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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

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v. equitable exchange ✤ pre-cult au

john/elliot + “ew, that is so sappy i might vomit” taken from this prompt list!

word count: 2k

warnings: john being himself. elliot’s mother is terror. otherwise, they’re just being cute and enjoying each other. also naughty language, of course!

“It’s incredible how relaxed you get,” John remarked, sitting across from her, “as soon as you get out of Hope County.”

Elliot blinked at him. They’d only been dating for six months, but in that short time, John had proven he was more perceptive than she might have given him credit for. Sure, he was a little dense (read: selfish), but he was exceptionally good at reading her, which was rapidly becoming a problem.

That was to say—Elliot did not like being so easily read. Especially not at a dinner table in a fancy restaurant, after not having seen John for two weeks because work had gotten so busy she’d thought about pretending to be dead to get a few days of rest, and then resurrect herself Christ-like to get back on payroll.

“It’s not Hope County,” she explained after a moment. She opened her mouth to say, it’s my mom, she’s fucking bananas and will not stop harassing me about dating some nice boy that one of her ex-debutante frenemies mentions on the phone every day, but that felt like a lot to say all in one go, and a lot to say to John Seed, so she didn’t. “It’s just—stuff.”

“Ah, the ever-enigmatic and elusive stuff,” John reiterated, snagging her hand and bringing her fingers up to his mouth to kiss. “Turn that brain of yours off for a few minutes, won’t you? If you’re not going to elaborate on what it is that’s bothering you.”

“Sure,” Elliot replied dryly, “let me just find the switch here and…”

As she was busying herself mock-searching for the non-existent flip that would shut her brain down—and wouldn’t that be nice, to be fucking brain dead for a moment?—her eyes traveled the length of the room and stopped short on a tall, lean blonde laughing with a few other women as they walked into the restaurant.

Their eyes locked. The woman said, “Elli?” and in an act of self-preservation, Elliot scooted her chair out from the table abruptly and came to a stand, as though to sprint away.

“Ell?” John asked as she ripped her hand away from him.

“Uh,” she said. She then failed to elaborate.

“Elli, is that you?” her mother called, more fervently now, that sugar-sweet Southern drawl ringing around in her head as the alarm systems went off. Oh no, she thought frantically, trying to think of quick ways out—bust a glass open and just end it, maybe, pretend like she had amnesia, or literally anything—oh no, oh fuck no, oh God, fuck, I can’t do this, not right now, I’m not prepared.

“We have to go,” she blurted out. “John? Earth to John? Code red, we’re leaving.”

“But I just opened the wine—”

“Elli, that is you!”

Bless his heart, John continued curiously, “Who is that?” when he noticed the woman, and Elliot stifled a moan of agony.

“That’s stuff,” she hissed, grabbing his hand, “please, can we go—”

All of her fight-or-flight had kicked in, which was ridiculous if someone were to look at the situation objectively—that she was having this kind of a reaction, but if anyone knew anything about Scarlet Honeysett it was that—

“Go where?” her mother asked, now standing directly in the nearly-perfect geographical center between Elliot and John, on the other side, and it was painful to experience. Scarlet looked, per usual, absolutely polished; meticulously-maintained golden hair perfectly curled, her blouse and skirt pressed and prim.

“Nowhere,” Elliot managed out. “I’m—nowhere, mama. Just—” She scrambled. “Just thought I saw a… Spider on the table.”

“Ah,” Scarlet replied, and she didn’t sound convinced. A long moment stretched where she was aware of her mother waiting for her to introduce John and John waiting for her to introduce him, when finally her mother said, “Well, who’s your little friend, honey?”

Little friend. Like they hadn’t been dating for six months (not that she knew), like she didn’t let John fuck her filthy every time they visited each other. Elliot felt a dizzying surge of anxiety shoot through her body and tried to push it down.

“He’s m-my—John,” she said, and immediately kicked herself. Dropping his hand unceremoniously, she added, “My… boyf-uuh… boyf-f-”

“… boyfriend,” John finished for her, like she hadn’t just gone fucking stupid in the last five minutes for some reason. He gave her a funny, questioning look before he turned his full charm on and reached his hand out to Scarlet. “John Seed. It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Honeysett, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you.”

Scarlet shook his hand. Her gaze flickered down, and before John could retreat, she turned their gripped hands so that the top of his was facing up, inspecting it critically. Her eyes turned back to Elliot.

“He has tattoos,” she said and did not ask, in the kind of forced friendliness she used when she was talking to one of the aforementioned ex-debutante frenemies that liked to gossip about her.

“Yes,” said John, which was really all he could say.

“It wasn’t a question, darlin’,” Scarlet murmured idly.

“Mama,” Elliot began, “we should—um, can we—it’s just—”

“Elliot Savannah!” came an additional voice, and oh, she just wanted to shrink up and disappear when the flowery rose-perfume scent washed over her. The shock of bright auburn hair immediately came into her vision and warm arms were thrown around her neck. “I was wonderin’ if we were ever gonna see you again. Aw, honey, look at your red little cheeks.”

“Delia,” Elliot greeted, feeling faint. She returned the hug but could not ignore the way that John stood to the side. She was sure that he wasn’t accustomed to not immediately charming the pants off of anyone, and certainly, it was partially her fault they were now in this situation—after all, she hadn’t prepared him at all for what her mother was like. “It’s—so nice to see you again.”

“So nice to see you, my sweet girl,” Delia replied warmly. It was not lost on her that her mother’s one true friend was the first to reach and hug her, not her own mother. “And your very handsome man-friend, too.”

Delia swept away from Elliot to rescue John, who looked almost relieved to be admired and chatted to rather than glanced over with the sort of critical eye that Scarlet afforded to just about everything and everyone that came across her path. Delia’s apparent rescue of John left Elliot to shift under her mother’s gaze.

“Bunny,” Scarlet said, keeping her voice very mild, “have you been cutting your hair short?”

“Mama,” she sighed.

“I just think you look so pretty when it’s long. You know, your daddy never knew what to do with all that hair, but he learned to braid it just for—”

“We’re in the middle of dinner,” Elliot interrupted before her mother could wax poetic about the things that her father did well prior to his clinical and methodical abandonment of them. “And I haven’t seen John for a few weeks, so.”

So. The word hung between them, the sound of Delia fawning over John and feeding him all of the admiration and older-woman-flirtation he could probably want, and Scarlet waited. She didn’t speak; she was exceptionally good at this kind of little game, which they had always played, where Elliot would say something like so with the implication that Scarlet should be able to infer what she meant and her mother would refuse to.

“… just love our Elliot,” Delia gushed warmly. “You’re taking good care of her, aren’t you?”

“Oh, the very best,” John assured her. “It’s been—”

“Six months,” Elliot supplied.

Scarlet arched a brow upward. “That’s a long time to be seeing someone.” She glanced at John. “And so alternative, too.”

“Mother.”

“I only mean,” Scarlet continued, “that I wish you would have said something. I’ve been chatting with Blaire and her son is very interested in meeting you. It just feels rude to take it back, is all, and if you answered my phone calls—”

“I’m busy with work,” Elliot protested.

“But not busy enough to date someone secretly for a few months,” her mother shot back with all of the practiced politeness of a woman who made a living out of it.

John cleared his throat. “Six months.”

Elliot passed a hand over her face, exhaling sharply through her nose as she muddled through the anxiety and fury that her mother tended to inspire in her. A moment of silence stretched, too long and far too uncomfortable, before Delia clapped her hands together and made a soft sound.

“Well, I am just starvin’!” she exclaimed. “Scarlet, honey, you ready to eat?”

“I haven’t any kind of appetite,” Scarlet responded spitefully, and Elliot groaned and said, “You are so petty,” just as her mother plunged on, “but I suppose I’m ready to go.”

“Great,” Delia said, feigning cheerfulness. “Elliot, you’ll come and find us before you leave, won’t you? We’ll let you get back to dinner with your honey, and we’ll be waitin’ for you.”

As Delia steered her mother away and back to where the gaggle of ladies were standing around and watching the interaction from a safe distance, John sat himself back down at the table and poured his glass full of wine—far beyond what was normally considered a regular pour—and then did the same for her glass.

Elliot sat too and brought the glass to her mouth. Even though her mother’s presence inspired in her the most homicidal tendencies, so much so that she tried to avoid drinking at all around her, it felt necessary at this moment.

“That can’t be your mom,” John said conversationally. “She’s so tall.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Bunny?”

Elliot moaned, burying her face into her hands. It was the worst possible series of events that could happen: there was nothing in her that had prepared in the least to have to explain herself to her mother, and so of course the thing that she had done was not explain anything, because Scarlet Honeysett could not resist taking a dig at her daughter at any point in time.

“Hey,” John said lowly, scooting his chair over so that they were no longer on opposite ends of the table but rather perpendicular from one another, “drink your wine, we’ll lock the door on their insanely pretentious bathroom-with-a-couch, I’ll get you nice and relaxed, and then you’ll be ready to deal with your mom again.”

“You don’t get it,” Elliot protested, even when John’s words made heat crawl up into her cheeks

“I don’t really need to,” John replied flippantly. “Who gives a fuck if your mom doesn’t like me?”

“I do!” she insisted, distressed. “I care, and I had a very specific way that I wanted you to meet her, and she’s—God, she’s so—she always ruins fucking everything, John, you don’t get it.”

John leaned in, tilting her chin up, and kissed her. When he did, he tasted like red wine; his fingers slid to the back of her neck and cradled her there so that he could say against her mouth, “I’m not worried about it, hellcat.”

“I am.”

“Well, stop,” he replied amusedly. “You’re my girl, and regardless of your—very tall and honestly, statuesque—mother’s opinion of me right now—”

She sighed. “John.”

“—I will make sure that she likes me,” he finished. “I will charm her so fucking hard she’ll be begging you to marry me.”

Elliot made a low, tired sound. After a second, she said, “You’ll have to go to galas. And gatherings. Weddings. There are always so many weddings. Not to mention the charity functions, and—”

John hummed. “I will. Every single event that she invites me to. Maybe even a few she doesn’t, you know, just for fun.” He paused, and kissed her again. “All for you, baby. Anything for you. Even suffering through debutante events.” And then, playfully: “Bunny.”

“Ew,” the blonde groaned, suffering through the saccharine. “That is so sappy, I might vomit.”

“Please don’t,” he said, “I’m really enjoying kissing you.”

Elliot smiled against his mouth. “Okay,” she murmured, “but only if you don’t ever fucking call me bunny again.”

“Fair trade.”

#cleaning house repost #i need to get this its own post!#my writing #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #john seed/female deputy #no cult au #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: scarlet honeysett #ch: john seed #fc5 fic #far cry 5 #q

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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Anonymous asked: I really enjoyed your book review of Sebastian Junger’s Homecoming. Perhaps enjoyment isn’t the right word because it brought home some hard truths. Your book review really helped me understand my older brother better when I think back on how he came home from the war in Afghanistan after serving with the Paras and had medals pinned up the yin yang. It was hard on everyone in the family, especially for him and his wife and young kids. He has found it hard going. Thanks for sharing your own thoughts as a combat veteran from that war. Even if you’re a toff you don’t come across as a typical Oxbridge poncey Rupert! As you’re a classicist and historian how did ancient soldiers deal with PTSD? Did the Greeks and Roman soldiers even suffer from it like our fighting boys and girls do? Is PTSD just a modern thing?

Part 1 of 2 (see following post)

Because this is subject very close to my heart as a combat veteran I thought very long and hard about the issues you raised. I decided to answer this question in two posts.

This is Part 1 and Part 2 is the next post.

My apologies for the length but this is subject that deserves full careful consideration.

Thank you for your lovely words and I especially find its heart warming if they touched you. I appreciate you for sharing something of the experience your ex-Para brother went through in coming home from war. I have every respect for the Parachute regiment as one of the world’s premier fighting force.

Working alongside them on missions out in Afghanistan I could see their reputation as the ‘brain shit’ of the British Army was well deserved. They’re most uncouth, sweary, and smelliest group of yobbos I’ve ever had the awful misfortune to meet. I’m kidding. The mutual respect and the ribbing went hand in hand. I doff my smurf hat to the cherry berries as ‘propah soldiers’ as they liked to say especially when they cast a glance over at the other elite regiments like HCav and the guards regiments.

Don’t worry I’ve been called a lot worse! But I am grateful you don’t lump me with the other ‘poncey’ officers. Not sure what a female Rupert is called. The fact that I was never accused of being one by any of those I served with is perhaps something I take some measure of pride. There are not as many real toff officers these days compared to the past but there are a fair few Ruperts who are clueless in leading men under their charge. I knew one or two and frankly I’m embarrassed for them and the men under their charge.

I don’t know when the term PTSD was first used in any official way. My older sister who is a doctor - specialising in neurology and all round brain box and is currently working on the front lines in the NHS wards fighting Covid alongside all our amazing NHS nurses and doctors - took time out one evening to have a discussion with me about these issues. I also talked to one or two other friends in the psychiatric field too. In consensus they agree it was around 1980 when the term PTSD came into usage. Specifically it was the third edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-lll) published by the American Psychiatric Association in 1980 partly because as a result of the ongoing treatment of veterans from the Vietnam War. In the modern mind, PTSD is more associated with the legacy of the Vietnam War disaster.

The importance of whether PTSD affected the ancient Greeks and Romans lies in the larger historical question of to what extent we can apply modern experience to unlock or interpret the past. In the period since PTSD was officially recognised, scholars and psychologists have noted its symptoms in descriptions of the veterans of past conflicts. It has become increasingly common in books and novels as well as articles to assume the direct relevance of present-day psychology to the reactions of those who experienced violent events in the historical past. In popular culture, especially television and film dramas, claims for the historical pedigree of PTSD are now often provided as background to the modern story, without attribution. Indeed we just take it as a given that soldier-warriors in the past suffered the same and in the same way as their modern day counterparts. We are used to the West to map the classical world upon the present but whether we can so easily map the modern world back upon the Greeks and Romans is a doubtful proposition when it comes to discussing PTSD.

Simply put, there is no definitive evidence for the existence of PTSD in the ancient world existed, and relies instead upon the assumption that either the Greeks or Romans, because they were exposed to combat so often, must have suffered psychological trauma.

There are two schools of thought regarding the possibility of PTSD featuring in the Greco-Roman world (and indeed the wider ancient world stretching back into pre-history, myth and legend) – universalism and relativism. Put simply, the universalists argue that we all carry the same ‘wetware’ in our heads, since the human brain probably hasn’t developed in evolutionary terms in the eye blink that is the two thousand years or so since the Greco-Roman Classical era. If we’re subject to PTSD now, they posit, then the Greeks and the Romans must have been equally vulnerable. The relativists, on the other hand, argue that the circumstances under which the individual has received their life conditioning – the experiences which programme the highly individual software running that identical ‘wetware’, if you will – is of critical importance to an individual’s capacity to absorb the undoubted horrors of any battlefield, ancient or modern.

Whichever school one falls down on the side of is that what seems to happen in any serious discussion of the issue of PTSD in the ancient world is to either infer it indirectly from culture (primarily, literature and poetry) or infer it from a comparative historical understanding of ancient warfare. Because the direct evidence is so scant we can only ever infer or deduce but can never be certain. So we can read into it whenever we wish.

In Greek antiquity we have of course The Illiad and the Odyssey as one of the most cited examples when we look at the character traits of both Achilles and Odysseus. From Greek tragedy those who think PTSD can be inferred often point to Sophocles’s Ajax and Euripide’s Heracles. Or they look to Aeschylus and The Oresteia. I personally think this is an over stretch. Greek writers do; the return from war was a revisited theme in tragedy and is the subject of the Odyssey and the Cyclic Nostoi.

The Greeks didn’t leave us much to ponder further. But, with rare exceptions, the works from Graeco-Roman antiquity do not discuss the mental state of those who had fought. There is silence about the interior world of the fighting man at war’s end. So we are led to ponder the question why the silence?

This silence also echoes into the Roman period of literature and history too. Indeed when we turn to the Roman world, descriptions of veterans are rare in the writings that survive from the Roman world and occur most often in fiction.

In the first poem of Ovid’s Heroides, the poet writes about a returned soldier tracing a map upon a table (Ov. Her. 1.31–5):

...upon the tabletop that has been set someone shows the fierce battles, and paints all Troy with a slender line of pure wine: ‘Here the Simois flowed; this is the Sigeian territory, here stood the lofty palace of old Priam, there the tent of Achilles...’

This scene provides an intimate glimpse of what it must have been like when a veteran returned home and told stories of his campaigns: the memories of battle brought to the meal, the crimson trail of the wine offering a rough outline of the places and battlefields he had experienced. The military characters in poems and plays show a world in which soldiers are ubiquitous, if somewhat annoying to the civilians. Plautus, for instance, in his Miles Gloriosus, portrays an officer boasting about his made-up conquests – the model for the braggart in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum – and Juvenal complains about a centurion who stomps on his sandalled foot in the bustling Roman street.

Despite this silence, compelling works have been written that interweave vivid modern accounts of combat and its aftermath with quotes from ancient prose and poetry. At their best, these comparisons can illuminate both worlds, but at other times the concerns of the present-day author are imposed on the ancient material. But the question remains are such approaches truthful and valid in understanding PTSD in the ancient world?

So if arts and literature don’t really tell us much what about comparative examples drawn from military history itself?

Here again we are in left disappointed.

According to the Greek historian, Herodotus, in 480 B.C., at the Battle of Thermopylae, where King Leonidas and 300 Spartans took on Xerxes I and 100,000-150,000 Persian troops, two of the Spartan soldiers, Aristodemos and another named Eurytos, reported that they were suffering from an “acute inflammation of the eyes,”...Labeled tresantes, meaning “trembler,”. It is that Aristodemos later hung himself in shame. Another Spartan commander was forced to dismiss several of his troops in the Battle of Thermopylae Pass in 480 B.C, “They had no heart for the fight and were unwilling to take their share of the danger.”

Herodotus again in writing about the battle of Marathon in 490 B.C., cites an Athenian warrior who went permanently blind when the soldier standing next to him was killed, although the blinded soldier “was wounded in no part of his body.” Interestingly enough, blindness, deafness, and paralysis, among other conditions, are common forms of “conversion reactions” experienced and well-documented among soldiers today

Outside the fictional world, Roman military history tell us very little.

Appian of Alexandria (c. 95? – c. AD 165) described a legion veteran called Cestius Macedonicus who, when his town was under threat of capture by (the Emperor-to-be) Octavian, set fire to his house and burned himself within it. Plutarch’s Life of Marius speaks of Caius Marius’ behaviour who, when he found himself under severe stress towards the end of his life, suffering from night terrors, harassing dreams, excessive drinking and flashbacks to previous battles. These examples are just a few instances which seem to demonstrate that PTSD, or culturally similar phenomena, may be as old as warfare itself. But it’s worth stressing it is not definitive, just conjecture.

Of course of accounts of wars and battles were copiously written but not the hard bloody experience of the soldier. Indeed the Roman military man is described almost exclusively as a commander or in battle. Men such as Caesar who experienced war and wrote about it do not to tell us about homecoming.

It seems one of main challenges when we try to see military history through the lens of our definition of PTSD is to first understand the comparative nature of military history and what it is we are comparing ie mistaking apples for oranges.

The origin of military history was tied to the idea that if one understood ancient battle, one might fight and, more importantly, one might lead and strategise more effectively. In essence, much of the training of officers – even in the military handbooks of the Greeks and Romans – was an attempt to keep new commanders from making the same mistakes as the commanders of old. Military history is intended to be a pragmatic enterprise; in pursuit of this pragmatic goal, it has long been the norm to use comparative materials to understand the nature of ancient battle.

The 19th Century French military theorist Ardant du Picq argued for the continuity of human behaviour and assumed that the reactions of men under the threat of lethal force would be identical over the centuries: “Man does not enter battle to fight, but for victory. He does everything that he can to avoid the first and obtain the second....Now, man has a horror of death. In the bravest, a great sense of duty, which they alone are capable of understanding and living up to, is paramount. But the mass always cowers at sight of the phantom, death. Discipline is for the purpose of dominating that horror by a still greater horror, that of punishment or disgrace. But there always comes an instant when natural horror gets an upper hand over discipline, and the fighter flees”

These words offer insight to those of us who have never faced the terror of battle but at the same time assume the universality of how combat is experienced, despite changes in psychological expectations and weaponry, to name but two variables.

Another incentive for scholars and researchers is to turn to comparative material has been the growing awareness of the artificiality of how we describe war. A mere phrase such as ‘flank attack’ does not capture the bloody, grinding human struggle. Roman authors – especially those who had not fought – often wrote generic descriptions of battle. Literary battle can distort and simplify even as it tells, but if the main things are right – who won, who lost, and who the good guys are – the important ‘facts’ are covered. Even if one intends to speak the truth about battle, the assumptions and the normative language used to describe violence will affect the telling. We may note that the battle accounts in poetry become increasingly grisly during the course of the Roman Empire (perhaps owing to the growing popularity of gladiatorial games),while, in Caesar’s Gallic War, the Latin word cruor (blood) never appears and sanguis (another Latin word for blood) only appears in quoted appeals (Caes. B. Gall. 7.20, in the mouth of Vercingetorix, and 7.50, where the centurion M. Petronius urges his men to retreat). The realities of the battlefield are described in anodyne shorthand. In much the same way that the news rarely prints or televises graphic images, Caesar does not use gore, and perhaps for the same reason – to give a sense of reportorial objectivity.

Another element in the interpretive scrum is a given author’s goal in writing an account in the first place: Caesar, for example, was writing about himself, and he may have been producing something akin to a political campaign ad. Caesar makes Caesar look great and there is reason to believe that, if he was not precisely cooking the books, he did give them a little rinse to make him look more pristine. Given the many factors that complicate our ability to ‘unpack’ battle narratives, Philip Sabin has argued that the ambiguity and unreliability of the ancient sources must be supplemented by looking at the “form of the overall characteristics of Roman infantry in mortal combat”. Again the modern is used to illuminate that which is obscured by written accounts and the “the enduring psychological strains” are merely unconsciously assumed.

These legitimate uses of comparative materials have led to a sort of creep: because military historians have used observations of how men react to combat stress during battle to indicate continuity of behaviour through time, there appears to be a consequent expectation that men will also react identically after battle. This creep became a lusty stride with modern books written about the ancient world and PTSD.

After I finished my tour in Afghanistan I read many books recommended to me by family and friends as well as comrades. One of these books is well known in military circles - at least amongst the thinking officer class - as an iconic work of marrying the ancient world and the modern experience of war. I read it and I was touched deeply by this brilliant therapeutic book. It was only months later I began to re-think whether it was a true account of PTSD in the ancient world.

This insightful book is called Achilles in Vietnam by Jonathan Shay. Shay is psychiatrist in Boston, USA. He began reading The Iliad with Vietnam veterans whom he was treating. Achilles in Vietnam, is a deeply humane work and is very much concerned with promoting policies that he hoped would help diminish the frequency of post-traumatic stress. His goal was not to explain ancient poetry but to use it therapeutically by linking his patients’ pain to that of the Iliad’s great hero. His book offers a conduit between the reader and the experiences of the men that Shay counsels. In the introduction to this work he makes a nod to Homerists while also asserting the primacy of his own reading:

“I shall present the Iliad as the tragedy of Achilles. I will not glorify Vietnam combat veterans by linking them to a prestigious ‘classic’ nor attempt to justify study of the Iliad by making it sexy, exciting, modern or ‘relevant’. I respect the work of classical scholars and could not have done my work without them. Homer’s poem does not mean whatever I want it to mean. However, having honored the boundaries of meaning that scholars have pointed out, I can confidently tell you that my reading of the Iliad as an account of men in war is not a ‘meditation’ that is only tenuously rooted in the text. “

After outlining the major plot points around which he will organise his argument, he notes, “ ‘This is the story of Achilles in the Iliad, not some metaphorical translation of it”.

The trouble was and continues to be is that many in the historical and medical fields began to rush to unfounded conclusions that Shay, on the issue of PTSD in the ancient world, had demonstrated that the psychological realities of western warfare were universal and enduring. More books on similar comparative themes soon emerged and began to enshrine the truth that PTSD was indeed prevalent throughout the ancient world and one could draw comparative lessons from it.

Perhaps one of the most influential books after Shay was by Lawrence Tritle. Tritle, a veteran himself, wrote From Melos to My Lai. It’s a fascinating book to read and there are parts that certainly resonate with my own experiences and those of others I have known. In the book Tritle drew a direct parallel between the experiences of the ancient Greeks and those of modern veterans. For instance, Xenophon, in his military autobiography, presents a brief eulogy for one of his fallen commanders, Clearchus. Xenophon writes that Clearchus was ‘polemikos kai philopolemos eschatos’ (Xen. An. 2.6) – ‘warlike and a lover of war to the highest degree’.

Tritle comments:

“The question that arises is why men like Clearchus and his counterparts in Vietnam and the Western Front became so entranced with violence. The answer is to be found in the natural ‘high’ that violence induces in those exposed to it, and in the PTSD that follows this exposure. Such a modern interpretation in Clearchus’ case might seem forced, but there seems little reason to doubt that Xenophon in fact provides us with the first known historical case of PTSD in the western literary tradition.”

Arguably in the West and especially our current modern Western culture is predicated at baulking at the notion of being ‘war lovers” as immoral. But such an interpretation speaks more of our modern Christianised ambivalence towards war; to the Spartans and Athenians the term would not have had a negative connotation. ‘Philopolemos’ is, in fact, a compliment, and the list of Clearchus’ military exploits functions as a eulogy. There are points where his analysis does not adequately address the divergences between ancient and modern experiences.

For all the talk of our Western culture being rooted in Ancient Greece and Rome we are not shaped by the same ethics. Our modern ethics and our moral code is Christian. There is no such thing as a secular humanist or atheist both owe a debt to Christianity for the way they have come to be; in many respects it’s more accurate to describe such people as Christianised Humanists or Christian Atheists even if they reject the theological tenets of the religious faith because they use Christian morality as the foundation to construct their own. Many forget just how brutal these ancient societies were in every day life to the point there would be little one could find recognisable within our own modern lives.

Now we come to third point I wish to make in determining where the Greeks or Romans actually experienced PTSD. This is to do with the little understood nature of PTSD itself. As much as we know about PTSD there is still much more we don’t know. Indeed one of the most problematic and complicated issues is the continued disagreement around the diagnosis and specific triggers of the disorder which remain little understood. We have to admit there are competing theories about what causes PTSD but, in terms of experiences that make it manifest, there are essentially three possible triggers: witnessing horrific events and/or being in mortal danger and/or the act of killing – especially close kills where the reality of one’s responsibility cannot be doubted. The last of these was strongly argued in another scholarly book by D. Grossman, On Killing, the Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society (1995).

Roman soldiers had the potential to experience all of these things. The majority of Roman combat was close combat and permitted no doubt as to the killer. The comparatively short length of the gladius encouraged aggressive fighting. Caesar recounts how his men, facing a shield wall carried by the taller Gauls, leaped up on top of the shields, grabbed the upper edges with one hand, and stabbed downwards into the faces of their opponents (Caes. B. Gall. 1.52). As for mortal danger, Stefan Chrissanthos in his informative book, Warfare in the Ancient World: From the Rise of Uruk to the Fall of Rome, 3500BC-476AD, puts it this way: “For Roman soldiers, though the weapons were more primitive, the terrors and risks of combat were just as real. They had to face javelins, stones, spears, arrows, swords, cavalry charges, and maybe worst of all, the threat of being trampled by war elephants.”

Such terrors are regularly attested. During his campaign in North Africa, Caesar, noting his men’s fear, procured a number of elephants to familiarise his troops with how best to kill the beasts (Caes. B. Afr.72). It should also be noted that it was not unusual for the reserve line to be made up of veterans because they were better able to watch the combat without losing their nerve. Held in reserve, they had to watch stoically as their comrades were injured and killed, and contemplate the awful fact that they might suffer the same fate. This was not a role for the faint of heart.

However, while the Romans certainly had the raw ingredients for combat trauma, the danger for a Roman legionary was much more localised. Mortars could not be lobbed into the Green Zone, suicide bombers did not walk into the market, and garbage piled on the street did not hide powerful explosives. The danger for a Roman soldier was largely circumscribed by his moments on the field of battle, and even here, if he was with the victorious side, the casualties were likely to be light: at Gergovia, a disaster by Caesar’s standards, he lost nearly seven hundred men (Caes. B. Gall. 7.51). In his victory over Pompey the Great at Pharsalus, his casualties numbered only two hundred (Caes. B. Civ. 3.99).

So we are left with the disturbing question: were the stressors really the same?

This is the part where I also defer to my eldest sister as a doctor and surgeon specialising in neurology and just so much smarter than myself.

My eldest sister holds the view in talking to her own American medical peers that despite similar experiences in Afghanistan and Iraq, British soldiers on average report better mental health than US soldiers.

My sister pointed out to research study done by Kings College London way back around 2015 or so that analysed 34 studies produced over a 15-year period (up to 2015) and found that overall there has been no increase in mental health issues among British personnel - with the exception of high rates of alcohol abuse among soldiers. The study was in part inspired the “significant mental health morbidity” among U.S. soldiers and reports that factors such as age and the quality of mental health programs contribute to the difference between the two nation’s servicemen and women.

She pointed out that these same studies showed that post-traumatic stress disorder afflicts roughly 2 to 5% of non-combat U.K. soldiers returning from deployment, while 7% of combat troops report PTSD. According to a General Health Questionnaire, an estimated 16 to 20% of U.K. soldiers have reported symptoms of common mental disorders, similar to the rates of the general U.K. population. In comparison, studies around the same time in 2014 showed U.S. soldiers experience PTSD at rates of 21 to 29%. The U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs estimated PTSD afflicted 11% of veterans returning from Afghanistan and 20% returning from Iraq. Major depression was reported by 14% of major soldiers according to another study commissioned by RAND corporation; roughly 7% of the general U.S. population reports similar symptoms.

It’s always tough comparing rates between countries and is not a reflection of the quality of the fighting soldier. But one finding that consistently and stubbornly refuses to go away is that over the past 20 years reported mental health problems tend to be higher among service personnel and veterans of the USA compared with the UK, Canada, Germany and Denmark.

However my sister strongly cautioned against making hasty judgements. And there could be many variable factors at play. One explanation is that American soldiers are more likely than their British counterparts to be from the reserve forces. Empirical studies showed reservists from both America and British troops were more likely to experience mental illness post-deployment. It was also worth pointing out that American soldiers also tended to be younger - being younger and inexperienced as well as untested on the battlefield, service personnel would naturally run the risk of greater and be more vulnerable to mental illness.

In contrast, the elite forces of the British army, such as your brother’s Parachute Regiment or the Royal Marines, were found to be the least affected by mental illness. It was found that in spite of elite forces experiencing some of the toughest fighting conditions, they tended to enjoy better mental health than non-elite troops. The more elite a unit is or more professional then you find that troops tend to enjoy a very deep bonds of camaraderie. As such the social cohesion of these fighting forces provides a psychological protective buffer. Not for all, but for many.

More intriguing are new avenues of discovery that might go a long way to actually understanding one of the root causes of PTSD. According to my sister, recent research carried out in the US and Europe and published in such prestigious medical journals as the New England Journal of Medicine (US) and the Lancet (UK), seems to establish a causal link between concussive injury and PTSD.

One recent study looked at US soldiers that concerned itself with the effects of concussive injuries upon troops after their return from active duty during the war in Iraq.

Of the majority of soldiers who suffered no combat injuries of any sort, 9.1 per cent exhibited symptoms consistent with PTSD. This allows a baseline for susceptibility of roughly 10% of the population. A slightly higher number (16.2%) of those who were injured in some way, but suffered no concussion, also experienced symptoms. As soon as concussive injuries were involved, however, the rates of PTSD climbed dramatically.

Although only 4.9% of the troops suffered concussions that resulted in complete loss of consciousness, 43.9% of these soldiers noted on their questionnaires that they were experiencing a range of PTSD symptoms. Of the 10.3% of the unit who suffered concussion resulting in confusion but retained consciousness, more than a quarter (27.3%) suffered symptoms. This suggests a high correlation between head trauma and the occurrence of subsequent psychological problems. The authors of the study note that ‘concern has been emerging about the possible long term effect of mild traumatic brain injury or concussion...as a result of deployment related head injuries, particularly those resulting from proximity to blast explosions’

Although these results are preliminary, if confirmed they have profound implications for anyone trying to understand the nature of warfare in the ancient world, especially the Western world.

So why does it matter?

In Roman warfare, wounds were most often inflicted by edged weapons. Romans did of course experience head trauma, but the incidence of concussive injuries would have been limited both by the types of weapons they faced and by the use of helmets. Indeed the efficacy and importance of headgear for example can be deduced from the death of the Epirrote general Pyrrhus from a roof tile during the sack of Argos. It is likely that the Romans designed their helmets with an eye to blunting the force of the blows they most often encountered. Connolly has argued that helmet design in the Republican period suggests a crouching fighting stance (see P. Connolly, ‘The Roman Fighting Technique Deduced from Armour and Weaponry’, Roman Frontier Studies (1989). However my own view is that the change in helmet design may signal instead a shift in the role of troops from performing assaults on towns and fortifications when the empire was expanding (and the blows would more often rain from above) to the defence and guarding of the frontiers.

While the evidence is clear that concussion is not the only risk factor for PTSD, it is so strongly correlated that it suggests that the incidence of PTSD may have risen sharply with the arrival of modern warfare and the technology of gunpowder, shells, and plastic explosives. Indeed, accounts of shell shock from the First World War are common, and it was in the wake of that war that those observing veterans suspected that neurological damage was being caused by exploding shells.

For soldiers of the Second World War and down to our modern day, an artillery barrage is like an invention of hell.

As one American put it in his memoirs of fighting the Japanese at Peleiu and Okinawa, “I developed a passionate hatred for shells. To be killed by a bullet seemed so clean and surgical but shells would not only tear and rip the body, they tortured one’s mind almost beyond the brink of sanity. After each shell I was wrung out, limp and exhausted. During prolonged shelling, I often had to restrain myself and fight back a wild inexorable urge to scream, to sob, and to cry. As Peleliu dragged on, I feared that if I ever lost control of myself under shell fire my mind would be shattered. To be under heavy shell fire was to me by far the most terrifying of combat experiences. Each time it left me feeling more forlorn and helpless, more fatalistic, and with less confidence that I could escape the dreadful law of averages that inexorably reduced our numbers. Fear is many-faceted and has many subtle nuances, but the terror and desperation endured under heavy shelling are by far the most unbearable” (see E.B. Sledge, With the Old Breed at Peleiu and Okinanwa, 2007).

The psychological effect of shelling seems to result from the combined effect of awaiting injury while at the same time having no power to combat it.

There is another aspect that I alluded to above which is the psychological and societal conditioning of the Roman soldier. In other words a Roman male’s social and cultural expectations of his place in the world. Feelings of helplessness and fatalism were probably a less alien experience for most Romans – even those in the upper classes. In general, the Romans inhabited a world that was significantly more brutal and uncertain than our own.

This another way of saying that the Roman and 21st century combat are very different in a variety of ways that subject the modern soldier to a good deal more stress than the legionary was ever likely to suffer. And the Roman’s societal preparation – his life before the battle – was far more robust than that we enjoy today.

Take infant mortality. In the modern developed world, our infant mortality rates are about ten per thousand. In Rome, it is estimated that this number was three hundred per thousand. Three-tenths of infants would die within the first year, and an additional fifth would not make it to the age of ten - 50% of children would not survive childhood. Anecdotal evidence supports these statistics: Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, gave birth to twelve children between 163 bc and 152 bc; all twelve survived their father’s death in 152 bc, but only three survived to adulthood. Marcus Aurelius and his wife, Faustina, had at least twelve children but only the future emperor Commodus survived.  

Then look at how that child grows up. The typical Roman child would be raised in a society that readily accepted ultra-violent arena entertainment, mob justice, frequent and bloody warfare as a fact of life. This was reinforced by religious and societal encouragement to see war as natural and beneficial, open butchering of food animals, a total lack of support structures for the poor and less able.

Compared to the legionary our modern soldier has been protected from such realities to a greater degree than at any other point in history, and will thus be far less well prepared for the horror of a warfare that contains far more stress factors than for a man who might fight a handful of battles in his military career, with long periods of relative calm in between, state of war notwithstanding. Modern special and elite forces training often emphasises the brutalisation and ‘rebuilding’ of the recruit in readiness for this step into darkness, but it seems likely that no such conditioning would have been needed two thousand years ago.

I would argue that we experience war very differently from the way the Romans did. Our modern identity is defined far more by our Western Christian heritage than our Western Classical roots. They are in fact world apart when it comes to ethics and morality. Consider the fact that when we talk of war and killing today we often do so through conflict between our civilian moral codes – which offer the strict injunction not to do violence to other human beings – and wartime, when men are commanded to violate such prohibitions. It is a terrible thing to try to navigate ‘Thou shalt not kill’ and the necessity of taking a life in combat.

It is sometimes the case that the qualities that make the best soldier do not make the best civilian, a point amply attested in Greek poetry by heroes such as Heracles and Odysseus.

The Romans, for their part, celebrated heroes such as Cincinnatus, who could command effectively and then leave behind the power he wielded to return to his humble plough. It is important, however, when evaluating combat and its effects in the ancient world, that we do not read our ambivalence about violence onto the Romans. They inhabited an empire whose prosperity was quite openly tied to conquest.

As M. Zimmerman writes in his academic article, “Violence in Late Antiquity Reconsidered’ (2007), “The pain of the other, seen on the distorted faces of public and private monuments, or heard in the screams of criminals in the amphitheatre, reassured Romans of their own place in the world. Violence was a pervasive presence in the public space; indeed, it was an important basis for its existence, pertaining as it did not only to victories over external enemies but also to the internal order of the state.”

Violence then was both the means and the expression of Roman power. The Roman soldier was its instrument. The Roman warrior then would have brought a different perspective to lethal violence, and would have had a far more restricted moral circle to his modern counterpart – his friends and family, clan, patron and clients, as opposed to millions of fellow citizens via the internet and social media.

Part II follows next post

#question #ask #PTSD #war #roman #greek #classical #legionary #spartan #mental health #depression #trauma #warfare #british army #mental illness #homecoming #soldiers #combat veterans #veterans

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steve0discusses · 3 years

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Yugioh Ep 35 S4: Raphael Joins the Pile of Dead Bodies

Ah 2020, thankfully we have one trashfire somewhat behind us, but I’m still avoiding social media for so many obvious reasons because of all the other trashfires that just never seem to stop burning, so lets talk about Yugioh with all of this newfound time.

Ah, card games. Card games that go on for 6-7 episodes. Lets see how they pad it out:

In a lot of ways, Roland really is just padding for the show, and that’s OK. He’s doing his best, by doing literally nothing but stand outside and check the time.

Inside the dusty soul chamber, Tristan has decided to do us the favor of recapping what happened last episode, which included the return of our four dead friends, so that they could die...again.

Seto’s reaction to seeing these dead people suddenly alive again was very “guys...I went nuts like years ago, I’m just going with it at this point.” and he’s still 100% positive that this is all a hologram and that no one will ever die.

Whatever it takes for Seto to get out of bed in the morning, I guess.

(read more under the cut)

One of the big mechanics the game is that you need to stay level headed, or the Orichalcos just kind of slurps you up. This explains a little why Dartz is so freakin chill basically all of the time, just the Bob Ross of evil over there. It also is sort of funny because Pharaoh and Seto are the least chill people to have ever lived so he’s just kind of waiting it out to see whom between Seto and Kaiba gets the most angry first and completely botches it.

Yugi has to do literally nothing and for the first time in his life this is the right choice.

I’m so glad he gets to use his big brain move of “If I don’t play, no one dies!” from S1. Glad it came back to serve him for once instead of just make everyone else really annoyed.

Yugi just...not moving means it’s now Seto’s turn to put down some cards, and he kinda looks over at Pegasus and goes...well you know what’s gonna happen next.

I have no idea why he didn’t attack Pegasus. Like this episode is kind of weird because we got these flashbacks of Pegasus being like “you’re my only hope, Yugi!” and it’s like wtf, Pegasus trapped you on a murder island and tried to kill you multiple times. He abducted Mokuba and turned both the Kaiba brothers into cards.

yo did Seto and Pegasus get back together in between seasons or something? Was there a whole character development where these two have fun brunches in San Fransisco now? Because I would watch that anime. I would watch the anime where Seto and Pegasus are co-hosting Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, and just destroying every unsuspecting local restaurant they brunch in.

But are we just assuming that the eyeball did all that evil stuff from S1 and that otherwise Pegasus is a good person? Because like...he was a mess before he got possessed. He’s kind of a Yugi, he’s kind of a Bakura, he’s kind of a Marik...in that there’s a mess in that bean, and getting possesed just only amplified what was already there.

So, with his smug as hell grin, Seto surprises Dartz by only barely getting affected by this inescapable moral dilemma and Seto just very quickly deciding to do a murder. And then we get a little blimp throwback to S2 (S3? I don’t even remember at this point, since we’ve been stuck in S4 for an entire year. Thanks 2020.)

If blocking the shot when Marik did it in S3 or S2 or whenever that was, didn’t get Mai to like Joey, then it shouldn’t work if you do it a second time.

But hey, I guess it’s better than letting her perma-die. Although this show desperately needs to figure out how to use Mai if they’re gonna keep her around, youknow?

Like all ships are fine and valid here, ship whatever you want to your hearts content: I don’t ship at all, as you know, but I hope one day they give Mai a personality that is consistently likeable. I do want to like her because she’s like...good at what she does when she plays cards and can be that can be a fun “hey I’m a girl but I’m not a freakin ‘gamer girl’ you male chauvinist assholes” type of character. But, the show just...the show doesn’t know what they want outside of a little romantic tension that they legally can’t follow through because of a 5-6 year age gap with a teenager.

This show actively tries to destroy this ship, and then turns around and is like “oh shoot this ship is all we have.” This show tries to lift up Mai as a feminist icon one season, and then tears her down for being “too” feminist the next season when she decides to--youknow--kill Joey Wheeler because he made her feel weak or something when he saved her life.

Like the show does a lot to explore weakness and strength, and how what we see as weakness is actually strength, and how what we tend to attribute as strengths is actually weakness, and how our modern career/school/success expectations set us up for failure, but I think they explored that way better with Seto than they ever did with Mai.

Could’ve been cool Mai, you could’ve been cool.

Anyhoo, that was my spicy commentary on a 10+ year old anime, good to get it off my chest.

Seto and Yami have the typical problem they have whenever they play cards together, where one goes completely rogue. Except this time, the one going rogue isn’t Seto, it’s Yami. He’s just like...I’ll make life for Seto very difficult and I will lose this game and I don’t even mind because I’m already dead, deal with it.

So honestly this is an episode where it’s just Seto demanding we kill a bastard, and Yami being like “but not THAT bastard” and Seto just shrugging and saying “I have to kill A bastard, Yugi! Just CHOOSE one!”

That actual line in the show (I forget what it was exactly) does infer that Seto thinks Joey holds him back, and that implication speaks miles about Seto’s insecurities.

HOW THOUGH..........what are you jealous of, Seto?

You’re better at cards than he is, he’s never beat you at anything. It’s not about who’s best friends with Yugi because...Yugi’s possessed so Yami is always going to take first place...

......so what could it possibly BE?

Seto doesn’t attend school anymore, is it about that? Is it because Joey is likeable? Is it because Joey pretends he has a much older girlfriend? I mean hypothetically, Blue Eyes White Dragon is WAY older than Mai so...that can’t be it.

.....what IS it???

Does the “friendship” he have with Joey make Seto too soft? Is that what’s holding him back? Because Seto doesn’t actually think he’s friends with these people and says that Yugi and co are “Mokuba’s friends” so like....

.....what are you talking about, Seto???

Is it because you’re addicted to cards again? Because that’s...sort of Joey’s fault because he was the one who told you he needed a ride to Jacksonville, and then let slip that the “King of Games” title was up for grabs, is that it?

Are you just tired of Joey asking you for a ride?

Not like it matters, because Joey survives, and Seto gets to feel like a complete asshole about it.

As Raphael (who is this purple blur here) motorcycles into the dome of souls, Rolands last words were

“You can’t go in there!”

which was the weirdest thing to say to a guy you just saw fall down a 50 story building a few hours ago. Raphael not being dead should be the thing Roland fixates on, but instead he’s seen so many people die and come back to life, that he’s only concerned that Raphael will get in trouble for trespassing.

Again, Roland is the only Kaiba that hasn’t died yet, and it’s because he’s the only Kaiba that hasn’t broken the law.

Dude. What if the reason Roland is standing outside is because he’s been politely looking for the doorbell to be let in?

...the players asking for death...like clockwork...and me asking for the end of this freakin game...we played...1 turn this episode...

This episode was 1 turn!

And you may ask...well what else could possibly happen to stretch this out and well...

Raphael dives in on a motorcycle to save the day. Which is an aesthetic, by the way, this huge man covered in like a dozen belts, doing a wheelie jump into a chasm of 1 million souls. that’s an aesthetic.

So he shows up, gets off his bike and I was like “Oh good, someone to maybe save Yugi saving Joey saving Mai?” And instead, I was...not given that.

Mostly Raphael is here because he ALSO wants to kill Dartz, and is like “can I join? I know you’ve only played like 1 round, just deal me a new hand, it’ll be fine.” and it’s like...we already played the Orichalcos Raphael, this is not a game of Uno, you cannot just jump in.

Dartz is sort of obsessed with how everyone around him has potential for evil except for him, the chillest human to ever be born, and I gotta say...when he’s in this room...Dartz has a point.

+++++++++++++RANT ABOUT BEING PERFECT FEEL FREE TO SKIP++++++++++++++

It is sort of nice to have the concept of an older generation (in this case 10,000 years older) fighting with a younger generation. To have the older, more typically wiser generation say “Listen, I kinda screwed the planet and the war economy and the prison system...and I’m gonna keep doing that...and you can’t stop me because you’re a bunch of hypocritical dumbasses.” and then the younger generation say. “We don’t care if we’re a mess, dude. We aren’t the problem here.”

I may be putting some recent topical STUFF into this mold here, but it is a nice little analogy that they made even someone who is such a human disaster as Yami and Seto “morally good” enough to fight Dartz. You don’t have to be a perfect Harvard Grad to fight the system, you don’t have to be an entirely problematic-free savior, you can be even as problematic as Seto Kaiba--just get rid of the dumb assholes trying to destroy the world. That’s all.

Like this concept is strangely prescient because in 2020 we’re in a weird time period where if you aren’t perfect, you’re not allowed to have opinions. You’re not allowed to make content. You’re not allowed to make change. This is mostly an online problem in places like twitter, but it’s a real problem--because in the end what you’re left with is no one that wants to step up to the plate because they know that they, too, are flawed.

And like not even just as a political thing, even as a creator, as an artist, I see this problem more and more with kids. Kids who are like “I am afraid to draw because what if I do it wrong and I get dragged on twitter years later?” or “I want to make a story, but I’m afraid to get cancelled because my fantasy story has problematic stuff in it? Am a bad person for wanting to write it?” And it’s like...what are we doing to young creators right now? Did we all fail humanities? How have we failed art and literature SO badly that we’ve come to this point that people are too afraid to even learn how to do it right?

Anyway that was a tangent, but like...you see the similarities, right? That if you really were as perfect as Dartz either politically or creatively, you’d be a freakin monster and would probably just tear down everyone else around you on twitter rather than lift other people up. It’s a stretch but eh, it’s been a while since I went on a good Yugioh tangent and like

---it’s not like I can say this on twitter---

+++++++++++++++END OF THAT RANT+++++++++++++++++++

So it’s at this point that Dartz turns to Raphael is like “I mean...we weren’t really doing anything else, and Yugi and Yami are playing so slowly...I guess I have time to bust your nuts” and decides to bust his nuts.

Oh hey, I was right.

And yeah, that’s still effed up. Dartz killed his Raphael’s family, left him on an island, and then adopted him later after forcing him to dig up their graves. Like...Raphael, that’s effed up.

He also did the same thing to everyone else (and for Valon he just kinda glazed over that really fast because we had to edit his backstory out of the English version)

PS at this part Mokuba started sweating bullets and Tea leaned over and was like “Is this true, Mokuba?”

And Mokuba was like “...yes.”

Because, I don’t think Mokuba can keep any secret from Tea. Like for reals, Tea may be the most dangerous thing to all of KaibaCorp if she wasn’t so distracted by Yami’s endless string of problems. Mokuba is constantly telling them all of Seto’s deepest darkest secrets and there is like nothing Seto can do about it.

The animation of Gozaburo turning into a beautiful Dartz was just a simple fade to white, but man--imagine if they had dome some crazy effed up animation where Gozaburo just whips back his head and he has ass length blue hair and long, luscious lashes?

Imagine.

Anyway, this was enough for Raphael, who was already our most gullible and unstable person on this show, to just flip that switch and go lime green like all those other minibosses before him.

Really glad we built up Raphael for him to just die at the door hahaha.

That was so freakin random.

OK then. Thanks for nothing, Raphael.

I guess we go to the next episode to see if we finally play another turn? We can hope for good things. But if we don’t play a full turn I will NOT be surprised.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

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fatefulfaerie · 4 years

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Lost and Found

Offshoot from this. Might still do a direct sequel to that one but I’m not sure.

Last post before Linktober. Probably. I know I keep saying that and then my brain is like but what if this idea...

Also sorry for the lack of content before October 1st.

“Sarqso, young vai,” Furosa said, her arms dangling on the counter. “My usual ice deliverer is on vacation so this shipment of ice is a goddess-send.”

Link was standing casually, with his hand on the counter.

“Don’t worry about it,” Link said. “You don’t even have to pay me the regular rate.”

“Good,” Furosa said as she stood up straight. “Because we don’t even have the budget for that. But if I may say so, you do look a touch older than when I first met you. If you are so inclined, I can give you and your friend each a Noble Pursuit, our signature cocktail, on the house. How old are you two?”

“We’re both eighteen,” Link said as Zelda came up beside him.

“Give or take a hundred years,” he muttered under his breath in his normal non-heightened voice, which made Zelda smile.

“Great!” Furosa said. “Right on the rupee! I’ll get those for you right away!”

“Link, are you sure about this?” Zelda asked as they sat on the barstools facing each other, Furosa leaving to prepare the drinks.

“We are of age.”

“But I’ve never had alcohol before. Have you?”

“Not that I remember,” said Link.

Zelda tipped her head with a slight smirk.

“They’re free,” Link argued. “We may as well try them. One sip.”

“Fine,” Zelda said. “But for the record Gerudo consider themselves adults at eighteen. For Hylians it’s twenty one. You’re being a bad influence on me with your impulsive courage.”

“You don’t have to drink it.”

“No, no,” Zelda said. “Don’t want you going around saying I’m a coward.”

“Here we are,” Furosa said, Link and Zelda’s gazes shifting. “Two Noble Pursuits for two lovely Hylian vais.”

It was in an elegant, long glass, the liquid hued orange like a sunset with a hydromelon wedge on the edge of the rim and two ice cubes floating in each.

“Thank you,” Zelda said to the old Gerudo bartender.

“Fair warning,” Furosa said. “It doesn’t have much effect on Gerudo but for small Hylians like you, you could be hammered in no time.”

Furosa departed, leaving them to their drinks. Link and Zelda took a gentle hold of the short stems of the glass with their fingers supporting the long bowl of the glass.

“Do we toast to something?” Link asked, assuming his normal voice now that all Gerudo were out of earshot.

“My father always did that,” Zelda replied. “The toast, I mean. Some long monologue about Hyrule’s prosperity.” Zelda shook her head. “I can’t guarantee that in its ruined state, and I’m not even sure if I want to rebuild the kingdom. Everything we’ve been through...with Calamity Ganon and with Ganondorf’s corpse...I think I want nothing more than to indulge myself into just taking a break.”

Link’s eyes had melted and saddened with concern, blue eyes attentive and watching hers.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Link said.

Zelda nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “But…”

She looked down at her drink, pondering at the thought and not thinking about the drink at all. The ice was surely gradually melting as they talked.

“I think I want a longer break than I let on,” Zelda said. “I think I want to wait even longer before I return to the castle as Queen.”

“How long?” Link asked.

Zelda paused. She didn’t know why she feared Link would object. He had always supported her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe a month, maybe a year and part of me.” She exhaled a sigh. “Part of me wants to forget it all together and stay in your Hateno house, living a simple life until we both die of old age.”

“That sounds nice,” Zelda heard Link say, looking up at him to see the smile she thought she heard. “But it’s ultimately your choice.”

Zelda took a deep breath in and out, closing her eyes before resettling them on Link.

“To something new,” she said, the words making Link smile more.

“To something new,” Link repeated.

Their glasses clinked, Link bringing the rim to his lips as Zelda decided to smell the beverage.

She immediately balked, coughing and feeling nausea rise up within her chest. Link, alarmed by the sound, didn’t meet the rim of his glass to his lips, stopping and setting the glass on the counter as Zelda teared up, noises from her throat similar to a cat’s hiss.

“Are you okay?” Link asked.

“It smells disgusting!” Zelda exclaimed. “I feel like I’m going to throw up!”

Link’s brow contorted. It didn’t seem that bad. He picked the glass back up and brought it to his nose.

It was sweet, with the slight bitter scent of alcohol.

“Smells fine to me,” Link said.

“I don’t think I’m drinking mine,” Zelda said, placing her elbow on the counter and her head in her hand, attempting to get over her nausea.”

She watched as Link took a sip, waiting for his reaction as his lips opened and closed. He looked as if he was trying to ascertain his own opinion until his eyes suddenly widened and the glass slipped from his hand, crashing to the ground with splattering broken glass. Zelda’s eyes had widened as her head came off her hand.

“Link?” she asked before Link’s eyes closed and he started to faint off the chair.

“Link!” she said, attempting to catch him, but only making it soon enough to be at his side after he crumbled to the ground with a thud.

“How much did he drink?” she heard Furosa ask. Apparently the commotion had attracted the worry of the bartender, who had come around to try and help.

“Just a sip,” Zelda said before shaking her head. She didn’t even look at Furosa, so concerned for Link she couldn’t afford the polite glance away, “but it wasn’t the alcohol. He faints like this sometimes.”

“He?”

Zelda panicked.

“Sh-she,” Zelda corrected. “Sorry, I misspoke. My worry must have jumbled my words.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Furosa asked.

Zelda finally looked over.

“No...no thank you...I know what to do. Thank you...I-I mean sarqso.”

Zelda returned her concerned gaze to Link as Furosa left, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

“It’s been so long since you’ve gotten a memory,” she said quietly. Her hand changed so that the backs of her fingers grazed his cheek instead. She looked over at the sound of footsteps and saw some pedestrians.

As one of the pair said something indistinguishable to the other, Zelda thought upon how this must look, that Link resembled a very drunk vai. He picked the perfect time to remember something about a hundred years prior.

When Zelda looked to Link again, waiting for him to open his eyes, she wondered at what memory it would be, whether it was associated with Gerudo town or with her or even with the Noble Pursuit.

It was a couple minutes before his eyelids flitted open.

“Link!” She exclaimed, putting her hand back on his cheek.

“I’m okay,” he said with a smile and a hand on hers at his cheek. He sat up slowly. “I’m okay.”

“Are you feeling okay?” She asked quickly, her mouth running a mile a minute. “Did you get a memory? What was it? Did it have to do with your family? Or was it later? Did you--”

“Zelda,” he interrupted with a slight laugh. “I’ll tell you all about it, don’t worry. But first, let’s get out of the street. The Hotel Oasis isn’t far. I’ll pay for the broken glass later.”

“Okay,” Zelda said as they both stood up, each other’s hands clasping into each other. They walked along the street with swinging arms.

“One bed or two?” Link asked.

“Two, I think,” Zelda reasoned. “Being close to you is just so abhorrent.”

“All right, one it is,” Link said, catching Zelda’s sarcasm.

It wasn’t long before they faced each other on their bed, legs crossed and knees almost touching. The innkeeper had raised a brow when they asked for one bed and although the inference she made about their relationship was correct, Link and Zelda both reddened when she asked them not to engage in any “funny business”.

Link and Zelda were an incoherent mess explaining that they had never done that and that although they were technically dating, they preferred to wait until after marriage. It was obvious the explanation wasn’t needed, even as Link and Zelda explained that they just liked to cuddle in each other’s arms.

They stopped their rambling when the innkeeper was clearly unamused and sat on their bed. It occurred to them that the innkeeper more than likely thought of them as a gay couple, Link looking like a vai, but with their masks on and homosexuality just as acceptable as heterosexuality anyway, they didn’t really care.

“The memory,” Zelda prompted excitedly where they sat. “What was it?”

Link smiled, in fact, his lips curled inwards, as if he were trying to stifle a laugh.

“What?” Zelda said with an unrestrained laugh.

“You’re not going to believe me,” Link said.

“Of course I will,” she said. “Now out with it.”

He looked so excited to tell her, to see her reaction, his smile was brimming with impatience.

“It involved you,” Link said. “A bit after we went to Eldin. You were about sixteen. Your father had a banquet and...you got drunk.”

“No, I didn’t,” Zelda insisted.

Link raised his brow.

“Really, Link,” she insisted. “I didn’t. I know I said I would believe you but I’ve never been drunk.”

“Oh yeah?” He challenged. “What do you remember about that night?”

Zelda shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Most things from those times are foggy. You know how it goes.”

“Try,” Link said, Zelda exhaled a sigh and looked up at the ceiling for answers.

“I was at the banquet and then you escorted me back to my chambers when it was done...at least I think you did.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“But I wasn’t drunk,” she said. “I told you I’ve never had alcohol. I know for sure you escorted me back to my chambers because the next morning I woke up in my bed with the absolute nastiest headache. And I was nauseous...”

Those last four words were slowed down as she figured it out. That’s why she had such a reaction to the Noble Pursuit. Her mouth popped open.

“I was drunk!” She exclaimed. “How did I get drunk?! Oh goddesses, did my father know?!”

Link shook his head.

“Urbosa told him you were sick,” Link said. “I escorted you back to your chambers after you mistook the Noble Pursuit for something non-alcoholic.”

Zelda brought a hand to her mouth almost smiling as she anticipated both the hilarity and embarrassment of what was to follow.

“What did I do?”

Link’s lips pursed inward.

“In my eyes, you suddenly went from a princess to be kept at a distance to a girl clinging to my shirt. You barely even recognized who I was and then you went on and on about how perfect I was.”

Zelda shook her head.

“Goddesses, I don’t remember this at all.”

“I took you back to your chambers and told you it was time for bed,” Link continued. “And then you...kissed me.”

Zelda’s eyes widened and she felt her face pale.

“On the lips,” he clarified, “before proceeding to throw up immediately after. I cleaned you up as we talked about the kingdom’s expectations and after asking me if you were drunk, I led you to your bed. I went to leave immediately after when you thanked me for the first time ever. I smiled and departed.”

Zelda’s smile had faded and her eyes were fixed on him.

“The next morning I would learn that you didn’t remember any of it and at the time I convinced myself the kiss didn’t matter to you because you were drunk.”

“So…” she made out, lowering her hand as she figured it out. “So that whole time...we had already kissed? And...and you said nothing?”

She searched nothing with her eyes.

“Because you were keeping it hidden, weren’t you?” she asked rhetorically. “To shield me from embarrassment, to shield yourself from my anger and...to shield us from a scandal that would take on a life of its own.”

Link nodded.

“I assumed so, too.”

Zelda shook her head.

“I just can’t believe you knew that whole time why I resented you, your perfection, my imperfection, I guess it makes sense why you so easily forgave me, how we so easily became friends.”

Zelda let out a chuckle.

“I didn’t think I had lost a memory, too,” she said. “This is just bizarre.”

“Welcome to my life,” Link jived.

Zelda giggled as she tipped her head, her eyes adoring him.

“I wish I could kiss you now.”

Link put on a mischievous smile, looking to his right, to his left, and back to lean closer into her.

“The innkeeper is gone,” he said. “No one will see if we take off the masks connected to our veils.”

Zelda peered around Link at the empty street outside before looking around the inn.

“I suppose.”

She took off her blue mask, but that wasn’t the dangerous part, Zelda concerned as Link took off his. She considered them lucky he was facing away from the street.

“See?” He asked rhetorically when no one seized him for being male. “No problem.”

He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, the hero and the princess kissing deeply and losing their focus on anything else. The “Sound the alarm!” was not regarded by either of them as they made out with each other, their hearts burning only to continue.

“A voe has been detected!” It was just white noise to them. “Capture him at once!”

Link suddenly felt himself pulled from her lips, from her all together by strong hands on his arms.

“Link!” Zelda exclaimed, coming to her hands and knees on the bed before hastening off it, two Gerudo dragging Link away.

She followed them through the town, racing to catch up with how swiftly they dragged him, only to toss him into the sands outside the entrance.

“You didn’t have to throw him!” Zelda exclaimed to one of the guards.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” the Gerudo guard said. “But you know the law. You know what we had reason to believe.”

Zelda furrowed her brow at the insinuation. Link would never do that, but Zelda knew she couldn’t overturn Gerudo law. Link had already sat up when Zelda approached him, Zelda kneeling in front of him and looking back at the guard.

“No voe are allowed within the town!” the guard exclaimed with her spear pointed at Link. “It’s a rule of the Gerudo! Do not come back here! Not ever!”

Zelda exhaled a sigh with closed eyes before turning her head and opening them to look at Link.

“I’m sorry, Link,” Zelda apologized. “I shouldn’t have suggested we kiss.”

Link shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he responded. “I probably would have kissed you anyway.” He released a chuckle. “I’ve actually never been caught before, at least not like this.

“Wait,” he said with a different train of thought. “You are still technically the princess, aren’t you? Can’t you do something about the rule?”

Zelda shook her head.

“I don’t want to disrespect their culture, it’s unfair.”

“Why do they even have that rule? Do you know?”

Zelda nodded in affirmation.

“It’s myth by now, one of those cautionary tales that speak of danger and are meant to elicit fear, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t justified.”

“What do you mean?” Link asked, his arms were now casually draped over his bent knees and Zelda had already repositioned herself to sit on her heels.

“It is said they used to allow men when the town was first built,” Zelda explained, “but a Gerudo woman was raped and conceived a child. The woman was regarded as ruined, and although she loved her child, she never found romantic love. Gerudo do not allow men because of that story, but also because they want to control the way in which they find a mate. They want to be ready for it, to have reached adulthood and have prepared for a pilgrimage to Hyrule. On this journey, they get to know themselves, and eventually, they find a mate who matches them. It is courting on their own terms, where the men don’t hold all the power. That is why they hold classes on courting, to prepare those who have chosen to undergo the pilgrimage for the challenge ahead.”

“Wow,” Link said. “I had no idea. So just now they thought…”

Zelda nodded at the inference.

“Zelda,” he said as he too sat on his heels, taking her hand. “I would never do that to you, I promise. I could never hurt you like that, betray your trust in such a manner.”

“Link,” Zelda said with her infectious laugh. “I know you wouldn’t. But they don’t.”

The sky had already started to darken with the sunset, but the approaching night started to bring a chill, especially cold considering their light Gerudo fabrics.

“It’ll be cold soon,” Link said, looking out at the desert.

“Maybe we can stay at the Bazaar,” Zelda said. “Head back to Hateno in the morning.”

Link sighed, looking in the direction of Gerudo town, the one he was just ousted out of.

“It’s just…”

“What?” Zelda asked, searching him.

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

Link stood up to avoid suspicion and it wasn’t long before they started their walk to Kara Kara Bazaar.

But Link knew that they were walking away from the jewelry shop, where a special order was waiting for Link, a ring with a diamond in the center. He had planned to pick it up late in the night when Zelda was sleeping in the Hotel Oasis.

But if he could no longer enter the town, he would have to find a Gerudo who could pick it up for him.

And then, on an orange sunset like this one, at the top of Tuft mountain next to the lake shaped like a heart, Link would propose to his Princess.

“The men holding the power,” he said, the thought suddenly spurring him with worry. “Although the power should be equally shared, sometimes that is unfortunately not the case. Do you...do you ever think I hold that power?”

“Link, of course not,” Zelda insisted. “You’re the best boyfriend a girl could have. You let me speak my mind probably more than I should.”

“But...but what if I did something that steps on your power...made a decision that puts you in a place to...to choose one thing or another.” Link sighed. “Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

“The Gerudo are a race made up entirely of women. There is a great power in that and they wish to harness it. But that isn’t the case with our relationship, Link. As long as we approach everything knowing we both have input, everything will be fine.”

Link nodded, supposing there was a difference between asking her to marry him and forcing her to marry him against her will. Perhaps he was overthinking it.

“Right.”

He felt Zelda take his hand and his worries were soothed. Link smiled with a warm heart knowing the love of his life was beside him, safe from harm, and may even choose to be by his side forever.

#zelink #breath of the wild #botw #botw 2 #breath of the wild 2 #breath of the wild sequel #gerudo town #hyrule #zelda #link

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multiverse-in-archive · 3 years

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GLaDOS and What She can Potentially Tell Us About Chell’s Character

((So decided to make an analysis, finally, after reading way too much into GLaDOS’s voicelines.

When it comes to blank slate videogame protagonist characters, admittedly I’m the type to analyze them based off of what you can and can’t do in the games they’re in without a consequence of some sort [like death or contradicting one of the few previously established character traits] as well as how the other characters react and interact with them. It’s really all I get to go off of.

Now, I know GLaDOS is not the most reliable resource to analyze Chell off of, considering not only her bitterness and bias, but also that not all of her observations of Chell are accurate. After all, Chell is not mute, just refuses to speak out of spite.

However, she’s the only character we have that has the most insight into Chell as a person, and with things that she’s either exaggerating or straight up lying about, we can distinguish that by what can be observed of her in the gameplay. Plus, with some of them, I doubt she’d bring them up if there was no reason for her to believe bringing them up wouldn’t hold some truth or exploit some sort of insecurity. She’s the calculating type that aims for weak points she sees rather than just throwing shit out and hoping she gets lucky, you know?

“But didn’t she write the files? Or lie about what was in them?”

She may have edited and/or exaggerated them, but I think at least some of the things were already there before she got her hands on them. After all, there’s this. Which would imply that the scientists themselves would have made those comments in the files.

And considering how uncooperative Chell was with her application process [refusingto even speak to HR, answering essay questions with nonsense in bianary] then they’d probably thought rather bitterly of her, and it would reflect in the file.

[Side note, don’t really agree with the Half Life Wiki suggesting that Chell signed up for this {at least, willingly} when everything in the Lab Rat comic pointed to the opposite being the case.]

Now with all that out of the way, let’s finally have a look at some of GLaDOS’s comments about Chell and how they reflect her based off of what we the players see of her in game or what we can infer her reactions are to them by how GLaDOS approaches them.

The Fat Jokes

"Congratulations. Not on the test."

"Most people emerge from suspension terribly undernourished. I want to congratulate you on beating the odds and somehow managing to pack on a few pounds." - Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"Hmm. This Plate must not be calibrated to someone of your... generous... ness. I'll add a few zeros to the maximum weight."

"You seem to have defeated its load-bearing capacity. Well done. I'll just lower the ceiling."

"Look at you. Sailing through the air majestically. Like an eagle. Piloting a blimp." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 9

“What, but Chell’s not fat-”

Yeah, I know, this is just more about what Chell’s potential response to it is.

And telling by how this tends to be one of GLaDOS’s go to's, it does seem like it’s something that at least annoys her.

Then again, though, it could also be just GLaDOS trying to poke at the most common insecurity among women. And I think GLaDOS even admitted to that being the reason she goes to it so often here and here. So it’s really up to interpretation.

Though personally, I think it’s something that annoys Chell but at the same time it doesn’t really get to her, if it makes sense? Just a nuisance at worst.

Comments on Chell’s Parentage [or Lack Thereof]

"It also says you were adopted. So that's funny, too." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Don't let that 'horrible person' thing discourage you. It's just a data point. If it makes you feel any better, science has now validated your birth mother's decision to abandon you on a doorstep." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"I'm going through the list of test subjects in cryogenic storage. I managed to find two with your last name. A man and a woman. So that's interesting. It's a small world." - Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

"I have a surprise waiting for you after this next test. Telling you would spoil the surprise, so I'll just give you a hint: It involves meeting two people you haven't seen in a long time." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 16

"I'll bet you think I forgot about your surprise. I didn't. In fact, we're headed to your surprise right now. After all these years. I'm getting choked up just thinking about it." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 17

Surprisingly the orphan/adopted jokes are actually fewer than I remember. With how Wheatley tried to imitate GLaDOS by throwing around “fatty” and making a comment about Chell being adopted that one time, I kinda thought that it was almost as common as the fat jokes.

Though, to be fair, the adoption comment goes back as far as the end of Portal, and GLaDOS actually did a whole bit where she pretended that she found Chell’s parents. So it left more of an impression on me than the fat comments actually did.

As for whether or not it’s true? It’s most likely. After all, the adoption/orphan comments are protocol for specifically dealing with orphan test subjects. Also in general Aperture seems to have it out for orphans in that test subject type listing thing. [credit to the-wheatley-core go check them out cowards-]

"But Chell’s a daughter from bring your daughter to work d-"

The file said she’s adopted, so ye. Adopted daughter is still daughter.

Furthermore, the Bring your Daughter to Work Day incident probably orphaned Chell all over again, so she’s like. An orphan twice over.

As for Chell’s feelings on this? I think from what GLaDOS says here that Chell probably did not take the surprise very well. Granted, she probably wasn’t expecting it to actually be anything good. She probably didn’t have her hopes up. But she was probably seriously pissed that GLaDOS went through all that trouble just for it to lead to... nothing. All for the sake of mocking her.

Further implied by GLaDOS rubbing salt in the wounds.

I think this would mean that this is a bit of a sore spot for Chell in general and that this was one of the few moments that genuinely upset her.

Calling Chell a Horrible Person [and a Loner]

"You're not a good person. You know that, right?"

"Good people don't end up here." -Portal, during the later part of the Escape

"All your other friends couldn't come either because you don't have any other friends. Because of how unlikable you are."

"It says so right here in your personnel file: Unlikable. Liked by no one. A bitter, unlikable loner whose passing shall not be mourned." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Well done. Here come the test results: You are a horrible person. I'm serious, that's what it says: A horrible person. We weren't even testing for that." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 2

GLaDOS really goes into calling Chell a bad person. There’s like. So many instances of this.

Though I don’t believe that Chell’s a bad person necessarily, there can be some things that might make one believe she is [outside of bias and clear guilt tripping/gaslighting].

If you’ve read my Chell headcanon shit, you might remember that I state that I think that Chell’s a rather spiteful person. Not only does she stubbornly refuse to speak purely to spite Aperture as a whole, but it’s implied from her file that she gave the scientists a lot of grief, to the point they recommend not ever testing her [it’s stated to be her tenacity, but tbh I think for Chell spite was at least a major motivatorfor her tenacity. After all, what else did she have?]. And once again, it seems that they view her rather bitterly if GLaDOS didn’t put that in the file herself.

Not to mention that GLaDOS manipulates her into destroying the Morality Core by appealing to her spite. After all, it’s not possible in game to simply do as she says and return it to her. You have to destroy it.

Even Wheatley caught onto Chell acting out of spite. He tried appealing to that when trying to convince her to get onto the conveyer belt to the mashy spike plate.

As for the loner bit, that seems to hold true to, considering how well Chell took the isolation she had to suffer. As far as she knew in the first game [at least at first], she was all alone and didn't so much as crack.

Not to mention in the second games the other characters' reactions imply that she's rather standoffish overall.

That combination can lead to someone being rather... difficult to work with...

But to be honest, I think she’s also capable of compassion, or at least mercy, and can be cooperative if she finds you trustworthy enough.

For the compassion [or mercy depending on how you view it] I have some examples that I’ll elaborate on in the Companion Cube and Wheatley sections, but there’s a couple of others I can get into.

Remember when I said I partially judge a blankslate character based off of what is and isn’t an option gameplaywise that doesn’t result in consequence.

Not only is it optional to save the Oracle Turret without consequence, but it even rewards you with an achievement and some neat foreshadowing from the character.

Then there is the time that Chell found GLaDOS at her lowest; a potato, being eaten alive by a bird.

Now, gameplaywise, you can’t advance without PotaTOS, hell, PotaTOS sits on the switch in the nest you find her in, but story and characterwise, Chell could have just went on her way, let her suffer the her fate at the hands [or talons/beak] of the bird. And yet she scared the bird off of her.

And it’s not like she knew that the place was going to self destruct or that she needed GLaDOS to survive, because that wasn’t brought up until after Chell scared the bird away.

As for the cooperativeness, I want to elaborate more on that when I get to Wheatley’s section, but I will say, she did work pretty well with GLaDOS in the later half of the game, despite how shakey their alliance was. Even risking her life to disconnect Wheatley from the chasis long enough for GLaDOS to fix everything. Just going off of the slim chance that she could survive it with GLaDOS’s intervention. It was no guarantee, she probably would have thought she was dead either way if she didn’t have at least a sliver of a thought that GLaDOS would pull her back in to safety.

Now imagine how well she'd probably work with you if she genuinely believed in her partnership with you.

It may have gotten a bit off track there, but my point is that GLaDOS is not completely unfounded with her being “unlikable”. It’s clear that she holds a lot of resentment for her situation and reacts spitefully because of it, and that combined with her being a rather distant person can make it hard to deal with her [and in fact might be a deal breaker for some], but at the same time, she’s not completely unreasonable and bitchy just so long as you’re either harmless or have good intentions.

Chell’s Sense of Fashion

"That jumpsuit you're wearing looks stupid. That's not me talking, it's right here in your file. On other people it looks fine, but right here a scientist has noted that on you it looks 'stupid.'"

"Well, what does a neck-bearded old engineer know about fashion? He probably - Oh, wait. It's a she. Still, what does she know? Oh wait, it says she has a medical degree. In fashion! From France!" -Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

Now, this is probably the shortest one because this is the only instance [that I know of] where GLaDOS pokes fun at her sense of fashion. And since it never comes up again, this is probably something that she sensed did not bother Chell one bit.

Though telling by how Chell had the upper half of her jumpsuit folded down and tied around her waist to expose her tops, it does seem like she cares about fashion a tad [probably favors both fashion and function], but doesn’t seem to care what other people think of her tastes, just what she likes.

The Companion Cube

"While it has been a faithful companion, your Companion Cube cannot accompany you through the rest of the test. If it could talk - and the Enrichment Center takes this opportunity to remind you that it cannot - it would tell you to go on without it because it would rather die in a fire than become a burden to you."

"You euthanized your faithful Companion Cube more quickly than any test subject on record. Congratulations." Portal, Test Chamber 17

"Oh. Did I accidentally fizzle that before you could complete the test? I'm sorry."

"Anyway, here's a new cube for you to project your deranged loneliness onto."

"I think that one was about to say 'I love you.' They ARE sentient, of course. We just have a LOT of them." Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 7

Ah the faithful Companion Cube, everyone’s best friend. And an instance where GLaDOS tries to emotionally torment Chell while still trying to pass herself off as a automated voice back in the first game.

Is the cube truly sentient? I don’t know.

Does Chell care about it? I don’t think GLaDOS would have brought them back in the second game and taunt her with them if she didn’t believe it would cause Chell some distress.

She even gives it back to her after setting her free.

Whether or not it can talk or feel anything, I think it’s clear that Chell is rather fond of it.

Side note, I swear to god throughout Test Chamber 17 in the first game I heard like. Soft, faint humming whenever I held it. Am I just crazy? Did any of you guys experience that too? help-

Wheatley

"I have only met one other team closer and one of them was an imbecile I had to destroy."

"The other? Well..."

"I don't think I want to go through that again." -Portal 2, Co-op Campaign, Unlocking Course 4 for the first time

I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly certain the team she’s talking about is Chell and Wheatley. There is literally no other pair that would fit that description that we know of. Sure, she didn’t destroy Wheatley [literally, anyways], but he is her definition of an imbicel that she had to deal with. And Chell has not worked with anyone else before Wheatley [Not directly anyways], and it’s pretty obvious that “the other” is who GLaDOS was referring to.

And while she didn’t get to see all they did together, she witnessed Chell put enough of her trust in him to follow him to escape, even despite her best efforts, and she bared witness to the fruit of their labor later.

I think she sensed a sort of chemistry between them, noticed how well they worked together. She even felt the need to ask permission to kill him. She probably wouldn’t have if she didn’t have reason to believe that Chell was at least at one point close to him.

So that begs the question; does she really believe Chell actually did all the work?

I don’t think so.

Again, she witnessed Chell faithfully follow Wheatley, so it’s reasonable to assume that she was following his lead. Not to mention that this is not a type of strategy that Chell has attempted on her own before. Chell’s strategy in the first game was to simply to bide her time, portal in and out when the opportunity arises, destroy shit, and just wander until she got results, basically [she was kinda following Rattmann's directions, though]. This strategy was too subtle, too quiet, to be Chell’s. She even said so herself; "And now I'monto all of your little tricks." And she'd recognized that this is not how she do.

Not to mention that they all know that Wheatley knows Aperture and all its inner workings better than Chell, so even if she wanted to sabotage anything, she wouldn’t know what and where they were.

I believe she saw an opertunity to split them apart in the form of Wheatley’s betrayal. More specifically to turn Chell against him. After all, she was very quiet until he lowered the lift back down.

Of course that backfired into her turning Wheatley against Chell and Wheatley promptly turning her into a potato. Opps-

“But if they were as close as GLaDOS believed them to be, why didn’t she catch Wheatley? After all, it’s not an option to catch him in game.”

Well remember, Chell has only just met him at this point, so it’s fair that she doesn’t immediately trust him with what she’s been through. Not to mention that the last time that a core was dropped, it was a trap.

Though, I believe after that, she realized he was sincere and steadily warmed up to him. It’s never an option to drop him whenever you pick him up, after all. Now granted, you can’t progress if you could drop him down a pit, but I think characterwise we can assume that she’s just unwilling to do so, regardless of how useful he was to her in those instances.

Furthermore, I think she grew to trust him throughout chapters 3, 4, and 5, as again, she very willingly followed his lead and had faith that he would help bust her out, waiting patiently for him to do so.

Sure, she diverted a bit to flesh out his plan some [although if you wait long enough at the turret assembly line, he does tell you what to do, so this could be another instance of her following his lead without question, though I like to think because of her problem solving skills that she does it herself, but either way!], but it’s still his plan that she’s trusting him with regardless.

Plus, I think Wheatley being as casual with her as he was during chapter 5 is implication that they both felt safe with each other at that point. At least, as safe as you can feel when hiding from a pissed off over powered blood lusting AI while being forced to wander around in the dark with only a flashlight to guide you.

And yet she kept him at arm's length by not speaking to him. I doubt it was anything personal against him though, so much as it's become a long time habit and way of protecting herself at this point. So long as they were both still in Aperture, anything could happen. So to her, keeping an emotional distance from him and not verbally responding was probably the safest bet.

That, however, was what made it so easy for GLaDOS to destroy their partnership. The lack of communication would ultimately lead Wheatley to believe that Chell did not appreciate all his help, that she agreed with her even.

Chell's shutting him out ultimately led to a self fulfilling prophecy.

Welp, this took all fucking day to write, but here we go. Hope this made sense. This is just my interpretation, so take it with a grain of salt. Hope it was a fun read either way, and if I’m mistaken on something, feel free to let me know. ^^

Edit: Fixed some grammar and other mistakes, elaborated on some points, aaaaand gave credit to the little snippit of the low risk human acquisitionthing siiiince I did not get that myself-))

#Outta this World {OOC}#Learn a bit more About Them {Headcanon}#We do What We Must {Aperture Science}#this took foreveeerrrrr-

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obiyuki-beebs · 4 years

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CH 116 thoughts / discussion

mkah spoiler / discussion and no cut.

I’m going back to thinking about the 115 post (reblogged directly below this one or in the obiyuki content page on my blog) I did and how that bottle is just like the one Touka Bergatt told his brothers “wont work on him”. So now we know that this bottle of perfume (and is perfume, not poison as I had previously thought) that is basically hypnotic pheromone juice. Touka apparently cannot be influenced by it. Was that what was used to lure in and kill Touka��s father? I think so.

Remember in the early days (ch. 28) when Mitsuhide smelled that smashed potion and went nuts over Zen for a chapter?

While it may not be the same potion, it does have similar hypnotic properties. This potion is described by Garack as being associated to what we are thinking of at the time, or more particularly, producing a strong reaction to a deeply held loyalty (a type of love). Mitsuhide is worried about Zen, who he already has a strong relationship with. This potion seems to have enhanced feelings that were already there.

That was the same instance that was used as the final test for Shirayuki’s court herbalist apprenticeship, which she passed. I think that counts as a strong memory that may influence this arc as well if she and Ryuu recall the test in their brainstorming and investigation.

We did not get a name for the plant, and it is simply referred to as the blue flower drug. While I’m not supposing Sorata was planting an easter egg so early, I do think she may be using a similar premise of hypnotic (at the very least).

Back to 116....

You can see in this depiction of Yozumi that his eyes are blank. We get confirmation that he was hypnotized, but I think we should remember this look for future encounters as it provides insight to the effect the perfume has.

After she hits him to get him away, he looks shaken. Shirayuki sees how strongly his emotion is affected by this. Yozumi is tearing up with obvious pain in his eyes. What happened to his lover? He asks repeatedly for Shirayuki to leave, facing away from her, clearly fighting the hypnotic temptation. Look at his face in the next image. Why is he so distraught? What about his lover and the perfume are so upsetting? This might also provide some insight on why he’s so protective of the perfume bottle. Is it all he has left of his lover? Did she die? Missing? Was he betrayed?

“I took it with me in secret.”

Did he steal the perfume from her?

Yozumi -- who will not name his lover but we can almost definitely infer is Mm. Liera or in some way connected to her -- reacts to some of the perfume that Shirayuki placed on her collar. This means that the perfume is not the same as the potion described in ch 28, so is it the same plant in a different formulation? Or is it a different plant that also has hypnotic effects?

(as a side note, I wonder how effective washing out the perfume is? Washing off of your skin, sure, fool proof that eventually the substance will be gone. But with fabric? It might be much more difficult to clean. Maybe Shirayuki is using the pepper Ryuu gave her to wash her collar? If there is somehow leftover potion on her clothes, will some unsuspecting gentleman get a whiff of trace potion and be swayed to make a move? I would like to see shirayuki in proximity to obi for this hypothetical... this whole paragraph seems silly now that I’m editing but I’m leaving it).

“When I was beside him, he seemed like he was in pain.”

Emotional pain? Physical pain?

Yozumi seems to have been ‘addicted’ to his lover by means of this perfume, and describes withdrawal symptoms when he was separated from her for more than a few days.

Withdrawal -- physical withdrawal -- is serious and a sign that the body has become accustomed to a stimulus, that being in contact with the stimulus is the bodies new normal.

However..... I’m not sure how closely we are supposed to compare that to withdrawal in the real world. I (used to) work in healthcare and still think like a nurse... I can’t help but apply that line of thought when Shirayuki is also a health care professional. Court Herbalist seems to cover sides of modern nursing and modern pharmacy. I think it’s more likely that the perfume is a vehicle for manipulation -- a lure for an assassin to exploit -- rather than so severely addictive that it incapacitates someone.

That being said, Yozumi is still addicted to the smell of the perfume. Addiction psyche will often have you rationalize and seek out the source of your addiction, even if you know it’s the wrong thing to do. Will he try to seek his lover out? Is she alive? Is she a villain!? All I’m sure of is that she is associated with the Bergatt scheme (re same bottle, etc), and is part of the untrustworthy faction in the North that will try to reclaim Wilant and its territories.

Can Yozumi be trusted out and about? Lol no. Probably not. Who does he kinda look like? Obi bb..... Spy time? Will the knights ball be a masquerade?! WILL OBI AND SHIRAYUKI GO TOGETHER WEARING MASKS?! ahem I hope so. With close proximity dance & perfume. I hope we get some Obi x Shirayuki confronting the tension between them. Maybe the perfume / knights ball will be the catalyst?

Then. Yozumi is contacted by someone he has never met and invited to meet, and this woman has the same scent. This woman is connected to the original lover, and whoever supplies the ‘perfume.’ Probably the Bergatts and their loyalists. This encounter with the perfume alerted Yozumi that he should be suspicious of the lover and the scent, which catches us up to the present and why he has come to see court herbalists.

So this perfume ... basically makes people horny .....there’s going to be a ton of temptation shit going on and I am so here for it.

this post is already so long ...... my arthritis is so bad rn but I’m so pumped about the chapter I’m popping 800 mg ibuprofen and trucking on thank you so much for reading up to this point

So ... the identity of the lover. We know she is high born, and is the daughter of a Viscount. We can assume she’s from the North. There seems to be a network of women working with and / under Mm. Liera to tempt and manipulate chosen parties (Yozumi, Touka’s Father, etc).

Shirayuki and Ryuu plan to send their observations to the pharmacists of Lyrias, with “people they can trust.” Eisetsu became a little more suspicious to me in this chapter. His reaction to people we can trust was odd when you reflect on it, especially after he OBVIOUSLY LIES ABOUT KNOWING MM LIERA at the end of the chapter. Obi can tell that Eisetsu is hiding something.

Bullet points from here on out because handswristselbowsandshoulders are literally on fire haha arthritis !!!!!

Other thoughts:

I wonder what Mitsuhide and Kiki were talking about on their walk in the woods? How curious. Maybe they are discussing the state of the North and theorizing similar to how we are? IS THIS META SORATA (p not)

I love the interaction between Ryuu and Shirayuki when she has finished washing off the perfume and she thanks Ryuu for coming with her and Obi ... happy family ... peers who trust ... coworker you can rely on .. ♡(｡- ω -)

lol Eisetsu “vetoed” but I mean he seemed to get a clue after Yozumi mentioned her being from a Viscount family.

Another suspicious Eisetsu moment ... Does he know who Yozumi Iriz is? Apparently so.

I might be totally off base in suspecting Eisetsu. Maybe he’s one of the good guys. It’s too early to just explicitly trust, especially in a part of the country that is known to be hostile to ProWistalFamily. I am pretty back and forth about if I trust him, though. I want to. I think he’s funny and that he seems genuinely good. But idk. My hackles are raised.

It brought me SUCH JOY that Obi came back after the rains, with the flowers blooming. (((o(*°▽°*)o)))

Wasn’t that little agreement clap between Shirayuki and Eisetsu much like the high five that Obi and Shirayuki do? Maybe Yuki did that to put herself at ease, almost like she too is trying to trust Eisetsu.

d r a m a ? ? ! !

People are covering for Mm. Liera and her crew. They are associated and probably working closely with the Bergatt loyalists. What will be next?

We will hear more about the upcoming Knight’s Ball

More research conducted on effect of perfume and its properties

Will it be related to the blue plant from ch 28?

Will a spy be sent to Lyrias to intercept research on the perfume? This is more of my Hackles Incorporated TM business mentioned before re Eisetsu and if he can be trusted.

BACK TO WAITING!

<3 beebs <3

#ans ch 116 #ans spoilers #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #obi x shirayuki #ans #akagami no shirayukihime #obyuki

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yumeka36 · 5 years

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WARNING: MAJOR FROZEN 2 SPOILERS AHEAD

The ending for Frozen 2 was leaked last night and I wanted to post my thoughts.

–IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED, SKIP THIS POST AND DO NOT READ FURTHER–

But if you’ve also read the leaks and want to know what I think, proceed…

*************************************

In less than two days of me posting this where I describe the apprehension I have about learning the plot of Frozen 2, possibly in less than a week due to the merchandise release on the 4th, and how my fandom may dwindle if the ending doesn’t satisfy me and Disney offers no certainty of future sequels, the ending of the movie was suddenly leaked last night. I won’t post the pictures but you can find the link here if you want to see.

As expected, fan reactions have been mostly negative, but some more positive and some trying to be neutral until we have more information. I’ve read through many comments and understand the emotions on all sides @justlookatthosesausages @hereisisa @tenshichan1013 @breckstonevailskier @basssuperpower @jabs-wocks @beingpassionateabout @bigfrozenfan @mike5579-t3a I had to take some time to get my thoughts together and let the shock process in my mind. But my initial reaction was and still is, yes, I’m disappointed now, but I don’t want to throw in the towel until I see the movie myself, or at least learn more information from other sources that describe the plot a bit better, like some of the books that will release on the 4th. What we have in these leaked pages is very vague and begs tons of questions: What are the “sacrifices” each of them has to make? Is going their separate ways the sacrifice, or something else? How do they destroy the dam? Can’t Elsa just easily destroy it with a bunch of ice pillars? I can’t imagine just destroying a dam would be the big, epic conclusion. What is Pabbie’s “prophecy”? In the trailer he just tells Elsa to find who’s calling her, we didn’t see him prophesize anything. The leaks say that Elsa leaves Anna and Olaf, but where are Kristoff and Sven when all this is going on? I can understand Elsa being the only one who can cross the sea but why would Anna have to be totally alone for her journey? How does the dam harm the Northuldra and how would King Runeard benefit from it? What is the “curse” exactly and why is it now becoming a problem as opposed to the 3 years after the events of the first movie? There are many more questions than answers that the leaks provide, which shows how we really need more information to judge the quality of this ending.

But yes, the major facts that we do learn are Anna becomes queen of Arendelle and Elsa becomes the fifth spirit/Snow Queen. But again, there are just so many things we still don’t know: what does being the “fifth spirit” even mean? Is she just gonna hang out in the enchanted forest all day doing…what? Does the “Snow Queen” mean the queen of the Northuldra? Of Ahtohallan? Of the other four spirits? Of the world in general? The leak fails to mention where Elsa will be residing in the end. Being with the other spirits in the enchanted forest makes sense, but if she’s the fifth one who’s supposed to be the bridge between the two worlds, it would make more sense if she’s somewhere different, like maybe just living in her ice palace between Arendelle and Northuldra. Heck, wouldn’t it be funny if she ends up staying in Arendelle with Anna after all, and the reason Anna becomes queen is because Elsa can’t be the queen of both worlds so she decides she’s more fit for being the Snow Queen. Or she’s just too busy doing “fifth spirit” stuff to rule a kingdom…again, until we know what kind of duties being a spirit entails, confirming her status at the end of the movie is still very up in the air. But the bottom line is that there’s no inference that they won’t be able to see each other again even if they end up living in separate places. Now that there’s peace between the two lands, that’s even more reason to conclude that they can freely visit each other whenever they want. The leaks state that Anna and Elsa are the ones who create the bridge between the two worlds…isn’t that what bridges are for, keeping people together? @taniahylian I also have to wonder what this will mean for Frozen’s representation at Disney Parks - I think this is the first time such popular characters have gone through such a radical change in canon material (since this is their only official sequel beside Rescuers Down Under and Wreck-It Ralph, and even the direct to video sequels didn’t have this level of change) so representing Anna and Elsa the way they have in Disney Parks, with Elsa being the queen of Arendelle, their outfits, etc., will become obsolete, plus Frozen 2 merchandise will clash with merchandise from the first movie, so will they get rid of the old stuff? I’m really curious how Disney Parks will address this, if they feel the need to.

One part of the leak that made me a little nervous is that Elsa has “transformed” in the end, which leads to Anna changing her role. I’m assuming it means more of a figurative transformation and not to the extent that she’s no longer human or becomes immortal or takes the form of that snowflake compass in the movie poster. Anything that infers that Anna can no longer interact with her normally would be terrible…that’s an ending for an anime, not a Disney movie!

But personally I think we’ll see a more happier ending like what I mentioned earlier where they’ll still see each other and have their same relationship, just not live together. I recall something Jennifer Lee said at D23 Expo where she said “nothing will ever be the same” and then, more lightly, “but some things will” which I feel illustrates this kind of ending. But we also have to wonder about the fate of the other main characters: will Olaf end up staying with Anna or Elsa? And the leaks say nothing about Kristoff and the engagement ring, which makes sense since it’s from a book focused purely on the mythology of the movie, so we have to wonder if Anna ends up accepting his proposal or not, and if she does, does that make him king or prince consort? If Disney intends to make this the final installment of the Frozen franchise, I can’t imagine them leaving Anna and Kristoff’s relationship so open ended (the elsanna fans are already disappointed, at least satisfy the kristanna fans, lol). I’m kind of imagining an epilogue that, after we get solid confirmation that they’ll be able to visit each other freely in their separate lands whenever they want, we get a scene after the end credits, maybe 5+ years later, of Anna and Kristoff visiting Elsa in the enchanted lands (of course Olaf and Sven are there too), and after a heartfelt reunion, they show her a baby and say “we thought you’d like to see your niece/nephew,” then que scenes of all of them playing and hanging out together. I think this route of closing Anna’s relationship with both Elsa and Kristoff while still reinforcing their togetherness and family dynamic would satisfy me.

To conclude, I agree with many others that this was definitely not my first choice for an ending and would have preferred this be the ending of Frozen 3, with Frozen 2 focusing on Anna and Elsa getting to know each other as sisters. But at the same time, this does not mean it will be bad. As I described in this post, there are way too many details we don’t know to make major claims like “Elsa and Anna won’t be together” and “Elsa becomes a goddess.” It does seem like the separation ending is a new trend, or perhaps it’s just coincidence that Frozen 2 is following Ralph 2 and Toy Story 4 which also had this kind of ending. I recall an article from a while back stating that Jennifer Lee and team planned the ending of Frozen 2 first before the rest of the story, so maybe this is really the route they wanted without any big corporate suits pulling the strings (Jennifer Lee is the head of Disney Animation after all). I’m now more interested than ever to see that Frozen 2 documentary on Disney+ to understand why she chose this ending. Even if books released on the 4th shed more light, seeing the movie for real with all its many details in dialogue, character interactions and expressions, visual illustration of plot and setting, etc., is the only way to make true judgement. I’m hopeful I won’t have to eat these words two months from now~

#frozen 2 spoilers #frozen2 #frozen 2

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kookiemydream · 4 years

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BTS reaction → you miss them whilst they’re on tour

paring: bts x reader

warnings: crying if that triggers you, swearing!

genre: little bit of angst, fluff

a/n: bro omg the final livestream had me SHOOK.

ask box | about me

↠ kim seokjin.

“Y/n? What are you still doing up? I swear it’s like really late where you are right now?” Jin said as soon as he picked up the phone

The silence that met him was enough for him to excuse himself from the rest of the boys and talk to you privately. He heard you sniffle which gave him the hint that you were crying.

“I just miss you, that’s all.” you replied softly, slightly embarrassed about the fact that you had to call him to feel at ease

“I know love, I miss you too.” Jin felt his heart break “But there’s not long now! Only two more weeks, and I’ll be home!

You nodded even though he couldn't see it. Hearing his voice was the comfort you needed, and Jin knew that.

So that’s why he carried on talking to you, telling you about the concerts and interviews they've had so far. He carried on talking until he heard a soft snore come from the other end of the line, signalling to him that you were asleep.

He whispered a ‘I love you so much’ before hanging up the phone, being comforted himself that you were okay.

↠min yoongi

When Yoongi got a text from you that read: ‘Can we talk’ his mind went straight the worst case scenario. Were you going to break up with him? Were you going to leave him for someone better? Were you dying?

Without hesitation, he pressed your name to call you, not even bothering to answer the text. When you eventually picked up after a few rings, he could instantly tell that something was off.

Usually, you’d greet him with a bright hello and maybe a question to follow about his day or what he was doing at that moment. Instead he got a small ‘hi’ and then nothing. That for Yoongi, was a massive red flag.

“What’s up baby? What did you want to talk about?” He attempted to break the ice just a little, just so you would feel more comfortable talking.

“I just needed to hear your voice. Is that okay?” you replied, putting the scenarios Yoongi had created to an abrupt end. “You might be busy I know, It’s stupid of me-”

Your boyfriends small chuckling cut you off “Y/n honey, don't you understand that you’re my first priority? You come first. Always.”

And so you talked. Him being all night. You being all day.

↠jung hoseok

“I think you should talk to her Hoseok.” his sister told him through the phone after seeing you today “She looks lost somehow. I don’t think she’s coping well with you being gone. And I don’t blame her!”

Hoseok sighed worriedly “I’ll talk to her I promise, thank you Jiwoo.”

He hung up the phone to her before switching to the skype app, thumb instantly tapping on your name. As much as it affected you him being away, it also affected him too. He would want nothing more than to snuggle up with you right now.

But obviously he didn’t have that luxury at this moment.

The first thing that Hoseok realised when the line did connect is that his sister was right. You looked like you hadn’t slept in days and at some point in that hour you had been crying which could be inferred from the redness of your eyes.

“Hey gorgeous!” He smiled lightly, just the sight of you making him feel more at home.

You copied his grin and replied “Hi Hobi.”

“So I heard you went to go see my sister today and apparently you didn’t look too well? Is everything alright my love?”

“Y-yeah! Everything is fine.” you bit your lip, avoiding any eye contact.

“Y/n.” Hoseok said deeply “Don’t lie to me. I know when something is playing on your mind, angel.” He watched take your sleeve and wipe your under eyes.

“I’m struggling Hobi.” You finally sighed “Everyday, I think of how you’re not here and it makes me so fucking sad.” Your eyes quickly filled up with tears again.

“Oh honey. I miss you more than words can say.” His eyes didn’t leave the screen as you got up to get a tissue. When you came back he started again. “When I come back, we’re gonna go somewhere, just you and me.”

“Really?” you asked curiously.

“Absolutely. I’ll make you happy again, I promise.”

And Hoseok never breaks his promises.

↠kim namjoon

“There’s my beautiful princess!” Namjoon exclaimed as your face finally popped up on his screen. You grinned, rolling yours eyes at the pet name he had given you. “How you doing love?”

“It’s been okay I guess!” You answered while your eyes automatically scanned the empty apartment you were left with.

“What do you mean ‘i guess?’ Is something wrong?”

Seeing your boyfriends furrowed eyebrows on your screen made you chuckle “Yeah it’s just, I get lonely a lot more now. The house is pretty quiet without something breaking. You winked and laughed when he held his chest, as if you had shot him right in the heart.

“Y/nn, that was a low blow! I’m not that clumsy!” He yelled comedically.

“Yes you are!” You screamed back, still laughing at his expression. You both giggled and joked for a bit longer before his manager told him it was ready to go rehearse.

Before you both said goodbye and hung up he interrupted with a: “Y/n.”

“Yes, Joon?”

“I love you. I’ll be home soon, so just hang on for a little longer okay?”

You nodded “I will love.”

↠park jimin

When Jimin received a notification that you had sent him a video, his heart warmed at the thought of seeing your face again. However, when he saw that you were crying in it his heart did anything but warm.

Quickly, he punched the play button and painfully watched how your face screwed up with sadness.

“Hey baby, um I know this is kinda sad and stuff but.” Your voice broke and you quickly wiped your eyes. “I really miss you. Like REALLY really. I hate to admit it, but im struggling without you here. I just need to hear you. To smell you. To touch you. I miss your cuddles and your laugh. I just miss everything.”

You looked down from the camera, trying to hide your shame and embarrassment. Jimin sighed sadly as the video came to an abrupt end. Without even any hesitation whatsoever he got up the camera up and started to record himself.

“Hey beautiful, listen to me okay? You’re being so strong for the both of us right now and you don’t know how proud I am of you. Don’t get me wrong, I miss you so so so much but when we do see each other, it’ll be so much more special. Please carry on living your life. I’ll call you when the show is over. Not many shows now princess! I’ll be home soon!”

↠kim taehyung

“Yeontan!” Tae called over the phone, trying to get the puppies attention “Yeontan! It’s daddy! Look!” You laughed as your boyfriend waved frantically at the phone screen.

“I think he’s confused Tae.” you replied in exchanged of the dog “I don’t think he’s grasped the basics of technology yet!”

Taehyung giggled lightly “Ahhh I miss him so much, you don’t even know!”

“Oh I see.” You pouted “You don’t miss me at all then.” You comedically put your head in your hands and pretended to wipe a tear from your eyes. You saw Taehyung roll his eyes and smirk at your poor acting skills.

“Come on baby, you already know how much I miss you!” He put the screen closer to his face “I just wanna kiss those beautiful cheeks of yours.”

Now it was his turn to pout as he realised just how far both you and Yeontan were from him. The lack of cuddles and kisses you were missing out on really took a toll on you both. However you stayed strong for each other. That was the healthy thing to do.

“Only a couple days! And then you can kiss these cheeks as much as you want!” For more an effect, you squished both your cheeks together.

He laughed at how funny it made your face look before slowly quieting down and staring at you. You almost definitely noticed how silent he suddenly turned

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“No, I just can't wait to see you. Please don’t let Tannie forget about me, okay?”

“Trust me, it’d be pretty hard to forget you my love.”

↠jeon jungkook

When Jungkook had heard from one of his hyungs that they had gotten a really upsetting call with a extremely stressed you on the other end of the line, he wasn’t too thrilled.

He almost felt insulted that you, his girlfriend of two years, still wasn’t comfortable telling him what was wrong when you had an issue that was bothering you .

You knew you should’ve gone to him first. That was why your heart dropped when you saw his contact picture pop up on your screen, as you knew exactly why he was calling your phone.

“Y/n?” he greeted you immediately as soon as you accepted the call “What’s going on? Why did i have to hear from Namjoon - hyung that you were struggling? Why couldn’t you have just told me yourself?”

His tone of voice was stern but also dashed with slight worry. You knew he was lecturing you because he cared about you and he wanted you to feel comfortable. However you didn’t want to show your weakness so easily. You wanted to show that you were strong.

“I’m sorry Kookie.” you mumbled quietly, too ashamed to explain yourself properly.

You heard Jungkook sigh “I’m not angry at you pumpkin, it’s just frustrating that you’re hurting and i’m a thousand miles away. I just want to help you. But you need to open up for me to do that. Think you can do that bubba?”

You nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you “I just miss you. I thought that maybe it might be a stupid reason to call you and cry about it so that’s why I went to Namjoon. I’m sorry baby.”

“Y/n, please don’t feel like your feelings are stupid. They’re so important so if you’re ever feeling sad or angry or anything like that, please call me. I love helping you. Because I love you. And I miss you more than words could ever say.”

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

“I adore you more. Y/n Y/L/N.”

tell me what you think!

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randomnameless · 4 years

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Thinking about that last post, the famous battle convo during chapter 17 of CF and the hidden books, I find the history behind the Empire’s creation fascinating.

Like, an immortal being helps a puny human to create his Empire - puny human dies but the immortal being doesn’t oversee it in stead of the puny human, nope, she isn’t even a seer or whatever (or we don’t know…? Rhea used to be there for new coronations, but given how the Empire said fig to the Church, what is their relationship? Is the Empire subservient to the Church, or the inverse, Rhea was just here for, uh “tradition”, putting some oil and tasty leaves on the new Emperor’s head then she’s escorted out?). Puny humans rule themselves and say fig to the immortal being.

Was the Empire created “first” and it decided to help the Church* to consolidate its power, fighting Nemesis not because it’s Seiros’ personal quest, but because Nemesis is preventing the Empire to dominate Fodlan?

Or was it a bunch of randoms who supported Seiros during her quest and reaped the benefits (suddenly those lands aren’t ruled by anyone, let’s rule them ourselves)?

The hidden book about the Calendar lampshades this, did Wilhelm change the calendar because it’d help create the Church, or did he change the calendar to assert his authority and Rhea thought she could use this vector to further her religion?

Funny to note that despite the prevalence of the Church of Seiros in its birth, the Empire is not a theocracy - which is kind of odd, if the ruling line descends from the prophet Seiros, why should they even listen to the Church led by a random (Rhea with wig)?

It wasn’t totally merged, maybe Rhea couldn’t give three figs about ruling Adrestia, maybe Lycaon I thought that as rad as Seiros was, he will inherit Dad’s Empire and not her (but then, did he knew about the blood pact or he thought she was his mom or something) ?

What we know :

Rhea’s upset having to fight Wilhelm’s scion even if she swore to kill her back then in the Holy Tomb

One of Rhea’s golems protecting her during the final map of CF is called Wilhelm

On Rhea’s side, she might have been fond of Wilhelm - he was her friend (?), she rewrites history calling him “Great Emperor Wilhelm” and for all of her reservations about using Sothis’ mere name, she doesn’t mind lending Seiros’ image to the Empire history, even if it leads to her having fictional (?) descendants**. But when the Empire decides to cut its ties, she doesn’t react (or we don’t know but there is no mention in the game that the Church despises the Empire or took any proactive action against them because they kicked the southern branch away).

Wilhelm doesn’t have a recorded death, but he gave his all to the cause of defeating Nemesis - it could be infered that he gave his life to kill Nemesis (and it failed!)

Edel knows from the imperial telephone that Wilhelm helped Lizards

Wilhelm’s calendar uses/endorses Seirosist (??) notions with all of the moons involved

The Emperors used to be coronated by the Church

The Church mediated between Loog and the Empire who just lost their head (iirc Loog killed the Emperor during the OG battle of the Eagles and the Lions?)

Some stuff happened and the Empire kicked out the Southern branch

At one point the Church and the Empire were cosy - like really working together, then they separated, but the Church still had some importance (a southern branch, a ceremonial at least). Then the Empire cut all of its ties to the Church and the rest happens in the game.

* Church here refers the the Church of Seiros, since we know that before Seiros there used to be several churches, at least in Enbarr given how Seteth met his wife there - I suppose they were worshipping Sothis. Is Rhea’s version of the cult more of a twist of the ancient cult or something else altogether just keeping the name of the goddess? It also means that if there used to be a religion about Sothis (Sothisism) it wasn’t as respected or implemented in society because Nemesis and the Dudes saw #nothingwrong with pillaging her remains and rekting her children… So it might be another reason why Seirosism was more institutionalised than Sothisism, not that we have any clues on what the fig was going before the Seiros era because IS hates us

**Seteth hates raunchy novels and destroys the ones involving his sister, so what was his reaction when he read the book of Seiros “the Hresvelg descend from Seiros herself” was he “WTF” or “Flayn has cousins and I never noticed??”

#FE16 #Adrestia Great Again #or how Adrestia became Great #or how Adrestia started great then fell #It's not a theocracy though #did the Emperors had some salt that they weren't the number 1 authority on civil and religious matters? they descend from Seiros FFS!#and rhea was 'uh no but shit i said yes earlier'#i was actually re-reading something a bit similar with an otherworldy being helping a random form his empre #empire shit #but the otherwordly being stayed in place as some sort of seer/high priest/sacerdos maxima stuff #Seiros/Rhea was incredibly hands off on the Empire after its creation #was she kicked out of it after the war with Nemesis ended or did she abandon them to isolate herself in Sothis' tomb?#and then she came out 70 years later with a wig to assume the role of the first archbishop #??#idk #Seteth burning raunchy novels will never cease to be funny #Dude you have Sylvain #if you want to protect Flayn's innocence burn him instead #Fire emblem three houses

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rosedapple · 4 years

Text

Original WLW Coffee Shop Story

So last month I suggested to Em ( @halfwaytotomorrow aka @sheriffofmagic ) that we do a wlw story exchange–so we each write a short (2k words) wlw love story for the other (we gave each other a few different prompt options we were thinking about). I ended up writing a coffee shop story for her. Here it is:

Sara looked up as she heard the *bling* of the door as it opened–hoping whoever entered would save her from her boredom. When working at Starbucks was a part-time gig, it wasn’t so bad, but now as her main job she spent a lot more time waiting around.

“Mads, you gotta come out with us sometime! Everyone’s saying they haven't seen you in forever! I know you’re busy with grad school but you still have like two more years of it. You can take one evening to come to a karaoke bar or hang out at Allie’s or something.”

Two girls had entered–one who was a bit taller than Sara with straight blonde hair up in a ponytail, wearing a light sweatshirt, yoga pants, and ugg boots–exactly what you might expect of a stereotypical early 20’s white girl. Not that that was a bad thing, but it was common enough at Starbucks that Sara ended up focusing on the other girl, the one who wasn’t talking. The second girl, “Mads,” was short with curly brown hair, dark circles under her hazy blue eyes that seemed unable to focus on anything for more than a couple of seconds. Her gaze was constantly shifting–up to the menu, over to her friend, down at her phone–until they made it up to the counter where Sara was waiting to take their orders. “Mads” looked at her phone, up at Sara, then back at her phone, but as her friend ordered, she seemed to do a double-take back at Sara.

They made eye-contact this time, Sara having noted the first girl’s order and intending to take the second girl’s, but the second their eyes met, Sara’s gay heart started to pound in her ears. There goes her boredom.

Madison hadn’t really wanted to go to Starbucks–she was more of a black coffee or tea girl anyway and why would she pay for something she could make herself for much cheaper and in less time if she’s already home or at the lab–but Lizzy had insisted, guilting her into a brief meetup since Madison had missed her birthday party last weekend. So, here she was, in a Starbucks with a friend who she barely spoke to anymore, attempting smalltalk, scanning twitter, and trying to figure out how to order a black coffee. When Lizzy walked up to the counter to order, Madison slightly behind her still trying to understand the menu, Madison glanced at the barista–a taller, darker skinned girl, her long hair in braids with the ends dyed hot pink. For a second she glanced back down at her phone as she processed the girl behind the counter, looking back up almost immediately, meeting the girl’s dark eyes that seemed to pierce into her soul–not in a creepy way but rather with an anxiety and astonishment that mirrored the thoughts going through Madison’s head.

This girl was pretty, in a way that made Madison’s worries about her lab work and her dissertation float away on the wings of the butterflies that took up residence in her stomach. Not only did her worries float away, but so did her words. Lizzy had made her order, and the barista did seem to have taken it down, though it was hard to tell since Madison was only looking at her face, and so it was Madison’s turn to order. She opened her mouth and nothing came out.

“Um, hi. What can I get for you?” As the girl spoke, Madison’s eyes drifted down to her lips, and then down to the green apron which held her name tag. Sara. Her name was Sara. Not spelled the Hebrew way, unfortunately, which did mean Sara probably wasn’t Jewish, but that was fine. Her family wasn’t one to care about that custom anyway. Madison barely did anything religion-based anyway. The girl–Sara–was staring at her. Right. Her order. Madison still needed to order.

“Um, hi... can I just get a...” She’d intended to order a black coffee but caffeine was a distant need now. “Uh, can I get a... venti... tea? Please?” And your number too? She wanted to ask, but it was always in poor taste to ask someone out at their workplace, and that was not the mood she wanted to set.

“Sure. Name for the order?”

“Madison.”

“Great. Coming right up.”

Madison let out a puff of air, trying to realign herself in such a way to be able to continue whatever dumb conversation she’d been having with Lizzy, though she still kept glancing at the barista, whose name she now knew to be Sara, who was now working on their orders in the mostly empty coffee shop.

The girl was staring at her. Sara could feel it like the heart that was still beating so hard in her ears that it had been difficult to hear Madison’s order. Only her years of experience in customer service had made her able to speak in full sentences, though the fact that she wasn’t the only one who seemed shaken gave her hope. Sara absentmindedly made the orders, smiling softly to herself and thinking about Madison. Would it be creepy to write her number on Madison’s cup? Like, yolo, right, and it’s not like Madison knew who she was besides working here. But... Madison could also complain to management or on twitter... but she seemed nervous–not the type to complain in person or online. What if she decides by the reaction when Madison comes to get her order? Yeah, that’s what she’ll do.

She called up the friend first–Lizzy–both because she’d ordered first, but also because then she can see Madison’s body language before she’s called up. Lizzy jumps right up, totally unaffected or unaware of the emotional turmoil going on around her.

“Hey, I can bring my friend Madison’s order, too, if hers is ready.”

Think, Sara, think. “Um, thanks for the offer but I haven’t done hers yet. Enjoy your coffee.”

Lizzy looked at her funny but took her frappuccino and went to sit down. Sara snuck a peek at Madison, who looked a little red in the face–could be a good-nervous blush... could be an anxiety thing too, though. If it was an anxiety thing... would just writing her number down be good so that way Madison could have control over the situation? Or would that just be a recipe for never seeing her again since there was no way Sara could reach out? Or is that just setting healthy boundaries? The different scenarios kept going ‘round and ‘round in Sara’s head. She just would have to decide something. If she did nothing, then there was absolutely no chance. Sara knew she had to make the first move because if Madison did, then Sara wouldn’t want to even try. Hitting on someone while they were at work was just a recipe for disaster because of the power imbalance. Tea wasn’t hard to make, though, so Sara could only delay for so long. At the last second, she decided to be bold and write her number down with a smiley face on the cup.

“Madison?” Madison jumped up, already on the edge of her seat even while she zoned out, going through a fast-forward daydream courtesy of the infatuation and attraction she was feeling toward Sara, but she snapped back into focus at the sound of Sara’s voice, and she could feel the blush starting on her face. Luckily she had to turn away from Lizzy to go up the counter, but that also meant that Sara could see her red face and maybe make inferences from it. But... maybe that was a good thing?

As Madison walked up to the counter, she made eye contact with Sara again and almost stopped because of how wobbly her knees became in that moment. She wasn’t wearing heels, but her legs were just as unsteady as they usually were the few times she had worn heels. Each step was both agony and ecstasy as she made her way towards her crush.

“Hi.”

“Here you go,” Sara said with a shy smile, which Madison then returned.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I hope I got your order right.” Sara winked and nodded down to the cup. Madison looked down at the cup and saw not just her name and order but also a phone number. Madison’s smile went from nervously shy to “I don’t want to share this moment with anyone else” shy, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You... you did indeed. You even got what I didn’t actually say.”

This time it was Sara’s turn to blush brilliantly and tuck some hair back nervously.

“Well, I knew I had to make the first move. And worst case scenario I could play it off like I just wanted to be your friend.”

Madison broke out into a huge grin. “I-I... um... when do you get off work?”

Sara chuckled. “In about an hour. So can I take that as you will text me?”

Madison giggled–”Yeah. I might just wait around for you though since you’ll be done in like an hour.”

“Perfect.”

Madison waved shyly back at Sara as she walked back to Lizzy and to their conversation, excited and nervous, butterflies fluttering up a storm.

Yes! It worked! Madison liked her, and not only that, she was planning to wait and they might end up on a date today!! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date, or gone through the process that painlessly. There was no issue about either of them being in the closet or being cautious in case the other wasn’t gay– just two people who were into each other.

During the last hour of her shift, she kept glancing at Madison who was still sitting there with her friend, blushing and giggling to herself. Occasionally Madison would look up and blush and smile back at her, making her even more excited. About ten minutes before her shift was going to end, Madison’s friend left, so Madison went from sneaking looks to walking right up to the counter.

“Hi- um, do you get off soon?”

“Ha–um–yeah, in like ten minutes. You okay to wait? I do have someone coming for the shift right after me so I don’t have to pack up–just punch out and get my stuff.”

“Great. Um, do you want me to wait here by you or should I go sit back down?”

“Um, it’s up to you. If another customer comes up I’ll have to, like, do my job, but we can probably talk a bit... if you want.”

“Ok–yeah. Um, god I feel awkward.”

“I mean, yeah it is a bit awkward, but like awkward can be cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Sara was blushing so hard. “God I can’t wait to get off work so I can kiss you.”

Now Madison was also blushing. Two blushing gals, flirting awkwardly. A great start.

As soon as the last ten minutes of her shift were up, Sara punched out faster than she ever had before, practically running out of the back, grabbing Madison’s hand and almost dragging her out of there.

“Haha–hey, you don’t have to pull me, you know,” Madison chuckled as they rushed out.

As soon as they were past the store window, Sara pushed Madison up against the wall and kissed her–sparks. Immediate sparks. Sara pulled away slightly and pushed Madison’s hair away from her face.

“Wow. Just... wow.” Madison looked up at Sara, whose chest was heaving from both the exit and the kiss.

“I spent the last hour and a half just imagining doing that with you.”

“I can tell. You... wanna do it again?”

They made out for a few minutes before they heard a wolf-whistle from down the street.

“Um–d’you wanna go somewhere more private?”

“Yeah... do you want to go to my apartment? I can make you a tea that’s way better than what I served you back there.”

Madison laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. Let’s go!”

#wlw #my writing

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