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amynchan · 2 years

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Everyone's got a right to their own experience with characters.

Like, it's more than an opinion. People experience things when they're faced with characters that act a certain way. Characters are often exaggerated in order to help the story along, and stories are meant to affect people, so good characters affect people. Some of the effects are intentional, some of them aren't, and it's 100% okay that people have a different experience than you.

Like, when I was watching Encanto, I was so excited for Abuela to come talk to Mirabel. To me, that was a step towards healing. Abuela knew where Mirabel had gone and had actually gone to talk to her. Not only that, Abuela was being real and ate her own words of her own volition. That was amazing for me, who doesn't see that happen a whole lot and wishes to high heaven that it would happen more often, and I was thrilled. However, my siblings, who've had older people come to talk to them when they just wanna be left alone, immediately wanted Abuela to fall into a ditch. They wanted Mirabel to get angry and stand up for herself and defend her worth and her actions.

Neither of these interpretations are the wrong way to interact with Abuela because our difference didn't mean that we instantly hated each other. Instead, it was kinda fascinating to see where they were coming from because I'd never seen someone actively coming up to you and being straight up as a bad thing, and I hope they thought my POV was at least a little interesting. We didn't belittle each other or call each other names or accuse one another of being xyz because we interacted with a set of characteristics differently from one another.

Characters are characters. Good characters—not "moral" or "righteous" or "best," but "good"—make the audience feel things.

In Fruits Basket, Shigure makes me so infuriated because I met him when I was wrestling with this gray morality thing. I know several people who love him and his conniving little ways. The two reactions can—and, tbh, probably should—coexist in this world.

In Steven Universe, when Pearl and Amethyst fight, their division makes me hurt because I've been drawn to care about both characters. There were lots of people who took Pearl's side. There were lots of people who took Amethyst's. Both could be justifiable, and a lot of people got so invested. Pearl and Amethyst made the audience feel things, and that's kinda the point.

In Modao Zushi, Jiang Cheng is an incredibly divisive character (for good reason!), but he's a good character. Some people hate him and can back that up with the text and their own experiences. Some people love him and can back that up with the text and their own experiences. It's great! It kinda sucks to see an excess of an opposite opinion, but, like, they're allowed to have that. My experience doesn't make yours invalid, and your experience doesn't make mine invalid. They're just... different.

You're allowed to look at the same text, the same character, the same story, and feel different things from another person based on that text, character, and story. It's honestly part of the fun. And if you can't interact with people who hold that different opinion (for literally any reason ranging from "this is my chill spot and I'm not about to argue with somebody over something that doesn't matter" to "the opinion I hold is tied very closely to core aspects of my personality [trauma, strongly held beliefs, etc] and seeing its opposite physically and mentally unsettles me" to "stars. not today."), then that's fine. Block the tags. Ignore. Let it goooooo (had to).

They're characters. We love them, we hate them, they make us feel things, and we sometimes do some self-reflection using them as a guide (I find that this is where a lot of anger comes from? Maybe that's just me.). But we don't have to sit there and accuse someone else that they're xyz for hating/loving/not appreciating a character.

These are stories. These are characters. They may touch on our heartstrings and make our experiences and traumas feel validated, but they do the same thing in different ways for other people. And that's okay.

We can use that to learn about other people instead of immediately condemning them. If you don't want to engage with the other interpretations/experiences, then cool. If you wanna hate a character in peace, just make sure you've got the 'anti-' tag ready to go so people don't walk into your shop ready for something they ain't gonna get.

Just... yeah. Characters, experiences, and fandoms. We don't gotta be at each other's throats all the time.

#Encanto #Abuela #Mirabel #Fruits Basket #FB #Shigure #Shigure Sohma #Steven Universe #SU #Pearl #Amethyst #MDZS #Modao Zushi #Modaozushi #Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #Jiang Cheng #OnTheSeries

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 3 years

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BBC Merlin 4x05: His Father’s Son

Here's a round-up of my main observations from BBC Merlin's "His Father's Son" (4x05).

1- MERLIN AS A KNIGHT

I have to admit that Merlin as a sorcerer and trusted adviser appeals to me the most, but I did write a lengthy post analysing how Arthur had turned Merlin into an excellent fighter. This refutes claims that Merlin gave more to Arthur than he received in return.

At the beginning of 4x05, we see Merlin selected to play a new role: that of knight. How did this come about? Arthur Pendragon is best known for his skills as a warrior, but he deserves more credit for his military tactics. These destroy the popular yet false idea that he is unintelligent. More on the latter in a forthcoming post.

One of Arthur’s favourite tactics is using decoys. Previous examples of him using decoys include: The Castle of Fyrien (3x07), when Arthur used Merlin as a decoy to entrap Cenred’s soldiers; Aithusa (4x04), when Arthur used himself as a decoy to get Sir Percival to safety; Arthur’s Bane Part 2 (5x02), when Arthur uses Merlin as a decoy to enrage the slave traders before they escape-- by far my favourite example.

All things considered, I don’t think it takes long for Arthur to choose Merlin. Furthermore, this decision may have taken place before they reached their selected location, as Agravaine later mentions a previous attack by Caerleon on the border. This choice demonstrates that Arthur has higher confidence in Merlin's abilities than he does of in his knights-- else he would have chosen them. We must conclude that Merlin is Arthur's best fighter, though at first glance, we wonder why an unarmed man follows trained knights into battle.

Merlin is sharp, fast, has high stamina, and is incredibly resourceful. Most of all, however, he is incredibly brave. In fact, when rewatching 1x02, I was surprised to see Arthur acknowledge that Merlin was "braver than you look." This despite Arthur’s frustration that Merlin did not try hard enough during practice ("Come on, Merlin: I've got a tournament to win!").

What’s more, in that same episode, Merlin complains about his first day, but later on, we see his fascination wth the ongoing tournament. Then he admitted to Gaius that working for Arthur (in the context of said tournament) "isn't totally horrible all the time." It took one day for him to change his opinion!

Sure, Merlin would continue to treat the fighting as pointless violence, and Arthur as having nothing more in his head than a desire to knock "the seven bells" out of other people (3x04). However, even in 1x02, when he applauds Arthur's fighting, his actions tell a different story. We associate this habit of liking something whilst pretending otherwise to Arthur, yet Merlin has it as well.

As I have said before, Merlin and Arthur have profound differences, yet are profoundly alike.

2- MERLIN AS A SERVANT

It comes as no surprise that Merlin would return to serving after the beginning of 4x05. However, what that change represents sets the tone for this entire episode: Arthur dismissing Merlin's counsel repeatedly in favour of listening to his uncle.

When Arthur says, "so please, stick to what you do know," you have to wonder whether Merlin remembered being entrusted with the role of knight. Now, Arthur puts him back in his place.

Here's another example: "My conscience is clean, which is more than I can say for my room, so just... do your job, will you?" Yet just yesterday, that job involved Merlin risking his life against enemy forces by dressing as a knight.

By the way, you can tell that Arthur doesn’t believe his own excuses, because he keeps using the passive voice to justify killing Caerleon: “...a show of strength was necessary… an example had to be made… My conscience is clean…”

Merlin’s face after Arthur claims he doesn’t need anyone is self-explanatory.

3- NEW THOUGHTS ON ANNIS

Is Queen Annis a good person? Actually, no.

First of all, she knows and approves of her husband invading foreign kingdoms to plunder their wealth. Such invasions naturally cost not only the lives of Arthur's men, but her own, too.

Furthermore, despite accepting Arthur's offer of a fight by single combat, she is prepared to cheat by enlisting Morgana's power. Perhaps if Arthur had died, too, she would have felt some remorse. Yet she still takes a monumental risk with Arthur's life in blatant violation of the knight's code. One has to wonder about her reaction had Camelot plotted against her armies in the same way.

Then we have Annis calmly ordering Merlin’s execution without giving him a chance to explain himself. The lack of emotion in her voice suggests she has done this before.

Speaking of cruelty, Annis’ champion seems to enjoy inflicting pain on his enemies, yet the Queen claims that he “served my husband well.” I dread to think what she means by “served”.

I will also note that Queen Annis disdains magic, referring to Morgana as “witch”. As I have said before, Uther did not begin prejudice against magic; sorcerers were disliked and feared elsewhere, too, including by those who disliked Uther. Many sorcerers caused this prejudice by engaging in manipulative, violent, and wicked deeds.

Examples include High Priestesses using Fomorrohs to enslave people’s minds (4x06); Cornelius Sigan using his power to change day into night and acquire vast wealth (2x01); sorcerers using special blades to murder people (3x04), and so on.

None of this takes away from Annis’ complexity, nor does it undermine her immense humility when she accepts defeat and withdraws from Camelot. After all, much of Annis' rage and desire for vengeance stems from intense grief over Caerleon's death, so we can assume her marriage was a happy one.

Forgiving the man who destroyed her domestic happiness (as well as leaving her people without a king) shows tremendous nobility on Annis’ part. I think Arthur sees that, for he is always humble and respectful before her.

4- LONG LIVE THE KING

Few people respect Arthur more than Merlin. So when he doesn’t join in with cries of “Long live the king!”, you know something is wrong.

5- CONTROL YOUR FEAR

Episode 4x03 has a hilarious scene where a drunk Arthur claims he isn’t even a little bit scared, because, “I’m a warrior. You learn to control your fear.” Then Arthur walks smack bang into a pillar. Never fails to make me laugh. Minus the drunkenness, Arthur was telling the truth about controlling his fear.

You can see this at least twice in this episode: first, when he sees how many men Annis has brought against Camelot, and secondly, when he sees the size of Annis’ giant. In both cases, Arthur harnesses his fear into determination, which is another sign of a great warrior.

Next up, we have a fascinating scene where Arthur watches his men joking by the fire. It's a great way of showing Arthur’s care for these men, as well as his guilt that impending war will end their lives. In a sense, Arthur has to control his fear yet again.

6- TRUST IN MERLIN

After the above scene, Gwaine asks Merlin if Arthur is all right, and the fact that Merlin can describe Arthur's feelings without even questioning the King once again shows the unique nature of their friendship. Merlin sees Arthur's expression, and he just knows. And Gwaine knows that, hence why he does not question the King himself.

Listen to the silence after Merlin's response. Nobody questions Merlin's judgement: they just reflect. Given the way Arthur has repeatedly dismissed Merlin's advance in favour of his uncle, I think he could have learned something from his own knights.

I wonder whether the knights would ask Merlin something about Arthur in this way, whenever the king was absent. In ancient kingdoms, kings had advisers, and in order to earn the monarch's favour, you spoke to the latter first. Did Merlin ever play that role for the knights?

7- MERLIN’S IDIOCY

Now, I have a problem with Merlin telling Arthur that 1)- he would have taken any other option but to face war with Annis, and 2)- his decision to kill Caerleon “was made in the best interests of Camelot.”

Sorry, but it wasn’t. Merlin knows that. I understand that he has to rally Arthur’s spirits so that they can win against Annis, but I am glad that Arthur knows full well he has done wrong. Both Merlin and many fans do not give Arthur enough credit for recognising his own errors.

However, even these foolishly optimistic statements pale in comparison to Merlin's reckless and self-righteous interference when Arthur negotiates with Queen Annis. I burst out laughing when he trips and falls headlong into the tent, a metaphor for his impetuousness.

Merlin eavesdrops outside Annis’ tent, gets caught (so he didn't conceal himself), and then has the audacity to say, “Sorry about this!” to Arthur! Not only that, he got angry over being called a “simple-minded fool”, when he couldn’t even walk in a straight line to follow the king, got himself caught and almost killed by enemy soldiers, and made Arthur look as though he were double-crossing Annis!

I completely agree with Arthur’s anger: “Oh, I was being kind, believe me: you almost got me killed in there!” Correct. Merlin simply could not trust that Arthur knew what he was doing, and decided to interfere. Instead of apologising for getting Arthur into trouble, Merlin remains on the defensive, claiming without evidence that Arthur was “doing a pretty good job of that yourself!”

This is untrue. Arthur surrendered himself to Annis’ men. The most injury he received was a slap. He asked a favour. That isn’t risking your life. In fact, Arthur was trying to save lives, and if Merlin had been listening properly (or just stayed in bed), he would have seen that. Only after Merlin’s sudden entrance did Arthur face serious danger from Annis.

Now, Merlin’s explanation for this is, “I’m your friend! I was looking out for you.” I don’t doubt it. But once again, Arthur is right: “I appreciate that in your very confused way, you’re only trying to help, but please: don’t do it again.”

Condescending? Of course. But this time it was Merlin who provoked him into this anger.

8- MORGANA

Despite all her power, Morgana still has to defer to non-magical kings and queens. After all, she requires their military assistance to take over Camelot.

You can also see how Queen Annis detects Morgana’s hatred, greed, self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and bloodlust. In one glance, Queen Annis begins questioning the wisdom of working with a sorceress she does not trust, not least on account of Morgana being a sorceress.

In fact, Arthur’s prowess as a warrior impresses her more: “You have as much to lose as I if Arthur wins…” Fascinating scene.

9- THANK YOU, OLD FRIEND

It’s ironic that arguably the best scene in 4x05 begins by showcasing Arthur’s cynicism. No guesses why Arthur did not tell Merlin about breaking off his relationship with Gwen earlier. That speaks volumes. If he had told Merlin, I think they would have had an argument similar to that of 4x11.

Only when Arthur realises that he may die does he ask Merlin to pass his ring onto Gwen with an apology. You can see the guilt etched onto his face as he refuses to make eye contact. Interestingly, Merlin does not ask any further questions.

Arthur’s entrusting Merlin to look after Gwen in the event of his death says a lot. For example, that ring is technically royal property, yet Arthur gives it to a servant for safe-keeping, rather than his next-of-kin, Agravaine. Despite claiming to need his uncle’s advice, Arthur will not trust Agravaine with such duties. Has Arthur made a medieval will or testament? Obviously, I have no idea, however, this episode already shows Arthur’s reliance on Merlin to deal with family matters.

Another interesting aspect to this scene is Merlin’s silence after Arthur makes an indisputable point. This dispels any idea that Merlin’s advice was always correct. On several occasions, Merlin had to defer to Arthur’s judgement, because he saw the truth and wisdom behind it. “I don’t know what will happen. But for the first time since I became king, I know in my heart I’ve made the right decision.”

Got to love Arthur’s half-amused, “You’re not about to start crying on me, are you?” He expects Merlin to be either in good spirits or confident, because that is how he, too, remains confident. Arthur is an optimist, yet Merlin becomes a pessimist, so the king must pull Merlin together with light and yet serious teasing.

Needless to say, Arthur calling Merlin “old friend” implies that they have been friends for a long time. So why do some fans still think that Arthur had trouble admitting that Merlin was his friend? Also, the word “old” in this context can imply reliability, constancy. Arthur chose that word to describe Merlin’s value, as well as the length of their friendship.

The great thing about Arthur is that while he makes some serious errors, when he does repent, he does so well. Not only does Arthur graciously thank Merlin for his concern, but he makes it clear to Agravaine that he relies on Merlin’s judgement prior to entering battle. This supports my earlier statement that Merlin is Arthur’s best fighter, as well as right-hand man; Arthur does not leave for the fight until Merlin has confirmed his readiness.

On top of this, Arthur later admits that he might be a cabbage head. “I should have listened to you, Merlin. Just this once, I think you were right-- even if you are the worst servant in the five kingdoms!”

By implication, Agravaine is wrong. Arthur won’t say that, of course, but we saw Merlin’s sound advice competing with Agravaine’s lies for this entire episode. We can only conclude that regardless of what he says, Arthur trusts Merlin more than members of his own family.

And this is a theme which will continue and grow for the remainder of Season 4.

FURTHER POINTS:

Merlin’s fighting skills

Paradoxes of Arthur and Merlin’s friendship

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sokkastyles · 3 years

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There are some people falsely claiming that you call others abuse apologists. What is abuse apologism?

Are there? I’ve said a couple of times that certain things are abuse apologism or reminiscent of abuse apologist rhetoric, which isn’t the same thing as saying a person is an abuse apologist. I’ve made it clear that it’s what someone is saying that I disagree with, but I’m also not going to tolerate harmful rhetoric.

Abuse apologism can be a lot of different things, from minimizing abuse to implying or stating that a victim deserved it. I’m trying to think of specific times where I said that, and I’ve talked a lot about the Azula vs Zuko stuff on tumblr because frankly, a lot of that IS abuse apologism. Stuff like trying to argue that things Azula did were really Zuko’s fault or painting him reacting to her when she’s being violent towards him as violence on his part, or the argument that I’ve also seen that it’s “no one’s fault” and they just have a mutual rivalry. I mean, ultimately, it’s Ozai’s fault, but Azula does share some of the blame there for the way she treats him and they don’t have a mutual rivalry, their relationship is very much unbalanced in her favor. Ozai created that dynamic, but Azula takes advantage of it.

I guess people may be referring to is my tag on this post about fans insisting that it’s wrong to see Zuko as nice or soft in any way because he’s “an asshole.” Which is just flat out wrong and OOC characterization, but the reason it’s abuse apologism is because a lot of the reasons people say that Zuko is an asshole are because of traits that he has because of being a victim of abuse. Of course, being abused does not excuse hurting others, but some of the things listed in that post aren’t Zuko being an asshole or a bad person, like hating being seen as weak. That’s a trait he has because of being a victim of violent abuse. Being in situations where he is vulnerable are difficult and even triggering for him, and that’s not something that should be treated as a mark against him. Especially since we’re shown that he very much craves that kind of human connection and actively works on getting better. Like, more than possibly any other character like this that I’ve ever seen in genre fiction. There are a lot of times when he puts himself in situations where he is incredibly vulnerable and you see that it’s hard for him to do, but he does it because he wants to be a good person and own up to his mistakes. Specifically I’ve talked about the scene where he tells the gaang that he’s lost his firebending. He’s angry and frustrated, but he’s not hurting anybody, and he’s taking responsibility for his own actions, and I’ve seen people call him an asshole for that scene specifically because he gets mad when Katara and Sokka are deliberately trying to provoke him. He’s entitled to be mad, he’s entitled to be upset. He’s NOT entitled to hurt other people but that’s a different thing entirely, and Zuko spends the ENTIRE SERIES learning the difference so it’s kind of ridiculous for people to still hold this against him.

Note that I am NOT saying that the gaang is abusive to Zuko for holding a grudge against him for chasing them across the world. I’m saying that you, the audience, have to be conscious of WHY he acts like that and criticizing him in this way for situations where he isn’t at fault is similar to abuse apologist rhetoric, and it’s dangerous to validate that kind of rhetoric. Another thing I get testy about, on a related note, is people calling Zuko “dramatic.” Yes, Zuko does get overly emotional. Yes, sometimes he overreacts in ways that are negative, and it’s not other people’s responsibility, especially if he is hurting others, to just put up with it. However, you do have to be conscious of the words you use to describe this, especially since this language is, sometimes word for word, the same language that his father and sister use to describe him and justify mistreating him. Azula literally calls Zuko dramatic when he’s worrying over the war meeting, and both she and their father regularly dismiss his feelings. Dramatic is a word with a negative connotation that is used to invalidate someone’s feelings, and in that particular situation, Zuko isn’t worried about the war meeting for no reason, he is literally being triggered. The last time he went into a war meeting uninvited, his father burned his face. It doesn’t take a genius to understand why he would agonize over making sure he was invited the next time.

Zuko’s arc is really complex because one of the things it does really well is portray how hard it is for him to take responsibility for his actions when he’s been repeatedly blamed for things that aren’t his fault. One of the things that is insidious about abuse is that it makes it really hard to separate out negative feelings, to separate out the things he should be feeling guilty for from the things that were never his fault, and Zuko at the beginning of the series is entitled and acting like an asshole but he’s also directing very intense guilt and self-blame at himself that he doesn’t deserve. That’s very common for kids, especially. He acts out in anger towards people who don’t deserve it and he doesn’t act angry towards the people he should be angry at. That’s also why I push back against people saying it’s wrong for Zuko to be angry, particularly when people point to instances of him feeling righteous anger towards the end of the series. Righteous anger is good and healthy. Wanting his girlfriend to be angry with him and feeling hurt that she isn’t is also good and healthy. Acting out of jealousy because she’s talking to another guy is NOT, but like, he’s sixteen and dealing with stuff that most adults would struggle with, and he STOPS that particular behavior as soon as he is called out on it. That’s good and healthy, too. Learning from your mistakes is healthy. Learning to deal with negative emotions in healthy ways is good. And Zuko deserves to be praised for that. Insisting that he should be constantly condemned for things that he actively worked to atone for feels an awful lot like abuse apologism because that’s exactly the way Ozai treated him, like nothing he could do would be good enough and he had to perform impossible tasks to keep his abuser happy.

#zuko #abuse cw

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howling-harpy · 4 years

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Mean boys

Summary: Colonel Sink gives his officers a stern talking to. Word count: 1936 * Colonel Sink’s mother had been a schoolteacher all her life. She had worked to support the two of them, and even though he had never wanted to follow in her footsteps into the profession, something about her iron will had followed him to his army career. Now was one of those moments when he felt it most. He was staring down a row of his own officers, all smart, capable, outstanding and valuable, hard-working soldiers he was proud of. Individually, at least.

Sink couldn’t quite believe he was giving this talk to his officers – Or well… he could believe it about Compton, Welsh, and even Nixon (who didn’t usually get caught), but never in a million years would have Sink thought that Dick Winters would end up in a line-up like this. To his credit, Winters was the only one who looked embarrassed to be there. Sink let his sharp gaze stare down each man in front of his desk. Welsh looked mild and bored, Compton was obviously pissed off, Nixon seemed both irritated and incredibly satisfied with himself, and Winters had all his embarrassment confined in one twitching eyebrow that was the only thing in his expression he didn’t seem to be able to control. “Now,” Sink barked at them, “I want to know exactly what’s happened. So out with it!” Immediately the three most likely guilty ones started explaining themselves at once, and the noise in the room spiked when they tried to speak over each other. “I don’t even know why I’m here – “ “I’m not going to do something useless and stupid for his amusement!” “Well it says in the manual that – “ “You’ve never opened a manual once in your damned service!” “ – it’s the mandatory gear and I have really nothing to do with – “ “ – because I don’t know anything and for once I didn’t even punch anyone, so…” “Be a man and admit it, goddammit! You know what you did!” “I’ve only responded how I’m spoken to, so actually it’s more wrong to ask me to keep calm when I’m yelled at – “ “For a reason!” “ – when I’ve really just given orders like they come from HQ and defended my honor – “ “What damn honor?!” “…so yeah, I don’t even take sides…” Sink felt a headache rapidly building up. “ENOUGH!” he snapped and slammed his hand on the desk, and immediately all three who had been yelling a second ago fell silent and stood in attention. Sink rubbed his temples. He had been with the army too long and seen way too many young men like this to be fooled by either Compton’s righteous anger or Nixon’s faked rationality. “One at a time, dammit,” he said more calmly, then glared again at each man before him and started to draft a plan how to get the truth out of them. “You, Welsh. You start,” he said after a moment, “why do you think you’re here?” A gap-toothed grin threatened to take over Welsh’s face and did no favours in clearing him, but he got it quickly under control. “Sir, I’m here for laughing,” he said in a voice that was only a thread away of making him guilty again. Sink took a deep, calming breath that ruffled his moustache. “What were you laughing at, Lieutenant?” he asked calmly. Welsh shrugged. “Nixon made funny comments and I laughed at them.” “And why has that resulted in you being here now?” Sink asked, refusing to become irritated. Welsh shrugged and smiled a wide, careless smile. “Lieutenant Compton didn’t agree with me,” he cheerfully said. Sink stared the Irishman down for a moment longer to let him know he was not satisfied, but he also had to admit that he was getting nowhere with him. What he could tell was that whatever role Welsh had played in the disgraceful display, he considered himself innocent, and so Sink turned to look at the two others mentioned standing in the middle. Compton was still red in the face, and Nixon had his characteristic expression that at the first glance seemed blank but actually held just enough of a smirk to be detected but not enough to discipline him for. Sink knew that many of his senior officer colleagues found that arrogant not-quite-smirk infuriating, but Sink thought of his mother and felt pity for Nixon; He recalled her stories about many difficult boys who were aloof but charming and who rebelled with smirks on their faces, but who often carried bruises she knew were not sports injuries or accidents like they claimed. That didn’t make Nixon innocent though. Anything but, actually. He was one of the most devilish men Sink had ever trained or commanded, and the definition of someone who was too smart for his own good. Sink looked at the two Lieutenants and gathered that whatever this was, it was most likely something that had started between them. They both pretended like it wasn’t so, but Sink could see they disliked each other deeply. They were both still boys who knew nothing about rising above your ego or acting professionally, but their attempts at it were at least a valiant effort. Still, things like this leaked through. So instead of getting to the core now, Sink decided to teach them patience and turned his eyes to Lieutenant Winters instead. He was standing there stone-faced and not a little flustered and looked remarkably boyish himself, his hands squeezed into fists like he feared he was about to be rapped on the knuckles with a ruler. “Lieutenant Winters,” Sink addressed him directly and watched his expression tighten, “what I am most curious about is what an officer like you has to do with disgraceful behavior like this?” He knew remarks like that would hurt, but Winters demonstrated his strong character once again by not covering or even flinching. He did shift on his feet, though. “Sir…” he started and didn’t seem to know how to continue. “…I was just trying to keep Lieutenant Compton and Lieutenant Nixon from getting hurt.” That wasn’t clearly all, but what Sink found the most interesting was that Winters obviously wanted to say more yet didn’t. He knew very well by now that Winters could lie with bright eyes if he felt it justified, and usually the presence of Nixon meant just that, but now he didn’t seem to be able to even circle the truth, which meant he felt guilty. “Well?” Sink urged him sternly to get the rest of it out. Winters almost squirmed. Almost. It was obvious that he wanted to, but he reined himself in at the last second. “I think I’m here for failing to stop this squabble from escalating. It should never have come to this, and I have personally failed as both a leader and a fellow officer.”

That surprised Sink. He hadn’t expected guilt that deep over an incident that, in the grand scheme of things, was pretty insignificant and nothing he hadn’t seen before.

“Well,” he said when he recovered from his surprise, “at least one of you owns up to your actions.” He turned to the other three, but only Nixon looked any different. His smirk had vanished.

For a moment longer Sink glared at his officers to let them know the gravity of his disappointment. Then he moved onto the actual reprimand, which he delivered in stern, coldly professional tone.

“You are officers. You are the example the enlisted men follow, you are what they look up to and seek out for guidance. In all things you should set the standard for the behavior you wish to see from your subordinates.” He paused, letting his words ring in the silence. “This means that under no circumstances should the enlisted men see two of their lieutenants run in circles and trying to get into a fist fight in the middle of the yard!”

Welsh coughed, obviously masking a laugh, and Sink turned to glare at him.

“Lieutenant Welsh, get the hell out of my sight. You should have put a stop to the fight instead of egging it on,” he barked and promptly jerked his hand towards the door.

Welsh assumed attention, saluted, and then hurried out, skipping over the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him.

“Now you two,” Sink said, turning to chew out the two obvious culprits. “I don’t know what the hell you’ve managed to cook up between yourselves, but it ends now. You hear me? The whole damn company suffers from whatever little juvenile rivalry you’re having, and I won’t stand it a second longer! Understood?!”

A mutual “yes, sir” was muttered begrudgingly and with minimal enthusiasm, but it came from both Compton and Nixon, so that would suffice.

“From here on, Lieutenant Compton is permitted to lead his platoon in the way he chooses as long as it’s practical and appropriate. You don’t have to follow every single regulation in every manual. From here on you have my permission to continue to do things as we’ve always done them in the Airborne.” But before Compton had the time to turn to smirk at Nixon, Sink continued. “However, you will also cease all attempts at violence against your fellow officers, as well as throwing around serious accusations of misconduct. Those could have very serious consequences, and I won’t have one of my own officers endangering the integrity of Easy company with baseless rumors!”

Compton looked like he really wanted to say something back, but bit back his words. “Yes, sir,” he forced out through his teeth, but that was good enough.

Sink turned his attention to Nixon. “Lieutenant Nixon, from now on you will bring any concerns you have about following the regulations in Easy company directly to the CO and stop interfering with individual platoon leaders. Understood?”

Nixon pressed his lips together and took a deep breath like he was incredibly bored, but breathed out: “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Sink said with a firm nod. “You are a smart officer and I hate to see you doing stupid things.” He let his words sink in, then gestured between Nixon and Winters and continued, “So how about in the future you take a look at how your friend here keeps his personal grudges to himself and follow his example? I know exactly just how close you two are, and you spend too much time around him to have any excuses of not having a clear example to follow.”

For a split second Nixon looked almost startled and glanced at Winters by his side, who pointedly looked away. Next to them Compton let out a frustrated huff that was quiet enough to ignore, which was exactly what Sink elected to do.

Once more, he looked at each one, wanting to make himself perfectly clear. “I don’t want to hear about any of this ever again, understood?” he demanded from them all.

A beat of silence passed.

“Yes, sir.”

“You won’t, sir.”

“Understood, sir.”

Sink nodded. “Good. Now get out of my sight, all of you, and get back to work.”

He watched all three of them hurrying out of this office, and when the door finally closed, he sighed. He had total confidence in the second battalion as a competent fighting unit, but moments like this reminded him that the unit was made of boys. Boys with gossip and drama they cooked up when they got together like this and then tried to be all cocky and tough to hide their bleeding hearts.

Sink sighed and thanked God and his wife for having four daughters.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #Compton #Nixon #Winters #colonel Sink #mun ficci

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mahoushojoe · 4 years

Text

In Defense of Jet

So ATLA’s been on my mind recently and while it’s a pretty nice show, there were still some things that weighed heavily on my mind, and one of them was the treatment of Jet. I always felt that there was something deeply depressing about his arc, and not in a good way. The idea of a traumatized child taking revenge on settler-colonists being the one character condemned to torture and death was very sad to me. But what saddens me more is the fandom’s reaction to him -rather than understand his situation, they seem to only really categorize him as this incel manipulator whose treatment -objectively wrong- of Katara was based on him taking advantage of her in a romantic manner rather than a person who understands that his mindset is too violent for her and is thus trying, in his own way, to achieve his goals while slowly convincing her of his point.

Keep in mind that I do not think that Jet’s actions were correct or justified. He should not have manipulated Katara like that, and to a lesser extent, Aang. That is undeniably wrong, and Katara was absolutely right to be as disgusted as she was. Additionally, his anger being taken out on a civilian village was also misplaced, albeit very understandable. This is a young boy whose parents died in order for settler-colonists to live on the land that he was traumatically expelled from. The idea that the Jet arc makes it seem like a “both sides are bad” situation is deeply uncomfortable to me. Jet’s radical hatred of the Fire Nation is perfectly justified, which is why I believe he deserved a gentler arc.

I just think that Jet had a lot of potential, and that his death was just...rather cruel. I understand where they were going with it- Jet seems to be a character that represents extremes, whether it is extreme violence as portrayed in season one, or extreme apathy after his brainwashing in season 2. Still, I feel that his arc could have also been redeemed in the sense that Jet -while maintaining his anti-colonist beliefs- transitions into a more healthy and restorative form of justice for himself and his people. It’s just...weird to me how kind the show -and by extension, the fandom- is to Zuko, who, for all intents and purposes, started the show as an imperialist colonizer, then it is to Jet, a traumatized, repeatedly brutalized child. (I am a big fan of the Zuko redemption arc and am not bashing it).

Were Jet’s actions with Katara kind of scummy? Yeah, absolutely. But was he really the worst guy ever? Definitely not. In truth, Jet is a character I actually really like, and it’s such a shame that the show cut his arc so short and painted him as a person beyond help, or a person with values too violent for the show. It’s just weird that the only type of anti-colonist activism the show seems to advocate for is totally peaceful, totally calm, tone-policed activism on the part of Aang (which is not wrong) but completely invalidates and even demonizes the righteous anger and resentment of Jet, and other more “violent” approaches. It’s a show created by white people -colonizers- who seem to empathize more with Azula and Zuko (whether they are redeemed or not, colonizers) then they do with anti-colonists, however radical they may be. Arcs like Jet’s arcs paint the whole war as a “both sides” situation, which it firmly is not, and that’s what upsets me about it all. Anti-colonial resistance is justified in all forms, and it is not up to white people to decide what is appropriate and what isn’t, because rhetoric like that ends up as an excuse for colonialism in the first place when you apply it to the real world. The additional detail of Jet being a scummy guy with Katara just REEKS of wokewashing.

I’m not gonna get into the comics, by the way, which anger me for many reasons, but if you understand what I’m trying to say here, you’ll understand that the show did not improve on this standpoint onwards.

(I am not a fan of the Republic City concept.)

Disclaimer: I’m not saying you have to like Jet. I’m just saying that his arc is more complex, on a meta level, then one might think, and that we should probably give it as much respect as we do to other arcs in the show.

There’s nothing I can actually change in the show, unfortunately, but I do urge people in the fandom to start seeing Jet less as an incel or whatever and more of just an example of a character who was far too “radical” for a show created in the country it was, and was thus given an arc that tried to villainize him. ATLA is a better show than most, but it still fell into some unfortunate and inevitable traps, and I’d like to think that we might avoid those traps ourselves.

I might get into the inherent misogyny of the Jet episode later.

TL;DR the Jet episode(s) are kinda wack and Jet deserved better.

#atla #jet #katara #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #atla meta #meta #jettara

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miernethepersevering · 4 years

Text

Zealotry

(( Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @argonas / @avehi-the-adamant following the story ‘Justified’. Tagging @nedemus and @sinafay1 / @codegemini for character mention ))

~*~*~

Argonas’ angered pacing stopped at a nearby fountain. Mierne wasn’t far behind him, having followed him from the cemetery. She made no effort to conceal her presence, though her hoof steps could barely be heard compared to his. Sparks of Light crackle across the Vindicator’s armor as he seethed. She paid them no mind as she moved to his side. There was silence as she pondered what to say. Surely, there were none that felt proper to soothe her friend's anger. Instead, she simply rested a hand on his plated arm.

...Not for long, however. He pulled away immediately with a scowl,

“ I need not your pity, nor your consolation, Mierne." he snapped.

“I offer neither. Merely a listening ear.”

“Hmph! What more is there to say? The Light's justice has failed today!”

“It did not work out the way you wished, but that does not mean it failed.”

“He is letting her GO, Mierne! He is letting Avehi continue defiling the dead, with no consequences!”

She merely shook her head, ever patient, “He is investigating."

"—What more is there to investigate?! She admitted to it!" He was shouting now as more enraged Light crackled off his body. Truly, an intimidating sight.

Though Mierne refused to allow it to affect her so. “If there is really something wrong with the afterlife, would you not want to know? If Sinafay is suffering—“

“—Enough! Sinafay is -not- suffering!

“But what if she -is-, Argonas?!” she persisted, “Would you not want to save her from that fate?!”

The Vindicator shook his head, sweeping his arm in front of him in a large negative gesture, "She died a most noble death! The Light would not allow her to enter into this 'Maw', or whatever! She is one with the Light, now!" he stated, firmly. "Avehi is lying!"

"And if you're wrong?"

"The Light would not fail Sinafay like that. It delivered me from death. It would not see her suffer in the same stroke! You trust Avehi far too much.”

“Perhaps. But you are blinded by your hatred for her. If she is lying, Khanaros will find out, and then your justice can be delivered. You must exercise patience!”

Argonas shook his head, and turned back towards the fountain, "Khanaros... hmph. He has changed.He used to carry such a definitive sense of justice. A decisive and sure demeanor. Seeing him back there, I felt I was watching a completely different person than my old mentor!”

Mierne frowned, "He hasn't changed at all. I have known him since before you were born. Khanaros has always been level headed and just! You say this because he did not make a decision you agreed with! This is a complicated issue and it must be treated as such.”

Argonas 's tail twitched. Her words seemed to strike something in him. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing at the Shaman. "No... instead, he made a decision -you- agree with. You have long been an advocate for Avehi, have you not?”

“Which is why I wasn't the one passing judgment. I was there to see that Avehi was given the proper chance to explain herself. That was my only request to Khanaros.”

“Truly? Is that -all- you were there for? You hold more sway over the High Vindicator than anyone else! Even if you did not ask directly, he knows well how close you and Avehi are. What she -means- to you! You have interfered with proper justice, Mierne! Intentionally or not... the High Vindicator must have been soft on Avehi because of -you-!” He huffed, "It is the only explanation!"

“Don't be ridiculous! Khanaros had no intentions to even speak to Avehi until Nedemus brought up the issue with the afterlife!”

“I know well he played his part in these... manipulations, as well. But this hearing would not have even happened if it were not for you and your relationship with him!”

“If you think that Khanaros put his feelings for me ahead of his duties as High Vindicator, then you are a fool!”

“Hah! -I- am a fool? I believe if you seriously think Avehi's made-up story about the afterlife being ‘broken’ is true, then it is YOU who are the fool, here!”

“I know Avehi well enough to know that she is -not- a liar. If you had any ounce of sense left in you, you would see that.”

“You knew her in life, perhaps! Undeath changes people! Twists and perverts them into monsters! I have seen it! And now that Avehi has shown herself to be one, your bias towards her clouds your judgment. And the High Vindicator's judgment by virtue of your relationship with him!"

“Certain things have changed, yes. But she is still the Avehi I knew on Draenor. Her drive to do what is right and her honesty have persevered even in death!”

“Bah! Something else entirely drives her, now. She has proven that by raising and defiling so many with her necrotic magics! Her fabricated lies about the afterlife and the Maw are just her way of justifying her abhorrent actions! And they have worked perfectly on you and Khanaros!”

Mierne let out an exasperated sigh, clearly frustrated at the Vindicator’s refusal to listen to reason.

"No... no, this is not justice,” he huffed, “This is not the Light's will! If Khanaros will not see to righteous vindication for Zaalesh and the others... I will."

Mierne stepped forward, immediately grabbing his arm again, "You will leave Avehi be until the High Vindicator finishes his investigation!"

Argonas looked down at the Shaman’s hand, before tugging his arm away once more. He scowled.

"I take no orders from -you-, Mierne! You cannot manipulate me like you do Khanaros! I will be watching Avehi closely. If she sets even half a hoof out of line, defiles any more fallen, or even breathes my wife's name again... I will do what I should have done in Northrend, and end her miserable existence! The High Vindicator has until such time to finish his so-called ‘investigation’. Otherwise, he will not need to!”

Mierne 's tail flickered in clear agitation, "Argonas, this is my final warning. Do -not- allow yourself to be led by your grief and anger."

"What else do I have?!” He snarled, “I have lost -everything- now, Mierne! My wife, my child, and now my mentor! Grief and anger are all I have left!"

“No, it is not! You cannot allow yourself to be lost to this! You are -more- than this!”

He shook his head stubbornly once more, turning from both Mierne and the fountain.

"All I am is an instrument for the Light's justice. And I -will- see justice met! Mark my words, Mierne... Avehi will atone for what she has done."

“What you are doing is -not- justice! It is zealotry!”

“No, it is vindication. And I am a Vindicator.”

As Argonas began to depart in a huff, Mierne took a step forward, but resigned to saying anything more, allowing him to leave. She had no parting words for him, only a frustrated sigh.

~*~*~

#Character Story #Mierne the Persevering #argonas the ironclad #Khanaros the Inexorable #Avehi the Adamant #nedemus #the maw #Dun dun duuuuun

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pervasivescariness · 4 years

Text

[ A Gathering of Threads]

Part Four: Scars and Regret

( @ivaan-ffxiv )

No sooner than she had sprung upon him, Ivaan's knees finally gave from under him. Metal scraped against stone as the two of them were taken to the ground. Plated arms wrapped about her tightly, not daring to let go, having to know she was there, solid, real. Not some phantasm brought about by whatever item was held in the deeper reaches of this cave... He would not put it past fate to be so cruel. But she did not vanish, or pass through him. She was there in his arms, tears splashing against his armor. Ivaan's armored head buried into the crook of her neck, his whole form rattling as he spoke.

"H-How are... Oh, Bee..." Behind his metallic mask, tears of his own flowed freely, dampening the fabric lining the interior of the helm.

Bee clung to his armored form as tightly as she could, pressing her face to that cold metal without a care, tears flowing freely onto the metal surface. A few twists of hair were caught across her face, tangled up in the hug as she squeezed him tightly. She didn't dare readjust or pull away to move her hair from her face, afraid that if she moved even slightly, he'd simply disappear. Her heart was a raging sea of emotion; the swell of elation crashing into the waves of old despair that had been trudged up anew, everything flooding her at once, stealing her words from her. She could get no more than his name from her lips as she held him, body trembling as she wept in his arms. All these years spent thinking she had lost him for good, imagining life as it could have been had he lived...and here he was now. It was some time before the words returned to her, Bee content enough to just hold Ivaan tightly until her tears began to dry.

When at last she could string together a coherent thought, she spoke, her voice quiet and muffled from where she pressed her face to him, still unwilling to move, "They told me you had died, Ivaan..."

Ivaan squeezed her tighter at her trembling, which shook them both. Her words summoned an odd sense of dread in the youth, perhaps knowing this was just the start of a very long, uncomfortable line of questioning. Entirely justified, of course, but a road he was not prepared to travel down so unexpectedly.

"I very nearly did." Twice... But that would come later. "I imagine the letter you received was penned not long after my parents... after the sickness took them. I was on death's doorstep. They probably thought that I would be long gone by the time the letter reached you all..." He sniffed loudly within his helm, gathering himself, when a sudden thought leapt from him. "What about your mother, your father? Your sisters, are they still alive too?!"

The first pang of anger prickled through Bee at this. How dare they send out a letter like that until they knew for sure? Such an errant action had caused so much distress in not only her but her parents and aunt as well. She remembered the gloom which hung over the house, the deep hurt that wracked her body for weeks thereafter; the tears which stole her voice entirely...All those years spent thinking he was lost to them. The soft fingers of guilt brushed her then; if she had known he were alive, she could have come for him...could have brought him home with her. These emotions began swirling around in her chest as well as her mind began to ask other questions. That prickle of anger became sharper...and was immediately halted by his questions.

She drew in a slow breath, trying to calm her heart and regain some composure, turning her face ever so slightly so that she might speak easier, "They're all fine, they're fine. Mother, Father, Ada and Nihme both..." But not Aunt Zovi... she thought suddenly, a sharp stab of guilt adding to her burdened heart. She chased it away with a happier thought, "...and there's now Pari and Meru too...oh Ivaan it's been nearly a decade! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about your parents-"

Bee paused, frowning slightly, her mind returning to her previous train of questions. Quite suddenly she pushed away from him, a furious slant to her brow as she held him at arm's length, staring into that faceless helm of his, the heat of anger beginning to boil through her chest. "How come you never told us you were alive?" she demanded of him, ears flat to her head now, a few wayward curls still pulled across her face haphazardly.

Even through the plates that encased him, Ivaan's relief was readily felt as the tension in his spine eased out with a sigh. Good, good... Bee had been spared the heartbreak he had endured twice over. It also explained why they never came for him, as he spent the years in the orphanage, waiting to grow up. His relief was interrupted as she pushed him away, Bee biting into every syllable of her words. Just like she always had when she got mad... It really was her... The question could not be ignored, however, even though he suddenly felt a wave of dread, and guilt, crush over him.

"I..." He looked away, unable to bear her accusing, hurt gaze. "The first couple of years, I could not bring myself to do much of anything... I ate, I did my chores, sat outside with the other kids, and slept. I was in shock." He shook his head, lowering it as he continued. His eyes closed behind the sightless visor, an attempt to shield himself from her gaze, that he might focus enough to gather these most unpleasant of thoughts. "I could not accept what happened. Not for a long time... A year, at least. With time, and help, I started to work through it. Gain some sort of grip on it all. That was when I had written, from the orphanage. But each time, the letters returned to me... With things getting as dangerous as they were, the mail was not able to get through. So I bided my time... Waiting to get big enough to leave, to find you. But things got worse, and worse... Eventually, the older kids that I had grown close to... My second family, in truth... They had decided to join the Wood Wailers upon coming of age. They were all I had left. We were all each other had left. So I faked my age, and joined with them, so we could stay together. We would protect our forest, and each other, make things better... Then things would go back to normal. I could write to you whenever I wanted, let you all know how I was doing, how much I had grown up."

Slowly, his head raised, turning to meet her gaze once more. "Then the Calamity came. The things I heard through the grapevine from traveling adventurers from abroad were bad enough. Sahagin acting up, the Imperials shooting down civilian airships, building bases in La Noscea... I had been worried enough for you all. But after Dalamud dropped... I was positive you were all dead. You had to be. They say Bahamut flew right over Limsa Lominsa. I saw the corrupted crystal formations scattered across the region with my own eyes. I did not dare seek out your village. I was terrified of what I might find if I did." By then, his body had begun to shake anew in her hands as she held him by the shoulders at arms length. "I-I am so sorry, Bee..."

As she listened to him, that fury upon her brow began to soften, the line of anger becoming one of concern. Her fingers clutched his shoulders as she kept him from her at arm's length, body rigid as she took in this new information. Hearing it all, that self righteous anger she had felt bubbling in her heart soon faded, the raging sea calming with the heavy waves of guilt for her silent accusations. It wasn't that he didn't care, that he didn't wish to see them again. Fate had kept them well apart, it seemed, through tragedy and circumstance...If he were to blame, then so too was she. What had become of her plans before Dalamud had come down? That final farewell she had told herself she had to put aside until her work was done...but that was just an excuse, wasn't it? The fact that she feared an absolute end had kept her away. Just as he had not been able to face their potential loss, she had not been able to face the finality in his death. Because there was some part of her, some quiet little hope, that maybe they had been wrong.

She had been unconsciously following a thread through a deep, dark ocean ever since.

At last she bowed her head, closing her eyes as fresh tears began to slip down her cheek. Her fingers relaxed upon his shoulder, no longer gripping him tightly as the curls slipped from where they had caught on her nose to dangle in front of her face. "No...Ivaan. I'm sorry too. Anyone would have thought the same." She frowned again slightly, her mind drifting back to that frightful night, "We couldn't have left, even if we had known you were alive...The village needed them, my parents...my aunt...me, to an extent. All hands on deck, as my father says."

The tiniest of smirks pulled at the corner of her lip as she thought of her father's tendency to speak as a sailor first in all things, "We all played our part to keep everything intact and...to an extent we succeeded, Ivaan. A good portion of the village was in ruins but most everyone...most everyone was alright." She sniffled, giving a bit of a teary laugh which sounded far more bitter than joyous. "I...I could have gone then. Once things were quiet...I could have gone and maybe we might've-"

Bee stopped, at last looking up at him, staring into that featureless helm once more, her thoughts pulled elsewhere. Through all of this he had not once made to remove that eyeless thing, confessing this all from behind a mask as though he were hiding from her. There was a peculiar sort of distance created by it, as though she were merely speaking with a suit of armor. It made her feel strange, gave the whole thing a dreamlike feel and she had to know she wasn't dreaming. Even though she was touching him, there was that biting doubt at the back of her mind. What if this was a cruel trick? She tilted her head slightly, blinking through the few tears which still clouded her eyes.

"Ivaan." she sighed, "Can you take that off? Please. I can' t keep talking to a helmet." Bee looked at him earnestly, pleadingly, "I want to see my friend."

Any feelings of relief that came with the quenching of her fury, of her assurances that the village was largely intact, vanished with her request that he doff his helm. The same distance she found so unnerving, he found comforting, making all of this easier. Like dipping one's toes into a pond before jumping in.

"You will not like what you see." The warning Ivaan stated was as cold as the steel which guarded his scarred face.

The sudden edge to his voice, that flat warning...it sent an abrupt shimmer of doubt through her...one she quickly pushed away. Bee frowned, the glint of familiar determination sparkling behind the remaining tears. In those moments she was certain that nothing he revealed to her could be worse than looking at that dispassionate, faceless helm of his. Perhaps he had a scar or two? Many adventurers did, this was the way of things; scars never bothered her. Perhaps then there was something else wrong? That maybe he grew awkwardly, that pleasant smiling face not quite retaining the charm it had once boasted. It wouldn't matter to her, looks never did; she just needed to see him in the flesh, to know that it was truly him under there. Her mind could not conjure up a single reason why his warning should be heeded.

Bee replied quietly, "I don't care. I want to see your face, Ivaan."

Ivaan said nothing more. He knew that look, even after a decade. There would be no arguing with her at this point, her mind was set. Besides, he would have to take it off eventually. It was not something he was looking forward to, however. His hands drew from her, coming along his jawline towards the back of the helm with practiced ease. Even with his sense of touch dulled behind the leather and metal of his gauntlets, the clasps and latches of the helm were easily found even in the less than optimal lighting of their lanterns and spells. The helm split in half, perpendicular to the plane of his face, and was lifted up and away from his head. The black hood that lay beneath was pulled back, revealing the same warm chestnut hues of his hair that she remembered, but longer and combed back. A quick swipe of his fingers on both of his cheeks whisked away the tears remaining from the initial shock of their reunion, and he lowered the doffed helm away. The round, boyish face she had known was gone. The years, and the trials that they had brought, had sharpened his features like a whetstone to steel... Even in the warm light, he looked gaunt, hardened... tired. His jawline was cut, angular, terminating in a pronounced chin that sported a short tuft of a beard. Above, his lips drew thin, pursed with strain of this moment he so dreaded. It grew worse, the longer the eye dwelled.

On either cheek, a darkened slash of scar tissue, widest from the jawline and growing thinner as it trailed up his face... Pointing straight towards the trough carved diagonally across most of his face, over the bridge of his nose, and up into his forehead. It looked like somebody had taken a spoon and carved it into his flesh, like one would into a pudding. A jagged canyon across his face. The wound had pulled the skin of his brow downward as it had healed, permanently furrowing his brow... Which only made it worse when he finally opened his eyes. The warmth of his golden hues had been honed into something sharp... Their opening was now akin to somebody drawing a knife as he met her gaze. He said nothing... merely waited. Waited for the horror that was about to mar his dearest friend's face at the shock of whom he had become.

<< Three || Five >>

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv rp #rp #balmung #crystal data center #Ivaan Arkwright #Bee Ohkabe #[ Reunion ]#A Gathering of Threads #Part Four: Scars and Regret #A Gathering of Threads Part Four #; A ;

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thebestdressedrebelinhistory · 5 years

Text

hicsqueak 12: things you said when you thought i was asleep

for @roguebeachcomber

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

“She’s okay, all things considered. As okay as she can be, in any event.”

They were the first words Hecate heard when she woke up, groggy and disoriented in Pippa’s bed. Pippa’s voice was hushed, but tense, even from out in her sitting room. She clearly thought Hecate was still asleep, was clearly trying to keep the noise to a minimum for her sake.

Hecate wondered, for a moment, who she was talking to. Who would mirror Pippa so late at night, and for what purpose. She considered going to check, to make sure everything was okay. The last thing she remembered was grudgingly allowing herself to be led to Pippa’s bed, with firm instructions to get some rest, you look a fright; we’ll talk about this after . It was with some chagrin and no small amount of frustration, that Hecate realized Pippa must have tucked her into bed.

Until the voice on the other end of the mirror came through, and Hecate froze halfway through swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

She knew it was Ada from the all-too-familiar sigh, before she spoke. “I’m relieved to hear that. She was quite distressed when she left this evening.”

“And why wouldn’t she be? Finding out, months after the fact, that not only did her students dose her with a personality changing potion, but there was apparently a staff-wide conspiracy to keep it a secret from her, cannot possibly have been pleasant.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Miss Pentangle--”

Pippa’s voice was hard when she interrupted, sharp in a way that it rarely was. Angrier than Hecate had heard in years. “Miss Cackle, I in no way wish to overstep my bounds--”

“I have found that those words are rarely the precursor to anything else.” Ada’s voice was mild, but Hecate immediately heard the undercurrent of hardness that matched Pippa’s own.

“Perhaps that may be,” Pippa pressed, growing imperious with a self-righteousness that Hecate was entirely too familiar with. “But I feel it would be remiss of me not to voice my concerns over the fact that some of your students intentionally drugged a member of your staff, and faced no consequences whatsoever for doing so.”

“The students in question understand the severity of their actions,” Ada said sharply. “Though I hardly see as how it is in any way your place to bring into question my school’s disciplinary practices.”

The silence that hung thick in the air was more concerning than anything Pippa might have said on impulse. Hecate could almost hear Pippa counting to ten in her head, pushing her temper down as far as it would go. As far as her pride would let it.

“To be clear,” Pippa said, finally, “you are saying that you feel the consequences meted out, nonexistent as they were, are appropriate given the… given the damage they caused?”

Hecate felt the back of her neck prickle at that. She was profoundly uncomfortable with being the topic of this conversation. With the fact that this conversation was taking place between her employer and closest friend, and… whatever she and Pippa were to one another. With the fact that people were, once again, discussing the manner in which her own students had violated her. The fact that her colleagues had actively worked to keep her from knowing.

With the fact that Pippa felt compelled to fight this battle on her behalf.

But then, Hecate had decided not to fight it herself. Had instead made up the tersest, quickest excuse she could, and left the school as quickly as possible. Had run away from problems that felt larger than she could deal with. As she always had.

“The chances were excellent that she never would have remembered,” Ada said, quietly. Hecate felt her stomach give a sickening lurch. “Personality potions almost always leave a permanent mental block that--”

Pippa’s voice rose, fury brushing at the edges. “And that makes it better? That you and your staff willingly kept something of this gravity from her? Believing that she would never remember? That it would be a secret between yourselves and every student in your school?”

It wasn’t that Pippa’s anger came as a surprise, necessarily. She had been equally outraged when Hecate had told her, had nearly flown to Cackle’s herself to tell Ada off. It had only been at Hecate’s behest -- which had been closer to pleading than Hecate cared to admit -- that Pippa had relented, wrapping Hecate instead in a furious hug and whispering I am so, so sorry over and over until Hecate thought the words might just be imprinted on her soul.

Hecate suspected that Pippa had not been the one to initiate this interaction. She doubted that Pippa would go behind her back. She had always been far too straightforward, far too open and honest for that. And if nothing else, Pippa would know how personal a betrayal Hecate would find it if she did.

Which meant that Ada had called to inquire about her well-being.

The words too little, too late sat heavily in the back of Hecate’s mind, cold and bitter. For years, she had considered Ada her closest, most trusted friend. As much as it stung, the knowledge that her students hated her enough to try and use magic to fundamentally change who she was as a person wasn’t what had truly hurt. It was the fact that Ada -- and the rest of her colleagues -- had known and not felt that she had the right to know. That they were seemingly content to keep this a secret from her for… how long?

“How,” Pippa continued, dangerously, “can you possibly call yourself her friend, if you ever thought that this wouldn’t be a violation of the greatest order to Hecate?”

There was a moment of silence so long, Hecate almost thought that someone had ended the call in anger. But then, Ada’s voice came through, hesitant and uncertain and lacking the defensive edge Hecate had heard before. “I had to take into consideration that the girls in question were first year students. That they are children, who had little concept of--”

“Or, you didn’t want to expel Ursula Hallow’s daughter while she was out for your blood.”

Pippa was treading dangerously close to crossing a line, Hecate knew. But the thought had occurred to her; had, in fact, been the first thing to occur to her, when she found out. And a part of her was relieved, in a pathetic, somewhat spineless way, that someone else had thought of it, too.

That someone else had said it.

Even if it wasn’t her.

Even if Pippa had once again stepped up to fight Hecate’s battles when she herself shied away from them.

Even if some part of her understood. Understood Beatrice and Clarice and Sibyl, and their frustration. Understood that her coworkers wouldn’t want to broach that topic, wouldn’t want to justify their decision to her.

To some degree, she even understood the decision itself.

“Miss Pentangle.” The edge in Ada’s voice was back, harder and angrier than ever. “Do you think it at all possible that you might be biased in this situation?”

“Miss Cackle, even if I were, would that make me wrong?” Even from the bedroom, Hecate could hear the way Pippa’s voice sharpened like a knife, cold fury in every word.

Ada’s sigh was so soft, so resigned, that Hecate barely heard it. “I don’t know . It was… is… a very difficult situation. I don’t believe that there was any good way to handle it. Clearly, you disagree with the choices made. But they have already been made, and no amount of ire on your part will change that.”

“Then I will assume I have answered your questions to your satisfaction, and let you get back to sleep.” Pippa’s voice was terse, heavy with everything she had left unsaid. Everything Hecate knew she still wanted to say.

But Pippa would respect decorum when it was forced on her, however grudgingly.

Ada must have acquiesced, because not two minutes later, Pippa appeared in the doorway, frustration coming off her in waves. She blanched when she saw Hecate sitting upright.

“I’m sorry, Hiccup,” she said, making her way over to the bed and sitting down heavily. Hecate shifted slightly, adjusting her balance as the mattress moved underneath her. “Miss Cackle called asking after you, and you were asleep, and…” Pippa trailed off, the way she always did when she was uncertain about something. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she said, finally. “I thought… considering everything… that you deserved a night’s rest.”

She said nothing of the content of their conversation, though she had to know that Hecate had heard. And Hecate, for her part, had no particular desire to bring it up. She didn’t know what she would say, if she did. Thank you for standing up for like you always do, even if I’m not certain I agree with you had a rather poor ring to it.

“I appreciate you taking the call,” Hecate said, slowly. “I don’t believe I am… quite fit for conversation at the moment.” She said it grudgingly, but she also knew it to be true on some fundamental level. The thought of talking to Ada tonight turned her stomach in a most unpleasant way. She would get over it, she was sure, eventually. But eventually was not tonight, and tonight, the only thing Hecate wanted was to think of literally anything else.

Which was something Pippa apparently understood. With a gentle nudge of her shoulder against Hecate’s, she said, “Now move over, for goodness sake. You know how tired righteous indignation makes me.”

Hecate didn’t even try to conceal the chuckle that bubbled up in her throat. “I do remember something of the sort, yes.”

Hecate moved back to the other side of the bed -- her side, on the nights she spent with Pippa -- and eased back under the covers, turning to face the window. She wasn’t convinced that sleep would come again quite so easily, if at all. But she knew that for all her talk, Pippa wouldn’t actually fall asleep unless Hecate did. That she would refuse to leave her alone, no matter how much Hecate tried to insist that it was unnecessary. And, if she were being completely honest, Hecate had to admit that, at least for tonight, that was something she appreciated much more than she let on.

Pippa slid into bed beside Hecate, and wrapped one arm around Hecate’s stomach, warm and solid and exactly the right kind of there . “I’m glad you’re safe, Hiccup,” she murmured, softly into the back of Hecate’s neck. “I’m glad you came to me.”

Hecate’s breath caught in her chest for a moment. Then, she turned her head, just enough that Pippa would be able to hear her, and said, “So am I.”

#hicsqueak #hecate hardbroom #Pippa Pentangle #the worst witch #the worst witch 2017 #tww #fanfiction #things i write

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osmw1 · 5 years

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Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 70

what would you like to read next? suggest titles for me to translate!

“Do it.”

The priest might have been whispering, but he wasn’t quiet enough. He must be up to something since he didn’t angrily shout that out loud. Perhaps following his order, the mages that were standing behind the priest suspiciously disappear behind a crowd of people and then unleashed a magic spell at me. They totally waited to pounce! But then instantly…

“Damn you!”

Celes entered a fit of rage as soon as our duel was interrupted. She scowled at the priest before turning to me.

“Cohgray, watch out!”

I began evading the sudden magical barrage downpour. Hmm. It was easy to predict the trajectory. I dodge out of the way as the spells caused many explosions. However…

‘Stay focused!’

The hidden mages missed me the first time but following the priest’s command, they continued to fire area of attack spells at me. Just as I was contemplating how to avoid getting hit this time… Celes rushed in front of me and sliced the magical attack with her sword.

“Haah!” Whoa! That was totally amazing.

‘‘tis a skill by the name of Magic Parry. It is most certainly a difficult one to master, but… fitting for the head of the dragonslayers. She is powerful… for a human.’

Then she pointed her sword at the priest as her anger emanates from every part of her.

“How dare you insult this sacred duel?! There is no contest whether you or Cohgray is the righteous one and anyone would feel the same!”

She kept her sword up and continued to speak.

“You have sent so many to their deaths without a single problem. I had wondered what was troubling you. But now, I see very clearly why you are intent on eliminating Cohgray—for he is able to lift your curse!” “You are deranged! You wish for a sacred duel with something like him? How absurd!” “How is that absurd?! Cohgray was originally a Ranger and a powerful one at that. It is only because of our meddling he has needed to master the use of poison! Yet, during our duel, he held back his poison and was still able to match my every move. How else am I to respond to his honor?!”

She lifted her sword above her and pointed it at the priest once again.

“Sir Elfé, representative of the Teachings of the Sacred Yggdrasil of Saint Yggdra! I, Celes Arnold, leader of the Dragonslayer Corps, demand an answer from you! Do you admit to having committed the evil deed of cursing the families of fellow followers of the Teachings?! Answer at once!” “How dare you accuse me of such preposterousness?! You lowly, despicable human!” ‘Hmm… judging by his words, he seems to be of another race.’

A haughty people? That sounded familiar… The poison in my system was very tough on my body. Ugh… my body had adjusted to Veno’s poison and it has been recovering, but my heightened abilities were waning. My wounds have healed but my fatigue was yet to have fully recovered. It was rough, even with the passive recovery granted by my leather armor.

“This is unforgiveable! With my authority, I strip you, Celes Arnold, of all title! Now… kill the dragon sympathizers!”

The rest of the dragonslayers had been confused and wavering from the beginning. Now with how the situation had unfolded, they all stared daggers at the priest.

“What is the meaning of this?! Do you lot also resent the truth?!” “Right now and here, which side do you guys think is righteous? It’s a very clear answer, if you ask me.”

Celes’ comrade, the one whose mother I had helped, spoke to his fellow dragonslayers.

“Ignoring the current situation, who seems more bothered by the truth? I don’t think Cohgray’s party has said anything untrue so far. But more importantly, after watching him and Miss Celes duel, it’s obvious why he fights and what he’s trying to escape!” “We must protect the one who can save our families.” “Once he gets captured, there will be no way for us to save him. We must protect Cohgray.”

The whole squad of dragonslayers spoke out one by one, unanimously agreeing to defend us and to stand up to the priest.

“Sir Elfé, if you must arrest Cohgray no matter what, at least first show us proof that he is lying about what you had done to our families.” “Surely, you can tell that forcing things like this would only grow distrust amongst us.” “Now is not the time to capture Cohgray and his party.” “We’re not here for a witch hunt.”

At the end of our duel, the dragonslayers all felt the same way. Their identical desire to save their loved ones was incredible. Meanwhile, I considered how to convince them to let me go or how to escape. One possible escape route was jumping through the hole caused by their magic and to head into the sewers.

“That man is the dragon! Dragonslayers! Do not be fooled by him!” “Hmpf… even if Cohgray is the dragon…”

Celes swung her sword around and then held it up high.

“… I trust his concern for my family! And that… that is human!”

Then, she swings down and releases a shockwave at the priest.

‘Hmm… the dragonslayers are not all fools. I would have expected them to double down on their religion. I see them in a new light now.’

Celes is an upright person.

‘I cannot deny that. But morals can be corrupted too. Well, she is already being used by the enemies.’

The priest erects a barrier to defend against the force from Celes’ blade.

“You fool! Your foolishness makes my blood boil! Know your place, you lowly humans!”

I could almost see the smoke rise out of his head as he roars out in rage… but then, his trembling ceased, and he looked away.

“Enough… you shall get your just deserts for making such a foolish choice. The heavens shall punish every single one of you. The citizens of Lif’el will know that you brought destruction upon them!”

A large sphere suddenly appeared in the sky, seemingly rolling in place. I wondered what the hell that was. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there’s a countdown ‘til the thing activated or something…

“Wha—?!”

Then, a blinding light emitted from the sphere… and body parts start to assemble into some sort of monster. It had the heads and tails of snakes, dragons, and wyverns and a body of what seems to be a dinosaur, altogether about 10 meters in length. The indescribable and mysterious monster stood in front of us.

Bio Corpse Hydra

Veno’s analysis gave a name to what was in front of me.

“What on earth?! No way…”

Celes and the dragonslayers looked at the beast in fear as it horrifically screeches.

‘Hmpf… ‘tis an absolutely ludicrous amalgamation of many fearsome monsters. How preposterous.’

Veno matter-of-factly muttered aloud. His calmness thinly veiled the anger and loathing within him.

“Perhaps you recognize it! Yes, indeed, these creatures are the very ones you have slain, now combined to form a singular weapon! With this living weapon, I need not dragonslayers! How the tables have turned on you lot! Now, perish for me.” “Talk about letting the cat out of the bag…”

There simply was no way the priest could justify his actions now.

“No one will remember that this happened. That is to say, nothing had happened here.”

At the same time, the towering Bio Corpse Hydra spat out something. What the hell was that? It looked to be the same thing as the sphere from which it came. As soon as I could assess what it was, it began to unleash its powers. Miasma Bomb.

‘Hmm?! Is this the same thing recorded in the memoir of the lass’ ancestor?!’

The airburst miasma bomb detonated in a great flash of light. But when it came in contact with me… it felt rather soothing.

“Arghhhh…” “Gaaaaaaah!” “Hyaaaaa?!” “Muuuu!” “Muu-Muu!”

Though I was unaffected, everyone else—including Celes and Arleaf—began to hurt. Muu had even tried to protect Arleaf with his large helmet.

“Arleaf! You alright?!”

The glow from Karma Blaze was pulsing as it faintly blipped out loud, protecting a small area around Arleaf.

“I-I’ll be—cough—I’ll be fine…”

Everybody in the immediate area was turning paler by the moment.

‘‘tis a Miasma Bomb. It will taint Lif’el and turn it into a wasteland, killing all life within the area.’ “You’re kidding!” “Elfé, you bastard…”

Celes pierced the priest with her gaze.

“Do you seriously think Saint Yggdra—let alone the whole world—would let you get away with this?!” “Hmpf. No one will believe whatever you lowly dragonslayers have to say. Not that there will be anyone left alive in the first place…” “You would wipe out a whole town just to silence them…”

The cool, composed priest scowled in his magic barrier. Not only did he intend on killing all witnesses, but the whole town.

“You lowly humans still have not learned your place!”

The priest began to explain himself.

“Our duty to restore the world tree remains unchanged. But the monsters and their king that live in the miasma are obstacles to our goal. If we do not exterminate them, how will we ever be able to restore the world tree?” “Don’t you think that’s a little backwards?”

I worked in at exploitative sweatshop, y’know? The bosses were always incompetent slave drivers who thought only of themselves, leaving all the work to us subordinates. They didn’t get the big picture. If the restoration of the world tree is their goal, then do that as you fend off attacking monsters. Why did they bother going on crusades?

‘Ah. But with that hideous beast, they must be intending to subjugate the world with its might.’

They pretend to want to save the world, but their true intentions are selfish after all.

“Humans are weak creatures… which is why these terrible monsters must be controlled and used as weapons of war. It is more efficient than any sort of possession summoning. And, it never misses.”

He’s not wrong in that Forced Possession Summoning is a pain in the ass. They barely missed Veno since he is simply too powerful.

‘Utter fools… they know not that their priorities are backwards. How can they claim to protect people by hurting them…’ “cough… even so, we will never give up!”

Celes raised her voice to inspire all those around her.

“Cohgray, you seem unaffected.” “Uh, yeah… but your comrades…” “Worry not. This is the path they chose… though they would have never imagined that it would lead to this. Still, I wish to save the townsfolk. Cohgray, do you know of any way to protect one against the miasma?”

I wondered if Veno had any ideas.

‘It shall take time, but it is not impossible.’ “It’s extremely difficult, but yes.” “I see… then we will do our best here. Please, in the meantime, save as many people as you can!” “But your friends…” “…”

Celes kept quiet and stared down the priest. It seemed as though she never thought of helping them in the first place.

“Cohgray, do me another favor. If you are able to escape, head to Niez in Saint Yggdra… see if you cannot save my sister.”

what would you like to read next? suggest titles for me to translate!

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /ch027/ /ch028/ /ch029/ /ch030/ /ch031/ /ch032/ /ch033/ /ch034/ /ch035/ /ch036/ /ch037/ /ch038/ /ch039/ /ch040/ /ch041/ /ch042/ /ch043/ /ch044/ /ch045/ /ch046/ /ch047/ /ch048/ /ch049/ /ch050/ /ch051/ /ch052/ /ch053/ /ch054/ /ch055/ /ch056/ /ch057/ /ch058/ /ch059/ /ch060/ /ch061/ /ch062/ /ch063/ /ch064/ /ch065/ /ch066/ /ch067/ /ch068/ /ch069/ /ch070/ /next/

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rabbirose · 4 years

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America, Sodom and Gomorrah

Rabbi Joshua Rose

5/31/20

The Talmudic account of the ancient city of Sodom contains a do-or-die lesson for us in this American moment.

As we look out on our burning cities, awash in chaos and rioting it is hard not to think about Sodom and Gomorrah - two cities which were destroyed by God on account of their wickedness. The townspeople of the City of Sodom were said by the Mishnah to be without a share in this world or the World to Come because they were wicked (רעים) and sinners (חטאים). While Sodom didn’t witness riots per se, attacks on property owners were listed among the crimes the rabbis associate with the city’s wickedness. We learn that the citizens

set their sights on property owners. They would take one and place him alongside a leaning wall and push it upon him, and would come and take his property….They would set their sights on property owners. They would give [one of them odorous] balsam and the property owner would place it in his treasury. In the evening, the people of Sodom would come and sniff it out like a dog...they would come and dig there, and they would take that property. (B. Talmud Sanhedrin 109a)

Many Americans are rightly outraged by the rioting, burning, looting, theft and generalized violence sweeping the nation’s cities. Based on these talmudic narratives we can assume that rabbis would share our anger.

Some argue that rioters should be given a moral pass because their actions are the inevitable result of injustice. I don’t like this line of thinking. First the argument robs people of moral agency and therefore undermines the philosophical underpinnings of progressive politics; it obscures the fact that the vast majority of victims of injustice do not choose violence as an answer; and it is insensitive to the need for justice of those innocents victimized by such violence.

However our Sages descriptions of the famously corrupt city of Sodom points to a different problem with focusing on the riots. What separates the rabbinic account of this social disorder from so many American observers is that our Sages viewed the violence against property as part of a whole. The looting was wicked (ra’ah) and part of a society awash in ra’ah v’cheit, evil and sin. The long litany of moral abuses and crimes against God places these attacks against property owners in a context of moral chaos. (Those excited to read of Divine wrath against ‘sodomites’ will be disappointed; while it remains a curious obsession of the moralists of American religiosity the rabbis’ focus is decidedly elsewhere).

In midrashic and Talmudic texts Sodom was a city where the economically and socially vulnerable were brutally mistreated. The account above is from a long Talmudic passage that bewails, among other things: selfishness, stinginess, violence, cruelty, inhospitality, theft, exploitation of widows and orphans, mistreatment of the poor and even those who seek to assist the poor, financial exploitation, and false judges who pervert justice. In Jewish texts the emphasis is clearly and overwhelmingly on the exploitation of vulnerable people and the apparent total absence of an ethic of justice. Sodom was a place where anyone’s vulnerability would be seized upon for profit and gain.

In other worlds, the destruction of property decried by the rabbis doesn’t stand out in the Talmudic description. Property theft is unsurprising in Sodom because it is part of a poisoned moral ecosystem. In fact the rabbis do not draw any special attention to it as they list horrors of the society.

The rabbinic description of Sodom is a bit of a jumble. There seems to be no order, no causal progression of one kind of transgression to another. A story of the have-nots stealing from the haves is placed without comment alongside a narrative of the wealthy brutalizing the poor, which in turn precedes a picture of an exploited widow. The effect is a portrait of a society in the grasp of moral chaos. Nowhere is there respect for the dignity of the other or a concern with the moral needs of the fellow person.

Yet for Americans the riots are a singular sign of the loss of moral order: “If we can bring these paroxysms of violence to a halt with a curfew, if we can restore property to the victims, then the emergency will have passed. As for the murder of George Floyd, certainly it was a wrong. But the justice system will do its work, and social and moral order will once again be restored.”

But approaching the rioting and even the death of yet another African American man in this way misses the larger picture. The violence of those who are rioting is wrong, cruel, immoral. But it has to been seen as a continuum of violence. A riot cannot be excused but it can shed light on the moral background against which it takes place.

And our own alarm is equally revealing. Why are we shocked by a burning car or the broken shop window but more or less indifferent to the rank racial injustice within our country? How can we decry the damage done to business that employ people but remain unconcerned with the fact that poor people in America are increasingly desperate in their futile fight against poverty? How can believe that a single jury might deliver justice to a murderous cop but continue to accept breathtaking imbalances in wealth and power right under our noses? Every injustice is a form of violence.

The rabbis understood that wickedness does not have a single form, is not identified by specific acts. Rather it is a moral choice made by individuals that comes to characterize the indifferent society. America has adopted policies that continue to make the lives of the vast majority of poor people and people of color increasingly difficult, painful and short.

A famous Midrash tells of God’s decision to go down to the corrupt cities and see if things are truly as bad as indicated by the cry of a particular victim. God had heard a girl cry out.

Rabbi Levi said: [God said]: ‘Even if I wished to keep silent, justice for a certain maiden does not permit Me to keep silent.’

For once happened that two girls went down to draw water from a well.

One said to the other, ‘Why are you so pale?’

‘We have no more food left and are ready to die,’ she replied.

What did she do? She filled her pitcher with flour and they exchanged [their pitchers], each taking the other’s.

When they [the Sodomites] discovered this, they took and burnt her.

Said the Holy One, blessed be He: ‘Even if I desired to be silent, justice for that young girl does not permit Me to keep silent.

How much longer will we make the mistake of being particular about which forms of violence will cause us to raise our voices?

The Sodom and Gomorrah tale has another important lesson for us. A careful reading leaves a sense of narrative imbalance, a frustration of our expectations as readers. Abraham famously prevents God from destroying the cities on account of the fifty righteous people who might live there. Then forty, and so on down to ten. We want the story to end with ten righteous people raising their voices to save those around them, justifying Abraham’s interference with the Divine plan. Instead the patriarch wins the argument but God wins the day. The cities are destroyed.

If the story is unfinished, though, it is because we are still writing it. We are right to insist on individual responsibility and that those employing violence and destruction should be held accountable. But the true test of Sodom is whether we will continue to insist on our own moral responsibility as well. Will God find a community of people to raise their voices against the wickedness they see? Will we raise our voices and save our cities?

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totaldramafan-lauri · 5 years

Text

Gushing over my current favorite song, don’t mind me

WARNING: FANGIRLING

You’ve been warned.

My favorite song in the SU show proper is “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” I find that song pretty much perfect, with excellent lyrics and gorgeous vocals. I still remember the first time I heard it. I was blown away. I credit it, and Mr. Greg in general, for renewing my interest in SU when I was moving on from it. I STILL consider it one of the best episodes of the show, and adding that significance to it just made me love that song more. I thought that the show’d have a hell of a time trying to top it, and if it ever DID, it’d be outstanding.

Well, it took them three years, but.....th-they did. Hoo BOY, they did.

How do you top a technically perfect song to me? Well, by appealing to my specific interests, of course!

Enter “Other Friends” from the movie, and....y-yeah, I never stood a chance. >/////>

Now, one of the things that can REALLY make a musical number is context. Sure, a musical number can be awesome on its own, but it can also be made even better when you put it in context of the story. If I heard “Other Friends” for the first time completely by itself, just the audio, with nothing else attached, I wouldn’t have loved it NEARLY as much.

I’m grossly biased towards this song, not gonna lie. B-but...I can’t help BUT be! Keep in mind, that when you have a character you’ve never seen before, and they introduce themselves by singing a song, then that song will be forever associated with that character. It’s a thing that happens a lot. That song was the audience’s first impression of the character, so it makes sense! So, if you end up loving the character to death, then your opinion of their intro song goes up by a lot....a loooooot....

“That’s right, I heard the story over and over again~!”

Spinel is the best. To me, she’s the single best character to come out of this series. She is SO COOL I can hardly stand it. Her character design, her unique animation style, her voice....ESPECIALLY her voice....everything about her is just pure gold!! I love watching her! I love listening to her talk! She’s just....SO entertaining!

Lemme tell ya, if there’s one character type that I tend to gravitate towards above all others, it’s this: Charismatic, showy, villains. Villains who are intelligent and competent, yet fun. Where you can’t justify their actions, but you want, you YEARN, to see more of them. And Spinel is all that and more. She manages to be super cool and fun while also being very complex. (However, at this point in the movie, I didn’t know that part yet) And it was so unexpected for me! I NEVER thought I’d get that type of character from Steven flipping Universe! Usually, the villains in this show are nothing like that! Usually they’re all very serious, self-righteous “I believe I’m doing the right thing” types! In this show, it’s the heroes that are usually the most fun...But not this time!

I knew I would like her from the very beginning, when she said “Lemme get a look at the menagerie~” and her rebuttal to Pearl recognizing her, but I had no idea of just how bad I’d get it. And then she started singing. And I just about LOST MY MIND. The villain song, this early? And from a character that looked so flipping cool already? Count me in!

It should come as no surprise that I love music, so when a character I love sings and sounds good, I’ll usually flip out. XD And this song exceeded ALL my expectations....The song itself AND the scene...

Where to even start with “Other Friends”...Well, I guess I can say that, if you don’t like Spinel as much as me, or at all for some reason, then I feel so sorry for you because this is a song that will take up permanent residence in your head and will not care how much you want to evict it. Even removing how much I adore the character singing it, this is a WILDLY catchy song! That beat is addicting! I didn’t even know I LIKED electro-swing until this (I mean, I guess there was “Still In Love With You” from Eurovision 2015, which I liked?? But that’s it), but now I’m actually curious about the rest of the genre! And it’s an absolutely perfect way to introduce Spinel, because it’s a style that’s perfect for her! It’s retro, like she is, and is very bouncy, like she is! It fits with her playfulness! But that part’s obvious by now...

And then...there’s the vocals. Holy crap, I flipping loooooooooove her voice! I’m not that familiar with Sarah Stiles (I’ve heard the name, but haven’t seen anything else she’s been in), so I didn’t know what to expect, but man oh MAN did she flipping KILL it as Spinel! I can see clearly why she’s a big deal now! She has soooo much energy, and she really got into the character! Spinel’s unhinged personality clearly shines through...the way she just....switches between playful and threatening....stuff like that, I’m a real sucker for....It’s good stuff. Good. Flipping. Stuff.

I even notice the small things about her voice....like her slight accent...a-and the small growls....

And while the song is going on, we get confirmation that this is a villain NOT to be trifled with, as she utilizes her strange powers to “play” with the Crystal Gems as they’re unable to touch her once. All the while she’s acting all playful (the little flick to Pearl’s nose), and seems like she’s having a blast picking on them, untiiiiiiil.....crap hits the fan when she finds out Pearl didn’t tell them about her.

She becomes menacing.

“Who am I!? Who am I!? What are you even saying!?”

And then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she whips out her Rejuvinator! We have a really awesome unique villain who’s singing a really awesome catchy song while beating up the main characters with a smile on her face, and now she’s got a flipping SCYTHE!! And at this same time, we also get the best part of the song, where her voice gets even BETTER as the intensity rises...

“Let’s play another game, this time I get to win~ Lives on the line! Winner takes all! Ready or not, LET’S BEGIN!”

And she’s just twirling her weapon like she’s Ruby Rose or something, and it’s become SUCH a spectacle! At this point, I could not stop grinning. I’d been smiling throughout the whole song, but NOW, I can’t get it off my face. It’s stuck there. I think, in that moment, that this has officially become a love letter to me. I’d never enjoyed SU THIS MUCH before, and I already liked it! But now....it felt like I’d sold my soul to it...or at least, to her.

The song ends on that perfect note....that “OOO-THEEEERRRR....frieeends~” as she poofs three of the main characters in a single blow. Still with that smirk on her face....

I was slightly bummed that the song was over, but I wasn’t for long. Yeah, my favorite part of the movie is not just the song, but actually Spinel’s whole intro scene. That whole thing.

She proceeds to attack Steven, just giggling, giggling maniacally, before outright taunting him. And we get more of her great expressions and incredible line delivery....

“Your human half won’t stand a chance against my Injector...not after what I just did to your geeeem~”

“You weren’t always a powerful hero, were you~?”

Then Steven manages to get the jump on her, and slices her across the face. Her response? More giggling. That didn’t matter to her. Her job was done.

......And then....it was over.

I was left just....wanting to scream at how cool that was. I was almost in disbelief...my heart was beating so fast.....There was no going back. I was doomed.

And that was my first experience with “Other Friends”, the song that still makes me squee every single time I listen to it. Yes, it still gets a reaction outta me even now...It’s been years since I’ve heard a song that gets to me this flipping much...Sure, it might be because of the character, and the context....but it’s become something that I just can’t take away from it.

____________

Then we learn about who she used to be....what she was created to be. And it only made the current her even cooler in my eyes. She was only supposed to entertain, being essentially a jester, nothing more. Just tell jokes, make everyone smile, basically a Gem Pinkie Pie. And yet, much like Pearl, she went against that purpose and became someone much more...She’s smart, and she can fight. And that wasn’t supposed to be natural for her! How cool is that!?

We do find out that the reason she became like this was extremely tragic...but, to me at least, that didn’t make her any less entertaining. Sure, she’s sympathetic for sure, but she’s more than that. She’s not just angst, angst, angst. She’s still one of the most dangerous opponents the Crystal Gems have ever faced! After we learn her backstory, she still has great moments and great lines. I didn’t....want it to end....

Spinel was an outstanding villain. Cool and fun, yet sympathetic. She wasn’t an “innocent bean that can do no wrong” (like she was before she snapped), no, she was still a villain! She was trying to kill Steven, despite knowing he had nothing to do with her trauma! She just wanted someone to take her anger out on! She was NOT in the right! But you still wanted more of her....h-her devious smirk, her voice....her attitude from “Other Friends” was still there....You still felt sorry for her, but not in a way that made her hard to watch. It’s the perfect balance....

And “Other Friends” was the perfect introduction to such a character, and nothing can take away from that song. With her good and her bad, she stole viewers’ hearts, and it all started with that.

Sure, a part of me is worried about what Future could possibly do with her now that she’s redeemed, but I’m gonna try to go in optimistic. Sure, she’s happy, but...All I want is for her to not be made boring, or exactly like her past self. But knowing SU, there’s a chance that shades of the cool Spinel COULD possibly still remain (I mean, they did keep Peridot entertaining after HER redemption, so maybe?)

But even if that ends up not being the case.....heck, even if she ends up just being just a cameo.....at least we have this movie. This excellent, excellent movie....

And “Other Friends”.

For a few glorious minutes, I got everything I ever wanted. So I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

#HOOOOOOLY CRAP THIS IS LONG #IM SO SORRY #but it feels good to get that all out #I CANT BELIEVE I ACTUALLY DID IT #hopefully the next time i go on about spinel it wont be to THIS EXTENT #since ive basically summed everything up now here and in past posts #and i dont wanna repeat myself too often XD #opinions

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/messages-from-the-angels-forgiving-yourself/

Messages From The Angels ~ Forgiving Yourself....

FCGCT Commentary: We are moving from the mind, to the Heart… not the balancing of the two. The brain acts as a conduit while the heart processes. The mind conflicts with the Heart, and is the cause for imbalance, pain, fear, suffering and more. The mind… the ego, blocks the Heart, as it Edges God Out. Let go of the mind, and solely flow from the Heart, connected to the Unified Heart in Unity Consciousness. Thoughts turn to feelings, and beliefs to to knowing. Belief systems are based in lies and only the heart knows the truth. Anything that does not bring joy is not real! Let go of wants and needs and move toward a paradigm grateful receiving. We are moving into a paradigm of passion for co-creation in love everywhere present. Wants, needs, and desires are EGO traits, true passion is expanding love into creation with pure intent and creation of New Earth energy. Desires turn to passion and must be in aligned intention of new earth = heart. Change must be embraced, accepted, and allowed, as LOVE is the only frequency that will move forward. Change is positive and with it comes expansion. Allow change and embrace the energies pouring out from Mother of all Creation.

Messages From The Angels ~ Forgiving Yourself….

a message from Ann Albers

My dear friends, we love you so very much,

This week we journey deeper into our discussion of forgiveness, so you can free yourselves from the pains of the past and reclaim your birthright of Divine Joy!

If you embrace this discussion beloved souls, then reclaiming your Divine joy will be so much simpler, for beneath every single upset, every single frustration, every feeling of anger towards an insensitive, abusive, or unconscious soul there is only one feeling, one thought, that binds you to pain.

There is only one illusion beneath all upsets that keeps you prisoner to the past, and this is the belief that someone or something else “caused you” to forget the love that you are.

You are always lovable. You always want to be loving. The hurtful behaviors of others expose the areas in which you don’t love yourself, or you find it difficult to be loving.

You may object and say, “Angels! You don’t understand! I was raped! I was beaten! I was abandoned! I was lied to, betrayed, belittled… I have a right to be upset at the other person!” We would reply, “Yes you do.” There is absolutely such a thing as righteous anger. The soul knows it deserves to be treated with love.

However, with all the love in our hearts we would say that after the initial outrage passes and when the anger remains, there is a deeper upset within. You are – deep in your spirit – upset that negative and painful behaviors have triggered you to forget how loved and loving you truly are.

If you could feel the love of God for you, and the true nature of your loving soul, then in an instant the pain of your past would burn away as if a match was touched to a piece of tissue.

The light within you is that powerful. When you can’t feel your connection to it, you hurt, you blame, and you obsess over the past. It is very human. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Hurtful actions are not and never will be “OK.” However if you can embrace this concept: that your deepest desire is experience yourself as loving and lovable – eternally connected to the Source – then you can free yourself and release yourself unto the joy that is yours!

Say to yourself, “I am upset at the pain in my past, but even more so, I am upset that it triggered me to forget my connection to the Love that lives within me. I cannot change the past. I cannot change those who hurt me. I can however, choose now to focus on reconnecting to the Presence of Love within. This is what I want more than anything.” It is dear ones. It is the One Love that your spirit craves beneath all desires.

The people that hurt you are your catalysts or your supporting actors in a drama where you wish to become the hero, the Christ, the light and love of your own life. You wish to remember your power, your light, your love, and your grace. The painful ones have exposed areas in which you forget.

Now that you know this you can say (in your mind) to those in your past:

“I see my light clearly now! You showed me where I felt impure, and yet now I know my innocence remains untainted! You showed me where I felt unworthy but now I see the lie in this belief! I deserve love! You showed me where I felt unlovable, abandoned, betrayed, and yet now I know I AM always loves me, never abandons me, and will not betray me. I will choose to focus on the ONE love that can never leave me – the love of the Divine.”

Breathe deeply, and then declare as we assist you:

“With the sheer power of my intention and will, I now command the light of the Divine to Rise Up within me and erase the illusions that I could ever be unlovable, tainted, unworthy, abandoned, imperfect, or betrayed! God I wish to feel your love for me now! Angels I wish to feel your love for me now! Right now I will to feel my worthiness, my innocence, my perfection, and my light!”

Breathe and expect to feel this love, until you do.

When your will to feel the love within you becomes strong enough, and when you are ready to breathe and allow for this, your past will be burnt away in the light of a greater truth… You ARE loved. You ARE worthy. You ARE innocent, untainted, pure. You cannot be betrayed by the Divine. You cannot be abandoned by the Divine any more than a wave can be abandoned by the ocean. You ARE precious, loved, assisted, guided, and now that you know your light, you are once again protected by the very vibration of Divinity within you.

Sit with God every day, even for just a few minutes. Demand to feel the Presence within you, with willpower and conviction. Breathe. Expect to feel loved. Focus on any feeling of love great or small and breathe as it amplified.

Dear ones, all you truly want is to feel loved and to feel loving. When others make this difficult, return to the Source of all love. Plug yourselves back into the experience of the One who will never leave you, always loves you, and will fill you with a love that is beyond human. In that space, forgiveness is no longer even an issue. You are free.

God Bless You! We love you so very much. — The Angels

Message from Ann…

Hi Everyone,

In my thirties I joke that I learned self love through a series of very unloving relationships. In one particularly difficult one, I dated a man who was deeply wounded from childhood. I never knew when he was going to explode, throw things, or cut me to shreds verbally. I was afraid it would escalate. When he finally left me because “I was too much work,” I felt very justified in my upset and anger.

I didn’t want to feel this way so I prayed, “Dear God help me forgive.” “Forgive yourself Ann,” the angels said. This bothered me. “Forgive myself for what? For being stupid. For dating him? For giving him money and help and assistance when all he did was slam me and steal from me? For being a pathetic little girl who always ran back to give more, hoping he’d learn to love?” I was so mad at myself, as I pondered this train of thoughts!

The ever-loving angels replied, “No, Ann. You weren’t stupid. Loving is never wrong. Sharing is never wrong. You simply forgot to love yourself. You allowed his behavior to show you where you felt unloved. You allows his behavior to show you where you forgot to love yourself.”

I knew they were right. I had forgotten to love myself when another didn’t. I had forgotten how to be loving as I allowed my own anger to surface.

He didn’t “make me” feel unloved. He showed me where I didn’t love myself. He didn’t “make me angry.” He showed me areas in which I didn’t love myself enough to do the right thing for myself, and thus, I became angry. He showed me unhealed areas from a childhood, in which my family had quite a lot of stress that exploded in my direction. I couldn’t even blame my parents for that. The illusions I carried in my soul from lifetimes caused me to incarnate into that situation. The soul is in charge, always.

He was simply showing me the unhealed and illusory areas in my own soul – the areas in which I’d harbored feelings of being unloved, unworthy, etc. As I learned to see it this way, the entire relationship started to feel like a gift, albeit one in a seriously unpleasant package.

It took time and effort to love myself more deeply. I started to be diligent about self care. I went to others who were able to nurture me – massage therapists, energy workers, and healers. I focused every day on the things I loved about myself. Finally, one day, deep in the forest on the side of a mountain, Mother Nature herself healed my heart.

I had hiked up beyond a trail on a mountain side, peppered with a forest of ancient juniper and cypress trees. Exhausted from the vigorous climb, I stopped to take a drink of water. There in front of me, the thick, gnarled branch of a grandmother juniper reached out like an arm welcoming to lay down in her kind embrace. I gingerly set my pack down and laid on the branch, balancing carefully on the cliffside. Immediately I was drawn into her loving energy. Warmth and love engulfed me. I burst into tears and cried my heart out, allowing the feelings of disappointment with my own choices melt into the forest floor.

I don’t know how long I lay there, but when I got up I felt loved. I felt loving. I knew that this other person was simply my teacher. I actually felt gratitude for the dance. I liked who I was. I saw my illusions that contributed towards our dance, and now I saw beyond them. I was loved. I was loving. Finally, I was free.

When someone else hurts you, it is the hardest thing in the world to take ownership of your own pain. Their actions aren’t OK. You don’t want to go back for more. You don’t have to like them. But you can say to yourself, “I just forgot I was lovable. I just forgot I was loved. I just forgot I was loving. Dear God, let the light of your love rise up within me once more and remind me who I really am.” As you feel that truth, the past really does slip away into one more adventure of the soul that strengthened you, and guided you more deeply into the truth of who you really are.

In the Presence of the Presence of God’s love, the pain of the world is quickly burnt away.

Here are a few tips to help reclaim that loving truth that lives within you…

1. Sit with Spirit to Feel the Love Within

My favorite prayer, from my heart when I am hurting is:

Dear God, let the light of your love rise up within me once more and remind me who I really am. Help me feel your Love within me, for me, and through me.”

Sit. Breathe slowly and deeply. Focus on your heart. Focus on any feeling of love for anything or anyone, and when you have found that, focus only on the feeling. This opens the door for Divine Love to pour in more deeply.

When you feel the slightest glimmer of love in your heart, keep breathing and amplify it with each breath. Imagine its fire is burning brighter.

2. Love yourself as you have not been loved

I call this taking an “antidote” for the poison. After reconnecting with Love within, you want to put that love in action in your life.

If someone has abused your mind or emotions with unkindness, tell yourself a hundred wonderful things. Write yourself a love letter from God or your angels, or yourself if you can. Write a list of every wonderful quality within.

If someone has left you, or betrayed you, don’t leave or abandon yourself. Use your will power to do things that make you happy, to sit with spirit, to watch inspirational videos or read books that remind you that you are perfect, precious, and pure.

If someone has abused your body, treat it with the utmost reverence and kindness. Tell it you love it, that it is pure, that you are sorry it was treated horribly. Give yourself massages with oil scented with something beautiful like rose or neroli. Treat your body like a temple to help it remember its perfection.

When you can truly give yourself the love another could not, you have reclaimed your greatest power of all – to simply be the real, loving, You!

2. Pray for those who hurt you

Pray, “Dear God, lift these hurting and hurtful souls into the light of your love. Remind them who they really are. Help them stop hurting others as a way to diffuse the pain within themselves.” Then imagine them encased in a bubble of light.

This is hard to do because we think praying for the hurtful ones is giving them a “free pass” to have it easy and to feel loved even when they’ve been abusive. In truth, praying like this and sending light helps to flush the darkness up and out, where they have to look at it, learn from it, and grow – if they are willing.

If they are not willing to grow, loving prayers like these can cause a vibration that reveals their darkness to others. I once prayed with friends for a very abusive neighbor of theirs. He chose not to grow. Instead the light we sent him, unbeknownst to us, catalyzed a foreclosure and he moved within months. In the meanwhile, however he ceased to harass my friends.

No matter how upset you are you’d truly rather be loving, than be unloving. Doing so will help you feel the power of the light within.

The last few newsletters have been pretty intense and deep conversations. Forgiveness of self and others isn’t easy work, but the freedom and joy that result are truly worth the effort!

Love you all! Ann

~~~~~~~~~

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psychosistr · 5 years

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Worth It Chapter 14- What He Needs

Summary: Caesar finally comes to terms with what he needs in his life.

Notes: Keeping this chapter short and sweet before the finale.

Caesar opened his eyes and sighed quietly to himself. He didn’t want to be too loud and risk waking the sleeping giant he was currently using for a pillow.

He looked down at Joseph, the larger man sleeping peacefully while sprawled out on the bed. Well, peaceful for him, that is, his snoring was obnoxiously loud…yet…Caesar found it comforting. Every night for the past few- more than days or weeks, was it months or a year by now?- however long he’d been here, Caesar had gotten used to the warm weight of Joseph’s body against his as he slept; used to the way Joseph’s strong arms curled protectively around him like they were shielding him from the world; used to the sighed calls of his name as the other slept; used to the gentle kisses and sweet “I love you”’s and “Sweet dreams~<3”’ said to him every night before bed; hell, he’d even gotten used to the obnoxiously loud snoring that rumbled through Joseph’s chest like a rattling heartbeat. Caesar was so used to it by now that he didn’t think he could sleep without it all anymore. A large part of him didn’t want to even TRY falling asleep like that…

Caesar sat up, carefully moving around Joseph’s arms so as not to wake him up. He looked down at his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful (minus the snoring) and relaxed..like everything was normal and right in his world..

Caesar moved to sit on the edge of the bed and looked down at his wrists.

One wrist was still bare, Joseph not yet having a chance to fix or replace the broken shackle. That wrist felt lighter, of course, but it also felt cold, empty, like it was missing something important.

The other wrist was shackled, currently chained to the bed with the long chain that allowed him more movement. That wrist felt heavier, but it also felt warm, comfortable, like it was being embraced and protected lovingly.

Caesar frowned and traced his fingers over the metal of his remaining wrist shackle, a habit he had picked up since the break in. He remembered that night so clearly in his mind: The terror, the righteous anger, the protective fury, the fear of losing someone he loved-

Damn it, there it was again. THAT thought. The thought that had left him confused and lost in his own mind since that night:

He loved Joseph.

Not as a close friend, not as a member of his family, not in any platonic sense. No, he thought, that would make his life too easy.

Ever since that moment when he thought Joseph was going to die and he himself had killed to protect him, Caesar had come to the realization that he truly loved Joseph. The large brit was fun, funny on occasion, caring, sweet, clever, handsome, intelligent, and made Caesar feel happier just by being with him. Every day Joseph would, without fail, shower him in love and affection, tell him he was beautiful, hold him and kiss him to almost embarrassing levels, and smile while gazing at Caesar like he was the most precious thing in the world. Joseph made Caesar feel more loved and valuable than any partner he’d ever been with before put together. For the first time in his life, Caesar felt truly, genuinely LOVED.

What was worse was how addictive that feeling was to him now: Every smile, every wink, every touch, every kiss- it all sent a small rush of euphoria crashing through him. He found himself missing Joseph when he wasn’t around, longing for those large, warm arms to wrap around him while Joseph kissed him and told him he loved him. Then, when Joseph got home and inevitably did just that, Caesar would close his eyes and bask in that warm feeling that flowed through his veins like he needed it to continue living. He never wanted to let go of that feeling, merely wanted to drown in it forever. The easiest way to do that would be to just tell Joseph that he wanted it, the brunette had made it abundantly clear that he would do ANYTHING Caesar asked him to-

Anything except let him go, the traitorous voice in the back of his mind reminded him.

Caesar clenched his fists and closed his eyes for a moment. He REALLY hated that voice now. Before, it had been like his conscience- constantly reminding him what was right and wrong about this situation to keep him from forgiving Joseph too easily. Now, though, now when all he wanted was to accept Joseph’s love and give it in turn, that voice was like a knife jabbing him in the heart- a stinging pain that would pull him out of his happy, blissful state and prevent him from finding true happiness with someone who so very clearly loved him. He wished it would just go away, that it would stop torturing him by reminding him of things like reality and consequences.

Caesar took in a deep breath to calm himself down and got up off of the bed to stretch his legs, being careful not to move too fast or let the bed dip too far and risk waking up Joseph. He walked over to the window to look at the barely risen sun’s light peeking through the trees. The chain was just long enough to allow him to get within two feet of the window, usually. As he walked closer, he stopped a few inches short and tugged his wrist, realizing the chain was snagged on something (likely the bedframe again, that happened a lot). He heaved a silent sigh and rolled his eyes at the inconvenience before giving his arm a firm pull in an attempt to dislodge the chain from whatever it was stuck on. To Caesar’s surprise, he heard a muffled metallic thud before his arm flung out in front of him from the momentum he had exerted.

Looking down at his wrist, Caesar’s eyes widened in shock to see the chain was gone. He looked back behind himself and saw the chain lying slack on the floor with a broken piece of the hook from his shackle still connected to the closest link. He turned his wrist over to look at the part that had broken off and noticed a hairline fracture along the metal. It must have happened when he blocked the gunshot before, he concluded: He had thrown both wrists in front of himself, the one in front having taken most of the blow and shattering before the bullet grazed off of his other shackle. It probably caused a break that was too small to notice and had grown slowly bigger over time before Caesar inadvertently broke it off with that pull.

‘I’m..free..’ Caesar thought as he stared at his wrists. ‘For the first time in so long, I’m actually FREE!’ He looked to the bed, confirmed that Jojo was still asleep, then quietly made his way to the bedroom door and left the room, being careful to close the door behind him. Once out in the hallway, Caesar let out a tense breath and walked forward, marveling at the feeling of moving around without that chain rattling behind him or Joseph being with him. ‘It’s..so quiet..’ He thought as he walked down the hallway towards the living room.

When he entered the living room, he stopped and looked towards the front door: Joseph still hadn’t replaced the lock. The door could be unlocked and opened from the inside now. Caesar could actually LEAVE if he wanted to!

He walked up to the door, reached for the handle, his heartbeat thumping so loudly that it was all he could hear…but…his hand stopped…

‘What am I doing?’ He thought. ‘Do I..really want to leave..?’

‘Of course I want to leave! I was kidnapped, held against my will- this is what I’ve wanted for MONTHS!’ That harsh voice he’d been trying to avoid raged at him, arguing with his consciousness.

‘It was..but..do I really have anywhere else to go..?’

‘Who cares if I have nowhere to go?! I’ll be free!’

‘Sure, I’d be free. But…I would be alone again..I’d be without Jojo…’

‘Joseph is INSANE! He’s the one who kidnapped me! He kills people! Fuck, he killed my exes!’

‘I can’t deny that he did all of that. He kidnapped me and killed my exes…but…he did all of that because he loves me so much. He loves me and all he wanted was a chance to make me happy and I didn’t give it to him…that’s my fault…besides, those bastards deserved what they got- they decided I was worth less than some damn money! They gave me away! They didn’t love me! Not like Jojo- he loves me more than anything in the world, loves me enough to spend all of that money to make sure I found someone who would make me happy, and loves me so much that he got mad enough to kill people who disrespected me like that. He never asked for thanks or did it to show off- he did it all because he LOVES me!’

‘He’s dangerous! So what if those bastards deserved it- it just proves what he’s capable of! What if he decides that he’s bored of me one day or gets mad and decides to kill me too?!’

‘Jojo would NEVER do that. He has never hurt me, no matter how much I swore at him or pushed him away. No matter how poorly I treated him, he was never anything less than gentle and kind with me. Besides, I’m not much better, am I? When I killed that man, even if it was to protect Jojo, I actually LIKED it. I enjoyed stabbing him, watching the life drain from his eyes, feeling the blood drenching my clothes and clinging to my skin. It made me feel so good..so calm..if that’s how Joseph feels when he does it, then I can understand why he would do it as a form of stress relief..’

‘Why am I trying to justify his actions?! Why would I want to stay here with someone like him?!’

“Because I love him!!” Caesar said out loud, bringing his hands up to cover his face as he finally broke down and allowed himself to say everything he’d been avoiding aloud. “I’m in love with him! I want to stay with him! I want to be with him forever! I want to stay here and feel loved and be happy with him for the rest of my life! It’s all I want! Why can’t I just accept that?!”

Like a bell, Suzi Q’s words from the other day rang in his head: “It hurts, doesn’t it? It hurts because you’re still fighting what you want. If you just give up and accept it all, you’ll feel SO much better! I know I did!” Then she had pulled down her shirt to show him the collar, looking so genuinely happy and proud of what it symbolized that it struck Caesar to his core.

Caesar brought his hands away from his face and looked down at his mismatched wrists again: One that was free and open, but felt so cold and wrong. One that was shackled and trapped, but felt safe and right. He knew looking at his hands which one felt better, so why couldn’t he see the same thing for the rest of himself?

Caesar could feel that demanding voice becoming less and less prominent in his mind, the noise becoming softer. ‘I need to go…I need to leave now or I’ll never be free…’

“……” Caesar felt that voice finally drift away as he spoke with conviction. “I KNOW what I need.”

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

-From the Beginning-

#caejose #caesar zeppeli #joseph joestar #yandere!au #serial killer!au #yandere!joseph #serial killer!joseph #worth it #finally heading towards the finish line!

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news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog · 6 years

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The world isn't ready to trust angry women. This book wants to change that.

In the women's final of the U.S. open, the world came face-to-face with the righteous rage of a woman on live television. What came next, however, proved that society and the media were more irked by Serena Williams' expression of anger and more interested in discussing her on-court decorum than interrogating the reasons behind the rage.

As a racist cartoon circulated, perpetuating the "angry black woman" trope, op-eds branded Williams' conduct as that of a "brat," "hysterical" and an "outburst," and people on Twitter opined that she behaved badly.

SEE ALSO: Sexism rears its ugly head at the U.S. Open

While the cartoon garnered a much-deserved backlash, and many people did come to Williams' defence after the final, there was a palpable message that lingered in the days immediately afterwards. The take-home message from the subsequent reaction to the incident was this: society doesn't trust angry women. Women aren't allowed to get angry. And, as for the reasons behind the anger, they don't want to hear it.

Days later, a book was published about the power of women's anger — a book about embracing female rage and harnessing it to affect "lasting personal and societal change." At this moment in history, when women's anger is at boiling point, this text could not be more timely. Or, more needed. Soraya Chemaly — author of Rage Becomes Her — tells Mashable the Serena Williams incident and its aftermath was a "very good example of the way stereotypes and the legacy of history play out everyday in people's lives."

The world proved it isn't ready to trust angry women.

Image: Tim Clayton/Corbis via Getty Images

"These incidents don't happen without context, and they don't happen without a history," says Chemaly, who's also director of the Women's Media Center Speech Project. "Serena Williams as a black woman is exquisitely aware of how carefully she has to constantly calibrate her displays of emotion in ways that most people — particularly white men — don’t necessarily think about."

What has become patently clear is the disparity in the way our culture looks upon displays of anger in men and women.

"In the United States, an angry white man is associated with justified rage often and with citizenship — like the angry patriot, the one who fights against the government," says Chemaly. "A black man can’t express himself that way. His anger is associated with criminality and a black woman’s anger is associated with danger."

If we examine the reasons behind Williams' outrage on court, and put ourselves in her position, many of us might conclude that we'd react in a similar manner.

Williams was accused of — and penalised for — coaching, and her ability and professional integrity were thus called into question. "When someone accuses you of cheating it is a rational and logical response to feel indignant and angry," says Chemaly.

The problem with 'feelings'

Our problem with accepting the validity of women's anger stems from our culture's aversion to the idea of "feelings," according to Chemaly.

"The whole idea of feelings is disparaged, and it's often disparaged, frankly, because it’s a feminine quality in our culture," she explained. "When [Williams] spoke after the tournament, she was clear, methodical, logical. We're not supposed to express feelings because feelings are 'illogical' but, in fact, they’re really logical and rational."

Serena Williams hugs Naomi Osaka as she cries at the presentations after the women's singles final.

Image: Tim Clayton/Corbis via Getty Images

"Over the course of her career, [Williams] has come to have to take this very reasoned and mature path to explaining to other people, which means, doing the work [for other people]," Chemaly continued.

Those who bore witness to the furore on social media can attest to the fact that men were not the sole critiques of Williams — women also censured her. Chemaly says that one thing she learned when she was writing the book was the quality in some people of being "inclined to justify the system."

"We see that in many women because admitting to the problems we face or the inequality that we live with is deeply threatening and scary, so people tend to systems-justify," says Chemaly. "They’ll say things like, 'well, men were punished the way Serena was punished too' or ‘she’s not being discriminated against in any way, it’s just she broke the rules.’" She describes this as a "systems-justifying response."

In the book, Chemaly urges people to consider their responses and ask themselves if they are systems-justifying, a response which stems from internalised misogyny. "Trust other women," she says. "We have to unlearn distrust of women and we have to unlearn the distrust of feminine qualities in our culture.

"If another woman is getting angry, rather than castigate her by a knee-jerk response, pause for a minute and think about what is leading you to do that," says Chemaly. "Why are you unwilling to consider what she’s saying? And to respect the fact that in her anger she is actually expressing knowledge?"

There's a section in Chemaly's book entitled "Trust Other Women," which tackles precisely this issue, which doesn't just impact the way people regard the anger of high-profile women like Williams, but also the women we encounter in everyday life. "When a friend tells you she is angry, do you ask why and listen? If you see a woman 'losing her shit', do you make fun of her? If a girl is 'moody,' do you ask her not about what's wrong with her but about what's happening around her?" Chemaly queries in the book.

Acknowledging the validity of women's anger doesn't need to come hand in hand with turning a blind eye to objectively bad behaviour. "That doesn't mean blind denial of egregious behaviour or ignoring the ways in which another woman might be hurtful or hateful," writes Chemaly. Recognising those distinctions allows us to demarcate righteous anger from unjustifiable bad behaviour.

Dealing with rage in the workplace

In Rage Becomes Her, Chemaly lays out a framework for angry women outlining how to channel their rage as a productive force for change. Chemaly says women's "status in the world" means that it does "require us to do more work" and women have to strategise and be "methodical" about their anger.

"If you find yourself — and I think we all have — in a situation at work where you’re being castigated for your feelings or you’re being discouraged from expressing anger, it actually takes work to determine what to do about that. And then to change it," she says.

The articulation of personal anger at work comes with a risk — one that can be mitigated by finding allies to advocate for us, and seeking out other people who're feeling the very same way. "We need to find ways to identify allies because we can’t always advocate for ourselves. We understand from social science studies and research that actually advocating for yourself creates a backlash effect very often and that you’re penalised for doing this," says Chemaly.

By saying 'this is a problem for me, but it’s actually also a problem for all of these other people and that means we have a workplace issue' then this personal anger is turned into a community that's mobilised to improve the workplace.

The "extreme alternative" to this step is, according to Chemaly, that there are places where "nothing you do is going to change things." In which case, she says, "the anger you have can be channelled into having a new job."

Call out stereotypes

If we are to affect change with our anger, we also need to change the way people interpret anger. Chemaly says that talking to children "honestly and openly" about the stereotypes that surround angry women is an important way of doing this. "I personally think that a lot of children and teenagers are much better versed in understanding what’s going on and they need to mentor up," says Chemaly. "They live in much more diverse classrooms and i think they’re having harder conversations than many of the adults they know."

As adults, we too play a part in shutting down these tropes. "Call out stereotypes about 'angry black women,' 'fiery Latinas,' and 'sad Asian girls,'" writes Chemaly in her book.

Paying close attention to the language we use when talking about people's anger is a necessary step in validating women's anger, too. "If it’s a word you would never use with, for example, Serena’s male counterpart, it’s probably really gendered," says Chemaly. "So, she’s a witch, she’s a bitch, she’s deranged, she’s hysterical, she’s emotional, she’s unhinged." By contrast, Chemaly says Williams' male counterparts have been described as "high energy, charismatic, passionate about winning" which really illuminates the double standard at play.

Image: rachel thompson

Chemaly believes anger has the power to fuel "community and joy and action," and we need to move past the perception that anger is a bad thing. "We grow up hearing so much that anger is negative and destructive, but in fact it’s the lack of acknowledgement of anger that results in poor outcomes," she says.

As a society, we need to address the way we view and talk about women when they're expressing their rage. As women, we should believe and trust women who articulate anger.

"We need to learn resistance to a fundamental lesson of misogyny: that other women are untrustworthy and deficient and that, in anger, they are dangerous," says Chemaly.

'Rage Becomes Her' is available in the U.S. from Sept. 11 and in the UK from Sept. 20

WATCH: Tennis has an equality problem. What happened with Serena Williams is a fraction of what that feels like.

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shioritsumi · 6 years

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Okay, so, by the by, I actually have a whole set of next-gen characters for the TMNT 2012, as aligned with the TMNT 2090 thing.

Jackson- Michaelangelo’s adopted son, human, pilot of the Leonardo mech, erstwhile leader of the Teenage Mecha Ninja Turtles. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, straight-laced, and trying his best. Has a robot leg, and sometimes he thinks that’s cool. Sometimes he has ghost pains and wishes he had a real leg still. It’s hard being a teenager literally missing a limb sometimes.

Jun- Son of Donatello and April, lead detective of Mutanimal Crime division. Can seem rough, strict, and dismissive, but has a far kinder heart than he lets on. Very tsundere? Insults your bad decisions, but will never fail to pick you up and patch you up and tell you that you did a good job anyways. Mostly human-looking, with minor psychic abilities.

Akira- Son of Leonardo and Karai, currently AWOL and on the run, having made CATASTROPHICALLY bad decisions in the past that practically started an all out mutanimal-human war. He’s impulsive and easily led astray by emotional-based arguments, and fancies himself a leader of sorts, but is prone to poorly-thought out decisions. Thinks with his heart, not his head. That said, he’s sensitive to the feelings of others, and has intense empath abilities. Primarily human in appearance, with skin mutations and eyes.

Kamaitachi- Adopted daughter/student of Raphael. Weasel mutanimal, originally raised by her clan as a human to be an assassin who just so happened to have a taste for ordinary child-like obsessions. Her new sensei allowed her to keep both her hobbies and her combat skills. Bright, energetic, values exercise and fighting alongside dancing, donuts, and cats. More impulsive in her words than in her actions. First to throw shade, last to throw shuriken.

Relationships to each other:

Jackson to Jun: He ends up dealing with the detective a lot, due to his unofficial job as vigilante mech pilot. But he knows he can always count on Jun to have his back if it’s official. Worries sometimes that because they’re not blood-related, Jun will eventually abandon him, or that he only helps because Michelangelo told him to. But Jun can always calm him down when he has those thoughts.

Jackson to Akira: They don’t know each other very well, but they get along alright enough when they do interact. He finds Akira impulsive, but sympathizes with the man’s earnest desire to protect the mutanimals. He just thinks there should be less violence in his revolution.

Jackson to Kamaitachi: The two are like siblings. They get along really well, and sympathize and bond over their father/senseis. However, he’s deeply hurt to know just how much anger she holds over what happened with Akira. He wishes she could be the bright person he met, all the time, but she holds her grudge deep in her heart, deeper than he can dig and he can’t help her. Knowing that makes him feel.....helpless.

Jun to Jackson: He loves the kid, he really does. He does maintanance on the kid’s prosthetic leg, and acceptance and love. It’s like he’s Jackson’s big brother. Sometimes he feels like Jackson is the only real family he has left, aside from Michelangelo.

Jun to Akira: Jun doesn’t hate Akira, but he IS pissed at him. He understands Akira acted pre-emptively to what he thought was going to be a serious threat, what he THOUGHT would hurt hundreds, even thousands. He doesn’t understand why it had to be so violent, or why Akira had to get their parents involved. Why Akira’s actions had to cost everyone. He WILL punch the guy in the face, but not because he hates him with all his being.

Jun to Kamaitachi: .....? He’s honestly not sure where he stands on the ninja weasel girl. Raphael picked her up a while back, and they were just starting to get really close before the incident with Akira. And now Jun sees incredible anger in the girl, anger that feels familiar to his own. He tries his best to calm her, but she won’t listen most of the time.

Kamaitachi to Jun: He’s The Man. He’s the detective in charge of herding and curtailing her kind, and she’s a little wary of him, regardless of the situation. She’s been introduced to him before, she’s been told he’s her cousin, but she can’t let go of the fact that he’s a cop. That he’s the guy who’s called in to deal with her kind.

Kamaitachi to Jackson: Her BEST FRIEND. If only he’d try to understand her anger, her righteous fury. He knows fury against people, or against groups...or he should. Mutanimals killed his family, yet he doesn’t try to get revenge? At all? Kid must be a saint of some kind; she wishes she could be like that.

Kamaitachi to Akira: If you let her, she will try to kill him. He’s the reason she lost her sensei. He’s the reason she lost her home, her security, and for what? A threat that never even really existed in the first place. She understands he THOUGHT it was real, but doesn’t feel that justifies his actions.

Akira to Jackson: This kid is adorable. He’s just like he always imagined a human Leo might be. He wishes he could be a little more like the kid sometimes, or that he could make Jackson understand his perspective. Or that they could get along better.

Akira to Jun: They used to be best friends, and god knows he loves his cousin. But some things are more important than family. And he hates the way that Jun won’t see that he did what he felt was necessary, he did what he did to protect people. Innocent Mutanimals who might have been slaughtered otherwise! If the threat had been real, how many might have perished while the rest of the city did nothing? Maybe he was wrong, but at least he took up the fight when it seemed real. He hates that Jun won’t see this, and won’t allow them to reconcile. It feels like he lost something...big.

Akira to Kamaitachi: She’s mad at him. No, she hates him. She DESPISES him, and he can’t for the life of him bring himself to blame her. He knows he made a mistake, but she’s a Mutanimal, too-can’t she see that what he did was all for the sake of her kind? If he hadn’t, she and everyone like her could have died. Her clan of ninja live because of him. Many of them even follow him. Why can’t she? Why can’t she understand? They could be such good friends if she just tried to see things from his perspective.

SOO....I’ll get some other stuff up later, prolly. But here’s some general stuff on them.

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