#we are more alike than different! we should be united in this!! one experience does not negate the other!!!

[tealfruit]

if you think that someone complaining about the (very real) oppression of trans men must hate trans women that says a lot more about your own beliefs than it does the person you're accusing

[arbitrarygreay]

Fanfic Alder is a curious creature. Authors are so hung up on the immortality and hierarchy of it all, so somehow fanon Alder is cold and stiff and humorless, doesn't apologize, is awkward around people, etc. She warmly blesses the fosterlings in episode 2 of the show, and the very first thing she does when meeting with the Hague is crack a joke while saying sorry for being late. And nothing to mention of which she demonstrates the full blast of her Lyne Renee charisma several times, to strangers and acquaintances alike. If anything, her problem is that she slips into passionate speeches too much, when not knowing what to say might have been better (e.g. after General Clary lost her daughter to the Spree in episode 2). Petra is the only one who implies to her that she had stopped being human, but she's an extremely unreliable narrator with an agenda. Alder being heavyhanded with her authority (being corrupted by power) is arguably the most human instinct. In a lot of respects, Alder's sin was that she wasn't inhuman enough (which was rectified by becoming an agent of mushroom the next season lawl). Even as a mushroom, she's at ease in her "skin", from shrugging off Elayne's song to her comfortable meeting with the Marshal. (I am pretty sure that the nachos were more about trolling than just personal enjoyment.) One moment that might support the "awkward Alder" interpretation is when she was surprised by the intensity of the NOD protest at the opening of the testing centers. But even then, she immediately recovers to deliver her expert political schmoozing to the cameras over their yells. Another case seems to be that Alder does valorize glory (or she tries to impart a culture of valorizing glory to the conscripts), and we do see an example of a character who drinks that Kool-aid being awkward frequently: Abigail! But the difference is, Abigail was awkward because she didn't yet have experience to back up the rhetoric when someone like Adil punctured it. Alder doesn't have that problem, such as when confronted with Khalida. Khalida has to just railroad her instead of actually addressing her points (and we see that Khalida and Adil will ultimately concede those points with their actions when the rubber meets the road). Which gets me deep into the "defending Alder" weeds, because I noticed that people (in the show) rarely ever challenged Alder with, um, facts and logic? Which is to say, Alder's authority in the present time is backed up with All Of The Experience. When people argue with her, they should have real empirical evidence to contradict that, but they almost never do. So it's like, no wonder Alder gets so annoyed with her antagonists, when they're all such shit debaters? (With the two noticeable exceptions being Anacostia and Tally in S2, the former when Alder is clearly jerking her around between ops to affirm her loyalty, and the latter when she talks back to Alder to bring her unit on the Nicte mission. Both of them argue their cases with principles, not just a vague "your attitude annoys me" sneer. That's why their eventual disobedience rings true, instead of being power plays. They were pursuing truth, not position.) I think what rubs me wrong about fanon Alder is that the configuration of when any potential awkward happens is backwards. The fanfic always imagines that Alder doesn't know how not to be the General, that she would be at her most uncomfortable during peacetime. But in canon, the opposite is true. Alder only goes off the rails when threatened by loss (loss of her family, her soldiers, her power which she has mentally linked with her ability to protect). Not only does she have a large comfort zone attending social events, in episode 4 she emphasizes how the holidays are NOT meant to be a military tactic, but sacred. She doesn't make her mistakes absent intense conflict (unless you count her designating Bellweather unit as war meat in revenge against Petra and Wade's power play, but such pettiness still falls under being more human than less).

[mishafletcher]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.

First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 

Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.

The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.

This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 

You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.

Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.

There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?

Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.

There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 

Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.

Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.

Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.

I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.

In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 

Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.

Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.

Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.

This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.

Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.

The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 

[animepopheart]

Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 11: “The Temptation of Death”?

Wonder Egg Priority is a beautiful, uncomfortable, moving and confusing series that starts out engaging all the things we don’t talk about—self-harm, abuse, rape, bullying, gender dysmorphia, and homosexuality, to name a few. Our silence and blindness to these issues have a weight and pressure to them, and WEP shows how this reinforces the isolation and hopelessness of the young women of the “eggs” who turn to suicide for relief. The first ten episodes have been exhilarating and exhausting alike.

And then there is Episode 11. This past week, the series took a bit of a turn, leaning hard into the sci-fi-philosophical, with appearances from Greek gods, a murderous artificial intelligence, and really, really disturbing insect girls, one of whom, despite being a brutal killer, is apparently a vegetarian. Has the show gone off the rails? Has it lost its way in departing from the familiar procedural approach of engaging a differing social or mental health issue with each episode?

Such a critique is perfectly legit, but before you write off the penultimate episode of WEP, just hear me out on why the abstract, meta turn in episode 11 may just be the most valuable thing this series has to offer so far.

Before we begin though, a little recap of what we learned this week. In episode 10, we hear the eggheads, Acca and Ura-Acca, discuss the need for warriors of Eros to battle Thanatos. This is our first hint that things are about to get lore-full and maybe a bit weird. Eros and Thanatos are of course gods in the ancient Greek pantheon, Eros being the god of love, and Thanatos, of non-violent death. Within the first minute or so of episode 11, it’s clear that the eggheads’ hope is now focused on Ai becoming the long-awaited warrior. At this point though, rather than continuing with Ai’s story, the episode shifts into flashback mode and we are finally introduced to the villain, an artificial intelligence created by the eggheads back when they were still human. Their lives gradually come to revolve around her: She is the fulfillment of their obsession to create life, and she is good.

Frill is associated with hydrangeas, which symbolise heartlessness and pride in Japanese flower language. But is it her heartlessness and pride, or that of her makers?

(Atelier Emily has done an outstanding series of posts on the flowers in WEP. Check it out!)

Only, it turns out she doesn’t play so nice when others join the happy family. After killing Acca’s wife, and putting the life of the unborn baby at risk, the AI—who named herself Frill—is unrepentant, all traces of her seeming humanity now revealed to be illusory, a mere affectation. Acca locks her away in a hole in the cellar. Years pass. The baby, Himari, grows up and is a ray of sunshine. But after effectively confessing to her ‘uncle’ (why does anime always do this?), she commits suicide. Ura-Acca discovers that Frill is still very much alive and active from her hole in the cellar, having powered up all the discarded monitors and laid down reams of electrical cables—to what end, we do not yet know. Though Ura-Acca surmises that she has somehow influenced Himari to take her own life. How else would the girl have known about Ura-Acca’s admiration for her mother? Where else would she have learned to make what will forever be to me now that uncannily sinister popping sound?

Here’s where it gets weirder. Unlike the suicides of subsequent egg girls, there is no indication that Himari, Frill’s apparent first victim, struggled with any mental health or other issues that would motivate her to take her own life. Indeed, her ‘uncle’ did not even reject her confession. (Again anime, why you do this thing?) Instead, the eggheads explain Himari’s suicide as being on account of the “temptation of death.” What now?

This is implying that death is somehow attractive, not just to someone facing overwhelming brokenness, trauma or pain, like the egg girls we’ve met so far, but to someone on the verge of stepping from a (relatively) happy childhood into young adulthood, with the promise of potential love to look forward to; someone who has not known suffering, but rather only smiles and cake. (To be fair, it is always possible that she experienced trauma in the womb, or was more deeply affected by her father’s sadness than Ura-Acca’s memories belie.)

That’s my question too, Ai.

The notion of death as somehow attractive or even beautiful is rather alien to Western culture. Certainly, there will always be some who romanticize death, à la star-crossed lovers (Shakespeare, I’m looking at you). But in general, Western culture views death as something ugly and frightening, something to avoid until it is staring you directly in the face, and even then, closing your eyes in denial is a perfectly reasonable response. Death is one of those things we don’t talk about. In my experience, Anglo-American culture is not very good at even mourning death. We lack the grieving rituals and observances of other cultures, and instead seek to confine death to the sealed, sanitized spaces of hospitals, care homes, and funeral parlors. We keep it shrouded tightly in silence. How could there ever be anything like the “temptation of death”? How could we ever consider death to be something desirable? Are the eggheads or CloverWorks simply aestheticising suicide and death here to make it sound deep and philosophical?

No, I don’t think that’s it. Instead, Acca and Ura-Acca are doing what all good researchers do—and indeed what all Christians, as believers in an unseen spiritual reality, are also called to do: They are looking more deeply into phenomena that seem, on the surface, to already be explained. The two idol fans were consumed with their obsession, so when their idol killed herself, they followed suit. The young woman whose identity was wrapped up in her own appearance ended her life to preserve her beauty. The abused gymnast saw no way out, no hope in ever living free from torment. Some explanations may be more sympathetic than others, but they all possess their own internal logic. Contemporary society is full of a vast array of pressures and stresses and each one, taken to breaking point, can result in death. Case closed. This might very well be our conclusion from the first ten episodes.

Only the case isn’t closed. Because there is a question that has pervaded every episode until now, but has remained unspoken: How is it that death could even become an option for the egg girls? Why does reaching a breaking point trigger suicide? What made death seem like a savior to these girls? This is the question that episode 11 tackles, in its own admittedly obscure way. The eggheads are focused on the underlying, deeper reality that unites all the eggs’ stories, as disparate as they are—the common thread, which is the idea that death is a release, a rescue, a beautiful ending, and as a result, it is tempting.

“But we wondered if there could be another push that drove them to suicide,” explains Ura-Acca.

This is a really important question for us to be asking. Because it’s not just these traumatized, vulnerable girls who fall for the seduction of death. We do, too.

Just ponder for a moment: Have you ever anticipated how wonderful it will be when, in heaven, you no longer struggle with that particular temptation? When your temper is no longer so short, when you’re not afraid of being hurt anymore? Or maybe you think about how one day, on those gold-paved streets, you won’t have to worry anymore. All your hard work coping and just keeping it together will finally pay off and you’ll cross that finish line and heave a sigh of relief, knowing that you made it in the end. Have you ever contemplated these kinds of things? I know I have.

But here’s the thing: When I expect my liberation to come only after I die and not right here, right now, then it is not Jesus who is my savior, but death. I am waiting for death to free me from temptation and sin and fear and brokenness, and usher me into eternal life. I make Thanatos my god.

The temptation of death is not limited to the drastic act of suicide, but also permeates all the accusations and fears that inspire us to put off living the fullness of life in Christ here and now. It’s the temptation to believe that it is death that will ultimately solve the more difficult and painful problems in life.

Acca and Ura-Acca seek to create a love that suits their ideals, just to relieve their stress.

The source of this “temptation of death” in Wonder Egg Priority is Frill, the AI. That is, a man-made, artificial version of love—with ai meaning “love” in Japanese. According to Ura-Acca, they made her “just for fun,” as a way of dealing with the stress of their enclosed lives. They designed her to suit their preferences, to make it easier to love her and forget that she was artificial. In this sense, Frill is the fruit of their self-centeredness, her every characteristic designed to satisfy their own ideals of how a daughter and woman should be. And this artificial love born of selfishness brings death into their midst and beyond, spreading it through the horrendous deformities of girlhood that she in turn creates, in imitation of her fathers. (Only perhaps her creations are less deceptive than theirs, wearing their monstrosity plainly on the outside…)

Frill’s creations. We’ve met Dash (right) and Dot (center), but who is that on the left? And is her name Morse??

To counter her destructive influence, Acca and Ura-Acca need true love, a genuine love. They need Ai, a messy, at times very weak human being, but one who nevertheless is willing to fight to live up to her name and maybe, just maybe, become a warrior of Eros.

There is also a deep, underlying force at work in our world, one that connects all despair and the actions born of it. A wide range of social issues, traumas and mental health challenges can and do trigger suicide, but they do not explain it fully. The deeper reality is the existence of an enemy who seeks to manipulate us into believing our true savior can only be death, whether it is right away by our own hand, or more subtly, decades from now by natural causes. But this is a lie, and it is one that we can combat. Just as I’m sure we’ll see in the final episode that Ai is equipped to wage the coming battle in WEP, so too are we armed, here and now, with the power to overwhelm the enemy’s “temptation of death”—we possess already the words of life, given to us by our true savior.

Jesus began his ministry with a public announcement that he had come to heal heart wounds, comfort those in pain, fill broken lives with beauty, and wrap those in despair with reasons to praise like a warm protective blanket, so that they might celebrate with joy once again. He came to bring freedom to prisoners and captives alike, giving a fresh new life to those locked up because of deeds done wrong, and those punished and injured at the hands of others. He came to take the outcasts, the weak, the traumatized and broken and transform them into mighty oaks, clean and strong; into people with the vision and skill and compassion and fortitude to rebuild a broken world (Isaiah 61:1-4, Luke 4:18),

He came to rewrite and restore our experience of life here on earth, and through us, to redeem our communities, cities, nations, and the world. God does not withhold the fullness of life from us until we finally make it to him in heaven. No, instead he moved heaven and earth to get right up close so that he could pour his own life out into us, even going so far as to breathe his very spirit into our hearts and bodies and minds. We don’t need to wait for death’s rescue—our hero has already come. But we do need to remind each other and ourselves of this truth pretty often, and let it work down deep into all the cracks and bruises in our souls until it strengthens all our weak spots.

In Deuteronomy 30:19, God tells the Israelites that he has given them the authority to choose between life and death. But he also tips the balances in their favor, urging them to choose life. In Jesus, he comes to tip the balances even further, making it possible for us to step into eternal life here and now, immediately and forever. So let’s do it. Each day, through each struggle we face. Let’s choose life and not death.

Warrior of love? And is Ai’s himawari (sunflower) related to Himari somehow?

Join me (in spirit) for the final episode on Tuesday to see Ai’s love triumph! (At least, I really really hope that’s what happens!)

[fgodump]

Connections to “The Poppy War”

The setting and characters to The Poppy War has derived a lot of inspiration from historical events and myths alike. This is meant to discuss which characters have a relation to those preexisting. Of course, you do not need to know this information to enjoy the books, but I think knowing them will elevate your reading experience. None of this information is official. This is just the conclusions I came to while reading. Feel free to make comments

MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ALL BOOKS

Locations

Nikara: Qing Dynasty. 

Mugen: Japan (Meiji Period)

Hesperia: Britain

The Hinterlands: Mongolia (unsure)

Murui: Yellow River

Tianshan: Kunlun

The different provinces were based off the Chinese Zodiac

The Poppy Wars: the Opium wars, as they have the heavy involvement of foreign invaders

Fang Runin: Rin’s character does not seem to take from a specific person, however the wiki stats that she was inspired by multiple people, such as Azula from ATLA and Mao Zedong

Chen Kitay: It's pretty obvious his character is inspired by Zhuge Liang in Romance of the Three kingdoms. In actual history, he wasn't that much, but in the book, Zhuge was a monster at strategy. 

In the first book, Irjah proposes a question, which Kitay replies “to bait the enemy into giving them arrows by rolling out a boat of strawmen”. This is something that Zhuge did as well.

Sring Venka: Honestly I'm blanking on Venka. I think perhaps Venka isnt supposed to represent a character at all, but instead all the comfort women and victims of the Rape of Nanking, based on what happened to her during Golyn niis. 

Yang Souji: He and his group the “Iron Wolves” remind me so much of the Shinsengumi. He even shares a name with Okita Souji, the captain of the first unit. 

The Shinsungumi were also nicknamed “The wolves of Mibu”

I know the glaring problem with this is that the Shisungumi are Japanese, and should have been Mugini in this book, but I think these parallels are pretty cool in any case.

Chiang Moag- Ching Shih. Woah, as soon as I heard Lady Pirate, it was undeniable who Moag is. Ching Shih, the most famous pirate in China perhaps, and she was a woman.

Their backstories share similarities too. Ching shih was a prostitute, just like rumors around Moag. 

The Cike: During the Zhou Dynasty, Wu Zetian (China’s only female emperor) had a secret police force that assassinated everyone she needed. This sounds incredibly similar to the way Daji used the Cike. 

Altan Trengsin: I believe that Altan is like Rin; either an amalgamation of many characters or simply someone Kuang made for the sake of the story.

Ramsa: I believe him to be Nikara’s representation of the creation of fireworks. Not based off a person, but instead one of the Four great inventions of China. Or maybe I’m looking too far into it lol, since he doesn't strike me as being inspired from a myth, since he is not a shaman

Baji: Zhu Bajie of Journey to the West. Based on his description and his name, I had him guessed before they even said anything about pig.

His weapon is even the same as Bajie’s, a nine-toothed rake. 

He also shares his desires, both of them being lusty for beautiful women

Suni: Sun Wukong. I had him guessed by his name as well. Although I believe the connection to be true, I cannot help but feel disappointed that the avatar of Sun Wukong was killed off so easily

The traits that these two characters share are pretty different, much more different than Baji had Bajie. 

For one, Suni is generally calm when he is not being taken over by his god, and is pretty gentle and nice actually. This is very unlike Sun Wukong, and also the reason why I think Suni was a bad body for Wukong to take over, since I think their desires do not match up like Rin and Phoenix

Aratasha: The last in the trio, Sha Wujing. I was confused at first, since Aratasha is no fighter, but I realized his name sounds incredibly similar to Sha Wujing. Wujing was a sand river demon in JTTW, so I don’t think it was a stretch to believe that Aratasha was based off of him (his god is a river god, after all)

Plus, Aratasha died before Baji and Suni did. Wujing in JTTW was weaker than both of his companions. 

Chaghan and Qara Suren: This may be a stretch, but I think Chaghan was inspired from Genghis khan. Gengis Kahn united the Mongols, like Chaghan united the Ketreids and Naimads. Even though the time period would be centuries apart (Genghis 1206, Qing Dynasty 1644-1912), it is the most likely option. It is unrecorded whether Gengis had any sisters, so I believe that Qara was made for the sake of plot (anchor). 

Yin Family: The entire Yin family was taken from the story of Nezha. You can read more about the original story by searching his name in Wikipedia. R F Kuang kept a lot of things from the original tale, and these notes are what I have noticed

Yin Vaisra- Li Jing. Li Jing was also a great general, and in other stories, he was the head general in the Jade Emperor's Heavenly Army. If you know about “Journey to the West”, it was him who attempted to subdue Sun Wukong. 

Yin Saikhara- Lady Yin

*its interesting how Kuang decided to make the mother’s name the family name for the Yins. Originally, I would have thought it was Li instead.

Muzha and Jinzha’s name were lifted directly from the source material

Mingzha is a character Kuang added, for Li Jing only had three sons (or 2 sons and a daughter in this case). There is no source material for how Muzha and Jinzha’s characters are; even in adaptations we rarely get to see any exploration of them.

Yin Nezha- Nezha:

Yin Nezha, like his original counterpart, was the third child of his father. Since Muzha was changed to a female, he is actually the second son. 

He has the powers of the Dragon of the Western river (TBG 392), likely referring to the White Dragon in myths, who is the dragon ruler of the western sea. 

Like the Nezha in the myth, Yin Nezha had an occurrence with a dragon that changed his life. 

At the first battle between Nezha and Rin in TBG, it is stated he wears golden rings around his wrists and ankles. Guanyin bodhisattva did this to Nezha in Journey to the West, in order to placate him. 

The Trifecta: All of the figures in the Trifecta were based on the Fengshen Yanyi (AKA the Investire of the Gods).

Jiang Ziya: His name was directly taken from the novel. 

Su Daji: Her name was directly taken from the novel, as well as some of her penchants for murder. Daji, in both history and the novel, was infamous for her torture methods. 

Jingzha being delivered back to his father in a dumpling holder would qualify as a toruture method. I applaud Kaung for being creative.

Yin Riga: I do not know if Riga is meant to be King Zhou or Ji Fa (the man who overthrew Zhou). Perhaps he was inspired by both of them, or neither. 

Since Kuang did not go into depth into which gods were in the pantheon, I will make a list to who I think is there

Gods mentioned in the books:

Erlang Shen

Sanshengmu 

Sun Wukong *implied through Suni

Zhu Bajie *implied through Baji

Huxian *implied through Unegen, and also Daji

Phoenix

Nuwa

Fuxi

The Four Dragon Kings (Yin Riga was likely the Dragon of the East) *There is no confirmation that there are multiple dragons, but I believe it was strongly implied

Chang’e

Xi Wang Mu, Queen Mother of the West

Zhenniao *implied through Pipaji

The Four Guardians (Azure Dragon, Vermillion Bird, White Tiger, and the Black Tortoise) *implied through Dulin, who summoned the Black Tortoise

Wong Tai sen *implied through Lianhua (Actually I am not sure, but I could not think of any other healer god in Chinese myths)

Gods not mentioned but I believe are in the Pantheon: 

Yudi: Usually depicted as the husband of Xiwangmu

Hou Yi (Since Chang’e is there. However, there is a possibility that he is in Chuulu Korikh as punishment for killing the sons of Yudi)

Shennong: He exists between Nuwa and Fuxi as the “human”

The Eight Deities

Guanyin: (Since Wukong is implied to be a god) showed up in JTTW

Yanwang: (Since Wukong is implied to be a god) showed up in JTTW

Other tidbits:

Arlong’s name may have been the combination of “Azure” and the chinese word for dragon “Long”. 

Aquebus are guns, but they shoot very slow. This aint a AK 47

The Red emperor could have been based off of Qin Shi Huang, or even the Jade Emperor himself.

Chuulu Korikh’s origin, although explained, has ties in Chinese myths. It was the mountain that encased Sun Wukong before he was broken out by Xuanzang. This means that the mountain was put there by the big B, Buddha. (Actually I can't remember if Kuang said who put the mountain down, but if she didnt specify this is what I think happened) 

I am more familiar with Chinese history and myths, rather than Japanese ones, so if im missing something feel free to correct

[whattolearntoday]

July 13th is...

Beans ‘N’ Franks Day - Also known as “beanie weenies,” both dishes are similar to pork ‘n’ beans, but substitute hot dogs or frankfurters for the pork. Baked beans became popular during the Civil War in the United States. They would later become one of the first canned convenience foods on the market in the 1890s. As a result, baked beans became a staple of the chuckwagon. However, it is unknown when adding franks to the beans became a culinary technique.

Beef Tallow Day - It is aimed to celebrate its tradition as a healthy animal fat and its resurgence into American cuisine and food culture. This holiday was formed to educate people about what the difference is between unhealthy fats and healthy fats.

Cow Appreciation Day - In the middle of July each year people dress like bovines for free food. It’s a moo-ving experience to witness designed to save the lives of cows everywhere for just one day. How? By eating chicken instead, that’s how. Across the country, for one day only, adults and children alike herd into their local Chick-fil-A for their favorite cow meal. And it’s not hay.

Delaware Day - The First State to declare independence from the British. Rich in history, Delaware’s lands once belonged to New York and later Pennsylvania. But the independent spirit of this beautiful coastal countryside is more than just legendary.  The Delaware River and Bay derived their names from the 12th Baron del la Warr, Thomas West, a governor of Virginia. The name later carried over to the land as well.

Embrace Your Geekness Day - What exactly does it mean to be a geek? In today’s world it just means one thing. A geek is completely obsessed with one or more subjects, and can speak fluently on it for hours, sounding like a walking encyclopedia of geeky facts. We all should be proud of the things that define us, and little defines us as much as those things we’re passionate about.

French Fry Day -  French fries, also known as chips, fries, finger chips, or French-fried potatoes, are batons of deep-fried potatoes. No matter what we call them, they’re common fixtures at fast-food restaurants and are loved by all ages!  The expression “French Fried Potatoes” first occurs in print in English in the 1856 work Cookery for Maids of All Work by E. Warren.

International Rock Day - A day for celebrating this substance, which has been critical to the survival of mankind. Throughout history, rocks have been used. Since the Stone Age, rocks have been important for use as weapons and tools. The metals and minerals that have been found in rocks are critical to human civilization. Rocks are geologically classified according to characteristics such as mineral and chemical composition, permeability, the texture of the constituent particles, and particle size. These physical properties are the end result of the processes that formed the rocks. Over the course of time, rocks can transform from one type into another, as described by the geological model called the rock cycle.These events produce three general classes of rock: igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic. 

[dweemeister]

Elmer Gantry (1960)

Upon the publication Sinclair Lewis’ novel Elmer Gantry in 1927, an eruption of outrage ensued. The novel, a Juvenalian satire of evangelical Christianity in the United States, drew invectives from evangelical groups and high praise from literary circles. Despite its popularity among American readers, Elmer Gantry’s content long prevented American studio executives from even considering the film adaptation rights. The Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA), from 1934 until 1968, enforced the Hays Code, a guideline for censorship, on all films made by the major American studios for theatrical release. Here is what the Hays Code says on religion – this section was never amended for the entirety of the Code’s existence:

No film or episode may throw ridicule on any religious faith.

Ministers of religion in their character as ministers of religion should not be used as comic characters or as villains.

Ceremonies of any definite religion should be carefully and respectfully handled.

The 1960 film adaptation of Elmer Gantry, released by United Artists (UA), directed and written by Richard Brooks, and featuring one of Burt Lancaster’s most electric performances of his career, violates the second and third part of this section and, arguably, the first as well. By the late 1950s and early ‘60s, enforcement of the Code was beginning to wither – boundary-pushing non-American films (which were exempt from the Code), television, and evolving behavioral and cultural norms in the United States contributed to its eventual demise. One of the beneficiaries was undoubtedly Brooks, whose output around this time – including Blackboard Jungle (1955), The Professionals (1966), and In Cold Blood (1967) – reflects the relaxing standards of Hollywood’s self-imposed censorship. Of the films Brooks made in this period, Elmer Gantry might be the most complete, excoriating, and cinematic.

Elmer Gantry (Lancaster) is a garrulous, ruthless, and ambitious con man who invokes Scripture to hock whatever he is selling. His shtick is effective, as his energetic sermonizing tends to break down the resistance of most. One day, curious about a traveling evangelist tent show passing through town, he encounters Sister Sharon Falconer (Jean Simmons). Gantry, taken by Sister Sharon’s virginal piousness and her fairness, convinces Sister Sharon’s assistant, Sister Rachel (Patti Page), to join their traveling group. Sister Sharon is impressed by Gantry’s – or “Brother Gantry” – orations, and she adjusts her own sermons to complement his. Where Gantry decries the congregants as sinners, Sister Sharon promises salvation through repentance. As time passes, Gantry’s presence in this itinerant ministry becomes the talk of the Midwest and Great Plains. Sister Sharon and Gantry begin to attract new congregants and onlookers’ horror, alike. The sermons become increasingly theatrical, writes the cynical big-city newspaper reporter Jim Lefferts (Arthur Kennedy), who is torn by his admiration of Gantry’s façade and his revulsion for hucksterism. Meanwhile, sex worker Lulu Bains (Shirley Jones) – who once knew Gantry when he was aiming to become a minister – is about to make an unexpected reentry into his life.

Character actors round out the cast of this motion picture, including Dean Jagger as Sister Sharon’s manager, Bill Morgan; Edward Andrews as businessman George F. Babbitt; and John McIntire and Hugh Marlowe as two reverends. Rex Ingram (1936’s The Green Pastures, 1940’s The Thief of Bagdad) cameos in an uncredited appearance as the preacher of a black congregation.

Elmer Gantry never feels like a 146-minute movie, as it moves through its scenes with fervorous pace thanks to some excellent performances and crisp filmmaking (more on both later). Brooks’ adaptation covers less than a quarter of Sinclair Lewis’ novel – Lewis allows its plot to unfold over the course of several years – and takes liberties in deleting or rearranging characters and plot points to fit neatly in a movie adaptation. Like the novel itself, Brooks’ adaptation ends without clear moral or narrative resolution – albeit at an earlier point in the novel. The character of Lulu Bains does not reappear in Lewis’ novel until after the events depicted in the film. To provide Elmer Gantry, the character, with the immoral backstory lost on a moviegoer unfamiliar with the novel, Brooks integrates Lulu into this film adaptation. On a surface level, that appears to deprive Lulu of her own characterization, agency, and backstory, but Brooks allows the character (and Shirley Jones) the space to portray and develop her complicated feelings – a stew of trauma, bitterness, and love – for her current life station and towards Elmer Gantry.

Reverential low-angled shots from cinematographer John Alton (1951’s An American in Paris, 1958’s The Brothers Karamazov) during the revivals make Sister Sharon’s tent seem cavernous, a fabric cathedral without need of stained glass, marble statues, flying buttresses. Looking slightly upwards at Sister Sharon’s of Elmer’s faces (at times with a Dutch angle), the film elevates the two above the masses listening intently on what they have to say, imbuing their scenes with striking imagery that draws the viewer’s attention. The decision to shoot the film in the 1.66:1 screen aspect ratio – wider than the Academy standard, but not as much as the widescreen standard sweeping through American filmmaking at the time – constricts the audience’s peripheral vision, forcing one’s focus on the speaker’s body language, rather than any miscellaneous activity occurring behind or to the side of the speaker.

As for the speakers or, should we say, actors, there are stupendous performances across the ensemble. For his turn as the eponymous lead, Burt Lancaster, known for his vigorous performances, provides Elmer Gantry with vigor aplenty. Modeling his performance off of the behavior of baseball outfielder-turned-evangelist Billy Sunday, Lancaster struts around the tent during revival meetings, his upper body animated in conversation and salesmanship outside those meetings. Even in stillness, Lancaster’s physicality swaggers, brimming with euphoria – his most private moments abound in sexuality molded by what his character might call the love of God. Even Lancaster’s haircut appears to be defying gravity more than usual in Elmer Gantry. The sweat on his brow, within the 1:66:1 frame, feels as if it is about to seep through the camera. As he delivers his lines, Lancaster masters the complicated beat – accelerating with certain turns of phrases and strategic pauses for emphasis – and wildly varying volume of Elmer’s sermons. “Love is like the morning and the evening stars,” he intones as Gantry (that is his signature quote), somehow making us believe in such bromides and other simplifications he sells to the revival’s attendees.

Jean Simmons, as Sister Sharon Falconer, is a clear-eyed minister who nevertheless falls – or, perhaps, “seduced” – for Brother Elmer’s pontifications. In her own way, Sister Sharon Falconer is as ruthless as the man who wheedles his way into her company. Simmons, retaining her British accent, speaks like a patrician but, as Sister Sharon, reminds all that even the poor, the downtrodden, the sightless, the hard-of-hearing can know the munificence of Christ. So different is she from Gantry that when the latter begins to aggressively court her, the scene elicits squirms. Not because the scene is poorly acted, but that Simmons and Lancaster (with assistance from Brooks’ screenplay) have developed their characters so masterfully that Elmer’s pretense-free seduction feels straight from an Old Testament story that invariably incurs God’s wrath. Their characters convince themselves of their mutual love, even though Gantry is probably incapable of loving and Sister Sharon cannot view love outside how she might interpret it through the Bible.

In the aisles or the congregation’s peanut gallery are Arthur Kennedy and Shirley Jones. For Kennedy, as the reporter Jim Lefferts, this is a dress rehearsal for the similar but more biting role of Jackson Bentley in David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia (1962). Like Bentley was to T.E. Lawrence, Lefferts views the work of Elmer Gantry and Sister Sharon with a cynical lens but, to some degree, each finds a professional need for the other. As Lulu, Shirley Jones crackles with a sexuality essentially nonexistent in American movies at this time. Upon Lulu’s introduction, she tells her fellow sex workers her past experiences with the minister now stealing newspaper headlines:

LULU BAINES: He got to howlin’ “Repent! Repent!” and I got to moanin’ “Save me! Save me!” and the first thing I know he rammed the fear of God into me so fast I never heard my old man’s footsteps!

With this suggestive language that would never have been tolerated by the MPAA a few years earlier, Jones delivers her lines with shamelessness, slightly colored by a modicum of romantic trauma that reveals itself later. Jones is not in Elmer Gantry long, but her presence, her character’s raw contradictions deepen the tragedies that seem to follow those entranced by a former seminary student now returning to preaching his idea of gospel.

André Previn’s unsettled score to Elmer Gantry leans heavily on brass dissonance and rhythmically complex string runs in the few instances where there is no dialogue or diegetic music. Though not used often, Previn’s music lays bare Gantry’s motivations of lust and profit, a man devoid of internal meaning and one who craves sensation. There are moments throughout the score where it seems like a Coplandesque Americana sound is begging to burst free. But Previn, more than capable of composing such music and considering the narrative to this adaptation, knows better than to let those tendencies escape. The raving strings and blaring brass bury melodicism, which is left for the jazzy interludes that accompany Lulu’s scenes (jazz at this time was considered scandalous by many Americans). Previn’s score might not suit those longing for free-flowing motifs, but the technical skill required to play, let alone accomplish the musical phrasing he intends, some of the passages he writes for Elmer Gantry are stunning.

Earlier in this write-up in reference to the Hays Code, I mentioned that Elmer Gantry villainizes and makes comic characters out of religious figures, in addition to portraying the events at Sister Sharon’s revivals as debauched, deceitful. But does Elmer Gantry “throw ridicule on… religious faith”? Probably not, although those who despise religious belief in and of itself might disagree. Given Sister Sharon’s modesty and her less-fiery diction early in the film, probably not. Brooks does not expand upon what Sister Sharon’s congregation looked or sounded like in the months of years before Elmer Gantry’s arrival. Instead, Brooks’ movie targets individuals seeking to make economic and personal empires of organized religion – and Elmer Gantry, whose ravenous pursuit for money and women, is the man to defile Sister Sharon’s ministry. Only once he ingratiates himself to Sister Sharon, Gantry begins to emphasize what sounds suspiciously close to the “prosperity gospel”, which broadly states that faith in God and religious donations will lead to material wealth and physical wellbeing. The prosperity gospel is not scriptural. But it is a central tenant of numerous evangelical traditions.

Like Oral Roberts, Billy Graham, and the Falwell family, Elmer Gantry is the byproduct of the United States’ Third Great Awakening, which also resulted in Prohibition and the State of Tennessee’s decision to prosecute John Thomas Scopes for teaching human evolution in a public school. Sinclair Lewis, like Richard Brooks and his cast for Elmer Gantry, warn of profiteering “prophets” that remain a fixture of American life. From the mid-1950s to the mid-‘60s, the major Hollywood studios were prioritizing epic movies such as Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments (1956), William Wyler’s Ben-Hur (1959), and George Stevens’ The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965) – spectaculars intended to check the perceived threat of television to moviegoing. A film like Elmer Gantry that disparages religious ministers – even unethical, villainous ones – released during this time was nothing less than a landmark. Adapting a work by one of the great American writers of the twentieth century, Richard Brooks, with no small assistance from a cast topped by Burt Lancaster, results in a venomous film including one of the great characters of American film history. The book is almost a century old and the film is just past its sixtieth anniversary, but Elmer Gantry’s power endures. Elmer Gantry’s dialectic continues, even with evangelical Christianity akin to the homilies of Elmer Gantry supposedly on the wane.

My rating: 10/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Elmer Gantry is the one hundred and sixty-fourth feature-length or short film I have rated a ten on imdb. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[myownjadedpieceofmind]

*posted on the fb too, but it was too good not to share here. Sometimes I really am proud of my brain.*

Small rant...because I feel wordy and its just one of those days. Feel free to scroll by. However, the discussions that I've watched people have on Facebook are just about enough to make me question everything I know about everything.

Why?

Let me explain. No way in hell am I going to sit here and believe that all of the people complaining about what Biden is doing, are all going to also believe that Biden doing anything is going to last FOREVER. no. 4 years. And guess what? You won't even give a shit by then, you'll have some other cross to bear by then.

The entire wealthy/poverty situation lately and the views I've seen discussed between business owners and employees alike. And it doesn't matter politics or wage set. As a matter of fact, the majority of the people that should be pushing for more livable standards, either by lower cost of living or the higher wages- they are acting like its an attack against them, when honestly... if I had more money to spend, those people's businesses would be doing better.

Keep getting told read the history books.

Keep being told that I need to stop being so socialist.

Dude. Its capitalism, as it always has been. And socialism. And democracy. Because we stole our way of life from everyone else.

Back up to my last point. Study supply and demand. Study the economic impact of a surge of expendable finances by the average consumer. Ask me if that is bad for the economy. Does it hurt the small business owner that the people in their town make more money and can afford more luxuries??? Hell no. But, we gonna sit and complain that we can't pay people to be able to afford a pot to piss in, let alone shop the businesses you are having to close because you can't keep up the sales?

And then the whole skilled worker bullshit. Please. Every single worker is a skilled worker. Every job teaches some sort of skill to do. The difference between your skills and someone else's in your field of work usually isn't in the fact that you worked so much harder than the other guy. Usually, that other guy completed an extra course in the study, performed better than you just by talent alone, OR, afforded a higher education that afforded him to reach a higher wage set.

So....basically buying his way to a higher socioeconomic class. Another person with his same exact experience in every way, with the exception of financial support to get the higher education, would be passed over for the same job, EVEN IF THEY WERE MORE QUALIFIED IN EVERY WAY. That piece of paper, bought by pieces of paper, is what got that guy the ultimate paper- that higher wage. That middle class mindset.

Wait up. Do you know what middle class income is? In 2016, it was $78k/year. How many people do you personally know making middle class wages?? And if you aren't, why are you complaining about being at what the majority of the people running your country considers to be "lower class wage earners", with most of us barely scraping at what is considered "poverty level"- Around $22k/year for a family of 3. Who the hell can even consider a family on that income?

And yet...EVEN THAT IS MORE THAN WHAT MINIMUM WAGE IS.

Please, tell me its the skill issue and not greed and oppression as it always has been.

I'm begging to be convinced. I've run businesses. I've played both sides of the IRS table on write offs for small businesses, contractors and lucky for me, the same guy owned a farm. Multiple earning household. And after a lifetime of back breaking work, in his 70s, that guy is one person I know in the "middle class", and he's probably one of the most wealthy people (in land and cattle, investments) I've ever known.

You don't get rich off of hard work. If we did, my dad would be one of the richest guys on the planet, having to work 2 jobs raising us kids. One of those jobs for the UNITED STATES AIR FORCE. 25years. Yet, that wasn't enough in the 90s to raise a family of 3 kids.

Hell, my parents went bankrupt. And it wasn't for living beyond our means, I wore second hand hand-me-downs. Believe me, I'm not complaining. I had the greatest childhood and parents that gave everything to make sure we had what we needed. My mom used to take hours sewing doll clothes for our barbies to be the best dressed.

But..thats the real world. The news flash. The thing that's had me scratching my head. Every single one of us knows what a struggle meal is. Every one of us have ramen noodle, dried beef gravy, or potted meat story. Not one person that is arguing that people shouldn't make enough money to live on is very far from being back to white bread and bologna sandwiches for supper.

How would it be if we all said "well, I had to have measles, so why shouldn't that person. No need for vaccines."

"I had to drink unfiltered water that gave me bacterial infections, so why should any one else have clean water"

STOP EXPECTING SOMEONE ELSE TO SUFFER BECAUSE YOU HAVE. INSTEAD MAKE THE PATH EASIER FOR THOSE THAT FOLLOW BEHIND YOU.

"I've worked so hard to get what little I have, AND it isnt barely enough for someone starting out. WE ALL NEED BETTER. "

Perspectives. *end rant*

[bookbornexiv]

the sea at the bottom of the sea

(wol and hythlodaeus check out azem’s apartment. warning: unedited and full of shadowbringers spoilers up to 5.5, despite which i clearly retained absolutely zero knowledge of any lore)

You heard it sitting on the docks south of Wright, a fishing rod in your hands and sea-spray salting your dangling feet and the mad cries of gulls in your hair; a story told through mouthfuls of sandwich by one dock worker to another, drifting to you like a thin thread of destiny over the pounding heartbeat of the sea in your ears and in your bones. You were thinking about fish and other such things, you had your eyes half shut to better feel the sun's warm kiss on your face. To better ignore that you should probably be actually doing or preparing for some important duty right now instead. To better forget that there was something you came here to remember.

"There's a sea at the bottom of the sea, and another sea at the bottom of that sea, and another sea at the bottom of that one. But below all of that, if you swim hard enough, you might see a city..."

You can see it now on the back of your eyelids, the shadows of spires and spirals like arms unfurling to welcome you, that city at the bottom of the sea. But you know it's not really a city, that the tale-telling dock workers are right. What looks like a city is just another sea, emptied of water and filled instead with memories so fluid, anyone could be forgiven for thinking them the real thing.

And you find yourself wondering, what's at the bottom of that?

*

You find, without much surprise, Hythlodaeus waiting in the lobby of the building when you eventually locate it. You fold your arms as you crane your neck back to gaze accusingly into his masked face. You really could have used his help three or four bells ago, at the front desk of the city council, or at any of the departments they eventually relayed you to like a ping-pong ball. At any of the points in time which you found yourself explaining over and over again, to a different face wearing a very slightly different mask, that you didn't have any identifying documents, you didn't have any legal or law enforcement credentials, but all you wanted to know and didn't see the harm in them telling you was Azem's mailing address. A PO box would have been fine. Finally, your patience wearing thin, you had to withdraw and hide in a back alley to surreptitiously make some coffee biscuits on your portable stove, craft a cute little paper box to put them in, and then - wearing your most winsome smile and the Amaurotine robes you'd kept from the first time you'd been run around doing errands here - rocked up to the concierge of the first residential building you could find, intending to say you had a cookie delivery for Azem but you'd forgotten the unit number exactly. To your crestfallen surprise, the lobby is entirely empty of staff and residents alike, and only Hythlodaeus is there, beaming at you in your cleverness.

"I didn't do anything," you say.

"Azem was always moving. When you're never in town and very charming but also very bad at arranging for bills and rent to be paid on time, you can't keep a place for long," Hythlodaeus explains. "Landlords get fed up and somehow Emet-Selch or I would end up with the eviction notice, we'd have to come around to make sure everything was safely put away in storage for the time being... Azem never even remembered how to get to any of them either. You're doing better. Very impressive."

You give him the box of biscuits. You're not sure how he's going to get any use out of them, but he looks delighted anyway, and tucks it carefully away somewhere in his robes.

"Shall we go up? You'll need me to press the lift buttons. You can't reach them."

You also end up needing his help to reach the lock on the apartment door, which you are completely unsurprised to find out he has a spare key to. For a moment, as he fumbles with the stiff lock, you find yourself backing up a little bit, holding your breath, as if that locked door were a rock over the mouth of a volcano already in the throes of an eruption. Later you'll ask yourself why you were so nervous, so anxious, what you were thinking you might see when he opened that door. For now your mind is a blank - one that, mercifully, remains so as Hythlodaeus wiggles the doorknob free and pushes the door open. "Welcome!" he says, brandishing one long arm gracefully to usher you in. "Watch your step. And your hands."

You don't take a step towards the open doorway. "Watch out for what? For cubus? Did Azem keep cubus as pets?"

"No, no, I mean it might be dusty. I don't remember if anyone arranged for weekly cleaning."

You finally let go of that long breath you had been holding. Dust you can deal with. You are the Warrior of Darkness. The Warrior of Darkness. The Warr- You clear your head, nod gratefully at Hythlodaeus and step past him, into the apartment.

It honestly is a bit of a disappointment. If you hadn't known the occupant of this unit to be a person of fairly major importance and influence on, like, an international scale, then you might have thought it pretty neat in a sterile, showroom kind of way. High ceilings and big glass windows and sleepy beige and grey accents on sleek and featureless furnishings, generic abstract paintings alongside boring black shelves on the walls, and lush plastic plants scattered about as if the designer had run out of ideas and just slapped a wall planter here or a flowerpot there to hide chipped varnish or distract from a glaringly empty spot. It isn't particularly dusty, or at least, the recreator of this physical illusion had neglected to include it, so it couldn't have been a terribly integral part of the experience. You wonder vaguely if Emet-Selch - if Hades - had been tempted to improve upon the reality of the past, even for just a little. You imagine him sneezing violently as he walked in, lifetimes ago, planets ago. The hood flying back off his head, him stomping around irritably resolving to do something about it. Does this count as doing something about it? Leaving the dust out of his recreation of a place he would have had absolutely no reason to come back to? Had he been tempted to come back to it?

"I don't know," Hythlodaeus says, as if he can read your mind. "I mean, I know what you're thinking. You're wondering if - if a memory of Azem might be here." There are more closed doors, leading out from this main room; there's a sliding door to a balcony, but you don't see anyone on the other side of that at least. "If everything was remembered into being so faithfully, so perfectly, then surely, you think, one of the most important people in this city should be here too. How could one of the Fourteen be forgotten? By another of the Fourteen, no less?" His masked face tilts to regard you in a way you want to interpret as tenderly, even though you can read absolutely nothing from its smooth, blank surface. "You're free to look. I'll just dust everything a bit and check the bathrooms. You know there's always a pipe leaking or something when you're not around to see to it."

He leaves you, disappearing into a small room which, you assume, is not hiding a snoring recreation of Azem, since he makes no startled exclamation. You think you know him well enough by now that he'd pop back out again, all excited, and wave you over to come look at Azem, if he'd found anything. If he'd found his new, old friend.. You breathe a little easier and muster up the courage to step forward, poke at a stack of books that looked like they were lifted out of the box they'd been stored in and plonked down upon a low shelf to never move again until the next time Azem forgot to settle the rent. You can't actually reach most of the stuff in here, but there's nothing that you actually feel worth taking a second look at, let alone trying to climb the bookshelves for. No portraits of loved ones, masked or unmasked, no trinkets or souvenirs one might have expected of a constant traveler, nothing that looked like a notebook or journal or even a grocery list. Nothing personal. It looks and feels like a place that had been carefully arranged to look homely and welcoming, but in reality is no one's home. You do eventually climb the coffee table and stand upon it, looking around, trying to imagine yourself about ten times taller, to no avail. No skull-splitting flash of light, no rush of memories, no sense of deja vu assaults you as the Echo had seen fit to do everywhere else. This place doesn't mean anything to you. Perhaps it never had.

You sit on the table, shoulders slumping a little, and wait for Hythlodaeus to come back. He looks at you, goes to the kitchen and re-emerges with two cups of tea, although the cup he plonks down in front of you might better serve you as a bath than a beverage. You sit on the balcony together and eat the coffee biscuits, Hythlodaeus pinching each one delicately between thumb and forefinger as one might pick up a grain of sand, and craning his neck back as he lifts it to his mouth so you never quite see the face below his mask. When you look down into the box and find it empty, Hythlodaeus says they were delicious. You remember making six biscuits and you remember eating six biscuits. But you don't mention it. It has been such a peaceful afternoon.

"Did you find what you were hoping to find here?"

You shrug.

"I suppose we can't always find what we set out to find," Hythlodaeus says. "But sometimes, you know, you find something you absolutely weren't expecting or even thinking to find. Sometimes it's something you had no idea could even exist. That's what Azem always said traveling was like, you know? It can happen even at home, but I suppose when you're on the way to somewhere else every day, it happens all the time."

You point out that that unknown 'something' could be something as bad as it could be nice. But, you concede, it's probably better to be prepared for it to be bad, while hoping for it to be nice. Otherwise, you can't imagine that anyone would ever want to leave one place for another.

"That is something Azem would say," Hythlodaeus says with great satisfaction. "You know, I think we never quite managed to meet up here and have a chat like this. It's nice to be able to sit here and talk nonsense together at last."

You look at him, wondering if a crack might have appeared on his mask somewhere, if something in this city is programmed, triggered, coded to unravel the minute someone finally acknowledges who you are and who you were in the same breath - the new old you, the old new you. You can't say in words what exactly you're expecting. Perhaps you'll hear your true name, Azem's true name, perhaps even spoken in Emet-Selch's voice rumbling from the speakers in the walls, from the waves high above the city's spires. Perhaps you want the city to crack and crumble and fall to pieces around you, only to reveal the true city at the bottom of this remembered city, the city at the bottom of the bottom of the bottom of the sea. Perhaps all you want, every time you return here, is to truly be home.

"I'll finish your tea, if you're not going to drink it."

Hythlodaeus puts the cups away when he's done, wipes the crumbs from the empty box and deposits it gently in a massive bin. You make a mental note to come back and check on it later. Can a remembered garbage disposal or recycling system actually dispose of very real cardboard, made from real pulp from real branches you cut yourself, a world away - fourteen worlds away? - in the quiet forests of the North Shroud?

"Did you know Azem wasn't going to be here?" you ask him, later, when you've taken the lift back down to the building's lobby. He is poised to see you off, standing at the exact spot he was waiting to welcome you in, long limbs arranged in exactly the same position. You wonder how much longer this simulation of Amaurot, sundered from its creator, will stand, can pretend to function, pretend to live. Is it beginning to loop things to conserve resources? Is that even close to a guess at how this place works?

"I wasn't sure," Hythlodaeus replies. "We didn't open any of the other doors, after all. And Emet-Selch complained about Azem being absent almost as equally as he complained about Azem... Perhaps he felt it was more true to memory not to recreate Azem in Amaurot. Perhaps he was stubborn enough that he didn't care and did it anyway... In the old days I'd have offered to bet on the outcome. But these aren't the old days any more and anyway, you're here."

"I am," you agree. "But I gotta go."

He lifts a hand to wave you goodbye. For a moment your heart leaps to your teeth, but it's not the same way you remember Emet-Selch waving at all. But it's also, excruciatingly, bone-meltingly painful and endearing and wonderful all at once. You don't want to stop looking at him, and you don't want to leave. And yet, and yet, and yet, you find your feet turning and then you're facing the doors, walking out into the emerald light of the sea-sky over Emet-Selch's Amaurot.

*

It turns out there really is a city at the bottom of the sea at the bottom of the sea, but it's not your city any more.

[countessofbiscuit]

What are your Bobasoka headcanons? I've already gone through all of the (criminally little) fic on ao3 and I especially loved Smothered and Covered, and I saw the majority of the fics in the tag were gifted to you so I'm assuming you're the OG shipper. Feel free to essay if you like!!

Thanks for the ask and kind words about that fic :3 

Oh, Bobasoka … where to begin? It’s a pairing that’s been bumping around in exchange requests for a few years — I figure it’d be easy for anyone invested in Ahsoka’s relationship with the clones to be compelled by the idea. Lledra used to draw Boba and Ahsoka interacting, and it was probably a few panels of their incredible Destinies comic that set my Bobasoka wheels turning. I’m also drawn to them because their journeys traverse so much canon; there’s not just a sandbox to play in, but a whole goddamn stretch of beach, stretching far out into the horizon ...  (#AhsokaLives #BobaSurvived :D)

I have to lead with the proviso that almost everything I write/daydream about/headcanon has a groundsheet of Rexsoka. Ahsoka’s interest in Boba, in my head, is intimately tied up with her attraction to and/or relationship with Rex — or, at the bare minimum, her intimate fellowship with the clones. She went through puberty (maybe with heats!) surrounded by a literal army of handsome, roughly college-aged dudes; that must’ve been a heady mix of heaven and hell. If she didn’t quench her thirst before war’s end and her (eventual) separation from Rex, she’d probably be pretty dehydrated when stumbling across Boba. As for Boba’s attraction to Ahsoka, well ... she’s very pretty, she’s potentially useful, she’s not likely to skewer him in his sleep (+2) on account of being a Jedi (-1), and now she’s the one down on her luck; if he falls in bed with anyone, why not this girl who isn’t afraid of him and stares a lot at his lips?                         

And Boba is like a hot shipping potato — satisfying, hard to fuck up, goes well (read: makes for an intriguing story) with almost everyone. And I think it has everything to do with his liminality, something he shares with Ahsoka and probably recognizes.          

Their neither-this-nor-that-ness overlap in such interesting ways, and they each bring their identity issues to the table — Ahsoka as an on-again, off-again Jedi; Boba as a clone who isn’t a Clone™, a Mandalorian by birth and bearing, but not by the book. At different points in their stories, they identify as different things, and that would affect their headspace and color their view of the other. They wrestle with themselves and each other. Force-user and bounty hunter; privileged topsider and orphaned juvenile delinquent fugitive; GAR commander and outcast clone; Jedi and Mandalorian; Disillusioned veteran and disaffected army brat; Rebellion agent and Imperial contractor.

And as much conflict is baked into these dynamics, it also generates a certain magnetism; and I believe they recognize, on some level, their shared trauma and the symmetry in their experiences. Boba and Ahsoka both have happy childhoods with very little to distress or vex them (beyond the art, I do not jive with Age of Republic: Jango Fett, a Disney-canon comic that not only doubles-down on the Jango-wasn’t-Mando nonsense, but shows him being rather cavalier about Boba’s life); Geonosis happens and their adolescent lives are dominated by war (which is how they came to actively threaten each other as space!secondary-schoolers — whaaaaatf!); they are both dubiously (even wrongfully) imprisoned; and they both suffer alienation and incredible personal loss.  

Boba was set apart from the clones before he was even pulled him from the jar, othered and elevated from the beginning. He never bonded with brothers, he does not identify as a clone. And while there are examples of clones making overtures to him, canonically his relationship with them is fraught and probably made worse when he gets banged up in Republic Central at the tender age of eleven or twelve — and of course, Ahsoka is an accessory to this, the second chapter in his tragedy at the hands of the Jedi. He needed help (whether he wanted it or not), it was not given by clones or Jedi alike (hamstrung by bureaucracy, sure, but surely some other means of intervention might have been lobbied for?), and Boba becomes a right teenage disaster, well-balanced only in the sense that he has a chip on both shoulders.

(n.b. Putting my RepComm hat on for a second, I can’t help but sniffle-laugh at the idea that the Alphas watched him get thrown in a maximum-security slammer and were like “Ah, there he is, the feral vod’ika. First time, we’ll let the little snot earn his stripes. Second time, we’ll bust him out and send him on a tough love retreat with A’den or Jaing.”)

Ahsoka, meanwhile, is part-and-parcel of the institutions that Boba sets himself against, even after she too has been cast out by circumstances beyond her control. She grows up in a supportive Jedi community and then spends some seriously formative years with a whole slew of brothers — brothers that should have been Boba’s! 

Boba, on the other hand, is a great example of the proverb that a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. (As he tells Hondo, “Why should I help anybody? I’ve got no one.”) 

The resentment that must create! But also, later, the quiet empathy too — maybe when Boba’s having one of his better days and Ahsoka’s obviously not. 

And all of the above is interesting enough, without also touching upon the wildcard that is Mandalore.

Boba’s relationship with Mandalore .... well, that’s contested in- and out-of-universe and I won’t allow myself to essay overmuch. I subscribe firmly to a Mandalorian Fetts construction of canon, even though Boba must be someone who struggles mightily with Mandalorian identity. He’s raised by a bona fide Mando, a solicitous, loving father who’d have no reason not to pass on his language and beliefs; but at the same time, it takes that village, and when Boba’s clan of two is shattered, he has no one else. The loss of his dad unmoors him from his only anchor to Mandalorian culture and clan.

If Boba had been close to the Cuy’val Dar, one would think he’d have turned to them rather than fall in with Jango’s criminal acquaintances; or maybe the bounty hunters just scooped him up first, and troubled lil’ Boba was shepherded through bereavement by folks who enabled and encouraged him to externalize his anger in a way that gave him a (false) feeling of agency and strength. 

Whatever the reasons, Boba does not repatriate himself to Mandalore (much to Fenn Shysa’s melodramatic dismay). He strikes me as a lapsed Mandalorian; he doesn’t exactly follow the creed besides wearing the armor (scavenged? his dad’s sans helmet? canon is confused on this point, but he doesn’t go Mando until the unfinished arcs at the end of TCW, either for lack of stature, lack of armor, or lack of enthusiasm). I feel like if someone rocked up to Boba in a cantina and had the balls to ask “hey, so you a Mandalorian?” Boba would be like “<ominously slow helmet tilt> who’s asking” and never give you a straight answer.

Meanwhile, Ahsoka gets a crash course on Mandalore from none other than someone who, at one point, belonged to a sect that wanted to expunge Jaster’s legacy from the galaxy — and at the very least, had reason to dislike clones. This isn’t the place to explore my Boba/Bo-Katan feelings, but know that they are fathomless, and I would pay good money to be a fly on the wall of that Kom’rk when Bo-Katan gives Ahsoka Mando History 101 with her own special sauce. Ahsoka is probably more up-to-speed on Mandalore than Boba, and at one point, she may even own more beskar than him! (n.b. After the crash, I think one of the first places Rex and Ahsoka bounce is just inside Mando space, to scope out the Sundari situation and maybe try to scramble a signal to Bo-Katan; she’d have the goodwill to at least get them back on their feet if she can’t help them lay low herself. For a variety of reasons worth maybe ficcing down the line, they aren’t successful.)

I don’t really have a concluding statement except, I just think Bobasoka’s neat :) They hit all my depressed-Millennial buttons.

Headcanon by bullet-point isn’t really my style, but this is tumblr so ... tl;dr:

They recognize a lot in each other, even if they’re slow to admit it, if ever. Boba’s a cagey bastard and Ahsoka doesn’t ever like him enough to be emotionally honest.

They bump into each other during Ahsoka’s walkabout(s) ‘cause Coruscant’s Underworld ain’t big enough for the two of them. Without Slave-1, Boba couchsurfs at Nyx Okami’s garage, but he does his laundry at Rafa’s. He might even borrow the Martez’s new, useful friend for a job or two. 

Ahsoka eventually matures enough to be sensitive about her use of the Force on and around clones, and she definitely doesn’t use it around Boba. Definitely not during sex.

Boba is privately weirded out every time Ahsoka uses Mando slang she picked up off the clones or the Nite Owls.

Boba absolutely kills Cad Bane in that shoot-out, keeps the hat, and lets Ahsoka have it. She shoves it out the airlock and uses it for target practice. 

So many great smut flavours! Hatesex. Acquaintances with benefits. “You’re traumatized and touch-starved and you look just like him/them, and I know how to be gentle and what to do, so maybe we could … ?” They’re both privately comfortable with their bodies and sexuality, but Boba’s got trust issues a parsec long and Ahsoka’s lost confidence; it’s always an awkward affair, but desperation wins out.

They exchange comm codes every time they run into each other, which is kind of pointless because they both use burners.

Ahsoka hitches a ride on Slave-1 more than once. There really is only one bed, so it’s either sleep upright, sleep in a pokey prisoner hold, or sleep with him.

For a few years, Boba can pass as a last-generation clone — the ones that got sold off in bulk units to slavers before Kamino sunk another three years’ food, board, and training into them. Boba pretends he doesn’t notice, easy to really, since he tells himself his helmet is his face. But occasionally, when Ahsoka can convince him there’s profit in it, he agrees to play sleeper agent and assists in liberating a few here and there. 

They don’t talk about Aurra Sing.

When an Imp really crosses him, Boba passes on intel to Ahsoka to ruin their day.

Once, when they’re both super skint, Ahsoka volunteers to get handed in to some relatively minor and out-of-the-way Imperial garrison, so Boba can collect, bust her out, and split the pot with her. It’s the closest she ever comes to telling him “I trust you” — and when he brushes the idea aside, citing something about risk, it’s the closest he ever comes to telling her “I love you.”

Boba sees Inquisitors as muscling in on his game. There are so many lousy Force-users around nowadays, it should be easy pickings, but Inquisitors get privileged information. So he makes sport out of misdirecting them, especially from Ahsoka. 

When he pisses her off, Ahsoka fantasizes about Bo-Katan taking Boba down a peg or two while she watches :)))

Boba experienced Ahsoka’s heat once, secondhand through a cabin wall. He thought he was being clever by shooting Rex up with some Nevoota stim pollen, locking him in with Ahsoka, and hijacking their locked ships. Longest three days of his life, limping on broken hyperdrives and shared fuel stores to the nearest waystation to a soundtrack of violent lovemaking : \

Bounty hunters invariably bump into spies and agents because they work in the same areas. The agents pretend to be bounty hunters, eccentric business people, sex workers, or a range of other things. Sometimes each party knows all about the other, but it’s only polite not to mention it. This happens to Ahsoka and Boba A LOT, especially once she becomes Fulcrum; rebel cells and Imperials often want the same people. Occasionally they exchange fire. A couple times Boba gets imprisoned in Ahsoka’s own brig. Once, Boba blows her cover and definitely lives to regret it. 

(this essay was originally punctuated with pics, but replies with images won’t show up tumblr tags so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) 

[astriiformes]

Obligatory “do not clown on this post” disclaimer for people who are neither ace or aro, as well as preface that this is coming from an aroace perspective (although one that leans a lot more heavily on the aromantic side, partially due to inter-community nonsense not that different than this), not to mention there’s a lot more going on that just what I have to say, but like..... do ace people, alloace and aroace alike, who try to speak over aromantic voices of any kind not realize that the dangerous game of respectability politics they’re playing does nothing but shoot them in the foot, too? 

The fact that aromantic people of any sexual orientation deserve to be listened to and have a right to not only talk about their experiences, but self-define the language used to do so aside, the fact is, the quest to uncouple romantic and sexual attraction in the public’s eye and make it known that they are not universal experiences can have no compromises just because you personally favor one side over the other. One, you’re wrong to give one of them more weight, but two, given that the two are intrinsically linked in the public eye, you’re sabotaging your own points in the process. 

Do you really think the people who vocally hate both the ace and aro communities care? Do you think they’re getting hung up on our language? They don’t hate us for our terminology! The shared root of their hate for both ace and aro people is that we dare to exist outside the societally constructed boundary that declares sex and romance are universal wants that always exist in tandem! If you want to talk about some kind of united aspec experience, that’s it -- it’s why ace discoursers mostly focused on sexual attraction still drag aros into their arguments, and why the same exclusionists target both our communities again and again, not to mention the reasons cishet society has problems with us to begin with. If you think the important part is optics and policing the language that parts of aspec circles you don’t even belong to use to talk about themselves, not only are you attacking them unfairly, but you’re just adding another bullet to the arsenal of people who just want to hate aspecs, and once they’ve finished using the arguments you’ve provided them on aros, they’ll come for you, too.

Like, this conversation should begin and end with “don’t tell people in communities you don’t belong to what to do,” but if you can’t get that through your head, at least try to comprehend the sheer hypocrisy in the idea of policing sections of the aromantic community. We do have places we can find common ground, but it’s not by making one community look more like the other or by asking one of them to tone down their own experiences. It’s in forming a united front against bigots and exclusionists who have problems with our identities as a concept, and that does NOT happen if you spend your time silencing voices that have important things to say.

[dereksmcgrath]

Y’all are talking up Star and Stripe, while I’m impressed how this series finally gave interiority to Stain.

“No Man Is an Island,” My Hero Academia Chapter 328. By Kohei Horikoshi, translation by Caleb Cook, lettering by John Hunt. Available from Viz.

Content warnings regarding rape and violence against women.

Before I get to Stain, let’s start with the end of this chapter, given how much of a splash Star and Stripe, our newest character, has made so far with readers.

Is Star and Stripe All Might’s student? I don’t want to bring out the Todoroki red-string board determining a list of All Might’s potential offspring, and I don’t think that’s her role in this story, as calling her mentor her “master” is far more a student-teacher relationship than anything else. But if she is All Might’s student, what does that change in what I have considered about All Might up to this point? I have frequently derided his skills as a teacher, and nothing in the story has suggested otherwise that he isn’t used to it: flashbacks we’ve had of Nezu talking with All Might implied teaching would be something new for him, his innate learning clashes with someone like Izuku who prefers things explained to him, and the series has made gags about how he needed the equivalent of Teaching for Dummies to know basic pep talks to give to Izuku’s classmates. That’s not to say he was never a teacher to Star and Stripe--but it is to say that it has not been obvious to me that he had such experiences, or was that suited for it. It may be that All Might, despite himself and what he thinks of himself, was indeed a teacher to Star and Stripe, or at least she thought he did a good job as one, whether directly or, as is just as likely, serving as the role model, literally the person she has modeled her look and theming around.

You’ll also forgive me if I look at that chapter’s title and not still think how much All Might isolated himself for so long, so it’s rich to have such a title like that, when it’s too little, too late, for All Might to suddenly engage in the collaborative work that heroes should engage it, that has been part of Izuku’s ethos for so long, that is at the heart of One For All, when All Might has kept trying to handle everything on his own with no help from others. Granted, I’m being unfair: All Might has seemed to have more coordination with the police than other Pro Heroes from what we’ve seen in the comics, and it’s not like they can’t retroactively change that (Big Red Dot refers to All Might as a “friend” in this chapter, so maybe All Might is a more collaborative hero than I’m giving him credit.) Weirdly, All Might’s tendency to work alone kind of makes him and Stain alike in a lot of ways--but we’ll get to Stain later. And yes, I can also see the island conceit is referring to Tartarus, but I’m looking at the subtext first before the text.

But turning back to Star and Stripe, and without whining too much about this point, it is bizarre this late in the game to get yet another character who was influenced by All Might. But it’s not unbelievable. Of course there are more than just Izuku and Bakugo who modeled their look or name after All Might. Of course there are more than just Melissa Shield and Nighteye inspired to go into support or hero work by his example. And of course, when All Might studied and practiced in the United States, and whose theming is built around Superman, the quintessential United States superhero (albeit one co-created by a Canadian creator), of course we’d get a US Pro Hero inspired by him. And she’s a woman, and I appreciate that inclusiveness and representation.

Too bad, as usual, including another woman in the story leads to two problems I have with fans’ reactions: one, for fans who are fixated on objectifying women characters, and two, for an Edgar Allan Poe scholar like me who keeps reading into things, rightly or wrongly, and thinking everything is going to turn into killing off a woman character to motivate the men characters.

I really wish I wouldn’t have to write this ridiculous disclaimer, but the “horny on main” crowd on social media gets tiresome. It’d be nice to have a new woman character be introduced without immediate reactions being primarily “she’s hot.” Sometimes you just want to enjoy a new character like Star and Stripe as a Captain America-style pastiche and their superpower work without just seeing her as another freaking waifu for someone. Nothing precludes her from being someone that people find attractive; I just find it tiresome when it seems like still that this tends to happen to women more frequently, especially with the long history of reducing women, in real life or in fiction, for objectification and not seeing them as fully realized people where, yes, any sexuality or asexuality is part of them, but just a part, not all of them.

And while I criticize the “horny on main” crowd, it’s not like I don’t have my own problems in writing these reviews regarding women characters: I have set a countdown clock for how long before Star and Stripe gets fridged, because that’s my fear. At least recent art in the newest My Hero Academia volume in Japan features new artwork of Nagant, so fingers crossed she’s not quite dead following All For One’s inevitable explode-y betrayal. And it’s not as if this series lacks diverse representations of girls and women, especially in roles they take (Pro Hero, Villain, Vigilante, or civilian) and personalities. And it’s not fair for me to risk limiting the story’s potential by insisting a character not be killed off. But when I think popular culture at large still limits roles for girls and women in action stories, especially in superhero stories and shonen, it’s hard for me not to cringe with worry that, shortly after a girl or woman character is introduced to the story, that she’s going to be sidelined in some way, whether objectified or killed off, largely for the sake of boys and men fans and characters.

Or maybe I’m just annoyed seeing as this chapter starts with a Tartarus escapee shouting about “females” like Quark from DS9 before Stain kills him. Thoughts and prayers for that dead jackass.

Still, that character’s presence is troublesome. In Horikoshi’s works, and spinoffs like Vigilantes, violence against women perpetuates as a way of identifying someone as really super-duper evil. It feels like that Mark Millar quotation referring to rape as one of the ways to really clue in the audience that this person is evil, no different than if a villain decapitated someone. It’s far more complicated than that when writing in fiction for two reasons. First, it’s victimizing women for a story so that it traditionally falls upon the protagonist, usually a man, to avenge those women--so, Stain killing this guy kind of fits that cliche. Second, it’s not believable, and it does a lot of harm acting like a rapist is that obvious villain over there rather than a lot of people that we keep thinking are nice guys before, bam, we realize they’re fucking awful. It’s the banality of evil that perpetuates, to ignore that rapists in real life are not just mustache-twirling villains but can be people of all types, even people in the highest levels of government, entertainment, and business who are supposed to come across as reasonable, normal individuals who contribute to society but instead are also freaking monsters who committed sexual violence against someone else.

I wish I had any sort of transition to get back to other parts of this chapter, so the best I can say is, let’s turn back to Stain.

I do appreciate what this chapter does with him, especially giving us something we haven’t had from him in a long time, if ever: interiority. Getting into Stain’s mind should be petrifying, like how his stance against the Pro Heroes froze them in place, with or without use of his Quirks. (If it turns out he actually had a “Quirk awakening” like Toga and Shigaraki, I’m throwing copies I have of this manga against the wall.) Instead, Stain is weirdly rational. He assesses the situation, sees how chaotic things are in this prison, realizes things must be chaotic outside, so his first stop is to see who has information, such as any computer data, and that’s where he’s lucky enough to find the last surviving Tartarus guard protecting the hard drive that he passes onto All Might. He’s even weirdly honorable to not take that weapon on his way out, not kill this dying guard, and not just be evil for evil’s sake. As Stain himself said, he’s an ally, but also a beast.

It’s incredible. What character progression.

I was ticked off with the last chapter having Hawks dismiss Stain’s note as a “love letter” to All Might: that’s right up there with UA dismissing Shigaraki initially as a “man-child.” These characters are more complicated than these off-putting insults that seem to be more about criticizing men for failing to stand up to some expected behavior. Like, if you’re going to go after Stain and Shigaraki, I would start with the fact that they are freaking murderers before lambasting one as looking up to All Might and the other as enjoying video games and being immature for his age.

So, after how annoying those character derisions are, I’m impressed how this chapter took us through Stain’s thought process in a way to have him be more than the crazed vigilante we saw in Vigilantes and the Hosu Arc. It added depth to him without negating what evils he has done. It showed his thought process beyond cliches of some Death Wish hyper-violent weirdo without, again, retconning those aspects as if they were never part of him. This chapter isn’t quite a retcon, so much as a fleshing out of a character to show how he was able to get the jump on Pro Heroes and kill or disable so many of them. This makes him look smart and capable rather than, as I will continue to complain about Villains like All For One, just lucky and the beneficiaries of plot contrivances. That contrast, to have Stain looking at All For One, who stands before escaped prisoners like the Messiah (or Anti-Christ) figure he thinks he is, just cements for me how well Stain is written, and how poorly in contrast All For One comes across.

Then again, Stain did just happen upon the guard having those drives of digital information, so he could have just been the lucky beneficiary of a plot contrivance. Or, as at least one person online wrote, All For One planted that evidence to trick the Pro Heroes into thinking Shigaraki is nearing his finalization so he can draw them into a trap. For now, though, I’m choosing to take this as an example for how an antagonist should be written: capable, smart, and not just getting by on the plot deciding they should win.

I had said about the previous chapter how that one felt incomplete. But I can’t say that any of Stain’s story in this arc has felt incomplete. I usually hate bouncing back and forth between flashbacks and timeskips in stories (but I’ll say more about that later when getting back to some Episode 7 posts), but going back to explain how Stain got the information from Tartarus worked for me. It wasn’t just to fill in back story; it also clarified what Stain thinks his role is right now, after what he did in Vigilantes and what he did to Iida’s brother: at least to me, or maybe because by now readers are more familiar with him, he seems to have more self-awareness. There is no glee like there seemed to be when he took down crime bosses and unintentional Villains in Vigilantes, or when he disabled Tensei. He seems oddly more rational--which is terrifying, given how much to shit society has gone in the manga, where someone like Stain seems reasonable compared to All For One gathering enforcers from Tartarus. It’s kind of fitting that the chapter that really re-introduced Stain to this series was titled “Who Are You Really?” which is pretty much the question that surviving Tartarus guard said to Stain, whether he will be a hero or another villain.

(Speaking of that guard: we’re told pretty much all the guards at Tartarus died, whether killed by the prison escape, the building’s damage, or drowning. But wasn’t there one guard that All For One’s team took with them to pilot their escape? I’m not getting my hopes up that Shishikura’s father survived, but it would be a waste to kill him off just to motivate Shishikura instead of that motivation being in part to rescue his dad. Granted, I’m skittish around killing characters before their usefulness is exploited, as awful as that is to phrase, but unfortunately, I just complained about fridging, so I’m being annoying right now.)

After that back story for Stain, we catch up to All Might returning from his pep talk to Izuku to meet with Tsukauchi. For a lot of reasons, Tsukauchi has been criticized by fans, some of inspired for good reasons by our moment of reception (many police not meeting the standards set for them in the wake of their unjustified violence, especially against marginalized people) and some that are either plot-based (he is not the biggest fan of our protagonists in Vigilantes and actively upsets their work) or undeserved (he’s actually been competent by this point in the manga). So, it’s weird to hear him complain about needing Stain’s help--when, given how bad things are in Japan in this story, he’s not exactly doing that great a job himself.

Also, poor Sansa back there has a head scar now.

Where this chapter falls apart a bit for me is its attempt at worldbuilding. I appreciate that we are learning along with All Might just how One For All works. He himself didn’t quite get what Izuku was seeing of the Vestiges way back in the Sports Festival Arc, so it makes sense that he is our audience surrogate to explain to Sansa and readers just what he can and can’t sense of them when near Izuku. The problem I’m having is that this is information related to about a month or so ago when he was with Izuku in the hospital. It wasn’t as clear to me then that All Might had this much of a deep understanding of One For All, so to now have it explained in this detail feels like we’re skipping some steps in logic. It’s not unbelievable that All Might needed that month to finally understand all of this; it’s just bothersome as a reader to have the info dump happen in this manner. I understand that info-dump would have disrupted the narrative flow in those earlier chapters; I also think delaying that information until now is frustrating, the equivalent of having to set down this chapter to go back to the earlier ones. It’s not the joy of re-reading a story with new appreciation for something else to discover in the earlier chapters; it’s more like reading a textbook and having to skip to endnotes at the back of the book to read something in more detail.

And speaking of getting buried in needless confusing self-contradicting explanations: the manga then cuts to a Pro Hero version of the United Nations, full of shadowy people explaining how it’s too difficult to coordinate nations to convince them to let their Pro Heroes go to Japan and help with relief efforts. It’s bad enough how much I hate “shadowy people in government” as a trope: it felt lazy in the first Avengers film, and after more than four years in the United States having to hear deep state bullshit by hucksters and far-right fascists, no, I’m not up for such symbols that don’t put a face on the people responsible. I know I’m invoking Avatar: The Last Airbender so soon after talking it up in the previous chapter review, but we delayed showing Ozai’s face to make him faceless so that, when it is finally revealed, and he looks like a normal guy, we realize how this evil can come from even the most normal looking person, especially as a contrast between his unscarred face and Zuko’s scarred face, where the scar in a lot of stories is traditionally used to mark someone as ugly and therefore evil, while Avatar shows how obviously prejudiced, wrong, and illogical such mental and symbolic associations are. I know it would take more work to draw designs for all these bureaucrats, but give them faces, make them known, make them actual characters. I get that making them relatable causes as much of a problem as making them too relatable and therefore making their absurd points logical, but I can’t stand to keep perpetuating “deep state shadow government” nonsense in destabilized times.

Then again, when it comes to the delays in sending out the Pro Heroes, it’s not that unbelievable or unrealistic, given how bureaucracy hampers international relief efforts all the time in the real world. But it’s just bizarre, for a work of fiction that has shown Pro Hero society making so many advancements yet still bogged down by something so quotidian in a fantastic setting. Granted, I’ve repeated over and over again in these reviews how I thought this setting was a utopia--a world where people of different abilities and sizes had accommodations with regard to clothing, housing, and buildings--only to have later chapters undermine all of that--housing for giant-size people is in inconvenient locations, subsidies are not easy to get for being giant-size, people with non-human appearances are abused and tormented.

But, to the story’s credit, ending with Star and Stripe ignoring such bureaucracy, so, this is very much Horikoshi having his cake and eating it, too.

And I hate to end this review on a down note, but I am cringing at potential unfortunate implications incoming. Star and Stripe is riding atop what looks like a futuristic fighter plane that, I have to imagine, within this plot, is related to the United States government and, if not, at least by her entire US-patriotic theming, might as well be. And she’s flying a couple of these fighter planes to Japan. I really, really am trying not to cringe at potential invoking of the United States’ attack on Japan during World War II, and I’m really trying to hope the story won’t make some misguided references to nuclear bombing. I know this is a stretch, but after the trouble Horikoshi rightly faced for how he named All For One’s doctor, it would not surprise me. Plus, it’s not as if this hasn’t been a difficulty in localizing these Japanese works in United States audiences: I play that Bungo Stray Dogs mobile app game all the time, but there’s a reason that game, upon initial release in the United States, almost immediately changed a special move’s name from “Kamikaze” to “Beatdown.” And seeing as that Bungo film ends with Agatha Christie almost carpet-bombing Japan, yeah, you’ll forgive me if a lot of these thoughts are circulating in my mind anticipating what could happen next in this series.

[nighttimepixels]

someone asked me a really fun & interesting question that i got to answer earlier about my girls and now i’m curious about the lilytale ladies, if they were to be goddesses what would each of their domains be?

H… holy hell I love this ask,, guess who is weak for deity-type AUs?? THIS CHICK. It could go so many ways with them, tbh, but let’s go with…

(shortened list here, details about them under the cut! :D)

Serif (Lady UT Sans): Goddess of Stories and Memory

Vellum (Lady UT Pap): Goddess of Exploration and Discovery

Sapphire (Lady US Sans): Goddess of Light and Warmth

Amber (Lady US Pap): Goddess of Muses and Inspiration

Crimson (Lady UF Sans): Goddess of Combat and Bloodshed

Scarlet (Lady UF Pap): Goddess of the Hunt and Cold

Pepper (Lady SF Sans): Goddess of Passion and Greed

Cinnamon (Lady SF Pap): Goddess of Desire and Envy

Blade (Lady HT Sans): Goddess of Harvest and Ritual Madness

Twist (Lady HT  Pap): Goddess of New Growth and Spiritual Ecstasy

Alpha (Lady Q Sans): Goddess of Invention and Ingenuity

Glyph (Lady G!Sans): Goddess of Music and Dance

Dusk (Lady HF Sans): Goddess of the Lost and Forgotten

Dawn (Lady HF Pap): Goddess of the Untamed and Abandoned

Serif (Lady UT Sans): Goddess of Stories and Memory

Be it history or legends or the excitement of a bard’s tale, Serif is the one mortals seek for support in this. She’s a very accommodating goddess, in fact, and though she enjoys offerings of any sort of homemade food or pillow or blanket, her favorite off-beat offering is precisely what she reigns over - a story, told from the heart. Her followers are often the ones seeking to establish celebrations of stories in local communities, both real and fiction, and the murky in between, and the more stories you share or inspire, the more likely you are to find her favor.

Too, if you cross her - or, as mortals tell it, even if you cross her deific sister or strange associated friends of her fellow goddesses, you’ll find your memory wavering in crucial moments, your stories flat, your histories lost, your spark for that weaving of tales that unites all mortals all but severed.

Vellum (Lady UT Pap): Goddess of Exploration and Discovery

She’s a popular goddess not just among those setting out on journeys, but with those attempting to discover things about themselves, or in their field of passion - and particularly amongst children! Loving parents frequently seek Vellum’s blessing to help inspire bright-eyed children to maintain that spark with ever more life. You’ll have even better luck if you offer her sweets or proof of discovery - and most difficult but rewarding of all, if you can bring her something that allows her a discovery and bit of exploration of her own! (Rumor has it, clever puzzles are a great way to go if you’ve a mind for them…)

Her favor usually just recedes rather than turns outright sour if it does at all, and that’s mostly when you prove yourself cruel to others. However, if you purposely snuff out someones sense of wonder & eagerness to discover, you may find yourself on the rare outright bad side of her opinion… and godspeed to any mortal that thinks they can survive long without blessings in regards to discovery in their everyday life.

Sapphire (Lady US Sans): Goddess of Light and Warmth

The rising sun, the kindle of the hearth, the flicker of a lantern, the gentle guidance of the moon and stars - all these are in Sapphire’s domain, and all these make her all the more loved. She’s nothing so raging as fire, but without her mortals would be well and truly lost - and so for her, people tend to rejoice. Her temples are frequently overflowing with offerings, glimmering rocks that catch the light, a blanket laid out to be taken by those less fortunate to keep themselves warm, a warm cup of tea, a few matches.

Her followers are adamant that she particularly prefers things in her domain that can be of use to those who truly need them, and so are open to be taken should the need truly arise. They’re right, of course - though you might find yourself of the very sour side of her favor if you take of (or withhold) these things without need… particularly if it’s on purpose/in spite. Good luck in those cold nights after you’ve proven yourself cruel, when you can’t seem to hide from the whisper of a breeze that snuffs your every match, when the nights seem darker, the stars obscured by clouds… She’s hard to piss off, but not impossible.

Amber (Lady US Pap): Goddess of Muses and Inspiration

Creatives the world over celebrate the blessings of Amber! She’s a tricky one at times, often pictured with an ineffable, almost mischievous smile - her blessings can come with a twist. You may not know how you’ll be inspired, but frequently it’s not how you expect - but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Her most ardent followers (artists, writers, musicians, craftspeople - but also countless workers of all fields) often laugh as they curse and thank her in the same breath, inspired for a dozen new things as much as their current work.

She’s got a lesser affiliation with seeking help in finding new paths in life in general - but she’s got a good track record with those that think to seek her help in this regard. And hey, if you’re leaving her baked goods or the results of your latest inspiration, then you’re likely in her good graces.

Crimson (Lady UF Sans): Goddess of Combat and Bloodshed

A fierce goddess that some are a bit too nervous to pray to - but most seek her help at some point in life. War and fighting are common topics, which she works with of course, but lesser known is just how ferociously she acts on behalf of a very different kind of bloodshed, too. She’s most often favoring the underdog, those that desperately need her help, who are taken advantage of and in a terrible bind; but this also includes anyone who has periods. Bloodshed amongst mortals means so many things, and when in the dark of the night, she hears the tightly whispered pleas of those who fear what may happen if their cycle doesn’t come, she has a perfect track record of helping them. Too, those that experience pain or other difficult symptoms, she finds ways to help them - it’s not always pain relief, but perhaps some sort of reward for bearing the burden of such regular bloodshed.

She sees the red that stains cloth and skin and ground alike, no matter how looked over it is by most; she believes those that soldier through it deserve more, and provides the strength to continue on, dreams to soothe the aches of the heart in these hardest of days, and a little more sureness of foot to carry your weary body. Her favorite offerings tend to involve good liquor, but she also enjoys those that linger in her temples, offering tales of their hard-won battles - whether with a weapon, or in the mere workings of their life.

Scarlet (Lady UF Pap): Goddess of the Hunt and Cold

While many pray to her during the hard cold months of winter, any hunter would be a fool to embark without offering a prayer to Scarlet. It’s rare they don’t; it’s not so much that she’d be offended and curse their endeavors, but they’re so much more likely to be successful or find some good favor or growth in their ability that it would be a waste not too. She’s a proud goddess, yet also isn’t one to stand much on ceremony; a cold night’s hunt, while taxing, may also find you the most blessed by her. She rarely gives simple blessings; rather, through her work you may find your skill growing. Some opportunity arising during your hunt to become better than you were in some aspect of it. It’s convoluted, yet worthwhile… if you put in the effort and show your dedication to her affinity.

Offerings of some small portion of your hunt certainly go far, but she also enjoys long tales - most particular of hunts of the heart, pursuit of who you love… in a consensual way, of course. Terrible things come to those she finds have been turning their skills in hunting to provide onto hunting to hurt… many have come to a grisly end, legend says, themselves becoming the hunted in their final days as she drew out their ending as a punishment for what they instilled in others by sullying her domain.

Pepper (Lady SF Sans): Goddess of Passion and Greed

Curiously, her followers are quite split on whether her temples should be lavish or spartan; some argue that she most favors passion of the heart and mind, and therefore would most prefer that passion directed in a way that enriches your life and the lives of others, while others argue that she most favors passion of the body, and so her temples ought to celebrate physical feats, both intimate and otherwise. Technically, they’re both right - her domain spans it all. Pepper is the Goddess of all things Passionate; be it your skill or most loved artform or topic, or be it your acts of passion for those you love.

Offerings that prove your passion, though it seems vaguely described, are what she most favors; that has lead to some temples having… closed off, private sections, for passion between people that wish for blessings to keep such passion cultivated, shall we say. She’s also a fiery goddess, and even if you don’t slight her in particular - well, let’s just say if you act to quash the passion of another (providing it’s not actively harming anyone else’s ability to pursue happiness), you’ll pay a heavy price and may find yourself haunted by apathy and a bottomless, unfulfilled greed with none of the satisfaction of acquisition.

Cinnamon (Lady SF Pap): Goddess of Desire and Envy

Some scholars argue that her and her sister’s domains overlap too much - and it’s true, there is overlap, and many find themselves most successful in praying to both of them. Cinnamon’s domain is broad, however, and is a double-edged sword of the most bittersweet variety. More often than not she’s instigating desire in others, of varying kinds; a challenge to overcome, to sort through, to feel ever more alive in your curious mortal coil. Desire can lead to passion, or to joy, or to curiousity or to combat; it can involve discovery, or storytelling, or it can turn dark in so many ways… not the least of which is brooding, broiling envy.

She’s a gateway to many other domains, and is as loved as she is cursed. Best offer her something tasty, or else find a way to offer something that sparks desire in her as well (a tricky matter indeed, but she likes followers that get creative).

Blade (Lady HT Sans): Goddess of Harvest and Ritual Madness

One of several goddesses here who have a twist in their domain; she’s affiliated with autumn for obvious reasons, though any harvest at any time of year is best had with a prayer and offering to her. Most importantly, though, is the celebration of that harvest (especially in the fall) - and the celebration of this cycle of life. In the death of what has been harvested is the life of you and yours; in your life, brings new life, to be harvested in the future again… and on again. It’s a madness of it’s own, the circle of life; and the more you allow yourself (and ideally, as many people as possible) to celebrate in a raucous, near-mad party that indulges in the absurdity of existence, with food and drink and music and dancing, the more your following year will likely see good harvest.

Life is for living is Blade’s opinion, and the opinion of her most ardent of followers. Even in lean years, celebration and letting loose is encouraged as much as can be managed, at least on a single day, if not the usual several. Her offering is the ritual madness itself, combined with the act of feasting and sharing food with others. Those that would take without providing support of some kind, that would take advantage of the harvesters or quash the stolen joy of the festivals… well. They don’t just have bad luck. Whispers in the winter say such people might just disappear.

Twist (Lady HT  Pap): Goddess of New Growth and Spiritual Ecstasy

Often affiliated with Spring and Summer too, she nonetheless has domain over new growth in other times of the year… and, most pointedly, over growth that doesn’t relate to plants, too. While every farmer worth their salt offers prayers and first blooms to Twist come planting season, so too do people looking to embark on new paths, to become someone better, someone they can strive to be proud of. Too, she welcomes those that don’t know to pray to her… that don’t know how much they need that growth. It’s up to them whether they notice the subtle opportunities that arise under being under her watchful eye, whether they take the step in a positive direction, but she always hopes.

The madness of spiritual ecstasy is associated with her, too. It’s the sensation of breaking through an emotional wall you’d never thought you’d find crumbling under your desperate hands; it’s the vibrance of a dawn after a storm you never should have survived. It’s the incandescent moment of connection with a person your soul sings for; it’s the moments you’re moved to tears, your throat closing, your body trembling as every sense takes in too much atop a heart that cannot bear the agonizing beauty of a moment. It’s the power in a hand that’s always been too weak to bear what you witness yourself nonetheless bearing; it’s the ecstasy of a thousand voices rising in unison, bonded in the name of a single movement. You can pray for it all you want, but it is no easy thing to get; and yet such moments are of her orchestration, a madness you could never bear for long and yet could spend your entire life treasuring the few stolen moments you’ve had.

Alpha (Lady Q Sans): Goddess of Invention and Ingenuity

Little and small inventions alike, clever ruses and brilliant arguments, moments of connecting those two seemingly unconnectable dots - these are all under Alpha’s domain, and she relishes them. It’s a little madness in and of itself, sometimes, but should you cave to seeking it and see it through, you’ll see why her followers are so adamantly devoted. Her temples are akin to science and art museums, at times; prototypes left for her, people reciting brilliant breakthroughs in arguments, children convening to exclaim over their clever game or some connection that had never been explained, yet they made anyways.

Alpha doesn’t discriminate based on any strata of society, and in fact favors underdogs herself… and more intriguingly, is known to be amused by those who attempt to be clever in their prayers too- so long as it’s in good faith, and not just to be an ass. She’s been known to make an ass of those who try to turn cleverness to cruel advantage, and people murmur about those that get a bit too big for their breeches being cursed after flaunting being blessed by her and get greedy or forget to give thanks where it’s due (not just to her, but to the others around the person that made their invention/ingenuity possible).

Glyph (Lady G!Sans): Goddess of Music and Dance

As on the tin, her domain is precisely what you’d expect. There’s not a festival or celebration that doesn’t feature cheers to her, and every musician the land over frequents her temples which are never quiet. Some pray to both her and Amber, seeking inspiration in their music and dance, others combine their offerings between her and Pepper, seeking passion in their art, and still others pair her and Serif, in their effort to tell stories through music and dance- this doesn’t phase Glyph as goddess, and in fact she tends to appreciate those who connect her to other goddesses the most. Truly, she can be connected to them all, and her followers believe that she is in fact happiest when these connections are forged.

Her offerings most frequently come in the form of her domain itself, followers and prayers offered via songs or dances in her name, but too people may find themselves with her blessing if they offer their time to help others with their own music and dance, sharing the love and life of it. Rumor has it that wherever you find celebrations, where music beats with the footsteps of the dancing crowd, you may just find the silhouette of the goddess herself, dancing and inspiring song without people wholly realizing just whom they shared such a moment with.

Dusk (Lady HF Sans): Goddess of the Lost and Forgotten

Her temples are fewer and further between; in truth, there are only one or two that could even be truly called that. More frequently, small shrines are offered to her. At the edges of dark, haunting forests, on misty, cold beaches and at the edges of vast deserts… and too, in the shadows of dark alleyways, where people can be forgotten in plain sight. People who find themselves lost pray to her, quiet and desperate and alone, no matter how many people are around them. Those that pray, however abstractly, on behalf of those lost and forgotten, too, may find blessings as well, guiding lights home when the night seems too dark to get there, the call of a bird that draws them back to a path, or perhaps the flicker of a connection, an outreached hand, when they were in danger of losing themselves not physically, but emotionally or mentally.

She is not a popular goddess, but she is the quiet sort, at the edges of society; those that seek her help, truly, will rarely find themselves turned away, even if what they receive in turn is not what they expected. She has a particular affinity for those who find themselves lost while trying to help others, or while trying to resist the pressures that would have them or their loved ones otherwise crushed. She doesn’t expect much in offerings; curiously enough, simply a heartfelt prayer, and perhaps a return to a place you nearly lost yourself to lay down a blanket, or some food for another lost soul, will have you greatly in her favor indeed.

Dawn (Lady HF Pap): Goddess of the Untamed and Abandoned

Sister goddess to Dusk, of course, many confuse their domains, and yet their overlap is not as great as people would think. Whether it’s the untamed wilds or the untamed spirit, fighting viciously for what it believes in, it falls into her massive domain. So too are those not just lost or forgotten, but truly abandoned, by the will of someone who had the power to choose otherwise. Gentle to those affected by her domain, and vicious to those that landed them there, she’s a lesser-understood goddess who has a small but fierce following. Her temples are less temples and more… holy sites, in a way, some wild piece of landscape with a shrine built that is almost part of the landscape itself.

Her offerings tend to be supplies laid for those that are abandoned, simple things; but too, she has an affinity for wildflowers and rough crystals. You’ll have the best luck if the wildflowers are native and planted by her shrine, rather than cut down (where it will inevitably wilt and die); those that have received her blessing will often speak in awed, hushed tones of a great silhouette in the distance, five, six, seven times the height of a human… not an omen of ill fate, but a harbinger of a blessing they thought might never come.

[soror-o-n-s]

Why Liber Resh is so Important

As I wrote in this post, I recently started doing Liber Resh again and realized how potent and important of a ritual it really is. I said I’d write up a post on that, and here it is.

What is Liber Resh?

First of all, if you’re new to all of this, or through some circumstance don’t know what Resh is, here is the text of Liber Resh. It consists of four solar adorations meant to be performed at the four stations of the sun throughout the day. 

How do you do Liber Resh?

The actual text of the ritual is pretty short, and without some involvement with the Thelemic community, membership in the A.’.A.’., or some extra research, is not really workable. If you were a member of the A.’.A.’. you would use your grade sign at all four stations, and would learn the adoration from your superior. Most people however are not members of the A.’.A.’. for one reason or another, and a set of informal, often word of mouth, instructions have developed. So for all of us outside the fold, the signs customarily used are:

Sunrise: L.V.X signs

Noon: Sign of Fire

Sunset: Sign of Air

Midnight: Sign of Water

For the adoration, many people use Liber AL III:37 starting from, “Unity uttermost showed! . . .” I personally like to also include the previous stanza starting with, “I am the Lord of Thebes . . . “ as well.

You’ll find another dilemma if you spend enough time reading about this or hanging around other Thelemites as to whether to say “fill me” or “kill me” at the end of the third stanza. You can read Hymenaeus Beta’s case for correcting that word here. Many people will strongly prefer one or the other, and have valid reasons for their choice. I personally use “kill” here since I like the meaning it brings to the adoration, but there really isn’t a right or wrong answer. If you’re not sure which you prefer, try it both ways and see how you feel about it.

If this doesn’t do it for you, there’s also no reason why you couldn’t also write your own adorations, as Crowley put it in Liber O : “These rituals need not be slavishly imitated; on the contrary the student should do nothing the object of which he does not understand; also, if he have any capacity whatever, he will find his own crude rituals more effective than the highly polished ones of other people.” I personally would recommend trying it the more official way and to make sure that you really understand the meaning and reason for the way the original is composed before rewriting it though. Not only will that help make sure you’re getting out of it what was intended, but also that you’ll be familiar enough with it that if you ever end up practicing it in a group you won’t have to embarrassingly stumble through it.

Why do Liber Resh?

So now I’ve covered how to practice Resh, why should you practice Resh? It seems kind of silly to worship the sun in the modern age when we have things like astronomy and physics to explain what it is and how it works; and the timing is really inconvenient for someone with other things on their plate (or who like to maintain a normal sleep schedule). The reason I hadn’t done it in so long was because it just seemed like an arbitrary way to remind yourself of the Work and to work some bhakti into your day. I figured, I’m already thinking about the Work pretty regularly, the rest of my practice and study takes care of that, and I could just pray and meditate like a normal person instead of worshipping the Sun.

First off, let’s talk about the Sun. The Sun’s pretty sweet. Its gravity holds our entire solar system together. Without it all of these cool planets would go careening off into space and end up who knows where. The light and heat we get from the Sun makes all life on Earth possible. The Earth’s seasons are dependent on the Sun. The very atoms that make up your body were all birthed in stars just like the Sun. Compared to the span of a human life, or even generations of humans, the Sun is practically eternal.

Do you see where I’m going with this? The Sun is practically a God. I know it sounds silly, but the Sun gives us life, keeps us warm, fuels the food that keeps our bodies running. It controls our seasons and weather. The Sun creates the heavier elements that makes the very existence of things like the Earth possible. It was here long before the first humans appeared, and will likely be here long after the last human has died. Better yet, unlike the conventional gods we’re used to today, we can see it, feel it, and measure its relationship with our world. That’s pretty cool, and in my opinion, definitely worthy of celebrating and adoring. No wonder the ancients pretty much universally worshipped the Sun.

Now let’s talk about what the Sun represents. The Sun is the alchemical gold, the perfection of matter on every level. It corresponds to the Sephirah of Tiphareth, the sphere of the Holy Guardian Angel and the accomplishment of the great work. In this sense, the Sun represents the ultimate goal of magick. Your adorations at each of its stations are adorations to your HGA, and a reminder of the highest goal.

In practicing Resh though you’re doing more than just adoring the Sun, you’re identifying with the Sun. According to Crowley’s instructions, “Also it is better if in these adorations thou assume the God-form of Whom thou adorest, as if thou didst unite with Him in the adoration of That which is beyond Him.” You’re meant to be assuming the Godforms of each adoration. To expand on what I said in the above paragraph about adoring your HGA, your adorations are to your highest self, and when you practice Resh you’re identifying with that. One of the first verses of Liber AL is: “Every man and every woman is a star.” And this ritual is in one way a representation of that truth.

There’s also another layer that’s hinted at with the name of the ritual. Resh corresponds with the path between Hod and Yesod on the tree of life, which is associated with The Sun card in the Tarot. To quote from The Book of Thoth:

“This is one of the simplest of the cards; it represents Heru-ra-ha, the Lord of the New Aeon, in his manifestation to the race of men as the Sun spiritual, moral, and physical. He is the Lord of Light, Life, Liberty and Love. This Aeon has for its purpose the complete emancipation of the human race”

“Outside the wall are the twin children who . . . represent the next stage that is to be attained by mankind, in which complete freedom is alike the cause and the result of the new access of solar energy upon the earth. The restriction of such ideas as sin and death in their old sense has been abolished.”

Aside from just reminding yourself of the Great Work and affirming your existence as an eternal star not unlike the Sun, this ritual is also bringing you into alignment with the current of the New Aeon. It’s an affirmation of the law of do what thou Wilt, of your eternal freedom and innocence, and that the times of restriction and the dying god are at an end. Through the formation of a relationship and identification with the star in the center of our solar system, you’re cultivating your relationship with the Aeon and with the Hawk-headed mystical Lord on the throne of Ra.

Resh does so much more than what the text of the ritual might suggest. I would argue that it’s one of the most important daily practices that Crowley wrote, and it’s amazing how understated it is. This is just my understanding of the ritual as well. In practice, each person’s going to have a different experience and come to different conclusions. In my opinion, it’s likely intentionally vague, and there’s likely much more to it than what I’ve said here.

[brieannakeogh]

Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Chapter 7

Ambition, Butter, and Wine- Kylo Ren x plus sized reader. Crack! Fic. You’re a new First Order recruit. Trained in the culinary arts at the top schools and they dare make you serve the common folk. What happens when you have the opportunity to serve Lord Ren?

Master List / Previous Chapter

Took so long to get another chapter ready! So sorry about all that. Also I think it’s pulling away from crack fic stuff. It’s still going to be funny and epic but I think more to cannon and changes to that. 

Chapter 7

Still upset at him at dinner, you give him the cold shoulder. Which is perfectly fine with him as he reminded you that there would be consequences. In the morning at breakfast he tells you to be ready to head down to the planet Jakku, which you had never heard of. This time you are quiet for different reasons and he almost tells you to stay on board. He hadn’t ever seen you timid or nervous, other than you’re first interactions with him and even that you pushed through. He was confident that you could handle it and if not he would easily be able to protect you from the riff-raff on the surface. 

Loaded onto the First Order transport ship, you double checked that your blaster was on your hip and your shoes were tied. You saw the subtle shake of Lord Ren’s head as you imagined tripping on your shoelaces and shooting yourself in the gut with your own blaster. 

Thankfully that didn’t happen. The villagers looked like scattering ants below as you looked out the port windows. Once you landed and Lord Ren stepped out, chaos ensued. It was loud and gunfire was raining all around, mostly from the troopers to the unarmed villagers. You weren’t really in the mood for cold blooded murder but when some started firing at Ren, you saw red and were out for blood, or deadly burn wound, but that just didn’t have the same ring to it. 

He let you take out your aggression on a few before he caught a blaster shot out of the air and pushed you back behind him. This one he captured. This was the one he came here for. This was the one that made him more grumpy. You sat on the sand beside Ren and glared at the man that thought he was so funny and charming. 

You were quite proud of yourself after the whole ordeal. You hadn’t panicked, had actually fired and hit some people that had guns too. The important part is you didn’t freeze up, unlike that one stormtrooper that you saw walking back to the shuttle like nothing happened. Lord Ren cocked his head to the side and his helmet followed your eyeline, turning back to you. Replaying what you had seen in your head to the man beside you. 

Back on board Lord Ren left you to your personal devices. You watched him stalk towards the ship’s bridge, admiring the way his cowell and robes flowed out behind him. Even if you were still a little upset with him, you could appreciate the way he walked away. 

He seemed to be in a better mood at lunch, and even gave you a compliment. Well he said you were “adequate”, so you assumed that counted. You had just sat down his dinner when the ships alarms went off. The order to “Stay here.” was robotinized as he quickly threw on his helmet and left. You weren’t sure what was going on, but didn’t want to disobey orders, so you sat at the little table and waited, and waited, and waited some more. 

It was several hours later that he came back and from the set of his shoulders, you could tell he was fuming. “What are you still doing here?” His words clipped and even with the voicecoder you could hear the menace he was invoking. 

“I’m sorry sir but you told me to stay here, so I did.” His shoulders slumped a little and removed the mask. “Did you want me to reheat your food? I put the plate in the cooler while you were gone or I could fix you something else?” 

He just shook his head and started removing his outer layer, throwing it on the small couch. “You may go.” You just nodded, not wanting to upset him further with your words, but before you could make it to the door he spoke again. “You were right.” It brought you up short. “The storm trooper, he defected and helped the prisoner to escape. On top of which we couldn’t even track them down on Jakku. Hux should just listen when I tell him to use clones, then things like this wouldn’t happen!” He sat heavily on the couch with his fingers pulling at his hair. 

You slowly walk up to him and pry his hands away from his locks. “You shouldn’t be so rough with your hair. You wouldn’t be half as attractive without it. Then Hux really wouldn’t listen to anything you say.” He huffed out a startled laugh, not expecting your reply. Combing through his hair, you set it back to rights. “Why don’t I make us some comfort food? Was there anything you liked to eat as a kid?” 

His eyes darkened a bit and he stood up abruptly. “No, just leave.” Walking into his bedroom and slamming the door. Sighing, you do as he asks. 

On the way to your quarters you hear from the rumor mill what happened. What Kylo had told you was true. A storm trooper helped the prisoner escape, but what he really wanted was a little BB8 unit that also escaped Jakku with two fugitives. The disturbing part is the fact that the messenger to Lord Ren was force choked and is now in the medical wing, along with a whole section having to be closed from light saber damage. You decided at that moment you didn’t care what he said, you were going to make him something anyways. 

An hour later you were walking back to his quarters with a tray full of all your favorites from childhood, along with some milk and cookies, because who didn’t love milk and cookies? You knock on his door when it doesn’t immediately open up for you. “Open please. I made you second dinner.” You knock again. “I made all...I mean my...well I just guessed what you liked. If you don’t open up I’m gonna sit here and eat it all.” The door opens then and you see him standing in his bedroom doorway in his PJ’s and wet hair. 

“Of course you would eat it all, they are all your favorites.” He moves to the little table to sit as you start to unload the pile on, pulling out two plates.

“Don’t blame me. You refused to tell me what you wanted so I figured that most kids were alike.” He snorts at this. Pulling off the lids and setting out containers he looks questionable about a few dishes, but those were regional items and your mom wasn’t the best cook in the world, plus she liked to experiment, but you still craved it sometimes. He doesn’t comment when you take a seat beside him filling up your plate while he does the same. It’s mostly silent while you eat, other than the scrape of metal on ceramic. He finishes before you again and very unsubtle looks around like something is missing. “Can’t wait for me to finish before dessert?” Raising an eyebrow to him and you smile as he clears his throat, settling down, almost becoming deathly still. You get up, even with food left on your plate, to go heat up the cookies and pour the milk. 

The plate is hot to the touch, but you make it to the table without burning yourself. Simple chocolate chip cookies set in front of him with a glass of cold milk. His shoulders slump a little more after each bite and you know he’s starting to relax a bit more. It’s at this time you want to know the truth. “Are we going back to the freezing world?” He ignores you and continues to eat the cookies. “I just need to know if we aren’t because I would have to change the food choice. I’m surprised they didn’t stock the kitchens enough.” 

“It’s because of me. I told them we would only be gone a few days, but Hux fails along with Captain Phasma not sending that traitor to a mental reset!” His voice starting neutral before converting to harsh venom. The sound and clatter when his fist hits the table has you react startled, more so than the first time you met him. This time you weren’t in fear for yourself but in fear for him. Even though none of it had been his problem, and his failure, he was being blamed for everything. You could hear the talking whispers about what happened in the last few hours, the officers and troopers alike giving him the blame, not their superior. 

This thought went straight through your head before you looked up to make sure he wasn’t reading your thoughts. His eyes locked onto yours and you knew he had. That he had seen all of the guilt people were placing on him. “I know already. They don’t matter, none of them matter. Snoke will trust me on this. He has to trust me...Regardless, I will fix it and learn what I need, even if I kill them all.” 

“So do you think that will take one week or two?” He smirked at your confidence as you both went back to eating. 

Next Chapter

Alright! Hopefully next chapter won’t take so long. I got to go back and watch the first movie of this thing so I can keep it close to what happens, at least at first. Let me know what you think!!

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