#neo agent 3 (soup)

[blueberry-blast]

@ the GrandFest hanging out with both grandpa's :)

[usedtobeathrowaway]

something that i think isn't talked about enough in the splatoon fandom is that Agent 4's main weapon is directly based off an actual real-life weapon

[squoobest]

bisque and his weird cousin (chowder)

(transcript in comment notes bc my handwriting is awful)

[duckapus]

soup is my feral squid child that is partially fuzzied and acts like a cat - superluigiglitchy (because im too shy to show my main blog)

She sounds fun!

My own version of Neo 3 that I usually use (he says as if he's ever actually managed to write any of the fics he's daydreamed up over the years) is named Andi Finn (like i said your name sounds better) and while she's not fuzzied at all she does have something weird up with her beak that makes it look like a bunch of sharp teeth (or a bear trap, fittingly enough). She also has no verbal filter, especially when it comes to swearing, and is fluent in Salmonid Because Reasons. She and the Smallfry actually met less than a minute before meeting Craig because they got in a fight over some food they found (they're both scavengers) and during said fight they fell into the crater. So Craig saw some random homeless teenager and a tiny fish fall off a cliff while trying to kill each-other and his only thought was "It's Free Grandsquids Agents"

(incidentally I call the Smallfry Crabcake (or "The Eternal Hunger, Devourer of the Bear" since Salmonids use titles instead of names, but it's fine with Crabcake as a convenient nickname) and consider it Agent 5, because Salmonids are just as sapient as Inklings and Octolings even if everyone including Nintendo keeps forgetting that)

[superluigiglitchy]

incorrect quotes

Meggy: Please i'g begging you go see a DOCTOR- Paige, bleeding out of the floor: I'm sorry is this our stab wound? stay out of this. - Neo 3 aka Soup: God has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

-

Cap'n Cuttlefish: Capitalization is the difference between "I had to help my uncle Jack off a horse.." and "I had to help my uncle jack off a horse.." - Soup: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you? - Marie: We call that a traumatic experience. Marie, turning to Callie: Not a "bruh moment". Marie, turning to Soup: Not "sadge". Marie, turning to Paige: And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO". - Soup: Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat Cap'n Cuttlefish: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents. Soup: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you. Meggy: Actually I did the math, Cap'n Cuttlefish would have $225, not $0.15. Cap'n Cuttlefish: Fam I’m right here…. 8: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :) Soup: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please? 8: Sorry I only have a dollar. Soup: :( Meggy: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Cap'n Cuttlefish would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent. 8: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice. Meggy: You can buy anything you want with $22,500. Harbor: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice. Meggy: Apply juice to what. Harbor: Directly to the forehead. Cap'n Cuttlefish: Great chat everyone. - Soup: I can’t believe my birth certificate says F… Soup: …How did I fail being born?

-

Marie: To be honest, I'm kinda pissed that I'm not asleep in bed next to the love of my life in a cottage with no obligations other than watering my vegetable garden.

-

Cap'n Cuttlefish: Meggy, Paige, I’ve left a letter telling your parents not to worry— Meggy: They won’t. Cap'n Cuttlefish: that you’re safe— Meggy: That’ll just depress them. Cap'n Cuttlefish: —and you’ll see them in a few weeks. Paige: Do we have to? Cap'n Cuttlefish: .... Cap'n Cuttlefish: *slowly takes out the adoption papers*

-

Cap'n Cuttlefish: You three, explain right now! Harbor: It was Soup. Paige: It was Soup. 8: It was Soup. Soup: Soup: …fuck. - Callie: To everyone who has treated me poorly; I am sexier than you. - Paige: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying. Soup: And? Paige: And you are. Soup: I love you too

[scootszilla]

quit your job join my emo band

[ghostie-gengar]

three four eight three!!

relationship chart and their swim forms :3

hcs under the cut (ages are as of splat3)

Captain

real name Sango, aka DJ Sango, nicknamed Agent Ick (squid sisters)

she/her, played with he/him during OE

22

robust clubhook squid

splattershot main but can work with anything

pretty chill and stoic but tells really good stories if she's in the mood

loves her girlfriend agent 8 so much and thinks she's the most amazing girl in the world <3

pretty blunt with the rest of the splatoon but with eight she's so warm it's like she's a totally different person (can you tell im obsessed with agent 24)

she sees a lot of herself in Neo but doesn't really know how to talk to them so she just. stares at them

acts fed up with Neo's antics but secretly finds them endearing. likes to pick them up and throw them

huge scar on her eye from being sanitized (the eye glows tho so thats cool) and has various others all over

Agent 4

real name Shoyu, nicknamed Sho (marie) and Four-Brains (captain)

he/him

19

firefly squid

dualies main

his freckles and spots glow! his tentacles are sparkly and so is his ink thanks to a condition he has. it's about as common as freckles

super busy college student trying to balance his hobbies with agent duties and schoolwork

hobbies include video games, music, parkour, clam blitz, and hanging out with his friends

knees are usually scraped

wears mismatched socks

he's a super cool guy, but he tries a little too hard sometimes so he can be kinda cringefail but we love him!!

super nosy and pays a lot of attention to details, mild perfectionism

shortest of the agents other than Neo, but give them like a year and they'll be taller than him

Agent 8

real name Umiko, nicknamed Eighty (captain)

she/her

22

bimac octopus

mains heavy splatling and e-liter

she's shy when you first meet her but she's super sweet and friendly once you get to know her

hides in small spaces when she's scared, easily startled

besties with Four, they play just dance together

she thinks Captain is soooo cool and has a huge crush on her (yes they're dating)

prefers to be called Eight over her real name. only Captain gets to call her Umiko <3

lives with Captain, but stayed at Four's place during splat3

has some burn scars on her back (from failed OE missions) and post side order one of her tentacles is bleached (same side as captain's sanitization scar <3)

Neo Agent 3

real name Trip, aka Inkborn Harbinger Of Destiny, nicknamed Newbie (squid sisters and captain)

they/them

13

bigfin reef squid

splatana main (they modded their splatana wiper to have the firepower of a stamper)

they lie about their age to play turf wars- this led to them being recruited into the NSS

autism swag

they love love love shiny things and also spiderman

looks up to Captain but is also terrified of her

loves it when Captain picks them up and throws them

when they get scared/overwhelmed during missions they go and sit near Captain. they don't even say anything, it's just comforting to be near someone they know has been through worse

had an enormous crush on Shiver until they met her, when she genuinely tried to kill them

has a strong sense of wonder and is fascinated by all that alterna has to offer

the back of their head is fuzzy, and they have various scratches all over

homeless for most of their life, briefly lived with the Salmonids, then was able to snag an apartment with special arrangements for their rent to be cheaper since they're a kid

they scrape by selling the treasure they find in the desert

they see Miso as their equal and treat him like a younger sibling. they get extremely offended when people assume he's their pet, as does he

hates Mr. Grizz with a passion.

Neo Agent 3 Jr.

real name Miso, aka Miso Soup With Tofu And Green Onions With A Side Of Dumplings And Fried Rice, nicknamed Little Buddy (Neo)

he/him

7

smallfry salmonid

was rescued by Neo from Grizzco before he hatched, where Mr. Grizz had full intentions to kill him

he hatched from a special golden egg that glowed brighter than all the rest, it was prophesied that he would leave the salmonids and rise up against a great evil

always hungry, will munch on anything (including Captain's shoes)

extremely loyal to Neo and loves them very much. the two of them look out for each other and live together

he and Neo lived with the salmonids when Neo couldn't nail down a permanent place to live, then they had to leave due to an unfortunate incident with Grizzco.

[marigolds-cafe]

“Agent Marigold, At your service, how can be of help?”

Name : ▉▉▉▉▉▉

Code Name : Agent Marigold.

Place of birth: [REDACTED], England, Whereabouts unknown.

Nationality: British.

Date of birth: April 12, 19XX

Age : 25

Height: 5’7

Gender : Genderqueer

Pronouns : They/It/None/Neos

Eyes: Green

Hair: Brown, White streaks.

Dominant hand: Left

Status: Unknown

Flavor profile: Sweet

Favorite Color: Yellow/Orange

Zodiac: Aries

MB Type: to be added

Weapon of choice: Poison

——————

This is the ask blog for Agent Marigold!

Marigold is an OC. They run a small, very legitimate cafe, that’s definitely not an agency front. Rumour has it they used to work for Zoraxis, specialising in poisons, but that’s just a rumour. Wouldn’t recommend drinking their herbal tea though.

Prices are hung on one wall :

Tea (Non-Herbal) - $2.50

Tea (Herbal) - $2.30

Coffee - $3

Hot Chocolate - $2.50

Any Food Items - $1.80 - $2.50

——————

RULES AND INFO :

This blog is run by @depression-soup .

CONTENT WARNINGS : Fourth Wall Breaks, Existential/Philosophical Talk on occasion, Eye Imagery, Poison.

Orange Text means Marigold is speaking.

Purple Text means The Author (( aka, me )) is speaking.

Italic Text means The Annotator is talking. It’s name holds no significance, it’s just the narrator of this story.

No NSFW.

Shipping is allowed, just please message me beforehand.

No bigotry, anything that makes me uncomfortable will be deleted.

Magic Anons are allowed.

Friendly reminder the author is a minor and queer, and the character is queer too.

Marigold : They/It/None/Neos

The Annotator : It/None

<The Author> : Any Except She/Her

[semper-legens]

180. Brigands MC, by Robert Muchamore

Owned: No, library Page count: 406 My summary: The Brigands are a biker gang run by a neo-Nazi who isn't afraid to shoot children if he sees a need to. Years ago, a young man called Dante had his entire family murdered by their leader, and now he's out for revenge. As a CHERUB agent, he gets the chance when he goes undercover to take the man down. But tangling with biker gangs will always be a dangerous game. Will CHERUB be able to arrest the gang leader…or will Dante have to take matters into his own hands? My rating: 3/5 My commentary:

Well, we're almost at the end of the line with CHERUB. Sort of - I call this the penultimate CHERUB book, but it's actually the penultimate in the main line of CHERUB books. There were more after this, but this is the penultimate book that follows James Adams and the original cast of the CHERUB series. Anyway. I know I sound like a broken record on this, but I still have no idea how to think about the CHERUB series. I used to think it was so grown up and mature when I was reading it as a kid, but looking back on it as an adult I find it to be exactly the opposite. Doubtless I'll have more room to round out my thoughts in the next post where I cover the last book, but for now, time for bikers and brigands and child spies, oh my!

This book has a bunch of decisions that make no sense to me both in and out of universe. Okay, so here's the setup. Dante was a kid when his entire family was murdered by the leader of the biker gang his father belonged to, the Brigands. He escaped by chance, got recruited to CHERUB around the time that Lauren was, and hasn't yet been seen in the series because he was away on a long mission in Ireland. CHERUB decides to send Dante, with his newly acquired Irish accent and some hair dye, into a sting operation to catch this guy. In-universe, what is the justification for sending a kid who grew up with this man's family undercover with just some hair dye? If CHERUB is a functional secret agency, why would they even take the risk of someone recognising this kid and realising something's up? Hell, the gang leader's kid, who grew up with Dante, says that he recognises Dante immediately upon seeing him. It's only the hair colour that throws him off. And, frankly, in a slightly more realistic universe Dante would have been rumbled in an instant. Secondly, this is the penultimate CHERUB book, so it's really weird that it's all about this kid who hasn't shown up in the series until this point. If I were Robert Muchamore, I'd be focusing more on the established characters that we already have? Everything else gets sidelined for Dante's revenge, and we don't even see James and Lauren for a significant portion of the plot. It's a really strange choice to make this late in the game.

Meanwhile, what of our actual main characters? James is much as he ever is. A biker mission is right up his alley, given that he loves motorbikes, a trait that James has shown many times before now. CHERUB makes some weird choices here, like initially not allowing James to get an illegally souped-up bike to get himself more ingratiated with the gang. Guys…if your undercover agents are going to be effective at being undercover, you know they've gotta do some morally dubious shit sometimes? Like, I get why CHERUB has a prohibition on their agents taking class-A drugs, but at the same time the kids' hardline rule against taking any drugs makes them stand out among the actual criminals. Almost like the idea of child spies is horribly unethical, even when the series claims it is. Lauren doesn't really get much of a look-in, other than having a brief romantic subplot where she's on the outs with her boyfriend Rat and ends up drunkenly making out with Dante, but that doesn't really go anywhere, so I'm not really sure why it's there.

As for the mission itself, the kids are trying to bust the leader of the Brigands for his illegal smuggling of guns and other major weaponry into the country, as well as gang violence and murder. The emotional core, however, is Dante's personal revenge for the murder of his family. Which makes it interesting when the mission controllers pull the plug on the mission before shit gets too dangerous, and the leader of the gang still walks free. The idea that the 'good guys' don't always win is an interesting one, and it leaves the series open to finish this sting in the next book. But also, it makes for a good character moment for Dante, who decides to use all his CHERUB equipment and training to take down the leader before ultimately deciding that he can't do it. It's a good character study for the guy. I just wish it was a character we'd spent a bit more time with?

Next up, more CHERUB, as the series closes out with a simple bodyguarding mission.

[drmedicsgamesurgery]

Danganronpa Togami Volume 3 Part 2 (Summary)

Happy new year everyone! What better way to start it off then with a new summary?

Thanks to @enoshima-pyon @shockersalvage​ @jinjojess​ @hopeymchope​ for helping out!

WARNING: MAJOR DANGANRONPA KIRIGIRI VOLUME 2 SPOILERS AHEAD.

5.

After a while, they switched the helicopter for a train, and they continued their journey to the Netherlands, where the international tribunal is. Shinobu is separated from Byakuya, the Impostor and Kazuya and put in a prison-like-wagon. There are many UN and WHO soldiers guarding it. There, she eavesdrops a conversation between the Impostor, Ibuki Mioda and Gundham Tanaka by using Borges. 

"Hey--the number here is almost the same as the hall of Yokohama Stadium. Ooh, is this where they’re going to hold the New Year’s concert!?” [1] wonders Ibuki. 

"No matter how well these human beings work together, they can't stop the Supreme Overlord of Ice… mwahahahahahaha!"  which came from Gundham.

“Shut up. Because you two are so useless, we ended up being caught by such a boring group like the United Nations.” reprimanded the Imposter.

Shinobu asks herself how many people are working for the Super High School Level Despair, and since Ibuki, Gundham, Sonia and Souda are already working for them, she thinks that maybe her whole class/year has fallen into despair. She then asks herself why the Despair High didn’t ask her to join.

Although this idea is crazy, this reality is so crazy, I think that it is possible the reason is: because I belong to Byakuya-sama. I felt sad for a few seconds, before I thought about it. It didn’t matter. I have my God. Although, I don’t know who their God is, but they can’t be compared to Byakuya Togami.

A soldier brings Shinobu to a luxurious cell room, then leaves.

Fixed bed, fixed sofa, folding table, painting on the wall, good air conditioning... I have no interest in rail travel, it seems to me that this is just a luxurious single cell. After I sat down at one end of the bed, the door was locked. The soldier just gave me a drink, orange juice. I don't know who he regarded me as. I took a sip of orange juice with dissatisfaction. The long-lost water made my stomach irritated, and I found myself hungry. Speaking of which, I haven’t had a decent bite to eat since I was attacked in the Church of Bones. Although I may be irritated by Mishima Yukio, I began to want to drink hot miso soup and eat plum dry rice balls. [2]

Kazuya enters the room, holding a prosthetic arm.

"I’m finally able to be alone with you, my sister, after four years of being alone," he put the right hand on the table and sat down on the sofa. "The train is about to leave, just like our future."

"..."

"From the Czech Republic to the Netherlands will be a long journey. I originally wanted to fly, but we have to go through Germany on the way and they are not willing to give us a flight permit."

"..."

"Please, sister, don't tease me. Just because I wanted to see my sister, I wanted to hear my sister's voice, I worked hard to live up to today."

"...So, you think you have won."

"I’m not that conceited. I’m not the winner yet, but I will win soon."

"Let me see Byakuya-sama."

"That’s a scary thought, how could I allow that? I have to let my sister sit in the special seat to watch my victory... Hehe."

"What's so funny."

"Oh, of course it's funny, having to speak such villainous lines when I am clearly the hero."

"We don't have time to waste like this right now."

Kazuya responds by saying that she shouldn’t worry, now that everyone involved with the World Domination Proclamation have been captured, that she should just sit back and relax.

"You think you have won?" I repeated. "So far, all you’ve done is somehow come back from the dead, and reversed everything.."

"Oh no, I’m not dead. I have hands and feet and heart, but I have no hope."

“Where is Byakuya-sama?” I asked.

“Byakuya Togami, the Despair High School, Class 78, they are all locked up.”

Shinobu thinks that it regrettable that Sakura Oogami was captured, but at the same time if she can move freely there should be a way to get out of this situation.

The train started. The steel dragon started to move slowly, and then the speed gradually increased, as if to show that he was carrying our will, driving forward with violent momentum. The shock from under my butt was unexpectedly comfortable, perhaps because I was too tired and sleep came to me. 

However sleep could not come to her because Kazuya brings her a new prosthetic arm to replace the broken one. Shinobu knows that it’s for the best, so she takes off her shirt and extends her left arm from the elbow to him. 

"Sister... I’m sorry, I have not protected you."

Although the wound has healed, the skin there is very thin. I almost cried out to prevent it Kazuya from seeing it, and quickly said, “It’s not me that you need to apologize to.”

“Who else should I apologize to then, sister?” asks Kazuya. 

“Go and apologize to those you have murdered.”

“Those that I have murdered?”

His tone sounded completely confused. If this were an old-time novel, this sentence may be written with a very unsavory katakana.

Shinobu reminds him of the siblings that he murdered and the villagers that he killed. Kazuya believes that in the world of the Togami Family it’s “kill or be killed” to justify himself. Plus, it was his “big sister” that brought him into that world anyway.

This causes Shinobu to think back about the events of Kuchinashi Village. However, she can’t seem to recall the events clearly, most likely due to her young age. I suddenly had a question: At that time, which hand did I reach out to Kazuya, the left hand or the right hand? As such, she has to ask Kazuya details about it.

Shinobu asks "Do you remember when I saved you in the village?"

"Yes, for me it is a precious memory." he says

"Which hand did I extend to you at that time?"

"Of course, it was the left hand." he said confidently. With that said, Shinobu couldn’t say anything else and let her be at his mercy. After the installation of the prosthetic hand, I moved it a little. Compared with the latest prosthetic hand made by the Togami Conglomerate, it felt more like my own arm.

Kazuya explains to Shinobu his plan to conquer the world. He will spread the Despair Novel even more and make the world fall into chaos. Then he will accuse Byakuya of everything and arrest him. This way he will be acclaimed as the hero who saved the world from the Despair Disease.

Shinobu refused to accept this and declares that as long as her work remains unfinished, she isn’t finished and, by extension, Byakuya Togami will not be finished.

Even if Byakuya loses and disappears from the world, as long as I am writing “Journey Under The Midnight Sun”, Byakuya Togami won’t be finished. I won’t let him be finished.

Kazuya claims she’s just being arrogant and no one would want to read the biography of a “loser”. He asserts that as the main protagonist of this story, he’ll take back everything that was stolen from him and steal everything from everyone else. That way he gets to enjoy the world, while also being the center of it.

“You’re just an ordinary person,” Shinobu says quickly. “You are just a general staff member of the United Nations. They cannot allow you to have the ambition to conquer the world."

“It’s because I am a general staff member of the United Nations that I will arrest Byakua Togami and kill that Imposter who pretended to be Byakuya Togami. Once I eradicate Despair Disease, I will be hailed a hero by the world! Then, once I get the Kudan, I will become Byakuya Togami!”

Shinobu notes that if Kazuya was able to pull this off then it wouldn’t just be empty words. He would have really conquered the world and without the use of the traditional style like territories or nuclear weapons.

But would Kazuya really be able to do this?

Then suddenly, Shinobu feels like she’s being lifted up, as her glass of orange juice flies up in the sky and shatters on the ceiling. 

The next moment, everything around me seemed to be tumbling like a washing machine.

 6.

When I woke up, the whole world was reversed. The bed and sofa in the room were above, and I fell on the ceiling, now the floor.

Shinobu asks Borges what the situation is like and it answers that she was in a coma for three minutes and eleven seconds and she reported a few light injuries. The window of her room is broken and the iron bars covering have been bent from the impact so she is able to get out of the train.

There she sees countless dead soldiers and a group of “Tentacles Soldiers”. They are checking if all the soldiers are dead, and if they find someone who is alive they proceed to kill them. Shinobu looks around and sees the Uragan (#41908870) (which is most likely the cause of the train crash) and Taeko Kanai from the Hasegawa Research Institute.

“It’s no use trying! Resistance is futile! Hand over Byakuya Togami or we’ll keep up our bloodbath!” declares Taeko while playing her guitar atop the Uragan. The Hasegawa Institute seemed to be back...no the Kasamori [3] Drug Manufacturers were back again.

Borges = Search Results #21291600 

Item: Company

Title: "Kasamori Drug Manufacturers"

Was created by Kasamori, founded in the 32nd year of Meiji (1899). Mainly selling professional medical supplies, it merged with Germany's NEO GEHIRN in 1902, becoming the de facto number one in the pharmaceutical industry. After the defeat of the German-Japanese alliance in World War II, the company lost all of its foreign assets and equipment, and later achieved a V-shaped recovery through the manufacture and sale of the red-haired fern tablets 220, which were hailed as “epoch-making anticancer agents”. However, the drug caused many patients to die due to its side effects. The company lost the group lawsuit filed by the patient's family (Red-haired Fern lawsuit, 1998), not only to pay huge compensation, but also to damage the reputation. There are rumors. It is said that the current operating conditions of the company have deteriorated drastically.

Naturally, the WHO/UN soldiers refuse, causing both groups to fight. Kazuya suddenly comes out of the train and reaches to Shinobu. Both come to realize that their attackers are also after the Kudan. She asks him where Byakuya is and he reluctantly tells her that he is in the first wagon, but that the security measures of the train will protect him no matter what.

“A pharmacy actually dares to make life difficult for the WHO, the world is really hopeless. They were probably brought up by dogs, with the way they are acting.” Kazuya says.

“When did you discover Kasamori was posing as the Hasegawa Research Institute?

"What? Sister, what are you talking about?"

"Kasamori is posing at the Hasegawa Research Institute."

Was I the only one to hear about this organization? What is this unspeakable emotion? I remembered that when the classmates in the previous class discussed "Sinking of Japan," [4] I thought they were talking about a very old movie, but soon I found out that they were talking about the remastered version of the movie. Although the plot is the same, it is different from the original version that I am familiar with. Having these almost similar plotlines described to me made me feel like I was transported to some Unreal parallel world. It wasn’t an easy topic for me to handle. For example, it is like an elementary school talent show. When I was performing a children's play at the show, I was about to come on stage. I suddenly found that only the script I had in my hand was different. At that time, I shuddered. 

"Well one thing is clear. It is Kasamori that blocked the road in Germany. Although their name is Kasamori Drug Manufacturers, most of the stockholders are German.”

Shinobu turned around, as to not show her anxiety.

"But aren’t their overseas assets all gone?"

"Just turned underground, and many of the high-ranking officials of Kasamori are now German political figures."

Kazuya explains that Germany likely didn’t give them passage by air, just so that they could stage this train attack on the UN and the WHO to get Byakuya and the Kudan. They will do everything they can in order to obtain the immense power of the Kudan.

"Where is Byakuya-sama?" Shinobu pipes up with.

“You might as well worry about yourself first. Byakuya was handed over to my army, with no problems."

"Where is Byakuya-sama ?"

"Just give it to me..."

"Where is Byakuya-sama?"

"Quit being annoying," Kazuya muttered under his breath. "Byakuya Togami is in the first car."

"I want to save him."

"No need for that, although things have developed to this point, but the physical security measures of the train are impeccable, the windows of the first car are all secured with iron bars, the door is locked from the outside with a padlock, and the outside world can't interfere with the inside."

"I want to save him."

"Are your ears blocked? I said that the safety measures are impeccable, but it’d still be dangerous for you to enter, sister.”

“But I still have to save him. This is the reason why I am alive. I want to look at him, write down his deeds, guarantee his safety. If not, then I will lose the meaning of my existence”

"What a silly fantasy. "

“If you are jealous then you can be quiet.”

“...If my sister must save him, then you mustn't care much for me then.”

“Stop worrying about me.”

Shinobu runs towards the first wagon, but Taeko sees her and several “Tentacles Soldiers” start approaching her.

“Found you, Blue Ink!”

The Uragan comes closer, creating a hole in the ground from the force, and Taeko asks Shinobu to choose between her life and revealing Byakuya’s position. Shinobu asks her about the Hasegawa Research Institute but Taeko has no clue what she’s talking about.

From the attitude of Taeko, she does not seem to be lying about herself. That is to say: she doesn't understand what I am talking about. What I said is very abnormal. I couldn’t believe it…

"Since you aren’t telling us what we need, then you are useless. We don’t have time for playing around anymore, so I will personally send you to hell!!" 

The jet engines began spinning. I was pulling Kazuya’s hand and was going to run behind the carriage to avoid it, but the carriage was blown away like paper.

"You have nowhere to run!"

Taeko’s words are quite right. I can’t find a place to hide. Because of the fierce battles around me, the bullets have now covered the whole area. 

Kazuya then calls all the surviving soldiers and now the two factions are facing each other while the Uragan is coming closer.

Can this be called fighting, isn't it just a matter of ending life without meaning? This is a mutual killing, until one side is the last man standing. A good image of Hell itself.

Then moving so lightly and skillfully, in the sky above such a hellish scene-

“Sorry to keeptcha waiting!!!!~”

Was my brother.

 7.

Suddenly a sightseeing bus jumps from the forest and over the hellish scene. It’s Suzuhiko Ootsuki, first off by singing a small nursery rhyme [5] and then ‘Ai wo Torimodose!!’.[6]

The former SHSL Hitman crashes the bus into the Tentacles Soldiers and the UN Soldiers, killing them and entwining the corpses within it’s wheels. 

"I have to get off at the next stop~! But this all night tour ain’t stopping since the breaks are broken!"

The bus then flew into one of the trains causing a large explosion. It seemed to be filled with gunpowder. Shinobu and Kazuya were blasted into the air by the giant explosion, like puppets whose strings had been cut. But after the crash, Suzuhiko wasn’t in the driver's seat anymore and there was a big hole cut in the bus door.

Then the sound of intermittent screamings stopped the soldiers from fighting and after a few seconds all the soldiers from both parties were on their knees, spilling blood from their necks of their chests. None of them were a match for the former SHSL Hitman.

Suzuhiko seemed to be tired of hide-and-seek, jumped out of the pasture, and rushed over to the Uragan in one breath. He stood in front of Taeko in the blink of an eye. Then everything is over.

"H-hey… "

Taeko spat out her last pitiful sentence, perhaps only because her neck was already cut to her vocal cords. Suzuhiko violently ripped away his knives and the body of Taeko was torn apart. Her hands, feet, internal organs and underwear fell like a ripe fruit from the Uragan. [7]

"Oh... Dahahahaha! I have to say that the gap between talent here is too big."

No one interrupted him because the "Tentacles Soldiers" and the United Nations Soldiers had been completely wiped out.

"Heeey, you can come out now. You are both still alive, right? Let's talk business." Suzuhiko said, with his knife gleaming.

Suzuhiko looks down on Shinobu and Kazuya from the top of the Uragan, then he gets off it and starts walking towards Kazuya and Shinobu. As Suzuhiko puts it they have a “family reunion”, which mostly consists of angry shouting and a recap exposition dump. Kazuya blames Suzuhiko for hindering his job, to which he responds he saved Kazuya's life so it's no good to talk to his big brother that way. He has saved it before and now he has saved it again. 

“I just said that what you did hindered me. I am the captain of the World Health Organization’s Infectious Disease Prevention and Control Committee. I am not who I was four years ago.”

"Are you going to rub your own ass? Oh, Dahahahaha! I’ll wait for you to wear a diaper so you can say that again!"

“I am no longer a child.”

They continue to argue, Suzuhiko bringing up the point that they are not blood related so he didn’t have to save him. 

"Why did you even come to the Czech Republic? Don’t tell me you are after the Kudan, too."

"Nah, I'm not interested in the prophecy your little cow girl, I just accepted the commission to the assassination of Byakuya Togami." 

“Who commissioned you?”

"Do you think I’m really gonna tell you."

"Are you lying, them?" Kazuya said. "You spontaneously came to the Czech Republic and spontaneously blended into this incident."

"Well~ why do you think so?"

"Intuition."

"Intuition alone can't refute someone, Kazuya. It's because of this reason that you were destroyed by that detective in that incident."

"Do you know what happened to that detective? I heard that he is dead, like a dog."

"I'm not interested."

"To tell you the truth, I'm not either. Once I heard Nanamura was dead, my heart didn’t even waver once. It’s really strange to say but, I hate him so much that I can’t ever forgive him." [8]

"It means you haven't let go from the beginning."

“I didn't expect that I actually understood my feelings after so long... Can you understand your own mood?”

"Then now, there is only one purpose for me here. That is to reconcile with you." Suzuhiko said as he jumped off of the Uragan, onto Taeko’s mangled corpse and came over to stand in front of us.

Suzuhiko recites an old japanese saying and continues with, “This is how it is. Our brothers and sisters are all dead, only us are alive. The Togami name can no longer bind us, and the Togami name cannot be the motive for us to fight. So, we should naturally reconcile.”

"Are you serious?"

"Of course."

"Then you are crazy, you just ruin everything."

"Do you really think so, Kazuya? Then you are the crazy one, you destroyed everything."

Shinobu believes that this fight will be the end of the relationship between them all. It will be ruined as both Suzuhiko and Kazuya have ruined her, and she them.

Obviously, if the three of us are together, the destruction will come again, but my brother’s can't understand this. It has always been this way.

Shinobu lashes out at the both of them, saying she will not go back to either of them, as they are no longer Togami’s. Suzuhiko Ootsuki, Orvin Elevator: Both of them are now outsiders to the family.

"What you said is really sad, my dear little sister," Suzuhiko was unmoved. "Our name is not important at all. The relationship between me and you is enough to surpass the name Togami."

"The Togami name is very important. I am a Togami, I am the 'Super High School Level Secretary', belonging to Byakuya-sama only. So I can't really say it’s good to see you again."

"Oh, haha, don't mention the small stuff, let’s forgive and forget, and become as close as we were before all this, sound good?"

"Don't you dare."

It’s Kazuya. Taking a step forward, he let the lightsaber appear on his right hand and stopped in front of our big brother.

"Come on, Kazuya, how could a younger brother be able to beat his older brother? Put away that dangerous thing, and play some easier games. What do you reckon. chess or poker? Or I guess we could play UNO but, with me, well..."

"I want to save my sister, let her get rid of your curse, and use my own strength to do it."

And with that, Kazuya’s lightsaber, shining like a fluorescent lamp, grazed his older brothers throat. However, Suzuhiko continued to smile happily, like some hippie. He screamed, "Oho, guess it’s a change of heart~" He raised his bloodstained knife.

At that moment I heard a sound. A large flame was burning around us, and the fire ignited by the incendiary bomb surrounded us. The heat was almost enough to burn my throat, the crimson-colored [9] fire wall appears around, and the surrounding is covered by a brand new hellish scene. Moreover, this does not seem to be having a positive effect on Kazuya. He looked at the sky with an incredulous look, and screamed "This can’t be-," and Kazuya-

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah"

He was shaking.

Borges = Search Results

#90908892

Classification: Symptom

Title: "Flashback"

Post traumatic stress disorder, a mental disorder caused by intense psychological stress due to disasters, accidents, emergencies, etc., causing psychological fake events or the situation which caused the trauma reappearing in the brain and, when the symptoms are severe, it may even cause confusion.

After two fires in Kuchinashi Village and at Touajou Castle, Kazuya was indeed insane. I didn’t know when his sword disappeared, and a shameful liquid flowed out of his eyes and mouth, making him lose the strength to support his body, and he fell on his knees. Kazuya is suffering, but I intend to use this gap to escape. I fully understood my indifference and ran away at the same time. Although it is not clear what happened in the end, there is only one thing I have to do, and that is to go to the first train car where Byakuya-sama is, and that's it.

Shinobu runs to the first wagon of the train, ignoring Suzuhiko who is calling for her. More incediary bombs fell, as she walked to the first car, but it was already burnt to a crsip. She tries to open the door of the wagon, but it’s locked by a padlock. Suzuhiko then steps forward and cuts a hole through the wagon door and Shinobu gets inside.

“Byakuya-sama!”

The train car had been burnt and the heat has reached dangerous levels. I walked quickly, but I couldn't see him anywhere. I thought he might have escaped from another door, but I tried to pull the door, it was locked by another padlock, but Byakuya-sama was gone. Byakuya-sama, Byakuya-sama, Byakuya-sama, Byakuya-sama... I called his name, but never found him. How could this be, he couldn't get out...

At that moment, I heard the roar of an engine. I suddenly had a strong sense of foresight and quickly jumped out of the first train car. I know, I know this, I know what will happen next, and after that too. Then, the Mercedes stopped at the side that I expected, and the window of the driver's seat did not open as I expected.

"Heyyy, rich kid! Need a lift?" [10]

The man in the driver's seat did not know why I looked so happy. "Hey, so where we goin’?"

There was no other choice.

I pulled the rear door and jumped into the Mercedes.

"Coming in!"

"Thank you, my pleasure, Miss."

The Mercedes darted forward as the throttle was pressed. I saw Suzuhiko run over at a frightening speed, but the man in the driver's seat said "BOOM-OFFFFF!"[10], pressed the skull button, and there was a jet engine behind the car increasing our speed. The landscape, the sky, the flames, and my brothers all disappeared in the violent acceleration, and I could not see anything with my dynamic vision or Borges.

While bumping about in the car, my memories felt like they were starting to see the Unreality of this situation.

<CHAPTER 11·End>

Translation Notes:

[1] Yokohama Station s a major interchange railway station in Nishi-ku, Yokohama, Japan. It is the busiest station in Kanagawa Prefecture and the fifth-busiest in the world as of 2013, serving 760 million passengers a year. 

[2] Kimitake Hiraoka known also under the pen name Yukio Mishima, was a Japanese author, poet, playwright, actor, model, film director, nationalist, and founder of the Tatenokai. Mishima is considered one of the most important Japanese authors of the 20th century. He was considered for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1968, but the award went to his countryman Yasunari Kawabata. His works in question here is Apollo’s Cup: a collection of many travel stories by Mishima in Europe, and lots about the food eaten there. Mishima's work is characterized by its luxurious vocabulary and decadent metaphors, its fusion of traditional Japanese and modern Western literary styles, and its obsessive assertions of the unity of beauty, eroticism and death Mishima's personal life was controversial, which makes him still a contested figure today. Ideologically a right wing nationalist, Mishima formed the Tatenokai, an unarmed civilian militia, for the avowed purpose of restoring power to the Japanese Emperor. On November 25, 1970, Mishima and four members of his militia entered a military base in central Tokyo, took the commandant hostage, and attempted to inspire the Japan Self-Defense Forces to overturn Japan's 1947 Constitution. When this was unsuccessful, Mishima committed seppuku.

[3] Wasn't sure if its Kasamori or Kasanori so we just went with Kasamori

[4] Sinking of Japan is a 2006 tokusatsu film directed by Shinji Higuchi. It is an adaptation of the novel Japan Sinks and a remake of the film Tidal Wave, both made in the year 1973.

[5] The title is something like “sitting on the bus” but I can't translate the names of the composer or lyricist, and can't find anything about it online either but it’s probably real.

[6] ‘Ai wo Torimodose!!’ is one of the openings to Fist of the North Star.

[7] RIP Taeko, you will be missed you glorious bastard.

[8] So Kazuya hates Suisei. All the more reason to hate Kazuya lol. Also RIP Suisei, you will be missed you glorious bastard.

[9] It translated as peridot not crimson but I doubt there was enough copper for that to happen.

[10] AAAAAAAA HIROYUKI IS BACK. The exact lines I changed a tiny bit to resemble two of his notable lines from the first book just for clarity. “Do you need a lift young master” and “I pressed it” honestly don’t do his character justice, so they were replaced.

To Be Continued.

https://drmedicsgamesurgery.tumblr.com/GameSurgeryDRTranslations

[deargodsno]

WHITEFISH, Mont. — Richard B. Spencer, the most infamous summer resident in this town, once boasted that he stood at the vanguard of a white nationalist movement emboldened by President Donald J. Trump. Things have changed.“ I have bumped into him, and he runs — that’s actually a really good feeling,” said Tanya Gersh, a real estate agent targeted in an antisemitic hate campaign that Andrew Anglin, the founder of the Daily Stormer, a neo-Nazi website, unleashed in 2016 after Mr. Spencer’s mother made online accusations against Ms. Gersh. Leaders in Whitefish say Mr. Spencer, who once ran his National Policy Institute from his mother’s $3 million summer house here, is now an outcast in this resort town in the Rocky Mountains, unable to get a table at many of its restaurants. His organization has dissolved. Meanwhile, his wife has divorced him, and he is facing trial next month in Charlottesville, Va., over his role in the deadly 2017 neo-Nazi march there, but says he cannot afford a lawyer.

The turn of events is no accident. Whitefish, a mostly liberal, affluent community nestled in a county that voted for Mr. Trump in 2016 and 2020, rose up and struck back. Residents who joined with state officials, human rights groups and synagogues say their bipartisan counteroffensive could hold lessons for others in an era of disinformation and intimidation, and in the wake of the Jan. 6 Capitol riot.

“The best way to respond to hate and cyberterrorism in your community is through solidarity,” said Rabbi Francine Green Roston of the Glacier Jewish Community/B’nai Shalom, who now lectures other groups on how to ward off hate campaigns like the one Whitefish endured. “Another big principle is to take threats seriously, and prepare for the worst.” Mayor John Muhlfeld agreed, “You have to act swiftly and decisively and come together as a community to tackle hate and make sure it doesn’t infiltrate your town,” he said. On Saturday, Mr. Spencer said he kept a “very low profile” in Whitefish, and though he had been denied service in local establishments in the past, “I don’t have any anxiety dealing with anyone.” He said he does not run from Ms. Gersh and understood why people would be angry with him. “I don’t want any battles with them here in Whitefish,” he continued, “and I hope they take a similar attitude, that it’s best to move on.” His mother, Sherry Spencer, did not respond to requests for comment.

Advice and an Accusation

The trouble in Whitefish started after Mr. Trump’s victory in the 2016 election that November. Mr. Spencer, who had called his white nationalist movement a “vanguard” for Mr. Trump, delivered a racially charged speech at his institute’s conference in Washington, his words greeted by Nazi salutes. Video of the address went viral. In Whitefish, residents discussed protesting in front of a downtown commercial building owned by Mr. Spencer’s mother.

Ms. Gersh said Ms. Spencer had called her.“She flat-out asked me, ‘Tanya, I don’t believe in my son’s ideology,’” Ms. Gersh recalled over coffee in her office downtown. “‘I’m heartbroken that this is hurting Whitefish. What should I do?’” “I said: ‘Sherry, if this were my son, I would go ahead and sell the building. I would donate some money to something like the Human Rights Network to make a statement, and publish that you don’t believe in the ideologies of your son.’ And she said: ‘Thank you, Tanya. That’s exactly what I should do.’”Ms. Gersh said she had arranged to sell the property without making any profit. But a short time later, she said, Ms. Spencer sent an email saying she had changed her mind about working with Ms. Gersh. Ms. Gersh supplied names of other real estate agents.Two weeks later, in December 2016, Ms. Spencer posted an article on the open publishing platform Medium accusing Ms. Gersh of using the threat of protests to blackmail her into selling. Mr. Spencer said on Saturday that he and his former wife had written the article published under his mother’s name. He repeated their claims against Ms. Gersh, adding that she had called his mother, not the other way around. The Spencers’ accusations quickly reverberated among the far right. Mr. Anglin of the Daily Stormer exhorted his “fam” online to “TAKE ACTION” to defend Ms. Spencer.

Ms. Gersh arranged to sell a commercial property in downtown Whitefish owned by the mother of Richard B. Spencer, who once said he stood at the vanguard of a white nationalist movement emboldened by President Donald J. Trump.

He shared personal information and the social media accounts of Ms. Gersh and her family, including her son, then 12. A post in which Mr. Anglin encouraged his followers to “stop by and tell her in person what you think of her actions” was the first of some 30 articles he published targeting the Gersh family and the Jewish community in Whitefish, according to a lawsuit Ms. Gersh filed in 2017 against Mr. Anglin in U.S. District Court in Montana.Ms. Gersh received hundreds of text messages, emails and Christmas cards threatening her. Her voice mail filled up several times a day. Hateful comments about Ms. Gersh appeared on real estate websites. Homeowners were afraid to list with her.

The campaign swept in Rabbi Roston, another area rabbi, Allen Secher, and his wife, Ina Albert, and any Whitefish residents and business owners the trolls believed were Jewish.

At one point, Rabbi Roston realized one of the anonymous antagonists was the father of her son’s best friend. Her family did not confront the man, who has since moved away. “He had a lot of guns,” she said.Mr. Anglin next announced a march on Whitefish, planned for Martin Luther King’s Birthday in 2017. An ad for the event depicted the gates of the Auschwitz death camp with photos of Ms. Gersh, her son, Rabbi Roston and the other rabbi’s wife superimposed.The march was planned to end at the Gersh home.‘A Full Plan in Place’ Whitefish and Montana mobilized.Montana’s governor, attorney general and congressional delegation issued a bipartisan open letter, making it clear “that ignorance, hatred and threats of violence are unacceptable and have no place in the town of Whitefish, or in any other community in Montana or across this nation.” The governor at the time, Steve Bullock, wrote editorials condemning the antisemitic campaign and met with the families in Rabbi Roston’s home.As tensions rose in Whitefish, Mr. Spencer and his parents made public statements distancing themselves from the march and from Mr. Anglin. Behind the scenes, the police and the federal authorities readied themselves for a potentially violent event.Mr. Muhlfeld, the mayor, said that the town had not refused Mr. Anglin a special event permit but that Mr. Anglin had not met the town’s conditions, including a prohibition on firearms.

“If you asked, ‘Do you think they’re going to show up?’ they were like, ‘Nah,’ but they had a full plan in place,” Rabbi Roston said. “If you look at Jan. 6, the quickness with which people wrote off threats was dangerous,” she added.

The Anti-Defamation League, the Southern Poverty Law Center and the Secure Community Network, the official safety and security organization of the North American Jewish community, advised residents on what to do.As a result, Ms. Gersh did not speak publicly about her ordeal at the time. Rabbi Roston kept a low profile, discouraging coverage in the Jewish news media to protect the congregation and avoid giving attackers the attention they craved. The congregation did not cancel its Hanukkah party in December 2016 but moved it from the rabbi’s home to the conference room of a motel, with two armed security guards at the door. On each table, the rabbi placed a pile of supportive letters that had arrived from around the nation.Volunteers distributed thousands of paper menorahs. “There were menorahs in every window in Whitefish,” Ms. Gersh said. An anti-hate rally drew 600 participants in zero-degree weather. On the eve of the neo-Nazi march, Rabbi Roston helped organize a chicken and matzo ball soup get-together for 350 people at the middle school in Whitefish, in a demonstration of unity and appreciation. On Martin Luther King’s Birthday — Monday, Jan. 16 — not a single neo-Nazi turned up to march. “We could say they chickened out,” Rabbi Roston joked.In April, Ms. Gersh, represented by the Southern Poverty Law Center, filed suit against Mr. Anglin for invasion of privacy, intentional infliction of emotional distress and violations of Montana’s Anti-Intimidation Act. In 2019, she won $14 million in damages. A team of lawyers is still searching for Mr. Anglin and his assets. The trial in the Charlottesville case, Sines v. Kessler, begins on Oct. 25. A group of victims and counterprotesters filed suit against Mr. Anglin as well as Mr. Spencer, along with nearly two dozen people and groups involved in the “Unite the Right” rally, after a neo-Nazi at the Charlottesville march plowed his car into a crowd of counterprotesters, killing Heather Heyer, 32, and injuring at least 19 others.

Mr. Spencer’s lawyer withdrew from the case last year because he had not been paid. “Due to deplatforming efforts against me, it is very difficult for me to raise money as other citizens are able to,” Mr. Spencer told the judge in a pretrial hearing in 2020. He is now representing himself. As the trial approaches, the case has generated a number of contempt-related fines and sanctions against the defendants.“ After four years of so little accountability, it’s important to make clear that accountability matters and it works,” said Amy Spitalnick, the executive director of Integrity First for America, the nonprofit group that brought the lawsuit.Separately, in May, a federal judge in Ohio ordered Mr. Spencer’s National Policy Institute to pay $2.4 million to William Burke, a counterprotester who was severely injured in Charlottesville. Mr Muhlfeld said he had last seen Mr. Spencer in 2019, skiing at the mountain resort. “He walked into the Summit House and summarily was booed by pretty much everyone,” Mr. Muhlfeld said, referring to a restaurant there. “Richard Spencer wanted this to be his happy vacation place where he could play and have fun, and people would just live and let live,” Rabbi Roston said. “Then he started suffering social consequences for his hatred. ”Ms. Gersh said that she had been afraid to work again after the hate campaign, but that after Charlottesville, “I knew that I had to go back to work because if I didn’t, they win.”

She keeps a photo of Ms. Heyer on her desk and bear spray in its drawer.

[blueberry-blast]

the most popular guy in my lair + the weird old fae who follows him around

and their army of child soldier grandchildren.

[killingthebuddha]

KOCHI, India — When I get to the goddess temple, the last thing I want is to meet a public relations officer.

I’ve traveled from Los Angeles to India to report on religion and politics in the country’s looming 2019 elections. A couple days into my short, university-funded trip, a country called the “land of stories” has produced nothing but dead ends.

At the 800-year-old Chottanikkara Devi Temple outside the city of Kochi, I expect to interview a government official. The state of Kerala uses temple management boards to oversee publicly owned Hindu worship centers. I need a high-ranking board member to comment on a religious controversy at another site. Instead, I get handed off to Meena Jayraj, a spokesperson.

She reminds me of a former boss when I produced P.R. videos several jobs ago. Jayraj is wise from years of experience and skilled with people. That’s what scares me. I worry she’ll mind-trick me into puff pieces, and I’m already losing confidence in the story I came to cover. It’s my own fault. Overly ambitious and underprepared, I’m struggling to find my way in Kerala, the one place in south India I don’t have any extended family.

Jayraj invites me to lunch in the dining hall. I don’t have time for this, but it’s bad luck to refuse prasad, temple food. The red matta rice and creamy sambar soup on my plate have already been offered before an image of the goddess, seeking her blessings. This meal is holy. And now my journalism is in conflict with my Hinduism.

Jayraj tells me the temple lore. I’m still on guard. But it becomes clear she believes every word she’s saying. Judging by the lines of devotees filing in and out of lunch, she doesn’t need my help to promote temple tourism.

In the legends of the Chottanikkara village, multiple images of the devi, or goddess, self-manifested where the temple now stands. At the large religious complex, stone walkways and wooden structures connect and mark these sacred spots. Depending on the time of day, temple-goers worship the central statue as Saraswathi, Lakshmi or Durga, three aspects of one supreme being, the female God in the Shakti branch of Hinduism.

Like the goddess with many names, the state of Kerala juggles its identities. With its secular politics and a public education system producing a 93 percent literacy rate, religion still thrives in the state. Reason and faith coexist here.

The appeal of the Chottanikkara temple has only grown in recent years. Visitors flock here from neighboring states and from the U.S., the U.K. and Australia, according to Jayraj and other temple authorities. Even non-Hindus, who aren’t allowed in the inner sanctum, can sit in the outer courtyard and pay the temple priests to perform the guruthi pooja. Why would they do this? The nightly ceremony is said to cure mental illnesses. When conventional medicine and therapy fail, some turn to the goddess.

Two minutes into lunch, Jayraj says something to make me stop chewing mid-mouthful. “Come back tonight,” she says. Through her glasses, her eyes are steady, her neck anchored toward me. “And all your negative thoughts will go away.”

I can’t decide if she means the generic “you,” as in anyone’s negative thoughts, or if she’s reading my mind. Does my face give away my frustrations as a reporter? As a 40-something grad student making a mid-career shift?

Depression, the main problem (along with schizophrenia) that’s treated at Chottanikkara, runs in my family. I think I’ve avoided that gene. I am discouraged, maybe, but not depressed.

If anything, I suffer, however mildly, from a half-remembered sadness common to Asian Americans, what Neo-Freudian cultural theorists call “racial melancholia.” Disconnected from the “motherland,” I feel like a guest in someone else’s house, wherever I am.

How can a temple fix that, except as a diversion?

I follow Jayraj to her office across from the main shrine and ask her how the devi helps people with mental health issues. She gives a recent example.

A few weeks ago, a twenty-year-old woman arrived from Bangalore with her mother and father. The parents told Jayraj their daughter was hearing voices and had stopped eating. Psychiatric treatment hadn’t helped, they said. The woman was about to drop out of medical school.

Five days in the temple changed everything, Jayraj says. On the priest’s orders, the woman woke at 3:30 every morning and followed a regimen of chanting, prayer and meditation, ending with the guruthi pooja each night. Now, she’s a “new person” and, most importantly to her Indian parents, back in college. They’ve called Jayraj twice to thank her, she says.

Over the course of the afternoon, I hear similar stories from temple priests and volunteers, but I have to see the guruthi pooja for myself.

“I’ll come back another night,” I tell Jayraj on my way out, still thinking I have better, more urgent leads to follow elsewhere.

*

Devotees gather in the evening after visiting Durga in the main temple. (Photo by Krishna Narayanamurti)

When I return, I wait in line to enter the inner sanctum. Adorned in a white sari, the golden statue of Durga waits at the end of the walkway. A warm smile runs across her sculpted face. I’m told this is her maternal form, blessing believers with her grace.

But as darkness falls, Durga has a fierce twin at the far end of the temple.

I descend a sloping staircase to a separate shrine for Bhadra Kali, an alter ego of the goddess, where the guruthi pooja will take place.

In myths, both Durga and Kali fight to defend heaven and earth. But Kali is the more violent and morally ambiguous warrior. She slays demons that the male gods cannot handle and demands blood sacrifices from her devotees.

Kali’s idol is smaller than Durga’s. A wide space in front is fenced off for tonight’s ceremony. Through the dim lamp light and the distance, I can’t see her face clearly. I think she’s scowling, but maybe I’m projecting my expectations onto her.

Every evening, the doorways to the shrines are opened so that the Durga and Kali statues can gaze at each other across the temple complex. A divine face-off, the two halves of the goddess balance their peaceful and warlike energies, according to devotees.

I sit cross-legged on the floor to the left of the Kali shrine. The families paying for the ceremony are front and center. At 8:30, the proceedings get underway, but only 40 of us are present. That number will grow to a couple hundred by the end of the evening. Even at sacred events, Indians like to show up late.

A man draped in a salmon-colored dhoti leads the audience in the “Lakshmi Narayana” hymn, a litany of the goddess’s nicknames. I find out later the singer’s name is Bhaskar. With no formal training, he sounds like a fusion of James Taylor and Stevie Wonder. The CDs of religious music sold at temples never sound this good. The singers never hit the mids and highs with this much range. Bhaskar needs his own record deal, or at least a booking agent.

After each verse, the crowd joins Bhaskar for the chorus:

“Amme Narayana, Devi Narayana, Lakshmi Narayana, Badre Narayana.”

These divine names pair the goddess with her husband Vishnu (“Narayana”) and praise her in four manifestations: Amme, the mother of all life; Devi, protector of the world; Lakshmi, provider of wealth and knowledge; and Badre, destroyer of the universe.

The call-and-response lasts a half-hour, while assistant priests set up a variety of tall and short deepas, pointy brass candle holders. They add ghee, or clarified  butter, to keep the flames at a steady blaze. A banana tree stands inside a square pit to the left of the platform. Behind the pit, an offering of coconuts, rice and small fruits rest on beds of banana leaves.

So far, the ceremony doesn’t feel that different from the typical Vedic rituals for the male gods—a lot of chanting, lighting lamps and offering flowers or food. For sure, the music relaxes and soothes me. But how does that help people with more serious, deep-rooted problems?

When the singing ends, the mood changes. I realize that we must be done worshipping the goddess in her “peaceful mother” form. It’s Kali’s turn.

Two men with beards running down to their chests walk out and sit by seven large copper pots, staggered on the ground in front of the shrine.

The head priest is the older and grayer of the two men. Lines of white ash and a red circle of kumkum powder mark his forehead. He looks like a mystic from an Indian comic book. He’s not messing around.

He begins to manipulate the items around the pot, snapping twigs in a fluid motion. In between, he washes his hands and ceremonial instruments with water from a large conch. Unlike the prayer services I’m used to, the priests say and chant nothing, or if they do, their lips don’t move.

The elder priest starts to offer the contents of the copper pots into the pit by his feet. Each vessel is filled with guruthi, a mixture of water, red dye, dirt and flowers, meant to mimic the flesh and blood of the animals that Kannappa, the medieval forest dweller believed to have founded the Chottanikkara village, would offer to Kali.

In one myth, Kannappa wants to sacrifice a baby doe, his daughter’s pet. The daughter asks him to stop killing animals and offers herself in the doe’s place. Kannappa relents, but soon after, both his daughter and the deer pass away mysteriously. Later, two stones representing the goddess Lakshmi and her husband Vishnu appear in the spot where the child and animal had died. Today, these stones are cordoned off and worshipped in a corner of the temple.

Bhaskar, the singer, may have disappeared, but the night’s music is far from done. A band of percussionists takes over. Three tabla drummers and a cymbalist begin a slow, staccato rhythm while the priest continues to stir and offer portions of the pot to the fire. It’s like experimental music, purposely disorienting, but I start to get into it. The elaborate performance of it all is new territory for me, but old for India; this is a Tantric ritual of conjuring and summoning.

From the crowd of people to my right, screams and cries of women pierce through the music. A young woman in a blue sari sways where she sits among the families who have sponsored the pooja. Near her, a middle-aged woman in purple stands up and thrashes her long, curly hair in a circle. Another woman dances with her eyes closed. Things are getting weird. Has Kali taken over, chasing the spirits out of these women?

On other trips to India, I’ve seen people in a trance, claiming possession by gods or goddesses. It was terrifying. I’m not close enough to these women to look in their eyes, to test their conviction, or my own.

The drumming accelerates to the point of frenzy.

My pulse is many beats behind. Somehow, all the excitement calms me down. My mind, normally restless, is locked into the music and the screams. The anxiety and pressure I began my trip with has moved outside of me.

Another thirty minutes pass. Two more performers come out and blow a pair of horns on bowstrings. The drumming comes to a crescendo as the priest’s surgical movements quicken. He empties the remaining pots with a fury, hurling the mud and red water into the pit until all the contents have been dumped out. A drop of red paste splatters on my leg. I taste it. No flavor.

The twirling, thrashing and screaming women have gone quiet. They’re hidden behind their families and the onlookers crowding around, anxious to get the prasad from the pooja. I don’t know if the women are “cured” or if they still have more work to do at the temple.

Across the way, I see a girl in white, maybe 11 or 12 years old. A spectator like me, she doesn’t stand with the people who sponsored the event. She is sobbing — howling really, like a coyote caught in a bear trap. Either she is traumatized, or she’s feeling the secondhand effects of the therapy, an emotional release.

Afterwards, Anil Namboodiri, one of the temple priests, tells me “you have to stay for five days” for the full experience.

I ask him if the pooja is only for women. Can boys and men benefit as well?

“Sure,” he says, “you can sit for it, if you’re having mental problems.“

I assume he’s teasing me. I say “OK” with a smirk.

He corrects me sharply. “Don’t laugh. You could have them.”

Like Meena Jayraj, he’s either a telepath or an exceptional marketer.

Negative thoughts can easily penetrate the subconscious, Namboodiri tells me. Most problems come from the outside, when we let other people manipulate us, he says.

In a “land of stories,” I know I should investigate and interrogate what I’m hearing, following the way of the Western academic, the way of the journalist. For a while, I leave it alone.

*

Later, I call up Seema Lal, a Kochi-based psychologist, looking for any science to supplement my Hindu faith. Lal suggests that, on the one hand, a lot of temples promote these cures now, and it can become a way to make money. On the other hand, many people have said the routine and ritual at Chottanikkara made them feel better, and the results matter more than their reasons. In a 2017 study, other psychologists have concluded that Chottanikkara’s methods can be an effective part of a holistic approach to mental health issues.

Praying and chanting “is not causing physical harm,” Lal says, “and it’s cheaper than medicine, so why not?”

I ask Lal about the women in a trance state. Was that real?

The external stimuli from the music and ritual action can bring about a catharsis in the patient, Lal explains. For women in very traditional, repressive families, it might be a chance to express themselves freely, since the goddess will take the credit (or the blame).

“Suddenly, you get this freedom to just be,” Lal says. “Some people find it very liberating.”

As a man who grew up in a laissez-faire house in suburban New Jersey, my experience of the ritual can’t test Lal’s theory. But that night I still felt the power of Kali-Durga, the balance of chaos and order, the longing and love from a community of believers in a doubtful present.

Maybe it was dumb luck that the political story that brought me to Chottanikkara never panned out. Maybe it was the goddess, calling me home.

[blueberry-blast]

Post GrandFest, someone got a lil too silly & forgot their sunscreen in all the excitement

[blueberry-blast]

For the future!!!

[blueberry-blast]

Ready for Splatoween!