One part of ca: the winter solider that always confused me is the Zola computer brain;
It was brought back to my mind recently on a re-watch of the first avenger.
In the first avenger, Zola was presented as a very nervous man, that although being a very talented scientist, not quite fully dedicated to Schmidt as the rest of Hydra. Although this may just be my viewpoint of it, Zola always appeared troubled by Schmidt. When the Nazi inspectors come to pass on Hitler's displeasure at Hydra not producing any weapons, Schmidt sees no problem slaughtering them all in a blink of an eye. Zola, however, looks troubled by it and is hesitant for a moment where every other solider salutes and hails Hydra. To me, he gives the impression of a man who joined Hydra due to the large leaps in science Schmidt promised and delivered, who slowly grows more weary as Schmidts cruelty and craze for power grows.
But in the winter solider, Zolas demeanor changes completely. When Steve and Natasha stumble across his uploaded consciousness, he seems almost as crazed as Schmidt, ranting about his progress with implanting Hydra into Shield and the success of the Winter solider program. After the way he is shown in the first avenger, it confused me when watching the movie due to his apparent sudden change of heart. The man who seems deeply troubled by the cruelty of Schmidt and how he used the weapons the he created is suddenly monologuing about the success of the winter solider, a project developed singularly as a merciless assassin; not even touching on the 70 years of continued torture and brainwashing required to keep it up and running.
I don't know if this is me simply not understanding this character, or if Zola was acting like this to distract Nat and Steve long enough for the missile to hit, or if it was simply an oversight by the writers; I just thought it was really interesting.
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Jacket update :)
Been sitting on this a bit but!!! I did it! Transgender House of Wolves backpiece........
Some notes!
> Used an extra trans flag I got at a previous Pride!
> The pink fabric/gums are actually that band at the waist of an old hoodie, and unintentionally had a really neat lettuce-ruffle effect when I cut it. I feel like it makes it look fleshy.
> Fangs were hand sewn! In fact almost all of this was, just the top and bottom of the flag being sewn by machine (and later covered up by various fabric layers anyway). Also the chipped tooth was unintended (underestimated how much material I had there) but I think it's charming :)
> Belt was from a yard sard that I've had since middle school HAHA, I thought it would be aesthetically more pleasing if I separated the wings from the wolf mouth? I was careful to save some for later as well, if I want to implement it somewhere else.
> Also. Only stitched the ends of the belt to the jacket. The rest is nuts and bolts LMFAOO could NOT be bothered (but ties in nicely with the wings and other places I've used bolts! Metal detectors hate me.)
> Text was largely free handed with marker! I did have stencils (?) I drew out on paper, but not like cut outs -- the flag material was thin enough to trace and free hand the rest. Also, the text is meant to mimic the fonts seen in the lyric pamphlet! Because it was freehand, I did make a mistake on the N and covered it up with embroidery.
^ Progress pic that shows off concepts and references!
ALSO.
Added a bolt and a hair elastic as a clasp for the Extra Pockets on the sides!!! This actually makes them functional now!!! I can put pliers and scissors and Stabbing Tool (a dart I cut the aerodynamic bits off of) what have you in them AND nothing falls out when I yank it off and toss it aside YIPPEEEEEE!!! 🎉🎉🎉
The funniest part of all of this is that, this humble windbreaker, is now about as hefty and weighty as a leather jacket after all the mods and shit I've stored in the pockets. All five of them (there is a secret pocket as well 👀)
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Regulus Black eats angst for breakfast and oh, how i find symphony in his sadness.
TW/CW: irl parental abuse. irl struggle with mental illness. *life's tough guys*
It's because all my branches were cut so fucking short. All my leaves pruned before they ever got to grow and feel the wind. My soil poured over with boiling water so as to sanitize. Dear sister, they look at the life and fire inside of you and now know exactly what they must kill.
I'm sorry but how could i EVER not feel a deep kinship for this man. Everybody talks about the troubled years of the elder sibling. But who talks about the one child left to pick up the pieces of an already shambled family when their older sibling has made every mistake -- that they're no longer allowed to make theirs?
Honestly, though... what about the children left to pick up the pieces? Left to clean up the mess after? We're here too. I feel like this is a rather unspoken facet to the older sibling-younger sibling dynamic? If not unspoken, then terribly neglected.
The first time I had a panic attack at the backseat of my father's car, my father, with steel in his voice, asked if I was about to turn crazy like my older sister. Ignoring how I struggled to hear him over the sounds of, well, me -- gasping for air I couldn't breathe in. The first time I went home early, missing last period--because I felt cracks in my mind as stabs of anxiety made me feel bloody inside-- i was interrogated. I was asked if I so worshipped my sibling... for being so fucking cruel to my parents and wasting all the hard work that went into paying for my education. Because they felt like they were still paying for my sister's.
My father who paid for my sister's education as she studied in one of my country's most prestigious universities, told me he WASN'T going to give me the same kindness -- just in case. He didn't want to have to waste his money, he said. "So pick a small school and be done with it."
I remember my sister asking me why I wasn't hit as much as she was at my age. It's not like I was never hit, I remember telling her. But there was bitterness clinging to her person, so she asks again -- but why weren't they ever as violent towards me, as they were to her? Why.
I had it so fucking good.
We used to be in the same boat but so good of me to decide I wanted to play the good daughter.
It's because all my branches were cut so fucking short. All my leaves pruned before they ever got to grow and feel the wind. My soil poured over with boiling water so as to sanitize.
They look at the life and fire inside of you and know exactly what they must kill. I was already half dead. There was nothing left of me to hit me for. They made sure of it. THEY. MADE. SURE.
I may hold fewer bruises than you do. I may have fewer scars. But aren't you glad you still want to live? That you actually have people to fight and live for?
I think they got to me way deeper. Sorry, I guess? I'm already dead.
Of course, I never told her that. She got to have enough time in her life that her anger and bitterness fuel her own passion. I grew up holding my own bitterness in silence because there's simply no point. Not for me.
I was only living so that my parents could satiate this cruel greed to prove to themselves, that they could have one child that "wasn't fucked up" that "wasn't a failure". I spent a good chunk of my life trying to erase her mistakes. Like that was all I was here for. Allowed to be here for.
(How it fucking cost them, when I was diagnosed with my own cocktail of mental illnesses -- apparently she already has hers. I was barely allowed to "have" mine. Dad said I should be thankful.)
So maybe I look at this fictional character and feel some sort of affinity for what I can only imagine were his struggles. Rebellious older brother and the sibling left to fend for himself, and thus, overcompensating to please his parents? Younger sibling made heir because his brother ran away? Well, that's sounds terrifyingly familiar.
I wasn't a fucking nazi. Nor will I ever be. So, there's that.
Though, given my field of study, I'm well aware that had my parents been (or something similar), I would've gone to the moral deep end and followed. At least regulus fucking pulled his shit together despite the sheer lack of help he got compared to sirius. I'm really, not sure. if I'd have had enough will to do the same, much more live to die for something -- when I was in a similar household situation as him.
Granted, I'm well aware my sister isn't, in any way, responsible for the abuse I went through, just as it wasn't my words or my hands that hurt her as well. I feel the same way for the black brothers too.
It's just that sometimes the discourse around regulus can tend to get very hurtful and ignorant towards how children respond and try to survive in abusive households. Or how sirius' role as an older brother takes precedent, as if the younger kids in families don't face their own nightmares. or that sometimes THEY'RE THE ONES who get hurt the most in certain situations.
This isn't a call to aggression or the dismissal of what elder siblings go through. I'm just saying that regulus is so painfully relatable and is a powerful medium when it comes to discussing what younger kids go through. YOUR YOUNGER SIBLINGS SUFFER JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO EVEN IF YOUR VERSION OF HELL DOESN'T LOOK THE SAME.
TL;DR: younger siblings are always the last ones left. and when you're the last one left, you're the one who has to deal with everything. there are younger kids also fighting for their fucking lives, okay?
Note: i have three older siblings of which I've experienced all these things with them. Here, they've blurred into this singular presence because it's easier than actively writing out their names. Also, why would i do that? And this was written more for my catharsis. All of what I've written remain just as real. So when i say i get regulus black, i really do. I have three sirius's in my life and two of which i love but will never speak to. Ever again.
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