to manage these emotions and, of course, this will have a negative impact on their mental health and possibly on their ability to form close, open and honest relationships as adults. They may also begin to internalise the damaging stereotype that to be a ‘real man’ they need to be tough and invulnerable, which may be completely at odds with their authentic selves, which may be sensitive and gentle.

We cry because it is a healthy release for all of us. It helps us to self-soothe, releases chemicals like oxytocin, endorphins and stress-relieving hormones. It is calming, mood-enhancing, pain-relieving and overall beneficial to our wellbeing. Crying is also considered to be attachment behaviour, encouraging bonds and support from friends and family.When we send children the message that it is okay to feel sad or upset and to cry, and we soothe and comfort them, we are validating their experiences and feelings. That is the first step towards processing these big feelings, recovering from them and learning how to self-soothe. Healthy emotional self-regulation cannot develop unless children are encouraged to express their emotions openly as a starting point.

Patriarchy is not only harmful to women, it also chains men and forces them to behave in a certain way.Why should a child with a scraped and bleeding knee be forced to stop crying because ‘boys don’t cry’? Isn’t it the human instinct to react to pain?

Young boys are taught that they should adhere to masculine ideals and this leads to an emotional vacuum in their later years. So terrible are the consequences that they grow up to be men who are afraid to appear caring.This suppression of emotions leads to aggression and the inability to form healthy relationships in the long run.In fact, the worst insult you can throw at a boy is to question his masculinity. This insult is often paid back with violence – young men are encouraged to fight and prove their machoness.

BOYS DON'T CRY! BUT I ASK WHY?

[dpomalescreative]

How to become your own Boss! Why would you want to do that when being a Boss has always carried such a negative connotation. So why has this saying stuck around for so long? The word has always epitomized a worst case scenario in the job market. The imagery of a Boss has always been that of a mean and brutal individual, male or female, but predominantly male. And when we speak about a Boss its about how Narcissistic or Egocentric they are.  Its about how awful they are. Yet when we speak of a Leader we speak highly about leading and lifting others up not bossing others or bringing them down. When we think about the healthy environment that comes with a good leader we endeavor to find such a environment and such an individual to work for. So why don't we change that cliche phrase to...How to become your own Leader vs your own boss! Why not, when that's what we are truly desiring to be or find in our work life. We must learn to be impactful leaders to our employees not a mean and cruel Boss. But it all starts with how we treat ourselves. Understanding and compassion are what we really need and what we truly seek. We need the understanding of our more empathetic selves. We dont need to push ourselves around or too hard! We need to give ourselves a little more slack to make mistakes and learn from them or to endeavor and succeed from our decisions. Making mistakes and failing is all a part of growing.  A Boss will not tolerate mistakes and will micro manage you to death, always looming over your shoulder not allowing you to grow and flourish in your position. While learning from those mistakes and failures is what makes it time well spent vs time wasted. No one anywhere wishes to waste time. A Boss would not care about you, your time or your growth. While a Leader would embrace you as an equal, appreciate your time and help you to grow. We choose to believe that our time is of value, so why would we let ourselves diminish our own value or self worth? The saying just seems to mislead us in our intentions. We hardly if ever let people Boss us around in our personal lives so why would we do it in business. #beaboss #bealeader #linkedin #blogging #topicoftheday (at DPomales Creative Services) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgNHs85JkvK/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[parasite-core]

Last night in Pathfinder we saved the “Lemon King”, fought shadow duplicates of our worst selves, and finally regained our lost memories.

Everything’s been leading up to this.

We arrived on the dream moon, where a prison run by Moon Beasts was located. Igil managed to intimidate the Dream Ghoul guard into not interfering with us busting open the front gate, and we entered the facility. We convinced three Denizens of Leng that we were “Riot Exterminators” a-la Futurama, and were directed to go upstairs to talk to the prison warden to get a contract worked out.

First, however, we went to the next room over and ran into a Denizen of Leng who ranted at us that we were there to take her emerald. At which point she held out her emerald, yelled “chaos control”, the DM began playing “Live and Learn”, and the entire thing was a meme fight because the character in question literally had an item called a Chaos Emerald and there was no way any of us were taking it seriously because there were two Sonic fans in the group. Berin killed her in one hit with his vorpal scimitar anyways. Ileark got to keep the Chaos Emerald while in the Dream Lands.

After that bit of weirdness, the party headed upstairs. They heard the Warden telling them to report to him in their heads, not realizing they weren’t his guards. They came up the stairs. The moment the Moon Beast realized they weren’t his men, he threw a Shadow Evocation Fireball at them. It didn’t get through Ileark’s spell resistance, Igil and Jo disbelieved it, while Dia and Berin believed the illusion, and Berin failed his reflex save and took the full brunt of the fireball.

The party was immediately going to go on the offensive for him attacking first, but Berin stopped them when the Moon Beast showed confusion over them saying they *had* come to help him but now we’re going to kill him. Berin, despite getting the most hurt out of all of us, managed to keep his cool and calmly talk to the Warden, finding out that he’d attacked in sight because he thought they’d been sent by the faction of the other Moonbeast who was leading a coup on the other end of the facility to kill him. He wasn’t terribly apologetic about the misunderstanding, but he did offer some items to make up for it if we really were there to help with his situation. He gave us the keys to the facility, and showed us a perfect model of the facility. The biggest issue was going to be getting to the other faction’s side of the prison. There was a moving hall between us and them that was currently out of alignment, and the controls were on the enemy’s side. We decided since we had a perfect map of it, Ileark could use that knowledge to dimension door up into the control room above the hall that would connect to the moving hallway, along with someone to watch his back. They’d both be made invisible by Igil, just incase. They’d flip the switch, then hunker down while the second group made their way to them.

It sounded like a good plan. Berin decided that Jo should go with Ileark ‘for some quality bonding’. Igil revealed at this time that he had an ability he kept forgetting about that would allow him to link himself mentally with everyone for a short time, so he mentally bonded all of them minus Dia so they could communicate over a distance. Then Ileark dimension doored himself and Jo upstairs to the control room.

Jo secured the room while Ileark flipped the switch. The sound of the hallway shifting was loud. The entire prison could definitely hear it. Group B rushed across to try to get to Group A as quickly as possible. Berin got sidetracked, however, when a prisoner began calling for help. It was a woman with a scarred face. After talking to her he recognized her name—she was the big game hunter they’d heard about in one of the previous Dream Lands—the one they’d contemplated killing and giving to the Ratlings as food >.>

Anyways she was here. Berin said he’d be back for her later, for now he needed to clear out the prison. But he was going to leave some reading material for her. He left her with a pamphlet to the Sarenrite faith. Then he went to catch up with Igil, who had been heading towards the stairs, more focused on making sure the others were okay than in checking on the prisoners for now.

Berin, Igil, and Dia went up the stairs, and at the top saw a woman working on a machine. The woman had an aura of terror emanating from her, although the trio managed to resist it. The woman spoke to them, talking about how her machine was broken and she was repairing it. She asked who they were and why they were here. They once again gave the excuse about being riot exterminators. At the same time, Jo burst out of the other door to try to catch the woman off guard at Igil’s mental prompting.

Unfortunately, the woman could see invisibility and wasn’t caught off guard—nor did she believe the bluff. Because she wasn’t a human woman at all, but a Nightmare Dragon.

She hit our entire party with a breath weapon that painfully pulled forward our worst emotions and impulses, tearing us apart from the inside. Jo and Berin went in to attack her up close and personal, while Ileark stayed on healing duty and threw spells from a distance to little effect, Dia kept the party buffed, and Igil threw his own spells to greater effect. In the middle of the chaos, the dragoness summoned four living torture devices to attack the party under her command as well.

She didn’t get long to use them, as Jo decided she had enough of this. As the dragon flew by and attacked her, Jo stabbed her, leapt back, and then leapt at the dragoness and stabbed her right through the chest with her spear, cleanly slaying the dragon.

Which only left a slow grind through the living torture devices for a few rounds of clean up before we were finished and ready to move on.

We knew from having seen the map where the solitary confinement cells were, and we figured that was probably where our good friend The Yellow King The Lemon King was. We were right on the money, in a bubble of Silence, King waited in a cell. We used a parchment and quill to converse with him, and explained that we needed to take care of the Moonbeast who held him captive first. Just in case. We didn’t want them coming after him again. He wasn’t pleased with being left in the cell, but we gave him some cards to pass the time and that seemed to distract him.

We went past the bubble of silence and rushed the staircase, using our Operation Uninvited Guests on the two bloody creatures who looked like women with overly sharp smiles in the next room. One went down by Jo’s hand immediately. The other was blinded by Ileark and had her brain scrambled by Igil but was still standing.

While we focused on the sharp smiled woman, Igil ran to the door and threw it open. As he suspected, the Moonbeast was on the other side. He threw a spell at it and disabled it for a few rounds, giving the rest of us time to take care of his minion and to then go after him at our leisure. Dia killed the minion, and Jo darted into the other room and smashed the Moonbeast, deflating him like a sad balloon on her spear.

Off the Moonbeast we retrieved another set of keys, which we figured would probably unlock Lemon King’s cell. We returned to our guide, and finally freed him.

We also freed the big game hunter after Berin had a talking to with her and convinced her to consider using her skills to protect towns from wild animals instead of trophy hunting, since she could still make money that way and it would be helping people instead of hurting innocent creatures.

We took the Lemon King and left on the giant flying creature we’d come in on. The creature was happy we’d finished so quickly—it gave him plausible deniability about having ever come here.

Seeing as the trip back would be a while, King suggested we wake up and return later if we had things we needed to do in the waking world. We agreed that seeing as we’d been in the Dream Land for days now in Dream Land time, it was probably a good idea for us to wake up and check on the ship.

When we woke up, only a day had passed in real time. So we went about our regular day, Igil worked on some sewing, Jo and Ileark worked on the ship, and Berin hung out below deck. Then the night came. And we knew the time had come. Tonight we were going to finally, really, get our memories back.

Dia told us she was not going to be joining us tonight. This seemed too personal for her to be a part of. And also, given that Weiralie had come after the Lemon King to get to us, she feared the ship might be in danger while we sleep if she wanted to interfere one last time. So she would watch over us. We agreed that this was the most prudent option.

So the four original members of our group joined the ritual, and for one final time we entered the Dream Land. We once again found ourselves in the sunny desert outside of the Caravanserai. Only this time it wasn’t in ruins—it was a bustling market, alive and well travelled. We found King amongst the crowd, talking to some vendors. He greeted us happily, informing us that in the Dream Land it had been twenty years since he had last seen us, but that he’d known we’d eventually return. In the meantime he’d been rebuilding the Caravanserai, because he’d decided a king deserved an opulent castle, and so now it was once again bustling like it had been at its height.

He retrieved some gourds of Endure Elements so we could safely cross the desert, then began leading us out into the bright sandy heat.

After hours of travel, we came upon a hut shaded by a tree. King said he would stay behind, and wished us luck. His advice was to be polite despite any eccentricities, try not to insult him, and whatever we did *do not* fight the Mad Poet. We would lose. Greater people than us had tried and lost.

We took the advice to heart and moved forward. As we approached the hut, however, the tree shading the hut came to life. We noticed in horror that it’s fruits looked like our faces. The fruits opened their mouths and wailed in our voices. Jo tried to make a break for the door, but froze as she got close to the tree. Instead of moving past it, she was compelled to reach up into the tree and pull down a fruit shaped like her head…and eat it. Her mind went foggy in confusion and wisdom damage from the fruit’s poison.

Igil took note of the danger and flew around the tree, trying to get to the door of the hut. He got smacked by a branch in retribution. Ileark dimensional hopped across the gap and began knocking on the door, requesting the Poet call off his tree—but there was no answer. So Ileark tried throwing his starknife at the plant, but he was out of practice and it went wide. Igil tried knocking on the door, but was suddenly hit by a wave of sweet scent from the tree that drew him towards it—and he also grabbed a fruit that looked like his head and bit into it. Fortunately for him, unlike Jo, the poison didn’t take hold and he tossed the fruit aside, retreating back to the doorway.

Finally Berin made it to the door. He knocked and politely informed the Poet that perhaps he remembered them, and that this time they came bearing seven gifts for him, if he would please let them inside.

At last the door opened. The Poet told the tree to stand down, as we were guests. He said normally he didn’t meet with people who didn’t defeat his guardian first, but he remembered us, even though he knew we didn’t remember him, and Berin said we came bearing gifts for him. So he would let us enter.

We followed the Poet inside. He asked Igil to lay out the gifts onto a long table he had, and Igil did so. The signet ring, the striped tail, the ghouls king’s skull, the jade idol, the heartstone, the tricorn hat, and the red foot. Seven objects we’d worked tirelessly to obtain from all corners of the Dream Lands.

The Poet asked us each a question, about what we valued most. When we answered, we felt slightly empowered. A token of appreciation for retrieving all seven gifts. (Translation: we got a permanent bonus to one ability score depending on our answer to the question, each answer corresponded to an ability score. Might= strength, swiftness= dexterity, clear headedness= intelligence, etc.)

Afterwards, we were led to a pool. When we looked in, we remembered the last thing that happened before we lost our memories. Being dragged forward one by one, and dunked under the water. The air leaving our lungs, drowning.

It’s no wonder both Igil and Jo panicked at having their heads go under the water in the river before. We all have drowning trauma.

We staggered away from the pool, and as we did the Poet told us we needed to face the worst part of ourselves, because we didn’t want to remember what we’d done. From the pool rose four shadows. A vampiric aristocrat Berin. A night hag Ileark. A ragged butler Igil. A bloodthirsty monster Jo.

Each shadow went after its counterpart. Shadow!Igil never got a chance to act, as Igil stunned him for 3 rounds with his Mind Thrust, correctly supposing that he himself had the lowest chance of succeeding a save against his own attack. Shadow!Berin pulled out his own Vorpal Scimitar and began a deadly dance with Berin, mocking the Sarenite’s weakness. Shadow!Jo went all in against Jo, beating her down full force—which was a problem because we hadn’t healed after the last fight, except to heal the wisdom damage the plant’s poison had done to Jo. Berin, Jo, and Igil were all going into this already hurting badly. Shadow!Ileark tried to hit the party with a mass doom spell, but the party was more willful than he’d expected. Ileark told his night hag self that he was under estimating them, to which the shadow mocked him that he knew that wasn’t the truth. He knew all he was good at was running away.

Ileark stepped back and used multiple uses of channel energy to heal the party a good amount with both a swift and standard action, giving his teammates a fighting chance. Igil paid him back by striking Shadow!Ileark with a Mind Thrust, since Shadow!Igil was out of commission.

Berin nearly crit on Shadow!Berin, but Shadow!Ileark altered fate to force a reroll on the confirmation roll and it failed to confirm, keeping the vorpal blade from activating. Fortunately, Ileark reasoned he would only be able to do that once, since Ileark himself can only do that once a day. Shadow!Ileark tried to claim he might be able to do it more often since he’s better than the real Ileark, but Ileark didn’t believe him, since altering the threads of fate isn’t exactly easy to do, even for experienced clerics of fate.

It didn’t end up mattering, because after Shadow!Ileark made a grab for Ileark and tried and failed to blind him with Touch of Blindness, Igil crushed him with a final Mind Thrust—the first shadow down. For a moment to the shadow he no longer looked like a night hag, and Igil did, as his mind was destroyed. In his final moment he accused Igil of being a traitor, before falling back into the pond and returning to water. Ileark thanked Igil for the assist, and Igil brushed it off joking that he would tell Alazhra that he killed a Desnan he knew.

While this was happening, Jo was struggling with her other self. Shadow!Jo was giving her a beating and was proving hard to hit back in return. As Shadow!Ileark fell, Jo fell unconscious.

Ileark ran to her side, dropping a spell to cast Cure Critical Wounds, and then doubling up on it by also channeling energy for everyone including Jo.

Shadow!Jo didn’t take kindly to this. She decided the best way to hurt Jo was to go through her annoying little friends.

Suddenly Ileark found himself on the danger end of a version of Jolyn’s morningstar yet again. He went from full HP to 16 in a single full round of attacks. And Shadow!Jo locked eyes with Igil, just a step away, and promised the squishy psychic was next. Igil couldn’t do anything, as his shadow self has become in stunned and had hit him with a spell that left him dazed for a round, leaving him momentarily defenseless.

Ileark saw that he needed to run to heal himself. He couldn’t just step back, because he knew Jo’s fighting style—she was good at following spellcasters who try to distance themselves with a 5-ft-step. He needed to dimensional hop away. But he wasn’t going to leave Igil. So he used up every bit of movement he had left of his dimensional hop to grab Igil as well and hop them only 15 feet back—far enough that if Shadow!Jo wanted to go after them, she’d have to incur an attack of opportunity from Jo. Then he licked his wounds, patching himself up just a little.

Shadow!Jo took the bait, charging at Igil. Unfortunately when Jo and Ileark swung at her, they both missed.

While all of this was happening, Berin had taken care of Shadow!Berin, having fought him back fair and square, no vorpal blade needed. He’d switched to his Sun Blade just to make a point, and his point was very much made when he staked the vampiric noble version of himself through the heart, and the shadow melted back into the water.

Jo told Berin to go after Shadow!Igil, who was running to put some distance between himself and the rest of the combatants. Berin overpowered Shadow!Igil, and none of the dark psychic’s abilities had any effect on him due to his strong will. In an act of desperation, Shadow!Igil cast invisibility on himself and ran.

Unfortunately for him, Igil still had the gem of Trueseeing.

As Shadow!Igil fled, the real Igil ducked away from Shadow!Jo and fished out the gem, using it to aim one final Mind Thrust at his counterpart.

Nothing flashy. Just putting an end to that part of himself.

That left only Shadow!Jo.

Jo went after her Shadow self when Shadow!Jo went after Igil before. Without Shadow!Igil to fight, Berin joined the fight against Shadow!Jo.

Shadow!Jo decided to go all in against Jo.

Jo, after taking the hit, mocked her. “That’s our problem. We don’t think.” She said, as she whirled around to flank with Berin, because Shadow!Jo in her singleminded run at Jo hadn’t taken into account her positioning. Jo drew back her morningstar, and with one final swing, reduced Shadow!Jo to water. In her final moments Shadow!Jo lamented that she wasn’t strong enough.

The way was open. The pool was clear. Our memories awaited us. Jo stepped forward, more to clean herself off than to look into the pool, but the moment her eyes met her reflection she froze. One by one we joined her at the bank of the pool and looked into our reflections. And one by one we remembered.

***

Ileark remembered that he was left to be raised by two Desnan clerics who had always prayed for a child, as they couldn’t have one of their own. He’d always known growing up that he wasn’t their biological child, because he didn’t look like anyone else in the village—he had darker skin and different hair. But his parents loved him as much or more than any other parents could, they believed he was a blessing sent by Desna. Even when he chose a new name—the name he goes by now, Ileark, they took to it and his choice of pronouns immediately, because they loved the gift they had been given more than anything else, and there was no way he could be imperfect. So he lived as happy a life as any child could, raised by his parents to follow in their footsteps as the small village’s cleric someday. Life was good. Until one day, when he was out in the fields, and he saw her. Lurking at the forest’s edge. A being he could see but couldn’t quite see, who he knew in his blood he moment he laid eyes on, although he didn’t know how he knew their connection deep inside of himself. He ran. And he was so afraid that he hid it from his parents. For months he filed down the claws that began growing in, and didn’t tell them of the shadow lurking at the edges of his vision. Until one day his mother walked in on him filing down his claws. She had known something had been wrong, but not what. She broke down and told her everything. His parents did not reject him for being some kind of monster as he feared—how could they, he was Desna’s gift to them and they still loved him dearly. They tried their best to protect him instead. But as time passed, things got worse. At night he heard clawing at his window. Livestock disappeared. Crops withered. Small plagues visited the village. Always right after he’d seen the figure in the woods. No one had connected it to him yet, but he feared it was only a matter of time. And he knew that so long as he was in the village, nothing would get better. They would continue to be in danger. Which meant he had to leave.

So he told his parents his fears, and they gave him an idea. Spherewalkers travel the land in Desna’s name experiencing all the world has to offer. Maybe if he left, the being would leave him alone. And he could have fun on his journey. Meet new people. See new places. Try new things. Just…promise to reach out from time to time and keep in touch.

So Ileark packed his things and took to the road, hopeful that a change of scenery would protect him from what had haunted him. But it didn’t. When he stopped shortly in a village to get some books in a local library, she’d appeared again. And when he’d stopped for the night in another village not much farther out from there, she’d appeared and forced Ileark to flee in the night.

From then on he was always moving, careful to travel quickly and to never stay too long. However he met many interesting people in his travels. He stayed with an elven family in Varisia with three sons and a quiet somewhat sad seeming daughter who was interested in his travels. He met a fiery young woman and her much more reserved young friend at a monastery—the young woman kicked him in the shins and ran off, leaving her friend to apologize before running off after her. He met a handsome junior pathfinder member who he had a one-night stand with. He met a band of traveling mercenaries in Isgar, including an ambitious youth who called himself the Crimson Wyvern and his scythe wielding young friend. And he met an alchemist in Cheliax who seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, but who sold him his potions with a wisecrack.

(These are each past PCs but ~20 years before what was before now our earliest campaign. In order: Unae Thandes, Linda Blackwell and Meinus, Rich Rolf, Roland Terrasold, and Maxwell “Sawbones” Orias. All of these except Sawbones were from Rise of the Runelords. Unae’s player and I also decided it’s Ileark’s fault Unae ran away from home and ended up in RotRL now so…oops. As for Rich…it’s half Ileark really would sleep with a handsome stranger who flirted with him and half because it’s funny if he slept with Rich specifically because by RotRL he’s washed up comic relief until he gets himself together by the Hell Arc and becomes a Real Hero.)

Despite all his travels, Ileark could never shake the hag that shadowed him. If he ever slowed down, if he ever failed to move in fast enough, she would always reappear. Then he heard about the Seven Towers from someone in passing, and he decided to travel to them, in the hopes of finally getting rid of her once and for all.

But as he remembered before, this failed. She returned within a day from being banished by the artifact. Ileark was distraught. After how far he’d travelled and all he’d done, he’d come out empty handed, still as haunted as before. He knows his travels weren’t specifically to find a way to get rid of Her, but still…he’d really believed he’d found a solution, and now it looked like there was really no escaping the shadow that constantly stalked him.

In his sorrow, Ileark walked into the desert. And it was out there, tired and beaten, that he saw a ship approaching. One manned by creatures he now knew to be Denizens of Leng. He tried to run, as he always does, but they chased him down. They were so much more powerful than he’d expected. They bound him, kept him from using the holy markings across his hands, and dragged him onto the ship. The last thing he saw was the shadowy form of his hag mother.

For the first time, he saw her turn and walk away.

He remembered on the ship meeting Berin. Despite their grim situation, Berin tried his best to keep spirits up. Ileark liked the dhampir immediately. Then he remembered being brought to Thrushmoor, and being sold to Lowls, who liked Ileark and Berin because they were oddities. The next months were exhausting labor, watching Berin slip further and further from himself as he was drugged out of his mind by Lowls, being forced to intimidate and hurt people he didn’t want to, and the—initially reluctant—respite he gained from talking with Igil. Then he remembered in the last few weeks before they were taken to the Mad Poet to be sacrificed, Lowls was oddly foggy headed, and more irritable than usual.

***

Berin remembered having a lonely childhood, his mother was distant. Initially it wasn’t that bad, just isolated, but at least he had the servants. But then one day when he was young he bit a servant. He didn’t know any better. He was just hungry, and dinner wasn’t for hours. He didn’t mean to upset anyone. But he was locked in his room, and his mother told him that if he ever did that again, he would be out of the house. And from then on the servants kept their distance. No one doted on him, everyone was scared or hated him, his mother always had something backhanded to say to him. He was miserable.

Then one day he saw a group of Sarenrites passing through. Paladins and clerics, in their bright colors, and they looked so happy. He wanted what they had. So he went to one of their clerics and asked about their religion. Everything he heard sounded amazing. Everything they stood for, kindness and redemption, it was all the things he believed should be in the world that he didn’t have. He wanted this. He wanted to join them. He left, and told his mother he was leaving home to join the Sarenrites. She laughed in his face and told him to just try it, he’d never make it. So he did, he walked out the door and returned to the cleric and asked him to let him join their order.

The cleric was uncertain about bringing a member of the undead into their flock, so he decided to devise a test to see if Sarenrae would find Berin worthy. First he tried to test if Berin would burn in Sarenrae’s warm sunlight—the sun still did Berin harm. Berin begged him to give him another chance. The cleric said he had one other idea, but if it didn’t work, it could kill Berin. Berin was desperate. He needed this. He agreed. Please, do the test. He was ready to risk his life for this.

So, the cleric cast positive energy into Berin’s body.

And Berin felt warm, for the first time in his life. He believed that for the first time he understood what a mother’s love must feel like, it must feel like this warmth that filled him with so much joy. Despite being half undead, the positive energy did not harm Berin. Sarenrae protected him. He was to be given a chance.

From then on he worked with the church, helping people, fighting monsters, redeeming wrongdoers, just…doing good. And he gained the trust and friendship of his comrades along the way. And more importantly, eventually Stefan came into his life. Stefan was a traveling writer of some sort. He had bouts of melancholy not even Berin could do anything about, but he always came back around eventually.

Berin remembered that at one point Stefan had insisted on meeting Berin’s mother. To do things properly. However after one too many backhanded comments about Berin, Stefan snapped. He stood up from the dinner table, told Berin’s mother off for failing to see what an amazing person Berin was, what an incredibly thing he’d done being the only undead Sarenrite, and then dragged Berin out. He apologized for losing his cool—only to be interrupted mid-sentence by a kiss from Berin.

The two of them had a “shot-bow” wedding, Berin wore a golden suit, and Stefan wore his signature black. Perfect for Berin being his sun and Stefan the moon.

Berin didn’t want to keep his mother’s last name, and Stefan wasn’t fond of his own last name, so the two decided to start a new lineage. They chose the last name Cyrus. So Berin’s name is actually Berin Cyrus, and we now know his husband’s full name is Stefan Cyrus, so we can finally use Sending for him.

It was not long after the wedding that Berin remembered begin kidnapped, and everything that followed.

***

Igil was born to the illustrious Molot family, a long line of elven butlers to the Diaboro family. Igil was a bit clumsy at helping his parents, but he was eager to learn. The bundle of sticks he has includes a stick for each member of the Molot family, going back generations, so it’s an extremely old heirloom given elves’ ages and the number of sticks in it.

Things were going well for Igil, until around the time he was 50–so still a child for an elf. It was around this time that Collette Diaboro was born. Igil was told that Collette would be his responsibility. And Igil took his responsibility very seriously. But as Collette grew older, it became clear she had some sort of issue with elves. She wasn’t cruel in front of adults—after all Igil was part of the important Molot family, they were well looked after. But behind closed doors she bullied him, tripped him, did everything she could to make him miserable. He was 50 years her senior, but he was just a kid, and he didn’t know what to do about this. He was supposed to take care of her, but she was being cruel to him.

And then something worse happened, when Igil was 80 and Collette was 30. Collette blamed him, but Igil doesn’t know the truth, no one does. Somehow a stove fire was left on, and it caught half the manor on fire. Collette’s parents and Igil’s were both killed in the fire. Igil didn’t know what to do. He was still basically a child despite having lived for 80 years, there were no elven communities in the area to take him in, and a part of him still felt beholden to his duty to the Diaboro house. Out of a mix of desperation and a sense of duty, Igil stayed with Collette.

But life only got worse. It got to the point where Igil took comfort in his nightmares—because at least his nightmares couldn’t *really* hurt him. It was because of this that Alazhra took notice of him. She began whispering to him.

And eventually she made him an offer. Power, and revenge, for his worship.

It was an easy choice.

Igil ripped away everything he once was in the dream, and underneath was the Night Hag nightmare form he has now. Alazhra asked who he wanted to go after first. The choice was clear—Collette. See how she liked living in a nightmare.

He chased her in her dreams for what could have been moment or years from her perception, it was impossible to say. Then when Igil pulled away he was in Collette’s room. And she was dead. Igil went on a massacre from there. Everyone in the house. Everyone who had let Collette get away with torturing him for years without a word. They all deserved to pay. One by one he snuffed out their lives. Until he came to the last survivor.

Collette’s young son, Henry.

Igil hesitated.

Then he said no. He refused to kill an innocent child. He pulled the dream leech from Henry and ate it, sparing him. Igil then fled, stealing half the fortune from the manor’s vaults and leaving half for Henry.

After that Igil lived life for a while pretending to be a noble, up until money began running low. It was at this point that he began his scam of getting close to a noble house and then emptying their vaults and skipping town.

Until he met Dia.

She saw through him right away. She laughed, but she saw the usefulness he could provide, so she didn’t out him to her father. Instead, they made a plan that would be mutually beneficial—she needed a political marriage to take control of her family without putting her sister in the line of fire. If Igil would marry her and help her take control of her family, then he’d be in control of a considerably powerful noble family.

Igil agreed. Maybe because he had feelings for her and wanted to be married to her anyways.

Alazhra was not amused.

Alazhra told Igil it was time to move on. They had other places they needed to be. Dia was a smart girl. She didn’t need him to work things out. She could get by on her own. Igil needed to leave. And do it in a way so she wouldn’t go looking for him afterwards.

So Igil left, and took her Ioun Stone with him to make her think he’d been playing the long con.

After that, Alazhra led Igil to Thrushmoor, and Lowls. For two years Igil was there, wondering why. He was there for longer than he ever was with anyone, but every time he asked Alazhra if it was time to move on, she simply told him they’d arrived a little early, but that it would be time soon.

And then one day a ship arrived carrying slaves, and Alazhra spoke to Igil again. She told him that on that ship was a man of Mwangi descent, who was her son, who Lowls was going to be bringing back with him. She needed Igil to befriend him and convince him to give in to her, because right now he kept running away from her, and she needed him for her plans.

At first Igil did as Alazhra asked, working to befriend Ileark. But as he got to know him, he grew uncertain. And when Jo came to him asking him to set Ileark free, Igil knew what he had to do. Alazhra confronted him and asked just what he thought he was doing. After everything she’d given him, she’d only asked for this one thing in return. He didn’t want to disobey her. She wouldn’t be there when he needed her if he did. Igil said his mind was made up, and Alazhra promised he’d regret that.

So Igil picked the locks and broke the collar. And when Lowls went to dunk our heads under the water, Igil saw a dark figure who turned away and did nothing to help him.

***

Jo remembered a time before “Jo”. She remembered a sense of being in space, floating, and of one being latching onto another, and then another, and each clinging to each other until many became as one. They were exhausted, and when they came upon Golarian and saw a hole in the clouds, they decided to fall there. They didn’t land in the mountain where the other thing had fallen, but fell to Ustalav, and buried themselves deep in the ground there.

Jo Mazik was found as a baby six feet under the dirt by Pharasmans digging a grave, somehow still alive despite being an infant buried alive. She was taken in by the church, as she was brought forth by the graves so she belonged with the Pharasman faith.

She grew up in the church, the head of the local church being the closest she ever had to a mom. She learned all about the faith, and some medical knowledge. Unfortunately at some point her recklessness got the head of the church injured on a mission, permanently. Then came the day she was called to the central church, and she left home forever, as afterwards she was given her mission by the cardinal to infiltrate Lowls’ estate and discover the secret of his ritual and stop it covertly.

***

We each woke up back on the ship after having our memories returned. Berin was in a great mood. Igil was in a dour mood, and Jo was completely unable to talk. Ileark was somewhere in the middle, not in a good mood but not taking things as badly as the other two since he’d already known most of what he found out (since he didn’t get *Igil’s* memory that revealed who his hag-mom is. Two of us maaaay have yelled something at the GM when she dropped that reveal in the middle of Igil’s memory)

We decided to split up for the day, Igil going off to work on making clothes, Ileark and Jo taking some time to just think, and Berin and Dia sparring and talking after Berin made some tea and finger foods for everyone to help cheer them up.

That evening we all met back up to eat dinner, except Jo who took her food to go. Berin and Ileark shared their memories. Igil said he would share, but he wanted to be on the deck of the ship under the stars to share. He wanted Desna watching for what he had to say.

So they went up to the deck of the ship. They found Jo sitting alone, barricaded at the front of the ship, looking at the sky with her spyglass. When she looked at us, there were tears streaming down her face. When she tried to talk, all she could speak was Terran. Ileark cast Communal Tongues so we could understand her. She said that she missed them, but she didn’t even know who “they” were. She tried to explain how she has remembered “before Jo”, and how she didn’t even know if what she remembered was also her, or something separate from her that’s inside of her and she is just Jo, or what. She was acting unusually subdued compared to usual, her voice was very stilted, and her eyes kept flashing colors uncontrollably, similar to when she uses her judgements but out of sync. We tried out best to be supportive and understanding to the best of our ability. Berin was the closest to understanding, having woken up knowing he was missing someone but not knowing who. The rest of us could mostly only offer sympathy and the fact we would gladly help her to find out what was going on, even if it had to happen after we dealt with Lowls.

Jo directed us back to Igil since we’d come up here to talk to him. Igil offered us another bottle of wine. He poured us glasses, then took out his unholy symbol that doubles as a flask, and poured a little wine is it as well. He swirled it around, setting it on the railing of the ship.

He told the party there was one thing he wasn’t going to tell them, because the thing that brought him to Alazhra was something he wasn’t proud of, and he’d hurt a lot of people for her. But now the one thing they needed to know was this.

He looked as Ileark. “Your mother is a bitch.” And he used his psychic projectile to hurl the unholy symbol off the ship as far as it could go.

Ileark was immediately demanding clarification for exactly what Igil meant. Igil spelled it out “Your mother, Alazhra, is a bitch.”

Before anything else could be said, Alazhra’s voice spoke. Suddenly they weren’t on the ship anymore. They were at a wooden table in a cabin, and Alazhra was across from them.

Ileark immediately began panicking and tried to keep as close to Igil as physically possible.

Igil was a little drunk and just asked if now she was dragging his friends into this too.

Jo, Berin, and Dia, who had never been in her presence before, felt like if they looked at Alazhra something bad would happen. Ileark looked away because he knew from past experience that nothing good came of trying to look at her. Igil was the only one who could stand to look, as now he remembered he’d looked at her many times before.

Jo began carving a spiral into the wood of the table in a desperate cry for help to her own goddess.

Alazhra asked Igil why he’s doing this. Hadn’t she given him everything he wanted? Hadn’t she given him great gifts? Igil argued that now that he saw things clearly, she’d had him do something horrible. She sneered that she shouldn’t have left him to his own devices while he lost his memories. She should have told him everything from the start so he had to rely on her and only her, like always, now he was being too headstrong. She turned her attention to Ileark, telling him that he really should accept her gifts. She’d left him with Desnans so he’d have a close understanding of things already—their spheres of influence have so much overlap after all. Desna handles fate and Alazhra has a hand in bad luck. Desna handles dreams and Alazhra makes them into nightmares. Desna is over travel and Alazhra is over interplanar travel. They’re two sides of the same coin, really. Ileark told her “you realize I will never follow you”, to which she merely shrugged off as him making grand statements. She asked what was so distasteful about doing as she asked. She wanted what they wanted. She would only direct him to kill evil people—their souls were her favorite food, after all. And she didn’t want to Great Old Ones coming through any more than we did—after all they were stepping on her turf. So if the end result was the same, why did it matter if I was following her or Desna? Ileark was panicking still, but thankfully Berin butted in and told her that it’s about how you do things. Evil means for the same ends don’t justify those actions. Alazhra groaned at that, saying mortals were so pedantic about things like the way you go about getting to the same end result.

Fine. Alazhra would let them go for now. Igil had served her faithfully for 30 years. And she still loved him, and Ileark too. But Igil wouldn’t be rid of the night hag form in his dreams—that would be a permanent reminder.

After that, they each drifted away into actual dreams.

Ileark felt arms around him. Comforting. A joyful voice greeted him. When the figure moved around in front of him, he was face-to-face with his goddess, Desna. She was ecstatic to finally meet him. Apparently Alazhra’s presence around him had forced her to keep away due to the gods’ non-interference pact, but now that she’d pulled away Desna was finally free to contact him. She would have just broken the rules but she didn’t want Iomedae on her ass. She was super excited to have a Night Hag-Changeling follower, and she liked the progress he’s made so far. She’s looked into the future and there’s a lot of pretty nasty stuff to come, but she knows he and his Allie’s can handle it.

But that’s beside what she wants to talk to him about. She knows that Alazhra made him an offer, and while she knows he has no intention of taking her up on any offer she made, Desna wants to make an offer in kind. When Ileark’s gotten stronger, after having dealt with everything that’s going to happen in the near future, then she wants him to join basically a black ops team to travel not just the world but the universe seeking out and stopping plots to bring back the Great Old Ones like this one. His friends are welcome too as a “sign on bonus”. This would be an eternal commitment, if he said yes, so she wanted him to take some time to think it over. Although Ileark is just immediately wanting to be like ‘yes interplanetary travel doing Desna’s will sign me up immediately’.

Also it’s vital to note that Desna was voiced like a perky prep the entire time.

Afterwards everyone had a shared dream. They remembered in a haze being dragged along to the Asylum after their minds were sacrificed. They remembered the chaos as they were dragged down to the basement of the Asylum during the initial doppelgänger attack. And they remembered the dream, the first thing they all remembered upon waking up. Only this time they were watching it from a third-person perspective as the Tatterman hunted them down. And they heard a voice telling them to wake up. And then telling them that if they wished to remain awake, they needed to find her.

The next day we shared theories about what that dream might have meant (and Ileark shared his dream and got dubbed Seer Ileark by Dia for having seen their goddess in his dreams). We decided a possible explanation was that it was the Briarstone Witch, who had some connection to the city Lowls was seeking and supposedly to the Tatterman, and who we’d never found much else about after seeking information about her for a bit in Thrushmoor and the Asylum. It seemed as likely a guess as any. If nothing else, it certainly seemed our fates are quickly leading us to that city, one way or another.

With another free day, Ileark prepared all of his 4th level spell slots as Sending for the others. First, of course, was Berin. Ileark sent a message to Stefan along the lines of ‘this is Berin only not this is his friend Ileark. What’s up? The sky.’ Which is unmistakably from Berin. There was an incredibly long pause. Berin started shaking Ileark asking why there was no response if Ileark knows the Sending went through. Then Berin got multiple uses of Sending sent to him, for a poem, and an apology from Stefan for not trying to reach out sooner, but he had been afraid that if he did he’d find out that Berin was dead. Berin dropped Ileark and dashed to their room, kicking everyone out for some privacy, and began talking to his husband for the first time in three years.

While Berin was doing that, Igil and Dia made amends, and then Igil went to find his “bro” Ileark to also make use of Sending. Because now that Alazhra is Igil’s (bad) mother figure and Ileark’s biological mother, they’re brothers now.

Igil had two people to Send. One was Dia’s sister, because when they’d been talking she’d expressed that she missed her but was too scared to reach out incase she was dead. So Igil figured he’d reach out instead, and if she was dead he could figure out how to break the news gently instead of Dia having to find out the hard way.

Ileark sent a message to her sister that he was a friend of Dia’s, and that her sister missed her. Dia’s sister responded that she missed her too, but that Dia needed to stay far away. She wasn’t safe there.

The second person, Igil wanted a message sent, but he wanted it to have no connection to him. He wanted to know how Henry was doing, how he’d grown up. After some prompting so Ileark could understand so he’d know what to actually say, Igil admitted that he’d killed Henry’s mother. Having heard the conversation with Alazhra about how Igil refused to kill a child and that was the right choice, he understood now that this was that same person. He agreed to send a message. Ileark sent a message saying he was a distant cousin of his mother, Collette, who was looking to reconnect. He was curious how he was, and what he was doing with himself. Henry replied back that he was happy to hear from him, he was doing well. He had a wife and three children. The oldest daughter was named Collette and the youngest son was named Igil (I’m sorry I forgot the middle child those other two were the ones that stood out for obvious reasons). He hoped to see him sometime (making Ileark feel a little guilty for the lie).

Ileark told Igil everything, including the children’s names. Igil mused that maybe he *should* get back into contact with Henry sometime.

Berin and Stefan talked for a while, using multiple Sendings back and forth. In the end Stefan promised they’d see each other again soon.

And then we switched to our narrator, the Detective, who had been following us from the beginning. He was crying.

“He contacted me. He remembers me.”

The Detective is Stefan. Berin’s husband is on his way, following behind us every step of the way. On a boat not far behind us. So he and Berin will surely be reunited soon.

[potteresque-ire]

This post is Part 5 of the five-part meta series on the Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) Incident, based on what has transpired up to 2021/08/22.

1) The 2nd Sino-Japanese War (1937-45) & the Yasukuni Shrine 2) Post-War Sino-Japanese Relations; “Every Chinese should visit the Yasukuni Shrine” 3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One 4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A 5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

As a highlight to the mob nature leading to Zhang’s downfall, please consider the timeline immediately before and after Zhang’s losing his endorsements on August 13th (or, why August 13th really mattered):

August 12th, evening: Zhang’s 2019 attendance of a wedding at the Nogi Shrine (乃木神社) went on Weibo hot search, and into public awareness. The Nogi Shrine (乃木神社) is of far less fame than the Yasukuni Shrine, but was named after a Japanese general of the Imperialist Japanese Army who was also the governor-general of then colonial Taiwan.

August 13th, ~ 2 am: netizens uncovered photos of Zhang’s 2018 visit to the Yasukuni Shrine, which were spread onto Weibo and made the hot search.

August 13th, 1:39 pm: Zhang posted his first letter of apology that began with: “Today, I’m ashamed of my once ignorant self, and furthermore, wants to apologise deeply for my past inappropriate behaviour.” (今天我為曾經無知的自己而羞愧，更要對之前不當行為深刻地道歉。)

August 13th, 2 pm: Nabuo Kishi, Japan’s current Minister of Defence, and a right-wing member of the House of Representative, Yasutoshi Nishimura, made an un-announced visit to the Yasukuni Shrine. The date was 2 days earlier than the 76th anniversary of Emperor Hirohito’s surrender speech (August 15th), as customary for Japanese officials to avoid visiting the shrine on significant anniversary dates of the war.

August 13th, 4:39 pm: People’s Daily (人民日報) published an online critique of Zhang’s apology. “… As a public figure, to be so lacking in historical knowledge, so unfeeling towards the suffering of the nation, it’s too inappropriate. On matters of righteousness of the nation, testing is not permissible, challenges are definitely not permissible. If knowingly committed, one would pay a heavy price.”  (。。。身為公眾人物，對歷史常識如此匱乏，對民族苦難渾然不覺，太不應該。事關民族大義，不容任何試探，更不容有任何挑戰。若明知故犯，就得付出沈重代價。)

August 13th, 5:05 pm: CCTV News (央視新聞) posted the video of Nabuo Kishi’s visit to the Yasukuni Shrine.

August 13th, 5:33: Zhang was dropped from his first endorsement. He would be dropped by all 27 of them within the next 5 hours.

August 13th, 5:35 pm: Zhang responded to People’s Daily’s critique piece, stating he shall repent and learn his lesson, and that as a Chinese, he loves his country and the CCP.

August 13th, ~6 pm: S. Korean news reported that the Korean Ministry of Foreign Affairs had summoned the Japanese ambassador in Korea to protest the visit of the Japanese Defence Minister to the Yasukuni Shrine.

August 13th, 6:26 pm: CCTV News (央視新聞) critiqued Zhang’s apology. “Whether to take photos in front of the Yasukuni Shrine, or to attend a wedding at the Nogi Shrine, Zhang Zhehan touched the wounds of history, hurt the feelings of the nation. It cannot be blamed on “once ignorance.” Just now, a Japanese Minister went to the Yasukuni Shrine for “demon worshipping” (Pie note: demon, from guizi 鬼子), China firmly opposes to this wrongdoing of Japanese high officials…” (無論在靖國神社前合影，還是到乃木神社參加婚禮，張哲瀚都觸碰了歷史傷痕，傷害了民族感情，不能簡單歸咎為「曾經無知」。就在剛剛，有日本大臣到靖國神社「拜鬼」，中方堅決反對日本政要這種錯誤做法。。。)

August 13th, 9 pm: China’s Ministry of National Defence answered press questions regarding the Yasukuni Shrine visit by Nabuo Kishi and Yasutoshi Nishimura.

Not only did Zhang’s incident happened in August, 2021, it happened on pretty much the worst day for him in August, 2021; the latest of his incident interleaved the unfolding news of the Japanese high officials’ visit to the Yasukuni Shrine.

What I’d like to call attention to, however, is this: Zhang’s endorsements didn’t begin dropping until *after* People’s Daily criticism.

If the companies had been genuinely offended by Zhang’s action, why was the wait necessary? If their Chinese feelings were genuinely hurt, why hadn’t they moved earlier, in the morning of August 13th, when Zhang’s visit went on hot search? Were these companies also ignorant about history, the significance of the the Yasukuni Shrine? The Chinese government has far more important things to worry about than an idol, but what about these companies that had paid good money for their spokesperson? That watch the public opinion, the market carefully?

Even if they didn’t care about the war themselves, why hadn’t they dropped Zhang based on the expected public opinion? What does that say about what these market experts believed, or knew about the public opinion? What does that say about their assessment of whether their potential customers would, as their actual selves, stop spending money on their products because of Zhang’s Yasukuni Shrine visit?

Were the act of dropping Zhang, then, more an act of performative patriotism than anything else? Once the first company started, the rest raced to follow for fear of being the slowest one, viewed as the least patriotic one. Hence, the 5-hour storm of endorsements abandoning Zhang. This herd ... mob behaviour, in which actions were either not taken or all taken at the same time, was also observed in the timing of different online platforms removing Zhang’s works, and fandom content with his name.

A “bingo card” for netizens to cross out Zhang’s endorsements as the sequential drops happened. Similar cards for Kris Wu had circulated in July. 

Were WoH and Zhang’s other group projects removed because Zhang was unpatriotic, or was it because the online platforms (and the tech giants behind them) were trying to protect themselves? Youku explained WoH’s first-time removal as a technical glitch but then, as reports of other platforms removing Zhang’s content poured in, the series was removed again.  

How much is real when it comes to the thunderous online declarations of love and betrayal against China? 

Related to this: turtles may remember the Xinjiang cotton incident in March, 2021, how Chinese netizens harassed anyone who used, endorsed Nike. One may assume, with that outcry, that rage, that anyone with a reputation to keep, with ties to the Chinese state, in particular, have severed their ties with the brand.

As it turns out, the teams of the Chinese Super (Football) League, for example, have kept their Nike kits. The Chinese Football Association (CFA), which, despite being officially non-governmental and nonprofit, is managed by the State General Administration of Sports (國家體育總局), issued a statement on March 27th on Weibo that only criticised Nike’s “wrong actions in choosing its cotton source” (對耐克公司在棉花原料選擇上的錯誤行徑表達了譴責), and reserved “its right to further deal with  contract with Nike” (保留進一步處理同耐克合同的權力). It never cut off the contract with Nike: a 10-year sponsorship,  signed in 2018, which amounts to 3 million RMB (463,000 USD) in funds from Nike for each football club every year. The CFA statement was later removed from Weibo. Photos of the football players have simply had the Nike Swoosh covered up, or photoshopped away. 

Photos from the Shanghai Shenhua football club, with and without the swoosh (Source).

Life is practical in China … and darkly humorous, at times. As a Mao-founded regime should be, perhaps.

I got Asks wondering then: will our non-Zhang-related favourite stars and CPs, dramas and fandoms get affected by the incident?

At the moment, my guess leans towards a no. My basis is this: in the critique piece against Zhang, published on 2021/08/16, by 中纪委 Central Commission for Discipline Inspection—the CCDI, by the way, is the highest anti-corruption, rules and regulations body in China—I believe the reason Zhang was disciplined was clearly stated:

對於所有「拜鬼」行為，中國都堅決反對。但如果我們國內的公眾人物去靖國神社都不被譴責和追究，我們又怎麼挺直腰桿要求外國人不去呢？

“Regarding all “demon worship” behaviour, China holds firm oppositions. But if our own public figures going to the Yasukuni Shrine get no reprimands, no investigations of responsibility, how can we straighten our backs and demand foreigners to not go?”

This has led me to think the state has no ulterior motives in targeting Zhang: Zhang’s “sin” was limited to his visiting the Yasukuni Shrine as a well-known, public figure, and/but that was enough. And the punishment had to be given in a heavy-handed, high profile manner, given the “news “of Zhang’s visit broke out on August 13, 2021. The following observation may be my being over-sensitive, but in the timeline above, Zhang was reprimanded, and his first round of the punishment in full swing (dropping of endorsements), before the China’s Ministry of National Defence talked to the press, which happened later than it had to be (compare the timing with S. Korea’s). Short of removing Zhang’s hot searches—which netizens would’ve noticed—this ordering of events was necessary; otherwise, the Chinese government issuing a formal complaint against Japan for their Minister of Defence’s visit to the shrine would’ve co-existed on the hot search with the report of China’s own celebrity visiting the same place. I therefore believe the state’s reaction had nothing to do with how Zhang achieved his fame, the past and present projects he was involved in, the CPs he was coupled with. Other state agencies and media would likely be careful about not attaching these topics to Zhang’s case as well, so not to distract from the central message of the government that … the Japanese are very bad people in the summer of 2021.

(Whether they’ll attach them to the Clear and Bright campaign is another matter.) 

Another Ask ~ Will Zhang be able to make a comeback? In five years? Ten?

Looking that far ahead is difficult, but one thing has to happen for Zhang to return—the Japanese have to stop being very bad people according to the Chinese government, which isn’t likely to happen soon. The Japanese government has shown few signs that they shall soon revise their attitudes towards their World War II history  (Yasutoshi Nishimura, who went to the Shrine with Japan’s Minister of Defence on August 13th, is associated with a historical revisionist group), while China’s escalating military aggression in the Indo-Pacific region will be seen as a growing threat to Japan, likely push the country towards the right. 

And 5, 10 years later, Zhang will be 35, 40 years old. Even if he’ll be able to work in the industry again, it’ll be difficult for him to achieve the fame he has before. Also, just because the government no longer bans him doesn’t mean production companies will be willing to hire him; he’ll be considered high risk—policies of China are volatile, after all, and the decision to un-ban can be easily reversed.

(I’m so sorry, Anon, I wish I have a better answer for you.)

And... here’s a thought I’ll finally end this meta series with. I don’t see Zhang as the only loser in this incident. I don’t really see any winners in this incident at all. An industry is dangerous for its every worker if its narrative, its list of guilty is penned by cyber mobs and in the name of patriotism; if the accused cannot speak for themselves, aren’t allowed to grow; if its rules of appropriate conduct are every-changing (The Reporter in 2017 = OK; Zhang in 2018 = Not OK); if its workers are penalised not by their own deeds but their associations (the rest of the cast and production team of WoH and other Zhang-associated projects).

The think tank for the National Ratio and Television Authority (國家廣播電視總局; NRTA, ie, the Chinese visual media censorship board), in their criticism piece about Zhang, hinted at even rougher waters ahead, in light of Zhang’s (and Kris Wu’s) transgressions:

明星頻頻「犯事」，說到底還是行業內對明星藝德約束不夠嚴格。據瞭解，電影行業正在籌備全國電影界道德委員會，將對電影從業人員道德規範提出更高要求，並提出，要將明星藝德納入法治化的軌道中來，給明星藝德約束加一道法規之鎖，明確明星的責任和義務，將明星的個人行為與職業利益掛鈎。 “The ultimate cause of stars “getting into trouble” frequently is that the industry has not tied a sufficiently severe bind on the stars’ artistic virtue (Pie note: roughly, = professional ethics). Based on reports, the film industry is preparing a National Film Industry Morality Committee that shall raise the moral requirements for film industry workers. The industry has also suggested that the stars’ artistic virtue shall eventually be governed by laws, to add a lock of legality to the bind of artistic virtues for the stars, to make clear the stars’ responsibilities and obligations, to couple a star’s personal behaviour with their professional (monetary) gains.”

My interpretation of this: should the suggestions become reality, it shall be written in future film contracts that a star who commits an act that the state considers immoral will have to pay the investors the production cost of their projects, and possibly, the projected profit. 

To put some dollar signs to this interpretation: a high-profile star may work on one or more projects with a price tag in the order of 100 million RMB (~15 million USD); box office, merchandise sells, and long term profits expected from online streaming can raise that number by several fold. This is a sum that even the most affluent stars will have a difficult time affording—and that’s before considering the endorsements, for which current contracts already require the stars to pay the damages.

The key word here is that the offending act only has to be considered immoral, not criminal. Immoral acts range from not liking the CCP enough—an easy-to-understand offence—to deviation from the society’s 公序良俗 (“public order and fine customs”), which includes just about anything that disagrees with the state-defined mainstream values.

Stars are stars because they invite the imaginations of their audience, because they break boundaries: from the seemingly insurmountable humdrum of daily life, to something that can be much, much more.

Stars should, of course, be law-abiding; they should be patriotic. But a star who’s mainstream in every way? Are they still a star, something we regular people wonder about, dream upon?

Bind and lock, the NRTA think tank referred to these suggestions. It reminders me of a quote by the famous Chinese director, Feng Xiaogang (馮小剛), who, in 2014, complained to BBC—perhaps in a slip of tongue—that Chinese directors could be like “dancing with fetters” (戴著腳鐐去跳舞) when working with the country’s censorship system.

Yeah. It’s kinda like that.

===

The Zhang Zhehan Incident Meta Series:

PART 1  PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 <- YOU ARE HERE

[funkymbtifiction]

Some real talk on Fi: a submission

 I’ve noticed a Fi-bias on the internet. It tends to glamorise Fi as this lofty, Wonder Woman function that somehow epitomises all that’s principled and good. I just read a PersonalityCafe thread listing the flaws of Fi and Fe. While Fe got blasted as manipulative, mindlessly conformist, and even psychopathic at worst, Fi got an easy pass with stuff like ‘refuses to go along just to keep the peace’ ‘cannot lie’ ‘cannot be persuaded to compromise its ideals’ etc. I laughed because these were clearly flattering ‘cute flaw’ descriptions. Like when a job interviewer asks you, ‘What’s your greatest weakness?’ and you say, ‘I work too hard!’ Cute flaw. Your interviewer will roll their eyes because your words will come off as self-flattery in the guise of critique. Saying that the flaw of Fi is ‘I won’t conform to stupid things! I’m too idealistic and principled!’ is not real talk.

Real talk is actual, hurtful, ugly flaws that make you go ‘Well, shit.’

As an INFP, I know what high Fi is like at its worst. It’s not cute. Let me share a story.

Last summer, my mum was diagnosed with cancer. All my friends were kind. But I felt a great gulf from my fellow high Fi-users because…none of them had gone through bereavement or family illness themselves. They could offer empathy or care on the surface, but I could always sense the gulf when they spoke. It was ‘I’m sorry to hear that’ and ‘I hope she gets better soon’ but - a patently obvious void within, an absence of deeper feeling. Fe users get a lot of crap for being ‘fake’, but have you ever heard a Fi mouth a platitude about something when they cannot relate their own experience or their own selves back to it?

Oh, they were kind, but their high Fi pulled them inextricably into their own inner universe. They were certainly willing to help, but ultimately their inner world was drenched with them (who am I? what am I here for? Me, mine, my). I know that inner radio - I have it myself. It blares away all the darn time! When I talked to them, I always walked away feeling more alone. Oh, of course they were sympathetic, but on a more fundamental level, their world was self-preoccupied (‘my musings, my ideals, my identity’). My grief felt lonely and cold after being in their presence. Some of the more tactless ones couldn’t help but explicate how my words fed their own inner world (‘This makes me think of my relationship with my family’/‘That makes me think of my mortality’).

It hurt like hell.

Told ya this story wasn’t pretty. This isn’t about the ‘cute flaws’ Fi usually basks in on the internet.

Let’s talk Fe. A common internet myth (one which walks hand in hand with Fi’s badass edgelord image) is that Fe’s just a people-pleaser, a PR manager, a nosy teacher, the function-equivalent of a mom elbowing her kids to say hello to the guests. Right?

Nah. Fe can be blazing warmth. Fe can be heartfelt. Fe can be passionate compassion. My isolation only lifted when I met a healthy Fe-user, Margo. Margo cared about my mom because – she just did. She didn’t need to know what it was like to experience her own mom ill. She didn’t need to have met my mom. Margo didn’t need to tie my experience back to who Margo was or what Margo stood for – heck, it wasn’t about Margo at all. She just sat on my bed and asked me questions about the colour of my mom’s eyes and where my mom went to school and gosh-where-did-your-mom-get-her-grit-from and something magical happened:

I felt warm.

I felt warm because I looked into that girl’s eyes and I could feel the care emanating from her. Over the next six months, Margo called me to ask how surgery appointments went; she looked through album photos with me; she texted me memes she said reminded her of my mom. And nah, Margo wasn’t an Enneagram 2. She just cared.

Now, Fi users can do all of these things. But what was different about Margo’s healthy Fe is that on a fundamental level, she had the capacity to care deeply about something and someone that she had never had any personal experience with. And her feelings did not centre herself or her life. It was about my mom.

It was the most comforting thing I could have received.

Now, this is not a Fi vs Fe post (for heaven’s sake, I’m a badge-carrying INFP myself). It is an attempt to go beyond the usual caricatures of independent warrior vs tyrant manipulator when we talk of Fi and Fe. To my fellow high Fi-users: not all our flaws are cute. Sure, we’re allowed to say we’re fierce free spirits; we’re allowed to say we refuse to compromise. Just remember to include stuff that doesn’t make us sound like the Justice League. We have flaws that are not cute and not glamorous and actually pretty unpleasant and hurtful for others. We may make things all about ourselves when someone else is suffering. We may not have room for someone else’s pain. We may project our own experience on someone else rather than making space for them. We may not make someone feel truly seen and heard. We may hurt someone through our self-absorption.

We are amazing, but sometimes….we need to learn to get ourselves out of the way.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

time travel aus, amirite? since we’ve all decided to start talking about our ideas, i thought i’d throw my hat into the ring. i’ve actually had this idea for a while, i just wasn’t sure what to do with it because i barely have the patience for one-shots, let alone the continuous plotted longfic this would need

it’s not my idea, of course, i’m incapable of original thought. it’s based off this can-i-really-call-it-a-genre-if-it’s-two-fics-with-the-same-premise where some combination of maedhros, maglor, elros, and elrond land in the blessed realm before - even the unchaining, in my take, when the ambarussa are still children and the world is blissful. it’s more specifically my take on this fic, which takes elrond and elros from very early in their captivity and maedhros from just before the silmaril theft and maglor from several centuries into the second age. i just plugged my own characterisations into it, and, uh. the specific setup this not-genre uses is that maitimo and makalaurë *~mysteriously disappear,~* throwing their extended family into chaos, blah blah blah, and then a few decades later -

well. with my characterisations, we have a nightmare hellbeast who’s burned up everything he used to be in singular pursuit of an unreachable goal and has carved his very self into a weapon, a completely drained beaten-up husk barely cognisant of reality past the screaming in his mind who’s so utterly broken it’s debatable if he even counts as an elda, and two extremely young extremely traumatised children in a completely unfamiliar land- and skyscape whose only adult they can maybe-kind-of trust is currently bleeding from the eyes and shrieking wordless notes of utter despair

yeah, this au’s Fun. elrond and elros have maybe eight words of quenya between them, most of which are obscene, maedhros will act completely normal until he suddenly stabs himself in the arm because can’t this stupid hallucination end already, he has a character arc to tank, and maglor seems completely unaware he’s not still on the beach having the same cyclic arguments with the ghosts of the people he failed. the elves of valinor aren’t completely unprepared to deal with this, at least not the ones who remember cuiviénen, but it’s still a massive shock to see two of the children they came to the land of the gods to protect twisted and scarred like the worst victims of the dark. especially since noone can figure out why

so yeah. i have trouble finishing oneshot collections, so i doubt i’ll ever write this out in full, but i do have a lot of Scenes. fëanáro staring in utter horror at the oath, whispering ‘i made this.’ elros and elrond’s somewhat hole-filled explanation of their backstory devolving into a sindarin argument, and when the family asks tyelkormo what they’re talking about he freezes before saying ‘they’re arguing about whether maitimo killed their mother.’ the moment maglor finally managed to get through what happened after they got the silmarils to maedhros, who immediately switches from off-the-cuff self-harm to well-planned suicide attempts. the five-minute period the family hellspawn’s working theory was ‘they’re maitimo and makalaurë from an alternate universe where we’re evil’ (‘is there an evil version of me??? does he eat kids???????’ - tyelko) finwë going full bulldoze taniquetil in the background. fun times, might write some snippets in the future

but i like to think through the mechanics of this kind of time travel story too much, so i started wondering where maitimo and makalaurë, yanno, went. i quickly came to the conclusion that they probably swapped places with their evil future selves, giving me three time travel aus for the price of one! technically four but (a) i’m not sure if or with who the twins would swap and (b) if they did their alternate selves are probably having a really bad time and i don’t particularly want to think about it. the stories maitimo and makalaurë are in... they’re not necessarily any happier, but they are a lot more wtftastic

maitimo falls asleep under the light of the trees, on a relaxing retreat from the demands of court life and family-induced disasters. he wakes up in a world that’s almost completely dark, surrounded by plants he’s never seen before and wearing clothing designed for a much warmer climate, the scent of death in the air. now permanently separated from all his old problems, maitimo rapidly acquires several exciting new ones, including but not limited to:

everyone he ever loved being dead or worse

the lone possible exception, his last surviving little brother, being an almost unrecognisable blood-drenched kinslayer who hates everything in the universe especially himself

said blood-drenched kinslayer almost immediately imprinting on him like a grouchy murderous duckling

his future self having apparently wanted to kill even more people, why

getting dogpiled by like thirty dudes in full armour the instant they showed up at the army of the west’s camp to surrender

getting soul-scanned by eönw two minutes later. not fun

arafinwë pulling him into an enormous hug and then bursting into tears

the subsequent explanation as to just what happened to him and his brothers, which somehow got worse after he’d already thought they’d hit rock bottom like four separate times

proceeding to lose a staring contest with findaráto

the way everyone in camp looks at him like he’s an incredibly dangerous wild animal that might bite at any time

how if half of what arafinwë said is true he can’t even blame them, fuck, fuck

the twin half-elven(?????????????) princes he and his brother apparently kidnapped and held hostage for years, inflicting unimaginable cruelties as far as anyone knows

his first meeting with the kids happening when elrond broke into where they were holding maglor to scream at him in very loud very fast very angry sindarin for like half an hour

maglor just staring at him, eyes wide, ears pinned back, the whole time, and then trying to maul the first guard who mocked him for it

getting saddled with kinslayer containment duties in the aftermath of that whole incident

elrond punching him in the collarbone when he tried to apologise, shouting ‘you weren’t there, don’t you dare try to tell me what it was like’

elros’ visible half second of pure terror after the blow hit home

elros then using recognisable techniques from maitimo’s debate team circuit during a speech to the edain

like, clearly some shit did happen, but it’s obviously not what the local leadership’s afraid of

this sour-faced scar-covered warrior slipping out of the shadows in an unpopulated part of camp, kneeling before him, intoning ‘the swords of the host remain at your disposal my lord’ and then immediately vanishing

he didn’t recognise them until after they’d left but they were definitely one of his philosophy club friends, what even

just generally having woken up in a future a thousand times worse than his darkest nightmares

his natural instinct is to try and fix things, but how?? what’s even left to fix????

maglor sometimes goes into these unhinged desperate spiralling rambles directed at the older brother who exists in his head rather than the one in front of his eyes. whatever’s left of maitimo’s biggest little brother is clearly in so much pain

all the things he’s trying extremely hard not to think about because if he slows down enough to he’s pretty sure he’ll collapse

all the people he’s never met who hate him for pretty understandable reasons and whose social structure he now has to learn to have any hope of making it out of All This

the edain’s collective insistence on calling him pasthros

curufinwë isn’t even a hundred how does he have a kid

makalaurë, on the other hand, wakes up on a beach beneath a giant glowing orb. finding himself in a land so much barer than what he knows, among people whose souls don’t even work like his, his initial working theory is he’s been abducted by aliens

[ficsandgiggles]

Sucky

Happy Halloween friends! Have a safe and spooky time and enjoy this fic with Sam, Bucky, Peter and Reader! 💕

That was it, the trap had been set. Y/N and Peter were ready for absolute chaos to ensue after you had planned to scare Bucky and Sam as payback for sneaking under your beds at 3am and suddenly shoving at the mattresses, sending the two of you flying. To make things worse, they dressed themselves up as ghouls to confuse and frighten your sleepy selves more.

Y/N and Peter had been planning this for a few days now, and they were excited to pull it off. The first part of the prank was to coax Bucky and Sam into the same room, so Y/N just baked some of their classic chocolate chip cookies, ensuring the delicious smell wafted in the direction of the lounge, where Bucky and Sam were chilling.

Next, Peter pulled a string which was connected to the door lock to lock them in. The two of them were hiding under a table covered by a huge cloth, so they weren’t noticeable.

“What the hell was that?” Sam asked as he and Bucky turned to the sound of the door locking. Part one was officially complete, the next step was the remote controlled doll which casually cycled in front of the pair. The creepy doll stared at them, then Y/N hit play on their phone, which blasted childish laughter through the speakers.

“Alright punks, come out from wherever you’re hiding.” Bucky had finally figured out who was behind the prank, but his still motion made the two teens struggle to hold in their laughter. Y/N nodded at Peter, who pressed another button. Shrieks were heard as two buckets of ice cold water poured over Sam and Bucky.

Y/N and Peter made their final move, they snuck out from under the table and put their ghoul hoods up before sneaking behind up behind the pair and clawing down their backs, letting out ear piercing screeches as they did so.

Sam jumped away with a yelp, he turned around to see that Bucky had already pinned Y/N down after he jumped out of his skin. He had pinned them down by sitting on their waist and pinning their hands down with his knees.

Bucky turned around and looked at Sam, nodding in Peter’s direction. He immediately caught on and chased Peter around for a bit before he managed to tackle him to the floor, pinning him in the same way.

“You two are such punks.” Bucky growled, looking down at the two teens with a playful glare. “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to get revenge after we pranked you! I think we need to get our own back.” He told them as he looked at Sam, giving him a smirk so he understood his mission.

Y/N and Peter gave each other a look of fear, knowing you both screwed up big time    now since Bucky and Sam were about tickle the daylights out of the two, and they knew how to get them both laughing until they were begging for mercy.

“Okay, I’m gonna give you a countdown... three, two...” of course, Bucky stopped the countdown early to shake his fingers in between Y/N’s ribs. He grinned at the giggling kid underneath him, knowing that the sudden surprise would make the feeling a million times worse.

Y/N looked over to see Peter screeching with giggles, Sam was currently going for the worst spot on Peter’s body, his armpits. Just simple pokes can be more than enough to get him squealing. Peter’s face was scrunched up so he couldn’t see Y/N smiling fondly at him through their giggles.

“You’re definitely not laughing enough, like your good friend here. Where’s that giggle spot, hm?” Bucky asked with a teasing smirk, holding his wriggling fingers over Y/N before squeezing into their thighs, ensuring his thumbs really dug into into a sensitive spot on their inner thigh to really them squeal.

“That’s more like it.” He grinned cheekily, leaning down to nuzzle his beard into their neck to add to the torture as Sam now had Peter’s top shoved up, blowing multiple raspberries into the soft stomach whilst his fingers dug into his ribs.

“You two learnt your lesson yet? Huh?” Sam growled playfully to the two of them, reaching over to squeeze Y/N’s side, making their eyes widen as they squealed with giggles. “Whahahatever Sahahaham!” They replied, leaning away from his hand, and straight into Bucky’s metal one, which shook into their other side.

“Thought you could get away with that, huh?” Bucky grinned down at them, cheekily poking his tongue out whilst he watched them squirm and squeal helplessly. Y/N nodded in response, still giggling and pulling desperately at their hands.

“Alright Buck, we better stop in a mo, the Spider-Kid is about to laugh himself to death.” Sam told Bucky as he shook his hand into Peter’s belly one more time before letting the exhausted teen go. Peter blushed, still giggling as he curled up, clearly learning his lesson.

“What about you, Y/N? You sorry?” Sam asked, shaking his fingers into the sole of one of their feet, which made Y/N squeal in surprise, not seeing him since there was a Bucky in the way.

“YEHEHEHEHES!” They yelped, squealing with laughter as Sam quickly got off them, quickly followed by Bucky, after a neck raspberry of course.

Sam and Bucky chuckled as they stood up, going to walk away. But Bucky turned around, winking at Y/N and Peter.

“Happy Halloween, punks,  and GG, as the youths of today would say. But never challenge the two prank champions.” He grinned before leaving the two of them to recover and take in their lesson to not prank them again.

Peter turned to Y/N, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, their team name is Sucky.” He mumbled, making Y/N burst into giggles.

“I am so calling them that from now on, Sucky.” They giggled, but what they didn’t realise, was that Bucky and Sam were stood by the doorway, ready to teach them another lesson.

[fandomsilhouette]

we’ll have (a devil of a time)

Felix throws a wrench in Lila’s meticulous planning when he refuses to be wooed by grandiose tales of adventure and daring, when he refuses to give away any hint of what she might lie about to get his attention. Somehow, this leads to Marinette shaking hands with all the wrong (right) people. 

Happy @felixmonth, y’all! 

This new kid, this Felix, is never going to fit in. Everyone can see it the moment he steps through the door on that first day, black suit and scowl in tow, and slouches into the seat at the back of the class next to Chloe, prim and proper, glowering all the while. He catches Lila’s eye immediately, with his tangible air of wealth and power, the sheer amount of usefulness he seems to hold in his brooding body. 

Of course, her interest lasts exactly as long as it takes for Felix to make it very clear that he has absolutely no interest in her, no matter how much she lies or cajoles him into joining the rest of the class. 

“Hey, Felix!” She starts by sidling up to him, turns on the charm she thinks she has. She’s got him pegged, she’s sure of it: a pretty boy like that, all dark and mysterious, has got to want space to be sensitive and vulnerable. He longs to be their friend, and Lila knows it. All she has to do is give him a chance. 

Then he immediately declines her exclusive invite to the Winter Social After-Party (hosted by her, of course), leaving the split halves of her invitation to flutter pathetically to the ground.

“I prefer to spend my time with people of consequence, thanks.”

Just like that, Lila is left scrambling to piece together the torn shreds of her plan. Alright, then. If he won’t be friends with her, he won’t be friends with anyone. 

She lets her gaggle of admirers reassure her over and over that “He was so mean to you, Lila! How could he say such a thing?”, that of course she doesn’t have to associate with a bully (no matter how sweet and generous and self-sacrificing she is, oh!), Lila makes it her business to meticulously bar Felix from each and every social circle she can manage. 

Irritatingly, this suits Felix just fine. He sits at the back of the class every day next to Chloe, making it seem like the back was something to choose instead of somewhere that the lowest echelons of the class, the dregs of society, were banished to. 

Marinette has gotten used to watching the back. She could be exiled at any moment, after all. So she’s seen the way Chloe doesn’t cling to Felix and heard the way Lila and Alya whisper snide comments from their seats next to her just quietly enough that she can’t hear without asking, watched them stiffen and shush on the occasion Felix walks by their table. A slight nervous fidget. A muttered “speak of the devil.” 

Marinette knows that associating with Felix is a social death sentence. She also knows that he makes Lila uncomfortable, off balance. Most of all, she knows that her own social life is hanging by a thread. Marinette is done waiting for someone else to cut the string and send her crashing. Her life is not meant to be waiting for someone else’s choices. 

She finds him at lunch at the backmost table by the trash cans, the table of outcasts and degenerates, lounging in the shade of a tree. Sunlight filters through the leaves, casting him a mottled medley of light and darkness until a cloud passes overhead and sends his features into shadow. He picks at his plate, a vulture seeking a soft patch of flesh.

“Hey.” 

He looks up, but not directly at her. He doesn’t respond. The fork hangs suspended a little above the plate.

“I’m Marinette. You’re Felix, right? I know Lila’s turned the class against you, and that’s pretty rough. I’ve been there. I’m actually still kind of there. I know you already have Chloe, I’d like to be your friend too.” She sits opposite him and begins eating with an air of determined purpose. He waits a long moment. 

“I don’t need friends.” He spits at last. 

Marinette pauses between bites. “Let me be clear. I’m not giving you a choice about this. Call it a partnership if you want, a merger of interests, whatever. Lila is going to wreck you and you could do worse than to have someone who knows exactly what her game is working with you.”

“...I see. And what exactly do you know?” He goes back to eating, unconvinced and dripping with condescension. 

“You know Lila is lying, obviously. Do you know why?” 

“I know very well why.” He says, a sharp edge of arrogance entering into his voice “She makes people like her to get what she wants. I’ve known people like her.”

“And what does she want from you?”

“I’m rich.” 

“You’re cold. You’re standoffish and mean and an absolute prick. You’re an easy target to make her look good. She’s going to be out here doing her best to be your friend,” and she spits that word like a curse too, “and you’re going to ‘bully’ her, turn down her made up offers and snub her parties, and she’ll say it’s because you think you’re too good to hang out with them but of course she doesn’t think that! She wants to see the best in you! Until the rest of the class hates you, thinks you're the worst person on the planet for daring to breathe the same air as them.” 

He goes silent then, fork still frozen in the air as his knuckles grow bone-white on the gleaming metal. After a long moment, he adds “What do I care? This nobody school doesn’t matter to me, and neither does anyone in it...” He hesitates, glancing at the seat next to him, then returns with renewed vitriol. “What value does this have to me?”

Marinette scoffs. “You of all people should know better than that. We’re insanely well connected, didn’t you know? Rose is friends with Prince Ali. Juleka is in Kitty Section, which has been aired on TV. Adrien is… Adrien, and you already know Chloe. Alya runs the most popular superhero blog in Paris. And as much as I hate to brag, I’ve won competitions for Gabriel Agreste, I’ve worked with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, I’m the costumer for Kitty Section, I’ve been on TV, and you’d better well take me seriously! You think these people won’t figure out who you care about and leave it in ruins for you to cry in the ashes of?! Just because they haven’t yet doesn’t mean they never will.” She hesitates. “You don’t know them like I do. They’re insanely loyal.” 

“Not to you,” he scoffs.

“That’s the problem.” 

Silence hangs thick in the air. At long last, gives a small, conciliatory nod. “I… see. Perhaps this could be a… profitable arrangement.”

Marinette gazes sardonically at him, as he begins to flounder with his hands, reaching out for a hug and then a handshake, shimmying awkwardly in place. She waits a moment, amused, then sticks her hand out for him to shake. 

He takes it. 

“This is what you were going for, right? It’s your signature move.” Her voice shifts suddenly into something playful and light, and Felix is knocked off balance. This is… different. 

He sputters. “It seemed… appropriate for our agreement, okay!” 

“It’s called a ‘friendship’, you know.” Marinette sticks out her tongue and winks. 

Felix blushes. “I wasn’t… I didn’t… it’s an unfamiliar phrasing… for me.” 

“I’ll help you get used to it,” she promises, “That’s what friends are for!”

He chuckles a bit, an uneasy, unpracticed sound. Marinette smiles, genuinely this time, and they settle in to eat in comfortable silence.

It becomes a familiar habit, an easy routine: Marinette joins Felix for lunch, jokes around and teases him until he’s bright pink and laughing, then slips away once Chloe makes an appearance. She waits for him after class on the days Chloe rushes off early, and finds herself walking home with him, the space between them shrinking each day.

Felix finds himself having parallel conversations, one snide and one almost curious, both vulnerable and resigned to losing the only friend they have left, offering their own selves up for sacrifice as if it would hurt less if they gave it freely instead of having it torn from them. 

“Why do you even hang out with her?” Chloe and Marinette both ask him. 

“You two are a lot alike, you know. You’d never see it in her, but you’re also not looking. You should.”

That’s all he’ll say about it, and they learn not to push. 

One day, Chloe shows up early, and Marinette is left scrambling to pull the leftovers of her lunch together, clumsier in her rush than she ever is. She sits down on the bench, shoving Marinette over and announcing that she’ll be “slumming it with the commoners, actually,” and won’t be eating at her hotel anymore. Her eyes look every direction but Marinette’s.

“Alright,” Felix responds placidly. He picks up his lunch and walks around the bench, settling back in next to Marinette. “Please don’t push my friends around, Chloe.” 

“Well, I--” Chloe is taken aback, hurt. “The rule has always been that she’ll leave when I show up! I’m here now, so she can shove right out of here, thanks.” 

Marinette sputters. “We had an agreement! You get half of lunch and all of class and it’s not like that’s less time than I get, and I was about to leave anyways but now I don’t think I will. Thanks.”

“He’s my friend! You and I both know he’s only tolerating you because of who you know,” and at that Chloe glances over to the rest of the class sprawled out on the grass, giggling over Lila’s latest fantasy adventure. 

Something like hellfire burns in Marinette’s chest and she swallows it down. 

“Fine. I’ll leave.” 

Felix moves faster than anyone, standing up and gathering her lunch in his arms, tucking it gently into her bag. He swings her backpack onto his arm, which looks wildly out of place with its cheerful pink against his dour grey vest, and then gently pulls her hand into his. 

“I’ll leave with you, Marinette.” 

Chloe gapes, eyes bulging, an ugly startled expression that Felix knows she isn’t faking. 

“You’re going to choose her over me?” For once her voice is quiet. 

“...I can’t let you pull me wherever you want, Chloe. Marinette is my fr-- my friend. Just like you are.” 

“Why not?!”

Marinette lets Felix pull her up, his arm wrapping around her waist, and then pauses uncomfortably, standing where she is. 

“...look. Do you want to just come with us? Felix keeps saying we’re alike. Maybe it’s time to find out why.” 

Chloe’s face contorted into an unpleasant grimace, as if she’d just swallowed the bitterest pill in the world and, grudgingly, came out the healthier for it.

“I… what are you doing, Marinette? We don’t like each other. That’s what we do.”

“...yeah, well.” Marinette glances over at the class again. “I could use another friend. Couldn’t you?” 

Felix grins. “Or a business partner!” 

“...I could manage business partners, probably.” Chloe smirks and Marinette smiles back when Chloe reaches out to shake her hand. 

“You two are so alike! It’s so cute that you’re getting along.” Lila’s saccharine voice cuts through their tentative conversation and sends them startling. Alya’s just a few steps behind her, scurrying to follow with Lila’s bag clutched in her arms. It would be worrying how much she looks like Sabrina, if Marinette still had it in her to care. Months of passive aggressiveness and constantly being in the wrong had taken its toll on her, and she was done. Isn’t that why she had sought out Felix to begin with? 

Felix is already helping her up again, pulling her up from the bench as Chloe storms up to Lila only to brush past her, shoving her shoulder into Lila’s chest. Alya catches sight of Felix’s arm around Marinette’s waist, and calls out. 

“You’re really going to make a deal with the devil, Marinette? Is that how low you’ve sunk?” Alya’s voice is uncharacteristically malicious. “You won’t be friends with Lila, you antagonize her, bully her, and now you’re befriending her bully? This is the person you want to be? Ugh. I can’t believe I ever thought you were worth being my friend.” 

Chloe pauses, halfway between the table and the door to the classroom, and spins around on her heel, snapping into place with a confident click. The old smirk is back now, given a new purpose.

“Actually, Alya Cesaire, you aren’t worth her friendship.”

Alya is frozen in something in the middle of furious and offended and gaping, humiliation shock, and Marinette is frozen right there with her. Hesitantly, gazing at Chloe in shock, she sidles a little closer to her. Chloe is still going.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hate this goody two shoes queen of perfection, but you? Have you forgotten when she’s done for you? After all the terrible advice you’ve given her over the last year, I’d think you’d be on your knees begging her to stay. After all, isn’t she the one who helped you get an interview with Ladybug for your blog? No one had even heard of it until then. And she was the one that helped you go on dates with Nino while she babysat. She’s the one that brings you cookies every morning and coffee when you’re tired and lets you crash at her place. You think she should be waiting for you? Darling, you’ve gone and lost what little mind you had left. You have no idea what you’re pushing away.”

Marinette can’t figure out what has possessed Chloe, to say all these words in Marinette’s defense that have been burning a hole in Marinette’s chest for so long but have never quite found their way out. She doesn’t even know how Chloe knows all this. She gapes at Chloe in newfound admiration and awe, suddenly aware of how the same venom that Chloe had always drowned Marinette in can be used to pull her back up. 

Felix is getting impatient at the door, and Marinette slips her hand around Chloe’s wrist to pull her away. Chloe doesn’t stop, just redirects her attention to Marinette, flipping her ponytail back behind her like she’s dismissing Alya and Lila. 

“What. An. Idiot. You know?” 

Marinette gapes for a moment and then bursts into giggles. “You’re right!”

“Like, I don’t like you but at least I can recognize the value you have as a friend.”

Chloe determinedly doesn’t look at Marinette as she says it, and Marinette doesn’t respond for a long moment. When she does, she squeezes her hand still wrapped around Chloe’s wrist and goes quiet, soft, fond. 

“I like you too, Chloe. I’m glad we’re going to be friends now.” 

Felix grabs Marinette’s other hand as they get to the doors. 

“Business partners, huh?” 

Both girls stick their tongues out at him. 

Alya watches them leave, her hands crumpling into angry fists. She manages two furious, determined steps after them before Lila summons her back.

“Wait.”

She’s sitting at the table now, lounging across the seat like a traitor on a newly conquered throne. Alya turns back to her. Her mouth, gaping a moment ago, has hardened into a razor-tight line. 

“Let them go. They’re not worth you, Alya. They’re being bad friends. What was that you told me about Felix? You don’t have to associate yourself with bullies, right? C’mon. Let's have lunch!” She swings her legs back over and starts making her way over to the shaded grass under the trees, settling with her feet tucked under her. Lila stretches out a hand, nails manicured and neat, and waits until Alya takes it. 

Lila pulls Alya down, and grins with all her teeth bared.

[ernmark]

The Heart of it All (pt 1) Reaction

Spoilers under the cut

The episode begins with a sound like a mechanical heartbeat, like an EKG. I like that.

----

A year. A year timeskip since the last episode. Holy crap.

First of all, that’s a hell of a long engagement-- far longer than necessary, I think, and I think Vespa observed as much, too. Buddy’s putting off the big mission (and in turn, the wedding) because she’s scared of what comes next. I feel like she needs to have a conversation with Juno about that-- about running away from the things you want most because you’re scared, except she does it with more style.

I love the soft, gentle way Vespa talks to Buddy-- and the way she starts to babble when she gets excited-- and then when Buddy puts her off a little bit of that raw roughness creeps back in. I’d want to hug her if I didn’t think it would kill me.

Also, I love the montage of moments in between-- there’s plenty of room for fanfic in this year, no doubt about it. “Bad Cops 4: Guns Are Illegal, So They Use Swords Now”. Juno being pissy that they skipped his favorite in the series, the fact that Jet thinks car crashes are too violent but people getting murdered to death is totally hilarious. Rita calling Buddy “Mom”.

----

The moment in privacy with her and Jet was really telling-- and not just the evidence of just how much of her is robotic. This is a side of her we just don’t see elsewhere. She’s fronting, she’s evasive, she laughs nervously and without that controlled glamour she always has. She’s never this vulnerable around anyone else, even Vespa. (And you can bet Vespa can sense that there’s something Buddy’s hiding from her, and a secret layer of rawness that she isn’t allowed to touch, and you can hear how much that hurts her). And for all this closeness, Jet still catches her off guard-- and he’s been picking up perceptiveness from Juno, which I love. 

----

“Damn. She’s a quick one, that Buddy Aurinko. Ever a thorn in my side.” It’s telling just how many times we’ve dealt with our POV characters speaking of past and future selves as different people. It’s very much A Thing, and I want to see it manifested physically by the finale, because I’m obvious like that.

-----

One of the things that makes me really frustrated with Buddy is that by trying to protect Vespa, she’s making her more nervous. Vespa’s not an idiot, she knows something’s wrong-- but without Buddy to help her understand it, Vespa’s stuck trying to guess randomly, and her mental illness is going to supply all sorts of worst case scenarios that Buddy wouldn’t dream of.

And Vespa? Vespa fell from a hundreds-story building and lived. Do you really think she managed that without some really intensive self-surgery? It’s not impossible that she has some bionics of her own. And even if she doesn’t, do you really think she’s never worked with machines and bionic parts before? And if she hasn’t, don’t you think she of all people-- the assassin, the thief, the master medic-- would be able to figure something out? Or find someone who could? 

Buddy’s fear and pride are sabotaging her happiness. And that makes sense, because her pride is the first thing we knew about her. It’s one of her best features. Of course it would be her greatest flaw. 

-----

I love that Buddy has to write out her speeches ahead of time, and critiques herself for repeating lines even when nobody else can hear them both.

(And immediately I wonder what she’d have to say about how much I repeat myself, and immediately I can think of her reply: “Nonsense, dear. If there’s no room to improve then you’re doomed to get worse or go stale. Make your mistakes so you can learn from them and then go make some new ones.”)

----

I find it so interesting that Buddy is impeccably organized and Peter is just a big ol’ mess-- to the point where you literally can’t tell whether his room is booby trapped or just that sloppy (And even if he is Just That Sloppy, who the fuck keeps an unsheathed knife just lying there, in the open? Really, Peter.)

(Also, I think it is official that all their “poetry readings”, “therapy sessions” and “whatever” happen in Juno’s room, at least after the first couple of weeks. What the fuck.)

----

“Jet’s danger is nothing compared to what lies ahead”. 

In typical tiered dungeon story style, we’ve eliminated Rita (at the door) and Jet (upon being shot). 

That leaves theoretically three tasks for Vespa, Juno, and Peter. 

These three characters specifically are each love interests in a major established, endgame couple, which would ordinarily be a quick way to suss out who’s in which role.

Also, there’s a weird triangle of protagonist/antagonist going on here. Because Juno’s thwarted Vespa to protect Peter, but Vespa’s major gripe is with Peter, not Juno. And Juno believes and trusts Vespa, despite their bickering. And as much as he loves and trusts Peter, he has on multiple times arrested, thwarted, and called him out. 

It’s like this whole situation is designed to thwart trope-readers like me.

My guess is that Vespa is going to have the be left behind/turn back at the end of this episode, when Buddy tells her the truth about her heart. That’ll leave Juno and Peter alone in the next chamber, when Juno finally confronts Peter about what he’s figured out thusfar (as the POV character, of course). 

Or Vespa runs back early to rescue Buddy from heart failure with Jet, gets furious with Buddy for keeping this Very Big Thing from her, and then goes back to Juno and Peter to finish the job in a seething (and possibly murderous) rage. 

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

In which I chronicle my Legacy of Kain journey and bridge it with your boy Adam Warlock! (Part 5 of many, and MASSIVE, I MEAN, HUMOUNGOUS SPOILERS for Soul Reaver 2 and the 1970’s Warlock)

Awwwwwwwww yeah we are going there, these compositions are most definitely on purpose.

This is where I realize that my true purpose in this world is to draw and talk about obscure or forgotten works of fiction, and I embrace this destiny. 

Ladies and gents, laughing times are over (not really though), sh*t gets very real again.

I guess it’s a bit late for this but if you have even the slightest interest in checking any of these properties out, do yourself a favor and go experience them first hand. If you just want to see me lose my mind and don’t really care about spoilers then please, proceed.

You know, when I started this little crossover of sorts, I was just having a laugh you know? It was just a cute little thing, I’ll write this one post and maybe I’ll get enough material for a second one and that’s it. THIS IS THE SEVENTH POST (even though it says Part 5). 

Never, and I do mean never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be here one day, talking about having your past and your time-travelling-future selves meet and clash, of seeing your sanctimonious attitude and overall the worst about yourself personified and given free reign to go on bloodthirsty crusades showing off how much of a hypocrite you’ve bee- but wait, I am getting a bit ahead of myself. 

I’ll get there I promise, let’s go back a bit.

Where we last left off, we managed to travel back to an even more distant past than we’ve been before. To the time of the great Vampire Purge, so that Raziel can meet this infamous ancient vampire who knows all the lore and might have the answers we seek on what exactly is causing the corruption of our world.

As we step out into this era of History we notice the fields covered with the Sarafan Order banners, and the impaled corpses and chopped-off heads of vampires. No different no doubt from the kindness vampires showed mankind later when they gained the upper hand during Kain’s 1.000 year old reign. Raziel seems a bit distraught by the sight since he assumed the Sarafan to be virtuous and heroic:

“For all the butchery of Moebius’s crusade, this massacre was somehow more chilling. The killing fields of the Sarafan betrayed a kind of orderly ruthlessness, the cold-blooded righteousness of the true believer.”

“Here at last in the flesh, I beheld my former brothers-in-arms, the warrior-priests of the Sarafan order; their lives devoted solely to the annihilation of the vampire plague. And while I confess I felt a twinge of longing, a pang of grief for what I had believed was my lost virtue, I regarded them now with none of the reverence I formally felt. For I had seen the human face of the vampires, and now I beheld the monstrousness of these men.”

While on the topic of genocidal holy wars, my boy Adam here had a bit of a run with a similar pious little group that goes by the name of Universal Church of Truth, who were going about doing a bit of cleaning throughout the galaxy:

Things don’t go so well:

Interestingly enough, I’ve learned of a deleted cutscene for Soul Reaver 2 that plays out very similarly to Adam’s first encounter with this “holy” order. There was this minor female vampire character that was being hunted down and would be executed by vampire hunters right in front of Raziel.

This scene was probably removed because they knew that almost 20 years later there would be some asshole on the internet trying to compare their games to obscure marvel comics of the 70’s.

But yeah bummer for Adam here, we’re a couple of pages in and he’s already failed to save someone. However, through the power of the Soul Gem, he’s able to retain her soul for a brief moment, letting us know more about these holy inquisitors:

Some of these methods don’t seem that far off from the Sarafan, especially on the twisting of good intentions part, but on a galactic scale:

Aye, a great bunch o’ fellas all around, if you submit and “fit in”:

Damn.

Hush Adam, I’ll get back to your predicament give me a moment. I just want the good people at home to keep both this church and the Magus, the god they worship in mind for later.

Now, back to the game. In the Sarafan Stronghold during the first hour of gameplay, Raziel made comments on the vampire he’s currently seeking while looking at some stained glass depictions:

“So this was the legendary Janos Audron - reputed to have been the most ancient and diabolical vampire to have ever existed. According to folklore, he lived high in the cliffs of Nosgoth’s northern mountains, and preyed mercilessly on the defenseless villagers below. His reign of terror ended when the Sarafan finally hunted him down and tore his throbbing heart from his still-living body. (…) But I wondered - could Janos Audron truly have been as monstrous as depicted here? Or was this merely artistic licence by the Sarafan, who sought to lionize themselves by demonizing their darkest enemy?

Keep these stained glass images in mind, they’ll also be important shortly. Neetheless to say, the hype was very real to meet this Janos Audron.

And as I kept hearing about this gentleman, I thought: “I really love this cast of pricks, where everyone speaks in half truths and is hiding something and has some hidden agenda, but you know, I kind of wish there was some slim ray of hope, of goodness and honor, just some good old plain chivalry and honesty. Maybe this Janos lad won’t be as bad as he was depicted back in the Sarafan Stronghold.” 

It took us a while but we’re finally make it to his retreat.

I really love the entire segment, the hopelessness and feeling of dread while making your way through this place, probably my favourite puzzle area of the game.  I also really love the music and architecture here.

When we do make it to the top, BOY OH BOY were my prayers answered!

Lo and behold, enter Raziel’s new daddy/mentor figure, my man JANOS AUDRON! Proabably the one decent and kind creature I’ve seen yet in these games (if you don’t count helpless human npcs who are just trying to live their lives but are caught in all these wars, slaughter and destruction).

FINALLY an understanding, moderate, compassionate man in the midst of all the lies and deception. I love him! Oh and he has what seems to be a Romanian accent. Maybe a nod to the granddaddy of all vampires: Dracula? I think his design is cool as well, so that helps.

Before we go into huge lore dumps and while on the topic of having a brief father/mentor figure for your protagonist when he’s utterly lost, alone and confused, I thought I’d bridge it with Adam’s own once foster parent, the High Evolutionary:

From the few minutes you get to know these dads they’re very different characters with different backstories and motivations. Janos is this sad lonely old man, the last of the ancient vampires and one who has been keeping himself alive solely for his sense of duty. 

While the High Evolutionary was once a man called Herbert Wyndham who performed an experiment that evolved him into a godlike being. This experience proved to be such an assault on his senses and perceptions that he chose to encase himself in this armour. Like the name suggests he is obsessed with genetic manipulation and tampering of various kinds, it is his life’s ambition. 

Despite his somewhat villainous appearance, he’s never portrayed as such from what little I’ve read, he’s just…a bit creepy. Like, he takes Adam in and is super stoked about adopting him, but he also values him not so much as a person per se as you and me would, but more as one would value an impressivly carved piece of work:

I don’t know, maybe it’s his metal face that doesn’t emote much; his sometimes questionable morality; maybe it’s the fact that Adam was 5 years old at this point, a baby boy, and this pink armoured deity is super hyped about him; there’s something a bit unsettling about this guy. Have some more dubious quotes I’ve stumbled upon:

All in all, I think he did care about him, in his own strange way:

Anyway, what’s important is that these adoptive dads serve a somewhat similar purpose, and that is to push/urge our ”“”“"heroes”“”“” (I say with many quotation marks) into a more benevolant role: to guide them in their messianic mission and save a corrupted world. Basically there to provide a chance for them to be good boys. Up until now their track record leaves much to be desired, and they’ve been quite lost on what they’re supposed to be and do.

Raziel:

“So it’s all true, then - what Kain and Vorador have told me - I really am some kind of unholy vampire messiah…”

Janos:

“Unholy? -no. Messiah… perhaps.”

Raziel:

“I don’t like that word - it smells of martyrdom.”

Janos:

“Raziel, your role in this world’s destiny is more crucial - and more benevolent - than you’ve allowed yourself to believe. Your journey will not be easy - dark powers are allied against you.”

Oh and both dads give their sons their toys (Soul Reaver and Soul Gem):

Back to the meeting with Janos, we finally learn tons of things, both new and others that have been hinted at throughout, namely:

Janos has been living a life of a recluse, alone, on top of the Aerie;

Janos knows of Raziel (some old legend I think) and has been waiting for him to hand him over the Soul Reaver, saying it is the key to save Nosgoth;

The Pillars of Nosgoth were erected by the ancient vampires and they were the rightful guardians. Janos was called to be th 10th guardian, the Keeper of the Reaver;

Over time this ancient race started to die out, with their history slowly being forgotten;

Humanity prospered and since the Pillars choose their guardians from birth and vampires were no longer born, humans were called to be their guardians but were “wholly ignorant of their true purpose.”

The Circle of human guardians is led to believe (by whom we do not yet know) that vampires are a cancer in the world. Janos warns that “with their vampire purge, the members of the Circle have assaulted the very architects of the Pillars they are sworn to protect (…) With every vampire they kill, the humans are slitting their own throats.”

Janos being a cool level-headed guy here when Raziel says he must hate mankind for all the suffering they’ve brought to him:

“They fear what they don’t understand; and they despise what they fear. But no - I do not hate them.”

I find it funny how Raziel asks if humanity should be forgiven for trying to exterminate the vampire kind and doesn’t realize that: one, he himself was exterminating vampires just a couple of moments ago back in SR1; and two, how he is just like how Janos describes humanity to be:

“They don’t understand what they’re doing. They are simply unenlightened… and vulnerable to manipulation.”

Again, this last line, completely unlike a certain blue shambling corpse I know. Not like him AT ALL.

Then, as they head inside, we learn something odd as Janos presents Raziel with the Reaver. You see, the two times Raziel has been close to the Soul Reaver still in its physical form, reality started to bend and distort (I show it off in this previous post). 

When we met Kain and decided not to kill him, he explained that when: “two incarnations of the blade meet in time and space, a paradox is  created, a temporal distortion powerful enough to derail history”

This distortion, or sense of displacement however, is nowhere to be found now when Janos presents the blade to him. Raziel feels nothing and says that “this nothingness is somehow worse…” and to get it away from him.

We learn the Reaver was forged by the same ancient vampire race that erected the Pillars (which we’ve seen hinted at when we explored the land and came accross all sorts of old murals).

But now THIS is when the game first impales me through the heart.

Me and Janos are interrupted by the Sarafan warriors who arrive carrying Moebius’ Staff (which disables vampires to the point of being barely able to move at all).

And of course! OF COURSE! Of course the moment my boy Raziel finds a truly positive influence in his life to guide and enlinghten him, and that was willing to put himself in danger in order to save him… he is axed! HEART RIPPED FROM HIS CHEST!

And by whom you ask? Who would do such a deed and kill my last ray of hope?

WHY, ME! 

TWICE!

“Me” because I was the one to open an entrance to Janos’ up until then impenetrable retreat, and literally me: human Raziel of the Sarafan that lived during this time period and was head inquisitor!

A bit different from what was depicted back at the Sarafan Stronghold, we found several centuries later (putting the same image here again so you don’t have to scroll up to compare, am I swell or what?):

The Sarafan escape with Janos’ heart and the Reaver, while wraith Raziel has a final moment with Janos. 

This part destroys me:

Raziel:

“Forgive me; I’m sorry… I failed you.”

Janos: (gently)

“No, Raziel. Perhaps this was my true purpose - simply to save your life this once.”

Raziel: (distraught)

“While I have taken yours…”

That last bit is probably my favourite line-read in the entire series so far (which is the most impossible thing to choose since there are so many great ones). But I think it’s the overwhelming sadness in Raziel’s voice that makes it memorable, you’ve never seen him feel like this for another creature.

Breaks my stone hardened heart every time I listen to it. And here’s why I think it’s an effective emotional scene, even though we only get a few minutes with Janos before he is murdered - it is because of contrast. Up until now everyone you meet is some degree of a bad or manipulative person, and you don’t really have a true friend or someone to confide in, there’s no one that really brings out the best in Raziel and it sucks because there is potential there.  So when you introduce the apparently only decent and noble person in this god forsaken land and you’re so used to by now suspect and mistrust everyone, it is impactful because he was truth and honesty in a sea of deception and moral relativism. He was my light in the midst of the fog and the one who saw good in me. And right when you’re finally relaxing and getting confortable the game pulls the rug from under you.

Now, while on the topic of having your past and future meet, there was a little something about the meeting between Adam and the Universal Church of Truth that I’ve been saving up until now. If you remember, Adam was interrogating the young woman who was killed by the inquisitors about the church and the god they worship. When suddenly:

Good news is, Adam must’ve taken a left turn somewhere and ended up on the set for “Monty Python’s Life of Brian”, where he learned some latin:

This helped him quickly figure out the Magus’ identity:

Learn your dead tongues kids, you never know when it might come in handy when meeting your time travelling, thousands of years old future-self:

So as you can se, we have a similar self-discovery journey going on but reversed in a way. In Raziel’s case you play as his future self, who time travels back in time, meets his past self and sees what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. In Adam’s case you follow his present self, who meets the Magus (his future self), who has travelled back in time 5.000 years, in which time he has built his empire. Meeting and confronting said empire/future self, leads Adam to see what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. You see, both Adam and Raziel have always been their own worst enemy (their own shortcomings and character flaws). So it would be only natural that we get embodiments of the worst in them: Raziel, the human Sarafan Warrior and the Magus, their past and future selves respectively.

Oof, this was a long one, and I’ve reach the character limit. In the next post I’ll elaborate more on their characters and different selves; and we go through the roller-coaster of emotions that is the endgame for both these stories.

Look foward to me losing my mind even further while I go into time travelling, paradox shenanigans… oh, and look foward to happier times with COSMIC SUICIDE! See you in the near future.

[intpstyle]

Detective Conan Meta: Trauma, being seen & the Inner Child

Okay, so it’s 6AM and I woke up with this essay half-formed in my mind and I need to talk about DC. Yesterday, I saw a quote on tumblr that read

“to be loved is to be seen”

and it literally haunted my dreams. I dreamt of Shinichi being unable to tell Ran who he is for so long now (we won’t go into the half a year debate (in this post)) and it got me thinking about the unbearable loneliness of it all. Then I thought of Heiji and of how liberating it must be for Shinichi that some people do know him for who he really is - that some people see him, that some people are able to love him, all of him, because they’ve recognised him even when he looks like a child. And that got a chain reaction of symbolism going in my brain because THINK ABOUT IT, Shinichi is literally forced to live as his own inner child.

So, we open with this lovably weird 17-year-old (fuck no, in the manga he’s actually only 16) with barely any survival skills who’s been left alone in a huge mansion because his parents went adios, who doesn’t have a whole lot of close friends because he always found it difficult to connect with others because he’s so focussed on his detective work and who, when he finally manages to ask the love of his life out on a date and inevitably stumbles over another murder, claims that “you get used to it”, that corpses don’t affect him, that nothing really affects him and, worst of all, he actually means it. This is our protagonist. He’s All Grown Up. He always tried to be All Grown Up. Frankly, with parents like these, he always had to be All Grown Up. And it’s okay! Because he found something he loves doing (finding the truth, restoring justice, helping people) and he’s good at it and people actually love him for it (look at all these fan letters, Ran, look at them!)

And then Ran (bless you, angel child) starts crying because - because so many reasons. One, she’s still affected by what happened. Two, she sees the love of her life being strong - and he always has and had to be strong; it must be so bloody exhausting and he’s not even aware of how tired he is, but to ask him to take a break, to take a look at what all this death and suffering and loneliness really means, to take it in, to stop, would be to take the one thing away (apart from her, but she doesn’t know that) that keeps him stable and grounded and to risk having him fall apart. I don’t think she knows this consciously, but Ran is empathetic and has been around Shinichi all her life - this, I think, is the moment it really hits her that this brutality (a literal decapitated corpse that spews blood like a fountain on a roller coaster!!!) has become her best friend’s “normal”. She is scared. She is worried. And she shows it.

And then Shinichi (bless you, cool child) tries to play it down, to make her feel better, to show her that this is nothing to despair over. He, too, is trying to be considerate of this incredible girl who always takes on other people’s burdens and their pain and grins and bears it. But it isn’t all compassion - he frankly also does not have the tools to deal with someone being so vulnerable and innocent and, dare I say?, child-like. And what does he do? Does he stay and engage with her side of things? Does he hear her out and consider that he HAS become callous and somewhat addicted to shedding light on the dark sides of other people? That he feels uncomfortable feeling the light turned back on himself? No! No, of course not! He’s 16 and has the emotional range of a tea spoon (#relatable). Instead, he latches onto the next sign of mystery and turns back to his quest for truth where he feels safe and needed. He LITERALLY tells Ran to “go ahead” and that he’ll “catch up” and boy, will he ever (emotionally).

We all know what happens next: he bites off more than he can chew. He stumbles over a case that even he admits is “serious” and is LITERALLY hit over the head with the realisation that this - socio-economic corruption, systemic criminal organisations, being vulnerable and opening up to a loved one - is the world of adults and he is NOT ready for it. So he, like everybody else, is given the choice to call it quits or to choose life, start over and re-learn the things he missed out in childhood to become an adult. He becomes his inner child again (the first chapter literally ends with the dialogue

“You okay!? Can you stand up, little boy?”

“Huh?”

and he’s trying. He’s trying to stand up, okay?) and it smarts. In this old/new form, he is taken care of, but not taken taken seriously by the policemen (”You must’ve been scared”) and it freaks him out that they treat him (the master detective!) like a child again. At this height, he fails to get into his own house (some more symbolism right there) and he is not recognised by Professor Agasa until he shows him some impressive deduction work, demonstrating that this really is at the core of his character - he enjoys and is good at mysteries. That was never the problem. Neglecting just about everything else was (- the same goes for OG Holmes, I’d argue). Seeing how the situation he went through literally (damn that’s a lot of literally) turned Shinichi back into a child, Professor Agasa warns him not to inflict the same traumatic damage on others - especially since the situation is not yet resolved. (...but Agasa’s involvement is another can of worms)

There’s a whole other post in Shinichi’s choice to call himself “Conan Edogawa” and wearing his father’s glasses as well (aka trying to redefine his identity by viewing the world through the lense of the people he admired (notably his father’s frames without the lenses though!)), but the most interesting thing happens when Ran shows up. He tries, desperately, not to be recognised - not to be seen - by her in this form because it’s not HIM (it is though) and because it would involve Ran in danger; would put her in the adult world he couldn’t deal with and couldn’t protect her from, thus, ironically, infantilising her and (although in an attempt to be heroic, nonetheless still) limiting her agency.

And this is where the irony really kicks in - because Ran finds it much easier to talk to this raw, vulnerable version of himself that he doesn’t allow her to see as a “grown-up” 16-year-old. It is now, as a child that asks straight-forward questions, that he learns that Ran really does love him and that she knows the good (dependable, brave & cool), as well as the bad (full of himself, bit of a jerk and obsessed with mysteries) sides of him better than he does. At the very moment, he, touched by her vulnerability and wanting to open up, decides to tell her the truth, he is again reminded of the Men in Black by Kogoro falling down the stairs like a sack of potatoes and he (dependable, brave & cool) decides not to involve anyone in the mess he brought upon himself until he can stand up to the world of adulthood that he shrank from.

The beauty of the series is that Shinichi slowly realises, bit by bit, drop by drop, excruciating chapter after excruciating chapter, that the way for him (an INTP) to become an adult is precisely by letting others see him as he is and thus forming lasting, real and dependable relationships (by developing his Fe). This tragically begins with Akemi Miyano (a first step and another reminder that he is not capable enough yet), is slowly built up with the Detective Boys (who are honestly so important for him), continues with Ai (#bestpartners, for both of whom Professor Agasa, the eternal child-inventor, is a safe haven where they can catch up on what they missed out on, Ai obviously much more so than Conan), reaches a really, really sweet high with Heiji (#bestbromance), a rather dissatisfying conclusion with his parents (who, and I cannot stress this enough, decide the best way to convince their traumatised son that his life is in danger is to point a literal gun (okay, it’s a pistol) at his face in disguise) and climaxes with Eisuke Hondo (at which point he is confident enough to proclaim who he is even while still in the form of a child (although that doesn’t make the context of the situation any less stupid (thus proving that he IS still a love-struck teenager at the end of the day))). tl;dr By being both the professional adult “Sleeping Kogoro”, as well as the cooky child “Conan Edogawa” at once, Shinichi can play with both facets of his teenage life until he reaches a level of stability that allows him to integrate the child mind into his adult mind - and that will be the point at which he’ll be able to fully become (not just temporarily play the role of) Shinichi Kudo.

PS: It is also interesting to compare Ai’s and Shinichi’s approaches to being stuck in their childhood selves. Shinichi, not as scarred and slowly building up a network of people he trusts, is eager to move on and begs Ai to give him the temporary antidote as often as he can - he WANTS to grow up and be a grown-up so badly. There is so much (Ran) waiting for him there.

Ai, on the other hand, is much more cautious and warns him not to jump the gun. To her, much more scarred and still rather alone, this is an invaluable second shot at life and she is as careful with it as she humanly can, constantly worrying and on the look-out that someone could drag her back to the prison of responsibilities and obligations. That’s why it was SUCH a pivotal moment for her when she used and realised the use of her adult form when she saved the Detective Boys from the fire. She, too, is slowly connecting the two halves of herself but I suspect that it’ll take her an entire childhood to do so. (Also, interestingly, as an INTJ, she puts down her roots in a very different way from Conan. She cherishes her new relationships and protects them fiercely, but the real signs of her settling down ever-so-slowly is her growing willingness to reconstruct her internal moral system (Fi) and to acquire and find security in material possessions (Se), like her designer handbags and her little football-man-phone-strap.)

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

You Should See Me in A Crown Chapter 3

Summary:   The team goes to Gotham, looking for a new place to play in. They find one, they also find a bat, a few birds and maybe a new friend for them to play with.

Warnings: Dark AU, this chapter has sex references.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The team had once already taken over a city’s underground. All it took was finding the right places and pushing. Money, blackmail, leaving someone alive… it was all so simple. 

 Gotham was different they were discovering- only in that people like Black Mask or Penguin had their hands in things.  Both were different from the criminals they had dealt with before, or even Akumas. However, they did what they did best.

 They divided and researched and conquered.

 “Penguin is black market- not our scene,” Alya said as she left the illusion of Stacy Jones, cocktail waitress at the Iceberg lounge drift away to leave her in her normal attire. “He doesn’t like drugs- he threw out a girl using them- and he prefers making his own guns.”

 “So, we offer an alliance when we’re big enough,” Marinette said as she put aside the book she was designing her dress for the gala in. “Black Mask?”

 “A freak.” Alya sniffed. “I mean- good for him, he’s done good work but ugh.”

 “Gotta respect what that man’s done but he’s a freak,” Nino said.

 “Aren’t we?” Marinette asked playfully. They snorted.

 “Got us there. Honestly- he’ll take some time to get rid of. Or fold into our empire- either one you want.” Nino shrugged. “I say kill him- he’ll never fully be folded in.”

 “Agreed.” Alya nodded. Marinette hummed.

 “Any word on the Batman?” she asked. Both shook their heads.

 “No- he’s probably already aware we’re in town but nothing yet.” Alya said. “We’re not that subtle. Or well, Chloe isn’t.”

 “Babe, we like her like this.”

 “I’m just saying,” teased Alya.

 “The magic will hide us. Even if he sees us face to face he’ll never know who we are.” Marinette said. “I just want to make sure we’re ready for him.”

 “Is anyone ready for a furry fighting them?” Nino asked.

 “Babe we’re all kind of furries,” Alya told him. He opened his mouth but then shut it.

 “Fair point.”

-0-

“The Miraculous Team?” Bruce asked Dick as the younger vigilante pulled up some videos Barbara had gathered.

 “Yeah,” Dick said, feeling pained. The events in Paris when he’d been a teenager had been brushed off as a hoax until Hawkmoth was arrested and the entire world learned oh no it wasn’t. Wonder Woman had been furious. Even more so when she learned that somehow the entire team of heroes had gone dark and then come back ruling the criminal underbelly of Paris.

 Apparently, it was rare but sometimes… sometimes Kwami and their holders could become corrupted. Wasn’t to far to assume Hawkmoth had done one finale push against them. 

 Kids his own age… forced into whatever had happened to them.

 “Carapace or Turtle as he calls himself now has been sighted around the docks along with Rena Rouge or Fox as she calls herself.” Pictures of the former heroes appeared on the screen. Both were darker versions of their hero costumes before, more black and jagged edges in their costumes. Both had completely black eyes behind their masks. “I think they’re going after the drug trade. Doing what they did in Paris- limiting it to adults and keeping it away from kids.”

 “Part of their hero selves pushing through.” Bruce nodded. “Maybe we can bring them back.”

 “... You’re being oddly helpful about all this.” Dick said.

 “They’re kids. Might be a bit older but they were kids when this happened. Kids need help.” Bruce told Dick who nodded his understanding. They needed help, and they would help them. “Agreste- could he be helping them?”

 “Possibly. If I remember right Wonder Woman managed to speak with them a few times before they went dark,” Dick firmly did not snort at the double meaning to his words. This was serious. “They said that Hawkmoth had planned to use his son in some ritual didn’t they?”

 “A sense of thankfulness then.” Brice frowned. “I dislike the magic prevents any ability to tell who they are- it would be easier to do if we could tell.”

“I think my brain is trying to make connections but like something grabs it and makes it change its mind,” Dick said, making a face. 

 “Diana said that the magic is unbreakable.” Bruce frowned. “No one can break it not even other Miraculous Holders.” 

 “So we have nothing.”

 “Not truly. Agreste and his girlfriend are coming to the Gala this week.” Bruce told Dick who slowly nodded.

 “Bugs?”

 “Bugs.”

-0-

 Marinette hummed, studying her dress for the gala. It was a classic off the shoulder dress, black lace covering a portion of it. Her lips were classic movie star red and her hair was up, silver earrings hanging from her ears.

 “Damn,” Chloé said as she wandered into the room. “You look delicious.”

 “I try.” She smiled and studied her face a bit more. “Should I do smoky eyeshadow?”

 “I think just a dab? You’re going for innocent child look- smoky might make you look more animalistic.” Chloé said thoughtfully.

 “Point. Adrien managed to weasel his way out of his classic tux with that idea. He’s wearing something a bit more relaxed.” Marinette sighed. “It makes sense though. He’s acting more cat-like lately. I think we’ll have to have a public issue tonight so he can retire from the public for a little while.”

 “I believe Lex Luthor is attending- get him to do something,” Chloé suggested.

 “... you’re still salty about his comment about your dress aren’t you?”

 “Hush,” Chloé said with a sniff. Marinette laughed at her friend before leaving the room to the living room of her floor, finding Adrien only wearing his dress pants and hissing at the fact Luka was trying to get his shirt on.

 “Adrien we need to go soon!” Marinette said, giving him a look. That made him sigh and relent enough to wear the shirt. Luka and Kagami were invited to and were dressed in their suits. Kagami wearing a long coat that had ruffles at the bottom to act as a sort of dress even with her slacks. 

 “I’m the driver tonight,” Kim said as he walked in, dressed in slacks and a sweater that made everyone snicker. “Horse is busy with some issue?”

 “Some guy keeps trying to take over.” Alya agreed. 

 “Yeah. No positive ID- we’re working on that.” Nino said. 

 “Some of the peons have turned traitor. I’m having fun with them later,” Chloé grinned, showing all her teeth. Alya and Nino flashed her adoring smiles. 

 “Have Horse keep us in the loop. Use the Kwami to contact us,” Marinette ordered. She checked her make-up one more time and then it was time to go. They ran over their covers a few times while walking. 

 Adrien the nervous and shy boy after what happened with his father. Marinette his strong girlfriend also a bit nervous. Kagami would act as their bodyguard of sorts, portraying a strong friend trying to protect them. Luka the peacemaker. 

 They did similar things before. It would be hard to play everyone like a bunch of fiddles now.

 Driving to the gala, they all relaxed and chatted after the confirming of the gala. Both Kagami and Luka wanted to find company for the night- though agreed to only do so if Adrien could stay long enough. 

 “Maybe Dick Grayson?” Mused Luka. “He’s got a fine ass.”

 “Bet I can get him first.” Kagami grinned and Luka grinned back. Marinette and Adrien grinned themselves before sighing. 

 “Damn it- it wouldn’t fit our cover.”

 “Poor both of you,” Kagami said in amusement. They made faces at her and the car laughed as they pulled up to the fancy hotel the gala was being held in. Putting their masks on, they left the car with them in place.

 Showtime.

-0-

 “I hate this place.” Muttered Marinette to Adrien who was pretending to be somewhat cowering behind her. Or well not pretending. His cat side was close to the front and it was hard for him to act human enough to pass muster. 

 “Same. Can we please be done with this soon?” Adrien asked Marinette in a low voice, a soft growl to it that made her frown.

 He was really close.

 “Tikki, try and get Luthor to say something?” She said to the Kwami. A bit of creation magic to mess with his head would work. She felt a nudge from the shawl she had wrapped around her shoulders, where Tikki was hiding. She smirked as it vanished and smiled wildly when Brucie Wayne walked up.

 “Adrien! Marinette! How are you enjoying the party?” He grinned and acted like he was drinking but Marinette noticed it really didn’t move- the level in it that was.

“It’s fine. A lot more people then we’re used to but our friends are keeping the worst away.” Marinette smiled at Bruce while Adrien gave a short nod.

 “Oh yeah- Dick and Timmy are talking to them…” Brucie pointed out the group chatting and Marinette wanted to hold back her laugh. Dick was looking a bit unsettled given he was under the gaze of Kagami and Luka who tended to really double down when they wanted someone. Tim looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh, drinking some soda. “It seems they may be…”

 “Flustering your son? They do that.” Marinette giggled before she frowned. “... hopefully, they told him about their bet though I know they probably did.”

 “Bet?”

 “Oh, they bet on who could convince him to join them for the night. They tend to tell their targets this- if the target gets angry they back off. If they don’t mind they keep going,” Adrien explained. “They don’t like not letting people know about the bets- they say it’s to… gross not to.”

 “I’m surprised the son of Hawkmoth would think so.” A slimy voice said from behind and Adrien flinched while Marinette bristled. Lex Luthor was watching them with hard eyes, that to an unknowing observer wouldn’t have a slight shine to them. “I mean didn’t your father lie and use people all the time?” Adrien flinched again and Marinette bared her teeth.

 “And haven’t you been almost convicted of super-villainy a dozen times? Money talks I suppose- at least Paris was smart enough not to let it talk when it came to Gabriel.” Snarled Marinette at the man. He blinked and the shine was slowly vanishing. 

 They’d just needed to prompt him to speak.

 “Adrien?” Marinette offered a hand and he took it. “C’mon. Like and Kagami can stay if they wish, we’re not when people like him are here. So sorry Bruce.”

 “It’s alright,” Bruce told them sounding a bit off but they ignored it.

 The magic would prevent him from figuring things out.

 Kagami joined them as they left, pouting a little. 

 “Strike out?” Asked Adrien, sounding nervous but amused.

 “Incompatible interests.” Kagami pouted more while both Marinette and Adrien blinked.

 “... he’s a top?! With an ass like that?” Marinette asked in shock.

 “Apparently.” Kagami sighed. “Luka doesn’t mind though so he’s having a go of it.”

 “Good for him.” Marinette chuckled as they waited for their limo. Getting in, they stopped at seeing the serious face Kim had. “News?”

 “Some ma’am,” Kim said. He held up a hand and then Xuppu slipped into the back, moving around and pulling small devices off them. Bugs. The monkey grins and uses his powers to swap the frequency.

 Now they can hear the people who placed them when they’re activated.

 “We have issues on the docks,” Kim said straight forward while Marinette rolled her eyes. Of course, there were bugs- Batman probably had some idea Adrien could be helping the team. 

 The magic helped but that was a bit too obvious if one thought about it to block fully.

 “Oh?” Marinette asked while Adrien growled in his throat, and Kagami grinned.

 “Our annoyance just killed three of our men.” They all frowned at that. “We think we know a base near the docks.”

 “Let’s go. Know a name yet?”

 “Red Hood apparently.”

 “He’s done for.”

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[fabien-euskadi]

12, 14, 18, 25, 39, 61, 99 😊

12. Any hidden talents? Talent is completely overrated. Hard work and the ability to learn and improve are a good substitute for talent. Being so, that means that I may have tons of unknown talents that I have never unlocked. But that doesn't mean I won't do it. I have talent - the talent of considering talent something lazy people like to overestimate (because learning and improving requires intelligence and hard work and those are the real talents one can have).

14. Socks or bare feet around the house? Usually, I am bare feet - but only when the temperatures allow me to do it. But, where I live currently, temperatures are mild to hot almost all year.

18. Do you sing in the shower? No. The sound of the water is my music during the shower.

25. Favorite memory? Currently, I feel like deleting all my memories and erase the pain that burns me from inside. Without memories, I would start my life again, like a clean sheet of paper, where pain never wrote any word. So, my favourite memory has to be one that never happened - hopefully, it will be a (good) memory of something that will happen in the future... and yes, reading my words, you can notice how wounded I am.

39. Favorite season? I struggle with a seasonal depression that only attacks during Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. Being so, my favourite season is any season other than the ones I've mentioned.

61. Favorite thing about yourself? Some people managed to hurt me so deeply that I no longer have faith in myself. Sometimes, I wake up and feel I am the worst and ugliest person in the World. So, the favourite thing about myself... I don't know, you tell me. Do I have something that is worth it? If I have such thing, that will be my favourite thing about myself... other than the fact that I underestimate/do not believe in raw talent.

99. What do you hope never changes? You. No matter who you are. Stay true to yourself, please. You have no idea how precious that is. I have seen people change and become all that their previous selves would despise and you have no idea how sad that is. We can improve, but the root of our soul must remain intact.

Thank you, anon - and I’m sorry if my words have a slightly dark tone today.