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dreamqueenkala · 2 years

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DEJA VU

The Lacuna Effect: The impact that ones unfilled spaces and gaps between reality and dreams have on ones identity, purpose and belonging; the plain between reality and lucid dreams.

INTRODUCTION

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Everyone dreams. Even if some don’t believe they do, or claim they never have, they do. Dreams aren’t optional for humans or even animals. We cannot control whether we experience them or not, we cannot control what they mean. Those who claim they never dream, simply lack the willpower to remember them. They’re not a chore. Or a curse. Dreams are a privilege. A window into the soul of ourselves and others.

There are some out there with the ability to manipulate the course of their dreams. This is called lucid dreaming. Those with this ability can become conscious within their dreams, altering the course of what their subconscious would have decided. It’s not common, yet it’s not unheard of. What is unknown is the space between.

Very few people are aware of the time and space between their conscious reality and their subconscious dreamscape. This space is the defined essence of a person—their sense of self and their value in the world. For most, it is beyond reach, a shadow beneath their feet as they carry forward with their lives.

For me, that’s a different story.

I am conscious of both my reality and my dreams. I can force myself to experience this space between both, a dark, empty, presence-less void. No sound, no vision, no feeling. Empty. And yet, this void acts as a tool. It defines who I am just like anyone else, but I also define it.

Late at night, when I find my dreams are unwelcome or boring, I force them to slip away, leaving myself to float in the parallel between. It used to be a pleasant place, a way for me to escape the burdens of an endangered childhood, the stress of being raised by a single father, somewhere to hide when my mothers death haunted my mind. It was once my haven, my guide, my paradise.

And then I grew older. The pain I’d bottled away grew stronger, the glass it was enveloped in cracking on every surface. It built and built and built, pressure rising as I struggled to handle it all. The joy and laughter and kindness I once expressed with every breath and every gaze, was gone the moment the glass shattered.

That was when the void became my enemy, a graveyard full of sins and sorrows my small heart shouldn’t have been forced to bear.

My mother had died when I was three. Her memory became a ghost, haunting me til I reached the age of seven. At age seven, I died. At least, a part of me did. My father blamed himself for both my mothers death and the shell I had become, turning to alcohol to wash the pain away. He became colder, quieter, a brick wall compared to the loving, affectionate, jovial man who’d brought me into the world. He lost his smile, the twinkle in his eye. His badge became his focus, the familiar red and blue flashes his lifestyle, the siren the mask of his cries.

I spent most nights alone in our house. My Ma and Pa wanted nothing to do with me. Demon spawn, they’d called me many times. My mere presence brought upon their wrinkled faces disgust and loathing, a combination I could only vaguely remember them expressing when my mother was still alive. My cousins, whispering to each other, watched me from a distance most days as I sat outside in the grass and twisted flower stems together in my hands. I’d always loved to craft flower crowns, as it was one of the few fond memories I had of my mother. Though, after I’d lost her, I’d taken to twisting the rose bushes into crowns instead, my palms permanently scarred from the thorns I never bothered to cut. My two uncles barely paid me any mind except to cast me a smile when our gazes rarely met.

At age 13, my father woke me in the middle of the night and carried me to his patrol car. My Ma and Pa were out cold, as were the rest of my family, meaning we wouldn’t be stopped. My father never said a word that night, at least not during the car ride to the station. He’d led me up the steps to his room in the very back corner, tucking me into his bed. With a simple kiss on the forehead, my fathers teary eyes and the quiver in his lip as he caressed my pale cheek, I could see the words he’d expressed silently. The remorse was so blatantly obvious, but it needn’t be expressed. I’d forgiven him a long time ago for the neglect I’d been granted. I knew he was hurting more than I was, after all, he’d known my mother longer than I ever had.

I spent months sleeping on that bed, my father taking the couch when I was able to coax him to rest for a while. Most of the time he was driving around the county looking for people to enforce the laws upon or a drink to take, something to distract himself from the gutter he’d fallen into years ago. I knew the depression was hard on him, I could see it in the gray that sprinkled along his dark roots, the fog in his pupils from the nights he came home drunk. He was a sad man, even without the alcohol, but he hid it well around others. I was the exception, his only anchor to a life he no longer felt any longing for. I kept him sane.

A year later, a traveling gypsy family had made their way towards our quaint little county. They were strange but sweet people, taking up shelter near the land we called home, deeper into our forests than we often tread. They shared stories of their travels, marveled us and other locals with their “magic” tricks, showed off the oddities amongst their family. One such oddity I took a liking to. A boy, no older than myself, with strikingly snow white skin and hair, eyes as vibrant as rubies. He was a sweet boy, though he wasn’t very educated. Feral, some would say, with the way he snarled and snapped his jagged sharp teeth at strangers, mostly men.

Though, when I appeared through the tree line during the night—the ones where I refused to sleep, for fear of my mothers screams and cries haunting me in that void—his lips curled in a way to smile, cold clawed hands reaching through the bars of his cage to feel my warm skin, tracing the lines of my cheekbones, lips and jaw. I spoke to him in hushed murmurs, his pointed ears twitching with every word or syllable I uttered, his strange eyes alight with curiosity and longing. I shared stories with him, as his family did with us, stories my mother had once shared with me that I vaguely remembered. It was those nights alone that either of us felt truly happy.

And then, they were gone. A fire broke out amongst the camp, smoke curling above the trees and screams loud in the air. The full moon gleamed ominously through the haze, suddenly reeking of danger and death. A hulking figure burst through the trees where I’d been—having been making my way over to see the boy I’d grown to understand—bowling me over and pinning me to the earth. It’s skin was taut and stretched over long, thin bones, bloodied claws digging into the dirt either side of my head. It’s long body was bent, spine curled awkwardly to match the size of my own small frame as it hovered above me. I could feel the warm blood and saliva dripping across my cheeks and neck, the animalistic face before me baring jagged teeth riddled with crimson and flesh. Ruby eyes gazed over me, pupils dilated and deep snarls resonating in the creatures chest.

I felt no fear, no pain, no distress. No tears came to my eyes in fear of my life, my heart did not race, my blood did not run cold. I felt nothing as this dangerous beast loomed over my young form, menacingly hungry and reeking of gore and murder. It’s ears twitched and it’s nostrils flared, and then, with a blink of my green eyes, it was gone. I lay there for a long time, the screams having long since died away and the fire dwindled to nothing but ash and smoke. Around dawn, the sun barely peeking through the foliage, my father found me lost in the brush, dazed with an expression of sorrow. He said nothing as he scooped me up and cradled me close, petting my hair shakily. The blood the creature had left on my face and wrists—not mine, but someone else’s—led him to believe I was attacked, but left otherwise unharmed.

I never had the will to correct him.

I later found out my cousin was bitten and infected, then a month later his sister and father followed. For six years, my father and grandparents and other uncle struggled to try and control them, the beasts they’d been forced to become once every month. They tried and tried to find the creature that had hunted them, desperate to free our curse. For six years, they tried and failed. I stood in the background, watching my father come home every full moon with my uncles infected blood painted over his face and a few less tranquilizers in his pocket, tears in his eyes. I consoled him every time, letting him cry about how useless he felt, how weak he must be to let his brother and niece and nephew suffer the way they did, how terrible of a father he was for leaving me behind. Even then I found no words to change his mind.

Over the course of those six years and a few years prior to his infection, my uncle led a summer camp here on the land. I’d heard stories from him about this kid he adored, quiet type but very helpful, kind. My uncle said he reminded him of me sometimes, just more present. The thought should’ve hurt, but after so long with troubling nightmares, images of the future and the past full of blood, misery and death, and the lack of emotion I’d expressed over time, I felt nothing. Another summer was approaching, the camp merely a week away for the kids, a day away for the counselors.

Tonight, was another full moon, and my father was supposed to be out hunting with the others. It was supposed to be our normal routine. Nothing was supposed to change. But it did.

Around 1 AM, my father burst into the police station. Leaning over the rail of the second floor, I watched him carry an unconscious woman down into the basement cells, her blonde ponytail swaying beneath her cap and her face and hands painted with blood. Shortly after, he returned, gesturing for me to follow, so I did. In the back of his patrol car, a semi-conscious male with freckles and wild auburn locks was draped across the seat, blood soaking his clothes and steadily oozing from the large gashes in his throat and shoulder. He babbled incoherently, green eyes fluttering lazily and fingers twitching as he writhed in his seat. My father hooked his hands around his ankles, dragging him from the car so fast I nearly missed the opportunity to cradle the boys head.

My arms encircled his back and armpits, hoisting him up with relative ease despite his larger stature. Green-blue eyes, already rimmed with gold, flickered over my face, pupils blown and dazed, his vision most likely blurred. I couldn’t tell what he was trying to say, but the panic in his expression and the shock slowly spreading over him made my blood churn.

“Yer gonna be okay.” I murmured, my accent thicker than my dads typically was. The dark haired man I called my father glanced at me as he helped me guide the bloodied and injured boy down into the basement, paying no mind to the blonde stirring on the floor of her own cell. “I’ve got ya now.” We settled him on a bed in the furthest cell, two down from the blonde. I quickly stripped the boy of his shirt to assess the damage, frail and pale fingers dancing over the lines of viscera caused by teeth I was all too familiar with.

“What do ya need?” My fathers hoarse voice shook with concealed anger and stress, his fingers fidgeting with the station keys as he stood in the cells doorway.

“A bucket of water, a clean rag and some pain killers. Where’d he get bit?”

“…cellar.”

“Chris got him?” I paused in my movements, turning my head so my own green eyes could meet his coal one’s, his lips pursed and his brows furrowed. He nodded once and a deep sigh released from my nose, my fingers now dancing lazily through the boys hair as he twitched and whined on the cot. “Gauze is useless then. Just bring me the rest.”

And he did. I cleaned the boys chest, neck and arms as best I could, but his clothing was ruined. It wouldn’t matter anyway. He was likely to succumb to the infection soon. I could only hope the blonde would sleep through it all. Petting his hair from his resting expression—he’d somehow managed to fall unconscious half way through the cleaning process—I let my thumb trace his parted lower lip lightly, my body tense and my ears ringing. Shaking my head, I moved towards the cell door, slipping out as my dad locked it again. Glancing through the bars, I sorrowfully murmured to the sleeping male before following my dad up the basement steps. It wasn’t my fault my dreams were plagued with death. It wasn’t my fault I was trapped in an endless loop of different possibilities, each one far worse than the last. It certainly wasn’t my fault that these kids were destined to be swallowed into our world of mystery and danger.

“Laura Kearney. Max Brinly.”

It was all because my mind was trapped deep within the space between reality and dreams, a space called the Lacuna, where only the harsh possibilities tied in by choices and paths, like the lines on a butterfly’s wings, could be seen before action occurred—the cause of the sense known as Deja Vu.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

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EPISODE I

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whenimaunicorn · 4 years

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Guard Duty

Charles Vane x f!Reader Smut

In temptation-laden fulfillment of @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen‘s “locked in a room with Vane” prompt, I give you a fierce female pirate facing something that’s juuuuust a little over the top. This one falls closer to the fantasy side than the realistic side, I would say. Have fun with it. Warnings for explicit sexual activities, use of restraints, and general pirate-y lack of trust in negotiations. I also used as the opening line a dialogue prompt that @geekandbooknerd picked for me months and months ago:

“I can feel your breath on my skin.”

If your hands weren’t full of the rope, you’d press them right over your ears. Vane had been saying things like this to you all afternoon, low and raspy, whenever he knew no one else could hear. Trying to tempt you into helping him escape. You pull the bonds even tighter around him, securing each of his forearms to the sides of the chair. You can’t help it that you have to breathe so close to his bare skin while you make sure the knots won’t slip. Close enough to smell the entirely unique spice of him...

“You’re going to drive a man mad.” You’re not watching the way his muscles twitch under his skin as he tests the restraints, really you’re not. “You don’t want me to use my hands, I can work with that. Just bring yourself a little closer to my mouth.”

Billy Bones is watching from the doorway. Which is why Vane is speaking to you so quietly, from behind the curtain of his long hair that he’s let fall in front of his face. “He secure?” the boatswain asks you.

You step back from the captive captain. “Yeah, I’ve got him.”

“All right.” Billy looks up toward the deck. “Stay here, keep your eyes on him while we get underway. Anything happens, come find me.”

Then he shuts the door and leaves you alone with the temptations of the devil himself.

You expected him to run his mouth even more once there was no one to interfere, but Vane just gazes up at you, his beautiful eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief and smug pride. He knows how beautiful he is. More beautiful than you. You know that he’s only trying to seduce you into setting him free; he wouldn’t look at you twice otherwise. And you’re resolved to be smarter than that.

You cross your arms and lean against the bulkhead.

Vane’s eyes flit around the tiny room. “Kind of you to give me the only chair,” he observes. “Why don’t you come sit on my lap, and we can talk.”

You hear the shouts of the crew dimly above you. They’re all busy preparing to set sail; no one is going to come in here and interrupt for quite a while. And you’re even a little salty about being singled out for guard duty rather than pulling your weight alongside the men. As the only woman on board, it hurts your ability to fit in with the crew every time that happens. You need to be up there if you’re going to earn any respect. And yet Billy keeps condescending, finding ways to shelter you that he thinks are too subtle for anyone to notice. Arse-hole.

And so, in your pique, you decide to take just a little advantage. Take something for yourself out of this frustrating situation.

“All right,” you say, and strut over to Vane while he leans back with a smirk. Your face is an aggressive pout. Maybe you can steal just a little pleasure for yourself while calling his fucking bluff. You grab onto his shoulders, thrilling at the only tiny amount of give in that solid slab of meat, and swing your legs to straddle him in the chair.

Vane looks delighted as you challenge his eyes from only inches away. You try to search for his real feelings underneath, but detect nothing else.

“Talk.”

The corner of his thin mouth turns up. “Is that really what you want to spend our time alone down here doing?” He shifts underneath you, bouncing you and your open legs. You have to hold on to his shoulders tighter in order to keep your balance atop him.

“You see a woman, all you can think about is getting your cock wet, even when you’re surrounded by enemies, is that it?” Your words are sharp, but you’re also helping yourself to handfuls of his chest. He’s going to objectify you, then you deserve to pay him a little back in kind.

“I find it best to take life as it comes. Don’t you?” He thrusts his hips again. The first one didn’t feel like much more than a surprise; the second one ignites something closer to his intention, rubbing up against your more sensitive parts in an entirely too tantalizing way. You may have underestimated what Charles Vane could do to you here, even with his hands bound.

“Not usually.” You try to disagree with his point, but your voice comes out thinner than you’d like. “I prefer not to fall prey to short-sightedness. Momentary pleasures are rarely worth as much as they seem.”

“Oh no?” Vane murmurs, his eyes tracking your lips as you speak, which is disconcertingly intimate when scarcely more than a hand’s breadth separates your faces. His hips roll again, a smaller movement this time. One that feels more like lovemaking. Your thighs clench around him and you tell yourself it’s only to keep your balance.

“I find it’s always wisest to keep an eye to the long-term…” And yet, your blood starts singing as your palms slide across his muscled chest, guiding your fingers to dive inside the open collar of his shirt. It feels good to have power over someone so notorious, so dangerous. And so handsome. You play with the trinkets tied around his neck, so aware of his eyes on your face but refusing to meet them.

“Just let me kiss you.”

Damnation, he’s convincing. His scraping voice almost sounded needy. With the heat stoking up between your legs from his continued writhing beneath them, you convince yourself there’s no harm in indulging just a little bit more.

Your fingers curl down inside the edge of his shirt. You bend your head closer, watching his face as intently as he’s watching yours. His pupils are wide, his breaths coming full and deep, as if he really does want you. You drop your eyes to his lips and he strikes, lunging forward from the neck to capture your mouth with his.

It’s the noise he makes that does you in, just as much as the solid press of eager lips. Vane groans when he gets a taste of you, his tone a perfect mix of ecstatic relief and eagerness for more. You let your body press in closer, and fall into the play of his lips against yours, coaxing you to melt.

If anyone were to walk into this makeshift prison cell right now, you’d likely be thrown straight overboard. But no one is coming down here. They’ve all got their hands full, so you might as well get yours full too. While one palm slides up the side of Vane’s rugged jaw, feeling it work as he opens your mouth with his tongue, the other runs down his body, grasping at his flank and feeling his solid warmth.

You purr down into him and meet his tongue with the force of your own, rocking yourself into the rhythm of his hips.

How long do you carry on like this? You try and keep track of the time, but it’s difficult as the raw, masculine scent of him fills your nose, as the warmth of his body moves so tantalizingly beneath you. With his arms bound, he has no more advantage to press, and can only meet your movements with eagerness and hope for more.

Or so you think. Vane’s lips travel off the corner of your mouth and you indulge him, holding yourself close enough for him to kiss along to your ear, nipping at the shell of it and mouthing into the sensitive hollows of your neck. “The things I could do,” he rumbles into your skin while pressing his teeth in to scrape, “if I could get my hands on you.”

And though it thrills you to imagine the ways that Captain Vane might manhandle you, you find the strength to remain wise. “Is that so?” you tease, shifting in his lap. “Because I struggle to think of what your hands could do, that cannot also be accomplished by mouth or…” you bring one hand down to swipe lewdly along his crotch.

Your hand is met with an iron rod trapped down along one leg of his leather trousers, so large and stiff that you freeze in your tracks. You hadn’t… expected that. Assuming Captain Vane was faking this whole thing, you thought you’d find him half-hard at best, most of his thoughts occupied with readying to knock you out as soon as you’d let his hands free, and move on to escaping from the ship. And you had also not expected his size. Heat blooms in your face, and Vane stares up at you with answering fire. “It’s a fair point. You could ride me just like this. I would enjoy that very much. But you would be missing out on quite a bit of my”—he rocks himself right into your cupping palm—“creativity.”

It takes every ounce of willpower you have to squeeze that straining thickness, smirk, and then let him go. “You can’t think I’m that big a fool.” Indignation mixes with the lust already filling your body, pulling a wicked smile across your cheeks. You rise to your feet, and with one solid shove to his shoulder, knock Vane and his chair back onto the floor.

A stunned grunt wheezes out of his chest at the impact. His face is flushed and thick with conflicting emotions, his hair spread wide around his head against the deck as he lays helplessly, in a decidedly less dignified position. “You mistake me,” he rasps up at you.

You come to one knee beside him, your inflamed passions still begging you to bring your body close to his. You purse your lips against that lust and tilt your head at him in silent question.

“I want you.”

You laugh. “I think you’ve been making that terribly clear, Charles. But if you really want to prove it, perhaps I should take off my trousers and sit down on your face.”

The passions in his eyes burn harder at your filthy words. “By all means, indulge yourself. I’ll give you a ride you won’t soon forget.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be into that, either. “But what I meant was, I want you by my side. Not just today. You let me out of these bonds, help me steal Flint’s prize, and you’ll have a place on my crew. And in my bed. And whatever the fuck else you want, love, just name it.”

You’re still not sure it’s wise to believe him. But hell, what if it’s true. What Vane is promising is not momentary anymore. And it would be a hell of a lot better than what you’ve got going on the Walrus right now. Bedding Captain Vane, every night… That might be worth flipping sides.

Might. You’d be wise to test the merchandise.

“Pleasure before business?” You suggest as you peel at the buckle of your belt. “Perhaps we should seal our deal.”

Vane’s eyes flood with an eager darkness. “Whatever you need, love. I’m not going anywhere.” His shoulders flex and roll, but his wrists remain firmly bound down by his sides.

You kick your boots off. “I am going to need some convincing. Though so far you’ve proven to have quite the honeyed tongue.”

You expect him to say something seductive, especially with the opening you just gave him with the tongue remark, but he surprises you with a deeper look, rather than a grin. “I’ve watched you, fighting with this crew. You’re magnificent. Every time, I think, ‘she should be mine.’”

Your breath catches. “I’m not that beautiful,” you say, and immediately kick yourself for ruining what could have been a perfectly shallow little fuck by showing your insecurities to him.

“You have more than beauty,” he says smoothly, “though beauty you do have.” He tips his head closer toward you, making his words hit harder. “You have heart. Passion. Courage. Leave the girls that can call themselves nothing but ‘beautiful’ on the shore. I have no use for them.”

“But you have a use for me.” You let your eyebrow twitch, showing him nothing but coolness. Despite the tumultuous warmth spreading through your chest.

Now the playful grin is back, spreading across his face like melting butter. “Come on over here and find out.”

You let your baggy trousers fall in a pool around your ankles. “I think if I come over there, I will be the one finding a use for you.”

Vane’s eyes go hooded at the sight of your naked legs, and the mound between. “Use me, then.” He relaxes back against the deck. “Let me show you what this honeyed tongue can do.”

Your better judgment is drowning out in the buzzing of other needs and wishes. The sheer eroticism of standing over this pirate king with your bottom half completely bared to him overwhelms just about everything else.

It feels like you’re moving in slow motion as you step across Vane’s helpless body, then place your knees carefully to either side of his head. His face goes slack and dreamlike as you bring your cunt closer and closer to his face.

You are so aware of the air moving freely against your lower lips as you kneel down and spread your legs. Especially when you’re drawing near enough to his mouth for his comparatively hot breath to hit you. And he can’t touch you. Can’t grab you, can’t guide you; the commanding man is forced to lay there and wait for you to come to him.

You pause before you’re in his range, though when his breath comes steaming out in a lusty groan, the warning shot tickles your very center. His eyes flick up to your face. “Please.”

A word you never thought you’d hear from the likes of Captain Vane. Even if he’s faking it all, just that moment makes all of this entirely worth it. You bring your hips in closer, and he lifts his head to meet them.

You stop. He strains his neck, and all he can reach is the softest brushing against your sensitive lips. It’s like a kiss, and you let out a breath you did not realize you were holding. You lean into him a fraction closer, letting him touch more firmly, and he works his lips around the edges of your sex before bringing his tongue to bear.

He licks across you slowly, gentle enough not to scare you away, confident enough to entice you to sink down over his face more deeply. The tip of his tongue spreads you out wider, sliding between your folds with devilish audacity, already making you feel things you can’t remember ever experiencing before. You angle your hips in small movements, using the control you have to guide him toward the places that feel the best.

It’s not long at all before he finds your pearl, that nub of pleasure that burns brighter than the rest, and he thrusts his jaw up to wrap his lips around and suck at it. Your voice rings out in the little cell as you wail.

“Best be quiet, love,” he rumbles, pulling back just fractionally enough to be able to speak, his lips still sliding against your sensitive bits. “I don’t think you want us to be disturbed.”

Your fingers curl through Vane’s hair; you nod and press yourself against his mouth again.

He’s as good as he boasted. You find yourself holding your other hand to your own lips, the only way to stifle the cries that he keeps drawing out of you with lusty sucks and those rapid flicks of his tongue.

Your legs start to tremble at the overwhelming pleasure building up in your core. You worry you’re about to smother him but Vane seems to relish it, pushing back against you just as hard, eyes closed in concentrated bliss.

Your breaths stutter as you ride his face in an escalating rhythm, guiding the pressure of his tongue until your orgasm peaks and crashes down all over you. You don’t release him until the shuddering aftershocks stop coming.

Then you sigh and sit back, onto his chest, and gaze down at his rapt and wrecked face. His eyes meet yours, fire still blazing. Something more than words passes between you. “It’s not enough,” he says. It sounds more like an accusation than a confession.

And he’s right; as spectacular as that climax was, you’re still keyed up, and positively aching to get something of him inside you.

“Let me loose,” he urges. “I need more than just a taste of you.”

And with your bare legs wrapped over his upper body, your cunt still clenching and reeling and his beautiful eyes imploring and threatening in equal measure, you throw the rest of your caution to the wind.

You bend yourself double to kiss him, and he meets the savagery of your mouth with equal ferocity. If he’s a liar he’s a damned good one, and perhaps even deserves to win the play. You dismount and tug at the release loop twisted into the knot at his right wrist.

The first place his hand goes is to bury itself in your hair, fingers curling close to your scalp and tugging you back down to his mouth again. He kisses you long and deep before releasing you in the direction of his other bond.

He’s roaring up off the deck as soon as the rope goes slack. Suddenly you’re the one flat on your back on the boards, Vane’s considerable weight pressing down on top of you, with one leg pressed firmly between your bare thighs. His hands are everywhere; cupping your jaw, grasping at your breast, imprinting into the back of your thigh. Rough fingers slide between your folds and you don’t even care about the friction. His rumbly voice is burning against your skin. “I have to have you.”

You cry out, strangling the sound as quiet as you can manage, as Vane’s thick finger slides deep inside your body. It goes in so easily after the way he’s warmed and wetted you; after just a few pumps you feel the stretch of two, then three.

You had felt the size of him. He has to prepare you, to work you open, or he’d never fit. You open your eyes to see his, dazzling, staring down from just above and studying your face. His other hand has scooped around the back of your neck, and his thumb pets your jaw as he slows down the delicious assault of his fingers so deep inside you. “Are you ready for me?”

A purr rumbles up between your lips and you grind yourself further against his hand. “Yes.” There’s no reason for half measures at this point, is there? You deserve to get the whole experience.

Vane is loosening his trousers before you can even reach down his body to try and do it for him. You look down between your bodies just in time to watch his cock spring free, swollen with need. It feels so good against your palm as you reach down and wrap your fingers boldly around it.

Vane’s breath stutters, and his head drops to your shoulder when you stroke him. Then he’s reaching down, pulling your hand off his cock, and finding your other wrist somewhere near his hip. With a throaty noise, he pushes them both above your head, slamming your arms into the deck while his face looms close over yours.

For a long moment you worry the tide is turning, he’s escaping after all, but as you gaze up into his eyes you realize that this is not a threat, this is just him, and how he likes to do it. He’s lining his cock up without even using his hands, and you’re even more glad that he took his time to prepare his way in, because otherwise—

The shock of Vane’s thickness sliding home knocks any rational thought right out of your head. Your high-pitched noise brings a lazy smile to his face, and he kisses you to smother the sounds you can’t help but keep making as he works himself all the way inside. The pressure of him has you feeling stretched to your limit, and he just keeps coming, opening you up so satisfyingly deep that all you can do is wail and try to let everything within you let go.

And then, he actually starts thrusting. You hold your breath so not to scream, as wave after wave of searing pleasure rolls through your body in his wake. “Fuck, you feel better than I thought,” he murmurs, taking the pressure off your wrists to lift up and snap into you harder. His eyes are drifting closed now, getting lost in taking his pleasure. His hands slide down your body, and he pauses his rhythm to get his knees under him, coaxing your legs to wrap tight around his waist.

“Vane—” you start to say something, but you don’t even know what it was when he lifts your hips off the deck and slams himself into you even deeper. The man does not disappoint; you can already feel him ruining you for anyone else after this.

He’s filled you to the brim, the snapping of his hips bringing the most exquisite, delicious torture as you feel your body growing completely overwhelmed. You might orgasm again, in some new way that’s already making you feel like you’ve never actually come, for real, in your whole life before this.

A long, punctuated growl is simmering in the back of Vane’s throat, and from the grip of his hands ‘round your hips you assume, can only hope, really, that he is close too. You feel like you’ll shatter if this mind-numbing bliss is to carry on much longer. “Vane, I—” you hear yourself begging vaguely, not sure if you’re asking him to stop or to make sure that he drives you over the edge again, as fast as he can.

He shifts something and you are almost immediately obliterated. His pounding has become focused on some particular spot so agonizingly sweet that the rush extends to every muscle in your body, clenching you up in heat and joy in a peak that almost makes you black out before it’s over.

As the swirling ecstasy only begins to settle, you hear Vane groan your name, low and long, feel him bending over your body and holding himself deeply sheathed inside you as his cock jumps and twitches on its own. You squeeze your legs around him tighter, and he gasps and curses his way through the rest of his release.

Then he slumps on top of you, somehow flattening his body over yours without actually letting his cock slip out. He shudders every time you squeeze ‘round it, which you find to be an amusing payback for the way that his solid weight is only barely not crushing you.

When he’s caught his breath, he lifts his head and chest to look you in the eyes again. His expression is slack, unguarded, almost boyish as he gazes down at you, his smile sleepy and his big arms wrapping you up snugly. “How’s that for convincing?”

A smile tugs at your own lips, and you let it spread wide across your cheeks, enjoying the way it lights up his face like a mirror. “I am...quite satisfied.”

He scoops you up and rolls you with him as he lays onto his back beside you. “Then as soon as you think your legs will work, we can set about devising my escape.”

You hum a long sound of polite disagreement, rubbing your face into his shoulder and settling yourself snugly against his frame. “No, now’s not the right time to move. We’re in the middle of the ocean. I’ll tie you back up, and in a few days when we get to our destination, I’ll spring you then.” Vane lifts his head to look awkwardly into your face, and you lift your chin to meet his eyes. He seems a bit raw and unhappy. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re not suffering too badly down here. I’m a very good prison guard. We’ll… take care of each other.”

More Vane Action

Taglist is open if you want more Strong and Independent Lady Pirates Who Definitely Don’t Have A Thing For Vane: @acebreathesfire @kind-wolf @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen

#charles vane x reader #charles vane imagine #captain vane #black sails smut #black sails fanfic

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ardenttheories · 4 years

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Homestuck's always been antagonistic and insensitive, but I don't recall seeing any of you try to dox Hussie? But please, continue to rationalise how cyberbullying lgbt people for not being nice enough and having opinions about a fictional character you disagree with puts you in the right. A story doesn't go the way you'd like and this is how you respond? You COULD have just not bothered reading it instead of CHOOSING to make your online life about something you hate like a toxic weirdo.

Hi, Kate. I’m so glad you could find my blog. (Edit: that was a joke. Apparently, some anons find it impossible to tell that I don’t actually think you’re Kate). It’s clear to me that you didn’t take the time to read through any of the content that’s actually on here, since you’re throwing around rather wild accusations, so let me take this down step by step.

Homestuck has only rarely been antagonistic and insensitive. Things like the Alpha Trolls - which were clear criticisms of fandom culture - were relatively few and far between, and when we complained about them, they actually stopped. Remind me, for instance, how relevant the Alpha Trolls were to the plot? How long they stayed as mockeries towards the fandom? Yeah, not long. I actually have talked about this before on the blog - alongside other things I thought were negative towards the fandom from the original comic - but the difference here is that... in the entirety of Homestuck, these things were outliers and inconsistencies. They stuck out because they were in stark contrast to the otherwise wonderfully handled content Homestuck went over.

For instance, Homesuck is critical of abuse - especially in terms of relationships. We see through a critical lense the shit normalisation of parental abuse can do to a child - with actual talk of triggers and of the mental and emotional scarring left behind, and the complexities of the child’s feelings towards the parent’s death through Dave - and we see how self destructive relationships can be, how harmful they are, and how hard it can be to leave them - such as Terezi’s very toxic blackrom with Gamzee, which was always portrayed as something negative and harmful especially with how worried Karkat was for her and how withdrawn she became during its run, and Dirk’s relationship with Jake, which goes very much over how communication can cause a deterioration in romantic relationships especially when the two participants have conflicting mental illnesses.

It also goes over how men, though they can be mired in toxic masculinity, can choose to be good. How sometimes we’re not born as good people, but we can become good people through the love we have for the people around us, through frequent attempts to check what we’re doing, through the sheer willpower to be good. Dirk’s entire arc, knowing that he could very easily become Bro but deciding he doesn’t want to be, that it’s something he wants to work on, is so important and incredibly powerful. Mental illness in men is often just given as an excuse to make them violent with no attempts at betterment - so Dirk actually existed as proof that you don’t have to be that stereotype.

In contrast, Homestuck^2 completely uncritically gave Jade, who was cis, a dog dick, made her, a bisexual woman, a sex maniac and the yaoi “woman who gets in the way of the gays” trope, made her a cheater and someone who forced her partner into the relationship to begin with, and made her a neglectful mother after having cheated with her best lesbian friend in something that has incredible recall to just about every futanari video ever - and they tried to claim that this was good representation of trans women, actually, and that the only reason we didn’t like it is that Jade is “a woman” who “has sex”.

Likewise completely uncritically, they made Gamzee, an anti-black stereotype, enter a relationship with Jane, a fascist, and then made the entire thing into a cuck joke wherein Jake being frequently drunk and sexually assaulted was funny because he wasn’t “man enough”. They then forced him to go back to his abuser after he left her in a scene that read very much like, “ridiculous man thinks woman is abusing him, go back and do your manly job”.

This, of course, doesn’t even go into the travesty that is any form of trans representation in the comic. Roxy, a trans man, is barely even focused on as trans; they make no attempt to enforce in the fandom that he’s a trans man the way they do that June is a trans woman, and even then, they seem to think that just saying someone is a trans woman is actually good representation. Not, like, bringing it into the comic - just saying that it’s a thing. And of course, that’s not even going into the completely uncritical lense they have of Vriska, wherein her being a trans woman completely frees her of any and all blame for the past abuses she has comitted, and once again she becomes an amazing character to save the day without a single flaw - which in turn inherently associates trans women with abuse apologism, abusers, and the ideology that just because we’re trans we can get away with anything scott free.

I honestly cannot think of one instance of good and genuine representation in Homesuck^2, nor can I think of any scene where negative content was actually treated as the negative thing it actually is. There’s no critical lense at all, not like we have in Homestuck; there’s just no fucking comparison. And this isn’t a one-off situation, either. Whereas Homestuck does do fuck ups - isn’t perfect - in between the otherwise brilliant content, Homestuck^2 is just founded upon these horrific takes. There’s almost no good content in between, and what is left is a slog to get through when surrounded by the thick slurry of shit that compromises futa Jade, abuse apologism Vriska, and victim blaming Jake.

Of course, we didn’t “doxx” Hussie. Hussie actually listened to our complaints, for the most part, and worked with us to create something that worked well. The way Homestuck^2 was touted to work. You know, since it was meant to be written with the fandom in mind, influenced by the things we suggest and react to. We went into Homestuck^2 with the explicit idea that we were going to be listened to and taken into consideration when it was being written - the way we were with old Homestuck. I’m very sorry to say that, when you make these expectations, people are going to be a titchy bit upset when you then commandeer the entire thing and exclude the fandom from any of the process that you said they were going to be part of.

Additionally, it’s rather funny, isn’t it, that what you call doxxing is actually just people upset with how triggering content is being handled, and going to the people who actually wrote the content in order to voice their complaints? It’s almost as if social media exists to allow this communication between reader and author, which is a fundamental thing you’ll learn in any creative writing course, such as the one I’m on currently, wherein you’re actually taught how to respond to social media and to build up your image with your fans.

Homestuck^2 is an ongoing piece of media. We’re well aware that we have a potential to change these uncritical takes and the horrific way they’re being handled if the writers will just listen to genuine criticism. This is, frankly, no different to the people who go to J. K. Rowling’s Twitter to tell her how harmful her transphobic comments are; because if she believes these things, they will work their way into her texts and will perpetuate harmful ideologies.

The literal same thing is happening in Homestuck^2 - again, such as futa Jade, which normalises the point of view that bisexuals are cheaters and completely trivialises what it means to be trans, or Gamzee, which perpetuates just about every anti-black stereotype possible. Media does have a very powerful impact on what people see in the real world. This is why, for instance, positive black characters are so important in media; if they’re always portrayed as villains, then people will see real world black people as villains as the ideology is perpetuated to the point of fact. This is especially true if the people already believe in the ideology.

Fiction is one of the best ways that we can counteract this cycle. If you make a character that they like, and they happen to be positive representation, and then they watch more media that is likewise positive representation, it’s more likely to stick that these positive representations are the actual experiences of minority groups. Also? It’s important TO those minority groups. A black person, especially right now, doesn’t want to see an anti-black stereotype fuck a fascist, engage in sexual assult, and then enact pedophilia - only to die at the hands of a hero and be laughed at for the death. Surprisingly, shit like this is why we need to tell the writers that what they’re doing is harmful, that they’re perpetuating phobic ideologies, and that we need better representation - especially in a comic that is this widely read, and also has a very large minor fanbase.

I shouldn’t need to explain why exposing minors to anti-black stereotypes, transphobic, homophobic, biphobic, abuse apologism, victim blaming, and the trivialisation of rape and sexual assault (especially towards men), might be a federal fucking issue.

So, no, we’re not actually cyberbullying LGBT+ people. We’re trying to hold shitty writers accountable for the incredibly toxic and harmful ideologies they’re forcing into a text that has always been written with critical thought in mind.

I should also point out how funny it is that you’re focusing on how some of the writers are LGBT+ - as if we’re not? I’m trans, I’m gay, and I’m ace. Yes, I can actually be these things and absolutely furious that a trans women is writing some of the most transphobic shit I’ve seen in a while into characters she then claims to be completely free of blame. We can be furious that people within our own community are enforcing negative stereotypes.

Being LGBT+ does not make them free from blame. We cannot give them a free pass to be racist, to be transphobic, to be homophobic, biphobic, to be abuse apologists, just because they’re LGBT+. Not only because that’s just a terrible fucking idea to begin with, but because it also reflects so, so badly on the community as a whole. As if being part of the community instantly means that you can do no wrong? As if there can be no toxicity within our own community, despite the fact that there very much is and it is still an issue to this day?

That is such an issue, one of the biggest issues even shown just in Vriska and the way Kate handles her as a whole - and, once again, is WHY we need to get them looking at this shit more critically. This view that LGBT+ people can do no wrong and cannot be criticised is shoved into Homestuck^2 and, once again, perpetuates the ideology. This isn’t something to be proud of. This isn’t something that’s actually okay.

Also, your point that the writers aren’t nice enough and that we disagree on fictional characters - well, I’ve already been over the second part. But for the first part, I would like to remind you that they aren’t just random LGBT+ people on the internet that we’re going to because we think their takes are a little shitty. They’re actual writers working on a piece of media. They are official content creators.

Again, one of the first things you learn on any creative writing course is that when you become a writer, you gain a significant amount of responsibility for your interactions with the fandom. This is something that you genuinely have to expect, and if you don’t, then, unfortunately you just don’t know what it means to write something that thousands of people have a potential to read. As a writer, it is your responsibility to portray your image online; it is your responsibility to engage with the fans in a meaningful way; it is your responsibility to not cause drama and to listen when criticism is brought up, to have genuine discussion and not to perpetuate hatred - especially towards your own fanbase.

Consider, for instance, the way I’m talking to you right now. This is the sort of tone that someone should take when talking to a fan about genuine criticism. When things are brought up, you go over them step by step, you listen, you write back - you don’t go on a flurry of “fuck yous” to a minor who asked you why your team didn’t post anything about the BLM movement on the official Twitter, and you definitely don’t respond to every comment with genuine criticism with the word “pigshit”. You almost definitely don’t tell your trans masculine and masculine-aligned nonbinary fans that their opinions don’t matter.

As a writer, Kate and the rest of the team have a responsibility with their interactions with their fans. They aren’t just normal fandom voices anymore; they’re official fandom voices, voices that have more weight behind them than anyone else. They’re who people are going to turn to when it comes to anything regarding Homestuck^2. Their words now reflect literally everything about Homestuck^2, the future of Homestuck as an expanded universe, and the opinions of the group as a whole. They have to be careful with what they say. They have to be held to the same standards as industry voices because that’s essentially what they are - especially now that Homestuck is something you pay for.

Also, this isn’t a point of the story not going the way I want. This is a point of many of people in the fandom being upset with how content is being handled, upset that their voices are being shut down, upset that triggering content is being laughed at or used flippantly and without care or respect. This is people being upset that trigger warnings were removed specifically to make the comic unsafe for them as a punishment for daring to say that something was wrong. This is people being upset that a piece of media that used to be so fucking good at portraying sensitive content in a critical light, that used to be so good at normalising LGBT+ identities and healthy representations of those identities, has suddenly turned to this.

The story can go whatever way it wants - and frankly, that’s fine be my. What isn’t fine is that content is being used specifically to hurt and to incite.

And, of course, that final piece; nothing will improve if we don’t say that it’s wrong to begin with. Someone needs to voice the complaints of the fanbase, othrewise these toxic ideologies are going to go unchecked. One of the biggest things I’ve come to understand while making these posts is that a significant portion of the fandom feels isolated in their hurt; they don’t think other people feel the same way they do, and several people have mentioned feeling like they were going crazy because they were upset with things that the text and writers are normalising. It’s so important to make sure that these people know they’re not alone. It’s so important to make sure that our voices are heard. It’s so important to try and create critical discussion and debate over something that so many people still fucking love.

The thing is, I don’t hate Homestuck^2. I actually really, desperately wish I could enjoy it. I wish I could read through it and theorise, could go in depth about how amazing the characters are, could write long and extensive posts on how creative and engaging it is - could even just go on about how interesting the Meat-Candy divide is, and all the points they’re trying to make about canonicity. But I genuinely fucking can’t. There is just so, so much wrong in the text that is completely unrelated to plot and to the overarching Point that makes it impossible for me to read, to want to read, to try to encourage other people to read. They’re things that literally don’t need to be in there, either; stereotypes and toxic ideologies and uncritical or badly handled sensitive topics that could be rectified so, so easily.

Homestuck^2 could be amazing for a lot of the fandom. It could be something that we all rally around the same way we did for the original comic. For for a lot of people, it has ruined their fandom experience, has ruined their desire to want to read anything more to do with Homestuck, and has caused a significant portion of the fandom to just drop out entirely. That in and of itself should be a sign that this isn’t just a little fandom drama. That this is something much bigger and much more serious that, just maybe, needs to be looked into, talked about, understood - and, potentially, changed.

#homestuck^2 #homestuck^2 critical #long post//#ardenttheories #Apologies for how long this is. I wasn't going to finish it until I got every point across #And that ended up being... uh. Several thousand words I suspect #Anonymous

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wisdomrays · 3 years

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QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: What could be said about comprehending the essential natures of the soul and the conscience, which play a dramatic role in the rise and fall of human beings?

The nature of human beings bears both material and divine aspects. Some other expressions, like angelic-satanic, material-moral, corporeal-spiritual, and sensual-conscientious, are also used to refer, with nuance, to the same dichotomy. To us, it is much more suitable to handle and assess the moral and material aspects of human beings, one by one, as distinct mechanisms apart from each other. I would rather call the moral one as “the mechanism of the conscience” and the other as “the mechanism of the soul.” Innermost faculties such as the heart, the spirit, the secret (sir), the private (khafiy), the most private (akhfa), willpower, the conscious, feelings and senses form the mechanism we call the conscience. All kinds of lust, caprice, spite, hatred, anger, and obstinacy – the features endowed to human beings for particular reasons and purpose – compose the mechanism of the soul (nafs). These two mechanisms almost always function against each other. However, if the mechanism of the conscience overcomes the other, the mechanism of the soul, too, is transformed to positive, and becomes a mechanism serving human beings to rise and be exalted.

As classified by sufis, the mechanism of the soul may become useful for human beings if “it” breaks away from the state of evil that commands it (ammara) and moves on to higher levels of self-condemnation (lawwama), inspiration (mulhama), serenity and peace; these represent the soul at rest (mutmainna), the soul well-pleased (with God) (radiyya), the soul pleasing to God (mardiyya), and the purified or innocent self or soul (safiyya). Due to this fact, it is deficient to only deal with the mechanism of conscience of the human beings.

Let’s take lust as an example. If this feeling is merely employed for its own sake, it shall become a complete source of evil. However, it can become a means of sainthood when used within permissible conditions, say between married couples whose love and marital relations will be rewarded. When the companions of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, were surprised to learn this, he explained that “if a person does not fulfill that desire within permissible conditions, he or she would do it through forbidden means. By keeping himself within lawful terms, he avoided the forbidden.” Avoiding a sin is as rewarding as if one has fulfilled a required duty. This is a very logical explanation, as much as it is very much in compliance with human nature. So, even through this feeling belonging to the mechanism of soul, one may gain Paradise.

As a matter of fact, we may use all senses under the mechanism of the soul as inducements for the beauties of Paradise. I mean, just as one may live some dimensions belonging to Paradise through the feelings and senses belonging to the conscience, he or she may, in the same way, feel and comprehend the incidents belonging to Paradise through some senses belonging to the soul, assuming those senses have been followed with a particular discipline. Indeed, this may be one of the mysteries and causes of the fact that Paradise shall address both the soul and the corporeal body. (As a side note, it would be rather reasonable to interpret Adam’s creation from soil such as loam, dried clay, etc., as to inform us of the nature of human beings. Otherwise, interpreting them as the clay and loam of the world known by us shall be a deficient interpretation.)

Another example could be feelings of rage or anger. The feeling of rage has the potential to make people turn rotten; they can so far as to become murderers, like Pharaohs who have blood in their hearts and minds, hands and eyes. However, if one can activate the feeling of rage when he or she needs to fight for honor and homeland, they will be ennobled with praise and reward. You see, such anger is welcomed by God, just as favorably as mildness is. Now, take into consideration that merely using our earthly aspects correctly can make people rise so high, and then imagine what may happen if we use our conscience well!

Yes, one can reach the levels of angels, even through his or her earthly side. And if the conscience, in addition, becomes part of this ascension, he or she shall be superior to the angels. Indeed, there is no compulsion for angels; their will power is manifested in the form of choosing from alternatives, all of which are good anyway. Human beings are charged with using their will power to make a choice between good and bad. As the award shall be proportional to the difficulty, a human choosing goodness, despite the temptations of their carnal soul, shall be superior to the angels.

Conscience originates from a root that means “to find” in Arabic. One uses his conscience to find both himself and his Lord. Hundreds of thinkers – from great figures of Islamic thought like Imam Rabbani, Imam Gazali, Rumi, and Bediuzzaman, to many others in the West – have handled the question of human conscience with their particular inner discoveries and perceptions.. Here, I want to draw special attention to the terms of “inner discovery and perception.” In fact, saints experience the pleasures of the conscience through inner discoveries, as truths are unveiled in their hearts. Thinkers and philosophers, on the other hand, experience this “finding” through perception. Interestingly, both groups agree with the fact that the conscience never lies. Among the main and essential evidences demonstrating the existence of God, Bediuzzaman counts the conscience, too, in his early works. But later, as he did not consider the conscience as an objective everyone could understand, he discounted it.

Yes, indeed, not every one is able to comprehend the cryptic language of the conscience. Thus it cannot be considered as objective evidence. But, for those who can understand that language, the conscience is the greatest and keenest of all the evidences. No other information or wealth of knowledge can make one attain a higher level of awareness than what they can attain through their conscience.

There are two main points about the realm of the conscience: the point of support and the source of help. With these, we comprehend very clearly that we are impotent and destitute. And, with this comprehension, we rely fully on God Almighty and wish from God whatever we wish. In as much as we bear that need to seek help, it becomes clear that there should exist Someone to give that help to us. Otherwise, giving this need to human beings would be absurd. Indeed, there exists no absurdity in the universe. There is definitely a counterpart to any feeling we human beings bear. In the same vein, there shall undoubtedly be counterparts of those points in the conscience. Nevertheless, it is not possible to sense this for someone who has not listened to his or her conscience in his or her life. Though consciousness is a part belonging to the conscience, it does not bear any value, for it is a single entity. At the time, when willpower is controlled by feelings and the heart, it, too, becomes almost another center of conscience. Like all the loquacious, eloquent witnesses of the existence of God, the conscience, too, is a holy and heavenly resonance that calls out the truth. But, this merely happens if a particular conscience is one of the consciences we have described above. Otherwise, to expect those results from a conscience yoked by its carnal soul would be impossible.

Yes, imagine someone who has completely become a slave to lust, animosity, anger, or worldly status. Whatever he or she does, this person is under the impact of these negative feelings that are wrapped around his or her soul. Such a conscience is bound hand and foot, and it lacks any influence. We call such a person “conscienceless,” in the fullest meaning of the term. These kinds of people do not have any kind of knowledge about the mechanism of the conscience; it is not possible for them to feel the meaning it denotes and its objective beyond objectives. Another significant remark on the matter is from Immanuel Kant, in the Critic of Pure Reason. He notes that God shall be known through practical reason, but not a theoretical one. That is, the nice behavior and actions of someone become, through time, the very nature of him or her, and help them reach the point that may not be attained through abstract knowledge. Yes, abstract knowledge and information can never ascend people to those high positions. No matter how many books they read or memorize, those lacking resolution and deprived of theological practice cannot attain the peace felt by believers. The necessary practices are clear to us: the practices that are approved by faith as good, and defined as “righteous actions.” In this way, we properly utilize the conscience, and can implement its lessons to carry out righteous acts in real life.

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2ofswords · 4 years

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Dankovsky ^^

Oh dear! Strap yourselves in, we are going to be here for a while! Also another warning: There is a mention of suicide in “a headcanon about their future”. (Which is probably very telling of said headcanon… Also: There are spoilers!)

their biggest strength

I guess having academic knowledge is a cool thing, but honestly, I would go with determination and willpower. I mean… while it might not be the best or most healthy situation ever, staying alive while having the sandpest out of sheer spite and willpower is still a fucking achievement! I mean to a certain extend all healers share this drive, but for me the way the Bachelor’s determination works is fucking inspiring and just the thing that keeps him going. While being the one who is like not hunted for sport (most of the time) he gets dealt a fucking terrible hand when it comes to dealing with the sandpest (neither any menkhu rights nor any magic, not being allowed to acquire the necessary components or equipment for his area of expertise, being the most distrusted and getting the least information, oh and of course getting told to solve the situation in a specific and completely counterproductive way by multiple parties) and most of his successes come from going through with it despite that, and screaming at people who don’t want to listen. While it can become (or be seen as, depending on perspective and circumstances) rude and insensitive this mindset is what gets the plague acknowledged and at least some of the measures established as a result. His whole thing is seeing an impossible task and going for it anyways, his entire goal of defeating death has that vibe and while he might never live up to his own standards I think there are things to achieve and to get done along the way that are of great value. Also while it might come of as arrogant, I think the mindset of “Yes I can do this, I will make it” when going against great odds is actually very inspiring and useful. Also I think it sometimes gets confused with thinking one is better than other people or just above human limits, with… isn’t always the case and you can actually see in his own route how it is more of an “I need to do this so I will make it.” But I digress and before this ask completely turns into another “Daniil Dankovsky defence squad post” of mine, I will leave it at that and say, that I think the way he moves forward and tries to archive great things by sheer willpower and determination is commendable, inspiring and one of his greatest and most important character traits for me.

their greatest weakness

This is a hard one for me. Definitely not because there are no weaknesses, but more because a lot we see in the game is a bit situational and/or an amalgamation of different things that morph into one single shitfest that I cannot really find a word for. I have thought about using single-mindedness but I actually think it is inaccurate and a word used often for him that while coming close to what I want to say does give of a very different vibe than I am going for and there are definitely aspects, where he isn’t single minded at all and as I said: very situational. Sooo… I would like to introduce my favourite weakness to give a character (seriously like 80 percent of my OCs have this one): tunnel vision. Kind of a downside of determination but also alluding of the fact, that our dear Bachelor likes do dismiss peoples opinions if they don’t match up with his own. But I don’t really think this is because he is generally dismissive of everything (because he shows signs of interest even in the town and it’s culture when it is not interfering with his work and while I wouldn’t dare to say that his handling of the situation is a good one, I think it is largely enhanced of the whole plague thing going on and also of everything getting in his fucking way). Example: getting really weirdly pissed at Lara for telling him that there probably isn’t any (human) source for the disease is not really being “fuck you, I am better, you know nothing” and more “no. There is one, this is my goal so there has to be one”. You know… tunnel vision. Same with most of his rants about the town that are mostly like “why wont you give me the information I need in the terms I could use?” or “why the fuck can I not be an efficient doctor in this town?” It disregards the towns uniqueness in a way that is dangerous and bad for both parties, hinders his work, and damages the town. It can also lead to my first instinctually chosen word, single mindedness, because it leads to this disregard of others peoples opinions but I think it is more of a symptom and it doesn’t mean that he looks down on people all the time (oh, he definitely does sometimes but I would argue not as much as people are saying) but that he is so much in his own mind, that he doesn’t even think about considering! (Which is also bad but in a different way.) It also explains why I feel that most of his downsides are very situational: Because they are! They are a result of him setting himself certain goals and then being very very hard to change his way of looking at the specific problem. It can be helpful and is also kind of a part of his strength but at the same time are his own downfall. (I mean, just look at the letter of “a” and his complete and utter disregard of it! He has his standards and by god he will keep them no matter what anyone is saying.)

a headcanon about their childhood

Not a childhood one and only a pre-canon, but I think, he designed the coat he is wearing in Patho 2 himself. Or at least with like a friend who also creates fashion and either he went to the poor artist with a plan and that guy was like “are you sure..?” and Danko was like “Yes. This is exactly what I want” or the friend was also into weird fashion and they made this horrible thing their own little problem being like “fuck the clothing conventions, we are making everything asymmetric and… horrendous”. Either way it is a deliberate choice. (Also if the designer was up for the project it is the same one who made Andreys pants. ^^) To also have a childhood one: I think Daniil was one of those children who idolize their parents a lot and talk to others about how great they are. I also think he had a falling out with his father at some point, but they had a really good relationship in childhood.

a headcanon about their future (if they have one)

Tbh I have a massive amount of different ideas about the future and it depends on so many things. I absolutely can see him going back to the capital and getting executed and I also can see him seeing to his own death after a different character’s end (oh, old black train! You have tainted my heart with my own tears! Thank you Ned! ^^) In the second game I feel him staying in town a bit more, but in P1 there is really nothing that keeps him in the end. Though I love and follow every fucking story that lets him stay or get a better ending and in my head I also have a “goes into the capital and gets brainwashed and dragged into the inquisition” storyline. That one might be fun… But again I have so many varieties. If he stays I kind of enjoy the thought of giving him an administrative job and not letting him be a slightly shittier doctor then Artemy. Tbh he is more of a scientist and there’s just is no equipment in town even if we disregard the whole problem with him not being a menkhu (something that definitely doesn’t change after the Haruspex ending). So I like to either see him as taking the Kains job after they leave in Patho and either organizing the houses and/or becoming the next judge or picking up Saburov’s job and trying to govern the town. It depends on who lives and who dies and what the political landscape is like. (For example, which part of the town Khan and Capella will regulate, because he sure as hell cannot step into their shit!) I just think it fits him better and plays to his strengths a bit more. Gives him his own thing to do while he tries to re-establish his science things. And as someone who founded an entire lab, he probably has some expertise and it’s the aspect in town he most succeeded in. But yeah, it all strongly depends on game ending and how characters interact with him because he is pretty much broken by the end of it and needs some form of support or opportunity to find his bearings.

a small detail/scene that leaves a great impact

There are so many! And a lot of small lines that people already made great points about! ^^ I already talked about the “do you condemn me?” line so I will use a different one. Let’s go with “What does ‘erdem’ mean? ‘Arrogant fool’, maybe?” because I freaked out about this one in my second playthrough. I was so delighted by Danko showing interest in the steppe language in my first playthrough that I completely disregarded the “arrogant fool” part which… honestly shame on me, it’s now one of my favourite things! Because it is one of the very little moments where Danko actually shows self reflection and I think the reason is less that he doesn’t think of himself as said arrogant fool and more that he is normally not showing it but this little jab allows us to catch a glimpse. (Also I do not think that it only is “you are saying bad thinks about me, right” and more a moment of self-deprecation, just because the insult is way to precise and fitting to be randomly picked. If it would be, he would go with “city quack” or “outsider asshole” or something along these lines. More what is actually said and less concrete.) I already said that I think Daniil is psyching himself up a lot about being able to do things and telling himself again and again that he is in fact capable of all these things, but that also leads to the acknowledgement that one is indeed an arrogant fool. I think he is aware of not being pleasant and arrogant and while there are other sometimes more direct and sometimes more subtle ways this gets addressed (“I am not nice” in Patho one and generally how people talk about him in his own fever dream and are telling him what a piece of shit he is) but this one… also hits close to home because this joking kind of self-deprecation is just so familiar and common to me. It hits close to home while containing a pretty interesting piece of characterization.

their philosophy/worldview (or part of it) described in one neat little sentence

Urgh, I only put this in the meme to torture myself, didn’t I? Um… I really like his “If you bend your mind towards a challenge the skill will follow in your hands.” So I will just steal it from the man himself. It describes his emphasis on the mind as well as the importance of being focused (ha!) on a set goal and following it through. It also makes reaching goals and acquiring said things sound possible no matter what it is, and last but not least: it doesn’t really specify your ability but what kind of person you have to be but a state of mind you should be in. It is universal. And since I am really fascinated by his way of dismissing other people while still having a universal respect for human beings, I like to incorporate this aspect. ^^

#Pathologic #Daniil Dankovsky #God this is long!#I can only write entire essays about this character...

21 notes · View notes

ninwrites · 5 years

Text

Shadowhunters 3x16: On Clary’s Actions and the Consequences For Those Around Her

No, I cannot confirm that there is actually anything coherent here. Just my rambling thoughts, collected as well as I could. For the record, I don’t hate Clary, I just don’t think that the writers consider the impact of her actions on the people around her and I’m getting more than just a little tired of it. Please read at your own discretion.

Also, shout-out to @magnusbicon for encouraging this & @izzybabewoods for the inbox message that started it all. you’re enablers in the very best day and this wouldn’t exist without you.

Here’s the thing.

In season one, the majority of Clary’s arc was quite self-centred. And that’s fine. For all intents and purposes, she is the main protagonist, and the reason we’re introduced to the rest of these characters - the Lightwoods, Simon, Magnus, Valentine, even the Clave - is through Clary’s connection and interactions with them. As the audience, we’re following her into this new world, and it’s as she learns things that we become aware of them too – we’re not just watching her go on this journey, in a way, we’re going on it too. If Clary wasn’t at the focus of the season, we’d miss out on important knowledge that helps with our understanding of the shadow world and the characters that inhabit it – because it is quite a large and complex world.

Then comes season two. Jocelyn comes back, who – as much as I adore Luke – is mostly concerned with Clary, and rightfully so. This is her daughter, who she chose to keep in the dark about the shadow world, there’s a lot there to catch up on and to mend between them, and Clary needs somebody who she (supposedly) will listen to, to counteract her rash and impulsive behaviour, because as much as she’d love to think that she knows everything, Clary at this point really has no idea what world she’s come into. There’s a part of her that has already made up her mind about the shadow world, about Downworlders and Shadowhunters and her role here, and whether it’s right or wrong takes the backseat, leaving the season’s arc as the driving force. Or, rather, her part in it. Because – and here’s the bit that frustrates me the most – the character arcs, the desires of others, their hopes and goals and wishes all fall second, or third or somewhere closer to last, to whatever Clary wants. Despite not actually being brought up as a Shadowhunter, she manages to sustain quite the assumption that she is the most important person in the room, and therefore, that whatever she wants comes first.

Sometimes, this is a good thing. Often, the line is blurred.

Her intentions often come from a good place, with the consequences falling short because of her impulsivity more than an inherent ill-will. Look at Simon – he’s still in the show, yay! Only … he did die. I’m not saying that I would have done any differently, but from a factual standpoint – it is Clary’s desire to have her best friend back that turned him into a vampire, and by a tenuous, albeit valid thread, it is because of Clary that Simon was coerced and manipulated by Camille; homeless; all of the back and forth mess with Raphael; got turned into a Daylighter; got coerced into joining the Seelie Queen’s court; turned Heidi – and we all know how that turned out; got the mark of Cain; lost his mother; bit his sister; lost the mark of Cain. I’m sure there’s more that I can’t remember, but again, I’m not saying that Clary is the sole person at fault here. However, I am saying that all of this is – per the butterfly effect – because she didn’t think about the consequences past not wanting to lose her best friend. Additionally, I’d argue that through most of the above, Simon didn’t have the support from Clary that he deserved, or that she should have given. In that respect, the relationship between them feels awfully one-sided, and has since the first episode. There are moments, of course, but they’re becoming even fewer and further in-between.

I could probably write a whole thing on Clary’s relationships with people she supposedly cares about (*cough* Luke *cough*), but I’m getting off point. I want to talk about 3x16 in particular.

Firstly, the rune power. Maybe it’s just me - though I have a sense it’s not - but Clary’s rune power is getting a few miles north of the city of Absolutely Fucking Ridiculous, and veering towards Overused/Abused county.

(Does that metaphor make sense? I have no idea).

Anyway. Being able to just suddenly make a portal to Edom that doesn’t just summon Lilith, but literally pulls her from Edom – from essentially the cage that Asmodeus put her in using Magnus’ magic, which has already been hinted to as just as powerful, if not more, than a Greater Demon – without any resistance? Really? Seems a bit unrealistic to me. Because, either this means that Clary is actually an Angel, for all of the power that she apparently wields, or that she’s more powerful than Magnus, and actual Greater Demons. I personally chalk it up to convenience from the perspective of the writers, but that’s just me. Back to the rune – the idea that Clary has this power at all is already a bit of a stretch, especially with how willy-nilly the writers are when it comes to using it, but now it’s reached a point that is just nonsensical. No Shadowhunter is this powerful, not even the great Clary Fray.

Then, there’s the part where Clary is the first Shadowhunter to possess this power, as far as we know; there is nobody that has the prior knowledge to train her, so again – for the sake of convenience, I’m sure – it’s something that apparently just comes to her as naturally as breathing. Which – okay. Fine. They don’t exactly have time to show a montage of her learning how to deliberately create these runes. I get that. But that doesn’t mean they have to render this power unreasonable. Creating portals? Cool. Realistic. I don’t actually mind that, even if I think it got a little to Clary’s head. The sunlight rune? Pretty cool, I won’t lie. I liked how that came about – there was a heightened emotion to the moment, it made sense that a rune would manifest under such stressful circumstances. But Clary just deciding that, because she wants this rune to exist, it instantly will? It will work, just by the strength of, what, her willpower? I know it’s quite strong, but this logic isn’t. It’s ridiculous. It doesn’t make sense. It’s cheating for the sake of an easy plot, without minding the six-feet deep holes left behind.

Now, I’d also contend that as helpful as this power is, it doesn’t magically fix everything around her. Sometimes, it makes things worse. Such as during 3x16.

The biggest thing that pissed me off about Clary in 3x16 is the fact that she decided they all had to do whatever they could to get rid of this rune, because she was sick of it and couldn’t handle it, so that must mean that everybody else has to turn all of their attention and focus towards her, regardless of whatever they were doing before. And what are we told this is prompted by? Her snapping at Simon; (which, by the way, wasn’t as harsh as I think we were supposed to believe. Clary going through PMS probably would have resulted in the same reaction. It was snappy, and angry, and a little rude, but not … evil. Simon looked more shocked than anything. Maybe if she’d snapped at everyone, it would be more believable. But like a lot of this episode, this felt a little bit like a cop-out.)

Mere steps from this conversation, Magnus was lying unconscious because of magic that wasn’t his, that he’d sold his apartment for, because he didn’t feel like he was worth being alive, worth existing, without his magic, that his magic was all that made him special – which, he’d sacrificed for Jace, no less. Granted, Clary likely wouldn’t have known about how Magnus felt about losing his magic, but I do find it hard to believe that she wouldn’t have even realised that losing it at all would have been an incredible trauma for Magnus.

Then again, it does feel like Clary only cares about Magnus when it suits her. It’s harsh, but I sometimes wonder if she’d care more if Magnus had died, or if she’d just be upset because she’d lost a resource. This mostly stems from how she’s written, I’ll admit, but it’s still how I feel.

And I think canon backs me up here. After all, look at what Magnus has gone through at the end of 3A and into 3B alone.

He sacrificed his magic to Asmodeus, the man who abused and emotionally manipulated him, who probably made him commit heinous acts, of which murder I’m sure wasn’t off the table, all after having to grovel and endure soul-crushing humiliation at the hands of aforementioned abuser, who he most likely had gotten comfortable with the idea of never seeing again, all to save Jace from Lilith’s control (only to return to see the love of his life bleeding out with no way of saving him – I don’t blame this on Clary, but it is a factor that has affected Magnus. How could it not?) After Magnus returns, mortal, mundane, barely half of the man he used to be – his feelings, not mine – he’s ostracised by Lorenzo and ignored by the rest of the warlocks from Lorenzo’s command, excluding Catarina, his only friend at this point. Just there, he’s given up everything for Jace, and whilst it’s possible that Clary doesn’t know, it seems a little far-fetched to assume that Jace wouldn’t tell her. If he did, it seems a bit unfair for Clary not to consider that, but then, there’s almost an assumption that sacrifices made for people that Clary explicitly loves – Jace – matter more than the people who made the sacrifice.

Then, because he felt so empty and lost without his magic, Magnus had to forego his pride and dignity to ask for Lorenzo’s help – his mortal enemy, basically, who has always disliked Magnus – selling his apartment in the process, his home, only to then be rejected by the magic, resulting in him having to give it up to not die. Because of that, he has to go through the process of losing magic again, even if it’s not quite the same as his own, which would have teared his mental health to shreds, and completely destroyed any progress he’d made towards feeling better, feeling more like himself. Now, I do believe that Magnus understood the weight of the transplant and all of the ways it could go wrong, which just makes this even more painful, because he felt that dying was a better alternative to not having his magic – if it weren’t for Alec, and Catarina, and Madzie, I don’t think Magnus would have had the strength to give Lorenzo’s magic back. Yes, there’s an argument to be made that he only did it for Alec, but I personally think it was Alec’s insistence that he couldn’t lose Magnus – wouldn’t, lose him - that prompted Magnus into remembering that they were people out there who cared for him, and loved him, even if it’s impossible for him to understand why. Depression warps a person’s perception of themselves anyway; add on all of the trauma Magnus has undergone, and in such a short period of time, and it makes sense that he’d find it easier to do this for somebody else, than for himself. I don’t think this makes his decision or his reasoning any less valid, but I’m getting a little off topic here.

Magnus doesn’t know who he is without his magic, and in this episode especially, but not solely, it doesn’t feel like Clary cares – because without his magic, he can’t help her, and if somebody can’t help her, they cease to matter.

(Again, this is my perception.)

Speaking of people who only matter if they can help Clary – let’s talk about Cain. ‘Cause I haven’t seen a lot of discussion on him, and I feel like he deserves the attention.

Cain has lived with this guilt of succumbing to Lilith’s manipulation and killing his own brother for longer than I think it’s possible for us, as the audience, and the characters of the show to understand. You can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice – he carries this burden with him, and it’s suffocating. Inescapable. He couldn’t get rid of his mark, so cruelly named after him, and now he’s stuck living in a sewer, living off rats, because he’s dreadfully invincible. I have no doubt that he still felt Lilith’s hold on him, like a shadow, constantly creeping around him, that sensation that there’s something over his shoulder, something behind him ready to attack, but there’s not, there never is, it’s just him and his guilt and the sick crawl of Lilith’s voice taking hold of him, the drowning ache that never leaves, because if he’d been stronger, his brother might not have died.

The last thing he wanted – or needed – was to see Lilith again.

I can’t even imagine how that would have felt. Seeing the woman who destroyed you, knowing that nothing could ever keep her locked away, that there was no cage that she couldn’t break out of – he probably felt her power leaking out, creeping under his skin, whispering to him even as the direction of her voice was focused on the others. From the moment she addressed him, she had him hooked. Just as he knew she would. Because he warned them – he told them he wouldn’t do it. The only reason he helped was Simon – because he related to Simon, because he could see the guilt in Simon and knew that was no way to live, because he wanted to save Simon from suffering a fate as bad as his own. Cain trusted Simon. Because Simon trusted Clary. And now, he’s stuck with his abuser, because the plan failed just as he’d told them it would, because once again, Clary only thought about what she could gain out of this, and not how it would affect anybody else.

Because when Clary wants to jump, she doesn’t take the time to notice who could be supporting her fall.

You know who often has to take the fall for Clary’s actions? Alec.

I cannot see the actions of this episode as anything less than taking advantage of the fragile situation that Alec was in, for Clary to get what she wanted. The love of his life – and I refuse to believe that Clary doesn’t recognise that, for all of my complaints I don’t think she’s actually stupid – was lying unconscious in the infirmary, and really, none of them could be certain that he’d be okay, that there wouldn’t be further consequences when he woke up. Because, again – he was unconscious!! And Clary, honestly thought – hey, there’s this rune tying me to my psychotic sibling and it’s torturing me so instead of formulating an actual plan and thinking through options to get rid of it, I’m just going to go ahead and summon the mother of demons, to get rid of it for me, and darn the consequences. Never mind the fact that the Head of the Institute has yet to hear of this plan, let alone sanction it - he’s too busy worrying about the health and well-being of his unconscious boyfriend, so why bother him about it and get clearance on a dangerous mission like this, when we could just, go ahead and do it anyway.

(Because even in this fragile state, Alec never would have sanctioned it.)

Clary doesn’t take a second to think about the consequences this could have on Alec, and she never really has when it comes to missions; the only thing she has ever considered is how it can benefit her. Stealing the mortal cup from the Institute? Sure, why not. It’s super dangerous and can be turned into a weapon if in the wrong hands, and is locked away for a reason, but rules are made to be broken, right? Season one, whilst frustrating, could be brushed off as Clary just not quite understanding the power structure – sure, Jace did, and he should have done more about making it clear to her as opposed to just going along with her plans because he was thinking with his stele, but again, season one.

And, sure, there’s that bit in 2x10 where Alec has spent the entire night searching for Magnus’ body in the Institute because, despite his best wishes, he can’t deny the possibility that Magnus is one of Valentine’s Downworlder victims, and Clary remembered that they portalled in – cause, Magnus made the portal, as far as I can remember – but she lost him after that, and hadn’t even thought since then about his whereabouts, or his safety, or even considered that he might have DIED. But, you know. Season two.

This is season three. The second half, for that matter. And Clary is still thinking with herself in mind first, without even a second to regard how it affects others. If the Clave find out that Shadowhunters under Alec’s supervision took a traitor’s weapon, adjusted it so that it was capable of electrocution and used it to trap a Greater Demon – and Lilith, at that – only for her to end up escaping, all whilst he was preoccupied with his warlock boyfriend/technically making threats to the High Warlock which could, if Lorenzo was so inclined, damage relations between the Institute and the High Warlock – well. To say that they wouldn’t be impressed would be quite the understatement. He could lose his title over this. And then what? Who is going to save their asses from suspension/the silent city then? To be quite crude; if the Clave find out about this, and then pair that with Alec and Isabelle’s investigation into Project: Heavenly Fire, Alec would be fucked. They wouldn’t give him the Institute after that, and he certainly would no longer retain the reputation he spent so long building back up after his not-wedding. I don’t know if Alec would care that much about his reputation, he seems quite content with just doing what he wants and letting people’s opinions be exactly that – their opinions. Of no matter to him.

However, that doesn’t automatically make them go away. There would still be people dying to see Alec fail, to see him crash and burn, to talk shit behind his back because of their own feelings towards decisions he’s made, both in power and before it.

Clary doesn’t think about any of that – about anything, really, that doesn’t involve her. And it’s fucking exhausting. I want to like Clary, so badly, because she is a badass character and there’s a lot to admire about her. But I can’t love her when she’s so selfish that other characters are consistently suffering because of it. When sacrifices are made and her response is to completely disregard them in favour of achieving something that she wants. When episode, after episode – season after season – she’s allowed to just do whatever she wants without care to the consequences and how it affects others.

Clary could be a fantastic, game-changing character. As it is, she feels more like a petulant child who throws a tantrum when she can’t get what she wants, and refuses to listen when she’s told something that she doesn’t want to hear.

I hope my opinion of her improves over the season. But I won’t be holding my breath.

226 notes · View notes

kanasmusings · 5 years

Text

[Translation] VAZZROCK Play of Color Series Vol. 2 Drama Track 2

Here’s track 2 of Play of Color Vol. 2~! Ouka’s manager, Furukawa-san makes an appearance here! Please, TsukiPro, give him a character design T^T

※ Please don’t re-post the romaji and English translations without permission. Instead of reposting, please just like/reblog instead ^^

Under the cut, enjoy~!

Track 02: 「迷える青年×2」 “Hesitating Young Men x2”

[0:00]

RUKA: (on the phone) Ah, Manager? It’s Ruka.

RUKA: That thing I talked to you about… Do you think they’ll open auditions for it?

RUKA: Ah, there is! Alright~! I wanna try for it! I really loved the original work!

RUKA: Eh?

RUKA: Wha--!? Ah… There’s a height requirement…

RUKA: Over 175 cm…?

RUKA: I see… Damn it…!

RUKA: AHH!! It’s only 3 cm…! Wanna try even then?

RUKA: That or, please try to advertise me? Like, tell them that I’ll leave an impact on them with my acting despite my lack of height or something?!

RUKA: Please?

RUKA: Yeah… Yup, thank you! Good luck! I’ll be in your care!

RUKA: (laughs) Yes. Yes. Yes~! Alright, see you tomorrow!

RUKA: (sighs)

RUKA: The 3cm wall is… it’s too high…

RUKA: Damn it… Even though I drank all that milk…

<------------------>

[01:23]

YUMA: Hm? Ruka-san?

(Yuma approaches Ruka)

YUMA: Ruka-sa—

RUKA: (shrieks) You shocked me…!

YUMA: I was startled, too…! I’m so sorry for suddenly calling out to you.

RUKA: A-ah, no. (nervous laughter) I was just spacing out, is all. I’m sorry.

YUMA: I wasn’t planning on scaring you but um… Here, please have this.

YUMA: It’s milk tea. You love this place’s milk tea, don’t you?

RUKA: Uwoh~! What’s this all of a sudden? Thank you!

YUMA: It’s my thanks for your help during my course registration problem.

YUMA: After that, I went to visit the office staff with Issa-san and Futaba-san and we safely finished my schedule.

RUKA: Oh my!! An unexpected choice of going with the brothers!

RUKA: That’s extravagant in a way~!

YUMA: (chuckles) Indeed.

YUMA: They just happened to be free around that time.

YUMA: Issa-san acted like it was troublesome at first but, when the actual consultation began, he gave some pretty solid advice.

RUKA: Ah, I can totally picture that~

RUKA: Takaaki-kun and Ouka-kun were busy, too, huh?

YUMA: Yes. It seems like they were taken to promote a new show and a new project.

YUMA: The both of them have been out since this morn— Ah!

RUKA: Huh?

YUMA: Speaking of the devil… There’s Ouka-san right now.

YUMA: Is he in a meeting with someone?

RUKA: That’s…

<------------------>

[02:55]

FURUKAWA: That’s why I think you should do this job, Ouka-san.

OUKA: …

FURUKAWA: VAZZROCK Project’s first year. I know that you had a favourable start.

FURUKAWA: Not as Kira Ouka the model but, as VAZZY’s Kira Ouka.

FURUKAWA: It’s a success for you as a talent.

OUKA: …

FURUKAWA: Even so, getting you solo work like this is my job as Kira Ouka’s manager.

FURUKAWA: But that’s not all there is to it.

FURUKAWA: This is also because I’m Kira Ouka’s fan as well.

FURUKAWA: I want you to show more potential outside that outward appearance of yours.

FURUKAWA: Even now, you continue to prove that you have what it takes. Do you think there’s enough reason for you to turn down a solo activity?

FURUKAWA: It’s not like you don’t like the job, correct?

FURUKAWA: You’ve gained a new power. You can challenge something that’s outside of what you’re used to.

FURUKAWA: That’s how the Kira Ouka I know would think.

OUKA: …

OUKA: As expected from Furukawa-san. You know me more than I know myself.

FURUKAWA: Well, that’s a given. How long do you think we’ve known each other?

OUKA: That’s right. (smiles)

OUKA: (sighs) I’ll admit. There’s a part of me that wants to challenge it.

OUKA: Not just as VAZZY’s Kira Ouka but, there are a lot of things I want to challenge as Kira Ouka, as myself.

OUKA: I want to explore every possibility. There are a lot of different people in the project and I know that they’ll be a motivation.

OUKA: I think that I don’t want to lose to them. That I want to be good.

FURUKAWA: Yeah, that’s a wonderful thing.

OUKA: It is…?

FURUKAWA: It is. You have no regrets at all and you’re satisfied at what you know you can do.

FURUKAWA: After this, you’ll just have to take one more step as a talent.

FURUKAWA: Well, the day that you tell me that is probably when I’ll drown myself in alcohol while looking at a poster of you.

OUKA: I kinda wanna see Furukawa-san in that state…

FURUKAWA: Please go easy on me. I can’t even handle one glass after all.

OUKA: I know~ You’re someone who’s weaker to alcohol than I am.

OUKA: I know you well, too, Furukawa-san.

FURUKAWA: Is that so?

OUKA: Yes.

OUKA: Furukawa-san… Do you think that I can accomplish both? It’s not wishing for too much, is it?

OUKA: I mean… Doing activities for the VAZZROCK Project and for myself as well…

FURUKAWA: It’s not a matter of whether you can or cannot. I am here to help you figure it out.

FURUKAWA: That’s why… Please do it, Ouka-san.

OUKA: You’ll still push for that, huh?

FURUKAWA: Yes, I will.

FURUKAWA: I’ll try to work together with other managers who work with talents.

FURUKAWA: I won’t make it as busy as your schedule from before the Project started.

FURUKAWA: I’ll make everything count. That way is more profitable, isn’t it?

OUKA: (chuckles) I don’t particularly dislike Furukawa-san’s evil face when he’s in sales mode.

FURUKAWA: Thank you for your compliment.

FURUKAWA: Also, it’s a bit late for me to be saying this but, I’ve actually always thought that the gap between your appearance and personality as well as your natural air-headedness have their own selling point.

FURUKAWA: I’m satisfied that I saw proof of that just now.

OUKA: …! The gap between my face and my personality… Natural air-headedness…?

FURUKAWA: Oh my, this is no time for me to be standing around here.

FURUKAWA: I’m heading to the Talents Department immediately. Please excuse me.

OUKA: Y-yeah…

(Furukawa-san walks away)

<------------------>

[06:45]

RUKA: Uwah…!

YUMA: Woah…!

OUKA: …!?

RUKA: Furukawa-chin’s personality is as strong as always~

RUKA: The famous model manager!

YUMA: H-how do I put this…? He was amazing, wasn’t he…?

YUMA: That person is?

RUKA: Yup! He’s Ouka-kun’s executive manager!

RUKA: He may look young but, he’s a talented manager in the Model Department. I heard that if he sees potential in a young talent, he’s able to get them in the agency by introduction letter in no time at all!

YUMA: Oh…! Ruka-san, you’re very informed, huh?

RUKA: Ha-ha-ha! From fashion to in-house gossip… Ruka-kun’s network is infinite!

YUMA: (clapping) I respect you so much, Ruka-san.

OUKA: Yuma… And Ruka, too. How long have you been there?

RUKA: Let’s see~ From… (Ruka starts imitating Furukawa-san’s voice) “That’s why I think you should do this job.”

OUKA: That’s a bit early on…

OUKA: So you heard me in an embarrassing conversation, huh.

YUMA: Ah… I don’t think that it’s embarrassing at all though.

OUKA: Really? “I wanted to do solo work just one year after our Project started.”

OUKA: Don’t you think that’s being too rash of me?

RUKA/YUMA: Not at all.

OUKA: …?! Really…?

RUKA: Yeah! I mean, that’s kinda like me being a stage actor too, y’know?

RUKA: It’s not just me. Everyone in the VAZZROCK Project have their own thing going on while still doing unit activities.

RUKA: It’s totally normal~!

OUKA: Normal…?

YUMA: Unfortunately, I don’t have much solo activities yet but, it’s sort of similar to me doing university work and VAZZY activities at the same time.

RUKA: Everyone’s got their own thing! Though, I’m a bit surprised that you turn down more solo activities than I do.

YUMA: Me, too.

OUKA: No, well… I see… I haven’t told anyone much about this.

OUKA: I want to talk for a bit. Do you both have time after this?

YUMA: Yes.

RUKA: I do~!

<------------------>

[09:00]

RUKA: (running about) Uwah~! The weather’s so nice! It feels so good~!

YUMA: Ahh… So the agency building had a rooftop park as well.

OUKA: You weren’t aware?

YUMA: Yes, this is my first time here. The view is spectacular, isn’t it?

OUKA: There’s no building more magnificent than this one after all.

OUKA: It’s so tall that people who have a fear of heights feel dizzy when looking at the view.

OUKA: Like my manager Furukawa-san. He doesn’t even dare come near here.

YUMA: (laughs) Is that so? He seems to be a skilful manager but he has his cute parts, too~

OUKA: You’re quite something for thinking of that as cute…

RUKA: (running about) Found us a table~! Ouka-kun, Yuma-kun, over here!

<------------------>

OUKA: And so… This is going to be about my willpower and resolve but…

RUKA: Yup, yup~ It’s about your important willpower and resolve, huh~?

YUMA: (chuckles)

OUKA: It mostly goes how you heard it a while ago.

OUKA: Ever since I decided to join the VAZZROCK Project, I’ve been putting my solo work on hold.

OUKA: I’m… I’m not a skilful person by any standards.

OUKA: I thought that I needed to put more time and effort compared to other people.

YUMA: Even so, you had the image of being able to do your work so flawlessly…

OUKA: I continued with more solo work before I decided to be a part of the project.

OUKA: I didn’t really need to fret to take on any more new projects.

RUKA: Hah~ Not worrying about that when taking jobs means you’re that desirable, huh?

RUKA: I’m so jealous~

OUKA: I guess… Furukawa-san told me the same thing. It was unexpected.

OUKA: I did feel that I was reaching my limits as a model around that time, too.

YUMA: Eh? Why is that?

OUKA: My height.

RUKA: Ah~!

OUKA: My height is 175 cm. I’m not really short per se but, it’s completely lacking for someone as a male model.

OUKA: 180 cm was the lowest line after all.

RUKA: Right?! That topic totally hits me since I’m conscious about my height, too…

OUKA: By the way, Ruka-san’s height is?

RUKA: 172 cm. Everyone around me is so much taller!

RUKA: The work I’m trying to audition for has a 175 cm height requirement so… it’s so difficult…

RUKA: What about you, Yuma-kun?

YUMA: I’m 178 cm.

RUKA/OUKA: (with a dejected voice) I’m so jealous…!

YUMA: So-somehow, I’m so sorry… (nervous smile)

OUKA: Well, I can acknowledge it now. The reason why I turned down projects wasn’t simply to buy time.

OUKA: I thought that maybe I had somewhere to run away to.

OUKA: I didn’t want to look at my chances of getting work to diminish slowly.

OUKA: I started looking for a chance to do anything aside from being a model.

OUKA: I… I’ve always lived in this industry.

OUKA: I still want to cling on to it. Probably…

YUMA: O-Ouka-san… Um… I might not be able to put it into words properly but…

YUMA: I… I think that Ouka-san is a person who should continue being in this industry.

YUMA: Singing, dancing, photos, filming.

YUMA: No matter what the audience will be, Ouka-san is someone who can convey something to the people watching whenever he appears in front of them.

YUMA: That’s why, I think that you should continue being here.

YUMA: Please have some more confidence.

OUKA: Yuma…

RUKA: Yup, exactly~! Ouka-kun’s the type who looks dramatic just standing around!

RUKA: There really are people like that sometimes, huh? I’m so jealous!

OUKA: Hm? You shine brighter than anyone else, too, don’t you? On top of the stage, I mean.

RUKA: Hm?

OUKA: No matter which actor it is, even if you haven’t spoken to them, you strangely catch their eyes.

OUKA: And even then, you’re not being obnoxious or annoying.

OUKA: That’s the world you’re living in. I think that you’re a great actor.

RUKA: O-oh…! Thank you!

RUKA: I’m happy that Ouka-kun acknowledges me.

RUKA: But that’s just me when I’m acting, I guess. It’s the role’s power!!

RUKA: … If only I had the height to actually get those roles…

YUMA: Even if you don’t have the role…

RUKA: Hm?

YUMA: Ruka-san walks forward with everything that’s around him. That’s the kind of atmosphere you create.

YUMA: I think that you have the best kind of aura.

YUMA: I think that you can show a great many things more with that aura of yours.

YUMA: This might just be an amateur’s way of thinking but…

RUKA: Yuma-kun…

OUKA: Amateur or not doesn’t matter now, does it?

OUKA: I think that as well.

RUKA: Ouka-kun…!

RUKA: You’re right…

YUMA: Eh?

RUKA: You’re right! That’s what you’d think, right~?

YUMA: Eh? A-ah, yes…!

RUKA: I think so, too! It’s totally true, right?! I definitely have that, right?!

OUKA: Yeah.

RUKA: (smiles) Alright!! Ouka-kun, Yuma-kun, let’s do it!

YUMA: D-do what exactly…?

RUKA: Anything!

RUKA: It’s the VAZZROCK Project’s second year, y’know?

RUKA: We have to be more daring and confident this time ‘round~!

RUKA: With both our unit activities and solo activities! Heck, even studies and work and even hobbies~! Let’s do anything!

RUKA: We can do it! We’ll do it! It’s going to be okay!

RUKA: We can still go on!

OUKA: (smiles) That’s right. We can still go on. Right, Yuma?

YUMA: Yes! That’s right. We can still go on!

RUKA: Alright~! Hey, hey—

ALL: OH!!!!

==END==

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※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission. Please just like/reblog them instead ^^

#tsukipro #vazzrock #vazzy #rock down #nadumi ruka #kira ouka #shirase yuma #drama cd #vazzrock translations #my translations #CAN WE GET A CHARACTER DESIGN FOR FURUKAWA-SAN THOUGH??????#I wanna see what he looks like!!#same with Ruka's manager!!

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mrlnsfrt · 5 years

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Better Habits

Background

The Old Testament history of God’s favored people is a record of backsliding and rebellion. They resisted Heaven’s grace, abused their privileges, and slighted their opportunities. (The Great Controversy p. 18).

God’s chosen people repeatedly mocked the messengers of God, despised His words, and scoffed at His prophets. (2 Chronicles 36:16) Yet God revealed Himself to be merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abounding in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin. (Exodus 34:6-7)

Despite repeated rejections the Lord God of their fathers sent warnings to them by His messengers, rising early and sending them, because He had compassion on His people and His dwelling place. (2 Chronicles 36:15)

When remonstrance, entreaty, and rebuke had failed, He sent to them the best gift of heaven; nay, He poured out all heaven in that one Gift. - The Great Controversy (1911) p. 19

I recently wrote about the birth of Jesus on my post “God With Us”. For three and a half years Jesus, the Lord of light and glory, had gone in and out among His people. He “went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil,” binding up the brokenhearted, setting at liberty them that were bound, restoring sight to the blind, causing the lame to walk and the deaf to hear, cleansing the lepers, raising the dead, and preaching the gospel to the poor. Acts 10:38; Luke 4:18; Matthew 11:5.

Sadly Israel turned from her best Friend and only Helper. The pleadings of His love were despised, His counsels spurned, His warnings ridiculed. (ibid)

Jesus said, “But you are not willing to come to Me that you may have life.” (John 5:40)

Jesus summarized the secret for success in 1 John 15:4-5.

4 Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.

5 “I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing. - John 15:4-5 NKJV

When we fail to develop a habit of remaining in Jesus we are in danger of committing the same mistakes of the Jews in Jesus’ day. We are in danger of claiming to observe rigidly the precepts of God’s law while transgressing all its principles.

As Christians, we regard ourselves as God’s favored people and expect Him to deliver us from our enemies. But could we be slaying our Savior because He reproves our sins? Are we self-righteous, not willing to repent and change our ways, but still expecting salvation? It is easy to look down on the religious leaders of Jesus’ time, but how willing are we to be inconvenienced by Jesus’ teachings? Are we willing to make changes in our lives to live according to His will?

Do you believe it is important for our lives to reflect our values? Should the life of a Christian prioritize God’s will? In other words, should you, as a Christian live according to the light God has already given you?

Do you think God will continue to reveal His truths to you when you refuse to follow what He has already revealed to you? Could your willingness to faithfully follow what God has revealed to you up to this point affect future insights into God’s plan?

Learning about God is not just an intellectual exercise. Our theology ought to have a profound impact on the way we live our lives. Our spiritual wellbeing, our walk with God ought to shape every area of our lives. It is evident in practical life that a healthy body contributes to a clear and healthy mind. We can all agree that the sharper our mind is the easier it becomes for us to distinguish the will of God and the more likely we are to make better decisions. God communicates to us through our minds. So it is not a stretch to believe that a healthier body, will lead to a healthier mind, which will, in turn, contribute to a stronger spiritual life.

Based on this understanding, I strongly believe in avoiding anything that would cloud my judgment. This includes alcoholic beverages (Ephesians 5:18; Proverbs 20:1; 23:31 ) but extends to anything else that would lessen my intellectual abilities.

One way this principle has been described is temperance. There are many similar definitions and understandings of what temperance is. I like the following definition.

“True temperance teaches us to dispense entirely with everything hurtful, and to use judiciously that which is healthful.” (Patriarchs and Prophets, p. 562.)

What I am trying to say is that I strongly believe there is an intimate relationship between the mind and the body. Therefore, to have a strong, well-balanced character, both the mental and the physical powers must be exercised and developed.

3 Main Areas

I have found that my spiritual health hinges on three factors.

Prayer

Bible Study

Personal Relationships

I also see evidence of this reflected in Jesus’ earthly ministry.

Prayer

Jesus would often spend time in prayer

Mark 1:35 In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place, and was praying there.

Luke 6:12 It was at this time that He went off to the mountain to pray, and He spent the whole night in prayer to God.

Matthew 14:23 After He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone.

Luke 3:21 Now when all the people were baptized, Jesus was also baptized, and while He was praying, heaven was opened,

Luke 5:16 But Jesus Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray.

Mark 6:46 After bidding them farewell, He left for the mountain to pray.

Bible Study

We don’t read about Jesus studying the Bible but there is evidence that He was very familiar with the Scriptures since He often quotes it. Matthew 4 when Satan tempts Him Jesus replies using the Bible. Matthew 5 during the sermon on the mount “you have heard it said…” Matthew 9:13; 11:10; 13:14-15; 15:4, 8-9 (Here is a website I found helpful.)

Relationships

There is also evidence that Jesus spent time building relationships with people. In Luke 7:33-34 Jesus describes being accused of being “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!” Evidence of this is also found in Matt 9:10; Luke 15:1-2. Jesus would not have been accused of these things if He had not spent time with tax collectors and sinners. Therefore I believe that in following the example of Jesus we ought to invest in these three areas.

Start with Elimination

I have noticed that overwork/lack of rest, is detrimental to your health, to your emotional health, to your relationships, to your overall productivity and quality of life.

I am not here to add more to your already busy lives, I am here to invite you to carefully edit your life to remove what is detrimental or at best neutral to make room for what is best and even vital.

What are the little things that eat up your time and do not contribute to your overall health and happiness? What would it take for you to remove these things from your life? What would your life look like without these activities?

Grouping Habits Together

Something that I have found helpful in developing new habits is to group them.

Though there is currently some debate over whether willpower is limited or not, most seem to agree that it is easier to tap your willpower early in the morning, after a period of rest, when you are fresh and have not been weighed down by other decisions.

So if I want to make some new habits, the morning is a good place to begin. If one of the habits I want to develop is to get up early, then I can group with it the habit of going to bed earlier. Though these are two habits, they can be grouped to achieve the goal I want. Also related to getting up early and going to be early is the importance of getting enough sleep. Even adults should aim for 8 hours. This will help you in every way, physically, intellectually, emotionally, etc.

Another habit that I tack on to this one is drinking water when I first wake up. Hydration is vital for every bodily function and I have found it to help me get up and stay up, as opposed to dosing right back to sleep.

Begin the Day with Prayer

Once you go to bed early, get your 8 hours of sleep, wake up and drink a tall glass of water spend time in prayer. Even if you went to bed late, had a terrible night, and woke up late, begin your day with prayer.

If you forget everything else I write and remember to begin your day with prayer you will already have a much better year. I believe more prayer to be the answer to everything!

So make this decision, to begin the day with prayer. And please don’t begin by asking. Begin by praising and thanking God. An attitude of gratefulness will bless you. Do not face life from a position of want but rather from a posture of plenty. Expect God to meet your needs and provide for you and face your day expecting God’s blessings even through all the incredible challenges you will face.

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. - Romans 8:28

Start your day thanking God for another day to live and to be a blessing to those around you.

Quiet Time

If you don’t schedule it, it won’t happen. Do what you can to carve this time out. Once you begin to experience it I am sure you will want to add more time. Don’t expect to find it. Don’t wonder and wish and hope for it. Schedule it, write it, tell people you’re busy. The text messages emails and phone calls can wait. This is a matter of life and death.

You must spend quiet time daily with God and in the study of His word, the Bible. This is how God will guide you. Prayerful study of the Bible will transform your life, and Satan will do all that he can to make sure you don’t have this time. You will have to make this a priority or it will not happen.

Don’t be too busy for Jesus and the wonderful things He wants to teach you and to reveal to you through the Bible. Prayerfully read the Bible every day. It doesn’t have to be a long text. But please do it prayerfully and thoughtfully.

Relationships

Spend time with people. Put away the screens. Look at someone in the eye.

Ask questions. Listen. Be present.

To fail to do this is to fail to live, to truly live. Connect with others. Life is short. People crave genuine connections. People are more important than whatever is happening on the screens around you.

Below are some other habits I am working on for the new year in case you want to join me.

#life #habits #practical #productivity #Life

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kkintle · 5 years

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The Art of the Good Life by Rolf Dobelli; Quotes

Is it better to actively seek happiness or to avoid unhappiness?

Living a good life has a lot to do with interpreting facts in a constructive way.

That money can’t buy happiness is a truism, and I’d certainly advise you not to get worked into a lather over incremental differences in price. If a beer’s two dollars more expensive than usual or two dollars cheaper, it elicits no emotional response in me whatsoever. I save my energy rather than my money. After all, the value of my stock portfolio fluctuates every minute by significantly more than two dollars, and if the Dow Jones falls by a thousandth of a percent, that doesn’t faze me either. Try it for yourself. Come up with a similar number, a modest sum to which you’re completely indifferent—money you consider not so much money as white noise. You don’t lose anything by adopting that attitude, and certainly not your inner poise.

The most common misunderstanding I encounter is that the good life is a stable state or condition. Wrong. The good life is only achieved through constant readjustment.

As the American general—and later president—Dwight Eisenhower said, “Plans are nothing. Planning is everything.” It’s not about having a fixed plan, it’s about repeated re-planning—an ongoing process.

The truth is that you begin with one set-up and then constantly adjust it. The more complicated the world becomes, the less important your starting point is. So don’t invest all your resources into the perfect set-up—at work or in your personal life. Instead, practice the art of correction by revising the things that aren’t quite working—swiftly and without feeling guilty.

First: constantly having to make new decisions situation by situation saps your willpower. Decision fatigue is the technical term for this. A brain exhausted by decision-making will plump for the most convenient option, which more often than not is also the worst one. This is why pledges make so much sense. Once you’ve pledged something, you don’t then have to weigh up the pros and cons each and every time you’re faced with a decision. It’s already been made for you, saving you mental energy.

The second reason inflexibility is so valuable has to do with reputation. By being consistent on certain topics, you signal where you stand and establish the areas where there’s no room for negotiation. You communicate self-mastery, making yourself less vulnerable to attack.

So say good-bye to the cult of flexibility. Flexibility makes you unhappy and tired, and it distracts you from your goals. Chain yourself to your pledges. Uncompromisingly. It’s easier to stick to your pledges 100 percent of the time rather than 99 percent.

Very few people simply accept reality and analyze their own flight recorders. This requires precisely two things: a) radical acceptance and b) black box thinking. First one, then the other.

“Nothing is more fatiguing nor, in the long run, more exasperating than the daily effort to believe things which daily become more incredible. To be done with this effort is an indispensable condition of sure and lasting happiness,” wrote mathematician and Nobel Prize winner Bertrand Russell.

Accepting reality is easy when you like what you see, but you’ve got to accept it even when you don’t—especially when you don’t.

By themselves, radical acceptance and black box thinking are not enough. You’ve got to rectify your mistakes. Get future-proofing. As Warren Buffett’s business partner Charlie Munger has observed, “If you won’t attack a problem while it’s solvable and wait until it’s unfixable, you can argue that you’re so damn foolish that you deserve the problem.” Don’t wait for the consequences to unfold. “If you don’t deal with reality, then reality will deal with you,” warns author Alex Haley.

A basic rule of the good life is as follows: if it doesn’t genuinely contribute something, you can do without it. And that is doubly true for technology. Next time, try switching on your brain instead of reaching for the nearest gadget.

“There are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no bold old pilots.”

Pros win points; amateurs lose points. This means that if you’re playing against an amateur, your best option is to focus on not making any mistakes. Play conservatively, and keep the ball in play as long as possible. Unless your opponent is deliberately playing equally conservatively, he or she will make more mistakes than you do. In amateur tennis, matches aren’t won—they’re lost.

disease, disabilities, divorce. However, countless studies have shown that the impact of these factors dissipates more quickly than we imagine.

It’s not what you add that enriches your life—it’s what you omit.

Because our emotions are so unreliable, a good rule of thumb is to take them less seriously—especially the negative ones. The Greek philosophers called this ability to block things out ataraxia, a term meaning serenity, peace of mind, equanimity, composure or imperturbability. A master of ataraxia will maintain his or her poise despite the buffets of fate. One level higher is apatheia, the total eradication of feeling (also attempted by the ancient Greeks). Both—ataraxia and apatheia—are ideals virtually impossible to attain, but don’t worry: I’m not asking you to try. I do, however, believe we need to cultivate a new relationship with our inner voices, one distanced, skeptical and playful.

So take other people’s feelings very seriously, but not your own. Let them flit through you—they’ll come and go anyway, just as they please.

People are respected because they deliver on their promises, not because they let us eavesdrop on their inner monologs.

Two thousand years ago, the Roman philosopher Seneca wrote: “All those who summon you to themselves, turn you away from your own self.” So give the five-second no a trial run. It’s one of the best rules of thumb for a good life.

It’s called the focusing illusion. “Nothing in life is as important as you think it is while you are thinking about it,” as Daniel Kahneman explains. The more narrowly we focus on a particular aspect of our lives, the greater its apparent influence.

Take the longest possible view of your life. Realize that the things that seemed so important in the moment have shrunk to the size of dots—dots that barely affect the overall picture. A good life is only attainable if you take the occasional peek through a wide-angle lens.

By focusing on trivialities, you’re wasting your good life.

As you can see, if it’s the good life you’re after then it’s advisable to show restraint about what you buy. That said, there is a class of “goods” whose enjoyment is not diminished by the focusing illusion: experiences.

Material progress was not reflected in increased life satisfaction. This revelation has been termed the Easterlin paradox: once basic needs have been met, incremental financial gain contributes nothing to happiness.

Money is relative. Not just in comparison to others, but in comparison to your past.

Buffett’s life motto: “Know your circle of competence, and stick within it. The size of that circle is not very important; knowing its boundaries, however, is vital.” Charlie Munger adds: “Each of you will have to figure out where your talent lies. And you’ll have to use your advantages. But if you try to succeed in what you’re worst at, you’re going to have a very lousy career. I can almost guarantee it.”

“Expect anything worthwhile to take a really long time”

What matters is that you’re far above average in at least one area—ideally, the best in the world. Once that’s sorted, you’ll have a solid basis for a good life. A single outstanding skill trumps a thousand mediocre ones. Every hour invested into your circle of competence is worth a thousand spent elsewhere.

“You don’t have to be brilliant,” as Charlie Munger says, “only a little bit wiser than the other guys, on average, for a long, long time.”

“One of the symptoms of approaching nervous break-down is the belief that one’s work is terribly important,” wrote Bertrand Russell. This is precisely the danger of a calling: that you take yourself and your work too seriously. If, like John Kennedy Toole, you pin everything on the fulfilment of your supposed vocation, you cannot live a good life. If Toole had viewed his writing not as his only possible calling but simply as a craft for which he happened to have a special knack, he would probably not have ended up as he did. You can pursue a craft with love, of course, and even with a touch of obsession, but your focus should always be on the activity, the work, the input—not on the success, the result, the output.

So, what to do? Don’t listen to your inner voice. A calling is nothing but a job you’d like to have. In the Romantic sense it doesn’t exist; there is only talent and preference. Build on the skills you actually have, not on some putative sense of vocation. Luckily, the skills we’ve mastered are often the things we enjoy doing. One important aside: other people have also got to value your talents. You’ve got to put food on the table somehow. As the English philosopher John Gray put it: “Few people are as unhappy as those with a talent no one cares about.”

So liberate yourself. Here’s three reasons why you should. First, you’ll be spared the emotional roller coaster. In the long run, you can’t manage your reputation perfectly anyway. Warren Buffett cites Gianni Agnelli, the former boss of Fiat: “When you get old, you have the reputation you deserve.” You can fool other people for a while, but not a lifetime. Second, concentrating on prestige and reputation distorts our perception of what makes us truly happy. And third, it stresses us out. It’s detrimental to the good life.

That’s why one of my golden rules for leading a good life is as follows: “Avoid situations in which you have to change other people.”

Without memory, the experience is perceived as entirely valueless. This is surprising, and it makes no sense. Surely it’s better to experience something wonderful than not—regardless of whether you remember it. After all, in the moment you’ll be having a fabulous time! And once we’re dead, you and I will forget everything anyway—because there’ll no longer be any “you” or any “I.” If death is going to erase your memories, how important is it to schlep them with you until your very final moment?

So don’t be surprised when somebody else judges you “incorrectly.” You do the same yourself. A realistic self-image can only be gleaned from someone who’s known you well for years and who’s not afraid to be honest—your partner or an old friend. Even better, keep a diary and dip back into it every now and again. You’ll be amazed at the things you used to write. Part of the good life is seeing yourself as realistically as possible—contradictions, shortcomings, dark sides and all. If you see yourself realistically, you’ve got a much better chance of becoming who you want to be.

I’m sure you recognize the sentiment: “When I’m on my deathbed, looking back on my life…” A magnificently lofty idea, but rather nonsensical in practice. For a start, almost no one is that lucid when they’re on their deathbed. The three main doors into the afterlife are heart attack, stroke and cancer. In the first two cases, you won’t have time for philosophical reflection. In most cases of cancer, you’ll be so stuffed to the gunnels with painkillers that you won’t be able to think straight. Nor do those afflicted with dementia or Alzheimer’s achieve any new insights on their deathbeds. And even if you do have the time and wherewithal in your final moments to reminisce, your memories won’t (as we saw in the previous three chapters) correspond fully to reality. Your remembering self produces systematic errors. It tells tall tales.

“If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.”

Not getting bogged down in self-pity is a golden rule of mental health. Accept the fact that life isn’t perfect—yours or anyone else’s. As the Roman philosopher Seneca said, “Things will get thrown at you and things will hit you. Life’s no soft affair.” What point is there in “being unhappy, just because once you were unhappy”? If you can do something to mitigate the current problems in your life, then do it. If you can’t, then put up with the situation. Complaining is a waste of time, and self-pity is doubly counterproductive: first, you’re doing nothing to overcome your unhappiness; and two, you’re adding to your original unhappiness the further misery of being self-destructive. Or, to quote Charlie Munger’s “iron prescription”: “Whenever you think that some situation or some person is ruining your life, it is actually you who are ruining your life… Feeling like a victim is a perfectly disastrous way to go through life.”

Plato and Aristotle both believed that people should be as temperate, courageous, just and prudent as possible.

The circle of dignity draws together your individual pledges and protects them from three forms of attack: a) better arguments; b) mortal danger; and c) deals with the Devil.

Is it worth the price? That’s the wrong question. By definition, things that are invaluable have no price. “If an individual has not discovered something that he will die for, he isn’t fit to live,” said Martin Luther King. Certainly not to live the good life.

If you don’t make it clear on the outside what you believe deep down, you gradually turn into a puppet. Other people exploit you for their own purposes, and sooner or later, you give up. You don’t fight any more. You don’t hold up to stresses. Your willpower atrophies. If you break on the outside, at some point you’ll break on the inside too.

Your circle of dignity, the protective wall that surrounds your pledges, can only be tested under fire. You might lay claim to high ideals, noble principles and distinctive preferences, but it’s not until you come to defend them that you will “cry with happiness,” to paraphrase Stockdale.

Say you’re in a meeting and somebody starts going for you, really getting vitriolic. Ask them to repeat what they’ve said word for word. You’ll soon see that, most of the time, your attacker will fold.

For most people, the circle of dignity is not a matter of life and death but a battle to maintain the upper hand. Make it as hard as possible for your assailants. Keep the reins in your hand as long as possible when it comes to the things you hold sacred. If you have to give up, then do so in a way that makes your opponent pay the highest practicable price for your capitulation. There’s tremendous power in this commitment. It’s one of the keys to a good life.

One: fetch a notebook and title it My Big Book of Worries. Set aside a fixed time to dedicate to your anxieties. In practical terms, this means reserving ten minutes a day to jot down everything that’s worrying you—no matter how justified, idiotic or vague. Once you’ve done so, the rest of the day will be relatively worry-free. Your brain knows its concerns have been recorded and not simply ignored. Do this every day, turning to a fresh page each time. You’ll realize, incidentally, that it’s always the same dozen or so worries tormenting you. At the weekend, read through the week’s notes and follow the advice of Bertrand Russell: “When you find yourself inclined to brood on anything, no matter what, the best plan always is to think about it even more than you naturally would, until at last its morbid fascination is worn off.” In practical terms, this means imagining the worst possible consequences and forcing yourself to think beyond them. You’ll discover that most concerns are overblown. The rest are genuine dangers, and those must be confronted. Two: take out insurance. Insurance policies are a marvelous invention. They’re among the most elegant worry-killers. Their true value is not the monetary pay-out when there’s a problem but the reduced anxiety beforehand. Three: focused work is the best therapy against brooding. Focused, fulfilling work is better than meditation. It’s a better distraction than anything else. If you use these three strategies, you’ll have a real chance of living a carefree life—a good life. Then perhaps even in your younger years or, at least, in middle age, you’ll be able to chuckle over Mark Twain’s late-in-life insight: “I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them have never happened.”

The Greek and Roman philosophers known as the Stoics recommended the following trick to sweep away worry: determine what you can influence and what you can’t. Address the former. Don’t let the latter prey on your mind.

Not always feeling like you need to have an opinion calms the mind and makes you more relaxed—an ingredient vital to a good life.

First: accept the existence of fate. In Boethius’s day, people liked to personify fate as Fortuna, a goddess who turned the Wheel of Fortune, in which highs and lows were endlessly rotated. Those who played along, hoping to catch the wheel as it rose, had to accept that eventually they would come down once more. So don’t be too concerned about whether you’re ascending or descending. It could all be turned on its head.

Second: everything you own, value and love is ephemeral—your health, your partner, your children, your friends, your house, your money, your homeland, your reputation, your status. Don’t set your heart on those things. Relax, be glad if fate grants them to you, but always be aware that they are fleeting, fragile and temporary. The best attitude to have is that all of them are on loan to you, and may be taken away at any time. By death, if nothing else.

Third: if you, like Boethius, have lost many things or even everything, remember that the positive has outweighed the negative in your life (or you wouldn’t be complaining) and that all sweet things are tinged with bitterness. Whining is misplaced.

Four: what can’t be taken from you are your thoughts, your mental tools, the way you interpret bad luck, loss and setbacks. You can call this space your mental fortress—a piece of freedom that can never be assailed.

Stop comparing yourself to other people and you’ll enjoy an envy-free existence. Steer well clear of all comparisons. That’s the golden rule.

So wisdom isn’t identical with the accumulation of knowledge. Wisdom is a practical ability. It’s a measure of the skill with which we navigate life. Once you’ve come to realize that virtually all difficulties are easier to avoid than to solve, the following simple definition will be self-evident: “Wisdom is prevention.”

The fact is, life is hard. Problems rain down on all sides. Fate opens pitfalls beneath your feet and throws up barriers to block your path. You can’t change that. But if you know where danger lurks, you can ward it off. You can evade all sorts of obstacles. Einstein put it this way: “A clever person solves a problem. A wise person avoids it.”

Wisdom is prevention. It’s invisible, so you can’t show it off—but preening isn’t conducive to a good life anyway. You know that already.

if you want to help reduce suffering on the planet, donate money. Just money. Not time. Money. Don’t travel to conflict zones unless you’re an emergency doctor, bomb-disposal expert or diplomat. Many people fall for the volunteer’s folly—they believe there’s a point to voluntary work. In reality, it’s a waste. Your time is more meaningfully invested in your circle of competence, because it’s there that you’ll generate the most value per day. If you’re installing water pumps in the Sahara, you’re doing work that local well-diggers could carry out for a fraction of the cost. Plus, you’re taking work away from them. Let’s say you could dig one well per day as a volunteer. If you spent that day working at your office and used the money you earned to pay local well-diggers, by the end of the day you’d have a hundred new wells. Sure, volunteering makes you feel good, but it shouldn’t be about that. And that warm Good Samaritan glow is based on a fallacy. The first-rate specialists on site (Médecins Sans Frontières, the Red Cross, UNICEF, etc.) will put your donations to more effective use than you could yourself. So work hard and put your money in the hands of professionals.

you’re not responsible for the state of the world. It sounds harsh and unsympathetic, but it’s the truth. Nobel Prize winner in physics Richard Feynman was told much the same thing by John von Neumann, the brilliant mathematician and “father of computing”: “[John] von Neumann gave me an interesting idea: that you don’t have to be responsible for the world that you’re in. So I have developed a very powerful sense of social irresponsibility as a result of von Neumann’s advice. It’s made me a very happy man ever since.” What Feynman means by “social irresponsibility” is this: don’t feel bad for concentrating on your work instead of building hospitals in Africa. There’s no reason to feel guilty that you happen to be better off than a bombing victim in Aleppo—your situations could easily be reversed. Lead an upright, productive life, and don’t be a monster. Follow that advice and you’ll already be contributing to a better world. The upshot? Find a strategy to help you cope with global atrocities. It doesn’t have to be one I’ve suggested here, but it is important to have a plan. Otherwise getting through life will be tough. You’ll be constantly torn between the things that still have to be done, you’ll feel guilty—and ultimately you’ll accomplish nothing with that burden.

Four: be aware that focus cannot be divided. It’s not like time and money. The attention you’re giving your Facebook stream on your mobile phone is attention you’re taking away from the person sitting opposite. Five: act from a position of strength, not weakness. When people bring things to your attention unasked, you’re automatically in a position of weakness. Why should an advertiser, a journalist or a Facebook friend decide where you direct your focus? That Porsche advert, article about the latest Trump tweet or video clip of hilariously adorable puppies is probably not something that’s going to make you happy or move you forwards. Even without an Instagram account, the philosopher Epictetus came to a similar conclusion two thousand years ago: ‘If a person gave your body to any stranger he met on his way, you would certainly be angry. And do you feel no shame in handing over your own mind to be confused and mystified by anyone who happens to verbally attack you?’

What does focus have to do with happiness? Everything. “Your happiness is determined by how you allocate your attention,” wrote Paul Dolan. The same life events (positive or negative) can influence your happiness strongly, weakly or not at all—depending on how much attention you give them. Essentially, you always live where your focus is directed, no matter where the atoms of your body are located. Each moment comes only once. If you deliberately focus your attention, you’ll get more out of life. Be critical, strict and careful when it comes to your intake of information—no less critical, strict and careful than you are with your food or medication.

Avoid ideologies and dogmas at all cost—especially if you’re sympathetic to them. Ideologies are guaranteed to be wrong. They narrow your worldview and prompt you to make appalling decisions.

When you meet someone showing signs of a dogmatic infection, ask them this question: “Tell me what specific facts you’d need in order to give up your worldview.” If they don’t have an answer, keep that person at arm’s length. You should ask yourself the same question, for that matter, if you suspect you’ve strayed too far into dogma territory.

imagine you’re on a TV talk show with five other guests, all of whom hold the opposite conviction from yours. Only when you can argue their views at least as eloquently as your own will you truly have earned your opinion.

think independently, don’t be too faithful to the party line, and above all give dogmas a wide berth. The quicker you understand that you don’t understand the world, the better you’ll understand the world.

In several studies, Dan Gilbert, Timothy Wilson and their research colleagues have shown that mental subtraction increases happiness significantly more markedly than simply focusing on the positives. The Stoics figured this out two thousand years ago: instead of thinking about all the things you don’t yet have, consider how much you’d miss the things you do have if you didn’t have them any longer.

Speculation is more agreeable than realization. As long as you’re still weighing up your options, the risk of failure is nil; once you take action, however, that risk is always greater than zero. This is why reflection and commentary are so popular. If you’re simply thinking something over, you’ll never bump up against reality, which means you can never fail. Act, however, and suddenly failure is back on the cards—but you’ll gain new experiences. “Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted,” as the saying goes.

the next time you’re about to make an important decision, mull it over carefully—but only to the point of maximum deliberation. You’ll be surprised how quickly you reach it. Once you’re there, flick off your torch and switch on your floodlight. It’s as useful in the workplace as it is in the home, whether you’re investing in your career or in your love life.

No matter how extraordinary your accomplishments might be, the truth is that they would have happened without you. Your personal impact on the world is minute. It doesn’t matter how brilliant you are—as a businessperson, an academic, a CEO, a general or a president; in the great scheme of things you’re insignificant, unnecessary and interchangeable. The only place where you can really make a difference is in your own life. Focus on your own surroundings. You’ll soon see that getting to grips with that is ambitious enough. Why take it upon yourself to change the world? Spare yourself the disappointment.

Not believing too much in your own self-importance is one of the most valuable strategies for a good life.

The upshot? There is no just plan for the world. Part of the good life is to radically accept that. Focus on your garden—on your own everyday life—and you’ll find enough weeds to keep you busy. The things that happen to you across the course of your life, especially the more serious blows of fate, have little to do with whether you’re a good or a bad person. So accept unhappiness and misfortune with stoicism and calm. Treat incredible success and strokes of luck exactly the same.

“There’s an infinite number of winners,” Kevin Kelly has said, “as long as you’re not trying to win somebody else’s race.”

The upshot? Try to escape the arms race dynamic. It’s difficult to recognize, because each individual step seems reasonable when considered on its own. So retreat every so often from the field of battle and observe it from above. Don’t fall victim to the madness. An arms race is a succession of Pyrrhic victories, and your best bet is to steer clear. You’ll only find the good life where people aren’t fighting over it.

As Warren Buffett says, “It’s better to be approximately right than precisely wrong.”

Constantly distinguish between “I have to have it,” “I want to have it” and “I expect it.” The first phrase represents a necessity, the second a desire (a preference, a goal) and the third an expectation.

Seeing desires as musts will only make you a grumpy, unpleasant person to be around. And no matter how intelligent you are, it will make you act like an idiot. The sooner you can erase supposed necessities from your repertoire, the better.

A life without goals is a wasted life. Yet we mustn’t be shackled to them. Be aware that not all your desires will be satisfied, because so much lies beyond your control.

The Greek philosophers had a wonderful expression for the things we want: preferred indifferents (indifferent here in the sense of insignificant). So I might have a preference (e.g., I’d prefer a Porsche to a VW Golf), but ultimately it’s insignificant to my happiness.

Bearing Sturgeon’s law in mind will improve your life. It’s an excellent mental tool because it “allows” you to pass over most of what you see, hear or read without feeling guilty. The world is full of empty words, but you don’t need to listen. That said, don’t try to cleanse the world of nonsense. You won’t succeed. The world can stay irrational longer than you can stay sane. So concentrate on being selective, on the few valuable things, and leave everything else aside.

Recognize bullshit for what it is. Oh, and one other rule, which in my experience has proved well founded: if you’re not sure whether something is bullshit, it’s bullshit.

One: self-importance requires energy. If you think overly highly of yourself, you have to operate a transmitter and a radar simultaneously. On the one hand, you’re broadcasting your self-image out into the world; on the other, you’re permanently registering how your environment responds. Save yourself the effort. Switch off your transmitter and your radar, and focus on your work. In concrete terms, this means don’t be vain, don’t name-drop, and don’t brag about your amazing successes.

the more self-important you are, the more speedily you’ll fall for the self-serving bias. You’ll start doing things not to achieve a specific goal but to make yourself look good. You often see the self-serving bias among investors. They buy stocks in glamorous hotels or sexy tech companies—not because they’re solid investments but because they want to enhance their own image. On top of this, people who think highly of themselves tend to systematically overestimate their knowledge and abilities (this is termed overconfidence), leading to grave errors in decision-making.

If you stress your own importance, you do so at the expense of other people’s, because otherwise it would devalue your relative position. Once you’re successful, if not before, other people who are equally full of themselves will shit on you. Not a good life.

As you can see, your ego is more antagonist than friend.

Stay modest. You’ll improve your life by several orders of magnitude. Self-esteem is so easy that anyone can do it; modesty, on the other hand, may be tough, but at least it’s more compatible with reality. And it calms your emotional wave pool. Self-importance has developed into a malady of civilization. We’ve got our teeth into our egos like a dog into an old shoe. Let the shoe go. It has no nutritional value, and it’ll soon taste rotten.

definitions of success are products of their time.

Once you’ve attained ataraxia—tranquility of the soul—you’ll be able to maintain your equanimity despite the slings and arrows of fate. To put it another way, to be successful is to be imperturbable, regardless of whether you’re flying high or crash landing. How can we achieve inner success? By focusing exclusively on the things we can influence and resolutely blocking out everything else. Input, not output. Our input we can control; our output we can’t, because chance keeps sticking its oar in.

“Success is peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to do your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.”

Whichever way you look at it, the truth is that people desire external gain because it nets them internal gain. The question that suggests itself is obvious: why take the long way round? Just take the direct route.

“It is remarkable how much long-term advantage people like us have gotten by trying to be consistently not stupid, instead of trying to be very intelligent.” (Munger, Charlie: Wesco Annual Report 1989.)

authors Minkyung Koo, Sara B. Algoe, Timothy D. Wilson and Daniel T. Gilbert write: “Having a wonderful spouse, watching one’s team win the World Series, or getting an article accepted in a top journal are all positive events, and reflecting on them may well bring a smile; but that smile is likely to be slighter and more fleeting with each passing day, because as wonderful as these events may be, they quickly become familiar—and they become more familiar each time one reflects on them. Indeed, research shows that thinking about an event increases the extent to which it seems familiar and explainable.”

“Charlie realizes that it is difficult to find something that is really good. So, if you say ‘No’ ninety percent of the time, you’re not missing much in the world.” (Otis Booth on Charlie Munger, In: Munger, Charlie: Poor Charlie’s Almanack, Donning, 2008, p. 99).

“You’ll do better if you have passion for something in which you have aptitude. If Warren had gone into ballet, no one would have heard of him.”

They were all things that were simply a matter of deciding whether you were going to be that kind of person or not… Always hang around people better than you and you’ll float up a little bit. Hang around with the other kind and you start sliding down the pole.” (Warren Buffett quoted in: Lowe, Janet: Warren Buffett Speaks: Wit and Wisdom from the World’s Greatest Investor, John Wiley & Sons, 2007, p. 36).

“If you want to guarantee yourself a life of misery, marry somebody with the idea of changing them.”

Buffett: “We don’t try to change people. It doesn’t work well… We accept people the way they are.”

If social change is your mission, you’ll end up tangling with thousands of people and institutions who are doing everything they can to uphold the status quo. Ideally, you want to keep your mission narrowly focused. You can’t rebel against all aspects of the dominant order. Society is stronger than you are. You can only achieve personal victories in clearly defined moral niches.

“‘Don’t worry, be happy’ bromides are of no use; notice that people who are told to ‘relax’ rarely do.”

Mark Twain: “I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them have never happened.”

Howard Marks: “I tell my father’s story of the gambler who lost regularly. One day he heard about a race with only one horse in it, so he bet the rent money. Halfway around the track, the horse jumped over the fence and ran away. Invariably things can get worse than people expect. Maybe ‘worst-case’ means ‘the worst we’ve seen in the past.’ But that doesn’t mean things can’t be worse in the future.”

“Then at dinner, Bill Gates Sr. posed the question to the table: What factor did people feel was the most important in getting to where they’d gotten in life? And I said, ‘Focus.’ And Bill said the same thing. It is unclear how many people at the table understood ‘focus’ as Buffett lived that word. This kind of innate focus couldn’t be emulated. It meant the intensity that is the price of excellence. It meant the discipline and passionate perfectionism that made Thomas Edison the quintessential American inventor, Walt Disney the king of family entertainment, and James Brown the Godfather of Soul. It meant single-minded obsession with an ideal.”

“Our happiness is sometimes not very salient, and we need to do what we can to make it more so. Imagine playing a piano and not being able to hear what it sounds like. Many activities in life are like playing a piano that you do not hear…” (Dolan, Paul: Happiness by Design, Penguin, 2015, E-Book Location 1781.)

Should you find yourself in a chronically-leaking boat, energy devoted to changing vessels is likely to be more productive than energy devoted to patching leaks.” (Greenwald, Bruce C. N.; Kahn, Judd; Sonkin, Paul D.; van Biema,

As you age, change your modus operandi: become highly selective. There’s a lovely anecdote from Marshall Weinberg about going to lunch with Warren Buffett that’s worth repeating here. “He had an exceptional ham-and-cheese sandwich. A few days later, we were going out again. He said, ‘Let’s go back to that restaurant.’ I said, ‘But we were just there.’ He said, ‘Precisely. Why take a risk with another place? We know exactly what we’re going to get.’ That is what Warren looks for in stocks, too. He only invests in companies where the odds are great that they will not disappoint.”

Even the notorious U curve of life satisfaction is connected to false expectations. Young people are happy because they believe things can only ever improve—higher income, more power, greater opportunity. In middle age, between forty and fifty-five, they reach a low point. They’re forced to accept that the high-flying aspirations of their youth cannot be realized. On top of that they have children, a career, income pressures—all unexpected dampers on happiness. In old age, people are reasonably happy once more, because they’ve exceeded those unrealistically low expectations.

John Wooden: “Success is peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to do your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.”

from Epictetus, the Stoic: “A life that flows gently and easily.”

“Why, my dear friend, do you do it all? If I had all your millions, I’d spend my time doing nothing but reading, thinking and writing.” It wasn’t until I was on the way home that I realized, oddly startled, that that’s exactly what I do. So that would be a definition of the good life: somebody hands you a few million, and you don’t change anything at all.

#the art of the good life #Rolf dobelli #non-fiction #quotes #books

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solitaire-dreams · 6 years

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What’s Your Type? : Pokespe Fire/Water/Grass Dexholder Analysis

DISCLAIMER: Honestly, I've only read RGB, RS, DP, BW, and SM arcs in full; and parts of the Yellow and B2W2 arc. So, any information outside of these arcs is coming from Bulbapedia and is liable to be incorrect.

When it comes to the world of Pokespe, rather than the anime where we follow the never aging Ash Ketchum, we now total about 21 dexholders (our protagonists). Each dexholder is fairly unique from one another, yet one thing always tends to be in common between them. The same thing that's always common when we pick up our consoles to start a new Pokemon journey. Picking our starters.

In the world of Pokespe, the standard starters aren't guaranteed to be the first Pokemon they will receive—quite the opposite actually—yet they will always gain one of the traditional starters at some point of their evolutionary line on their journey. (The only two exceptions are Yellow who was created for the Yellow games where Pikachu was the starter, and Whi-two or Whitley because they ran out of Unovan starters). This often has us classify the dexholders into grass, fire, and water varieties. Though this categorization goes deeper than a Pokemon in their party, but plays a large role in their characterization.

Each of the dexholders in each category share a trait that connects all of them, and will provide useful for other predictions (skip to the end if you just want to know what the other prediction is). This post is focused on breaking them down one by one.

Note: Since I was tempted enough to reblog an incorrect pokespe quote where green was the name given to the male character, for the rest of this blog, Green is the male character and Blue is the female. Got it? Good.

First off, we'll start off with the fire type dexholders. Most of you might notice some obvious similarities:

Yet, there is also one very obvious exception:

Green here doesn't tend to shout, especially as much as the other fire type dexholders. So, then what is the factor connecting them? All of them still have a very fiery spirit, and more accurately, is their strong determination towards achieving whatever goal they have. They will pursue it no matter whatever or whoever lies in their way; often leading to causing chaos or bad relationships with other people in their wake.

Green is extremely focused on becoming a strong trainer. Upon his first appearance, he is battling Mew with Charmander to train it and shows no remorse when Red tries to battle it and his Pokemon faints; rather looking down on him for not “noticing anything” during the fight. This determination continues throughout the first arc, as further demonstrated when he tries to force his way into Saffron City after Team Rocket attacks Pallet Town and takes his grandfather.

Gold has the notable trait of having a one-track mind, where he focuses on something so much he will pursue that relentlessly, and ignoring anything else that doesn't pertain to that. Though, this trait manifests itself most when Gold pursues “pretty girls” such as the Kimono Girls, gym leader Jasmine, or even Crystal upon first discovering her.

Though it still can translate in the pursuit of Gold's goals, where he initially receives a Pokedex because he wanted to use it in battle, and urgently attempts to gain a unique specialty during the GSC arc.

Sapphire's dexholder title is specifically “The Conquer” in reference to her earning 8 gym badges in 80 days. She unrelentingly goes around the region to defeat the gym leaders—causing her to start off on the wrong foot with Ruby. And she turns it into a bet to reach their respective goals in 80 days all because it stemmed from a promise she made with her childhood friend to beat the record of Red when it came to the Pokemon League.

Pearl's title is the Determiner, one he received after bonding with Azelf—the lake guardian of Willpower. He managed to bond with Azelf because he completes whatever he starts; as clarified by Diamond in the arc. Determiner, willpower, completes whatever started...yeah, this screams dedication to a goal. Especially when you consider the focus Pearl gives to Dia's and his comedy routine.

For Black though, no matter how well I could paraphrase it, I will just quote this article (bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Black_(Adventures)): “Black is a young man who aspires to be the Champion of the Unova Pokémon League. He has been dreaming of this since childhood, nine years to be exact. However, these dreams fill his head to the point where he cannot think about anything else and any attempts to cause him to pass out from mental exhaustion...Due to his dreams causing him to forget about other things, Black has the tendency to do things without considering the consequences of his actions and their effects on other people.”

I think the above proves the point well enough.

Also, I would like to briefly mention Y. While Y isn't a fire type dexholder (she's a water type), since there is no fire type dexholder in Kalos (Malva doesn't really count), she is a kind of water/fire dual type with her personality. Y shouts more than most of the other water dexholders and exhibits a more solid determination to pursue her goal of becoming a Sky Trainer, even when this runs into direct opposition with her mother's ideas for her.

Lastly, we wrap up the fire dexholder with our latest protagonist, Sun. Sun has the goal of collecting 100 million yen. Acheiving this goal has been Sun's whole time in Alola in the making. He relentlessly pursues money, even prioritizing reaching his personal goal than helping the Alola region against the Ultra Beast invasion, leading him to get sucked into Ultra Space with Solgaleo.

Next up is the water type dexholders, which personally I found the revelation most interesting. It would be difficult to derive a personality solely from the type this time. Unlike fire which is associated with offensive battling, or grass which tends to be connected to defensive, water is viewed as the balance between the two. But, this doesn't really provide any clues into what is the common thread between all these dexholders. My findings, however, were that they all tend to be secretive.

Miss Con Artist (Blue), our first water type dexholder, is literally a con artist. Her whole livelihood is based of lying and keeping the truth about her real intentions to trick people into doing whatever she wants. Plus, she has her own secrets that only come to light much later into her appearance in the first arc and beyond. Her pathological fear of birds is only hinted at during the Team Rocket battle and confirmed during the Pokemon League when battle “Professor O”. Even more shocking was her childhood under the Masked Man, who trained her because of the promise she showed as a trainer.

This transitions nicely to our other dexholder who was raised under the Masked Man, Silver. And he so happens to be a water type dexholder as well. While Silver does not purposely keeping his life before the Masked Man close to his chest, it is revealed that Silver was the son of Giovanni, an insanely big secret that heavily impacted his character.

Ruby, in order to pursue his love of contests and oppose the beliefs of his father, refuses to battle at the beginning of the RS arc. This in turn hides his amazing battling skills (plus the fact he has a FREAKING CELEBI). Additionally, when it comes to the climax of the arc, he hides from Sapphire the plan he had to team up with Courtney to control Groudon and Kyogre. While still intended for her safety, it is still another massive lie and withholding of the truth on his part.

Platinum may not be thought of as being secretive, but the speech she makes after learning Dia and Pearl weren't her bodyguards begs to differ. Most of the lies she reveals in that speech were white lights told to make her not seem inferior and were obvious to the reader, but it still goes to show that she lied a fair amount. Her wealth and connection to the Berlitz family were also discovered rather than told by Platinum. And most obviously, she hid her real name of Platinum until this time! This whole journey, her companions didn't know what her true first name was!

Lack-two or Blake is another dexholder who has lying built into his occupation. Blake is with the International Police and working undercover during the B2W2 arc (Please give us some form of closure! #freeblack2k19). He literally has to keep his true intentions of hunting down the remnants of Team Plasma from his fellow classmates. Additionally, his true personality isn't shown to others either; he puts on a womanizing and flirtatious front when he truly an emotionless officer.

Y is honestly the least secretive out of the water dexholders, but that can also be attributed to her odd Volcanion (a fire-and-water type) fusion. It may not be obvious, or not in a way you expect, but Y does hide something—her feelings. Dealing with the human depression that is X and three of her other friends while trying to all live on their own and dealing with fallout from her mother on top of one of the most cruel evil teams yet? You think she would break down, or someone would help her; but none of the characters we follow demonstrate this concern! theviolenttomboy made a short post that summarizes all the sh*t Y goes through (theviolenttomboy.tumblr.com/post/146359425406/figured-out-why-i-cant-ship-y-with-absolutely), and how she has to deal with it all on her own. In order to keep the group alive, she has to hide her emotional distress. A problem not even resolved by the end of the arc.

Finally, we arrive at the grass type dexholders. Honestly this was the most tricky for me to pin down. Mostly because we have dexholders like Dia and X who have personalities that couldn't seem more different. So, I had to take a look back, and that's when I realized something. Both of the previous characterizations centred around how they achieve their goals. Fire type dexholders barrel through whatever obstacles are in their way and water type dexholders hide information as they pursue their goals. This gave me the clue of what to analyze for the grass type dexholders and this is my conclusion:

The way grass dexholders approach their goals is the most “healthy”. They are able to self-intrinsically motivate themselves when life discourages their goals and try to achieve them in a way that doesn't tend to hurt others as much as the other two dexholder categories (most of the time).

Honestly, this probably reminds you of a generic shonen protagonist, so it is fitting that the dexholder who started this characterization was the most shonen like character of all: Red. Red is able to convince himself to keep working towards his goal of becoming the strongest trainer, despite the obstacles he faces in the form of Team Rocket or people like his rival discouraging him from developing into a stronger trainer. The way he aims to be the strongest also doesn't harm many people, if people are affected, it tends to be accidental.

Crystal manages to stay firm in her goal of catching all the Pokemon even if the other Johto dexholders just see her as a girl at first. She can motivate herself to keep working towards it, and with the caring and give-back nature of Crystal, she is certainly not harming anyone on her path to reaching her goal. Minus a few face kicks to Gold.

Emerald certainly faced a lot of adversity that pushed him down. Becoming an orphan at a young age and made fun of for his small height, initially actually causing him to go against the foundation of grass dexholders being able to motivates themselves by resulting in a dislike of Pokemon and his stature. However, he develops this grass mindset as the Emerald arc progresses, finding what he enjoys, what makes him unique, and cultivating the confidence needed to be himself—even if life is still against him. Plus, while I can't speak for much of his actions in the Emerald arc (because I haven't red FRLG yet, and I know the events are directly connected), his title of the Calmer which stems from his ability to help Pokemon feel relaxed means he is at least not harming Pokemon much during his adventure.

One of the biggest character moments for Diamond is him managing to self-intrinsically motivate himself to pursue a goal despite opposition. In this case, the goal being to stop Team Galactic and his opposition being his best friend Pearl. Regardless, he succeeds in standing up to him and working towards thwarting Team Galactic, with the worst harm caused probably being Pearl's shock at Dia standing up for himself.

White seems to exhibit a peaceful way of pursuing her goal surrounding her talent agency for Pokemon. When her goal switches after Gigi leaves her for a bit, White's new focus on getting stronger at battling is still approached in much the same way. One where she convinces herself to keep working towards improvement and does not negatively affect people along the way.

Then we have the enigma of X. X doesn't seem to follow things of “motivation” or not inadvertently bringing down others with him, but that's only when his goal isn't clear. When we start with X in the XY arc, his goal is to stay in his room; locked away from the outside world. In this context, he meets all the criteria: he ends up convincing himself to work towards his goal of staying a shut-in, despite all the pleas to change this from his friends; and most of his protest to stay inside is silent and doesn't directly or physically harm his friends.

Lastly, our final dexholder is Moon, who also conforms to this characterization fairly well. Moon is able to pursue whatever she considers a priority, unaffected by outside influences. Whether it be praise from her work early on in the SM arc, or not listening to reason before chasing after Sun in the wormholes when he is taken away; leaving Alola to face the Ultra Beasts alone.

tl; dr : Each dexholder approaches their goals differently based on the type of their starter. Fire dexholders have strong enough determination to barrel through all the obstacles to their goal, knocking down everything and everyone in their way. Water dexholders are secretive and hide important information as they work towards their goal. Grass dexholders have the “healthiest” way of reaching their goals, managing to motivate themselves to keep working towards it when life tells them otherwise.

This information may be touched on again in other posts I'm planning: a follow-up talking about the “Bronze-age” progression of dexholder characterization, one about predicting what the Gen 8 protagonists of Pokespe will be like, and another discussing trio characterization.

~Thanks for reading and I'll be back soon!

#pokemon #pokespe #original #analysis

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danganronpaimagineslol-blog · 6 years

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V3 boys Reaction | being forced to jump out of a plane without a parachute

A/N: I ended up posting this way later than intended. Just finished it at 2 AM. Who cares about school and responsibilities Thank you for the submission anon! I enjoyed writing this. I wasn’t sure if you wanted it to be a sacrificial situation or not. So, I wrote some of them where they sacrifice themselves and others where they jump together. I think for my next written reaction I’ll keep it just a little more simple because I tend to confuse myself with time, some stuff is written in past tense and some in present. I also apologize in advance if my punctuation isn’t that well. I am not native English.

V3 boys x Reader

Genre: angst

Submit a request here [X]

Gonta Gokuhara

"Y/N, Gonta know what to do," he said looking into the ground with determination. I looked at him dumbfoundedly and placed my hand carefully on his shoulder. I knew we had not much time left before the plane was going to blow up, but I couldn’t help worrying about what could be on his mind. It wasn’t often Gonta would react in such a serious tone.

“What do you mean?” I replied attempting to make him look at me so I could read him better. He let out a soft sigh and stood up from his seat. His gigantic figure pulled me into a soft, but protective hug. I quickly realized what he meant.

“Gonta you can’t!” I shouted, tears starting to form in my eyes. He quickly pulled away and our eyes met. He had an expression I’ve never seen Gonta with before.

“Gonta has no choice. Gonta must save Y/N” He gently caressed my face and wiped some of my tears away.

“You can’t leave me. Let’s just do it together okay?” I suggested with hopeful eyes. Gonta smiled gently, keeping his act together.

“Gonta thinks this is right decision. Take care for Gonta, okay?” he said leaving a few voice cracks behind. At this point, tears were rushing down my face and every bit of me was shaking in fear. I looked at Gonta only to see his calming smile. Even in a situation like this, he stayed calm for me. I closed my eyes wishing to never imagine this moment gone. Until it was.

Kiibo

“What are we going to do?” Kiibo spoke tensely not being able to quit fidgeting with his hands. He was pacing back on forth not being able to comprehend the situation.

“Kiibo calm down and take a deep breath. We’ll figure this out” I declared looking at him with uncertainty. Kiibo sat down next to me, continuing to fidget restlessly. My mind racing faster than I could keep up I was trying to think of a solution.

“Leave it to me” Kiibo yelled suddenly. I snapped to attention and saw Kiibo with clenched fists and a resolute expression. He stood up searching every inch of the plane. He returned to me with disappointed eyes. His expression quickly changed back to what it was before he started searching.

“It’s for the better if I do this,” he said quietly. I look at him with sincere worry and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Kiibo let me. You are much more useful than I am” I nodded with my feelings finally resolved. I knew what I had to do, and he couldn’t stop me. Before I could do anything Kiibo quickly grabbed the seat belt and tucked me in.

“Kiibo what are you doing, stop it” I snapped immediately trying to push him off, so I could get out. He had tightened the belt so much I couldn’t even get it open. I started to panic and shake violently.

“Y/N let me do this. This is my purpose” Kiibo yelled with a slight hint of sorrow in his voice. This can’t be real. He wouldn’t do this. That was the last thing Kiibo said before leaving me stuck in the seat as he acted out his “purpose”.

Kaito Momota

The second we knew the situation we were in Kaito seemed to freeze. He looked terrified and was trying to grasp the situation. I shook him desperately attempting to snap him out of fear.

“Kaito please” I whimpered, tears running down my cheeks in fear. Kaito’s expression changed and his face quickly returned to color.

“Y/N listen to me. No matter what happens I want you to never forget how important it is for you to be strong. You are one of the strongest people I know so this will be an easy task for you. You must live on and never give up to this evil world. I know you can do that” His speech was brave and encouraging, but left a hole in my heart. Kaito’s cheeks were stained with tears from his words. I think he was trying to convince both of us.

“Kaito what are you saying?” I spoke in a quiet voice already knowing the answer that would follow my question. Kaito closed his eyes followed by a faint smile. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, before instantly turning around.

“Don’t ever forget me, alright?” he chuckled lightly as he started to walk away toward the exit. Everything in me wanted to run after him and stop him before it was too late, but his powerful words had left an incredible impact and I knew what the best outcome would be. I had to make Kaito proud.

Kokichi Ouma

“I knew something felt off” he mumbled to himself, scratching the back of his head with a startled expression. He started to pace back and forth deep in thought. I sat down trying to grasp the situation and calm myself down.

“Maybe they are bluffing?” he suggested, but then shook his head and continued pacing. The situation was getting more direr, as more time was wasted.

“Kokichi what are we gonna do?” I spat out voice filled with panic and fright. Kokichi snapped looking at me with worry.

“Jeez, why do you have to be so loud. I don’t like that” he mumbled crossing his arms. Kokichi’s childlike behavior never ceased to show. Even in a situation like this, he couldn’t take it seriously. As much as I was terrified of what was going to happen. I knew what I wanted to do.

“Together?” I murmured unsure of his reaction. Kokichi probably doesn’t want anything bad happening to me, but I refuse to leave his side. He suddenly smiled, placing his arms behind his neck in his typical stance.

“Nah why don’t you take care of it” he chuckled leaving me in shock. He must be joking right? That little turd is probably lying again. I was just about to yell at him once again, but he cut me off.

“Truly I wish no harm to you, but I also can’t leave you. How about we never leave each other’s side?” he suggested this time. I studied his entire expression and figure to predict his lie, but he seemed genuine about his statement. Kokichi really felt that way? I took his hand with a determined expression. Normally Kokichi would never feel comfortable with this, but he followed me by my side, as we walked into our faith together. We really did never leave each other’s side.

Korekiyo Shinguji

Kiyo showed no sign of emotion whatsoever. The realization of the situation was hitting the both of us, but yet he managed to stay calm and collected. His signature mask was hiding any fear he might be showing, therefore, I couldn’t tell how he felt. The silence was getting louder, by the second. One of us had to think of something to do.

“Kiyo what’s going to happen to us” I managed to say in between long uncontrollable breaths. Without saying anything Kiyo left me alone only to return not long after.

“So the information given wasn’t false. There truly is no way for me to save you, Y/N” Kiyo declared in his ever so calm voice. I will never be able to understand his willpower and composure.

“What option do we have?” my voice was shaky and unstable. After a few seconds, a very deep sigh escaped Kiyo’s lips. I could sense the worry in his eyes as they were darting all over the place trying to come up with a solution.

“Y/N I am afraid we don’t have many options. I always want to shield and protect you from any harm that may be caused, but I believe I have to act selfishly as it is my last option. I cannot leave your side nor do I wish to do so” Kiyo’s words were clear and his statement was as well. I didn’t want to leave his side either, therefore, we walked into our destiny hand in hand with no regrets.

Rantaro Amami

“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh” he mumbled quietly and sat down in one of the passenger seats. I sat down next to him in utter silence. I could slowly feel the panic starting to build up, but I had to keep it contained. I had to stay strong. No, how the hell was I supposed to stay sane? The situation was life or death. I got out of my seat abruptly causing Rantaro to shift his eyes to me. Slowly my feet took me to the opening of the plane. I couldn’t help, but stare out the window in hopes of finding some strength. I suddenly felt a pair of hands on my shoulders.

“Are you afraid?” he asked in a soft voice, pulling me closer. I shook my head although a few tears were making their way down my cheeks. I had to show my courage to him.

“You know I’m always gonna protect you right?” he stated, also looking out of the window. I turned around to wrap my arms around him. Perhaps this was gonna be the last time I’d be embraced with Rantaro’s scent.

“I know. And that’s why we’re going to do this together” I replied knowing I had finally found the courage I was searching for this entire time. Rantaro had no choice, but to accept my decision. I refuse to accept anything else.

“You know you don’t-” My eyes made contact with his, as I cut him off.

“We are doing this together. I am not taking no for an answer. I’m not scared anymore Rantaro” I stated with determination. Rantaro’s expression shifted from worry to perception. I nodded one last time reassuring him that this is what I wanted.

Ryoma Hoshi

In a situation like this, I was truly too shocked to read Ryoma’s feelings. It looked like he was trying to assimilate the situation. Knowing his view on life I knew I had to think fast. Before I could say anything, he did.

“Don’t make any drastic decisions Y/N. I truly don’t mind taking care of this” he replied crossing his arms as if his opinion or plan couldn’t be changed. I was about to stand up and complain my heart out to him, but Ryoma’s reaction seemed to make me freeze. I had never seen Ryoma with such sorrow in his eyes. I know he isn’t particularly fond of his life and doesn’t have a lot of willpower, but I can’t let him do this.

“Ryoma are you even listening to yourself? I can’t accept this. Let me do it” I declared not backing down from my words. As I expected Ryoma seemed to quickly build up a lot of anger. He looked like he was about to throw a tantrum at me.

“Stop trying to fight for something as worthless as me. If you are doing this for my sake, then let me do this” he yelled, causing me to back away a little. Was he right? Should I let him go for him to be happy? I closed my eyes in defeat and sat down in the passenger seat.

“Thank you,” he said in a soft voice before the sound of footsteps started to get more and more faded.

Shuichi Saihara

Shuichi’s breath was quickening as he was trying to find some self-control. The second we found out the situation we were stuck in, Shuichi had started to panic and hadn’t been able to calm down since then.

“Shuichi look at me. Calm down please” I spoke up in a loud voice to grab his attention. Shuichi finally looked at me, but his face was filled with dread and worry. Without thinking, I pulled him into a warm embrace. I know I was stepping over some boundaries, but I had to get him to focus.

“T-Thank you” he murmured. I pulled away only to see him feeling calmer. I smiled softly and pulled away from him again. It didn’t take long before his mood shifted back into worry. I sighed placing my hand on top of Shuichi’s hand.

“I need you to focus for my sake. For our sake” I declared showing him that, I too was worried. Shuichi nodded trying to comprehend my words. He seemed lost and too shocked to figure out what to do.

“It’s not too late. I can protect you Y/N” he suddenly blurted out, getting up from his seat and making his way towards the exit. I quickly ran after him pulling him back.

“Shuichi you can’t..” I whispered softly, tears forming in my eyes. Shuichi, for the first time, seemed truly sad more than scared. Slowly I took his hands and pulled him close again.

“We can do this together. You are strong enough” I whispered in his ear and quickly pulled away, continuing my walk to the exit. Not long after could I feel the warmth from Shuichi’s hand in mine.

~ Mod Ibuki

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa reactions #danganronpa requests #danganronpa blog #dangan ronpa #drv3 #drv3 killing harmony #mod ibuki

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anne-aerwyna · 6 years

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Anne ~ Chapter 13

Anne tried her hardest not to look embarrassed while walking down the pier from the Guild Hall. Unfortunately, looking embarrassed in public was one of the things Anne did best. She felt so self-conscious holding the wooden Sword and Shield that they might as well have been branded with the word 'SHAME'. She kept her head lowered and hurried down to the beach. Now that she wasn’t being tugged along by Dawn, she could get a good look at the outside of the Maerinia Guild Hall. The colored banners still fluttered in the perpetual sea breeze, an inspirational sight that Anne, for the moment, did not fully understand. She was captivated, so captivated that she never noticed the lightly armored man strolling towards her across the sand.

“Hey!” he called out to her when he got close, noticing that she was spaced out. Startled, she turned around too quickly and found herself falling backwards into the sand. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, but strong arms caught her by the wrists and held her up. She carefully opened her eyes and for a moment she was eight years old again; a stranger outfitted with a Sword and Shield had caught her for the second time in her life. “Hey, miss, watch your step! If you want to be a hunter you always have to be prepared! That’s lesson one for you: stay focused.” His knowing smile seemed familiar somehow. It suddenly dawned on her that this young man was probably to be her teacher, and she snapped to attention. “The Guildmaster told me that some new blood would be waiting for me here at the beach. My name is Henry Catcher Jr., and I’ll be your trainer for the afternoon. Now,” he said, sizing her up, “you look more than fit enough to swing a weapon, so you shouldn’t be falling down like that just because you’re surprised. What’s your name?”

Anne attempted to introduce herself. “M-my name is An-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Why can’t you get a sentence out without stuttering? There something wrong?” Henry interrupted, frowning.

“I’m n-not very good at talking to n-new p-”

“Well, from now on, I don’t want to hear it. Hunters have larger things to worry about besides talking to someone new. It might sound harsh, but I won’t listen to anything you say unless it comes out clearly, alright? If you have trouble, try taking deep breaths and focusing on what matters. I only have this afternoon to train you, so I’m going to make it tough and thorough. Understood?” Anne nodded.

“Good,” he continued, “now introduce yourself again. Properly this time.”

“My name is Anne Aerwyna.” She didn’t stutter, but the words came out a little slowly. Henry didn’t seem to mind. She took a deep breath and carried on. “I come from a small village in the woods, and my dream is to be a hunter. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Anne! Alright, we’ll get started with the basics then, and move our way up into more advanced techniques. If you work hard we can be done before it gets too dark. Ready? Let’s begin!”

They started with simple sword manoeuvres, repeating the stances and swings over and over until she had them down. Then came shield bashes, and after those came what Henry called ‘standard Sword and Shield combos’. Anne called it ‘slashing and bashing’ because those combos involved both swinging the sword and slamming with the shield. She poured all of her mental energy into learning each technique, from the basic guard stance to the complicated roundslash finisher. Once or twice she almost chopped off her long white braid, but as the afternoon wore on she learned to control where her sword was in a slash, from startup to follow through. They trained hard until the sun had fallen halfway into the ocean, taking breaks intermittently to quench their thirsts. The practice had more benefits than just learning the combos; Henry’s strict teaching style in conjunction with his firsthand experience as a hunter forced Anne to be more perceptive and made her feel a little more confident. Henry really did not respond anytime that Anne stuttered, which forced her to think about her words and to control her feelings. By the time Henry called an end to the practice, Anne was feeling strengthened, both bodily and mentally. Even so, she was still tired and sore.

“I feel like I got run over by a Rhenoplos...” she groaned, sitting heavily in the sand. “Does every hunter go through training like that?”

“All the ones that want to live, yes.” Henry responded, looking out over the sea. “I cannot stress how important it is to keep your mind and body balanced. It’s a dangerous world out there, and no amount of training will guarantee your survival. Even expert hunters can go out and not come back. They have ample training and years of experience, and yet he... they still die. That’s why I teach now. To make people as prepared as they can be.”

“I’m going to go find Dawn,” she yawned, “and then I’m going to go home. Thank you for your help, Mr. Catcher.” She slowly got up and brushed the sand off of her shorts.

“Call me Henry. My dad was Mr. Catcher.”

“Alright. Thank you, Henry. I’ll see you later!” Anne called out to him as she walked off the beach and to the pier. This time, as she walked up the pier, she looked straight ahead. It took more willpower than she thought she had, but she didn’t look down once. In doing so, she noticed something amazing. Nobody was staring at her. Nobody cared that she was holding a practice Sword and Shield. She always imagined being judged by people she didn’t know, scared of what they thought about her choices. Maybe she didn’t have to worry about them after all.

Darkness had fallen, but the light from inside the enormous boat-shaped building at the end of the pier was warm and inviting. Anne cautiously stepped inside, on the lookout for Max and Aac. She did not want to run into them again; their first meeting was far too embarrassing. Luckily they didn’t seem to be around. Anne surveyed the tables inside the spacious hall, searching for Dawn. Eventually Anne found her, but not at all where she expected - Dawn was behind Abigail the Guild Gal’s counter dressed in the Guild Hall’s signature uniform, complete with the white hibiscus nestled in her purple hair. Her head was resting in one of her hands, green eyes half closed. She was unresponsive until Anne came up to the counter and waved her hand in Dawn’s face. She shot straight up and quickly recited her line:

“Welcome to the Maerinia Guild Hall, do you have something we can attend to?” Then she saw who she was talking to, and loosened up. “Oh, hey,” she coolly greeted Anne, “its the hunter. How was practice?”

“It was great...” Anne replied, jealous of Dawn’s casual conversation skills. “I learned a lot during such a short amount of time. It makes me wonder how much I could have learned at school if all my teachers were like that! Anyway, how was your day Ms. Aurora Tymeley? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you come from a family of hunters who know the Guildmaster!”

“Does it change anything?”

“Well... no, it doesn’t, but-”

“Then it doesn’t matter, wouldn’t you agree? It’s nothing special, just a prior connection. Is everything better now?”

“I guess so,” Anne pouted, “but you shouldn’t keep any important information like that from me if we’re going to live together!”

“It’s not important information.” Dawn began putting away the assorted papers strewn around her counter. “My day was boring but beneficial, by the way. I learned how to deal with zenny while working with quest application fees and I developed a passable fake smile after dealing with disagreeable people at the counter. More people are angry about failing a quest and losing their quest application fees than you’d think. I believe some of them deserve to lose the money though - what other outcome could you possibly expect when you fight a fire monster in a suit made of Neopterons? Honestly, people astound me.” Dawn gave Anne a small smile, and Anne felt any bad emotions she had fade away. “Why don’t we go home?” Dawn continued, “I’m unbelievably tired and we have to wake up quite early tomorrow to start working.”

“Yeah, I’m ready to sleep too,” Anne groaned as she stretched her back, “I got a killer workout.”

“Abigail, Anne’s back! Can we head out now?” Dawn called into the office behind her.

“Yeah, sure! Let me just give you guys your official guild stuff first!” came the muffled reply, followed by the sound of papers rustling and metal clanking. Abigail emerged from the office holding some documents and two badges with the crest of Maerinia on it. “Congratulations, you’re officially Maerinia Guild Hall members now! These are your official papers, I filled them in while you were working. You won’t need these very often unless your authenticity is questioned; I would recommend keeping them in a safe place and hoping that time never comes. This badge needs to be prominently displayed when you are accepting quests from anywhere. That way, when you get a reward, it will always come back here for you to pick up. Your first day starts tomorrow, but you haven’t been assigned any jobs yet. You can pick your own in the morning! That should be all for tonight! See you bright and early!” With that, she handed over the items and returned to the office.

“Alright,” Dawn said as she turned to leave, “that’s a satisfying conclusion. Time to go home.” Anne didn’t reply; she was staring at the badge, eyes moistening a bit as she admired it.

“I did it, mom...” she whispered. “I’m a hunter!”

Anne and Dawn left the Guild Hall in high spirits and made their way home by way of beach. They were exhausted by the time they reached Oceanview Cottage and after quick baths they went to bed, excited and anxious about what tomorrow would hold.

#AnneChapter13 #AnneAerwyna

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