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that-ari-blogger · 8 months

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Are We the Baddies?

I have stated before that She-Ra thrives on realism and morality, and stand by this view. But in terms of morality, apart from the first two episodes and Catra's entire deal, this hasn't been explored explicitly. The story has heavily implied some moral complexity, but not developed the princess alliance in any depth.

Ties That Bind changes this, and the way it does that is fascinating.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Before I begin, I feel the need to get on my soap box and explain something: Morally complex does not mean evil. This is a lesson that a fair few TTRPG players need to learn, as well as the people writing The Boys. You can have nuanced morality and still be a good guy, or a bad guy, or something in between.

The overarching plot of this episode is essentially a bottle episode, characters get trapped together and have to work out their differences. Usually in live action media, this is the episode for with the crew realised they had no budget left over, so they use actors that are on hand and the set they last filmed in to make something interesting.

I say this, but these episodes have a habit of being some of my favourites in the series. Heaven Sent and Blink for example are often praised as the best Doctor Who has to offer, and they follow this rule, and Wild Blue Yonder is my favourite of the 60th anniversary specials despite the set being the Tardis, a greenscreen and two treadmills and some corridors.

Characters being trapped in one place is also the foundation of a fair amount of horror and detective fiction, and its the premise of my favourite play ever written: Waiting For Godot, by Samuel Becket.

However, you may have noticed that She-Ra and the Princesses Of Power is not, in fact, live action. If you haven't noticed, I'm not sure what to tell you at this point. So why does it have a bottle episode? What are the benefits of this style?

The answer is complicated, but it mostly pertains to character drama. Characters stuck in a room together with a mutual need to get out of that situation are forced to work together. Even enemies will work together if they have a common goal. Star Wars: The Clone Wars did this in Dooku Captured and The Gungan General.

But here's the thing, Ties That Bind subverts this in one simple way, the two parties in this story have opposing goals. If they get to Brightmoon, Catra will be imprisoned. So she works to stall the journey. The story isn't three people who don't want to be in a situation, it's two people who are trapped with a third.

Catra is a gremlin in this episode. She leans fully into the idea of power that Shadow Weaver taught her, manipulation, and it gets her pretty far. Although there are a few cracks, my favourite of which being how easily Bow pushes her buttons in return, and he's doing it accidentally.

"Come on. I bet even the Horde has friends. What about Adora? You two grew up together, right? What was she like as a kid?"

Bow's love of friendship is scoffed at. Catra doesn't have friends, so she thinks she is immune to this line of question. But then Bow brings up Adora, and touches a nerve, so he keeps pushing until Catra responds with a snarl. She's trying to keep up a bulletproof exterior, but that armour still has a weakness, that being Adora.

Catra also gets outmaneuvered by Glimmer, who has learned from previous adventures enough for an escape plan. So, her manipulation skills aren't as good as she thinks they are.

Bow isn't a particularly morally gray character; I don't think that is a hot take. He's the heart of the group, and usually holds everyone else to account. That isn't to say he is morally uncomplicated; the nuance of Bow's character gets shown when he interacts with complicated problems, like the guilt of having left Entrapta behind, and the question of what to do with Catra.

"We took a hostage! We're supposed to be the good guys."

And so, a question is raised, in times of war, do your ethics change? Is this a good thing or not? Just, please don't argue about it in the replies.

Bow's ethics don't change, he is kind and empathetic, and will remain these things, even towards a prisoner, and like Shadow Weaver before her, Catra uses this as a weapon.

Glimmer, on the other hand, is much more complex, and as perfectly moral strategies begin to fail, she is the one who is more likely to actually step into the more dubious territory. This gets displayed multiple times in the episode. For example, when falling, Glimmer plays a game of chicken with Bow's life, and I'm not actually sure what her goal is with it. Maybe she's just trying to scare Catra.

But there's also the scene towards the end when Catra calls Glimmer's bluff again. But this time, Bow isn't directly in the way, so she very nearly does outright kill Catra. Once again, however, it is Bow that keeps her sane.

"We can't take that chance, we're not them."

That's all it takes. All Glimmer needs to hear is that she has becoming her enemy. Bow's line draws attention to what he perceives as the difference between the Horde and the Princesses. The Horde gambles with people's lives, the Princess Alliance doesn't, in his eyes. But throughout this episode, Glimmer has done just that multiple times.

Glimmer's complexity comes from her strength of will. She is the person who will take that extra step when everyone else stops. She has the loosest moral code, and despite still being a good guy, she can react to situations in a completely different manner to others on her side.

The reveal of Entrapta's loyalty also brings up something interesting. People in this story can have goals beyond "good" and "bad", most of them do, in fact. Entrapta's switch from Team Princess to Team Horde shakes Glimmer and Bow's preconceived notions about binary morality. The best way of explaining that is actually this:

"You're on the side of the Horde?"

"I'm on the side of science!"

Don't get me wrong, the Horde is evil as an organisation, and people who are a part of it get up to some pretty heinous acts, this episode just complicates that. It gives a bit of wiggle room within the two sides of this war. But it makes something abundantly clear with Entrapta:

"At least we know for sure that Entrapta's alive, and working for the Horde, making weapons to wipe us out."

Being morally grey does not obfuscate the actions taken. Entrapta isn't villainous, but her actions do further a destructive end, and she is very clearly accountable for that. Being neutral is possible, but Entrapta is very much not neutral, she has chosen a side, and is aware of the consequences of that. It's a stretch to say Entrapta is evil, but she isn't good either, and she is complicit in the Horde's destruction.

Final Thoughts

This episode is ok. I'm not overly impressed by it, but there is some neat storytelling on display, and the animation is cool. Adora's storyline does raise a few more questions about the first ones, most notably: Why did Mara break the watchtower? There's more to this story and Light Hope isn't telling Adora what that is.

Next week, I'll be looking at Signals, so stick around if that interests you.

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x MINDHUNTER AU

Spencer Reid x Margaret Carr (OC)

Part 1: Ed Kemper.

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: graphic details of a real rape and murder case, like every trigger in the book, applies to this fic so read with caution (if you watch either show you're used to it, however), it's all real and did actually happen and I don't support any of it. strangers to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr's daughter, her bio father is Jason Gideon

word count: 3.9K

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun teaching.

He started with guest speaking, moving to special seminars a few times a year. But he wanted something more, settling for a 7-week criminal justice elective of his choosing.

Intro to Criminal Minds: why they did it. Giving Spencer an excuse to share the most intimate facts about serial offenders in a setting where no one could tell him to shut up.

14 students total signed up for the two-hour Seminar, taking place every Thursday at 11 am from September until Halloween. Over the 7 weeks, he would explain the fascinating insights of the most successful killers in the United States. Only asking that his students write about a prolific crime they find interesting by the end of term, for their full grade.

All he wanted was to read about obscure killers from around the world, from the perspective of aspiring profilers.

The first Thursday, he came prepared with his coffee a half hour before the class. He wanted to write the main points on the whiteboard in advance, nice and neatly.

To his surprise, a student was already there waiting for him. "Oh, hello,” he smiled softly.

She was sitting with a book in her hands, she pushed her glasses up her nose to look at him as he walked in. She was older than his typical student, around 35. Probably finishing up a degree or adding something to what she already had.

"Hi," she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m early, I was visiting my mom at Quantico earlier.” She explained. "I'm not a teacher's pet or anything. Promise, I’m not even a student.”

It made him laugh slightly, correcting him like she read his mind. "It's okay, I'm Doctor Reid," he introduced himself softly.

“Margaret Carr, Peggy is also fine.”

"Pleasure to meet you," he said quickly before focusing his attention on the whiteboard.

He could feel her eyes on him the whole time he wrote, not wanting to turn around and catch her. "That's so interesting," he heard her mumble under her breath.

"Hmm?" He turned around.

"It's just that, everyday occurrences that never phase the regular person somehow cause psychopaths to kill," she read the board back to him.

"I was reading a study a while back about how psycho killers medulla oblongata is approximately 19% smaller than the average human’s. Based on the way they're nurtured as children affects if they grow up to kill. The ones that don't often end up in law enforcement and other positions of power where their psychopathic tendencies can come to play."

He was taken aback for a moment. He had never experienced a student who was like him before. Someone who just pulled facts into conversations like it was nothing.

"I read that as well," he smiled. "It is fascinating. The smallest amount of bullying and abuse from a mother or disappearance of a father figure can set them off."

"Or, on the other hand, there are people like Ted Bundy," she added. "He was well-loved and taken care of, but it went to his head. His god complex and affinity for lying led him to be incredibly charismatic and enabled his killing."

"You're very educated on this already; are you just interested in hearing me speak today?" He asked, not wanting her to leave, finding it interesting that she was there.

"Oh," she blushed. "I was going to talk to you more about it after the seminar actually."

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” he felt a little giddy at the prospect.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Seriously though, I'm a big fan of your teaching style, I saw a few of your classes when my dad was teaching at the academy in 2005. It's a lot easier to remember facts if the lecturer genuinely loves what they're talking about."

"You're going to like this Seminar then. It’s basically just a way for me to get paid while unloading all the random facts I have,” he warned her with a smile.

"I know." She smiled back at him.

The rest of his students filed in slowly. By 11 am, 14 faces were staring back at him.

"Hello," he waved awkwardly. "I'm dr. Spencer Reid. For the last 12 years, I've worked with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Catching serial offenders across the country."

He took a deep breath, letting the nerves find their way out of him. "I've been asked time and time again who my favourite serial killer is, which is a peculiar way to phrase the question. It feels morally wrong to have a favourite in the way people do with baseball players.

"I am, however, fascinated with several serial offenders' reasoning and explanation for why they did what they did. Every single killer is different, but it all comes back to 1 thing. Do you know what that is?"

They all shook their heads. “What is your relationship with your parents like?" He asked.

Everyone in the room reacted; some students sighed, some rolled their eyes as they recalled their parents and childhoods to memory.

"When a person decides to kill, it's often never in the moment. It's in childhood. The majority of serial offender's stories start the same; their mother didn't love them, their father left. Someone at home abused them or put them down repeatedly."

"Thus, causing a hatred so primal to bubble. No matter how hard they try and fight it, the bubble always bursts. They go from fantasizing to killing in retaliation for their abuse, taking the anger out in stages."

He referred to the board. "Every killer has a stressor and a trigger—something that causes the urge to bubble and the event that causes the bubble to rupture.”

"Edmund Kemper is a fascinating example of this. He grew up with a family for the first few years of his life before his father fully abandoned them. His mother handled the situation by turning her anger onto her son; it was his fault his father left, he looked just like him, Ed was just another useless man who would never amount to anything," he emphasized the words. Hoping the class sees the effects words have on children.

"He started by cutting up dolls, stealing his sister's barbies and cutting their heads off. In his mind, he was getting out his anger and hatred for how his mother saw him. She hated men, causing him to mature with a warped idea of what women are truly like."

"His attraction to killing worsened his mother's hatred; she could tell something was wrong with him, that he didn't react to everyday situations the way he should. By the time he was ten, she was locking him in the basement for days on end, telling him he was a monster and her biggest regret."

"The change in her rage amplified his own. He hated hearing her speak. He hated the way she walked around, thinking she was better than him. That just because she was a mother and a working woman, she deserved respect and submissive’s. All he could see was a woman with a big head who needed to be humbled. This is the moment when the psychotic side of his brain blended his hatred of his mother with how good it felt to kill."

"Is that why he, you know?" Peggy cut in, running her finger along her neck as she pretended to cut her head off.

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding. "His signature, as it's called, was decapitation. But more specifically necrophiling the severed head of his victims."

The whole class let out a disgusted noise, Peggy and Spencer making eye contact while they shrugged, it wasn't news to them.

"At age ten, he moved from barbies to cats and dogs, never leaving them around for his mother to see. While he hated her, he was also absolutely terrified of her. Breading a special type of killer. When you think of school shooters or preferential predators, what do they have in common?" He asked.

He pointed at a student in the back. "They have a specific type of victim they’re after?"

"Exactly. Most serial offenders want to go after the cause of their pain or attraction. However, Ed wasn't able to kill the source of his rage for a long time. His mother mentally abused him so intensely that he believed she was in control of him and that her opinion of him mattered. He saw her as his God, he loved her, but he also knew that he disappointed her.

"He ran away soon after to find his father. Travelling to California, only to be told he was unwanted there as well. It wasn't just his mother that his father was escaping; it was the fundamental aspect of family that he didn't want. Ed defiantly didn't want to go back to his mother after that, so he moved in with his paternal grandparents."

He kept catching the looks on Peggy's face. She knew the story already, waiting patiently to hear the words he chose to make the horrific acts seem a little more conversational.

"His grandmother was exactly like his mother. If I had to guess, his father most likely had a distaste for his own mother and thus divorced Ed's mom. Only he never grew up to be a killer, just an absent father—his absence doing to Ed what never happened to him."

"Ed killed his grandparents when he was 15. Telling the police and his therapists that they had beaten him constantly, they refused to feed him and called him names. He said he snapped from the trauma; it was self-defence."

Peggy laughed to herself, making him smile softly. "Sending him to a mental hospital instead of a juvenile facility was the worst thing they could've done for him," Spencer added.

"Why?" A student asked.

"Ed is a psychopath." He reminded them. "He doesn't feel empathy the way we do. You can admit that you feel bad for him, yes? If you understand why he killed people, it doesn't make you sick, like him, it makes you human. You see a hurt person hurting others; Ed Kemper sees himself as a new sort of God, choosing who dies, how and when."

"He was brilliant, having the exact IQ as I do," just a humblebrag, "the staff trusted him. He looked like an innocent boy, smart enough to take matters into his own hands for the betterment of his life. They gave him computer privileges, they let him work the front desk and file patient information. Giving him all the resources to learn about who he was inside and how to get away with it perfectly."

"Damn," another kid added. "When did he get out?"

"At 21.” He answered the student quickly. “Ed was interviewed by my mentor Jason Gideon, in the 70s. Where he explained that being locked up during his sexual prime, as well as the access to information, is what truly set him off more than his mother.

"He moved back in with her and his sister when he came out of the institution, immediately returning to the constant ridicule. He went from being told all the time that he was a smart and charming young man, capable of rehabilitation to a useless, no-good son, who would have been better off collecting in a condom or running down her leg."

The whole class laughed, shocked at his repetition of Ed's mother's words.

"He got his licence when he was released. And remember, this was prime time for hitchhiking in California; everyone and their mother walked the roads with a thumb in the air. It was the birth of free love and recreational marijuana usage. It was also the best hunting ground for a learning serial killer."

"He was able to pick women up, but like I said, missing his sexual prime while in an institution made him almost impotent. He didn't know how to speak to women; he had to create a fantasy in his mind every time, one that involved killing, before he could look at a woman."

"How did he get them in his car then?" A voice asked from the back.

"He was 6'9, 300lbs; he looked like a big teddy bear. And his mother was the local college administrative assistant, so the whole town knew him anyway. If Ed offered to give them a ride, it wouldn't be that bad, right?" Peggy turned around to face the class as she explained for Spencer, who just shook his head.

"He only wanted to rape the victims, originally," Spencer added. "But he couldn't. There was no release of the tension. The bubble that had been growing inside him was at its breaking point; he needed to just do it. Get it over with and move on."

"He killed 6 women in succession after that. Gaining the name "The Co-Ed Killer," well before anyone even suspected Ed Kemper," Spencer took a sip of coffee, feeling his throat start to dry as they reached the insane part.

"He was overly friendly with the cops; he wanted to get his record expunged and join the force.” Spencer finally continued. “Being told, "don't worry about your record, worry about your weight.""

"Most killers enjoy wearing a uniform for the power and talking to the police about their cases, in the hopes of gauging how smart they really are—taking pride in the fact that they are getting away with it for so long."

"He watched all the cop shows, and he read all the books. He knew that in order to get away with it, he had to do it where no one could trace it back to him. He knew he had to keep his cool and avoid looking obsessed with the case, but just curious enough to gain insight into how they thought he was doing it. It went on for years, and they had absolutely zero leads, finding headless bodies every few months before they finally received a call." He left them hanging, walking over to his sheet of paper and pretending to read it while they anticipated the catch.

"Ed always knew that he wanted to kill his mother. He just never knew when,” Spencer teased the story along. Noticing as the students fidgeted in their seats as they wondered what happened next.

“In his interview with Gideon, Ed said that he knew she would die 7 days before he killed her. He walked into her room that night to find her reading, with the audacity to ask if he wanted to come in and chat all night. Teasing him for the way he rambled to her. It was the last time she ever did that."

"It's hard to imagine his signature with the fact his second last victim was his mother," Peggy added, cringing at the thought.

"Wait," another student interjected. "Who was his last kill then if he only really wanted to kill her?"

"Remember how I said he lacked empathy?" Spencer asked. "He loved his mother in the same way a prisoner can end up loving their captor."

Peggy nods at the comparison, looking like she's never thought of it that way before, then smiling at him.

"You grow a bond through the trauma and when the only thing you've ever known is violence and hate, you don't know what to do when that's gone, it's hard to cope."

"He said he killed his mother so that she never had to know what he did. She'd never have to sit at his court hearings or be able to tell the media that she always knew he was a killer."

"His last kill was his mother's best friend," He finally answered the question.

"He didn't want his mother to be even more disappointed in him, but he also didn't want his mother's best friend to find her like that and be upset. So the obvious answer to him was to kill her too."

"What the fuck?" He heard a couple of kids say under their breath.

"Yeah," he agreed with an almost chuckle. "This is what I mean by their answers are fascinating. It makes so much sense to them; clearly, if I kill my mother, her friend will be upset, so the best answer would be to put her out of her misery as well. He sees them as objects, like a matching set. One would lose value without the other."

Everyone was silent then. The students took in all the information they had just received, staring up at him with a look of disgust mixed with wonder.

"Any questions?"

Peggy raised her hand for a change; he pointed towards her in approval. "You missed the part where he specifically took the heads from the three women before his mother and brought them back home with him. He buried them in the yard outside her bedroom window, making sure they were always looking up to her."

Spencer was amazed that she knew the details. "Yes, I guess I did."

"I always found that part particularly interesting in this case," Peggy added. "Her opinion mattered so much to him. He knew how much she loved her co-ed's and how they looked up to her so much. They'd be exactly like her. He felt trapped in a town of women who were exactly like his nightmare, and his response was to make them physically look up to her for the rest of her life."

"Exactly." Spencer smiled. "understanding how he sees the situation and how the events played out in his mind is the key in figuring out who he is."

"If you were on the case in '72 when the first victims were discovered, how would you have handled it, Dr. Reid?" A male student in the back asked in the silence between answers, taking his shot before Peggy and Spencer went any further in their discussion.

“That's a hard thing to answer, connecting evidence back then was a lot harder than it is today, if it wasn’t for men like Ed there wouldn’t really be this many answers,” Spencer said honestly.

Another student put her hand up, “what’s the worst thing he did in your opinion?”

That racked his brain, there was a handful of horrific things he did that were particularly horrific, “probably his mother's entire murder.”

“What did he do?”

Before Spencer could answer he saw Peggy open her mouth and start explaining. “He not only cut off her head and fucked her neck, but he also took her vocal cords out and shoved them down the garbage disposal. And before he called the cops, he cleaned everything up and made her look presentable because he said his mother wouldn’t want guests to see the mess.”

The class all cringed, sinking into their seats with disgust. But that didn’t stop Peggy from explaining it all further.

“He used to go to a bar all the cops went to and he would talk about his case. They would always one-up themselves and say they were close which gave him this false idea that they were on his tail and they’d find his mother soon. But when they didn’t, he called it in from a payphone and said he’d come over and explain it all. And boy did he ever, the cops said he wouldn’t shut up. And then when they put him in the cop car finally, a woman walked past him and he threw up.”

Spencer watched her with awe, the way she could call information to memory like that was beautiful. He listened to her like he’s never heard a fact before, she was so intriguing.

“Thank you for the detail,” he teased her lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up that the really gross parts get swept aside.”

The class smiled at him, he had gained their trust and attention within only 1 hour of class.

“I know you said you don’t have a favourite,” another student asked from the back. “I agree it’s weird, but who is the one you gravitate towards the most?”

“I’ve met hundreds of serial killers, I’ve read about thousands,” he explained. “I think Ed Kemper is the one I gravitate the most around because he was so willing and open to explaining why he is the way he is. Going as far as to say that the only way they could keep women safe is to give him a lobotomy. He didn’t believe there was any correcting to be done, only removal of the evil within him.”

He heard slight mumbles as everyone took in what he said. “Does anyone here have a killer or a case that interested them in learning more, or just introduced you to the chase of justice?”

Peggy put her hand up, “I personally think BTK is the scariest, most tactical, and just downright evil man to ever exist. He scares me to no end but he’s so interesting to learn about.”

“Ahh,” Spencer agreed. “Too bad you won't be here for week 3. But with that I think I’ll end the class, next week we’ll be discussing the difference between Ted Bundy and Richard Speck.” He nodded lightly, watching the majority of them close their books and had on out.

“I really enjoyed the class,” she said softly. Holding her purse in one hand, a collection of files in the other.

Spencer turned to look at her then, smiling right back. “It was a pleasure to teach alongside you.”

“What do you mean?” She teased, “it’s not like my mom and dad were the ones who did all the interviews."

“Carr,” he repeats her last name. The gears turning in his mind as he brings all the information forth.

“Your mother is Wendy Carr, she was recruited after the BTK case with Bill Tench, she’s who was behind that study you mentioned.”

“I know,” she smiled.

“Who’s your father?”

“Guess,” she looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“You’re kidding? Gideon never said he had a daughter let alone a,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.

She smiled at the implication of his words, “but he’s told me all about you Dr. Reid, that’s why I'm here.”

“You need help with a case and I’m the only agent in Virginia currently,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly. Knowing it was too good to be true that she would have any interest in him in the slightest.

“No actually, I have a case I’ve been working on privately and I need some help. I asked my dad but he said you’d be able to help me the best. I agree,” she corrected him softly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a big fan of yours. When I would sit in and watch his lectures, before he knew I was his kid, you would always step in at the best parts, adding the smallest details to the story that the average person would forget. It’s magnificent.”

He laughed slightly, tugging at his collar as she complimented him. “Thank you, you’re quite magnificent as well,” he replied with a blush and a smile

She didn’t look like Gideon, probably because she smiled so much. Like sunshine on legs, she beamed, all but blinding him with her smile as she stared at him, “do you want to get lunch and go over this case with me?”

“I’d love to.”

taglist: (message me if you want to be added or removed)

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #intro to cm #mindhunter #wendy carr #peggy carr

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theholycovenantrpg · 4 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, MIMZ! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF RAPHAEL.

Admin Rosey: I never really thought that Raphael’s application would be so f u n to read. Macabre? Absolutely. Impassioned? Of course. But hilarious to the point where I was giggling? Definitely unexpected but that is what made this so enjoyable and it is ultimately why this application received a r e s o u n d i n g yes from each of us. There was a perspective that I always envisioned for Raphael but was never able to articulate it myself until you laid it out, word by word, with this application, Mimz. Raphael is such a multi-faceted and character that holds so much potential, and the way that you wove it into every aspect of the application made this so fun to read. Thank you so much for taking the time to produce such a wonderful application! Your faceclaim change to Kendrick Sampson has been approved. Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias

mimz

Age

Personal Pronouns

she/her

Activity Level

i’ll typically check the dash every day, and i try not to keep replies stewing for longer than a couple of days! that said i can be a little slow, especially around exam seasons.

Timezone

pst

Triggers

REMOVED

How did you find the group?

miss minnie bleubeard’s blog

IN CHARACTER

Character

raphael, with a fc change to kendrick sampson

What drew you to this character?

short answer: divine amorality sexy HAHAHAHA

long answer: there was something i read a little while ago about some of the best surgeons being able to dehumanize their patients to a rather frightening degree. there’s a level of abstraction that you need in order to not let your empathy get in the way of the practice of medicine; ultimately, a body is a body is a body, right? and then there’s the moral quandary of healing - it is a doctor’s duty to heal, but what does that actually mean? to what extent is a doctor’s duty to relieve suffering? to obstinately prolong life? if the body heals but the mind still ails, is a person healed? what i’m getting at, here, is that in some ways the healer is the most dangerous character of all.

when i read raphael’s bio, there was a quote in that article from a surgeon named david cheever that came to mind: “as a result of anaesthetics, the surgeon ‘need not hurry; he need not sympathise; he need not worry; he can calmly dissect, as on a dead body.’” to me, raphael is an explosion and expansion of this concept. raphael is, quite literally, a medical ethicist’s worst nightmare, and to me, that’s absolutely fascinating. without sympathy, what separates a healer from an educated control freak with a god complex? with raphael, we can extend this concept to its furthest extreme. raphael isn’t even human - how could he even begin to sympathize with an experience so foreign to him? why would he worry about something trivial as human suffering when it essentially exists as a theoretical concept to him? divine beings have no reason to play by human rules, and as a creature raised by god’s side raphael was so far removed from the concept of human suffering that it’s sort of a no-brainer that he developed a sick fascination with it, like a child who managed to con their parent into buying a grand theft auto game and is obsessed with running over pedestrians because the stakes never quite feel real. it’s a perspective i’d absolutely love to explore in a group rp setting because the nature of rp means that it’s kind of...completely unsustainable? like as writers we’re shoving these characters together, which means that raphael will have to be exposed to mortals. there’s room for a lot of character development there, and it seems like something extremely interesting to explore.

BUT HERE’S THE THING⁠—and this is where the character gets really fun, in my opinion. i’ve talked a fair bit about god complexes already, but when applied to raphael an interesting question is raised: how much is a complex, and how much of it is actually being divine? what really made me want to get my grubby little hands on the reins of raphael’s story was seeing the disconnect between the way his connections are written from raphael’s perspective versus the other character’s perspective. it’s a fun little hubristic shade that makes him an unreliable narrator and infinitely more interesting than a simple morality thought experiment. i think it’s easy to see raphael as this super cool, all-powerful master manipulator (i think that’s a pretty accurate take on his self-image, in fact), but he’s not the only player in this game. for every pawn he’s trying to move, there is someone else trying to use him in a similar way, and i don’t know that he truly understands the ramifications of that. see, i think it’s easy to reduce raphael to the points i discuss in the previous paragraphs because that’s what he wants you to think of him. but this is a world of gods and superpowers and magical political intrigue and game of thrones doesn’t exist so nobody can tell him that he’s on the path to becoming a cersei lannister (admittedly i haven’t watched got so this reference might not be right but i feel like it’s right so uh. yeah!). maybe i just like to see arrogant men getting knocked down a peg? this might be a projection of that. i dunno. i just know that there are quite a few mind games and mental gymnastics to untangle with raphael and that’s fun. he’s fun.

also. i would like to once again reiterate: divine amorality sexy. it’s not good, to be clear, and i don’t condone it, but i’m just saying.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character?

WHEN THE CITY CRUMBLES AROUND YOU AND YOU HOLD ITS VESTIGES IN YOUR HANDS, WHOM DO YOU BLAME?

i think Raphael’s big character arc revolves around a simple question: how far are you willing to go to achieve what you want?

ostensibly, it’s an easy answer: very far. but when your desire is antithetical to your very purpose, when chasing it puts you at odds with the thing you’ve worked to build, do the goalposts move?

(the correct answer is that raphael did not build caelum. he simply destroyed god.)

let’s say, hypothetically, that raphael gets what he wants. the world is thrown into war and chaos and destruction, yadda yadda, raphael gets his blood and his suffering, great. he’s lived through this before (a couple times, actually), so you think he’d realize by now—eventually, the dust will settle. people will tire of suffering. and where will that leave raphael? how many times will you remake the world to watch it burn? can you ever be fulfilled chasing a temporary high?

(the correct answer is no, but raphael is an immortal being. more importantly, he is a patient one. he will wait a million days for rome to be built, if only to witness the single day in which it will burn.)

i think raphael needs to reckon with these questions. i think he’s lived far too long with his mentality unquestioned and that has made him both insufferable and a major threat to society. this is a long and pretentious way to say that raphael honestly kind of needs a hobby whatever the thc-verse equivalent of therapy is, but i think any sort of positive character development is contingent upon a recontextualization of suffering and chaos and raphael’s masks.

of course, this isn’t to say that introspection will only lead to positive character development. perhaps a raphael who looks deeper into his psyche will come to understand that his desires outweigh his role; perhaps such thoughts will push raphael over the edge of propriety and into something more outwardly despicable. no matter what, though, i think that the direction of raphael’s character development will be largely shaped on how he decides to prioritize his⁠ roles and goals.

FOR WHOM DO THESE HANDS HEAL?

let’s discuss the archangels, shall we? despite it all, raphael genuinely loves his brothers. i would argue, even, that raphael believes that his scheming is in service to the other archangels; he’s not blind to the way complacency has softened the angels. at this point, the only true threat to the angels is themselves—if michael wants to to unlock a state of sanctifying grace, it will happen at the hand of one of his kin.

i spoke earlier about raphael’s goals ultimately being futile. this is largely because they are diametrically opposed to michael and gabriel’s goals, and while raphael knows this intellectually, i don’t think he’s quite thought about what the long-term implications of that conflict entails. he’s so caught up in the conflict between michael and gabriel that he’s neglected to consider how he factors into the dynamic. could he be the common ground that brings michael and gabriel together? could he be the final straw that breaks them apart? he is excited for the fighting, the fallout; but has he stopped to consider what the long-reaching effects of such a rift may be?

raphael is breaking his family apart because he loves them. will that be enough, when he is sent to pick up the pieces? whose side will he fall on, if he is to pick a side at all?

DID PYGMALION FALL IN LOVE WITH THE BEAUTY OF HIS CREATION, OR THE BEAUTY HE CREATED?

i said this in the previous section but i’d like to reiterate it: i think a big reason raphael is Like That is because the stakes have never quite felt real to him. raphael’s a pot stirrer, but he’s not a creature of action. to this, i say give him real stakes. to be honest, i don’t know exactly what that entails, because i could see a number of ways in which tangible pressure manifests itself for raphael. perhaps his meddling with michael and gabriel steps too far, and his brothers perhaps the angels become suspicious of his maneuvering, in which the spider is drawn into his own web of intrigue. maybe we apply positive pressure, where the ails of the world require a healer and raphael is tapped to higher purpose⁠—and higher power. maybe raphael will find himself tempted by the very demons he holds in contempt.

the point is that raphael has largely been a character who acts through others. even now, we see this through his grooming of romilda, with his subtle manipulation of michael and gabriel. i want him to become a more active character, either by his own volition or by his hand being forced.

similarly, i’m extremely interested in seeing how raphael navigates the political elements of this verse. i expect it stings a bit to be the only archangel not given a position of leadership; perhaps he holds lingering resentment toward zadkiel for being given a role raphael had expected to receive. does he subtly undermine zadkiel’s leadership? i want to watch him play up tensions with the vices, to hide a vicious war-hawk perspective under the guise of a concerned healer. i want him to smile in abaddon and samael’s faces and plot their suffering in his mind. i want to see the snake slither in the grass, to return to his original form as a spider spinning a web of intrigue across his court. yes, i want a more active raphael, but i think the political drama is ripe for development, as well.

WHEN I SPIT UP MY SINS AND BEG FOR REPENTANCE, WHAT WILL COME UP?

this one’s a long shot, but i could maybe...see...raphael……..falling. i can guarantee you that the idea has never even crossed raphael’s mind, and that he would literally rather be smited than be cast out of caelum, but i can see it. i think he might be happier, actually; if he fell, he could really lean into the chaos and suffering thing without any compunction.

of course, this is something infinitely easier said than done. were raphael to be cast out of caelum, he would have nowhere to go. infernum would never take him⁠—he’s made far too many enemies among their ranks. he could wander the holy land, but he’s far too proud to bind himself to its existing social systems. (he wouldn’t be able to look gabriel in the eye.)

raphael would have absolutely nothing.

but he would also be free.

that’s right, i think that a horsemen-style liberation arc would be an absolute banger for raphael. again, i don’t think it’s feasible unless a very specific set of circumstances happen, but just imagine a raphael with nothing to lose, free to go absolutely apeshit. his only prerogative is to make sure you have a bad day. he is free to sow whatever chaos, whatever suffering he so wishes across the land. WHEW.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character?

yes, but i don’t see him going down easily.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation

entomological curiosity, in short. consider: why did god leave the apple in the garden of eden? why do humans keep animals in glass cases? why do children burn ants with magnifying glasses?

raphael wants to observe the world. a good healer must understand his patients at a fundamental level, and such truths are only revealed when the subject is broken down to its basest parts. you see, raphael was weaned on temperance and virtue; there is a lush decadence to emotional extremes that he finds most fascinating. they are debased. they are crass. they are wantonly sentimental, in a garishly beautiful way.

but this is not all. he wants to stave off boredom, and these are the tools he has to play with. for all of his machinations, raphael is a simple being. raphael has no grand ambitions, no lofty ideals, and that is what makes him so dangerous. he wants to be amused. he wants to be stimulated. he wants to observe a world in which things happen.

ostensibly, this is not as selfish a motivation as it may seem. as a healer, raphael knows something that many do not: serenity cannot exist in perpetuity. it is impossible for the world to remain unchanged⁠—even if the change is not evident, it is happening. an eternal peace is all but a stagnation of the kingdom; the only thing stagnation breeds is degradation. the angels are weakening because they are not being challenged. michael and the virtues may be doing extensive research to find an alternate explanation, but raphael knows this to be the truth.

of course, the irony underlying the selfless explanation of raphael’s motivations reveals the truth of the matter: it is a farce. perhaps it is a lie that raphael has even convinced himself he believes, but it is farcical nonetheless. raphael claims he wants to invoke change because stagnation is dangerous, but riddle me this⁠—if this is true, why has raphael never changed? centuries upon centuries have passed, and the world has changed around him, but raphael himself has remained largely unchanged. he is the orchestrator of change, not its agent nor its subject, and that is just the way he would like things to stay.

Character Traits

CHARISMATIC - there’s a reason very few have cottoned on to raphael’s true nature, and it’s not (just) his pretty face and magical girl-esque aura. there’s something effortlessly captivating about raphael, a pace to his cadence that has you hanging on to his every word, a lightness to his smile that makes you want to coax it out whenever and however you can. everything about raphael puts people at ease, except for his eyes, which tend to put people on edge if he’s not careful. he’s not gregarious or the outgoing sort of charismatic by any means, but he does manage to exude an overwhelming charisma.

PATIENT - it’s important to remember that before raphael turned on god, he waited for him. raphael performed healings for centuries and never raised a hand against his father in that time. think of all the angels that fell, that rebelled; raphael was not among them. no, raphael played the dutiful son, allowing his resentment to fester and boil deep underneath his skin, but never to surface. for centuries he served loyally, biding his time. remember: lucifer fell. raphael did not. which one killed god? as i mentioned in the plot section, raphael will wait a million days for rome to be built to witness the single day it burns. prolonged suffering is perhaps the most beautiful of all. fortitude goes hand-and-hand with patience.

INTELLIGENT - in a few ways. raphael is well-studied, with extensive knowledge of biology and chemistry and history and politics. raphael is emotionally intelligent; he hides his true nature behind a veneer constructed to meet expectations. he may not be as talented as gabriel in this regard, but it is a skillful construction nonetheless.

MANIPULATIVE - i mean. yeah.

ARROGANT - he thinks he’s smarter than god???????????????? tbf god was a bit of a headass in this universe but we’ve all read enough tragedies to know where this kind of hubris ends up going.

CRUEL - there’s a bit to unpack here. i’d argue that there are two types of cruelty: malicious cruelty and callous cruelty. raphael is certainly capable of both, but i think he embodies the latter. with certain notable exceptions, raphael’s cruelty is rarely personal; it is a thoughtless sort of cruelty, the type inflicted upon beings considered expendable. raphael is selfish and petty and powerful, and these traits coalesce into a casual cruelty.

In-Character Para Sample cw: light gore

Look at how they look at him. God’s good little lambs, lined up all in a row, passive and pliant and patiently awaiting benediction. Patiently waiting for Raphael.

Raphael hates them.

No. This is false. It is difficult for Raphael to muster up stronger feelings toward mortals than a vague sort of amusement, the sort of affinity one might have for a particularly stupid kit when it does something surprisingly clever. In this regard, he understands that he differs from his kin. Gabriel, in particular, has developed a particular fondness for the mortals. Why anyone would wish to strip mortals of their most fascinating behavior⁠—to the point of openly defying their Father⁠—is beyond Raphael. He has given up on trying to reason with his brother on the matter.

The first supplicant is beckoned forward. They pray to the Lord and Raphael touches their forehead with one palm, cups their chin with the other. His fingers splay carelessly around a throat all but bared to him and the ceremony is so mechanical Raphael allows his thoughts to wander⁠.

How easy it would be to tighten his grip. How beautiful it would be, to watch the lamb’s naive adoration flash into fear, to watch fear darken into betrayal and resentment and the most beautiful emotion of all: despair. He can feel the pulse at his fingertips. It would quicken in a stress response, he knows. It would quicken, then it would pound, and then maybe it would stop. It all falls to Raphael’s whim. In this moment, Raphael holds their life in his hands. They have all but laid on his sword for the promise of absolution and when they look up at Raphael with their dumb, trusting eyes he can see the sparkling tracks where tears once fell, down the hollow of a cheek into the pool of a collarbone. He finds himself overcome with the desire to trace the fall with his tongue. “Give me your pain,” he murmurs. Let me taste it. Let me understand.

He takes it. He does not taste it. He does not understand.

He releases the mortal. Those beautiful tear tracks are already fading. “The Lord be with you,” he says, and perhaps he even means it. His Father’s gaze burns into his back, even from a world away. He’d laugh at the irony, were he free to. Is this the weight you so desire? he wants to ask the devotee. No, Raphael knows the truth: God’s love is a shackle. God’s love is a leash and it is holding Raphael back from his fullest potential.

“And also with you,” the lamb responds. Their head is bowed obediently in prayer and they shuffle away, appropriately awed. The next supplicant is beckoned forward.

The light of Raphael’s presence obfuscates the darkness in his eyes.

—

Later, much later, Raphael finds himself studying his hands. He flexes them, balls them into fists, stretches his fingers as far as they will spread.

How easy it would be to tighten his grip.

The hand is at once an individual unit and a summation of individual parts. The hand contains twenty-seven bones and thirty-four muscles connected by over a hundred ligaments and tendons. Wrists connect to metacarpals, which connect to carpals, which taper off into delicate phalanges. Individually, each of these parts are largely useless; were Raphael to take a scalpel and drag it through a tendon, across the joints, the strings would be cut and the puppetry would cease to dance. You would be left with a small pile of carpals and metacarpals and phalanges, loose strings of muscle and tendon. At times, it is difficult to fathom how such mundane component parts are the instruments of extraordinary acts.

Raphael flexes his hand, watches bone shift under skin. If he remembers correctly, mortals have an idiom about knowing your hands, or something along those lines. He will not pretend to be familiar with mortal culture. Did you know that, wings aside, mortals and angels all have the same bone structure?

Of course you did. It is common knowledge that God made all beings in His image, or so the story goes.

This is an easy answer, but one with interesting implications. Let us extrapolate. If mortals and angels are essentially biological mirrors, and each are made in the image of God, does that mean that God will bleed like His creations? Slide a scalpel across God’s knuckles—will His puppets cease to dance?

Raphael could find out. It would take only a single blade, sliced through a single tendon.

Now, Raphael is not so arrogant to believe himself the blade. He would not even consider himself the hand. Such a role requires a particular kind of conviction—

( —and that sort of conviction is made manifest in bitter disillusionment⁠—the sort inflicted upon Michael. How easy it would be to find himself in his brother’s ear, whispering of their Father’s capriciousness and the unnecessary cruelty that resulted for the poor, poor humans— )

( —and that sort of conviction is made manifest in righteous anger⁠—the sort inflicted upon Gabriel. How easy it would be to find himself in his brother’s ear, whispering of their Father’s neglect and the unnecessary cruelty that resulted for the poor, poor humans— )

( —and that sort of conviction is made manifest in a whetted hunger⁠—the sort God gifted to each of His angels. Hunger breeds hunters and heaven is full— )

—that Raphael simply cannot embody. Rage has never been his forte.

Consider, however, that the hand is controlled by nerve impulses. A spark is all the hand needs to transform from a collection of bone to an agent of action. Yes. He clenches his fists. Here are the bones, the veins, the tendons, the muscle. Angels and mortals all share the same bone structure.

Does God?

Extras

pinterest.

raphael has classically beautiful wings. i’m talking TEXTBOOK cherubic angel wings, with the sweeping white feathers and all. raphael kind of hates them, though he takes a great deal of pride in them.

raphael doesn’t have a signature weapon. he’s proficient with blades, yes, and fights with a surgeon’s precision, not the strongest nor the fastest but eerily efficient in his blows. but he is a healer—at the end of the day, his empty hands are all he needs. (his empty hands are what you should fear.)

raphael hates the heretics pro forma but. but. he cannot deny a certain...fondness for them. the heretics exhibited such dedication to a futile cause; they believed their suffering to be something noble. it’s a laughable notion, certainly, but a sentiment so distinctly human it’s almost charming. should they wish to return, to throw themselves on the knife over and over and over, well. raphael shall not complain. he shall smile beatifically, perhaps abate their suffering, even⁠—and watch them do it again.

in a modern au, raphael is a reality tv producer. ok actually he’s probably a surgeon but i think he’d make a very good reality tv producer. alternately, there is a universe out there where raph fixated on like...baking, or k-pop, instead of suffering. those are good timelines, i think. maybe not the k-pop stan timeline.

raphael is the living embodiment of that dwight schrute “we need a new plague” meme.

#accepted #accepted: raphael

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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Eight black women — including Michelle Obama — on Toni Morrison’s life and legacy

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2019/08/09/eight-black-women-including-michelle-obama-toni-morrisons-life-legacy/

Eight black women — including Michelle Obama — on Toni Morrison’s life and legacy

By Michelle Obama, Esi Edugyan, Sherrilyn Ifill, Sarah Ladipo Manyika, Tayari Jones, Jacqueline Woodson, Michele L. Norris and Leah Wright Rigueur | Published August 09 at 1:30 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 11, 2019 11:47 PM ET |

MICHELLE OBAMA

“We belong, she showed us, not just in paperback books but in textbooks, not just in a publishing house but in the White House.”

The summer after my senior year of high school was a slow one for me. I’d had a cyst removed from my wrist, and a heavy white cast cocooned my forearm up to my elbow. There wasn’t a lot I could do. Sidelined on my parents’ couch in the South Side heat, I picked up a paperback copy of “Song of Solomon.” I hadn’t heard of Toni Morrison yet, so I can’t say I did it because I was curious about her writing, or that I was being purposeful about supporting African American women authors. The truth was, I didn’t know anything about the book. It was simply there in the living room, just like me.

I like to think that this is the way that she would have liked it; that she’d have wanted the tidiness of her prose, the interiority of her characters, the complexity of the stories to stand on their own, away from her growing legend. Toni Morrison understood, you see, that people gravitate to what’s real. And in her writing, the truth was always right there on the dog-eared pages.

For me and for so many others, Toni Morrison was that first crack in the levee — the one who freed the truth about black lives, sending it rushing out into the world. She showed us the beauty in being our full selves, the necessity of embracing our complications and contradictions. And she didn’t just give us permission to share our own stories; she underlined our responsibility to do so. She showed how incomplete the world’s narrative was without ours in it.

It’s a thread running through “Beloved” and “Sula” and “The Bluest Eye” and all of her work — that black stories, particularly the stories of black women and black girls, are worthy of examination and celebration. Again and again, she was unapologetic about that fact, deliberate in proving that our stories are rich and deep and largely unexplored. We belong, she showed us, not just in paperback books but in textbooks, not just in a publishing house but in the White House. And on their own, our stories are more than enough to inspire a Nobel laureate.

In the years since that slow, scorching summer on the couch, I’ve read “Song of Solomon” twice more, cover to cover — once as a young professional and once more as a young mother. Each reading has revealed new lessons that accompany my own changing perspective as I’ve grown and evolved. Each reading also serves as a reminder of the patience and rigor she demands. I often find myself reading and rereading passages multiple times in order to uncover her secrets. But that work is part of what makes the act of reading her so special; that at times, you have to earn her wisdom.

I’m sure that someday I’ll pick up “Song of Solomon” again and see what new lessons it has for me at this new stage in my life, now that my own girls are off writing their own songs. That’s perhaps the best thing about Toni Morrison. It will never really matter how many years have passed since her novels were first published. The words may have been new when she wrote them, but the truth behind them wasn’t. She was simply uncovering the beauty that was always there.

Michelle Obama is the former first lady of the United States and the author of “Becoming.”

ESI EDUGYAN

“In the unexpected slide of her sentences, she was our foremost poet, our foremost truth-teller.”

In 1998, when I was an undergraduate at the University of Victoria, my father sent me a parcel. I’d gone there to study writing, and I was still reeling at the impossibility of it — still feeling myself an imposter, astonished that someone like me could even begin to think of herself as a writer. A parcel was an unusual gesture on my father’s part — we weren’t particularly close, and the weight of the package suggested more than a short letter. I opened the slender manila envelope to discover a copy of Time magazine bearing Toni Morrison’s portrait, a sticky note hastily pasted over it. My father’s scrawl read, simply, “Thought you might enjoy this.”

I could not have expected how much this simple, thoughtful gesture would change my whole sense of myself.

I had, of course, heard of Toni Morrison; when she won the Nobel Prize in 1993, I remember attempting to read “Tar Baby,” but I was young and unpracticed, 15 years old, and it was not a book for my immature sensibility. My father’s parcel sent me back to her work as a young woman — and, more important, as a budding writer — and what I found there shook me.

It seems we all have these stories — when we first discovered her work, how profoundly it marked us. For a generation of black female writers in particular, she was crucial, the one without whom nothing would have been possible. Her work spoke of our lives and directly to us, and it was also universal. She gave us the permission of visibility; she said, as much with the fact of her body as with her stirring prose, that lives that had rarely been acknowledged in serious literature without ridicule or censure not only mattered but also were a central part of the Western story. She looked directly and sometimes mercilessly at the choices of the vulnerable and at the powerful who profited off that vulnerability, and she allowed the inevitability of their tragedies to play out in ways that sometimes left us outraged or wounded, but never indifferent.

She wrote of black life in all its complexity, quarreling with the notion that the “black experience” was a single monolithic thing. She spoke as honestly about the marginalization of black people within the larger fabric of American society as about the ways black communities can fracture and sometimes turn against themselves. No one, it seemed to me, had written as soberly about the pain of colorism, about how absent fathers can derail a life, about the ways that class and gender complicate race. She dragged into the light issues plaguing lives that until then had rarely been discussed in the mainstream.

But her concerns were universal, and Morrison spoke about how thwarted desires, both grand and small, can utterly destroy a life. She was never instructive, nor was she relentlessly dark — there was always lightness, both in her touch and in her insistence on an essential human goodness. She was deeply moral without being moralizing.

And all this was written in a prose as exacting and exquisite as anything that has ever been set to paper. To read Morrison aloud is to revel in the astonishing musicality of the English language (which in these days of Twitter and Facebook is easy to forget). Her phrases were touched by the cadences of black dialects, but also by Homer and the King James Bible. I remember hearing her described as a “black Faulkner.” And yes, she did share William Faulkner’s almost alien reach with language, but she was sui generis, entirely her own creation. In the unexpected slide of her sentences, she was our foremost poet, our foremost truth teller.

Esi Edugyan is the author of “Half-Blood Blues” and “Washington Black.”

SHERRILYN IFILL

“The ‘word’ she brought forth was one of life, of dignity, of survival, of integrity.”

I always marvel when I see people reading Toni Morrison on the subway or on planes. When I read her, I am conscious that at any moment, her writing can, without warning, bring me to my knees, and provoke an embarrassing, emotional response I’d rather not have witnessed by strangers. This happened to me while reading “Home,” Morrison’s 2012 novel about a young man who returns to his hometown to save his sister Cee Money and reconcile them both to long-held family secrets.

As Cee recovers from abuse she suffered at the hands of a sadistic doctor, she is forced to address the profound issues of abandonment that made her vulnerable to abuse. Cee explains to one of the older women taking care of her that she was unloved by her mother and raised instead by a disapproving grandmother. Cee’s belief that she is unworthy of love has left her unable to protect herself. She gets no platitudes or sympathy in response. Her caretaker tells Cee that her emotionally impoverished childhood reflects her mother’s deficiency, not her own. Cee realizes that her mother should have cherished her and told her, “You my child. I dote on you. ... You born into my arms. Come on over here and let me give you a hug.”

Reading those words I unexpectedly burst into tears and wept for 20 minutes. Not tears of grief for Cee, but tears of gratitude for my own mother who, it suddenly and earth-shatteringly occurred to me, had done precisely this for me in the five short years we had together. Dying of cancer, and with nine other children who needed her love and attention, she managed to give her youngest the experience of unconditional, doting love that gave me an unshakable sense of my own worth, which I carry to this day. This is essential armor, Morrison tells us, that women need to meet the inevitable challenges to our self-esteem that we will confront in our lives.

I am also a huge fan of Morrison’s nonfiction work. Her 1992 volume about the issues of race and gender in the Clarence Thomas Supreme Court confirmation hearings was literally a bible for those who were shattered by that weeklong televised drama. She understood that to process what was for so many of us a kind of traumatic national event, we needed, as she wrote in her introduction, “perspective, not attitudes; context not anecdotes; analyses not postures.” She was there to help, assembling a “who’s who” of African American scholars who could situate this dramatic and devastating event into the framework of our historical and contemporary race and gender struggles.

And we cannot forget that Morrison’s voice was its own body of work. She was a kind of a preacher. Her interviews and speeches are mesmerizing. And the “word” she brought forth was one of life, of dignity, of survival, of integrity. When you listened to her, you believed that these were unmovable, nonnegotiable truths to which each one of us is entitled, because she so effortlessly embodied them.

Toni Morrison — who, it seemed, was always there — is gone. In her tribute to James Baldwin, Morrison wrote, “You gave us ourselves to think about, to cherish.”

This was also the gift she gave to us. Rest in power.

Sherrilyn Ifill is the president and director-counsel of the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund.

SARAH LADIPO MANYIKA

“I remember how we laughed.”

When I heard that Toni Morrison had died, I walked to a church in Peckham, South London, and sat on an empty bench outside. I wanted quiet, but I also yearned for the church bells to ring out in celebration of a mighty writer whose voice rang clearly in my head.

I remember that Easter Saturday, in 2017, when I spent an afternoon in Toni’s home — and she said to call her Toni. She told us about the novel she was working on. She planned to call it “Justice.” I remember how she sat straight-backed and magnificent in black trousers, caftan and woolen cap, waiting for the interview to begin.

She said in “Justice,” there was a slave owner named Goodmaster who made his slaves call themselves Goodmaster. The slaves kept the detested surname to make it easier to find each other in later generations. Three of the descendants would be her characters. She’d named them Courage, Freedom and Justice. I remember thinking we have not yet emerged from this struggle and wondering whether she completed “Justice” and whether justice can ever be complete.

When, in the course of our interview, I mentioned James Baldwin, she sighed lovingly and called him “Jimmy.” I remember what she wrote of him in the wake of his death — of his gifts to her of tenderness, courage and language. She, too, gave us these gifts, especially the courage to write our stories without a care for anyone’s gaze.

I remember her Nobel Lecture and the lines I had committed to memory: “Language can never ‘pin down’ slavery, genocide, war. Nor should it yearn for the arrogance to be able to do so. Its force, its felicity, is in its reach toward the ineffable.” In that lecture, she told the parable of an old woman, and I remember the intensity of the questions the woman is asked. “Tell us what it is to be a woman so that we may know what it is to be a man. What moves at the margin. What it is to have no home in this place. To be set adrift from the one you knew. What it is to live at the edge of towns that cannot bear your company.” Toni wrote that in 1993 — it could have been written in 2019.

I visited her guest bathroom that Easter Saturday and found it filled with photographs of writers I had long admired — Wole Soyinka, Gabriel García Márquez, Baldwin — and a letter from the Nobel Committee announcing its decision to award Morrison its highest honor. There was also a “Publication Denial Notification” outlining why Morrison’s novel “Paradise” was banned from Texas correctional facilities for fear of “inmate disruption such as strikes or riots.”

I remember just how much she made us laugh that day. I asked her what President Barack Obama had whispered to her after presenting her with the Presidential Medal of Freedom and being surprised when she said she didn’t remember. I realized later that she, the master storyteller, was simply explaining that when one is in awe of someone, what stays in the memory is not what is said but how it is said. It was her son who later asked Obama what he had whispered into his mother’s ear. “I love you,” Obama answered.

I remember at the end, telling her that my son wanted to know her secret to writing so well. “Tell him I’m a genius,” she smiled. I remember how we laughed.

Sarah Ladipo Manyika is a British-Nigerian novelist and author of “Like a Mule Bringing Ice Cream to The Sun.”

TAYARI JONES

“She wasn’t one to search for common ground; she was looking for the true path forward.”

People often ask me what Toni Morrison has meant to me as a writer. No novelist has influenced me more. I tip my hat to her in some way in each of my novels. In my latest, my hero is from the town of Eloe, the fictional hometown of Son, the troubled hero of “Tar Baby.” I make these gestures as an homage to the greatest writer of our time but also as a gesture of gratitude to the woman whose wisdom helped me understand my real life, the one I live in private, off the page.

Morrison wrote novels that gave us cautionary tales on life and love, but she also modeled the way forward. These stories nudge us away from respectability in favor of true respect for ourselves, and each other. She wasn’t one to search for common ground; she was looking for the true path. Her moral compass was impeccable and her intellect peerless. Her ear for the poetry, beauty and brilliance of African American language lifted us, reminding us that we are marvelous — anytime we open our mouths to speak.

Tayari Jones is a professor of creative writing at Emory University and the author of four novels, including “Leaving Atlanta” and “An American Marriage.”

JACQUELINE WOODSON

“Morrison had provided, through her characters, some of my earliest mirrors.”

I’m in Morocco and the emails, texts and WhatApps come at me: Toni Morrison has moved on to the next place. Weeks before, I’d spoken to some friends who’d told me that she was close to this transition, but a part of me thought, Aren’t we all? Isn’t each one of us living in this moment with all its madness, beauty and despair, knowing that at the end of this is death? Death and whatever we believe of what comes after.

And still …

What I know now — and have known for some time — is how fortunate I am to be walking through the world at this particular moment in time.

When I first read “The Bluest Eye,” I was a fifth- or sixth-grader. It was one of very few books on the shelves of our Brooklyn apartment. We could not afford shelves lined with books and depended on the neighborhood library for our weekly dose of new narratives. But the cover of my mother’s book had caught my eye — a photograph of a black woman dressed as a child and holding a white doll.

I despised this cover. And I was fascinated by it. A slow reader, I read through “The Bluest Eye” with my finger moving beneath the words. I remember being captivated by the story — so many people walking through it were like people walking through my own life. When I picked up the book again in high school, I would remember it as having a happy ending. I remembered Pecola Breedlove’s wish for blue eyes had come true and everyone lived happily ever after.

And for many months after reading “The Bluest Eye” for the second, third, fourth time, I was certain that Morrison had written two versions of the novel — one for children and one for adults. The adult version was stunningly heartbreaking. The children’s version — what was that? Something I could grasp parts of. Hold on to.

“The Bluest Eye” was an awakening for me. Already, I wanted to write. Already, I wanted to show and see representations of the people I loved on the page. Decades later, as an adult when I heard Rudine Sims Bishop talk about the importance of books being mirrors and windows for the reader, I’d realize that Morrison had provided, through her characters, some of my earliest mirrors. And windows. In the lives of the people she brought to the page, I began to see parts of myself in the world — reflected, legitimized, loved.

And so here I am now. Here we all are. Toni Morrison as light, as way, as ancestor. And the many writers she has left in her wake, and the many writers coming after, and those after them, will hopefully always know this: that because of her, we are.

Jacqueline Woodson, the author of “Harbor Me” and “Brown Girl Dreaming,” lives in Brooklyn.

MICHELE L. NORRIS

“I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to swim in her laughter and lean into her deliberate silence.”

My heart went to her words, but my mind went straight to her voice.

Perhaps because I worked so long in radio, it was her voice that washed over me when the news flash rolled in announcing that Toni Morrison had joined the ancestors. Her voice was as measured and magisterial as the words she put on the page. It had the quality of music, in the way that an artist can take a single note from a single instrument and make it hang in the air like tendrils of cigar smoke, move it back and forth like an old porch swing or send it drifting toward the moon like an owl in flight.

I imagine that many people reached for her books in their moment of grief. I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to swim in her laughter and lean into her deliberate silence — because she used silence as a kind of punctuation, pausing when she spoke to let her words sink in, long pauses to give you a moment to sop up her wisdom or perhaps in her own mind to say, “Mmm, that sounded good.”

Morrison’s speaking voice was low and feathery and playful, which is a bit of a conundrum because her writing voice cut like a knife — straight to the bone — examining the physical, spiritual and soul-crushing wounds of race and racial hatred.

I’ve interviewed Morrison several times and, though the books we discussed were always drenched in pain and heartbreak, the interviews felt like a visit to a juke joint. At a 2015 event, I asked her to begin our chat with a reading from a section of what was then her latest release, “God Help the Child.” She chose a passage that described her character Bride — a statuesque, dark-skinned woman dismissed as ugly by her parents and teachers and just about everyone else — as she discovers that she possesses a kind of magnetic power over men. A young Morrison had studied theater and you could hear the training as she danced through her prose. I looked out over the audience and several hundred people had their eyes closed in a trance. You could hear in Morrison’s voice how much she valued her own words. You could hear how much she valued black life.

I loved her voice, but I am most grateful for how she used it. She changed the publishing industry in the United States. That is not hyperbole. She was known as the “black editor” at Random House, and she wore the title like a badge of honor, using her perch to knock down doors previously closed to black writers. She edited Angela Davis, Chinua Achebe, Gayl Jones and Toni Cade Bambara.

She used that voice to encourage young writers and she challenged booksellers to stop placing even best-selling black authors in the black book section that was always — always — in some hard-to-find back corner of the store. And when she herself became a best-selling author, she used her voice to reject the notion that being a black writer was a subgenre of high literature. “Reject” is almost too soft a word. She was asked time and time again if she chafed at the term “black writer” or whether she would ever consider centering white characters in her work — and with a smile on her face, she flicked that off her shoulder, flung it to the floor and stomped on it with an elegant grace. “The inquiry comes from a position of being in the center and being used to being in the center and saying is it ever possible that you will enter the mainstream,” she once said.

She shot past the mainstream and elevated the highest levels of literature with her own language on her own terms. “I stood at the edge and claimed it as central,” she said. “Claimed it as central. And let the rest of the world move over to where I was.”

Michele L. Norris is a former host of NPR’s “All Things Considered” and the founding director of the Race Card Project.

LEAH WRIGHT RIGUEUR

“Once you’ve read her work, you cannot unread it or leave it behind.”

When I was 10 years old, I borrowed my mother’s copy of “The Bluest Eye.” I was a gluttonous reader, consuming every book I could get my hands on. But that’s not why I chose Toni Morrison’s book.

I had seen my mother, my aunts and their friends reading Morrison’s work. I listened silently, watching as they praised, argued and even gossiped over the layers and textures of Morrison’s words and stories. I wanted to be a part of that — not simply as a witness, but as part of their congregation, offering up my own testimony.

Reading Morrison’s words for the first time made my chest and my throat ache. It took me months to finish as I struggled to process the story. It was so different from anything I’d read. It was rawer, more precise and more cutting, but it was also so much freer. I couldn’t articulate it then (and even now, I struggle to do so), but I certainly could feel Morrison’s words. Her prose made me feel seen, visible. I could feel Morrison writing to me, about me, as she documented the rhythms of black girlhood and the fullness of black community in America, in all its joy and trauma. She loved black people so thickly that it pulsated through her prose.

Once you’ve read her work, you cannot unread it or leave it behind. The ideas and lessons linger — sometimes as a caress, other times as a slap. I have birthed two children in my life, and each time, Morrison’s words from “Beloved” emerged instinctively to haunt and comfort me: “Love is or it ain’t. Thin love ain’t no love at all.”

When I was a graduate student at Princeton University in the early 2000s, one of my most potent memories is of sitting in on Cornel West and Eddie Glaude’s class on the black intellectual tradition; on this day, our guests were Morrison, the actress Phylicia Rashad and Jay-Z (Shawn Carter). Turning to Carter, West asked the rapper to comment on his musical catalogue, his lyrics and race in America. Jay-Z vigorously shook his head, laughed and responded: “Why should I talk when Toni Morrison is here? She’s the one who taught me. I need to learn from her.” The room broke out in laughter born from a shared understanding that Morrison was our translator, our teacher, our literary great, our canon.

Long before I became a professional historian, Morrison put me through a masterclass in doing history imaginatively, reassuring me that the careful excavation of stories that unapologetically center black life and community was, and still is, a revolutionary act, especially for a black woman in America. “I write what I have recently begun to call village literature,” she once noted. “Fiction that is really for the village, for the tribe. … I think long and carefully about what my novels ought to do. They should clarify the roles that have become obscured; they ought to identify those things in the past that are useful and those things that are not; and they ought to give nourishment.” Morrison told us to explore that which is foreign, and to wrestle with both the beautiful and the horrifying parts of blackness, and to do it with clarity, love and empathy. She constantly reminded us that writing us “whole,” in all our intricacies and silences, was a necessary part of freedom. She leaves a legacy of limitless possibility, for our community, our liberation and for us: “The vitality of language lies in its ability to limn the actual, imagined and possible lives of its speakers, readers, writers.”

Leah Wright Rigueur teaches 20th-century American history and politics at Harvard University.

Diana Ejaita is an illustrator and textile designer based in Berlin.

#politics #u.s. news #us: news #international news #must reads #world news #obama #obama legacy #michelle obama #entertainment #arts and entertainment #toni morrison #sunday reads #women authors #favorite authors #female authors #african american

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5thinvictus · 6 years

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A Fan Review of Stan Lee’s Lucky Man

or ... A Gift That Should Have Never Been Given

I’ve had a ton of fun promoting this terrible show and now that it’s over, I thought I’ve give a quick review on what I thought of it overall.

So, TL;DR: Overall Score: D+

Character Consistency: C-

Narrative Strength: F

Acting: B

Re-watchability: Minimal.

For some reason, people think that if a show/movie is based on a comic book, that excuses it from the same scrutiny that other fictional works receive. Sorry, but this is actually very far from the case. In fact, comic readers are often used to dramatically higher standards for plot, narrative, character development than most of the subpar movies and TV shows that find their way into production these days.

In Short: Lucky Man, just because you were based on a comic, does not excuse you from the most basic plot holes which abounded within your meagerly meandering narrative.

Click below for my detailed review:

The Good:

Elizabeth Gray (Neve McIntosh):

I enjoyed this actress and her character’s arc. At first, you’re not sure what to make of her, but she proves that she’s a human being and not just a caricature of a strong female or a beautiful female. She makes mistakes and then she seeks to correct them. I liked this character a lot. She grew and it was consistent and believable.

Samuel Blake (Rupert Penry-Jones):

No, I’m not biased. Rupert is an exceptional actor, otherwise he wouldn’t be one of my favorites and this role was no different. Regardless of how terrible the writing was, he was splendid. Charismatic and likeably sinister. I started to root for the bad guy at some point mid-season, and no, not just because he’s Rupert (I never rooted for Clive reader ... not even once. He was such a asshole.)

His sudden reversal in the last episode was more than disappointing though. They’d set up the villain to be very, very principled. In fact, that was his most important quality and then, in the final episode, they completely reversed that? In the end though, Samuel Blake was one of the best things in this season.

The Cinematography:

The angles. The shots. The lighting. The costumes. They were all lovely. Consistently so. I enjoyed how good Lucky Man looked. The crew is phenomenal. They should have taken the writers’ salaries and divided it up to the cast & crew. They deserved ALL of the success of Lucky Man.

The Locations:

They really made London look incredible, but something has been bothering me quite a bit. Did they really need to fly to Hong Kong to film? There were very few shots that even gave hints that they were there and honestly, they could have cgi’d in most of that stuff. Clearly they were more focused on having fun filming than actually making a good show.

The Bad:

Suri Chohan (Amara Karan):

Good lord, this character was a brick. I felt nothing for her and I usually relate quite a bit to spunky, nerdy little sidekicks. She was dumb at every corner. Everyone got the drop on her. She was hyper emotional. She tried to sleep with the tall detective ... randomly.

I’m sorry, but she didn’t seem like a real person at all to me. She was a caricature of some ideal Mary Sue. Everyone loves Chohan. Chohan is morally and ethically perfect. Yeah ... no. I’ve better things to do than watch a character I cannot relate to in any way, shape, or form.

Harry Clayton (James Nesbitt):

James Nesbitt is an incredible actor, but Harry Clayton was such a miserable character that I didn’t care if he lived or died. He killed so many people. He was overly arrogant. I didn’t care about this character at all. In the later part of the season, I started to fast forward through most of his scenes.

The Narrative:

This was by far the worst aspect of the show. Nothing ever really made sense. Nothing. It was a strange combination of scenes people wanted to shoot coupled together loosely with vague reasons and meandering dialogue and unbelievable character motivations.

The What-The-Fuck:

Eve Alexandri (Sienna Guillory):

I totally understand being pissed at Harry because he let you die. I totally get that angle and they could have used that beautifully. They could have built a narrative around her that reinforced her falling for Blake, but they didn’t. They didn’t even bother.

She’d been brought up to protect the bracelets and it took Blake less than a day to tear her down? Absolute bullshit.

Blake kidnaps her, after she said she would listen to him, and throws her off a bridge (which she nearly dies from), and she forgives him and not Harry? Absolute bullshit.

So, she will forgive an hot stranger from trying to kill her, but she won’t forgive her best friend who did so to save another life? Absolute bullshit.

And then, in a matter of days (or weeks?), Blake has turned her into a ruthless killer and she convinces him to kill his entire family in front of her? Yeah, what?

She has no principles. No loyalties. No ethics. She has a poorly fabricated fight with Harry and then runs to Blake. After one fight. One. She can be turned away from her entire life’s goal because Blake winks at her? And then, in the end, Blake says ONE mean thing to her and she tries to kill him. And then, in the end, she turns on Blake suddenly. “OH NO! NOT THAT MUCH INNOCENT BLOOD!”

Absolute bullshit.

What a miserable and unbelievable character.

A scantly clad Samuel Blake:

Ok ok ok. Yeah, this is absolutely a “what-the-fuck” topic. As much as I enjoyed seeing him shirtless (and pants-less) ... over and over and over again, it was absolutely pointless and shouldn’t have been in the show. EVEN THOUGH I FUCKING LOVED IT: That whole ... “I’m gonna walk through the morgue naked.” scene was unnecessary and it really did detract from the story. Why didn’t he just take the doctor’s clothes? Seriously. He was heading out to meet Eve and he just happens across some pants ... he would have taken the Pathologist’s pants. Anyone who argues otherwise is an idiot.

This was such blatant fan baiting / fan service.

A side rant here: As a fan of RPJ, this nudity really should have been fun, but the hardest part of it was the fact that there’s a small but very vocal minority of Rupert’s fan base which consider themselves his Morality Police. It’s really just a handful of people using multiple accounts to fabricate dialogue, in an attempt to shame him (mind you, by directly tagging him on Twitter), on an almost daily basis, over his body. They also shame fans for appreciating his body and no one better find him sexually attractive or you will be targeted.

Plot Holes:

I’m just gonna go over the holes in 3x08. There are holes in EVERY episode, but I’ll focus on the last one because I want to push everything about this show out of my mind now.

Wasn’t Blake a drug addict?

At some point, I’m convinced the writers changed and they completely forgot about the most fundamental flaw that we’ve been given about Samuel.

In the last two episodes, that was just gone. Since it was such an important aspect that they were setting up in the beginning, you’d think that it would come into play at some point in the finale. Withdraw or making him entirely numb again (Like in Sam and Harry’s first fight). It should have come full circle. It should have played SOME part in his demise, but it didn’t. In fact, there was no point to it at all.

It didn’t make him more or less evil. It didn’t make him more or less relatable. They didn’t use it in a way to explain anything. Not his actions or his motivations. It was complexity that was added as a superficial trait and then not used in the narrative at all.

Shameful writing.

ಠ_ಠ

Wasn’t Blake the head of a massive Chinese mafia?

At some point, they completely forgot about the Wu Chi. His prison fight was fabricated ahead of time and the Snake Hands carried out his instructions, and then ... just vanished. He is supposed to be the head of a massive Chinese mafia and yet, they all just vanished.

Any Wu Chi guards at his factory? Nope. Of course not, otherwise how would Harry just sneak in at the end. Any Wu Chi guards helping him infiltrate Madame Cheng’s stronghold? Nope. I ... guess ... not? Did they run out of money for asian extras?

Couldn’t they have scrubbed the unnecessary trip to Hong Kong to pay for more extras?

So, what was the point of him being a Dragon Head again?

In the end, there was no point.

ಠ_ಠ

Blake was all about planning ahead and he didn’t steal the Uranium BEFORE he got himself purposefully arrested?

Don’t even get me started on the plot from 3x06. Blake’s plan was to get arrested, fake his death, and break out? Even the whole “waking up in the morgue” thing didn’t make sense. Why didn’t Eve get his body out? Why was she just waiting outside for him?! Ugh, I digress ... focus on 3x08, focus on just 3x08 ...

So Blake’s been setting up this fission chamber for a while, right? He brags about buying that factory years earlier in preparation. In fact, he’s even got a handful of handy scientists to get it all up for him. How clever, I guess? But, he never bothered getting the Uranium before he purposefully got himself arrested? His entire plan hinged on being able to get his hands on MOTHER FUCKING URANIUM ... and he didn’t plan ahead for that ... at all? His entirely plan was to wait until his access was revoked and then find someone to torture the information out of?

That’s ... uh ... really, really weak. This entire fission / nuclear thing seemed like an afterthought in the writing room when they realized they’d written themselves into a corner.

Writer 1: Ah shit. How is Blake even gonna destroy them? It doesn’t make sense that the Torches would bring the forging weapons to London. They had to have hidden them, right?

Writer 2: *having just watched The Strain* I KNOW! Let’s have him NUKE THEM!

ಠ_ಠ

Seriously, Harry basically killed that poor scientist.

This wasn’t a plot hole, but it seriously bothered me. You know that man. The one he strangely head butted. The one messing with the fission machine. Was the man even evil? Did he know what he was hired to do? Did he know that the controlled fission reaction was to destroy magical braclets and the chain reaction would melt down and likely kill him and thousands of people? Doesn’t matter, he wasn’t useful to the plot, so Harry just ... killed him.

How did Harry know how to remove the Uranium?

He just walks over, reaching in to the machine, turns it and pulls it out. He didn’t even know what it looked like. I guess he was just ... lucky? Pfffttt. Whatever. It’s just a little thing, but it’s still fucking lazy.

Why wasn’t Blake armed? What the fuck was he doing?

There’s simply no way that Blake would have been walking around the factory without his gun. He would have just shot Harry from above. And before anyone says: He wouldn’t risk the fission machine! He was wearing the bracelet.

This was so fabricated. Was he pooping or something and that’s why he set his gun down on the desk?

And again, why didn’t he have Wu Chi guards ... or even a surveillance system set up? There’s NO WAY that place didn’t have security if he had a fission machine INSTALLED in it. And he already said he’d owned it from several years.

Seriously? WTF Lucky Man.

ಠ_ಠ

Why didn’t Blake notice Eve had escaped?

She was tied to the fission machine and he didn’t even notice she was gone. Ok then ... maybe it was because he was high?! They didn’t even bother to address it at all. Not to mention the fact that ... wasn’t it unlucky to Blake for Eve to have escaped? Wasn’t he wearing the bracelet?

Also, wasn’t it unlucky for Eve to have put the other one on him? Shouldn’t she have tripped or something? Shouldn’t he have been able to stop her BECAUSE of the bracelet he was already wearing?!

Writers: Create the rules for your world and then stick to them. Don’t change things because you want a scene to play out a specific way. You make the rules, so stick to them.

ಠ_ಠ

Harry’s hiding in his brother’s flat.

The entire country is on the lookout for Harry and Blake. He’s considered a domestic terrorist at this point and he’s hiding ... in his brother’s flat.

Where the fuck is Mi5?! Seriously, no. This is SO dumb. FFS.

No one’s tracking his brother or his brother’s phone. No one’s bothering with anything. Harry keeps walking out into public. He approaches the Security Guards in the URANIUM shipment (armed guards), and even tells them HIS NAME. I find it unlikely that security professionals wouldn’t have been even MORE briefed on him than the general public (which already was).

ಠ_ಠ

Eve was pregnant.

I guess this was a poor attempt to explain away her sudden motivational shift, but it was so contrived.

So what? Samuel forgot to wrap it? Fucking unlikely, don’t you think? Was he super, super high one night or something? Because, you’ve shown us he’s incredibly pedantic and he plans everything TO A TEE.

I guess Eve forgot she wasn’t on birth control either? Maybe she was super high too, I guess?

Maybe the condom broke and it just slipped Blake’s mind? Given, unplanned pregnancies obviously occur, but I find it unbelievable that it would happen between these two characters as you’ve presented them to us.

Also, how long were they even together? Was it days or was it weeks?

In the end, she was the character I felt should have gotten her just deserts MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE and yet, she lived. She was inconsistent, without loyalty or morals or ethics, and she gets to live. Thanks Lucky Man.

ಠ_ಠ

So ... To Summarize:

Lucky Man wasn’t a good show, but it was a hell of a guilty pleasure and I’m actually gutted it’s over, because I loved watching Rupert work again and hot damn, did Mr. Penry-Jones look smashing in it (as always).

Cheers.

#stan lee's lucky man #lucky man #lucky man season 3 #fan review #review #rant #Lucky Man was terrible #Thanks for coming to my TED talk

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blancasplayground · 6 years

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Best and Worst of AoS Season 5

Here is my season five postmortem, in the form of a roundup of what I loved and didn't love. It got really long, so I won't spend too much time on the intro. Let's just dive in. Obviously, major spoilers for the entirety of the season follow.

Best: The Future

For the first half of season five it felt like the team was stuck in a dystopian YA novel. In a good way. It was a bold move to completely change the look and feel of the show, but it worked from both a narrative and production standpoint. Not only did it make the best use of the reduced budget, since they could film primarily indoors on smaller-scale sets, but they didn't have to deal with the goings on in the MCU back home (that would come later -- and it's not on the "best" list). Creating a future from scratch requires tremendous imagination and planning, and they delivered a rich backdrop. I was sorry to leave behind the characters we met there, like Tess and Flint. Of course, they had to return to the present eventually, but they did a really good job of world-building for those episodes.

Worst: Contradicting Time Theories

The showrunners have said in interviews that there were a lot of heated discussions in the writer's room about time travel logic, and it shows. Back in the season-three episode "Spacetime" they gave us one answer (which happened to be one I really liked) -- time is an illusion. As Fitz explained, the past, present and future happen simultaneously. We just experience it in a linear way because we're limited to the third dimension. So it cannot be changed. But when they blew up the Earth for the season’s main storyline, they also blew up that theory, because they HAD to change the future now. They weren't going to allow the world to be cracked apart. It's not that kind of show. Plus, they’re still tied to the MCU, so they couldn't let that future play out. And yet, when they returned to the past they had characters still behaving as if it were fixed (the whole "invincible three" idea, which so many people disliked), but trying to change it anyway. Either the future is pre-determined or it isn't. Trying to have it both ways makes for sloppy and confusing stories. It also gives viewers a headache.

Best: Fitz's Journey

Fitz's absence was notable in the first few episodes, but to make up for it we got "Rewind," one of the best episodes of the season. We saw Fitz struggling with his dark side, only to have to embrace it in the future to save Jemma and Daisy in the most badass way (a total "baller move" as Daisy put it). The blend of pre- and post-Framework Fitz was exactly what they needed at the time. Unfortunately, it may have opened the door for The Doctor to take control in "The Devil Complex." He got a chance to marry the love of his life, but that happiness was short lived. His psychological break (which was an incredible reveal and riveting to watch from an acting standpoint) and what he did to Daisy split the team and the audience, sparking a lot of debate about the nature of good and evil both on screen and off. Which, I think, was exactly the point. Was he redeemable? Could he have learned to control his dark side? Could the team ever learn to accept this new version of Fitz and his morally questionable, yet undeniably effective, methods? We'll never know. Which brings me to . . .

Worst: Fitz's Death

(Jemma gif because I can’t watch that death scene anymore.)

(But this is almost as bad.)

We've been over this, and the wounds are still fresh, so I won't rehash what so many others have said more eloquently. I will point out that the issue is not with the death itself. They had to do it in order to bring back Cryo Fitz (or perhaps because they knew they could), who hasn't experienced the majority of season five. It's an intriguing idea, and should open up a lot of pathways for his story next season. Also, it gave Iain another chance to show off his crazy talent (like he needed more this season, but whatever, we're grateful). It's just the way they did it, and the fact that anyone thought this would be an acceptable sendoff for a fan-favorite character if it really was the last episode. The fake-out (which wasn't even a proper fake out because they REALLY DID have to bury Fitz) undercut what should have been a bigger moment -- Phil's departure and impending death as well. They botched it, plain and simple, and there's no taking that back.

Best: Philinda Endgame

They took their time getting there, but May and Coulson finally expressed their feelings for each other (at least, the human versions), each in their own signature way. May finally telling Phil she loved him just to shut him up was classic May. And that kiss behind the shield ought to go down as one of most iconic TV kisses in history. I sincerely hope they get lots of parasailing in, and, despite it being a lovely sendoff, that we'll see one or both of them back next season. Incidentally, I believe the fact that Robin drew the two of them on the beach in Tahiti before they changed the future means that they wound up together in the previous version of the loop too. Of course, Phil had to be gone to allow May to become Robin's mom, and now I'm giving myself a headache again. See what you've done, season five!

Worst: Team Infighting

This show is never better than when the characters work together as a team, whether it's on an action-packed mission or simply solving a problem on the ground. Which makes the decision to split everyone up along multiple fault lines later in the season a confusing and super frustrating move that wasn't at all fun to watch. Families fight, sure, but the divisions this year were deep, involving the loss of trust and respect, and the questioning of each other's core moral principles. These are not minor squabbles. I'm not sure what they were trying to accomplish by stepping up the tension and having them take sides against each other in the face of their greatest challenge yet, but I don't think it worked out the way they wanted it to. I would love to see everyone come back together and be a family again, as long as it's done realistically without sacrificing characterization.

Best: Graviton

With this season possibly being the last, the writers took the opportunity to pick up a thread they'd left dangling in episode three. Ever since the introduction of gravitonium way back when, fans have been wondering if the show would follow through and deliver the major comic-book villain Graviton. Considering this season could have been the show's swan song, it was a good time to deliver on that promise. And they did, in a way that was surprising yet somehow fitting. Glenn Talbot has been a thorn in Coulson's side since he showed at the end of season one, so to have him become the final Big Bad is a satisfying, if tragic, fate for the character. Especially since, in his twisted mind, he believed he was doing the right thing, right up until the end.

Worst: Ruby Red Herring

Sorry Dove Cameron fans, but the show let your girl down. Despite the potential in her first few episodes, Ruby never lived up to the compelling, cutthroat (or cut-arm, haha) villain they set her up to be (her hooded alter ego never even got a cool villain nickname). As it turned out, she was only there as a distraction, to confuse the characters and the audience about the real identity of the Destroyer of Worlds. And just as she was getting interesting -- the way she watched and mimicked Fitzsimmons alone told us more about her cold upbringing and the lack of human connection in a few moments than we got in all her episodes before that -- they killed her off to give the team something else to fight about.

Best: Nostalgic Callbacks and Fan Service

We got so many callbacks to previous seasons throughout season five. Maybe it's because the writers knew there was a chance this would be the last year, so they packed in as many references to the history of the show as they could. There was also the milestone 100th episode, which naturally lent itself to looking back. In addition to paying off older plot points (see above re: Graviton) they directly acknowledged their loyal viewers with that "small but active fan base" line. It was exciting seeing Mike again. And good to have Davis back too, with his mysterious survival story (that I hope they never reveal). Not to mention Hunter (which I will, down below). These were all gifts to long-time fans and we ate them up.

Worst: Infinity War Tie-In

If you're going to go there (and yeah, they had to, given the show's history), then fully commit to it, rather than using the cop out of ending the season just before the movie's biggest moment. Anyone who's seen it knows that the ending could potentially have a major impact on the show. So embrace that (imagine Phil handing Mack the keys to Lola, only to watch them fall to the ground). Or they could have used the multiverse to disconnect from the MCU once and for all. There were already so many questions going into the finale, whether they would or wouldn't go through with the snap was one debate I could have lived without. And it's still up in the air as to whether it will be a factor next season. Given that the airdate is after the next movie comes out, I'm inclined to think not, but I kind of wish we didn't even have to worry about it.

Bonus Bests:

The Return of Lance Hunter

Every single moment he was in was pure gold. I really hope we haven't seen the last of him.

Fitzsimmons Wedding

I mean, obviously. So beautiful and emotional. A shining moment of light to balance the darkness of the rest of the season..

Deke

I love Deke. End of story. He is still around and he will be back. See my explanation post here. I have no official confirmation of this, I'm just thinking positively.

One final note: These gifs were pulled from all over. I’m still rather new to Tumblr, so if you see something that’s yours and would like credit, let me know (and also if you could let me know how to do it that would be great).

#agents of shield #agents of shield s5 #aos #fitzsimmons #philinda #phil coulson #daisy johnson #leo fitz #jemma simmons #alphonso mackenzie #yoyo rodriguez #deke shaw

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thisweekingundamwing · 7 years

Text

TWIGW March 18-24th

Happy Spring, amazing fandom!

Check out all the cool stuff we have for you this week below, and remember to show the creators some love!

Thanks for all you do!

-Mod CB

Fanfiction:

A Little Piece of Gundam Wing

The archive is being ported to AO3! Check it out!

Amberly with @yourbloodlikewine

In This Light

Duo spent the last semester working in his older brother's coffee shop. He's resigned himself to a boring spring when a stranger appears, shaking up his entire life. Eli left home last fall, choosing to spend the last six months living out of his van on his travels from the Midwest to the East Coast. By the time he arrives at Ink's, the novelty of traveling alone has started to wear off. Still, the last thing he's expecting is to meet someone who's going to change all that for him

Pairings: 2xOMC, 3xOMC, Solo x OMC,

Warnings: Rape/Noncon, Original Characters - Freeform, Alternate Universe, child abuse mention, Sexual Assault Mention, homophobic parents, Re-Written Characters, Drug Use, Violence, off screen murder, gratuitous author indulgence

@anaranesindanarie

The Shinigami and The Silencer

They say a person only needs three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for. I had all three, despite my rough start in life. I had a lover, a hobby that I loved, and I had a hope… hope that my lover would get better, that we would be together forever. But he didn’t. He died in a hospital bed, cold and alone as I watched through a window, my body covered in chains. I wasn’t even allowed to bury him as the prison sent his body off to be cremated. My heart broke that night and the next day, on the way to my execution, I killed five of my guards before the others opened fire. I was dead before I hit the floor, my blood staining it. Why was I being executed you ask? Let me tell you the story of The Shinigami and The Silencer.

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Major Character Death, death, angst

@claraxbarton

Singularity

Dr. Trowa Barton has a problem - he's this close to figuring out the secret to manufacturing a nanocarbon black pigment that could compete with Vantablack. But he's also hit a dead end, and he's tired and maybe a night of drinking beer and painting Beagles is exactly what he needs to get his research back on track.

Pairings: 2x3, 3x5, 2x3x5

Warnings: Art, Science, Chemistry, singularity - Freeform, AU, ex-lovers now friends, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, drunken sexy times, sober sexy times, weird art, i mean. maybe it's not weird. to each their own, nanocarbon black, paint pigments, what are these tags, Quatre is a good wingman

Silver Strand

Summary: The world had shifted, boundaries had been crossed, right and wrong had long ago been abandoned. A dark story of revenge, love, loss and drug smuggling. AU set in Coronado, California in the 1970s. Based on/Inspired by Joshuah Bearman’s “Coronado High”

Multiple pairings including but not limited to: 1x2, 2x5, 2x3, 2x3x5, 13x2, RxH, 9xS, 6x4

Warnings: Angst, drug use, Vietnam-era politics

@claraxbarton , @kangofu-cb

Bad Company

"The only hell and the only paradise are the ones we build ourselves." - Unknown Years after the wars, Preventers has decided to tackle one of the most powerful and oldest of all the Terran crime syndicates. Embedded dangerously deep in an undercover operation targeting the violent and bloodthirsty Sinaloa Cartel, Trowa Barton is pushed beyond even his flexible morals - and when his new "partner" arrives in the very unexpected and unwelcome form of Duo Maxwell, the one person he'd been trying to protect at all costs, both men must deal with the realization that preserving peace for humanity is turning into a bloodsport.What follows is race against time to uncover the evidence they need to bring Sinaloa, and its beautiful but deadly leaders, down - all while keeping each other alive in the process

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Post-Canon, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Human Trafficking, Gang Violence, Canon Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Moral Dilemmas

Foopy, kirallie

Knights of Avalon

Multi-series crossover fic

The Galaxy is a weird, wonderful and dangerous place. There is far more to history than anyone remembers.

Warnings: Very AU, Stargate pushed up to movie in '04, sentient weapons, many dates have been played with to fit

@kangofu-cb

If You Let Me

If Trowa could give the new residents one rule for surviving the ICU, it would be ‘Don’t Touch Anything. (Especially The Patients.)’. In reality, he’d actually give them a lot of rules, possibly with diagrams for clarity. But his main rule essentially covered the bases. When you worked in one of the largest ICUs, in the biggest medical center in the country, at a hospital known for taking on unstable patients for the most complex and risky surgeries that were performed no-where else, new residents were a menace. Until he meets Dr. Maxwell, the newest anesthesia resident.

Pairings: 2x3, background HxD

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Medical, Doctor/Patient, Nurses & Nursing, Fluff and Smut, this is literally my feel good thing guys ok, I mean I'm not saying there won't be any angst, but basically this is all WAFF, Explicit Sexual Content

@ladyjstruth-blog

Friend Zone

Duo and Hilde's wedding is fast approaching but after a heartwrenching breakup, how will Trowa and Quatre get through the weekend?

Pairings: 3x4, 2xH, 1xR

Warnings: Drama and Romance, Post-Canon

LadyLilyAnne, Melfice13

The Trials & Tribulations of a High Society Shinigami

Duo was a very caring woman, an open book so to speak, always there to help those that needed it with a smile on hand. The problem was she was surrounded by insane men who needed to be watched over like kids and her fellow women left her to it. Resigning herself to being the team mom Duo did her best, but she hadn't planned on Heero admitting he loved her. Things are weird now...

Pairings: 1x2, 3x4

Warnings: Fem Duo, oblivious characters, Developing Relationship, Obssessed Relena, Obssessed Zechs, The Pink Thing, Explosions, Non-Graphic Violence, Duo and Trieze Have a Weird Friendship, Non-Chronological, Related Drabbles, gratuitous cursing

LavenderKisses

Stay

Duo watches Heero leave his bed every time the phone rings. All he wishes is that, for once, he would stay.

Pairings: 1x2, 1xR

Warnings: Angst, Songfic

Lil_1337

2018 Comment Fic_Feburary

Drabbles and short fics written for the Live Journal community Comment Fics which can be found here: http://comment-fic.livejournal.com

Multiple fandoms/pairings, please see chapter specific warnings

Lthanz

Life is War

Multi-series crossover fic

Sequel to 'Life is Fringe'. Five years later, Max, Chloe, and Kevin have settled into their new lives. However, they soon find themselves caught up in a power-struggle between two powerful men competing to control the fate of the world. Loyalties will be tested but a greater threat looms in the darkness, ready to strike.

Characters: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Kate Marsh/Original Character(s), Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Chloe Price (Life Is Strange), Kate Marsh, Olivia Dunham, Treize Khushrenada, Natasi Daala, Lucrezia Noin, Lady Une

Warnings: Science Fiction & Fantasy, War, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Crossover, Multiple Crossovers, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, pricefield

Luvsanime02

The Taste of Peaches

A @gwcocktailfriday submission

Relena's had a long day, and so she stops off somewhere for a drink or two.

Pairings: none

Warnings: AU- modern setting, introspection

Maldoror

The Source of All Things

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

Pairings: 3x4, 2x5, eventual 1x2x5

Warnings: alternative universe, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Two Halves

The two kingdoms of Sanq and Lin were at war for years; a conflagration involving magic, armies and political murder. The conflict left both nations devastated and strewn with refugees. The king of Sanq finds his infant son, lost at birth, among the death and the ruin, a miracle he barely dared to hope for. But there isn't just one boy, there are two, clinging together like two halves of a whole that cannot be separated. Decades later, the truth behind that second child’s existence will put a hole in the world, or possibly save it.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Fantasy AU, medieval setting with magic, starts with our heroes as children, Cousin Incest, sort of, eventually, being royalty this is in fact the norm and rather expected of them, Canon-Typical Violence

Merula31

Sleepless

It started that first night that I got him out of the hospital. I don't know where he found the time between raiding my gundam for parts and fixing his, but he did. He slipped into my room, managing not to wake me up until he got into bed with me.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Yaoi, Lime, Implied Lemons, post war-ness, Angst, Sappy, POV Alternating, Spoilers, but if you haven't seen the series by now - what's wrong with you???, Original Character(s), Preventers (Gundam Wing), but no action, well - not THAT kind, Suicide Attempt, Misunderstandings

@miss-m-muses

The Cabin

Trowa’s debut novel became a best-seller and now he is failing at writing a follow up. In order to find peace and quiet to write, he rents a secluded cabin near a small town to find inspiration. Yet writing becomes hard when he keeps hearing howls from the woods in the middle of the night and even harder when he meets a charming diner owner named Duo…

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Explicit Sexual Content

@noelleian

Open Book for @weiclown (Moreena)

One would think being skewered on a rapier was the worst part, but then Quatre was always full of surprises.

Pairings: 3x4, 1xR

Warnings: Humor, Canon Compliant, Takes Place Between the End of the Series and Odds and Evens, Trowa's POV, Injured!Quatre, Delirious!Quatre, Love Doctor!Duo, Iatrophonia - Fear of Doctors and Hospitals, At Least Sally Has Her Shite Together, Fluff, Friendship

@noirangetrois

The Story of Wrong

Duo recounts his experiences during the war in order to explain... well, why he was wrong.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Angst, Drama, Tragedy, slight AU, Spoilers, very dark, Heero and Duo don't dieI, promise, Yaoi, slowburn, Mental Instability, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, If those are in any way an issue for you then go ahead and skip this, Eventual Smut, VERY eventual, this is mostly canon-compliant but I've changed a couple things here and there

@passingdestinies (MorbidBirdy)

Animus

A ghost of Heero's past takes possession of his life, relationships and his identity.

Pairings: 1x3, 2xH

Warnings: Post-Canon, Psychological Torture, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content

PubLicEneMyNumBah1

Super Robot Wars GQ

Multi-series crossover

Long gone are the Ancient Ones and the will of Mankind triumphs, yet with catastrophes and wars that beset them, will their reign soon end?

Original Character(s), Mecha, Giant Robots, Gundams, Crossover, Multiple Crossovers, Action/Adventure, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Alien Invasion, War, Canon Rewrite, Space Battles, Cthulhu Mythos, Pseudoscience

QMC

Over Tea & Other Things

The first fan-fiction piece that I wrote back in 2010 on FF.net. I've edited it a little. "Tea" is the first of a series I decide to write about general moments and life rather than on any significant story line or plot point. They're all stand alone pieces so I'll keep them here as chapters rather than in separate posts. Comments are welcome. :)

@remsyk-blog

Souls for the Bayou for @maevemauvaise and written for @fandomtrumpshate

For Trowa Barton, exploring the bayou is the ultimate adventure. Drawn to its borders since before he could walk, he spent his childhood learning its paths and uncovering its secrets. But a chance encounter sets him on a path that spans across time, challenging everything he thought he knew, plunging him deeper into its mysteries than he ever thought possible.

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Supernatural - Freeform, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Bayou, Cajun, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Mystery, Slow Burn, Technically Speaking, Young Love, Use of accents, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't want to give it all away at once, Fandom Trumps Hate

Robot_Qwerty

Finding Home Again

Harry Potter crossover

Morgan lost any family he had left during the horrors of the Canadian Civil War, he lived on his own and carved out his own existence at eighteen years old. Adventure and magic only existed in fairy tales and daydreams, survival is all he knows anymore. The Civil War ends a little before the Eve Wars. So when the new laws after the Eve Wars come into place, his world was turned upside down and Canada's new government left little choice to the die-hard patriots. Finally escaping to the Sanq Kingdom wasn't the sanctuary he had hoped it would be. Add the former Gundam Pilots to the mix and he might just find his escape, or will he never find the freedom he craves?

Pairings: 4x5, 1x2, 3xOMC, Sx11xOFC

Warnings: Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Mental Health Issues

sylvieforaday

Neighbors

A/U - Meilan is learning, not everything happens the way you thought it would. Sometimes you fall for the perfect girl next door when she gets knocked off her pedestal.

Pairings: Meilan x Relena

Warnings: None

@the-indomitable-bhg, @passingdestinies (BHG and Morbidbirdy)

End of Line

The Grid, the legendary Tron System, has always intrigued Duo Maxwell. After years of dreaming and months of tireless work, he finally receives the final part he needs to unlock the door to the digital frontier. A blast of a digitizing laser later he finds himself in the world of his dreams. However, soon that dream becomes a nightmare as he comes to realize that his existence in this new world is both a danger to him and to the programs who reside there. With the help of Security Program Trowa and a mysteriously damaged and glitchy program named Heero, he embarks on a journey through The Grid to seek help from a mysterious entity known as the Gatekeeper. Will he be able to get out of the Tron System, or will the organizations who are hunting him manage to derez him first?

Pairings: 1x3, 3x4

Warnings: Slash, AU, Angst, Post-Tron: Legacy, Action/Adventure, implied sexual violence, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Complete

white_fox

Life Is A Highway

On an impulsive plan to travel from California to New York City to propose to his longtime girlfriend, Heero Yuy did not plan to pick up a hitchhiker in nowhere Texas. Faced with some setbacks and a growing attraction to his passenger, Heero goes through more challenges than he planned on facing.

Pairings: 1x2, 1xR

Warnings: light slash, Fluff, Road Trips, Dubious Morality

Snippets:

@lifeaftermeteor

LAM!verse - Duo and Trowa chatting

@ransomedbard

Snippet Saturday

Photo Edits/Manipulations

@gundamwing-ellesmith

What if Gundam Wing was real? - Chang Wufei’s office ft. Sally

What if Gundam Wing was real? - Une

What if Gundam Wing was real? - Sally’s table ft. Wufei

@kangofu-cb

Whose Line photo edit - “Gundam Wing, where everything’s made up and the ‘canon’ don’t matter.

Multiple Contributors

Come at me Yuy

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

@lifeaftermeteor

L1′s origins and history

@ransomedbard

GW and cars headcanon

Fanart:

@downwarddnaspiral

Relena ice skating

@duointherain

Duo

@hackedmotionart

Just Wild Beat

@huehanya

Gundam Wing re-watch comic

@lemontrash

Heero doodle

@noelleian

Human Sandrock

@noromax

Wufei

Calendar Events:

Cocktail Friday

https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/

A new prompt every Monday!

Submissions should be posted Fridays between 3 and 5pm EST, and tagged with @gwcocktailfriday

Interview with a Creator by @remsyk-blog @interview-with-a-creator

Remsyk has created an online interview for fandom creators to fill out and then she features one each week so that everyone in the fandom can learn a bit about each other.

If you haven’t filled out her interview, go! do! now!

This week’s featured creator is @cosmostar - check her interview out here!

Calling all GW COSPLAYERS by @ahsimwithsake

Metrowing—our gundam wing cosplay group that comes to metrocon (Tampa Florida) every year—will be hosting a panel at Metrocon 2018!

We’re looking for additional cosplayers to round out the cast for a Q&A panel on Friday 7/20 at 4 pm.

If you’re interested, please private message me here on tumblr. I can provide you with more information and set you up with a group Skype chat with the metrowing cosplayers.Help us celebrate 25 years of Gundam Wing!

Check post for more information.

NHK is running a poll for the 40th anniversary of Mobile Suit Gundam!

Voting is open here

You can vote for your favorite series (TV, OVA, and Movie only), mobile suit (pick 3), characters (pick 5), and songs (pick 2). Unfortunately the site is in Japanese but with the help of Google Translate, it’s easy enough to navigate. Let’s vote our GW boys to the top!

Gundam Wing Stream Rewatch by @the-indomitable-bhg and @amyole

Post found here - they are currently looking for interest/time suggestions/platform suggestions.

#TWIGW #this week in gundam wing #march 18th through 24th #3/18-3/24 #mod cb

15 notes · View notes

the-desolated-quill · 7 years

Text

The Witch’s Familiar - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Now that we’ve gotten past the pointless and mindless prologue that was The Magician’s Apprentice, I was hoping that The Witch’s Familiar would be where the meat of the story would be. Sadly there’s barely any meat on this thing.

Yes, while The Witch’s Familiar has more narrative coherence than the previous episode did, sticking to one time and location for the most part, it’s in fact just as bad as The Magician’s Apprentice, if not worse.

Let’s start with the biggest problem. Davros. Specifically how he’s utilised. Seeing boy Davros on the Skaro battlefield was quite an exciting development and could have opened up some interesting directions for the character to go down. Unfortunately that’s not the case. Turns out the story is not about Davros at all. It’s, once again, all about the Doctor. What? You thought Moffat had finally stopped the introspective bullshit in Death In Heaven? You thought the Doctor’s speech about being just a guy in a box was the end of the matter? Well you’d be wrong, wouldn’t you? It looks like brooding angst is going to be a staple of the Twelfth Doctor’s tenure, so you’d better get used to it.

Good God, I’m so fucking tired of this crap. Not only has the Doctor’s constant, guilt driven introspection been serving as a detriment to numerous plots, it also doesn’t make a pixel of sense, especially when you consider who he spends most of his time talking to in this story. Remember in the episode Journey’s End back in the RTD era where Davros started flinging moral judgements at the Doctor? Remember how bloody stupid that was? Well The Witch’s Familiar is like that, but somehow even stupider (and I didn’t even think that was possible). Once again the Doctor’s good guy credentials are being criticised with no justification whatsoever, and it’s hard to take it seriously because it’s fucking Davros. Davros is the one waggling his finger disapprovingly at the Doctor. Davros. Forgive me if I don’t consider Space Hitler fit enough to judge the Doctor’s moral standing.

It’s such a shame because both Peter Capaldi and Julian Bleach really give it their all and you can tell they’re really trying for something hard-hitting and emotional, but it just doesn’t work because the whole thing is utterly ridiculous. At one point Davros asks the Doctor if he’s a good man and whether he did the right thing trapping his own race inside pepper pots, which is clearly supposed to mirror the Doctor’s question to Clara in Into The Dalek, but it’s so fucking daft because... IT’S FUCKING DAVROS! He’s a racist, genocidal maniac who performed brutal experiments on his own people and was responsible for the deaths of billions. Let’s just say Santa Claus won’t be paying him a visit anytime soon. That got quite possibly the biggest laugh out of me this whole episode. And it just gets even weirder when you consider the Doctor’s response. I could buy the Doctor visiting his deathbed, taking pity on him and even sharing a laugh with him (they’ve had a long history after all). But giving him some of his regeneration energy?

IT’S FUCKING DAVROS!!!

I know I must sound like a heartless bastard, but I honestly wasn’t moved by the Doctor and Davros’ interactions. Not even slightly. It’s just too stupid and too unlikely for words. And it just gets worse when you find out that the two have been lying to each other through their back bloody teeth this all time. Were you moved by Davros’ emotional pleas to the Doctor? Turns out he was lying the whole time! He just wanted the Doctor’s regeneration energy for his Daleks (they never explain why or how this would benefit the Daleks. Moffat was too busy trying to be clever rather than filling in that little detail for us) and didn’t mean a single fucking thing he said. But it’s okay because the Doctor was lying too! Yeah, he knew all along that Davros was lying and so played him at his own game, so not only does this have no emotional weight whatsoever, there’s also nothing even remotely at stake! Isn’t Moffat a genius?

I really wish the story had stuck with the Doctor and boy Davros because that was interesting. I even liked the idea of the Doctor giving up his sonic screwdriver due to his own guilt (although that’s later ruined thanks to the sonic sunglasses. Seriously?! Sonic fucking sunglasses?!?! Give me strength!), and had they left it with the Doctor abandoning boy Davros to his fate, it would have been fine. Instead Moffat had to take it one step further.

This whole scenario is clearly taking inspiration from the classic Who story Genesis Of The Daleks. Specifically a line uttered by Tom Baker’s Doctor during a pivotal moment of the story:

"If someone who knew the future pointed out a child to you and told you that that child would grow up totally evil, to be a ruthless dictator who would destroy millions of lives, could you then kill that child?"

Now if you haven’t already, I strongly urge you to watch Genesis Of The Daleks. It’s one of the best stories in the whole of Doctor Who (some even consider it to be the best) and every Whovian needs to watch it at least once. One of the many reasons why Genesis is so fondly remembered is because of the morally complex question at the centre. Terry Nation smartly chooses not to answer it, instead allowing the audience to come to their own conclusions. Steven Moffat, on the other hand, chooses to tackle the question head on. The Doctor is given the opportunity to exterminate boy Davros, but instead ends up saving him. But you see, by doing so, Moffat completely misses the point of Genesis Of The Daleks. It’s not about what the Doctor would or wouldn’t do. It’s about the question itself. Rather than expanding on the legacy of Genesis, Moffat ends up tarnishing it, sweeping all the moral complexity under the carpet and spoon-feeding us a neat and tidy answer. No of course the Doctor wouldn’t kill a child! Are you crazy? And all the millions of lives destroyed are very quickly brushed aside with some bullshit about mercy. Not only is it too simplistic, it also makes the Doctor come across like a complete hypocrite. While he’s busy trying to decide whether killing Davros is the right thing to do, he’s setting up the Daleks so that they can kill each other. Obviously this kind of manipulation is very much in character for the Doctor, but it’s ironic how he shows a lot of guilt and angst over a humanoid child, but doesn’t even so much as bat an eyelid at killing all the non-humanoid Daleks.

Let’s quickly talk about the Daleks. They always tend to suffer in Davros stories, and this is a perfect example of that. Yes we do get a lot of new info about the Daleks (most of which doesn’t make sense. Why dump old, decaying Daleks in the sewers? Why not just kill them? Isn’t that their usual MO? Obsession with purity and all that. And while the Dalek machine altering your speech sounds like a good idea and adds to the trapped and claustrophobic nature of the Daleks, it also completely contradicts what we already know about them. How did Ian Chesterton manage to have a conversation with the First Doctor, Barbara and Susan when he was in the Dalek machine?), but they’re also not in the slightest bit threatening, and that’s because nobody takes them seriously. You’ve got the Doctor whizzing around in Davros’ chair asking them if they want to play dodgems, you’ve got the Master back to her annoying, goofy self (the bitch is back? Moffat, may I remind you this is a kid’s show) undermining the Daleks’ authority at every turn. Add to that apparently it’s easy as fuck to cheat death thanks to the Master’s teleport and the TARDIS’ newfound superpowers, and the Daleks don’t really have a leg to stand on. If the show isn’t going to take them seriously, why the fuck should I?

Speaking of the Master, what are she and Clara even doing here? They contribute precisely nothing to the story at all. You could just cut them out of the story entirely and it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference. And why does the Master try and trick the Doctor into killing Clara? What’s the point? Didn’t she bring the Doctor and Clara together in the first place? And why did she even do that? That’s never been explained. I wasn’t kidding when I said Missy was basically Moriarty in a dress back in my review of Death In Heaven because they both share the exact same problems. With both Moriarty and the Master, Moffat is trying desperately to emulate this kind of Joker style madness, but there’s more to the Joker than just being insane. He actually has consistent motives and morals, with his insanity serving that. With the Master and Moriaty, Moffat seems to be using insanity as a way to excuse his own shitty writing. There’s no need to create a consistent character with clear goals or proper reasoning behind their actions because they’re insane. It’s just incredibly fucking lazy and it’s an utter waste of the Master. Neither she nor Clara have any kind of agenda of their own, hence why they feel so superfluous.

Finally there’s the series arc. Usually bad arcs from Moffat are to be expected, but this is the first time I’ve ever been truly worried by the direction he’s going in. It seems that Moffat is going back into Listen territory and trying to redefine the important building blocks of the show. So there’s a prophecy about something called the Hybrid and apparently that’s why the Doctor ran away from Gallifrey in the first place. Like with Listen, it seems Moffat is once again trampling over one of the most integral parts of the Doctor’s character. His mystery. We don’t really know who he is, where he comes from or precisely why he left Gallifrey all those years ago, and we shouldn’t know either. It’s like dissecting a frog. Yes you could cut it open and find out how the insides work, but then you’d just be left with a bloody mess on the table. I have no idea where Moffat is going with this Hybrid stuff, but it seems like we’re going down a very dangerous path indeed and after all the damage he’s already caused over the years, I’m deeply concerned about him potentially lifting up the bonnet and messing with the vital components of the show.

Overall The Magician’s Apprentice/The Witch’s Familiar is a pretty rubbish start to Series 9. Nonsensical plots, pointless padding, non-threatening villains, recycling of tired ideas and an attempt to expand on a classic Doctor Who story that ultimately misses the point by several galaxies.

#the witch's familiar #steven moffat #doctor who #twelfth doctor #peter capaldi #clara oswald #jenna coleman #the master #michelle gomez #davros #daleks #bbc #review #spoilers

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goffilolo · 7 years

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Demise of Midoriya Izuku (part 7)

I’m back! sorry it took so long to updat,e however ive seen very busy with school. also this chapter is over twice as long as usual, because its a very intense one, so it took me a very long time to write. hope you dont mind. The chapter is also posted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557743/chapters/28807050

“All I’m saying is, next time he comes over we grab a couple of those buckets, fill them with water and drown the bitch into submission!” exclaimed Izuku, while excitedly pointing to the empty buckets in the corridor that were left there by a janitor.

“Izuku, no, just no” said Mrs. Todoroki with the exhaustion of a person who has listened through a hundred and one plans on how to torture her husband.

“You never like any of my plans!” replied Izuku.

“Because they’re not plans, they’re random impulses of vandalism and violent behaviour” she continued “Besides, not that I don’t enjoy your company, but aren’t you supposed meet with piece of shit, or whatever his name was?”

“How did you-”

“It’s a small ward honey. The word gets round quickly” interrupted Mrs. Todoroki while looking pointedly at the four armed nurse, who was currently pretending to be busy writing something in her clipboard and holding the handles of Izuku’s wheelchair.

“Tch, typical” scoffed Izuku.

Now, going back to the topic, YES, he was going to meet ‘piece of shit’ today. The decision was made by his mother who had gone to the Bakugous’ house the previous day and told them about their son’s actions in hopes of resolving the situation (bless her soul) despite the strain it would inevitably put on their friendship. The adults have decided that the best thing to do would be to all go to the hospital and talk things out, to which Izuku’s initial reaction was “not today Satan”, but not much could be done on his side to avoid this trainwreck.

And here he was now, in the common room, killing time with some good old escapism; focusing on all the different ways to torture Mrs. Todoroki’s shitty husband, rather than the ticking clock on the wall above him, mocking him, playing the role of a countdown to the start of what he calls ‘The Bakugou-shitshow’. The sleep deprivation from his meds was definitely not helping.

This was going to be a long fucking day.

“So it’s starting soon, huh? The Bakugou-shitshow” said Shin as he seemingly materialized out of thin air, rubbing his hands in a mischievous manner.

“You’ve read my journal” replied the boy in a cold, flat tone that the doctor hated so much. Honestly, is there no such thing as privacy in this loony bin?

“And you’ve read my medical notes about your case, which may I remind you are for medical staff only” retaliated the doctor, his unwillingness to put up with Izuku’s shit at this point very apparent in his voice. He then turned to the nurse and motioned towards the handles of his patient’s wheelchair “Do you mind if I borrow this little gremlin for a second?”

“Fuck you!” interrupted Izuku.

“See? A little gremlin right here” sneered Shin.

He then grabbed the handles and wordlessly started to wheel Izuku out of the common room in the direction of his office as Mrs. Todoroki and the nurse waved them goodbye.

“So, you’re seeing Bakugou today, aren’t you?”

“Yep”

“Are you mentally ready for it?”

“Fuck no!”

“Thought so, which is why we’re going to have a little chat now” said the doctor as he reached their destination.

Once inside the confines of Shin’s office, the doctor has dropped his cheeky facade in favour of the more uncommon, nevertheless much needed; that of a professional.

“Tell me Izuku, how do you feel about meeting Bakugou?” asked Shin, hoping to go straight to the topic, but leaving the question open enough for his patient.

“I-it’s a lot of-” started Izuku, not yet knowing how to articulate all of the complex feelings swirling together in his psyche, into some sort of a coherent answer “-uugh!” he finished, voice full of helplessness, his posture speaking “I don’t know”, which is still more than he managed to say out loud.

“Okay, that’s...something” replied the doctor, a bit disappointed in the lack of coherent response.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, a lot. Honestly, I don’t know what to expect. He has way too much pride to apologise, although our parents will be there so he’ll probably try to behave more decent with them around. But even if he does apologise, do I want to hear it? Is it going to change anything?” asked Izuku, not expecting an answer.

“You know, my dream of being a hero is dead, and I’m alright with that. I felt like I was on a good path of making peace with myself about that fact, like one day I could look back on it and think fondly of it as in ‘oh, every kid wanted to be a hero and save people’ and not be bitter about it-” continued the boy, his fists clenched, the frustration in his voice growing every second, like a volcano, waiting to erupt “-but he ruined it for me” he spat, full of venom.

“In what way did he ruin it for you?” prompted the doctor.

“To me a hero was someone who could always save everyone, someone who could always make you feel relief upon their arrival no matter how bad the situation was. And Kacchan, he’s-he’s anything BUT that. Having to see him will just remind me of this dream, of all the heroic qualities I aspired for and couldn’t reach, and how someone like HIM, who only knows how to hurt others will be able to reach that dream and ruin it! HE WILL TAKE EVERYTHING IT TAKES TO BE A HERO AND RUIN IT!” screamed Izuku, breathing labored as he became overtaken by his frustration and helplessness.

The doctor did not grace Izuku’s outburst with much of a reaction beyond widening his eyes ever so slightly before looking back down to write some notes, already used to such behaviour on his patient’s part. It tells him a lot about the boy’s repressed rage, caused by what he suspects is a mix of admiration, envy and rather justifiable bitterness, which Izuku himself seems to be in denial of.

Speaking of, as the boy slowly regained his breath his face morphed into one full of fear rather than anger as he became aware of is surroundings, the laughing clock, and the inevitable Bakugou-shitshow that’s just around the corner.

“I-I, wh-what would I even say to him when I see him?!” asked Izuku, eyes full of panic.

“I think everything you said just now” replied Shin.

He then stood up from his chair and started to wheel Izuku out of his office, in the direction of his hospital room, the atmosphere between them clear from any traces of Izuku’s outburst.

“Do you want me to be in the room with you for moral support? Or do you want me to wait outside?”

“I think I want you to be there with me”

“That’s fine then. Let’s get this shitshow started”

“Hey! That’s my line”

Soon they have found themselves back in Izuku’s room, who was hoisted up back onto the bed with the help of one of the nurses, his leg elevated like when he first woke up. Shin was keeping himself busy in the corner by reading through Izuku’s hero notebooks, his face solemn, but eyes full of wonder. It was a face Izuku has never seen before, but he wasn’t going to ask about it now, not when the peace within the room was nothing more than a bubble, ready to burst any minute.

Just because he was expecting it did not mean he was prepared, so when the door opened Izuku’s attention was drawn instantly.

Izuku looked like shit, he knew that much. The bags under his eyes told the tales of sleepless nights spent on nothing but staring at the piles upon piles of notebooks, never to be read again. His hair was a mess, like a bird’s nest, nothing unusual, except it was longer, the extra length swirling at the sides, on his face; the proof on an inevitable passage of time. Has it really been a month?

Well, here goes nothing.

He looked like shit, and he wasn’t going to pretend any different. He didn’t know what to expect when Kacchan made an entrance, but it certainly wasn’t for his childhood friend tormentor’s face to mirror the misery he felt, instead of the usual scowl matched with the condescending look.

It made him somewhat angry.

A lot things made him angry recently.

Upon Kacchan’s entrance, Shin acknowledged his presence ever so briefly before going back to flipping through Izuku’s hero notes, volume 13 to be exact. If he didn’t know better Izuku would’ve thought that Shin was trying to rub it in Kacchan’s face.

He was soon followed in by his parents and last but not least, Izuku’s mother who quickly went and sat by Izuku’s side and held his hand to provide some motherly comfort.

The room was soon filled with a strangled silence, neither of the parties knowing what to say, not wanting to start this rollercoaster.

The problem was soon solved as Mrs. Bakugou elbowed her son roughly on the side “Don’t you have something to say, you little shit?” she whispered, her powerful voice making it loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Izuku was going to give it to Bakugou, he looked guilty enough, alright. Quite uncomfortable as well, reminding him of all the visits his homeroom teacher has paid him over the course of the last month. Since walking in he hasn’t looked at Izuku even once, instead trying to find something to focus on in his surroundings. It definitely wasn’t his smartest idea. As soon Bakugou focused on the volume 13, another reminder jabbing at his sides, he dared to trail his eyes up to the man holding it, and was quickly met with the coldest, most cruel look he has ever experienced, that physically makes him flinch.

‘Oh, so that’s what Shin meant when he said moral support’ thought Izuku.

Really, he almost felt bad for Kacchan. Almost.

“Oh, this better be good” said Izuku in spite of himself, with that dead flat tone, hoping it was going to have the same effect on Bakugou as it does on Shin and make this shitshow a bit more interesting.

It was enough to bring Bakugou’s attention back to Izuku, but before he could say anything he was beat to it by Izuku.

“Listen, whatever you’ve got to say, frankly I don’t want to hear it. I’m not letting this trainwreck become a sappy continuous wailing of ‘i’m sorry’s. I don’t care what issues you have with quirkless people, or with your own anger, that’s something for you to deal with yourself. If my forgiveness is just for you to soothe your bruised ego and lessen your guilt, then you sure as hell ain’t getting it!” said Izuku, his tone cold, but harsh; harsher than what he was originally going for, but it seemed to work just fine given that Bakugou looked taken aback by the spiteful attitude displayed by his childhood friend, if he could even still be called that.

“But that’s not what you’re really here for, is it?” continued Izuku, this time more collected, as he slowly turned in the direction of Bakugou’s parents putting on the most obnoxiously fake smile he could muster.

“Kacchan’s quite great isn’t he? So smart, so athletic, and a strong quirk to boot it all, a hero material no matter how you look at it” said Izuku in faux admiration as he listed off Bakugou’s good qualities, as if he wasn’t in the room, having heard those complements one too many times “He’ll surely get into UA without a problem, unless…” he trailed off, pretending to be deep in thought “...unless all the bullying he’s done ends up in his record. After all, no school would accept someone who encouraged their classmate to attempt suicide, and his chances of getting into UA and becoming a hero will be as good as gone. Wouldn’t that be awful?” he finished, voice coated with fake worry.

“So that’s what you want, take a fucking revenge on me, huh?! FINE, HAVE AT IT THEN! I SURE HELL DESERVE IT DON’T I?!” screamed Bakugou, in what most would perceive as his usual angry manner, but Izuku knew there was more to it. Rather than anger it came across as more of a panic. Ah yes, panicked but not surprised. So even the ‘oh so great’ Bakugou knew he had it coming, thought Izuku. Now, THIS was fun.

“You do. And I’m really tempted to get my revenge, but I won’t” stated Izuku.

“Why not? Where’s the catch?” asked Bakugou, getting slightly suspicious.

“Because becoming a hero was always your dream, just as it has been mine and I don’t make it a habit of destroying people’s dreams-” answered Izuku in a slightly more neutral tone, preparing to deliver the ultimate blow “-I’m not YOU” he finished, gathering all of his viciousness into this one, final word.

That seemed to do it, Bakugou looked outright ashamed, having lost all of his desire to argue. Pretty close to crying as well, if the trembling lip and twitch in his eye was anything to go by.

“Just so you know, I’m not letting you off the hook, you should fully appreciate the feeling of guilt you know? It’s the only proof that you’re not a total scumbag if you’re feeling any remorse for your actions. So how about this? Why don’t you repeat what you said to me that day, right here, in front of your parents, my mum, my psychiatrist?” teased Izuku, feeling brave all of a sudden. It was the first time since he met Bakugou, where he was the one in control. He could kind of understand why Bakugou was such an ass all the time if this was the feeling that went with it. And to think he literally had to brush against death to get to this point. He better be careful.

“Fuck no!” shouted Bakugou. He was getting annoyed, but also slightly scared if he was being honest with himself. ‘Deku’ that he knew would never behave like that, he held no sadistic streak, no guts to try and challenge him in such way. And this one, this one was unpredictable, so angry, so vicious in the most passive-aggressive way. Is this what was left of Izuku once he snapped and fell? For all he knew, the Midoriya Izuku that he knew all his life was already dead.

“Oh, you’re not fun!” complained Izuku. “Alright, how about I help you, yeah? C’mon, let’s say it together!” explained the boy as he started moving his hands like a band director in Bakugou’s direction, as if trying to get him to sing his part of the song.

Inko grabbed one of her son’s arms, trying to talk some sense into him “Izuku, don’t you think that’s enough?” she said, while Bakugou looked at her with some sort of hope in his eyes.

“Nope, if anything I think Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou deserve to hear it for themselves, they deserve to know what their son is capable of” he stated and turned back to Bakugou.

“Alright then, let’s say it at three, okay? One...two...three…”

“If you believe they’re holding your quirk over in the next world you should just dive off the rooftop” the boys said in unison; Izuku in an overly cheerful voice, Bakugou in a flat, resigned tone as he kept his eyes down, staring at the floor, not being able to bear the scandalised look on his parents’ faces.

He was now crying, still refusing to look up.

“Now that that’s done, let’s get back to business. As I said, I won’t come forward and tarnish Kacchan’s report, although I do expect some sort of compensation, after all my medical bills won’t pay themselves. But that shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” said Izuku, as he addressed Kacchan’s parents. Really, it’s the least they could do, especially since it wasn’t exactly a secret that his mother wasn’t doing doing so well financially, the monthly payments sent by his father only being able to cover so much.

The Bakugou couple nodded quickly as they made their way towards their son in an effort to comfort him.

“Oh, and Kacchan?” said Izuku as he addressed the distressed boy, this time more soft, more sincere. He quickly turned to Shin, who stayed the entire time, quietly watching the situation unfold. He gave Izuku a quick nod and a little smile to encourage him.

Bakugou who was now engulfed in his parents’ embrace looked over uncertainly.

“Ever since I was little I looked up to All Might, the number one hero who could save everyone with a smile on his face. He became my ideal, my goal, something to aspire for, my definition of heroism” Izuku said solemnly, the feeling of nostalgia creeping up on him “I’m still bitter about having to give up on my dream, not because I’m lamenting about the unfairness of being born quirkless, but because I live with knowledge that someone like you; for as strong as you are, you’re equally self-centered, unbothered by well-being of others, only caring about fighting, will be able to become a hero and contradict everything it always meant to be one. Congratulations Katsuki, you’ve ruined it for me” said Izuku, the feeling of Kacchan’s full name on is tongue uncanny, but fitting the current situation.

“So when you walk out of this room, I want you to work your ass off till the brink of exhaustion, until you become the number one hero and rub it in my face, so that I won’t feel bad about loosing my dream, knowing that it’s been tainted by you” said Izuku, his eyes filled with determination “You’ve already ruined so many things, so why not go all the way?”

Bakugou, who seemed to regain some of the usually present fire in his eyes was quick to reply “FUCK YOU DEKU, I don’t need you telling me what to do. I’m gonna become number one, regardless of what you say!”

“That’s what I wanted to hear”

#demise!au #bnha #boku no hero academia #fanfic #demise of midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki

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moviesaboutdrunks · 7 years

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28 Days

Film: 28 Days, 2000, Dir. Betty Thomas.

You might remember them from such films as this one: Sandra Bullock, Viggo Mortensen, Steve Buscemi, that girl from season 7 of Buffy who knew she was going to die.

Reason for watching: Suggested by Netflix.

Let me get a couple of things out of the way: I love Netflix (seriously, is it not the best?), and I am not an AA drunk. I mean zero disrespect to the people the program works for, but that ain’t me, and you’re not gonna stay sober with something that doesn’t work. I use a different set of resources, and they’re doing the job for me so far.

I also didn’t dry out at a 28 day rehab center. Whether that’s because we don’t really do that in my country (unless you’re paying through the nose for it), or because nobody made me dry out but me I don’t totally know. I didn’t bother to investigate how everybody else was getting clean in my 'burg, I just did what I was doing. I would have liked to go to Promises, Malibu, but I am not rich or American enough, and what I got is working fine.

With those qualifications made, you should also know that I can still get down with an AA rehab movie (which is a good thing, because if you’re looking for movies about drunks getting sober, AA is going to feature. AA is huge, it’s worldwide, and it’s what most people think of when they think of recovery). This is an AA rehab movie. That is why it is called 28 Days. There is also chanting, the serenity prayer, and “it works if you work it.”

The star of the show is Gwen, played by Sandra Bullock, who is a hard-partying writer. She parties so hard she ruins her sister’s wedding, crashes her sister’s wedding limousine into someone’s house, and gets sent to rehab instead of jail. At first she thinks it’s totally naff, then she comes around and decides to get sober. Obstacles to her sobriety are (duh) how much it sucks to be sober, (also duh) her horrible childhood, and her boyfriend (Dominic West), who doesn’t think she has a problem and helps approximately zero percent by bringing her drugs and booze and refusing to recognize her desire for a full-on lifestyle change.

This isn’t a very original plot, obviously, but I didn’t care about that. I was in the mood for an emotional kinda-weepie (good work, Netflix), and that’s what this was. There are some very emotional moments, at which I had emotions, and some funny bits, at which I laughed. There’s a bit of artfulness to it - Loudon Wainwright’s songs are diagetic, and he appears as a rehab inmate playing them (do you say inmate? Some people probably do). The overhead announcements that bookend several scenes are particularly funny (”Don’t miss Tonight’s Lecture: Is God an Alcoholic?”; “Tonight’s Lecture: Why it’s a bad idea to celebrate sobriety by getting drunk.”) I loved the inclusion of equine therapy, and I cried real tears over Gwen’s sad flashbacks, her making up with her sister, and (spoiler alert) the really tragic death of her poor young roommate (jesus, what else was this poor girl gonna do but die? She was so young, and had nowhere to go). I couldn’t have cared less about the love story between Gwen and Viggo, but then neither did the movie because it never came to fruition, and I feel like things were better for that. Gwen ends up with no mans, and that is okay. She can do it alone now, precisely because she’s learned how to ask for help. Great stuff. Lotta feelings.

The depiction of withdrawal is pretty minimal. Gwen has a night of shivery puking, and a few days of shaking hands, but besides that she’s good, if miserable (and hugely anxious). I wondered if this was intended to suggest that Gwen was an intermittent binge drinker rather than a constant heavy drinker, but I guess it’s also possible they just didn’t want to show the extreme grossness of what withdrawal is really like (i.e., it is longer, and has more disgusting sweating and runny pooping). I also assume, like most AA movies, they like to stick to the Betty Ford model, in which addicts (Gwen also used opiates, and I assume coke and other party drugs) are not allowed any drugs of any kind, not even painkillers for an injury, or benzodiazepines to help you not literally shit out your insides or have a seizure and die.

This is pretty typical in what I see depicted of quitting and recovering drunks in movies like this; supervised white-knuckling. It has always stuck me as a little bit odd in relation to the disease model (which I’ve never totally bought, but it is the model that’s cited in these filmic contexts where someone is sent to rehab instead of jail - and it’s referred to here specifically: guidance counsellor Steve Buscemi gives Gwen a pile of books and says “here’s some information about your disease”). I guess, actually, that this is one part of why I’ve never really gelled with AA-related rehab programs, or at least struggled to see how the logic all hangs together - if we’re medically, physiologically powerless over being an addict, as they say we are, what’s wrong with helping us break our physical dependencies as comfortably as possible, in order to cushion us for the serious work ahead? Do we really believe that some individuals are just so hardwired to get high that they can’t even be trusted to take any drugs ever, even under the supervision of a doctor, even for the purpose they are prescribed? I guess the supervision is there in case something went severely wrong though. And they must sometimes dry people out before they send them to rehab - movies aren’t documentaries - surely they must, or people would periodically drop dead in group.

There’s an element of moralism to it though, and you know there is; just as the addict must now become humble and scrub toilets (also the Betty Ford model - and Gwen does it on crutches, since she’s sprained her ankle leaping out of a window for some spilled vicodin), she must face her long night of physical and emotional hell. She must go through the twelve trials (see what I did there?) to realize what a piece of human shit she has been, and fully, physically experience her pukey rock bottom before she can begin to rebuild. The depiction of white-knuckling is twofold; it’s speaking truncated film-language to cram the physical horror of the quitting process into a shorter length of time, and it reflects some of what people generally think about addicts, even if they’re singing in the helpless-to-a-disease chorus - we need to be punished for our lack of self-control. We need to suffer to learn our lesson. In these movies, suffering through withdrawal as harshly as possible is presented as the best possible grounding for the coming psychological labour, almost as if we can’t be trusted to believe we want it if we don’t “earn it”. I don’t particularly object to suffering. I’ve never believed I am powerless over my alcoholism, or that alcoholism is a disease I was born with and will always have, or that the demon drink is the thing that makes me a shit person when I’m way too drunk. I believe I had (or have) a maladaptive coping mechanism that propped itself up with a chemical dependency, and that that’s a problem, but it’s one that’s sort of unrelated to my being human trash (or rather, it’s related in that I can use it as an excuse to not deal with being human trash, and also it doesn’t exactly help me avoid making human trash style decisions, but it’s not the source of the issue). I don’t mind suffering for my alcoholic sins (if I have any that are purely alcoholic), and I’ve got no problem with the idea that people might want me to either (that’s their problem). I’m just pointing out the philosophical complexity in the moralism here. We’re powerless, in this model, but it’s also our fault we haven’t powerfully accepted being powerless. Side note: also interesting is the moralism as attached to various drugs and how that’s changed over time. When I quit, Nicotine Dependence was listed on my hospital form as something else I had a problem with (I ignored this, because fuck you I’m not quitting smoking and drinking at the same goddamned time). Here, in this film, which was made 17 years ago, everyone smokes like chimneys. But they’re not allowed caffeinated coffee, because it’s mood altering. Smoking used to be a lot more value-neutral than it is these days, I guess.

The just-before-ending climax of the film, as I said, is Gwen realizing and saying aloud that she needs to ask for help, and then saying to herself as she finally manages to convince a horse to lift its hoof (something she was never able to do during equine therapy), that she can control the small things, but then she just has to let go. This is literally a repetition of core AA philosophies, but it isn’t necessarily wrong, either in general or for Gwen. It’s also pretty moving. And given that I’m a non-AAer who can still get down with the genre, I can find my own commonality in it: I don’t necessarily believe I wasn’t in control of the fact that I ended up an alcoholic, but what I will say is that I used it to feel like I was in control of my life. What gold-plated bullshit that was. You can’t drive where you want to go when you’re hammered 24/7. You’ll just wind up crashing a limousine into a house.

#alcoholism #28 days #sobriety #recovery

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scientia-rex · 8 years

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I'm in this streak, lately, where I don't have anything. I don't have money, I don't have time, I don't have friends I see or talk to. My marriage is, as it has tended to be, strained.

I'm at this point where it's been more than two and a half years since I saw a doctor or a dentist. I need both. I don't see a chance to take care of that for another year and a half. I don't see more money on the horizon. I no longer have any monetary reserve--I'm just chasing bills, living hand to mouth, trying to make sure we can pay for rent and groceries even if that means letting other bills slide. I was raised to see paying the bills as a moral imperative, so this has been both humiliating and guilt-inducing for me. I haven't bought new clothes in at least a year. I'm wearing my shoes completely out. I'm living in a cheap studio with shitty loud neighbors. I can't afford to go see a movie, or go on a trip, or go to a restaurant, even a cheap one. Whenever I talk about this, someone inevitably feels the urge to lecture me about budgeting, as if budgeting could make money appear out of nowhere.

And the hits don't stop coming, because this is medical school. I spend a day talking to children so severely mentally ill they have been institutionalized for months, even years, for their safety and the safety of others. Children who have been beaten, raped, abandoned, neglected, abused, and now are living in a concrete building made to look like a parody of a real house. There are common areas with televisions, but they're glassed in with Plexiglass so nobody can break them. There are quiet rooms. When I ask why they aren't padded, I learn that padding just seemed to create more problems--nobody's ever given themselves a concussion headbanging on the walls, but kids have made themselves sick eating the padding. The youngest child we talk to is seven. She's made at least ten attempts to run. She does a decent job of holding it together while she talks to all of us, the whole group of visiting medical students, but there is a clear edge of panic by the end.

This place is a safe harbor. As safe as it gets.

Because this is med school, I get to listen to an attending say that he knows "people who thought they were bisexual, and then got married and stuck with that sexual orientation." I sit up in my chair, ready to start talking, feeling my face getting hot in the particular way it does when I'm getting ready to do something that is going to end up fucking me over. But he keeps talking, there isn't a chance to break into the disorganized stream of words, and by the time he's done talking we have to go to the next segment of the day. I swallow down the rage. Later mention it to another student. A classmate jumps in to proudly say that she has lots of bisexual and pansexual friends. I stare at her in uncomprehending rage: why the fuck are you taking this moment and making it about you? Why are you doing that? I don’t say anything to her about it. I don’t want a fight.

I get warned about moving to the side of the corridor is a patient-prisoner-patient is being transported in shackles. "Shackles are policy," says the guide, "it doesn't mean anything about what their level of risk is." I don't see anyone in shackles at the institution, but the next day, back at my own hospital downtown, I'm sitting in the hall waiting for my attending and resident, and a patient gets ushered past me: in shackles, clanking and dragging, like something right out of a medieval play.

It's not that none of our patients are dangerous. I go to stand closer to the bed of a patient who was transferred to our service from the psych ICU, and my resident puts a very firm hand on my arm. He never touches me, and it takes me completely aback. I freeze. He glances up at me from his chair, and gives me a meaningful look. He's not annoyed with me, but he isn't going to let me get within hitting distance. My attending, meanwhile, has perched next to the bed and is calmly talking to a patient who never responds. Virtually everyone who transfers from that service is labeled "assaultive."

It's not even that none of them have been dangerous to me. The head-banging patient from the first day could easily have hurt me without even meaning to. The low-IQ patient with persistent hallucinations (she reports them, at any rate; I don't know if they're real, or another part of her complex behavioral cries for attention, help, care) has made comments about wanting to hurt "the people around her" when I am very obviously the people around her.

It's that I don't feel like I'm in danger. I don't wear my scarf in to the unit because I can hear my dad's voice clear as a bell in my ear, never wear something they can choke you with. My mom used to work with psych patients, traumatized war veterans; one threatened her badly, and I think that was when she decided to quit. Any time I wore a necklace on a date--Dad was always more worried about men I dated than he was about stranger-danger. Sensible.

It's that I don't care if I'm in danger. No one will fight me. I'm supposed to be a responsible adult at this point in my life. I'm thirty-two. I'm supposed to be done wanting to get into fist-fights. I'm a medical student. I'm supposed to be done wanting to die.

And I'm less suicidal, in some ways, than I have been in a long time. I have a whole essay in my on this, percolating. The way that you realize, on an inpatient psych ward, that it doesn't matter whether staying alive meets some criteria for logic or rationality; we just do it. We do it compulsively, we do it because we can't do anything else. Actual suicide attempts are rare, and the ratio of attempts to completions is something like 30:1. The attempts are, at least the ones I've seen and read about and heard about, made in moments of severe, profound despair. If the moment can be endured, there is no suicide. This is one of the core teachings of DBT, dialectical behavior therapy, which is probably the best therapy for people with borderline personality disorder. Distress tolerance. Learning tactics to make it through that moment, the moment where the distress is so intense that death seems preferable.

I'm finally done, in some fundamental way I never was before, with the whole concept of eugenics. I was raised by parents who believed openly and strongly in the concept of eugenics. They would have been horrified at the explicit suggestion that it be used to breed out Jewishness or blackness, but if I had a nickel for every time my parents said "You ought to need a license to breed" or "Birth control should be in the water, and you should have to pass an intelligence test to get the antidote," or something else along those lines, I'd be able to afford a fucking doctor now. Being on inpatient psych, I'm not kidding: you can't think like that. There are all of these arguments about how various people could still be useful, somehow, that we need the diversity because who knows what skills can suddenly emerge, like Temple Grandin single-handedly reshaping the cattle industry.

You can't look at my low-IQ patient and think that way. She's never going to be a productive, contributing member of society. She's dangerous. She is exactly the kind of patient that would be eradicated by any kind of eugenics program. I would kill you if you tried to put her down like a dog. She's still human. She greets me in the morning, happy and smiling like a child, childishly dismayed some days when she's having GI side effects from the medications we're using to try to suppress the command auditory hallucinations that tell her to die and to kill. She is not going to be a wise elder, there is no tribal scenario where she serves a function. She doesn't have to, to deserve to live. She is a goddamned human being. I don't ever want to hear again in my life any statements about how we should keep people like her from existing.

I'm done with the state taking on killing as a function. I'm done with government having the power to commit murder.

"How have you been coping?" asked the chief resident at the training on Friday. I didn't say out loud, I'm not. Drinking and crying don't count.

This is a hard rotation in different ways than the other rotations have been hard, but I'm a better person because of it. It's making me better. This year is fire that's been steadily burning away the weakest parts of me. This year has been about clarity.

God, I wish I could do it with more money. But this year has been a hybrid of unnecessary torture and unbelievable gift.

#med school dead school

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victorineb · 8 years

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Fic Recs Mega Post

A little weekend reccing for any fannibals in need of a good read, this time we’ve got catmen, daemons and a goblin king... and that’s just for starters!

No Man’s Land by @empathalitis and @cannibalcuisine: Following a drunken, clumsy encounter with Hannibal… and Hannibal's lips, and Hannibal’s hands (depicted in previous instalment In My Head There's A War), Will finally has to confront his desire for the man he's run away with. But, well, it's Will and Hannibal, which means things are never going to be straightforward and between memories of ex-wives and a total lack of emotional intelligence, both men continue to tie themselves in knots rather than getting down to business. This wonderful fic skilfully flows between Will and Hannibal’s POVs, with an amazing handle on both characters and their emotions. And when that dam finally bursts? Well, let’s just say it is very, very much worth the wait!

Stray Cat by Not_You: Taking the “Hannibal is really a cat” theory to its logical conclusion, this AU finds Will working not for the FBI but for the government division that oversees the rights and management of human/animal hybrids. Some of these beings live as pets, others as humans, still others as part of the “Feral Nation” which operates outside of human society. And then there are Will’s worst nightmare, those who are kept in labs and cruelly experimented on. Hannibal is one such case, a human/cat hybrid placed into Will’s custody after escaping and murdering those who kept him in captivity. For a dog person, Will quickly grows attached to this fiercely intelligent, oddly endearing catman (and Hannibal, as usual, cares for no one but Will) but there are many, many hoops for them to jump through before going too far down that road… This is just a stunningly assured piece of writing – the worldbuilding is smart and intricate, Hannibal’s catlike characterisation is perfect and canon elements are woven in with care and intelligence.

Housewarming by @wrathofthestag (Mwuahna): In this latest part of the utterly wonderful, adorable Giving Themselves series (in which Will and Hannibal started dating after the Tobias Budge Incident™), the boys are moving in together. And a milestone in Hannibal Lecter’s life can mean only one thing: a big, fancy party (much to his dear Will’s horror). Invites are sent. Caterers are hired. Booze is stockpiled (well, Will and Bedelia will be in attendance). And shenanigans, inevitably, ensue. Not least of all when Will’s father shows up to set the cat amongst the pigeons (and to flirt with every female in sight). I love and adore this series with all my heart, and this latest part is no exception. It has everything: drunken hook-ups, Will and Bedelia bitching at each other, Mrs Komeda being fabulous, Will getting a handful of the Hannibooty, Jimmy Price saying words… it is, in other words, utterly glorious and I must insist that you read it. Now. Go!

The Vessel by @weconqueratdawn: Ok, I admit, I went into this assuming it was going to be an entertainingly kinky Hannigram romp (c’mon, the tags include “Coming Untouched,” “Threesome,” and “Wendigo porn” XD). And while plenty of kinks do get an airing, this is a much deeper and more complex fic than I had imagined, with an intense storyline exploring religious corruption, sexual slavery and the power of knowledge. Will is the Vessel of the title, a slave elevated to a sacred position within his society’s religion – which means that he suffers and bleeds for their sins, as well as being drugged and used as part of a sexual ritual by the holy men of his temple, including its Father, Jack (yep, there’s a bit of Jack/Will here!). Conditioned from his childhood to believe that he is performing a vital service for his community, doubts begin to creep into Will’s mind when Hannibal is installed as the temple’s new seer. This is an example of a brilliant writer taking elements of our beloved show and using them to create something fresh, intelligent and insightful, while always remaining completely true to the characters. It’s immensely impressive stuff that will linger in the reader’s mind long after the last chapter.

Labyrinth by @llewcie: Labyrinth was one of my favourite movies when I was a kid. Hell, it’s still one of my favourite movies – the amazing songs, the adorable characters… trying to figure out which is bigger, Bowie’s hair or his codpiece… So a Hannigram take on the 80s classic was pretty much guaranteed to appeal, and this fic does not disappoint! Will Graham wakes from a six-month coma to find that his father is dead and nobody seems to remember he has a sister, Abigail. Well, no one except the strange, alluring man sitting at his bedside – who claims to be the goblin king and that Will must defeat his labyrinth in order to get his sister back. The genius of this crossover AU is that, instead of a simple retread with the Hannibal characters standing in for those from the movie, Llew carefully redesigns the ‘verse to reflect Will and Hannibal. Which means we get a labyrinth that is much more dangerous and threatening, a “hero” who is long on sass and short on patience, and a “villain” whose intentions and morality are far more complex than they first appear. Oh, and a boatload of mutual flirtation, of course.

Quicksilver (series) by @weconqueratdawn with artwork by @theseavoices: I know, I know, I’m horribly late to the party here. This is just one of those series that I’ve been saving for special, but having been told off for my reticence by some fellow fannibals, I mainlined the whole series in a oner. And damn, it is as good as everyone says it is. In this AU, Will is a nineteen year old psychology student, who requests a meeting with Hannibal to discuss some coursework. Hannibal, impressed by the boy’s proposal, agrees to the meeting, little knowing that he will soon be utterly, irrevocably, life-alteringly besotted by the beautiful, confident, gender-fluid student who turns up at his office. Accompanied by some jaw-droppingly gorgeous artwork by theseavoices, this is an utter gem, a thing of beauty, featuring one of my all-time favourite versions of Will, who is sharp, sexy and empowered in these stories and a total joy to read. Don’t be like me and put off reading these – get over to ao3 and devour them now!

En Garde! by @artbyvictoriaskye (VictoriaSkyeMasters): VSM ends up on these lists pretty much every time she writes something new because she is a complete genius of AUs and rare pairs. Her latest is an absolute scream, taking the logical step of pairing Mads!Rochefort with Hugh!D’Artagnan in a brilliant funny, deeply sexy romp involving horse thievery, secretly soft villains and an impressive amount of spanking. It begins with a typically hot-heated, self-absorbed, vainglorious D’Artagnan once again search of adventure after his famous adventures with the Three Musketeers… and managing only to head back to the little village he had abandoned in search of glory. Where he makes the terrible mistake of splashing a certain eye-patched villain with mud and not apologising for it. And we all know what happens when you’re rude to a Mads… D’Artagnan soon finds himself a captive of the fearsome Rochefort but, as it turns out, he might not mind it all that much. This is easily one of my favourite fics ever, one I know I’ll be returning to over and over again.

Sweet Sanatorium by @thewanderingcannibal (wanderlust96): Sometime in the 1930s, a teenage Will Graham is institutionalised at his father’s request – partly for his sexuality (at a point in time when being gay could get you locked up) and partly for his uncanny empathy. Fortunately for Will, his new doctor finds these aspects of his character extremely appealing and Will soon finds himself under Doctor Lecter’s wing (not to mention, consensually, between his legs). Unfortunately for Will, though, not everybody’s happy about Hannibal taking favourites… One of the interesting things about Hannigram is that, by any measure of logic or reason, being with Hannibal Lecter is a terrible, awful, no-good decision. Except that, if you’re Will Graham, he might also be the person who can best love, protect and cherish you. And this AU hits that duality right on the button. It also contains a pleasing amount of murder and mayhem, so everything you could want in your Hannigram!

Tevelis by @shiphitsthefan: Ok, daddy kink is not my favourite. It’s not that I actively avoid it but I don’t go out of my way to find it either. And it certainly takes something special to make me truly enjoy it. So take this as the huge recommendation it is meant to be: I LOVED this fic. Post-fall, Will and Hannibal are playing a game. Their usual game, aka: “Hannibal is a cryptic bastard and Will can’t let him win.” Except this time, the stakes are even higher than murder and entrapment – this time, the boys have been discussing kinks, and Will’s tired of waiting for Hannibal to give. So he kidnaps a third party, one with empathic powers to match his own and, in something of a deviation from the usual Murder Husband M.O., doesn’t kill him. Instead, he uses him to finally find that one little word to light Hannibal’s fire... Daddy kink is definitely the marquee attraction here but it’s far from just a hook to entice readers. The kink is written with imagination, inventiveness and insight, used as a means of exploring Will and Hannibal’s dynamic as it develops into (somehow!) something even deeper and more intimate than it was before.

Hold for Release by @sunshinexlollipops (cloudsarefluffy): In this AU, omega Will Graham doesn’t use his empathy to consult for the FBI and BAU Chief Jack Crawford. Instead, he uses it to write for the Virginia Tribune and editor-in-chief Jack Crawford. This does not mean that he isn’t obsessed with the Chesapeake Ripper. Indeed, the nigh-on admiring tone of his articles about the serial killer is putting his job at risk. So being a sensible man who easily lets things go, Will starts a new story about… ha ha, no, of course not. Will, being an idiot who can’t leave well alone, takes his heat leave and his stored up vacation and (with a little help from Chilton being his usual idiotic self) winds up on the doorstep of one Dr Hannibal Lecter, an alpha who turns out to be quite a fan of Will’s journalism… especially his very flattering articles about the Ripper. I love and adore journalism AUs and the fact that this is an omegaverse version just makes it even more entertaining. Nothing is ever quite what it seems in this intricate and intelligent fic, with Will and Hannibal running rings round each other and thoroughly enjoying the process.

Turn the Page by @disraeligearsgoestumblin (DisraeliGears): I have a bone to pick with this fic – upon heading to bed one night I needed a new fic to read, and thought I’d get started on this. Cue me, still up at 4am, utterly unable to even think about sleeping until I finished this masterpiece. @disraeligearsgoestumblin, I entirely blame you for my inability to concentrate the following day! In this canon-divergent AU, instead of marrying Molly after Hannibal is imprisoned, Will sells everything, buys a motorbike and starts driving… and doesn’t stop for a good couple of years. Not until he, in quick succession, realises he wants Hannibal back, gets majestically drunk, and essentially gets adopted by a middle-aged Mexican woman who puts him to work in her bar. This beautifully atmospheric piece takes Will on a very different voyage of discovery than in canon, one in which, without the distraction of his ready-made family, Will has to confront the truth about himself and his feelings for Hannibal with rather more honesty. And the results are… interesting, to say the least… especially when a familiar face turns up at the bar…

One Way Out Of Many by @hellotailor and @nakamasmile: I cannot possibly describe to you the depth of my love for Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series of novels – I utterly, utterly adore them. So reading this Hannigram crossover AU was a complete delight, especially given the lovely, inventive divergence it takes from canon. Set in s1, just as the symptoms of Will’s encephalitis are growing truly disturbing, Hannibal’s daemon (Daiva, who takes the form of a stoat) decides that Will and his daemon (Poppy, a crow) belong to her and Hannibal. So she sabotages Hannibal’s conspiracy with Sutcliffe, ensures that Will gets the treatment he needs and persuades Hannibal onto a new path: to ensnare Will via care and affection. The addition of daemons to the Hannibal ‘verse makes for a fascinating new perspective on the characters and their relationships. And, most pleasingly, both Poppy and Daiva are utterly fascinating creations in their own right, often getting sections written from their own POVs and given agency and agendas of their own.

A Companionable Silence by @hotsauce418: One Eye has been alone for a long time, believing it to be for the best and not seeing much chance for change anyway. Until the alpha rescues a young omega named Charmont from a cage and finds himself growing irrevocably attached to the fierce, spirited young man to whom he lends his protection. Raised as royalty, and an alpha besides, Char has serious issues of his own to work through, but living in close proximity makes it hard for either man to ignore their growing attraction, and when Char’s first heat hits, well… Soft alpha One Eye and sassy omega Char is surely one of the greatest madancy pairings yet – they’re a beautiful example of that contrasting yet complimentary dynamic that makes the rare pairs phenomenon so compelling. And hotty writes them with such obvious affection and care, it’s an absolute treat to observe. Valhalla Enchanted is a thing of beauty and you should all treat yourselves by reading this!

An Unorthodox Dinner by @ratbagqueen: This writer’s one and only Hannibal fic and it’s so damn good, I can only pray they’ll bestow another on us someday! Set post-season 2, Will is recovering from the events of Mizumono (and trying to figure out just why the hell he seems to be missing the man who gutted him), when he receives an invitation in a familiar, elegant hand. Hannibal, it seems, is still in Baltimore, somehow, and still has designs on having Will for dinner. Both more and less literally than Will fears… I rushed straight through this fic, utterly hooked by the slowly building tension between our boys. Both characters are beautifully rendered and the writing is pleasingly redolent of that sinister-yet-intimate tone of the best Hannigram scenes. Although I must warn you: anybody who has issues with seafood might want to steer clear!

As ever and always, if I’ve mistagged anyone or there are bad links, please let me know and I’ll fix them lickety-split. Until next time, lovely fannibals <3

#fic rec mega post #hannibal fic rec #rare pairs fic rec #hannibal #hannigram #rare pairs #murder husbands #hannigram au #hannibal au #madancy au

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the-desolated-quill · 7 years

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Cold Blood - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Did I mention how much I don’t like Chris Chibnall as a writer and how I really, really didn’t want him to write a Silurian story? I’m sure I did.

‘But Quill,’ I can hear you saying in my head, ‘it’s not that bad. The only reason you’re being so negative about it is because you’re comparing it to the original. Why not judge it on its own merits?’ Well first of all, it’s impossible not to compare this to the original because Chibnall is trying so desperately to emulate it (and failing miserably), and second, even by its own merits, it’s still shit.

The reason why the original Silurian/human debate worked so well was because there was no clear right or wrong answer. Both sides had a point and neither side was presented as being 100% good or evil. It was complex, nuanced and thus interesting. The debate in Cold Blood however is so cack handed and so extreme that it’s impossible to be invested in this at all.

Let’s start with the Silurian side of the debate. You have Restac, a character who’s even more boring and one note than her twin sister Alaya (i didn’t even think that was possible). Her solution to every problem is to kill all the humans. A mysterious drill from the surface is detected. Kill the humans. The perimeter has been breached. Kill the humans. You lose your car keys. Kill the humans. She never considers the possibility that this is all one giant misunderstanding. Nor is there ever an explanation for why she hates humans so much. She’s just a dull cardboard cutout foaming at the mouth.

Then there’s Eldane, played by Stephen Moore. The leader of the Silurians and who is so insanely nice to the point where it almost starts to become comical. Even when Rory, Ambrose and Tony show up carrying Alaya’s corpse, and Ambrose threatens to kill all the Silurians with the drill, Eldane still tries to help the Doctor and everyone escape at the end even by going so far as to gas his own people. What the fuck?! You could probably sit there quoting excerpts from Mein Kampf whilst jetting heroin into your eyes and defacing a library book in front of him and he’d still insist that peace could be brokered between our species.

Finally there’s the Silurian scientist Malohkeh, played by Richard Hope, who is by far the most confusing character. In this episode they go out of their way to present him as this cuddly, reasonable person who abhors violence and confrontation, but in the previous episode he was the one torturing Mo and Amy and threatening to dissect them. Talk about inconsistent.

The humans are just as bad. Tony, Ambrose’s dad played by Robert Pugh, was poisoned in the previous episode and is slowly dying, so he secretly offers to let Alaya go in exchange for a cure. Now this could be interesting. Deceit, backstabbing, survival at all costs etc. Except it’s never brought up again and even at the end he’s still treated as one of the good guys. What?! It gets even weirder when he chastises Ambrose for killing Alaya as though he’s the moral authority when a few scenes earlier he was prepared to sell out his own grandson in exchange for his own miserable life, the conniving bastard.

Ambrose too, played by Nia Roberts, is just plain daft. She’s desperate to save her son and dad (and husband Mo, although she keeps forgetting to mention him. Bad writing or a sign of marital problems? I’ll let you decide... but the answer is bad writing), and threatens to torture Alaya for information. Three problems with this. One, it’s already been established that Alaya isn’t going to talk, so torture is pointless. Two, she already knows the Doctor has gone underground to negotiate an exchange of hostages, so if she just sits patiently and doesn’t interfere, everything will be fine. And three, there’s no buildup to this whatsoever. She’s not suitably desperate enough to resort to such drastic action. All that’s happened is that Alaya has taunted her a bit and now all of a sudden she’s a cold blooded murderer. This isn’t subtle character shading. This is just picking random scenarios out of a hat.

And then there’s the Doctor, who is quite possibly the biggest idiot of the bunch. He insists that a peace can be brokered and that despite all their atrocities and crimes and violent actions, humans are still nice, kind, lovely people that the Silurians can totes be bezzy mates with. Where the Doctor is getting this idea from I don’t know considering this is the fourth time he’s tried to get the humans and the Silurians to play nice and it never works out. But my biggest problem is that he makes it all sound so simple. He claims there’s no reason why the Silurians and the humans couldn’t work together, but as I’ve already mentioned at the beginning of this review, it’s not as simple as that. We have trouble sharing the planet with members of our own species. How are we going to cope with another? And Nasreen sensibly points out that we can barely sustain our population due to limited resources. We can’t just shove another population of people on top. But no. The Doctor says it’s possible, therefore it must be so. I’m sick of New Who constantly squashing any chance for a complex moral debate in favour of overly simplistic answers. I would much rather watch Nasreen and Eldane debate about their futures rather than watch boring chase scenes and the Doctor pissing about like a tit in a trance.

Also how are Amy and Nasreen qualified to negotiate on behalf of the human race? I know Moffat and Chibnall are trying to sell the idea of the everyman hero, but again, it’s not as simple as that. How are they going to explain this to the people on the surface? Are the Silurians just going to march into the UN and go ‘Hi guys! Sorry to disturb you. We’re the Silurians. Basically these two humans that you don’t know and have no authority whatsoever have said we can share the planet with you guys. Hope that’s okay. Bye.’

Also Amy makes the idiotic suggestion that the Silurians can populate the Sahara, the Nevada Plains and the Australian Outback because they’re ‘uninhabited.’

Blimey, I’d hate to be the one that has to tell the Tuareg or the indigenous Australians that they’re going to have to share their lands with a bunch of lizard people.

Anyway the negotiations break down, everyone scarpers, the Doctor tells Tony that he’s not in fact dying but actually mutating (Huh?), and so has to stay underground to be decontaminated while Nasreen elects to stay with him (it’s a shame. I’d love to have seen her as a companion. She got on so well with the Doctor and Meera Syal is always fun to watch). Then Eldane poisons his own people (da fuck?!), the Doctor blows up the drill and then makes the insanely stupid suggestion that Mo, Ambrose and Elliot spread the word that in a thousand years time the planet is to be shared.

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That is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. There are two possible scenarios to this. Either everyone dismisses them as a bunch of weirdos or UNIT and Torchwood get wind of it and venture underground for a bit of pest extermination. (Also doesn’t the Earth get scorched by solar flares a thousand years in the future in The Beast Below?)

And then just when you think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, that bloody crack shows up again. It has the same effect as the one in Flesh And Stone did, effectively trampling all over the narrative. But then things take an unexpected turn when Rory kicks the bucket. Both Matt Smith and Karen Gillan are to be commended here because they both act their socks off in this scene, but it’s hard to be emotionally invested because Rory’s not dead. And I’m not just saying that with the benefit of hindsight. Even at the time I didn’t think Rory was actually dead because we saw him and Amy’s future selves waving at the beginning of The Hungry Earth. So I suspected that Moffat’s hand was hovering over the reset button. It was just a question of when he was going to press it. So yeah, it did dampen the emotional impact ever so slightly.

Now usually I like to inject some humour into my reviews, usually in the form of cynicism, bad puns, and occasionally through the use of smutty innuendo because I’m really, really childish. Believe it or not, I don’t sit there thinking of naughty things to say. Sometimes the best ones are just handed to me on a silver platter, and this is one such occasion. I see it as my reward for putting up with an hour and a half of crap, so if you don’t mind I’d like to take this opportunity to just savour the moment.

Ready? Here we go.

The Doctor sticks his hand up Moffat’s crack and pulls out a shard of the TARDIS.

Oh thank you God! You’re too kind to me!

Cold Blood is terrible in every way. Chris Chibnall tries so hard to replicate the success of the original Doctor Who And The Silurians, but forgets what made the original so good to begin with. If you’re interested in the Silurians and/or want to get into the classic series, I urge you to watch the original Silurian story. It’s dark and morally complex with well written, nuanced characters and the ending has a shocking and tragic impact because you actually grow to care for both sides. If you’re prepared to look past the bad 70s special effects and cheap looking rubber latex monster designs, it’s a treat. The Hungry Earth and Cold Blood on the other hand is an absolute failure that pales in comparison to the original. The characters are one dimensional, the moral debate is reduced to two sets of extremes with none of the complexity or nuance the story requires, and I didn’t give a single shit about anyone or anything. The Silurians deserve so much better than this.

#cold blood #chris chibnall #doctor who #eleventh doctor #matt smith #amy pond #karen gillan #rory williams #arthur darvill #silurians #steven moffat #bbc #review #spoilers

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allorganichome · 7 years

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How Far Should You Push Your Baby?

She’s a baby any parent can be proud of. At only nine months of age, Darce (pronounced “darz,” thankyouverymuch) has already said her first word (charmingly, it was “foyer”). She is also pulling herself to standing and has taken a step or two – and was caught before she fell, but still, that’s impressive! Meanwhile, her sociability with the other nine- to twelve-month-olds at her Montessori daycare is far ahead of the curve; her teacher even believes she’s seen evidence of attempted sharing and turn-taking, rare in the under 15-month crowd. You’d be so proud of her…if only she were yours.

“Is My Child Falling Behind?”

“Why isn’t MY child doing that?” you may ask yourself every time you see a Darce on social media performing tricks you haven’t even dreamed of yet for your own child (heck, she’s ahead of YOU some days). Don’t think you’re alone, either. We’ve all been there: parents worried that our children just aren’t making the grade developmentally. (Even parents of the most apparently advanced babies have these concerns once in a while.) Comparing babies – and worrying – is a longstanding tradition, so we can’t blame social media entirely for this, but the internet has certainly amped the comparisons…and the worries. It’s so normal – we want our children to be happy and healthy…but we also want them to have an edge. So when our children aren’t reciting the Latin names for the plants in our garden by age three – or even if they aren’t turn-taking by preschool - yes, we worry. But should we?

Superbaby… Well…

Everybody Else Here’s the reality: babies aren’t robots; they don’t always perform on command, on request…or even on time. Many a parent has stood helplessly by while her child’s pediatrician insisted, “Your child is entirely normal. Don’t push her.” You’d love to listen to that and heed it. It all seems to make sense, but worries remain: if you don’t push your child now, what if she starts falling behind? To make your concerns even worse (and even bigger in your own mind), “superinfants” are all over social media, placed there by (deservedly) proud parents. If your baby just gooed his first two-syllable word, Superbaby has put together her first three-word sentence (at two months younger than your son). Cute picture of Rolph the retriever licking your child’s face? Superbaby’s pet exploits have just been captured in slow-aperture lens as he attempts to teach the dog the basics of American Sign Language. When your toddler puts together alphabet blocks and cries out “A!” correctly, Superbaby will be there on your feed giving both the long- and shwa-sound version of the letter. You get the idea. Oh, sure, It’s a given that Facebook isn’t real life…not exactly, anyway. What parent posts his or her worst moments there? On the other hand, pics and video don’t lie. Prompted or not, someone else’s child is performing at any given moment, and you’re right there viewing the evidence. Is it time to worry? And more to the point: is it time to push?

Developmental Milestones:

If She’s in There…It’s All Good Relax. Unless you suspect a legitimate developmental delay (in which case do not hesitate to make an appointment with the pediatrician to express your concerns), if your child is falling within normal ranges for development, it is not time for worry. Please note that “normal ranges for development” does not mean what you think other babies your child’s age are doing. It means basic, fairly broad ranges in any given age group as given by a large-scale, legitimate, medical or medical-associated, data-collected source. (Here are CDC guidelines, for example. You may prefer another source and/or prefer to ask your child’s pediatrician what she recommends.) We know, we know. It’s so hard to not just do something when you believe your child is lagging at the bottom rather than top end of “it’s okay, relax, she’s fine”. But release your worries and your competitive edge. It truly isn’t a competition. If your child is not showing worrisome signs that need addressing, and she is moving along within professional guideline suggestions, your worry is all about you, not her. Let it go.

When You Should Push

Actually, we prefer the term “encourage,” and we mean that. We’re just a bunch of parents, of course, not a research committee; we’ve learned through trial, error, and plenty of legitimate guidance. But frankly, we’ve never seen a single baby or child benefit, in the long run, from significant parental pushing, which, no matter how it’s couched, is stressful and may rebound later with a defiant child who refuses to “perform.” (Wouldn’t you?) On the other hand, nearly every single experience for a very young child is a learning experience. Even looking out the front window is a learning experience. So is listening to a song or rolling an orange around the kitchen floor. Stimulating your child by providing her with plenty of interaction, colorful, fun toys that “do something” (squeak, crinkle, have levers or buttons to push, etc.) and handing her safe, everyday objects to explore will be stimulating to her mind and emotions. If you’d like to encourage your baby a bit beyond the basics, increase the complexity of her toys by slow increments. Slow (unless she’s quite obviously bored out of her skull). Don’t worriedly study the “ages X to Y” literature on the box anxiously wondering when to shove the next age-up level item into your baby’s face. She WILL sense your stress and play won’t be play anymore. And toy or not, how much fun is that?

What If There’s a Legitimate Issue?

On the heels of “When should you push?” there is, of course, the question, “What if my child really IS behind – like, way behind?” Been there too. We discovered our son was behind the curve before he was three months old. He wasn’t tracking visually, and he shut down – literally – when we looked him in the face and spoke to him simultaneously, a trick all parents perform multiple times a day naturally. Children are SUPPOSED to want to look at you and hear you. What we discovered was that our son could look or listen – not both. In our case, our child was (and is) on the autism spectrum. We’re not trying to frighten you. Nine times out of ten (give or take – don’t forget, 73% of all statistics are entirely invented by the author), a delay, even a fairly large one, will be simply your child being your child, and she will catch up eventually. But here’s the positive side of listening to your instincts when you know something really is up. If you know early that there’s an issue, you can address it early, too, and most child development experts agree that early intervention has a very good chance of changing things for the better for your child. In our case, our son, at age 13 as of the writing of this article, is doing phenomenally well and just achieved his third 4.0 across the board in junior high. He earned a plaque for that. We earned full hearts – and that’s all he, and we, really needed. The moral here: as we’ve been saying all along, don’t panic and don’t think “worst case scenario” – but DO address very significant issues. Don’t be afraid of them. Don’t pretend they might just go away. Instead, go to the experts with high hopes. We believe you’ll achieve those very hopes with physical and neurological care for children advancing every single day. By the way, we posted about a gazillion pictures on Facebook of our son receiving that achievement plaque. Take that, Superbaby. Just sayin’.

What’s No Big Deal, What IS a Big Deal, and How Do You Tell the Difference?

We know, we know. Big Pharma wants your money, will try to drug your child, is out to get you, insert_trendy_view_of_medicine_here. But bear with us. Honestly, whether you go holistic (we do, partially), through modern medicine, or utilize a combination, find professionals you trust and then ask them what they think of your child’s development. If you’re sure you’re right and your doctor is wrong, and this view is consistent, change your doctor. Otherwise, don’t avoid your child’s issues if you think they’re serious – or even if you know you’re probably worrying over, well, not much. Ask a professional you trust and then go from there. Meanwhile, check trusted organizations for basic developmental milestones to get a feel for what generally can/should be expected from a child your baby’s age, especially if you have no idea what to start. What NOT to do? Go on Facebook, look at other people’s fantasies of their perfect children, and judge your child based on such parameters. Just…don’t. Trust us on this one.

Keeping Things in Perspective

How you raise your baby is entirely up to you. We’re not here to judge. What we do have is a collective experience (so far) of eleven children, 27 parenting years, and loads and loads of tears…AND chest-pounding moments of pride. We’ve been enmeshed in the Mommy/Daddy wars. Are they worth it? No. What HAS been worth it? Watching our children grow up and having the privilege of helping them do so. You and your child get just this one chance at her growing up. You’re there to teach and nurture, but you’re also there to accept. She has flaws. So do you. (Psst…so does Superbaby, when it comes right down to it.) Don’t get caught in a competition with your baby in the middle. Teach her, but also ENJOY her, and let her enjoy you, and her own childhood. In that way, you’re both winners.

Your Home. Your Life. All Organic.

Source URL: How Far Should You Push Your Baby?

#YouTube #All Organic Home #Organic Home #Organic Bedroom

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the-desolated-quill · 7 years

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Spider-Man: Homecoming - Reaction blog (No Spoilers)

I’m really fed up right now. Not just because Spider-Man: Homecoming was as bland, uninspired and tediously dull as I predicted it would be, but also because people have the fucking nerve to try and tell me that this is the best Spider-Man movie ever made. That this soulless, Frankenstein-esque assembly line production is somehow an improvement over the Amazing movies. I... Were we watching the same movie? We can’t have been watching the same movie, surely!

Let me just quickly recap my thoughts on the previous Spider-Man movies. I’ve never liked the Sam Raimi movies and I’ve always been continuously baffled as to why others still think these movies are good. Spider-Man 2 in particular keeps finding its way onto top ten lists, and just... WHY? It’s rubbish! The plot is ridiculous, the villain is stupid, the love story is a load of bollocks and Peter Parker’s ‘internal conflict’ doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense under any close scrutiny. I suspect the people that keep saying Spider-Man 2 is one of the best superhero movies ever made haven’t actually watched the movie in a very long time. Trust me, it really doesn’t hold up. The Amazing movies are, plain and simply, better movies. They have better writing, better characterisation, a better romance, more complex villains (okay, Electro was a bit weak. I’ll give you that) and the perfect Spider-Man. Andrew Garfield captured the essence of the character beautifully. So every time I hear somebody say that the Amazing movies sucked and that Tom Holland’s version is actually an improvement, I do get a little bit cross.

I suppose Spider-Man: Homecoming is technically not a bad movie. It’s competently made and I’m sure it’s possible to enjoy it if you switch your brain off beforehand (something which is increasingly becoming a basic requirement to enjoy these bloody movies). It’s just so shallow and so predictable. I could pinpoint exactly what was going to happen and when it would happen before it happened. It’s that formulaic.

It also doesn’t help that they’ve seemed to replace the comedy and characterisation that Spider-Man is famous for with forced slapstick and stereotypes. No. Seriously. It’s bad enough that with every reboot that Spidey keeps getting yanked back into high school as though he’s attached to a fucking bungie rope, but this has got to be the most cliched school I’ve ever seen. Every single character is a stereotype. EVERY SINGLE ONE. Flash is the bully. Why? Because he’s the bully. That’s his sole purpose for existing. Zendaya plays the disinterested loner... and that’s it. That’s literally her character. Liz is the popular girl/love interest and she’s the most bland character in this movie. We never learn anything about her, why Peter is attracted to her (apart from the obvious. She’s kind of pretty) and we’re never given a reason to want to see them together. And people actually think this is an improvement over the Amazing movies?! Peter and Gwen had so much more chemistry than these two!

And as for Ned...

You know, I didn’t think it was possible to be more annoying than Michael Pena’s character was in Ant-Man, but they somehow pulled it off. Ned fucking irritated me. He’s not funny. He’s not likeable. His friendship with Peter is never explored or developed. He exists solely to be the chubby nerd who waddles along behind the main protagonist in order to make him look good by comparison.

Also he’s clearly supposed to be Ganke Lee from Ultimate Spider-Man. YEAH! YOU’RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE MARVEL! WE SEE YOU!

Because that’s another thing that pisses me off about this movie. Having exhausted all possible creative avenues with this version of Spider-Man, they now start liberally borrowing from other versions, most notably Miles Morales. In fact, this Peter Parker is Miles Morales pretty much. So why didn’t they just use Miles Morales, I hear you ask. Oh no! They can’t possibly do that! It’s far more acceptable to give every excuse under the sun as to why Peter Parker must be the only Spider-Man and why this is absolutely not the right time to introduce Miles Morales into the MCU, whilst ripping off every single aspect of Miles Morales’ story in order to desperately prop up their white fave. Is this an example of Marvel’s creative bankruptcy or casual racism? I honestly couldn’t tell you. After Doctor Strange and Iron Fist, I could believe either one.

I can’t help but feel sorry for Tom Holland. He’s a good actor and I’m sure he could be a great Spider-Man, given the chance. He was pretty good in Civil War. Here it’s a whole other story. Holland fails to capture the essence of Spider-Man here, and I suspect it’s the fault of the director more than the actor. Have the filmmakers ever actually spoken to a teenager before? This is not how a 15 year old behaves. This is more like a 7 year old on a sugar rush. The filmmakers seem to have confused ‘inexperienced’ with childish. That’s the perfect word to describe this Spider-Man. He’s childish. He’s ‘socially awkward’ in inverted commas, and by that I mean it’s that really forced, clownish kind of socially awkward you normally see in bad British romcoms. The main reason why Holland’s performance suffers is because he’s given absolutely no good material to work with. His character doesn’t grow or evolve in any meaningful way and the comedy is woefully inadequate. The filmmakers also seem to have completely misunderstood the character on a a fundamental level, and I can’t really explain why without going into spoilers, but it’s unbelievably frustrating how much they’ve botched his characterisation.

You may have noticed I haven’t talked about Vulture yet... Good for you.

And obviously Iron Man is in this movie who, in the trailers, is presented as being a kind of mentor figure for Spidey. But in the actual movie, the character briefly offered a small glimmer of hope because it looked as though the movie was going to take the character in a completely different direction than was previously expected. I reached my hands out in desperation for this new development. Yes! Finally! Something interesting! Something morally complex! More of that please! But it was not to be. In fact by the end I felt pretty insulted by what they did with Iron Man and his relationship with Peter because it actually completely disregards what happened in Civil War. (Marvel also did this to Winter Soldier in Avengers: Age Of Ultron. Why do they keep disrespecting the Russo Brothers and erasing their contributions to the franchise? Don’t they realise that the Russos are the only people currently making good movies in this fucking shambles of a shared universe?)

So that’s Spider-Man: Homecoming. A painfully dull and hollow experience that offers absolutely nothing of substance. And apparently that makes it the best Spider-Man movie ever made.

Can we stop making Spider-Man reboots please?

#spider-man: homecoming #marvel cinematic universe #sony #reaction #no spoilers

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