#<- is this comprehensible to anyone else please tell me someone understands this reference | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

innuendostudios · 3 years

Text

youtube

I was invited to give a talk on GamerGate over Zoom in early 2021. I've long been frustrated that there isn't a good timeline of GG and its origins on YouTube. When people ask "what the hell was GG anyway?" they often get referred to my or Dan Olson's videos on the subject, but both of them were made while GG was ongoing, and presumed a degree of familiarity on the part of the audience. There was just too much to say about what was already happening to spend time getting the audience up to speed, and it was safe to assume our audiences had enough context to follow along. But time moves fast on the internet, and many people who now care about such things weren't there while it was happening, and are lacking the necessary context to follow the better videos. For a long time, I've only been able to direct them to RationalWiki's timeline, which is excellent but so exhaustively comprehensive that it's likely to scare off first-timers.

I realize an hourlong lecture isn't necessarily helping matters, but the first 20-or-so minutes of this video are my attempt at streamlining the timeline such that people can be up to speed on the most important stuff fairly quickly. The rest is talking about what it all meant, how it prefigured the Alt-Right, and using it to better understand digital radicalization.

This video was made with the help of Magdalen Rose, who edited the slides to the audio while I was laid up with a back injury. Go sub to her channel! And please back me on Patreon.

Transcript below the cut.

FUCKING VIDEO GAMES? FUCKING VIDEO GAMES. THEY MADE DOZENS OF PEOPLE MISERABLE FOR YEARS OVER VIDEO GAMES! NOT EVEN FUCKING VIDEO GAMES, FUCKING ARTICLES ABOUT FUCKING VIDEO GAMES. THIS IS WHAT PASSES FOR LEGITIMATE GRIEVANCE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT??

Hi! My name is Ian Danskin. I’m a video essayist and media artist. I run the YouTube channel Innuendo Studios, please like share and subscribe.

I’m here to talk to you about GamerGate, and I needed to get all that out of the way. I’m going to talk about what GamerGate was and how it prefigured The Alt-Right, and there are gonna be moments where you’re nodding along with me, going, “yeah, yeah I get it,” and then the sun’s gonna break through a crack in the wall and you’ll suddenly remember that all this is happening because some folks - mostly ladies - said some stuff - provably true stuff, I might add - about video games and a bunch of guys didn’t like it, and you’re gonna want to rip your hair out. By the end of this, you will have a better understanding of what happened, but it will never not be bullshit.

Also, oh my god, content warning. Racism, sexism, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, rape threats, threats of violence, domestic abuse - I’m not going to depict or describe at length any of the worst stuff, but it’s all in the mix. So if at any point you need to switch me off or mute me, you have my blessing.

Brace yourselves.

Some quick prehistory:

In 2012, feminist media critic Anita Sarkeesian ran a Kickstarter campaign for a YouTube series on sexist tropes in video games. And, partway through the campaign, 4chan found it and said “let’s ruin her life.” And a lot of the male general gaming public joined in. And by “ruin her life” I’m not talking 150 angry tweets including dozens of rape and death threats per week, though that was a thing. I’m talking bomb threats. I’m talking canceled speaking engagements because someone threatened to shoot up a school. I’m talking FBI investigation. The harassers faced no meaningful repercussions.

And in 2013, Zoe Quinn released Depression Quest, a free text game about living with depression. They received harassment off and on for the next year, most pointedly from an incel forum called Wizardchan that doxxed their phone number and made harassing phone calls telling them to kill themself. The harassers faced no meaningful repercussions.

(Also, quick note: Zoe Quinn is nonbinary and has come out since the events in question. When I call Zoe’s harassment misogynist, understand I am not calling Zoe a woman, but they were attacked by people who hate women because that’s how they were perceived. Had they been out at the time things probably would’ve gone down similarly, but on top of misogyny I’d be talking about nonbinary erasure and transphobia.)

Okay. Our story begins in August 2014. The August that never ended.

Depression Quest, after a prolonged period on Greenlight, finally releases on Steam as a free download with the option to pay what you want. In the days that follow, Zoe’s ex-boyfriend, Eron Gjoni, writes a nearly 10,000-word blog called The Zoe Post, in which he claims Quinn had been a shitty and unfaithful partner. (For reference, 10,000 words is long enough that the Hugos would consider it a novelette.) This is posted to forums on Penny Arcade and Something Awful, both of which immediately take it down, finding it, at best, a lot of toxic hearsay and, at worse, an invitation to harassment. So Gjoni workshops the post, adds a bunch of edgelord humor (and I am using the word “humor” very generously), and reposts it to three different subforums on 4chan.

We’re not going to litigate whether Zoe Quinn was a good partner. I don’t know or care. I don’t think anyone on this call is trying to date them so I’m not sure that’s our business. What is known is that the relationship lasted five months, and, after it ended, Gjoni began stalking Quinn. Gjoni has, in fact, laid out how he stalked Quinn in meticulous detail to interviewers and why he feels it was justified. It’s also been corroborated by a friend that Quinn briefly considered taking him back at a games conference in San Francisco, but he became violent during sex and Quinn left the apartment in the middle of the night with visible bruises.

Off of the abusive ex-boyfriend’s post, 4chan decides it’s going to make Zoe Quinn one of their next targets, and starts a private IRC channel to plan the campaign. The channel is called #BurgersAndFries, a reference to Gjoni claiming Quinn had cheated on him with five guys. A couple sentences in The Zoe Post - which Gjoni would later claim were a typo - imply that one of the five guys was games journalist Nathan Grayson and that Quinn had slept with him in exchange for a good review of Depression Quest. Given the anger that they’d seen drummed up against women in games with the previous Anita Sarkeesian hate mob, #BurgersAndFries decides to focus on this breach of “ethics in games journalism” as a cover story, many of them howling with laughter at the thought that male gamers would probably buy it. This way, destroying Quinn’s life and career and turning their community against them would appear an unfortunate byproduct of a legitimate consumer revolt; criticism of the harassment could even be framed as a distraction from the bigger issue. Gjoni himself is in the IRC channel telling them that this was the best hand to play.

The stated aim of many on #BurgersAndFries was to convince Quinn to commit suicide.

Two regulars in the IRC, YouTubers MundaneMatt and Internet Aristocrat, make videos about The Zoe Post. Incidentally, both these men had already made a lot of money off videos about Anita Sarkeesian. Matt’s is swiftly taken down with a DMCA claim, and he says that Quinn filed the claim themself. (For the record, in those days, YouTube didn’t tell you who filed DMCA claims against you.) Members of the IRC also reach out to YouTuber TotalBiscuit, who had been critical of Sarkeesian and dismissive of her harassment, and he tweets the story to his 350,000 followers, saying a game developer trading sex for a good review might not prove true, but was certainly plausible.

This is where GamerGate begins to get public traction.

Zoe Quinn is very swiftly doxxed, with their phone number, home address, nudes, and names and numbers of their family collected. Gjoni himself leaks their birth name. The Zoe Post, and the movement against Quinn - now dubbed “The Quinnspiracy” - make it to The Escapist and Reddit, which mods will have little luck removing. The Quinnspiracy declares war on any site that does take their threads down, most vehemently NeoGAF. People who defend Zoe against the harassment start getting doxxed themselves - Fez developer Phil Fish is doxxed so thoroughly, hackers get access to the root folder of his website.

In what I’m going to call This Should Have Been The End, Part 1, Stephen Totilo, Editor-in-Chief at Kotaku where Nathan Grayson worked, in response to pressure not just from The Quinnspiracy but an increasing number of angry gamers buying The Quinnspiracy’s narrative, publishes a story. In it he verifies that Quinn and Grayson did date for several months, and that not only is there no review of Depression Quest anywhere on Kotaku, not by Grayson nor anyone else, but that Grayson did not write a single word about Quinn the entire time they were dating.

In response, The Quinnspiracy declares war on Kotaku. r/KotakuinAction is formed, which will become the primary site of organization outside of chanboards. The fact that their entire “movement” is based on a review that does not exist changes next to nothing.

Some people start to see The Quinnspiracy as potentially profitable. The Fine Young Capitalists get involved, a group ostensibly working to get women into video games but who have a Byzantine plan to do so wherein they crowdfund the budget and the woman who wins a competition gets to storyboard a game, but another company will make and she will get 8% of the profits, the rest going to a charity chosen by the top donor. 4chan becomes the top donor. They like TFYC because the head of the company has a vendetta against Zoe Quinn, who had previously called them out for their transphobic submission policy, and he falsely accused Quinn of having once doxxed him. 4chan feels backing an ostensibly feminist effort will be good PR, but can’t resist selecting a colon cancer charity because, they say, feminism is cancer and they want to be the cure to butthurt. They also get to design a character for the game, and so they create Vivian James, who will become the GamerGate mascot.

Manosphere YouTubers Jordan Owen and Davis Aurini launch a Patreon campaign for their antifeminist documentary The Sarkeesian Effect and come to The Quinnspiracy looking for $15,000 a month for an indefinite period to make it, which they get.

In what will prove genuinely awful timing, Anita Sarkeesian releases the second episode of Tropes vs. Women in Video Games, and, despite not being a games journalist and having nothing to do with Quinn or Grayson, she is immediately roped into the narrative about how feminists are ruining games culture and becomes the second major target of harassment. Both she and Quinn soon have to leave their houses after having receiving dozens and dozens of death threats that include their home addresses.

After being courted by members of the IRC channel, Firefly star Adam Baldwin tweets a link to one of the Quinnspiracy videos and coins the hashtag #GamerGate. This is swiftly adopted by all involved.

In response to all this, Leigh Alexander writes a piece for Gamasutra arguing that the identity that these men are flocking to the “ethics in games journalism” narrative to defend no longer matters as a marketing demographic. Gaming and games culture is so large and so varied, and the “core gamer” audience of 18-34 white bros growing smaller and septic, that there was no reason, neither morally nor financially, to treat them as the primary audience anymore. Love of gaming is eternal, but, she declared, “gamers,” as an identity, “are over.” Eight more articles contextualizing GamerGate alongside misogyny and the gatekeeping of games culture come out across several websites in the following days. GamerGate frames these as a clear sign of [deep sigh] collusion to oppress gamers, proving that ethics in games journalism is, indeed, broken, and Leigh Alexander becomes the third major target of harassment. These become known as the “gamers are dead” articles - a phrase not one of them uses - and they make “get Leigh Alexander fired from Gamasutra” one of their primary goals.

Something I need you to understand is that it has, at this point, been two weeks.

Highlights from the next little bit: Alex Macris, a higher up at The Escapist’s parent company, expresses support for GamerGate; he will go on to write the first positive coverage at a major publication and cement The Escapist as GamerGate-friendly. Mike Cernovich, aka “Based Lawyer,” gets GamerGate’s attention by mocking Anita Sarkeesian; he will go on to hire a private investigator to stalk Zoe Quinn. GamerGate launches Operation Disrespectful Nod, an email campaign pressuring companies to pull advertising from websites that have criticized them. They leverage their POC members, getting them, any time someone points out the rampant racism and antisemitism among GamerGaters, to say “I am a person of color and I am #NotYourShield”; most of these “POC members” are fake accounts left over from a previous, racist disinformation campaign. Milo Yiannapoulos gets involved, writing positive coverage of GG despite having mocked gamers for precisely this behavior in the past, and gets so much traffic it pulls Breitbart News out of obscurity and makes it a significant player in modern conservative news media.

[Hey! Ian from the future here. This talk mostly addresses how GamerGate prefigured the Alt-Right strategically and philosophically, but if you want a more explicit, material connection: Breitbart News took its newfound notoriety to become, as its Executive Chair phrased it in 2016, "a platform for the Alt-Right." That Executive Chair was Steve Bannon, who threw the website's weight behind The Future President Who Shall Not Be Named, and, upon getting his attention, would then go on to become his campaign strategist and work in his Administration. So, if you're wondering how one of the central figures of the Alt-Right ended up in the White House, the answer is literally "GamerGate." Back to you, Ian from the past!]

In what I’m calling This Should Have Been The End, Part 2, Zoe Quinn announces that they have been lurking the #BurgersAndFries IRC channel since the beginning and releases dozens of screenshots showing harassment being planned and the selection of “ethics in games journalism” as a cover. #BurgersAndFries has a meltdown, everyone turns on each other, and the channel is abandoned. And they then start another IRC and things proceed.

It goes on like this. I’m not gonna cover everything. This is just the first month. It should be clear by now that this thing is kind of unkillable. And I worry I haven’t made it obvious that this is not just a chanboard and an IRC. Thousands of regular, every day gamers were buying the story and joining in. They were angry, and no amount of evidence that their anger was unfounded was going to change that. You could not mention or even allude to GamerGate and not get flooded with dozens, even hundreds of furious replies. These replies always included the hashtag so everyone monitoring it could join in, so all attempts at real conversation devolved into a hundred forking threads where some people expected you to talk to them while others hurled insults and slurs. And always the possibility that, if any one of them didn’t like what you said, you’d be the next target.

To combat this, some progressives offered up the hashtag #GameEthics to the people getting swept up in GamerGate, saying, “look, we get that you’re angry, and if you want to talk about ethics in games journalism, we can totally do that, but using your hashtag is literally putting us in danger; they calling the police on people saying there’s a hostage situation at their home addresses so they get sent armed SWAT teams, and if you’ll just use this other hashtag we can have the conversation you say you want to have in safety.” And I will ever stop being salty about what happened.

They refused. They wouldn’t cede any ground to what they saw as their opposition. It was so important to have the conversation on their terms that not only did they refuse to use #GameEthics, they spammed it with furry porn so no one could use it.

A few major events on the timeline before we move on: Christina Hoff Sommers, the Republican Party’s resident “feminist,” comes out criticizing Anita Sarkeesian and becomes a major GG figurehead, earning the title Based Mom. Zoe Quinn gets a restraining order against Eron Gjoni, which he repeatedly violates, to no consequence; GG will later crowdfund his legal fees. There’s this listserv called GameJournoPros where game journalists would talk about their jobs, and many are discussing their concerns over GamerGate, so Milo Yiannopoulos leaks it and this is framed as further “proof of collusion.” 4chan finally starts enforcing its “no dox” rules and shuts GamerGate threads down, so they migrate to 8chan, a site famous for hosting like a lot of child porn. Indie game developer Brianna Wu makes a passing joke about GamerGate on Twitter and they decide, seemingly on a whim, to make her one of the biggest targets in the entire movement; she soon has to leave her home as well. GamerGate gets endorsements from WikiLeaks, Infowars, white nationalist sites Stormfront and The Daily Stormer, and professional rapist RooshV. And hundreds of people get doxxed; an 8chan subforum called Baphomet is created primarily to host dox of GamerGate’s critics.

But by November, GamerGate popularity was cresting, as more and more mainstream media covered it negatively. Their last, big spike in popularity came when Anita Sarkeesian went on The Colbert Report and Stephen made fun of the movement. Their numbers never recovered after that.

Which is not to say GamerGate ended. It slowed down. The period of confusion where the mainstream world couldn’t tell whether it was a legitimate movement or not passed. But, again, most harassers faced no meaningful repercussions. Gamers who bought the lie about “ethics in games journalism” stayed mad that no one had ever taken them seriously, and harassers continued to grief their targets for years. The full timeline of GamerGate is an constant cycle of lies, harassment, operations, grift, and doxxing. Dead-enders are to this day still using the hashtag. And remember how Anita had nothing to do with ethics in games journalism or Zoe Quinn, and they just roped her in because they’d enjoyed harassing her before so why not? Every one of GamerGate’s targets knows that they may get dragged into some future harassment campaign just because. It’s already happened to several of them. They’re marked.

(sigh) Let’s take a breath.

Now that we know what GamerGate was, let’s talk about why it worked.

In the thick of GamerGate, I started compiling a list of tactics I saw them using. I wanted to make a video essay that was one part discussion of antifeminist backlash, and one part list of techniques these people use so we can better recognize and anticipate their behavior. That first part became six parts and the second part went on a back burner. It would eventually become my series, The Alt-Right Playbook. GamerGate is illustrative because most of what would become The Alt-Right Playbook was in use.

Two foundational principles of The Alt-Right Playbook are Control the Conversation and Never Play Defense. Make sure people are talking about what you want them to talk about, and take an aggressive posture so you look dominant even when you’re not making sense. For instance: once Zoe leaked the IRC chatlogs, a reasonable person could tell the average gater, “the originators of GamerGate were planning harassment from the very beginning.” But the gater would say, “you’re cherry-picking; not everyone was a harasser.”

Now, this is a bad argument - that’s not how you use “cherry-picking” - and it’s being framed as an accusation - you’re not just wrong, you’re dishonest - which makes you wanna defend yourself. But, if you do - if you tell them why that argument is crap - you’ve let the conversation move from “did the IRC plan harassment?” - a question of fact - to “are the harassers representative of the movement?” - a question of ethics. Like, yes, they are, but only within a certain moral framework. An ethics question has no provable answer, especially if people are willing to make a lot of terrible arguments. It is their goal to move any question with a definitive answer to a question of philosophy, to turn an argument they can’t win into an argument nobody can win.

The trick is to treat the question you asked like it’s already been answered and bait you into addressing the next question. By arguing about whether you’re cherry-picking, you’re accepting the premise that whether you’re cherry-picking is even relevant. Any time this happens, it’s good to pause and ask, “what did we just skip over?” Because that will tell you a lot.

What you skipped over is their admission that, yes, the IRC did plan harassment, but that’s only on them if most of the movement was in on it. Which is a load of crap - the rest of the IRC saw it happening, let it happen, it’s not like anybody warned Zoe, and shit, I’m having the cherry-picking argument! They got me! You see how tempting it is? But presumably the reason you brought the harassment up is because you want them to do something about it. At the very least, leave the movement, but ideally try and stop it. They don’t, strictly speaking, need to feel personally responsible to do that. And you might be thinking, well, maybe if I can get them take responsibility then they’ll do something, but you’d be falling for a different technique I call I Hate Mondays.

This is where people will acknowledge a terrible thing is happening, maybe even agree it’s bad, but they don’t believe anything can be done about it. They also don’t believe you believe anything can be done about it. Mondays suck, but they come around every week. This is never stated outright, but it’s why you’re arguing past each other. To them, the only reason to talk about the bad thing is to assign blame. Whose turn is it to get shit on for the unsolvable problem? Their argument about cherry-picking amounts to “1-2-3 not it.” And they are furious with you for trying to make them responsible for harassment they didn’t participate in.

The unspoken argument is that harassment is part of being on the internet. Every public figure deals with it. This ignores any concept of scale - why does one person get harassed more than another? - but you can’t argue with someone who views it as a binary: harassment either happens or it doesn’t, and, if it does, it’s a fact of life, and, if it happens to everyone, it’s not gendered. And this is not a strongly-held belief they’ve come to after years of soul-searching - this is what they’ve just decided they believe. They want to participate in GamerGate despite knowing its purpose, and this is what would need to be true for that to be ok.

Or maybe they’re just fucking with you! Maybe you can’t tell. Maybe they can’t tell, either. I call this one The Card Says Moops, where people say whatever they feel will score points in an argument and are so irony-poisoned they have no idea whether they actually believe it. A very useful trick if the thing you appear to believe is unconscionable. You can’t take what people like that say at face value; you can only intuit their beliefs from their actions. They say they believe this one minute and that another, but their behavior is always in accordance with that, not this.

In the negative space, their belief is, “The harassment of these women is okay. My anger about video games is more important. I may not be harassing them myself, but they do kind of deserve it.” They will never say this out loud in a serious conversation, though many will say it in an anonymous or irreverent space where they can later deny they meant it. But, whatever they say they believe, this is the worldview they are operating under.

Obscuring this means flipping through a lot of contradictory arguments. The harassment is being faked, or it’s not being faked but it’s being exaggerated, or it’s not being exaggerated but the target is provoking it to get attention, which means GamerGate harassers simultaneously don’t exist, exist in small numbers, and exist in such large numbers someone can build a career out of relying on them! It can be kind of fun to take all these arguments made in isolation and try to string together an actual position. Like, GamerGate would argue that Nathan Grayson having previously mentioned Zoe Quinn in an article about a canceled reality show counts as positive coverage, and since Grayson reached out to Quinn for comment it’s reasonable to assume they started dating before the article was published (which is earlier than they claim), and positive coverage did lead to greater popularity for Depression Quest. But if you untangle that, it’s like… okay, you’re saying Zoe Quinn slept with a journalist in exchange for four nonconsecutive sentences that said no more than “Zoe Quinn exists and made a game,” and the price of those four sentences was to date the journalist for months, all to get rich off a game that didn’t cost any money. That’s your movement?

And some, if cornered, would say, “yes, we believe women are just that shitty, that one would fuck a guy for months if it made them the tiniest bit more famous.” But they won’t lead with that. Because they know it won’t convince the normies, even the ones who want to be convinced. So they use a process I call The Ship of Theseus to, piece by piece, turn that sentence into “slept with a journalist in exchange for a good review” and argue that each part of the sentence is technically accurate. It’s trying to lie without lying. And, provided all the pieces of this sentence are discussed separately, and only in the context of how they justify this sentence, you can trick yourself into believing this sentence is mostly true.

So, like, why? This is clearly motivated reasoning; what’s the motivation? What was this going to accomplish?

The answer is nothing. Nothing, by design. GamerGate’s “official” channels - the subreddit and the handful of forums that didn’t shut them down - were rigidly opposed to any action more organized than an email campaign. They had a tiny handful of tangible demands - they wanted gaming websites to post public ethics policies and had a list of people they wanted fired - but their larger aim was the sea change in how games journalism operated, which nothing they were asking for could possibly give them. The kind of anger that convinces you this is a true statement is not going to be addressed by a few paragraphs about ethics and Leigh Alexander getting a new job. They wanted gaming sites to stop catering to women and “SJWs” - who were a sizable and growing source of traffic - and to get out of the pockets of companies that advertised on their websites - which was their primary source of income. So all Kotaku had to do to make them happy was solve capitalism!

Meanwhile, the unofficial channels, like 8chan and Baphomet, were planning op after op to get private information, spread lies with fake accounts, get disinformation trending, make people quit jobs, cancel gigs, and flee their homes. Concrete goals with clear results. All you had to do to feel productive was go rogue. In my video,

How to Radicalize a Normie, I describe how the Alt-Right encourages lone wolf behavior by whipping people up into a rage and then refusing to give them anything to do, while surrounding them with examples of people taking matters into their own hands. The same mechanism is in play here: the public-facing channels don’t condone harassment but also refuse to fight it, the private channels commit it under cover of anonymity, and there is a free flow of traffic between them for when the official channels’ impotence becomes unbearable.

What I hope I’m illustrating is how these techniques play off of each other, how they create a closed ecosystem that rational thought cannot enter. There’s a phrase we use on the internet that got thrown around a lot at the time:

you can’t logic someone out of a position they didn’t logic themselves into.

Now, there are a few other big topics I think are relevant here, so I want to go through them one by one.

MEMEIFICATION

So a lot of interactions with GamerGate would involve a very insular knowledge base.

Like, you’d say something benign but progressive on Twitter.

A gater would show up in your mentions and say something aggressive and false.

You’d correct them. But then they’d come back and hit you with -

ah shit, sorry, this is a Loss meme.

If I were in front of a classroom I’d ask, show of hands, how many of you got that? I had to ask Twitter recently, does Gen Z know about Loss?!

If you don’t know what Loss is I’m not sure I can explain it to you. It’s this old, bad webcomic that was parodied so, so, so many times

that it was reduced to its barest essentials, to the point where any four panels with shapes in this arrangement is a Loss meme. For those of you in the know, you will recognize this anywhere, but have you ever tried to explain to someone who wasn’t in the know why this is really fuckin’ funny?

So, now… by the same process that this is a comics joke,

this is a rape joke.

I’m not gonna show the original image, but, once upon a time, someone made an animated GIF of the character Piccolo from Dragon Ball Z graphically raping Vegeta. 4chan loved it so much that it got posted daily, became known as the “daily dose,” until mods started deleting every incident of it. So they uploaded slightly edited version of it. Then they started uploading other images that had been edited with Piccolo’s color scheme. It got so abstracted that eventually any collection of purple and green pixels would be recognized as Piccolo Dick.

Apropos of nothing, GamerGate is a movement that insists it is not sexist in nature and it does not condone threats of rape against the women they don’t like. And this is their logo. This is their mascot.

If you’re familiar with the Daily Dose, the idea that GamerGate would never support Eron Gjoni if they believed he was a sexual abuser is so blatantly insincere it’s insulting… but imagine trying to explain to someone who’s not on 4chan how this sweater is a rape joke. Imagine having to explain it to a journalist. Imagine having to explain it to the judge enforcing your abuser’s restraining order.

Reactionaries use meme culture not just because they’re terminally online but also because it makes their behavior seem either benign or just confusing to outsiders. They find it hilarious that they can be really explicit and still fly under the radar. The Alt-Right did this with Pepe the Frog, the OK sign, even the milk glass emoji for a hot minute. The more inexplicable the meme, the better. You get the point where Stephen Miller is flashing Nazi signs from the White House and the Presidential re-eletion campaign is releasing 88 ads of exactly 14 words and there’s still a debate about whether the administration is racist. Because journalists aren’t going to get their heads around that. You tell them “1488 is a Nazi number,” it’s gonna seem a lot more plausible that you’re making shit up.

MOVE FAST AND BREAK THINGS

Online movements like GamerGate move at a speed and mutation rate too high for the mainstream world to keep up. And not just that they don’t understand the memes - they don’t understand the infrastructure.

In an attempt to cover GamerGate evenhandedly, George Wiedman of Super Bunnyhop interviewed a lawyer who specializes in journalistic ethics. He meant well; I really wish he hadn’t. You can see him trying to fit something like GamerGate into terms this silver-haired man who works in copyright law can understand. At one point he asks if it’s okay to fund the creative project of a potential journalistic source, to which the guy understandably says “no.”

What he’s alluding to here is the harassment of Jenn Frank. A few weeks into GamerGate, Jenn Frank writes a piece in The Guardian about sexism in tech that mentions Anita Sarkeesian and Zoe Quinn. In another case of “here’s a strongly-held belief I just decided I have,” GamerGate says this is a breach of journalistic ethics because Frank backs Quinn on Patreon. They harass her so intensely she not only has to quit her job at The Guardian, for several months she quits journalism entirely.

Off the bat, calling a public figure central to a major event in the field a “journalistic source” is flatly wrong-headed. Quinn was not interviewed or even contacted for the article, they were in no way a “source”; they were a subject. But I want to talk about this phrase, “fund a creative project.” Patreon is functionally a subscription; it’s a way of buying things. It’s technically accurate that Frank is funding Quinn’s creative project, but only in the sense that you are funding Bob Dylan’s creative project if you listen to his music. And saying Frank therefore can’t write about Quinn is like saying a music journalist can’t cover a Bob Dylan concert if they’ve ever bought his albums.

And we could talk about the ways that Patreon, as compared with other funding models, can create a greater sense of intimacy, and we also could comment that, well, that’s how an increasing number of people consume media now, so that perspective should be present in journalism. But maybe it means we should cover that perspective differently? I don’t know. It’s an interesting subject. But none of that’s going on in this conversation because this guy doesn’t know what Patreon is. It was only a year old at this point. Patreon’s been a primary source of my income for 5 years and my parents still don’t know what it is. (I think they think I’m a freelancer?) This guy hears “funding a creative project” and he’s thinking an investor, someone who makes a profit off the source’s success.

The language of straight society hasn’t caught up with what’s happening, and that works in GamerGate’s favor.

In the years since GamerGate we have dozens of stories of people trying to explain Twitter harassment to a legal system that’s never heard of Twitter. People trying to explain death threats to cops whose only relationship to the internet is checking email, confusedly asking, “Why don’t you just not go online?” Like, yeah, release your text game about depression at GameStop for the PS3 and get it reviewed in the Boston Globe, problem solved.

You see this in the slowness of mainstream journalists to condemn the harassment - hell, even games journalists at first. Because what if it is a legitimate movement? What if the harassers are just a fringe element? What if there was misconduct? The people in a position to stop GamerGate don’t have to be convinced of their legitimacy, they just have to hesitate. They just have to be unsure. Remember how much happened in just the first two weeks, how it took only a month to become unkillable.

It’s the same hesitance that makes mainstream media, online platforms, and law enforcement underestimate The Alt-Right. They’re terrified of condemning a group as white nationalist terrorists because they’re confused, and what if they’re wrong? Or, in most cases, not even afraid they’re wrong, but afraid of the PR disaster if too much of the world thinks they’re wrong.

ACCOUNTABILITY AND CONTROL

A thing I’ve talked about in The Alt-Right Playbook is how these decentralized, ostensibly leaderless movements insulate themselves from responsibility. Harassment is never the movement’s fault because they never told anyone to harass and you can’t prove the harassers are legitimate members of the movement. The Alt-Right does this too - one of their catchphrases is “I disavow.” Since there are no formalized rules for membership, they can redraw boundaries on the fly; they can take credit for any successes and deny responsibility for any wrongdoing. Public membership is granted or revoked based on a person’s moment-to-moment utility.

It’s almost like… they’re cherry-picking.

The flipside of this is a lack of control. Since they never officially tell anyone to do anything but write emails, they have no means of stopping anyone from behaving counterproductively. The harassment of Jenn Frank was the first time GamerGate’s originators thought, “maybe we should ease off just to avoid bad publicity,” and they found they couldn’t. GamerGate had gotten too big, and too many people were clearly there for precisely this reason.

They also couldn’t control the infighting. When your goal is to harass women and you have all these contradictory justifications for why, you end up with a lot of competing beliefs. And, you know what? Angry white men who like harassing people don’t form healthy relationships! Several prominent members of GamerGate - including Internet Aristocrat - got driven out by factionalism; they were doxxed by their own people! Jordan Owen and Davis Aurini parted ways hating each other, with Aurini releasing chatlogs of him gaslighting Owen about accepting an endorsement from Roosh, and they released two competing edits of The Sarkeesian Effect.

I say this because it’s useful to know that these are alliances of convenience. If you know where the sore spots are, you can apply pressure to them.

LEADERS WITHOUT LEADERSHIP

One way movements like GamerGate deflect responsibility is by declaring, “We are a leaderless movement! We have no means to stop harassment.”

Which… any anarchist will tell you collective action is entirely possible without leaders. But they’ll also tell you, absent a system of distributing power equitably, you’re gonna have leaders, just not ones you elected.

A few months into GamerGate, Randi Lee Harper created the ggautoblocker. Here’s what it did: it took five prominent GamerGate figures - Adam Baldwin, Mike Cernovich, Christina Hoff Sommers, Milo Yiannopoulos, and Nick Monroe, formerly known as [sigh] PressFartToContinue - and generated a block list of everyone who followed at least two of them on Twitter. Now, this became something of an arms race; once GamerGate found out about it they made secondary accounts that followed different people, and more and more prominent figures appeared and had to get added to the list. But, when it first launched, the list generated from just these five people comprised an estimated 90-95% of GamerGate.

Hate to break it to you, guys, but if 90+ percent of your movement is following at least two of the same five people, those are your leaders. The attention economy has produced them. Power pools when left on its own.

This is another case where you have to ignore what people claim and look at what they do. The Alt-Right loves to say “we disavow Richard Spencer” and “Andrew Anglin doesn’t speak for us.”

But no matter what they say, pay attention to whom they’re taking cues from.

AD CAMPAIGN

George Lakoff has observed that one way the Left fails in opposition to the Right is that most liberal politicians and campaigners have degrees in things like law and political science, where conservative campaigners more often have degrees in advertising and communications. Liberals and leftists may have a better product to sell, but conservatives know how to sell products.

GamerGate less resembles a boots-on-the-ground political movement than an ad campaign. First they decide what their messaging strategy is going to be. Then the media arm starts publicizing it. They seek out celebrity endorsements. They get their own hashtag and mascot. They donate to charity and literally call it “public relations.” You can even see the move from The Quinnspiracy to GamerGate as a rebranding effort - when one name got too closely associated with harassment, they started insisting GamerGate was an entirely separate movement from The Quinnspiracy. I learned that trick from Stringer Bell’s economics class.

Now, we could stand to learn a thing or two from this. But I also wouldn’t want us to adopt this strategy whole hog; you should view moves like these as red flags. If you’re hesitating to condemn a movement because what if it’s legitimate, take a look at whether they’re selling ideology like it’s Pepsi.

PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING

One reason to insist you’re a consumer revolt rather than a harassment campaign is most people who want to harass need someone to give them permission, and need someone to tell them it’s normal.

Bob Altemeyer has this survey he uses to study authoritarianism. He divides respondents into people with low, average, and high authoritarian sentiments, and then tells them what the survey has measured and asks, “what score do you think is best to have: low, average, or high?”

People with low authoritarian sentiments say it’s best to be low. People with average authoritarian sentiments also say it’s best to be low. But people with high authoritarian sentiments? They say it’s best to be average. Altemeyer finds, across all his research, that reactionaries want to aggress, but only if it is socially acceptable. They want to know they are the in-group and be told who the out-group is. They don’t particularly care who the out-group is, Altemeyer finds they’ll aggress against any group an authority figure points to, even, if they don’t notice it, a group that contains them. They just have to believe the in-group is the norm.

This is why they have to believe games journalism is corrupt because of a handful of feminist media critics with outsized influence. Legitimate failures of journalism cannot be systemic problems rooted in how digital media is funded and consumed; there cannot be a legitimate market for social justice-y media. It has to be manipulation by the few. Because, if these things are common, then, even if you don’t like them, they’re normal. They’re part of the in-group. Reactionary politics is rebellion against things they dislike getting normalized, because they know, if they are normalized, they will have to accept them. Because the thing they care about most is being normal.

This is why the echo chamber, this is why Fox News, this is why the Far Right insists they are the “silent majority.” This is why they artificially inflate their numbers. This is why they insist facts are “biased.” They have to maintain the image that what are, in material terms, fringe beliefs are, in fact, held by the majority. This is why getting mocked by Stephen Colbert was such a blow to GamerGate. It makes it harder to believe the world at large agrees with them.

This is why, if you’re trying to change the world for the better, it’s pointless to ask their permission. Because, if you change the world around them, they will adapt even faster than you will.

THE ARGUMENT ISN’T SUPPOSED TO END

Casey Explosion has this really great Twitter thread comparing the Alt-Right to Scary Terry from Rick and Morty. His catchphrase is “you can run but you can’t hide, bitch.” And Rick and Morty finally escape him by hiding. And Morty’s all, “but he said we can’t hide,” and Rick is like, “why are we taking his word on this? if we could hide, he certainly wouldn’t tell us.”

The reason to argue with a GamerGater is on the implied agreement that, if you can convince them they’re part of a hate mob, they will leave. But look at the incentives here: they want to be in GamerGate, and you want them not to be. But they’re already in GamerGate. They’re not waiting on the outcome of this argument to participate. They’ve already got what they want; they don’t need to convince you GamerGate isn’t a hate mob.

This is why all their logic and rationalizations are shit, because they don’t need to be good. They’re not trying to win an argument. They’re trying to keep the argument going.

This has been a precept of conservative political strategy for decades. “You haven’t convinced us climate change is real and man-made, you need to do more studies.” They’re not pausing the use of fossil fuels until the results come in. “You haven’t convinced us there are no WMDs in Iraq, you need to collect more evidence.” They’re not suspending the war until you get back to them. “You haven’t convinced us that Reaganomic tax policy causes recessions, let’s just do it for another forty years and see what happens.” And when the proof comes in, they send us out for more, and we keep going.

The biggest indicator you can’t win a debate with a reactionary is they keep telling you you can. The biggest indicator protest and deplatforming works is they keep telling you in plays into their hands. The biggest indicator that you shouldn’t compromise with Republicans is they keep saying doing otherwise is stooping to their level. They’re not going to walk into the room and say, “Hi, my one weakness is reasoned argument, let’s pick a time and place to hash this out.”

And we fall for it because we’re trying to be decent people. Because we want to believe the truth always wins. We want to bargain in good faith, and they are weaponizing our good faith against us. Always dangling the carrot that the reason they’re like this is no one’s given them the right argument not to be. It’s all just a misunderstanding, and, really, it’s on us for not trying hard enough.

But they have no motivation to agree with us. Most of the people asking for debates have staked their careers on disagreeing with us. Conceding any point to the Left could cost them their livelihood.

WHY GAMES?

Let’s close with the big question: why games? And, honestly, the short answer is:

why not games?

Games culture has always presented itself as a hobby for young, white, middle class boys. It’s always been bigger and more diverse than that, but that’s how it was marketed, and that’s who most felt they belonged. As gaming grows bigger, there is suddenly room for those marginal voices that have always been there to make themselves heard. And, as gaming becomes more mainstream, it’s having its first brushes with serious critical analysis.

This makes the people who have long felt gaming was theirs and theirs alone anxious and a little angry. They’ve invested a lot of their identity in it and they don’t want it to change.

And what the Far Right sees in a sizable collection of aggrieved young men is an untapped market. This is why sites like Stormfront and Breitbart flocked to them. These are not liberals they have to convert, these people are, up til now, not politically engaged. The Right can be their first entry to politics.

The world was changing. Nerd properties were exploding into popular culture in tandem with media representation diversifying. And we were living with the first Black President. Any time an out-group looks like it might join the in-group, there is a self-protective backlash from the existing in-group. This had been brewing for a while, and, honestly, if it hadn’t boiled over in games, it would have boiled over somewhere else.

And, in the years since GamerGate, it has. The Far Right has tapped the comics, Star Wars, and sci-fi fandoms; they tried to get in with the furry community but failed spectacularly. They’re all over YouTube and, frankly, the atheist community was already in their pocket. Basically, if you’re in community with a bunch of young white guys who think they own the place, you might wanna have some talks with them sooner than later.

Anyway, if you want to know more about any of this stuff, RationalWiki’s timeline on GamerGate is pretty thorough. You can also watch my or Dan Olson’s videos on the subject. I’ll be putting the audio of this talk on YouTube and will put as many resources as I can in the show notes. The channel, again, is Innuendo Studios.

Sorry this was such a bummer.

Thank you for your time.

#video essay #alt-right playbook #Youtube

379 notes · View notes

cooloddball · 3 years

Text

JIB9 (JIBCON, 2018) ANYALYSIS-PART 1

I never know how to begin these things so let’s just dive in.

Jensen and Misha enter the stage as Alex is leaving. Jensen commends Alex and Misha whistles and Jensen says don’t hurt my ears or something. And so it begin. Misha says he regretted it [whistling] immediately.

I’m hard of hearing you know why because I whistled. This joke didn’t land Misha. Sorry.

Jensen says “Hey” like he wants to say something to the audience but Misha does this weird thing where he runs his index finger down his nose and touches his chin.

I think this was Misha trying to communicate his disappointment that Jensen didn’t get the joke. He wanted him to get the joke. Misha e tries to find his seat so he could sit but Jensen catches on that Misha needs him so he says, “Hey what? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” Aww :)

Misha leans his ear closer to Jensen and says, and Jensen leans even closer and they have this back and forth banter about not hearing what the other is saying.

To mention something personal, I am usually very uncomfortable when people lean into me, I like my personal space unless it’s someone I’m really close to and even then not always will be with them getting up close and personal.. They seem okay with it so good for them I guess. Personal space who?

“I don’t understand your accent” Misha says. I don’t know if this is an inside joke because Jensen says “shut up,” playfully and they sit down.

Jensen applauds Alex and Misha whistles again and Jensen has to look away faux disappointed because they just talked about whistling. Misha!!! Stop being naughty.

Jensen even rubs his ears to show that he can’t hear properly. LOL.

That’s like super loud dude.

I actually find it really weird when Misha and Jensen call each other dude. It sounds unnatural because Jensen often calls other men-pal, bud, or man and Misha usually uses people’s names or says my friend so and so. So maybe this is what they call each other? I know when I talk to my bf or my friends I call them dude (gn) especially when I’m shocked about something. So, it’s not a biggie. Just noting this because they do this a lot with each other.

Misha does this super cute shoulder shrug with the biggest grin on his face. How can a grown ass man be that adorable. I don’t know how he does it but well he did it and it’s adorable. No wonder Jensen wants to put him in his pocket and take him home.

“I’m compensating.” And he looks at Jensen with this shit eating grin on his face as if challenging him and it’s like Jensen looks like he can’t breathe for a second it was literally three seconds.

“[compensating] For a lot of things that’s wow.” Jensen says. Misha keeps grinning. Of course Jensen would know what Misha is compensating for wouldn’t he?

Should we talk about Alex?” Jensen asks looking at Misha.

Loudly “Yeah.”

“No I don’t think so.”

What did you ask how was the pantheon?

Jesus I love their madness. They play off each other so well.

They say they are working on teaching alex to talk about inappropriate things. Side note: It’s funny though because Alex looks like their love child. He looks like Misha, and to some extent Jensen, his hair, sense of style and even the way he carries himself is all Jensen. So weird. What if –What if---nvm.

Jensen mentions he remembers his first season of spn. Misha looks at Jensen and says no you don’t [remember] and Jensen agrees that he doesn’t. Yes finish each other’s sentences why don’t you? He says he doesn’t remember that far back and Misha has this far away look as if he is trying to remember something and starts laughing and Jensen has this smirk on his face. IDK what is going on but these are moments I wish I could read minds.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha though.

So Misha mentions how Jared pranked Alex during the tattoo scene of s13x02. The moment Misha mentions Jared, Jensen stops smiling.

Knowing what we know now about the fallout I want to mention something. When Misha talks about Jared and his prank on Alex Jensen doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about that. Hmm and he circles back to talk about Alex then he calls Jared a toddler? But Misha makes it sound like Jensen was referring to Alex by saying easy prey .

Misha shows the face Alex makes when they are on set together because of the pranks and the jokes.

Jensen adds, “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you do that?”+ Jensen is so excited. I mean anyone who says this is PR then they are crazy. You can’t fake emotions like that no matter how good of an actor you are.

‘The way Jensen calls Misha ‘this one’ It sounds so couply. Like when one half of a couple says, “this one is always a crying mess when we watch the notebook” or something akin to that. Any that’s just how I interpreted it, I could be wrong.

And this is how Misha is looking at Jensen when he says “this one”

That moment when Misha touches the back of Jensen’s neck and Jensen touches his thigh and they think it’s too gay because because Jensen acts like he just touched dirt and Misha brushes off his thigh and smells it. Now that’s acting.

Jensen checks Misha out (he specifically looks at Misha’s arms) and then asks “how’re you doing bud?”

Misha says good and that cringe moment about clothes sharing starts and oh I can’t look…okay I had to look because cringe. But the way Jensen is looking at Misha is giving me the courage to and also I had to for the sake of this analysis I had to look.

“This morning Jensen was like, ‘hey, here’s that shirt you wanna borrow that shirt to wear to the convention today and I was like ‘no dude I’m not wearing your shirt to the convention to the convention’ and he’s [Jensen] like don’t worry it still has tags on it it’s fine. And I’m like no thanks , I’m not gonna wear your fucking shirt to the convention. And then at lunch I spilled salad dressing all over my shirt like sweet so thanks for the shirt.”

The whole time Misha is telling the story he’s not looking at Jensen he’s looking at the crowd. Jensen on the other hand is checking Misha out while biting his bottom lip. There’s a lot to unpack here.

Jensen: ‘I knew. Umm..”

Misha: “You are like Misha didn’t bring his bib today so…”

Jensen: “He didn’t bring his bib? We are probably having you know some pretty----no I was literally have a shirt that I brought that…cause I try to wear something new for every time there are pictures being taken of me just cause that’s the culture we live in now…”

Interrupting moose enters.

*I will do a comprehensive analysis on the clothes sharing confessions, lies and half truths in another post. Boy (gn) do I have tea.”

I think when Jared is giving Jensen the balloons Jensen asks him if Daniela or someone else sent him to join them but I think he came of his own volition.

Jared is asking Jensen to untie a balloon for him but Jensen doesn’t look too thrilled

Misha must’ve noticed the tension between those two so he asks, “how good a knot did you tie?”

Jensen’s like, “You know what? I tie a knot that a professional knows how to tie.” Okay kinky, tell us more about knots Jensen. (Sorry for this but knowing the A/B/O or rather the Omegaverse was started because of Jensen and now he’s talking about tying a knot and…you know what nvm)

Misha pretends that what Jensen is saying is sus so he and Jared have a back and forth wondering what Jensen is talking about as Jensen unties the balloons. Yeah sure Misha like he hasn’t tied …you know what? This is getting uncomfortable even for me. Can we move on?

But Jensen won’t let me move on because he’s like, “seriously that’s how you tie a knot.” Of course you’d know sir

Jared adds, “Or it’s not” can someone shut this man up, please.

Jensen doesn’t like his friend’s joke and he has something to say about it, “Did he have to join us?” Was this a joke? Was it serious? Who knows but recent events seem to suggest that he might’ve been serious but made it look like a joke.

Jared asks for one balloon and Misha tries to reach for one but Jensen keeps pulling them away so Misha can’t reach. This is so playful and adorable. Misha snags one finally then gives it to Jared. One flies away and he tries to reach for it but he’s not tall enough.

“Do you want some help?” Jared asks and laughs then Misha gives him the finger.

Jensen gets grumpy after Daniela brings Misha a colourless balloon so he hits it with his microphone then he hits his and sits on it and pops it. Fuck that was hot for some weird reason. I could watch him pop balloons all day.

Misha and Jared’s reaction when Jensen sits on the balloon.

Misha tries Miserably to pop his, Jared can’t look, Jensen is still grumpy but the more Misha struggles the happier Jensen gets and he even manages a smile.

This was hilarious though. Their face journeys.

Jared brings a watermelon and gives it to Misha but Jensen slaps it out of his hands and shows he doesn’t want him to do it from the way he’s waving his hand.

The only thing Jensen wants Misha to wrap his legs around is his waist, or his neck or shoulders or whatever. I don’t know which method of wrestling they prefer, I’m not a professional wrestler I mean I’ve watched WWE a few times but-

Jensen seems happy, I don’t know what Misha says to him before he sits but Jensen seems okay until…

Jared hands Misha the pink balloon holder and says, “You gonna want this for later,”

Misha doesn’t look too happy about it either but he’s always a good sport. Poor guy, so he plays a long and looks at the holder which interestingly is pink and phallic. I know Jared was joking and yeah the joke wasn’t that funny but Jensen is super pissed because he asks, “Is he?” looking at the balloon holder.

Jesus Jensen wtf? But I honestly understand him, I mean why would Misha need that weird cheap plastic thing when there was the real thing waiting someone in a pair of Levis.

Jensen says, “well… some parts of this” I can’t quite make out what he says.

Misha tries to make it a light moment by saying it looks like something horrible happened and that gets Jensen to laugh and then Misha bends over to uh..to drop the melon and the phallic object and Jensen’s eyes shoot right down the citrusy-juicy stone fruit goodness. He catches himself looks away and then looks at the crowd while chewing on his bottom lip.

Okay sexual jokes are fun but not every time Jared. I mean c’mon, not everything is a gay sex joke. This is the one thing that sells him out as a straight dude. He makes way too many gay sex jokes it’s not even funny.

They have this weird back and forth about Jared having some notes. Argh. It’s weird. It’s like they are fighting. You see how girls fight and act like like they aren’t fighting but you can sense the seething anger in the undertones of their voices? That’s the vibe I get here. Even Misha is confused because he keeps looking between the two wondering why notes are so important of a discussion that warrants a back and forth. Or maybe it’s just me. IDK.

Misha has to jump in and save the day “He’s [Jared] is just looking through for pictures] Misha explaining to Jensen why Jared has to read the script forty times while Jensen only reads it once. WTF is going on boys? You were doing so well before and now things seem totally awkward *cough*fallout*cough*

Jensen looks totally done like he wants to be anywhere but here, seriously look at him.

It gets so awkward so much so that Misha has to prompt a fan to ask a question. As I said earlier, no one is such a great actor to fake emotions. Jensen keeps proving my theory. Something was going on with j/2 that day and no matter how hard they tried to mask it, it came out and it wasn’t pretty. Then again, maybe it’s just me and nothing was going on.

A fan asks how they like stories to end and before he can answer, Misha quickly glances at Jensen then goes ahead and explains how he likes the story to leave him on a cliffhanger.

Misha has barely finished talking before Jensen chimes in with a “I Do NOT!” Look at Jared’s and Misha’s faces. Something was clearly going on and I think it had something to do with the show because Jensen didn’t seem okay since Jared came on stage. He says how he wants a finality to things otherwise jerks. They were clearly talking about the show, Jensen, for a good actor you are acting really weird. It is about the show because he says, “we are just dead” Something very weird was going on. Maybe at this time they already had had their meeting with TPTB in LA and he was told to take it or leave it and Jared and Kripke didn’t even hear him out. My poor baby, Do all the spin offs King and you should star in all of them like you deserve.

He even says that spn dying is not a finality. He looks super pissed. What did these people (Jared and tptb) do to him? They broke him. He was doing so well.

Luckily a fan asks them if they can dance so Jensen goes to the wheel and Misha gets up. I think he knows Jensen is angry and he has to try to make his man happy the best way he can. Jared is suffering from second hand embarrassment as am I. Jared can’t look, same Jared this is so cringe. But Jensen can’t help himself, as he is coming back from spinning the wheel he checks out Misha’s citrusy-juicy goodness again 🍑

Misha please stop. I love you but this is embarrassing. Okay so let me look at Jensen instead. He looks like those gentlemen waiting for the debutantes at a debutante ball because of the way he’s standing looking at Misha dance. Subtle sir. Very subtle. I mean if my friend was dancing like that I’d be laughing at them not watching longingly. Just saying, but that’s just me.

The way Misha looks at Jensen and starts rolling his hips. Sirs, can you not do your mating dance in public? There are children in the audience.

Even the way Jensen cues in the music so he can dance looks like he’s in the Victorian era asking the music master to play the song he asked to be cued in so he could dance with his sweetheart or something. Am I going crazy? I’m going crazy.

The whole dancing scene was just cringe.

Mish explaining what Castiel does when the boys go to sleep

Hold on, when Jensen asks what Castiel does when the Sam and Dean are asleep in their respective bedrooms, he made sure to emphasize respective bedrooms and we all know the reason why. Stay speaking facts king.

Anyway, when he asks Misha to demonstrate for us what Cas does, did he expect that Cas stands there peeping into Dean’s room and wanks or what did he expect? Honestly I’m just curious, what did he want Misha to demonstrate exactly.

Then he gets up to demonstrate it himself .

When Misha says that the episode will be called ‘I’ll just wait here ten” Jensen unicorn laughs and when he realizes he was laughing to hard at Misha’s joke he says, ”I don’t get it.” Yeah sure Jensen it was clear from how hard you laughing to the point where we could see your tonsils that you didn’t get it. Good one. Misha maintains a serious face and even shakes his head.

A fan asks Misha what Castiel would have in his room. Misha says just a bunch of catnip. I don’t know what is so funny again that it warrants Jensen to hide his face because he’s trying not to laugh too hard. Does the word catnip or Cas being a cat mean something to you? Is it because Misha is cute like a kitten? Do love to rub his tum and hear him purr? Does he rub his nose along your beard like a cat would? What is so funny?

Then Jensen adds, “and kitty litter.” So adorable. I want in on the inside joke.

Misha says that he would have a poster of a cat hanging from a tree that says, “Hey it’s Monday” and Jensen laughs so hard. Then Jensen makes sure to add, “he has that poster in his trailer.” How do you know?

Why are these two dorks so happy about the mention of AU Cas?

Then the way Jensen is excited about asking Misha for a demonstration of AU Cas

WTF am I watching? Help. But the eye fuck and the way the laugh.

Look how hard Jensen is laughing when Misha says what went through his head is that “they met at a club.” Pray for Jensen. He needs help. Serious help because no one is ever that funny all the time Jensen.

You can see how Jensen’s mood changed after Jared said that is the best acting he has ever seen Misha do. Jared seriously read the room. That part of the video has been discussed before so I won’t get into that.

The way Jensen’s eyes widen when Jared says Misha really wants to answer the who is your rock question. It is subtle but it happens. He also raises his eyebrows as if to say “really? leave my husband alone.”

Okay did Jared expect Misha to say Jensen was his rock or??

Jensen is acting weird through Misha’s answer. He’s mostly stoic, like he’s holding his breath? Can I also mention how handsome Misha looks? But I like Misha’s answer and it’s so beautiful that he married his best friend. Everyone who wants to get married should marry their best friend. What do I know though? Marriage is a foreign concept to me.

Jensen asks how many mothers there are in the audience.

Jared carries on with “how many of us have mothers?

Misha: That’s quite an impressive turn out. So many people didn’t raise their hands.

“They are like no I was genetically engineered in a lab.” Okay hear me out. Jensen knows what you know who believe that his kids and Jared’s kids were made in a lab because they couldn’t stand to copulate with their wives because of how much they hate them because Jared is his on true love. If you didn’t know this I’m sorry to divulge this disgusting piece of information to you but you can’t unsee it now so you are welcome. I swear I think this was a jab at them, no one can convince me otherwise.

Even Jared and Misha’s reaction to that is pretty telling. Then Jensen adds “And some of you probably were” I think he means those soulless fans who send their wives and kids threats and also hate on Misha every chance they get. Go off king.

He talks about how his wife is also his rock aww Jensen

Remember how Jensen was being weird during Misha’s answer? Misha is being weird as well, mostly stoic and looking at a fixed spot on the ground. I want to know what was so interesting.

Oh that micro expression from Jared, his right eye widens the moment Jensen says “I have some amazing pebbles in my life.” Did he think Jensen was going to out himself? He was like oh shit oh sit it’s happening.

The glee on Misha’s face when when Jensen calls him a pebble aww Jensen.

I know what I’m about to say is controversial but I think that by pebbles Jensen meant Misha. It doesn’t make sense that he was comparing his wife and his friends. The only person he would relate his wife to is his husband. I know this sounds crazy and people will definitely not be happy about this but that’s my opinion.I I know he loves Jared and he is his bro for life so if he was referring to them both wouldn’t he have pointed to them both?

Jared talks about how sometimes he doesn’t want to burden the people he really loves with what’s on his mind all the time and Jensen points to himself in a very aggressive way. Jesus Jensen way to be subtle. Fuck. Also Jensen nods vigorously when Jared says look for your pebbles because sometimes pebbles are what you need to get back to your rock.

It’s time to sing a hbd song and when Misha asks Jared “did you volunteer for this?” That’s when Jensen places his hand on Misha’s knee and says “I got it” He’s like, babe seriously? You are gonna ask Jared to sing when you know I got the voice for it? Seriously? I’m right here babe. I sing to you every night and you gonna do me like this? I got this and you are mine.

He caresses that leg and gets very comfortable on it, draping his arm from the elbow down on it. Possessive much? It’s clearly not the first time he has parched on that leg. The hand was on that leg for 1 minute and 15 seconds. Yes, I counted.

The intimate way in which Jensen and Misha they are seated is so awkward that Jared scoots away from them.

Damn, son. Jensen’s vocals are out of this world. So good.

Jesus Jared “Deeper, deeper feel it” Is that what they were screaming through the hotel walls last night? Tell us more.

Misha is so uncomfortable and Jensen is so done.

So overall this part was basically cockles being cockles, Jensen being possessive of Misha, Jared being Jared, Jensen being done, the girls are fighting and Misha is the referee.

That’s the end of part 1.

Part 2

#cockles #j2m #cokles jib9 panel #jib9 #jibcon 2018

228 notes · View notes

emy-loves-you · 3 years

Text

Have Your Name (And Your Back) Chapter 6

Chapter 5 | Masterlist | Chapter 7

Summary: Patton is told more about the Fairies he stays with, but by the end he's left with more questions than answers.

Warning: Bathing. This chapter is also mainly used for world building and can be seen as info-dumping, but I needed to get most of this info out now so y’all weren’t confused in later chapters

Patton woke up with a low moan, stretching out on the bed. He felt lazy and warm, his limbs pleasantly stiff as he snuggled under the blankets. He had always been woken up by someone else, whether it be his mo-Lady Hart yelling at him to get to work or Prince’s soothing magic from yesterday. It felt so relaxing to wake up on his own, with no immediate need to get up and do work. He laid in bed for a few minutes, savoring the warm sheets over him and the soft mattress beneath him. If it was possible, Patton would be fully content to stay in this bed for the rest of his life, warm and happy and content.

Eventually, however, he felt his familiar urges and left to use the restroom. As he finished up and washed his hands, Patton stared longingly at the large bathtub. It was large and circular, and Patton was sure that if he layed in the middle of it and stretched his limbs in any direction he wouldn’t be able to touch the edge. The outer edge was slightly deeper than the average tub and deepened as it reached the center, the direct center almost as deep as Patton was tall, and small bottles sat on the edge of the tub.

Patton bit his lip as he stared at the tub. Prince said that this was all Patton’s. Did that mean he could take a bath? He wasn’t allowed to bathe at the Hart manor, only short cold showers when he was extremely smelly. He had sometimes ran the bath for Lady Hart, and he was pretty sure he knew what bathing entailed, but he’d never actually done it.

Patton’s curiosity won as he stripped himself of his clothes. He cringed as the clothes clung to his skin. He was used to wearing grimy clothes for weeks on end, but the feeling of fresh clean clothes yesterday had truly spoiled him. Patton had seen a few pairs of pajamas in the closet; maybe he could change into them before he went to bed tonight?

Patton put his clothes into the small basket next to the door and gasped as they disappeared. Magic is amazing! He turned to the tub and frowned when there was only one handle. He’d only seen tubs with two handles. He turned the handle and gasped as his hand tingled from the contact. Water began slowly dribbling out, and Patton put his hand under to feel the temperature. It was pleasantly warm but not hot, just like he wished it would be. He turned the handle to try and make the water flow faster but it didn’t budge. He shrugged and glanced over at the small bottles. There were different soaps and a few bottles of oils. He opened one of the oil bottles and smiled at the warm vanilla scent. He carefully poured a few drops into the water, just as he had done with Lady Hart’s baths.

Suddenly the faucet started running at a faster rate, apparently waiting for the oil to be added before filling the tub. Patton put the bottle away before carefully stepping into the tub, moaning as the warm water seeped into his skin. He laid his head on the edge of the tub and fully relaxed, finding it even better than his bed. He didn’t even have an experience to compare this to, reveling in the sensation of lying beneath the still water.

He laid in the water until his fingers started to wrinkle, slowly washing his body and hair. He stretched each action out for as long as possible, not wanting to leave the tub. Eventually, however, he had to leave with a slightly heavy heart yet content smile. He stood up and picked up a towel that had appeared on the counter at some point during his bath, drying himself before wrapping the towel around his body. The towel covered his small frame, easily wrapping around him and stretching from his armpits to below his knees. He sighed at the feeling and made his way to the closet, deciding to wear a pale blue shirt that went down to his knees along with some white tights. The clothes were tighter than yesterday’s pair but they were still comfortably loose, the shirt fanning out when Patton spun around.

He giggled and went back to the bedroom, spinning around in small circles until he was dizzy. As Patton flopped down onto the floor he noticed something new in his room. A small table stood in the corner of the room, a large book and journal sitting on top with a pencil. Remembering his conversation with Prince about learning fae culture, Patton grabbed the items and sat down in bed, getting comfy as he looked over the new items. The book was a deep red color with gold lettering, luckily in the same language as the cookbook Patton was used to reading. It was weird to find out that the language he could read was not the same language he could speak. The words on the page were easy to read and translate to verbal English, even if he didn’t understand what some of the words meant, though he couldn’t speak the language that was written or write in English. Is that because I can only read in that language and speak in English, or is the Fae magic helping me again?

Patton shook his head and focused back on the book. The title read How to Survive an Encounter With the Fair Folk, and there was no author name in sight. The journal was a dull brown leather, with no significant markings. Patton flipped to the first page, expecting it to be blank. Instead, there was half a page worth of writing- in the language Patton could read- labeled ‘Instructions.’ Patton carefully read them over.

As you read the information found in either the books supplied to you or this journal, use these symbols to communicate your comprehension levels. If you understand a question or wish to respond with ‘yes,’ simply place a checkmark (✓) next to whatever you’re responding to. If you disagree with a statement or wish to respond with ‘no,’ place the Latin letter ex (X) next to whatever you’re responding to. If you are confused, place a question mark (?) next to whatever confuses you. Lastly, if you only wish to respond to a small word or phrase, please underline the word or phrase before placing a checkmark, ex or question mark. Also, if you wish to respond to multiple sentences or an entire section, please surround the text that you are responding to with parenthesis (the text would go between the two parentheses as shown). Once you have woken up and read this, please acknowledge that you have read and understood these instructions.

Patton read it over a few times to make sure he had it right before surrounding the entire set of instructions in parenthesis and placing a ✓ at the end of it. A few moments later writing began to appear. It was breathtaking to watch, seeing the text appear mark by mark without a pen or pencil in the way. It was so entrancing that three whole lines of text appeared before Patton remembered to actually read it.

Salutations. You may call me Logic. I was the one wearing the blue accessories at Lord Hart’s dinner. I will be calling you ‘Heart’ for the time being, since it is phonetically similar to ‘Hart’ in English. The language that I am currently writing in is German, the same language that your cookbook was in. I have been made aware that you are severely lacking in multiple areas, specifically writing. Hopefully your knowledge and skill will improve over the next few months as these lessons progress. While I was originally told to teach you about Fae culture as a whole, we will instead be learning about how to survive a Fae encounter from a human perspective. While none of the faries in this manor would intentionally harm you, you could seriously endanger yourself if you interact with some of them without proper precaution. The fairies in purple and yellow are not allowed to speak with you unless Prince is present, and not after you’ve learned the correct precautionary measures. The Fae in purple has already let you call him Umbra, but he wanted me to inform you that you may call him Anx or Anxiety. The Fae in yellow has said that you may call him Deceit. Please ask any questions now or indicate that you understand so we may continue.

Patton underlined the word ‘phonetically’ and was happy to receive a definition immediately afterword. Phonetically- In the way it sounds. He read over the passage again and frowned, a familiar unease settling in the back of his mind as he read the names. He underlined ‘You may call me Logic’ and placed a question mark over ‘Logic.’ He frowned when he read the text that appeared under the passage.

Logic is what you would refer to me with. For example, you could tell the Duke ‘Logic is teaching me how to take proper precautions against Fae.

Patton frowned, putting an X next to the answer. That’s not the question he was asking! He underlined ‘Logic’ and put an X over it, then proceed to do that with all of the Fae names, and the name ‘Heart’ that Logic had given him. After that he underlined ‘Lord Hart’ and placed a ✓ above it. Lastly, he underlined ‘You may call me’ again and placed a question mark on top of it. He watched for several minutes as the page remained the same before a response eventually appeared at the bottom.

Heart, I assume the issue is the use of real names over fake names. But I have a question to ask first: do you believe my name is Logic or Glacies? Patton immediately put an X over both names, and there seemed to be a pause before Logic started writing again. Have you ever felt an odd sensation occur when a fairy gave you a name to call them by? An itching in your skin, a niggling in the back of your mind, an unnatural sense of unease? Patton sighed in relief, placing a ✓ above each description. One last question: has anyone’s magic caused you to gain nosebleeds, nausea or intense headaches? Patton placed an X at the end of the sentence and the writing seemed much more relaxed as it wrote. That is fortunate. If you had, you would have been showing symptoms for what is basically an immunity disorder caused by an oversensitivity to magic. Some mortals are unknowingly born with it, and the constant exposure of magic would have eventually made you permanently ill and potentially send you into a magical coma or kill you. Though I am not sure why you displayed the first set of symptoms. You were clearly sensitive enough to notice the magic being used, but you didn’t suffer any ill effects. I will have to look into that as time goes on.

In order to understand why the names feel odd, we first need to go over how Fae magic works. There are two types of Fae magic: physical magic and negotiation magic. Physical magic involves the magic you’ve seen occur inside this manor: Prince’s fire magic, the enchantment on your wardrobe (which I performed) and the enchantment on these books that allow us to communicate. Physical magic only requires the fairy in question to perform it, and while it is weaker than negotiational magic, the effects are extremely specific and easy to control. Negotiation magic requires a deal to be made between the Fae and someone else. One of the most powerful and dangerous parts of negotiational magic is the power behind one’s name. All names are extremely valuable but only to those who can wield negotiational magic. When you openly give away your name, you essentially create a deal where you give away the ability to control your actions in exchange for practically nothing. When Prince ordered Lord and Lady Hart to sit down and not focus on the door behind them, they performed the actions as if they had came up with the idea. This was because they gave away their names to Prince without knowing the consequences. If you were aware that you gave your name away to a fairy, you could attempt to fight their control, but you would most likely be unsuccessful. That is why instead of saying “my name is” then saying your real name, you instead say “you may call me” then state a fake name for them to call you. We give you fake names to refer to us by because while you couldn’t do anything as a human, you could accidentally give our names away to a fairy or witch with ill-intent. And while you can trust everyone in this manor, Anxiety and Deceit are born fairies, so they may accidentally use their power over you in initial interactions, as it is within their nature to do so.

Patton sighed in relief as he read over Logic’s explanation. Knowing that there was a reason for his sense of unease and that he wasn’t just being freaky relieved him. He read over the last sentence and frowned, underlining ‘born’ and put a question mark next to it. There was hesitation again before Logan responded.

There are many types of supernatural beings in this world, Heart, and many types of fairies as well. The two main types of fairies are born fairies and transformed fairies. The difference is just as it sounds: born fairies were born as fairies with all of their parents being Fae as well. Transformed fairies were once human but were turned into Fae. Born fairies are more in tune with their magic and specialize in negotiation magic, but they tend to perform said magic subconsciously. Transformed fairies take time to be in tune with their magic and specialize in physical magic, and they are forced to be conscious of their magic as soon as they gain it so they don’t accidentally injure themselves.

Patton’s head was left spinning from that explanation. Humans could turn into fairies?! How was that possible? And Logic had said that only Anxiety and Deceit were born fairies, did that mean that the rest of them were transformed? And what did he mean by ‘all of their parents’? Why didn’t he just say ‘both’? Patton frantically scribbled at the paper, trying to properly convey all of his questions. The pause this time was even longer, the hesitancy obvious as Logic answered.

You aren’t ready to know most of those answers. If you end up staying here, you will most likely gain your answers over the years as you grow. But I will answer one of them, if only so that you don’t try and snoop around. Prince and the Duke were human twins and made a deal with their own Fairy Godfather. After they grew up they were transformed into fairies. Soon after they transformed they met Anxiety and Deceit, two born fairies. Prince and Anxiety are mates, along with the Duke and Deceit. Around 30 years ago I made a deal with the Duke to be my Fairy Godfather. I was 12 at the time, and when I turned 18 I was transformed. The term ‘Fairy Godfather’ is actually quite a loose term: they are simply the fairy that houses you and protects you until you come of age, where you are then either transformed into a fae or sent back into the human world. If you are transformed you gain magic, your aging slows to a crawl and you become an official member of the family. If you return to the human world, you’ll have either your memories wiped or your tour tongue tied to prevent you from informing the human population of the knowledge of the Fae. Again, you don’t need to fully comprehend all of this yet. You still haven’t completed your deal with Prince yet, and most of this information won’t be valuable to you until you’re nearing 18. Right now you need to learn how to safely interact with other fae and learn skills that will be useful in both the Fae and human worlds, such as writing and math.

Patton felt his head spin at the information but he ended up putting a ✓ at the end anyways. He still had a lot of questions, but he understood that he needed to wait until he was older to ask them. It baffled him that all of this information would be taught to him as he neared 18. He was turning 15 in a few months! Could he really learn all of that and more in just 3 years?

I think you have learned enough for now, Heart. Prince should be by in a few minutes to take you to breakfast. I suggest you try and read the first two chapters of the book next to you before dinner tonight. The sooner you learn how to protect yourself, the sooner you can leave your room and interact with the other Fae. I would like to speak with you again tomorrow morning to see if you have any questions regarding the reading material. Does this sound acceptable? Patton quickly wrote down a ✓ and the message continued. Then I shall talk to you tomorrow. Farewell.

Patton waited to make sure that no more writing appeared before closing the notebook. He sat it down and closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady. That was a lot of information, especially in one sitting. He’d only known about the existence of fairies for a little over a day! He was still waiting for Prince to punish him for his misbehavior or give him a list of impossible chores to do. Or worse, send him back to Hart manor. He shuddered at the thought, shaking his head. His Fairy Godfather had promised to protect him and make him happy, and Patton trusted him.

Knock knock knock

Patton leapt out of bed and answered the door, finding Prince waiting patiently on the other side. “Good morning, young one. Ready for breakfast?”

Patton bit his lip, looking down at his feet as he summoned his courage. “Could- could you call me Heart? Please?”

Prince kneeled down, gently grabbing Patton’s chin and tilting it to where he was looking him in the eye. “I will gladly call you whatever you wish to be called, Heart.” He held out his free hand. “Will you please join me for breakfast, Heart?”

Patton smiled and nodded, his heart swelling with joy as he took his Fairy Godfather’s hand.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

#sanders sides fic #Fairy Mafia #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders

32 notes · View notes

damn-stark · 4 years

Text

Crossed Stars Ch.5

A/N— I was thinking about how if you guys want to do some aesthetic boards based on reader and her boys, like a Poe x reader and a Steve x reader aesthetic boards! I would post them on the Masterlist and obviously reblog or post on my page!

Warning- swearing, violence, angst, slow burn, loong chapter! Rollercoster of emotions!!

Pairing- Poe Dameron x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Takes place- after Infinity war & after TROS

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

———

Poe quietly watched as Steve and you talked in the distance, a smile on your face much like Steve’s, accompanied by a soft look, one Poe knew well, a look that hurt him. He never knew why you hated him, you were once best friends and then one day out of nowhere you just couldn’t stand the sight of him. He could’ve asked, it was that easy but he was stubborn and a proud man, and well you were as stubborn as him so he never did and let it pass. A choice he always regretted.

He let out a deep sigh and turned to Natasha who was walking his way. She glanced over to what he was previously looking at, and that said everything to her, she shared a slow nod and a half smile, actions Poe didn’t understand, but soon was.

“How long have you been in love with her?”

Poe’s snickered as he shook his head in denial, soon stammering with his answer, “I’m not...in love with her.”

Natasha scoffed, she wasn’t one to be fooled, she knew how to read people and Poe was one of them, he wasn’t hard to read at all. “Don’t lie to me. I know.”

Poe turned back to look at you, his frown replacing the straight line he tried to carry. He wanted to lie again, but it was stupid to do so, he needed to tell someone.

He inhaled deeply as he kept his gaze fixated on you, “since the day I met her.”

—

You quietly admired the fighters that flew off the hanger from the halls of the place you were going to call home now (A huge step up from Tatooine that was for sure) Thinking to yourself that one day that was going to be you. You were manifesting that into the universe. Soon you were going to be one of those pilots. Soon.

“First day here?” A voice asked, causing your shoulders to jump, not expecting anyone to talk to you. You spun to face the voice, instantly seeing an amusing and at the same time an apologetic smile on the mans face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His eyes showed the same smile he showed on his lips; only his eyes also showed a warmness to them, something that went with the brown of his eyes.

You showed a nervous smile, not knowing how to respond to the charming man in front of you, “it’s okay. Really.” You quickly shared before answering his previous question, “and yes it’s my first day here, is it yours?”

The man kept his gaze locked on yours, seeming as if he was reading into you, just really studying every inch of your face, something that you couldn’t help but feel shy about. He took a moment to answer, but did it nonetheless, this time talking with a bit more of a hidden cockiness in his tone. “Yeah same here.”

“Is it that obvious? Do I really look that lost?” You said, unsure and unaware with the boost of confidence and comfort you felt with this man.

He chuckled, a gesture that made you smile before he answered, “no not lost. Just...how can I explain this, uhh, wide eyed, you look amazed, just really taken by this place.”

“Well I am from Tatooine, there is nothing to see there but sand...and more sand. This place is a complete change of scenery.” You explained.

He nodded in comprehension before asking something else, “what made you join the republic defense fleet out of all things?”

You shook your head while briefly glancing back to the busy hanger in the distance, “you’re going to think it’s a cliche so I won’t respond that.”

“I won’t judge, so please answer.”

“Anakin Skywalker. He inspired me.” You begin with a grin, “I just mean, being from Tatooine I grew up with stories about him and Luke Skywalker, both born and raised there. The more I heard and heard the same stories, the more I realized that we both shared similar childhoods, albeit not compeletly the same but there’s similarities. And after realizing that, they both really became my hero’s, both great pilots that came from nothing, they became famous war hero’s from Tatooine. They got out of there and I wanted to do the same, of being the same.”

You look back to the curly headed man and immediately apologize for rambling on and boring him, “I’m sorry I rambled. I didn’t mean to bore you.”

He remained quiet for a couple seconds, a soft look on his features and a small smile on his lips, he had to blink a couple times to break from his stupor and quickly come up with an answer, “no, no I’m not bored. It was a great. Better than my own reason.” You quirked your eyebrow and before you could ask for his reason he introduced himself with a charming grin, “I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.” You smiled.

—

“We’re here. This is Tatooine.” You beamed as you practically hopped off your seat to rush to the opening ramp. Not missing Rockets remark to the dry planet.

“This? It’s just a piece of hot rock and sand!”

You roll your eyes and ignore his remark, exiting the the hanger quietly while Steve fell to your side. You looked to him with a smile, grabbing his hand to take him to finally see the ever so anticipated binary suns. “Its not a sunset, but we’ll see that soon. For now though this is Tatooine.” Steve had the same amazed reaction he showed when he saw the flying colors of hyperspace, wide-eyed and amazed by the beauty of space. A world he never knew existed.

“You better hurry before we miss your friend,” Dameron interrupted as he walked past Steve and you.

You scoffed and let go of Steve’s hand, walking ahead to lead the way to the only place where you knew he might be, the tavern. A place where their were all types of people, a lot of them looking for a job to take or a bounty to hunt. Their was the occasional traveler, tourist that just came and went with no trouble. Jaro was, well he was in between.

When you entered the well known tavern like in many of the other places it was quiet, albeit this place had more people than the last. You looked around, but didn’t spot the familiar red headed man you knew, you didn’t give up though, you walked to the bar and ordered drinks before asking the bartender what it was you were looking for. Ignoring the looks and comments sentients shot all of you, especially to Nebula who stood silently at the end of the group, shooting glares to the men that tried to approach her.

“Has Jaro Kestis been around recently?”

The bartender looked at you up and down, leaning on the counter while extending his hand, gesturing what he needed to talk. You scoffed but took out credits nonetheless, handing it to him to finally make him talk.

“The kid has been around, today in fact, he should be back if he knows what’s good for him.” And with that, the sentient turned to attend someone else.

“Let’s wait.” You don’t wait for an answer and instead take a seat in a nearby booth, not being able to stop your leg from anxiously bouncing up and down. Only distracting yourself with the drinks that came to your table. You grabbed the blue moof milk and pushed it towards Steve, “try it.”

He looked at the drink and questioned it, “is it supposed to be blue?”

“Yes.” You interject.

He lifts the drink and takes a small sip, his nose instantly scrunching at the taste on his tongue. When he puts the drink down he feigns a smile and fakes a response, “it’s...good.”

You chuckle softly and take the drink from him. “It’s okay, it’s not for everyone.” You push it towards Natasha and just before you could tell her to taste it, theirs loud commotion from one of the booths behind you, before anyone could ask, Rocket is running to your booth, a new bag hanging around his shoulder and carrying a metal hand...that wasn’t his.

“Rocket?! What did you do?!” Nebula exclaimed.

“We better go.” He urged.

You began to protest his comment, knowing that whatever he was doing was ruining your plans, “we have to wait for Jaro. We can’t leave.”

Before anyone could respond, the same sentients Rocket was arguing with stomped towards you with blasters in hand, “this triangle face monkey stole from us—”

“It was a fair game! I won it fair and square.” Rocket shot back, refusing to let go of the metal arm.

“Rocket.” Nebula hissed.

“We want no trouble. Our friend will return your...arm and we’ll get going.” Steve tried to defend, but the sentients didn’t want to listen, forcing you all to pull out your weapons too.

One of them glared at you, aiming his weapon on your forehead, “we can take all three women. And consider it forgotten.” He smirked.

You show a smug smile and slowly lower your blaster to his crotch, shooting him burning glare, and just before Dameron or Steve could do anything, or before the ugly sentient could say anything else, someone new spoke up.

“Wow, wow hey. No need for violence, let’s break it up.” You look over to the voice noticing who it was. Jaro. He walks up to you and takes the blaster from your hand, pushing the sentient threatening you back. “It’s okay these are,” he looks to the group you’re with and notices the new faces traveling with you, “my...friends.”

The sentients say something to him in their native tongue, something he responds to before they hesitantly leave the area you were in. Jaro turns back to you, his eyes searching for someone missing in the crowd, “where’s your brunette friend?”

You frown knowing exactly who he was referring to, “Rey is gone. We’re actually here to talk about that, you’re the only person I know with the connection to the force, we need you.”

“Hmm,” his little droid climbs to his shoulder as he runs his fingers through his red hair, “why me?”

As quick as you could, you explain why you needed him, that and the only reason being that he could contact force ghosts, the only people you knew would have answers. You knew little of how he could do something like that, Rey had explained a lot about it...but it was all confusing that you only grasped a small part of it.

“Of course, why didn’t I think of that sooner.” He exclaims with a grin, “not here though, let’s go to my ship.”

—

You bite your bottom lip before as you pace back and forth impatiently, waiting for the anticipated answer that Jaro was going to provide on how to bring everyone back. The silence and the tension that was built inside was eating you up inside, no one spoke, they all nervously waited, some showing more hidden emotions than others.

The feeling of not knowing if he had found something was just tearing you apart, you just couldn’t take it. You were going to go crazy.

So instead you quickly exit the ship, inhaling and exhaling deeply as if being inside had been cutting off your oxygen. Being in there in fact had kept you distracted from what you wanted to see. The sunset. Now that you saw it though, the excitement from before was gone.

“It is beautiful, you were right,” you suddenly heard Steve muse, his eyes glued to the soft pink, orange and purple colors painted in the sky.

You sigh, briefly looking at the sunset before looking at Steve, noticing the soft colors basking his face in a gentle way, the colors reflecting in his eyes in a beautiful way.

“I would work all day under the burning suns, it was tiring especially when I was younger. The older I got the more I got used to the work I was forced to do,” You explained, his eyes turning to focus on you, “and everyday it was the same, no matter how old I got. The only thing the got me through the days were thinking of seeing this view. Everyday I would look forward to seeing this because it meant that I was done with the day and I got to enjoy the few hours of freedom.”

Telling your story that few people knew, was a way to distract yourself from the answer that was soon going to be known, it distracted you from the anxiety you felt inside.

“Your parents were hard on you.”

You shake your head in disagreement, “I never got to meet my parents. They died when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve mumbled.

“It’s okay,” You assure him, “I tell myself that if I didn’t go through what I went through I wouldn’t be who I am, or be where I am today. A slave turned General.”

Steve frowned slightly at what you said, not really knowing how to respond at first. Not until he finally had the right words to say. “Many people with your background would have gone down a different path, making excuses that it was because what they went through, but not you.” He showed a reassuring smile, walking closer towards you, “I know I barely know you, but I see that you’re strong and don’t take anything from anyone. You’re determined and independent, I admire that.”

You smile sweetly at his comment, feeling your cheeks heat up—But that could totally be because of the heat from the lowering suns, or how close he suddenly was; “thank you.” You say in an unwanted whisper.

He looks down at you and you both stay quiet, nothing else spoken and hearing each other’s light breathing, something that slowly picked up. His eyes only left yours to travel further down to your lips, a movement you soon copied, neither of you making the first move to close that small gap left between you two. You were kind of waiting for him to do it, but he wasn’t doing anything, so instead you captured his lips in a sweet kiss.

The action caught him by surprise, but he soon got over it to kiss you back. You followed by bringing your hand up to cup his cheek, deepening the kiss slightly before you both pulled away. The both of you smiled after and before either of you could express anything about what had just happened—which you didn’t even know exactly, it was different, it felt different compared to other moments you’ve shared with...different people. It was sweet though, that you couldn’t deny, he was sweet.

Dameron appeared on the ramp, “Jaro is back.” He announced dryly, not waiting for an answer to disappear back into the ship.

Steve and you didn’t hesitate to head back inside, your nerves presenting themselves again, and only worsening when you came face to face with Jaro.

The ginger looked to the floor with a frown, making your heart race and tears pool your eyes.

“I talked with the past Jedi Master’s and...” he looked back to all of you, noticing the anticipation and hope in all of your faces, his frown deepening at the sight.

“What did they say.” Natasha interjected what you all were thinking.

Jaro hesitated, swallowing thickly before he answered, “theirs nothing we can do,” he paused briefly, “but accept fate.”

You had failed. You had fucking failed.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, but you didn’t let anymore roll down, and instead tried to hold in every emotion, even if all you could hear repeating in your head were the words Jaro said. They didn’t let you hear anything else said around you, everything just tuned out and time passed slowly and you moved without knowing that you were. Nothing registered in your head but the thought of you failing.

It wasn’t until you were outside once again that you returned back to the failed reality you lived in, hearing the commotion coming from your group.

“What the hell did you do Rocket?” Nebula stressed.

Rocket shrugged innocently, but as he did, Artoo pulled out multiple items from his bag. All high value items, weapons and gadgets used by scoundrels, and lastly a small locked box.

“Thank you a lot tin-can.” Rocket seethed.

“Just give it back.” You urged.

“It doesn’t look like they want to avoid trouble. We better hurry back to the ship.” Natasha exclaimed.

Just like she said, you all hastily made your way back to the Falcon, now avoiding incoming blasts.

“Shit.” You cursed whilst pulling out your blaster and shooting back; “we’re not getting anywhere on foot we need—”

“Speeders!” Dameron pointed, leading the way and stealing the speeders to attempt your escape.

Steve, Rocket, Artoo and you got on one, while Dameron, Natasha, Nebula and BB8 got on a separate one. The owners protested against your actions, but you ignored them, Steve though...well he apologized.

“You!” You directed to Rocket, “drive the speeder, I’m going to get rid of these shits.” Rocket didn’t hesitate to take the wheel before you rushed towards the end of the speeder, pulling out your blaster and throwing one to Steve, “I don’t think your shields or your fists are going to work for this one,” you joked before pulling out a hidden one for yourself.

Blasts kept firing at you and at the group a couple feet behind you, blasts that you avoided and returned with equal fury. A smile made it on your lips as you successfully shot one of the thugs shooting at you, but you’re celebration was cut off as another set of thugs appeared from out of nowhere and joined the fight, slamming into your speeder and shooting your blaster out of your hand.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Your eyes frantically searched the speeder for anything you could use as a weapon, but their was nothing on here but crates.

“Take this one.” Steve suggested, trying to hand you back your blaster, but you declined it.

“No you need it, I’ll find—” Artoo ended your search when he handed you gadgets from Rockets stolen bag. You smiled at your little companion, shouting a compliment for his fast thinking, “what would I do without you?” Quickly you activated the gadgets and threw it under one of thugs shooting at you.

At first you weren’t sure it was going to do anything but soon the thug disintegrated in front of your eyes. “Uh. Okay. That happened.” The thugs at your side shot at you again, this time with more anger. Artoo handed you another one and again you threw it to the thugs speeder. One of them tried to climb on your speeder, but before he could, you kicked him back with your boot, and seconds later instead of disintegrating like his companion the speeder blew up in tiny pieces.

A proud smile made it on your slips and while you spun back to face the remaining thugs, a blast hit your shoulder at the same time, the impact causing you to fall off the speeder. You groaned in pain as you rolled on the ground, feeling the sand burn your exposed skin until you finally came to a stop. You lifted the upper half of your body to search for any weapon or just anything you could use, but only disappointed yourself when you saw nothing but...sand.

At the sound of the thugs approaching you at a quick speed, you strained to get to your feet, standing your ground even without weapons in your hands. Wiping blood off your bottom lip with your hand, and shooting them a burning glare that showed them you weren’t scared. A stupid idea really, but you’ve faced worse and they didn’t make the list of people that scared you.

Before they could attempt to hit you, you were tackled to the ground. Once again burning your skin and hitting your wound as you rolled on the sand, coming to a stop with a groan and noticing that Dameron was the one that had pushed you out of the way, hovering above you, one hand on the ground at the side of your head looking down at you with a narrowed gaze.

“I’ve seen you do stupid things throughout the years I’ve known you, and this is one of them.”

“I can say the same thing for you.” You groaned, registering the sharp burning pain on your wound now.

Dameron stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes examining your body for other wounds beside the obvious one on your shoulder. “You know,” he began smugly, not being able to finish what he was going to say as you fully realized—more like finally decided to acknowledge that he was still on top of you.

“Get. Off. Me.” You hissed, shooting him a glare.

He did, but not without adding a stupid remark. “Oh, you’re very welcome for saving you sweetheart.” He tried to offer his hand to help you up but you ignored it and pushed yourself off your feet instead. You looked back up to see that all the thugs were all gone now, only seeing as Steve and the rest of the group came back for Dameron and you.

From the corner of your eye you looked to Dameron and whispered your response, “thank you.”

He smiled, but that smile soon disappeared as Steve came to your side, expressing the worry Poe also felt, but didn’t express because Steve interrupted him.

“Are you okay?”

You managed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes before you assured Steve, “I’ve been through worse, I’ll be okay. Let’s head back to the Falcon.”

—

After returning to the Falcon you kept to yourself, assuring everyone that you were really fine, because you were...for the most part. It was all just hard, dealing with what you heard was hard, you didn’t even want to think about it because when you did all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. You couldn’t just simply accept the fact that you had lost, so for a moment while you patched your wounds you solely focused on that and nothing else.

“Stupid shit.” You curse under your breath while trying to put bacta on your blaster wound, which was incredibly hard doing so alone. “Shit,” You groan, before dropping the bacta on the ground when you heard the loud knock on the door. “I’m okay Steve. Really!” You shout over your shoulder as you drop to the ground to pick the bacta.

The door slides open and just as you were going to assure Steve you noticed that it was someone else completely, “Dameron.”

His eyes fall to your wound and then dropped to see what you were doing, following your every movement until you stood back up and kept trying to patch yourself up. Again.

“You need help?” He asked, walking up to you regardless of your answer.

“No.” You strained and lied, “You can leave.”

Dameron rolled his eyes at your stubborn response and turned to walk away, without a response or another attempt to help. Because after all you had your....“boyfriend” Steve to help you instead. You didn’t need him when you had Steve—well Poe didn’t know if you and Steve were dating, he had seen the kiss but he never asked, only guessed.

However the case was though, it didn’t matter, you preferred Steve, you liked Steve. As much as that thought hurt Poe, he needed to accept that you and him...well it was never going to happen. He just needed to let you go.

But he couldn’t. He just fucking couldn’t. So he swallowed his pride and marched back into that room, snatching the bacta from your hand even against your protests and annoyed scoff.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, sitting in silence and letting Dameron patch you up. You didn’t groan, whine or squirm around every time he touched your wound. After all you were used to the pain, years of fighting a war how could you not?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dameron asked as he walked around you to grab the gauze from the counter.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and the answer was a blunt, “no.”

He sighed, debating if he should discuss what the both of you had heard, knowing that it was a conversation you both needed and something he wanted to let you talk about, but he also knew that you wouldn’t say anything on the regard if you weren’t ready. So instead he choose to leave that as it was and continued to wrap your wound.

When he moved to stand in front of you, you tried to ignore how close he actually was. Tried your best to avoid looking up at him, tried to ignore the feeling of his warm breaths that came out of his nose hit your own. Unknowingly swearing that if you really focused you would hear his heart beat in his chest, you tried to avoid focusing on the exposed tan skin that his slightly unbuttoned shirt showed, the way his sliver chain seemed to shine around his neck.

But nonetheless as much as you did try, your eyes ended up on his face, noticing that the clean face he once had was now covered in dark stubble. “You’re growing your beard?”

Dameron smirked, his eyes meeting your own, “You like it?”

You swallowed thickly and avoided eye contact, “I—I”

He chuckled lightly, pulling up your tanks strap, his hand lingering on your exposed shoulder for a moment before he shoved his hands in his pockets, staying still in front of you even after he was finished, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Take it however you like,” you remarked, “just know it makes you seem old.”

“We are old sweetheart.”

“You maybe,” you teased, “not me.”

He let out an amused huff of air, your gaze once again locking with his for brief moment before you pulled yours away; in that moment Poe wanted to talk about Steve and you, to just really clear the air, but as he parted his lips to do so, he couldn’t. Instead he decided that it was best to accept fate. Or whatever the fuck Jaro said. Even if Poe didn’t want to.

“Do you need help?” You asked in almost a whisper, “I just mean you must’ve gotten your skin burnt when we fell.”

“No,” he assured you with a smile, “it was just a couple scratches, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Sure, you weren’t.”

Finally after a long moment of neither of you moving from where you were, you came to your full senses and pushed him out of the way to walk out of the room, and before you could walk out he spoke up.

“What happened?”

You stopped by the door and looked over your shoulder, quirking your eyebrow at his question, a gesture that made him continue.

“With us? I just mean we were once best friends...maybe something more, and you just out of nowhere started hating me. Why?”

Way to ruin the mood.

You sighed and fully turned around to face him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He scoffed and shook his head, slowly making his way to you. “You always say that. Why don’t you just give me a clear answer? What did I do?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You try to walk away but he’s quick and grabs your arm, turning you to face him to see that he was serious.

“Just tell me. I...just tell me.”

Your eyes began to water and you did want to explain why. Why it was that you began to hate him, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to explain, not when you still hadn’t talked about the other thing. Not when you knew that you would break down in front of him.

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your arm out of his grasp and sped away, letting him just watch your quick retreating figure. He would’ve followed, he really would’ve, but he didn’t feel like arguing with you.

Even if he really should have pressed further. He should have talked to you.

—

“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honor, bravery and sacrifice.”

You quietly walked down the path of the museum, watching in admiration every story, photo, and paintings that decorated the walls of the museum. Some place you had wondered to in your attempt to clear your mind. You just walked and walked, getting onto a train and then walking some more. Avoiding the loud protest in the streets, all of them about the hero’s you were staying with.

All you needed and wanted to do was just clear your mind on what had recently happened, your kiss with Steve, the talk that Dameron wanted to have and the knowledge that you had failed. It all just flooded your mind. You just needed to be alone for a moment. Even if you knew that everything was just waiting to overflow. It was all just going to break eventually. Sooner or later you were going to have to face the problems.

In moments like these though is when you missed General Organa and Rey, they always helped you, always seemed to have an answer for everything. Especially General Organa.

“Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American Warfare. One that would transform him into the worlds first super solider.”

You stood grounded for a minute, watching the transformation that Steve went through. Coming to realization that apparently in earth years he was one hundred years old, but he didn’t age because of ice and a serum?

Weird...and yet something that didn’t bug you or make you see him any different. He was just a man. No serum changed that.

He was a great man, he was a gentlemen and nicer than other men you knew and others that you’ve dated.

Perhaps. Maybe something more can happen between the both of you. The kiss proved that and well you wouldn’t be against it....would you?

Their was also that other person that you couldn’t stop thinking about. And he. Well he...was different.

Fucking stars. Why couldn’t this all be easy?

You ran your hand through your hair and let out a exhausted sigh, making your way out of the museum and slowly starting your path back to the compound, knowing that they should be wondering where you were. You had left without saying anything, mostly because you didn’t want to talk.

While trying to make your way back though you noticed someone was following you. Their face was hidden behind a creepy green mask and they had a black hood on. Something that matched the protesters from before.

Ignoring the strange figure you proceeded to walk faster, heading back to the train station from before. In the moment the station came to view, two more had randomly appeared, one sporting a red mask and the other one with a mask of a man with golden hair.

You reached for your blaster, but came out empty handed, realizing that you had left back it in your room. “Fuck.” Quickening your pace you slightly look over your shoulder seeing them still on your heels. When you looked forward again their was someone now in front of you with a mask of...Captain America. Without stopping to talk, you tried to walk past the stranger, but you were suddenly grabbed by the men behind you.

You kicked your feet and struggled, tried to scream out, but suddenly one of them behind you slapped their hand on your mouth, slapping a wet cloth on your nose. It carried a weird smell, and the more you tried to fight their hold, the weaker you began to feel, the once clear view was blurred and everything began to spin. Your fight became nothing and your eyes were slowly dropping until...

....Nothing.

A/N- Team Rogers? Or Team Dameron?

Tagged- @itsbuckyb1tch, @kaitlynw011 , @blushingwueen , @80sthottie, @thescarletknight2014 , @bbuckysbeardd , @ellvswriting , @sakurashortstack , @whatthefrickfrackwereyouthinking, @danicalifxrnia , @lanatheawesome , @perryoncw , @panic-onthegroundsofbrooklyn , @abysshaven , @valeecruz16 , @gummy-bears16 , @winchescumberholland , @a-somehow-functioning-dumbass , @randomhanabananas , @just-a-sad-chicken-nugget-xxx

Permanent taglist- @ms-dont-care , @commondazy

72 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 4 years

Text

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (126/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[20 July, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

"Okay, so Treekul's in a bad spot. She should have been more careful about who she got mixed up with. Yeah, and she shouldn't have been so eager to run off on another quest. But that's what makes Treekul cool, you know? Other alchemical historians? They just sit in libraries all day, poring over dusty holo-fiches. But Treekul goes out and finds things. And for once, she had backup. Two Saiyans, Lesseri and Endive, and then we picked up a third, Guwar. With their support, I could discover all sorts of artifacts."

Treekul stopped, shook her head, and gestured to slow down. "I mean she could discover," she said. "Sorry. My therapist always told me this works better if I refer to myself in the third person. You'd think I'd be used to this by now, but I-- but Treekul's under a little more stress than usual. Like I said, it was handy to have three Saiyans backing her up, even if they only wanted her to find things for them, at least she knew no one would mess with her. And she scored some decent leads along the way. There's a treasure trove of artifacts in that penthouse on Quadzityz, assuming it survived the war. Lesseri and Endive killed the owner and wrecked the security systems, and most of that stuff isn't even valuable to anyone else. Nothing to stop Treekul from walking in and helping herself. Another paper for the academic journals. If she ever makes it out of this mess, that is."

She began to pace back and forth around her modest living quarters. The strips of red fabric that made up her "robes" trailed behind her legs as she walked.

"The Saiyans were looking for a cult," she continued. "And Treekul heard it was named after 'jindan', an alchemical term for mercuric sulfide. Or, rather, the fundamental principle that mercuric sulfide represents. So she saw an opportunity and agreed to help them find this cult, using her expertise with a geomantic compass. Guwar was a mathematician, if you can believe that, so he helped out with the calculations. He was a really nice guy. Bit of an inferiority complex, but I get the feeling that goes for every Saiyan."

She stopped herself again. "Not 'was', 'is'. Guwar is a nice guy," she said. "Just because no one's told me what happened to him doesn't necessarily mean he got killed in the war. It's just... Treekul could really use his help right now. Or even if he can't help, it'd be nice if he were here to listen to her, like he did back on the ship, before they found the Jindan cult.

"Turns out the cult was real all along, and they leave just enough bread crumbs out there so that other Saiyans can find them. Their leader is the Saiyan King, Rehval III, but here, he calls himself 'Trismegistus', a reference to the Thrice Blessed alchemist from ancient writings. Rehval seems to think he's uncovered some great secret, something that makes him the greatest alchemist ever, and from what I've seen, he might be right about that. His Jindan potion makes Saiyans even stronger, and he must have thousands of them working for him. Only trouble is that they have to give up their free will. Rehval tells them what to eat, when to sleep, they all have sex in some 'breeding pit' thing that I don't even want to think about..."

She paused to rub the bridge of her nose, then ran her hand over the short green hair on her lavender scalp. It was normally a satisfying feeling for her, but not this time, her hair was too long for that by now.

"The others all did whatever Rehval told them to. All they cared about was power. They brought Treekul here, and no one was interested in how she got home. No payday, no paper, no treasure trove of artifacts. Instead, Rehval decided to keep her as some sort of alien pet. He thinks he can train her to be an alchemist, and so far he hasn't done too bad a job of it, at least when he's not creeping on her. It makes me... It makes her want to scream. But that's okay. It's okay for her to be frightened. She's never been this afraid, and she's got good reason to be."

She stopped pacing and looked intently in the direction of her bed. "So here's the good news. Treekul has options. Sure, she's not any closer to getting off this planet than when she first arrived, but she hasn't been wasting time either. Treekul didn't get this far without being resourceful. She can be absolutely terrified and still get herself out of this. That's what makes her strong."

She went to a small writing desk along the wall of her room and picked up a scroll. It carried a faint odor of rotten eggs and olefins. "Rehval's convinced that she'll become his apprentice, I guess ruling over the Saiyans like a god isn't enough for him, he wants to pass down his knowledge of alchemy. Well, fine. If he's as talented as he says he is, maybe he'll show Treekul a little more than he should. Something she can use to get out of here. For instance, this scroll belonging to Mirdane talks about disguising yourself perfectly, even down to smell and ki signature. If Treekul can get good enough at alchemy to figure that out, she could walk right up to the shipyard and be halfway to the next star system before anyone knew she was missing.

"I know what you're thinking: Treekul's a quick study, but she's an archaeologist who studies alchemists, not an alchemist herself, so maybe that plan is little too ambitious. Fair point. Which is why she's been working other angles. The boss wants her to play one of his priestesses, right? He's dressed her up in a cocktail dress that went through a blender. Well, that gives her access to all his brainwashed goons, and all that undeserved authority that comes with it. She hasn't heard from the acolytes who offered to show me around the hangar, but they seemed pretty enthusiastic about it. Don't worry, when they finally take her on the tour, Treekul won't spend too much time there, just enough to get a feel for the place when it's time for her to snoop around by herself.

"And if that doesn't pan out there's always Endive. Too bad about her. For a while there, I was sure she'd turn on the boss. From what I hear, Rehval does something to the cultist's memories, so they don't recognize him as the king, even of they knew him before when he ruled Planet Saiya. At some point Endive must have found out that "Trismegistus" is the same guy who killed her father, but she doesn't seem to care. He's been using her for one of his casual sex hookups for weeks now. I thought..."

She stopped and took a seat in her chair, then looked down at the red flats on her feet. "I just thought-- Treekul thought Endive was smarter than that. She was so disciplined and focused. You'd think she wouldn't be so easily manipulated, but... she's become completely devoted to him, and the scariest thing is that you can tell she knows it's wrong. But enough about her. If Endive and Lesseri won't help Treekul, then Treekul needs to forget about them."

She stood up and started pacing again. "Speaking of sex... Treekul doesn't want to go down that road, but she has to keep it in mind. Rehval has his followers convinced that he needs a rotation of women to share his bed. Something about 'balancing his bodily humors', but I think we all know he just wants to have a good time. He wants Treekul for some reason. All those women at his beck and call, and he wants the one woman on the planet who isn't interested. It's like he's waiting for her to fall madly in love with him. Yeah, good luck with that. Still... if she's going to earn his trust, she need to play along with his expectations. Maybe she ought to flirt a little, so he'll think his plan is working. He's not exactly unattractive, it's the whole 'delusions of grandeur' thing that's a turn-off."

Treekul stopped and crossed her arms as she looked at the bed. "Here's the problem. If she's not careful, he'll probably get bored with her and have her brainwashed like everyone else on this planet. Or he'll just kill her for being an alien. On the other hand, if she's too careful, and Treekul waste too much time playing the eager disciple, the he won't need to brainwash her, because she'll basically be doing it for him. Ugh! What a fix."

"Um, were you finished?"

"Huh?"

The Saiyan man lying on her bed had sat up and pointed to his ears, which were stuffed with wax. "I'm on duty in ten minutes," he said. "Unless you need me to stay here..."

Treekul gestured at her own ears for him to remove the wax, and so he did.

"Yeah, all finished," she said. "You were amazing, Zhoybok."

"It's an honor, madam priestess," he said as he rose from the bed, "but I really don't understand your species' mating practices. You didn't even touch me the whole time."

"Oh, you don't remember any of it, then?" Treekul asked in mock concern. "I guess the psychic vibrations must have been beyond your comprehension. That happens with aliens who lack the secret eighth sense my people have. You probably just hallucinated me pacing around and talking to myself."

Zhoybok was astonished. "As a matter of fact, I did!"

"To tell you the truth, a lot of my kind frown on this sort of thing. They think it's perverse to have this level of intimacy with life forms who can't experience it properly. But for me, I think that's part of the thrill. It's so... savage, don't you think?"

Zhoybok wasn't sure what to say, but he wasn't interested in disputing the words of a priestess, so he accepted her compliments and excused himself. Once he was gone, Treekul shook her head and lay down on the bed. Lying was tiring work, even to someone as gullible as Zhoybok.

"I really need to get more comfortable about talking to myself," she said.

*******

[20 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

There were only four people aboard Luffa's star-yacht, which now criss-crossed the worlds of the Federation in a frantic effort to keep pace with the Jindan Cult's attacks. The Federation defenses were spread thin, and if any invading ship managed to land on a planet, there were few who could stand up to the alchemically-empowered Saiyans inside. Luffa was getting better at fighting them, but their numbers were beginning to take a toll on her body. Dr. Topsas, her personal physician, had found ways to heal her in time for the next battle, while the clairvoyant Dotz had proven handy at predicting attacks before they happened, so Luffa could plan her travel. The fourth passenger on board, Zatte, was Luffa's wife, and she was beginning to wonder if she served any useful purpose here at all.

"That's ridiculous," Wampaaan'riix said when she shared her frustrations with him over the subspace radio. The Yetitan looked as enormous as ever, despite the desktop monitor scaling down his nine-foot-tall frame. "You practically operate the entire ship by yourself."

"So did Keda," Zatte said. She was rubbing the muscles in her arms and legs while she spoke to him. "And she did it better than I ever could."

"And you find no honor in succeeding a fallen comrade?" Wampaan'riix asked.

"It's not enough," Zatte said. "Keda didn't recognize Luffa as a xan-nil'Dor. For her, Luffa was a friend, and sort of a business partner, I guess you could say. For me, she's my wife, and an instrument of Providence. I have to do better. Especially now."

It was almost impossible to read his expressions through the coat of long white hair that covered most of his face, but the way Wampaaan'riix narrowed his eyes was unmistakable. "You're not thinking of going with her into the field?" he asked warily.

"I already have," Zatte said. "At first it seemed to be just what I wanted. I'd set up somewhere safe and shoot down cultists to keep them off Luffa's back. Trouble is, she took it as a challenge. Lately, she's been making it her business to take out the enemy before I can get a shot off. And that's romantic and all, but--"

"You two are insane," Wampaaan'riix grumbled.

"Look, I have to be there for her," Zatte said. She had moved on to stretching her hamstrings. "She's fighting a war against her own kind. Even the Saiyans on our side don't fully trust her. She doesn't let it show, but I know how much it eats at her. I can't imagine what it would be like to fight other Dorluns."

"I agree, she needs your support," Wampaaan'riix said. "But if you keep pushing yourself you may not be there when she needs it the most. This Dotz woman. She can predict the enemy attacks, can't she? Why not ask her for help? If she can tell Luffa where to go and when, then she can do the same for you, right?"

"That's the problem," Zatte said. "Dotz can't see Luffa's fate, only the planets and battles that lie ahead. We only know Luffa will get involved when Luffa decides to intervene."

"Strange, but even if that's true, why not see what Dotz can read about your own future?" Wampaaan'riix suggested. "I'm surprised you haven't already. You're a survivalist after all."

"I... I can't," Zatte said. She rose from the foam mat on the deck of her cabin and approached the desk.

"Well why not?" Wampaaan'riix asked. "It can't be a moral objection. You seem to have no problem with any of Dotz' other readings."

"Look, I... I have to go. I'll call you back, okay?"

"Just promise me you'll do it in the daytime," Wampaaan'riix groaned. "I know you've been in space a long time, but my den is on a different day-night cycle than--"

She hastily switched off the monitor, and a second later Luffa entered the cabin.

"I set the slow cooker for three hours," Luffa said as she rubbed her hands together. "How long before we get to Dodjem?"

"Tomorrow morning," Zatte said. They met in the center of the cabin and embraced.

"Dotz thinks there'll be ten Jindan Saiyans there," Luffa said with a smile. "Should be interesting."

"I'm going with you," Zatte insisted.

"Oh, I can handle ten," Luffa assured her.

"Then I'll watch you through my scope," Zatte said. "Or I'll shoot a few down for you, but either way, I'm coming along."

"Heh. Okay. You worry too much, you know that?"

"Someone has to," Zatte said. "Dotz still can't see your future, you know."

"Well, her other predictions are getting better," Luffa said. "On Shoust IV, she managed to get an accurate count on the enemy. She even located them to within a one mile radius. I think her powers are really coming along."

"Yeah, but she can't see your future."

"Does that still bother you?" Luffa asked.

Zatte tightened her grip on Luffa's torso and swung her onto the nearby bed. A moment later, she was had climbed on top of Luffa, planting her hands on her shoulders.

"No, it doesn't," Zatte said. "Not anymore."

"I'm not sure how to respond to that," Luffa said with a grin.

"I thought about it," Zatte said after giving her a long kiss. "I prayed about it too. Is it all right if I light some candles?"

"Uh, sure, knock yourself out," Luffa said.

Zatte rolled off of Luffa and went to a storage cabinet on the other side if her cabin. She removed four candles and laid them on the floor in a trapezoid formation surrounding the bed. After she lit each one, she got back in bed and knelt beside Luffa.

"Is the scent too much for you?" Zatte asked. "I know how sensitive your nose is."

"It's fine," Luffa said. "Smells kind of nice, really."

"It's not exactly sacred," Zatte said. The incense is just to keep insects away during religious observances. It makes me feel closer to Providence, though. So does this."

She placed her hand on Luffa's neck, and rested her thumb where she could take her pulse. The she took a deep breath and muttered something in her native language.

"Uh, what's going on here, exactly?" Luffa asked.

"I realized that I was letting Dotz' abilities cloud my faith in you," Zatte said. "I promised myself that I wouldn't ask her to read my future. I was worried that she might find out that I end up living without you somehow."

"I won't leave you, Zattie," Luffa said. "We've had our ups and downs, but you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I have to trust that," Zatte said. "That's why I can't let Dotz's predictions bother me. She's getting better at them, but not when it comes to you. That scared me for a while, so I started meditating on it."

"Go on," Luffa said carefully.

"I came to realize that it makes sense that Dotz can't see your fate, because you're part of the Divine Plan. If she knew what you were going to do and when, then it would be like she was seeing into the mind of Providence."

"Or maybe I'm just so powerful that my ki interferes with her readings," Luffa suggested.

"Sure, that could be all it is," Zatte said. "But I like the version that supports my fanatic devotion to you."

She leaned over to kiss Luffa, still taking her pulse as they embraced. Luffa pulled away gently, and shook her head.

"You know how uncomfortable I get with this stuff," she said.

"I know," Zatte said. "But you keep getting hurt out there, and Dotz doesn't know what will happen next, so this is how I cope."

"I mean, you tell me I'm like God's righteous bludgeon or something, but the other night you... well, it was great, but maybe it was sacrilegious?"

Zatte straddled Luffa again, and held down her shoulders. "It's okay," she said. "Sex is a consecration ritual in my culture."

"Oh yeah?" Luffa asked.

"Dorluns value survival. People don't usually have sex while they're being chased by predators. They do it when they're safe and secure. And it can bring about new life."

"Huh. Maybe that's why my own people are so uptight about it," Luffa said. "In public, I mean. I've always had... ah!... mixed feelings about being safe."

"It's all in how you look at it. We're flying through a vacuum, faster than the speed of light, through a war zone, on a pleasure craft with no crew. And we're not exactly dressed for action right now. But if you're still bored, I'll... mmph!... I'll see if I can keep you amused for a while."

*******

[21 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

The battle on Dodjem went as smoothly as could be expected. Dotz' prophecies were mostly accurate, and Luffa was able to surprise the enemy before they noticed her ship. They fought back ferociously, and Luffa's right shoulder was scorched by a ki attack, but Dr. Topsas was confident that he could heal this in a matter of days. Dodjem was liberated in less than two hours, and Luffa proceeded on her way to the next battle Dotz had predicted, in the Ryllax System.

"Careful," Luffa said, guiding Zatte's hand away from her banadaged shoulder. She had set up the slow cooker once again, and the two of them had convened in Zatte's cabin.

"Does it hurt?" Zatte asked as she gingerly lifted Luffa's blood-stained shirt over her head and other arm.

"Sure it hurts, but that's not the point," Luffa said. "Doc'll really be sore if you mess up his bandanges."

"It's a wonder the whole ship isn't full of this stuff," Zatte said. She tossed the shirt at the laundry receptacle, but it hit the rim and fell out instead. "I mean, where does he put it all after he cuts it off of you?"

"He eats it," Luffa said.

"You're kidding."

"No, seriously. I've seen him do it. He makes all of these bandages from his own webbing. It takes a lot of protein to make that work, so he doesn't like to waste it."

"I had no idea," Zatte said. "You think you know a guy... whuh--!"

Luffa pulled her close with her good arm. "Forget about him for now. I wanted to talk about that shot you took back on Dodjem."

Zatte's expression shifted from genuine surprise to feigned innocence. "Oh, did that bother you, darling?"

"I thought one of those Jindan bastards found you," Luffa said. "I had one of them wide open, ready to kill, and I had to pass it up so I could chase the other one down before he found you."

"He had no idea where I was hiding," Zatte boasted.

"I know," Luffa said. "Even I couldn't find you. How am I supposed to watch your back if I don't even know where you are? You're taking a big risk out there, you know that, right?"

"That's the way," Zatte said. "Talk dirty to me."

"Oh, I'll do more than talk before I'm through with you," Luffa said with a grin. "I'll-- dammit..."

She rolled away from Zatte and drew her arms to her chest.

"Let me see," Zatte said.

"It's nothing," Luffa insisted. "Just give me a minute."

"Let me see," Zatte insisted back. Luffa made an irritated grunt, but didn't resist when Zatte took her hands in her own.

"I was starting to think your hands had stopped trembling," Zatte said as she massaged Luffa's palms. It didn't actually do anything to improve the situation, but it made them both feel better when she did this. "I haven't seen you stuff them in your pockets much lately."

"It's... it's not as bad as it used to be," Luffa said. "I haven't been able to spend a lot of time with Katem, but I think it still helps. Maybe it's all your prayers."

"He's kind of a hot mess," Zatte said.

"Just like his mom, huh?" Luffa chuckled.

"You're not a bad mother, Luffa. What happened wasn't your fault."

"I know," Luffa said. "It doesn't help much, but I know."

"You're still worked up about Fytpall, aren't you?" Zatte asked.

"I've seen worse in my time," Luffa said.

"Maybe, but you were pretty shaken up when you came back from that one," Zatte said. "You don't usually stick around and see what the civilians are going through."

"I'm just... I'm not strong enough, Zattie. I know that sounds stupid coming from me, but I know I could do better than this. If I was just a little better, I could..."

"You're good enough, okay? And maybe you can get stronger, but you can't just get there instantly. It's like you always tell me when we spar."

Luffa didn't say anything, but her heavy sigh was response enough. Zatte continued to rub her thumbs into the scars on Luffa's hands.

"You don't have to be tough for me," Zatte said. "It's okay. It's okay."

Soon enough, the tremors in Luffa's hands subsided, and they went back to what they were doing, although the mood had shifted from flirtation to comfort. Within thirty minutes, their clothes lay on the deck, and they were entangled in the sheets. Zatte occasionally said something in her own language, and kept her finger on Luffa's carotid artery as she muttered to herself. Eventually, she sat up and cradled Luffa's upper body in her lap.

*******

[24 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

"I was so busy favoring my shoulder that I left my knee wide open!" Luffa grumbled. The campaign on Ryllax had ended hours ago, but Luffa's clothes and hair still carried the scent of Ryllaxian pollens from the battlefield.

"Are you going to make it to Eirzee IV?" Zatte asked as she carried Luffa's pants to the laundry receptacle. She took in the strange aroma one last time before shoving the clothes into the hatch.

"Oh, sure," Luffa said. "Doc repaired the worst of it, and I'll have to play it more carefully, but now he's gonna kick me out of the kitchen!"

"You don't know that," Zatte said.

"I can practically hear him, Zattie," Luffa said. "'Saving planets is one thing, but I'll not have you undoing all my work making a casserole, little mammal.'"

"What, now you can see the future, too?" Zatte asked. She was setting up candles around the bed again.

"Heh, maybe. I guess Old Darbock's genes are finally kicking in," Luffa said. "But it looks like I only know how to predict cranky doctors, so Dotz's job is probably safe."

"Well, I hate to take sides, but we can get by on leftovers for a while," Zatte said. "You cook too much food anyway."

Luffa lay back in the bed and groaned. "Still? I keep cutting the portions down for you guys, and it's still too much? That's insane..."

"I'm going to do my litany now," Zatte said. "Any requests?"

"I, uh, I don't think so," Luffa said. "Well, bless Dotz again. And Doc, and the others. And yourself."

Zatte began speaking slowly and methodically, reciting lines from the Dorlun Holybook in her alien tongue. Luffa only knew bits and pieces of her language, but Zatte had been happy to translate for her whenever she asked.

Luffa felt strange whenever her wife did these kinds of observances. She had never been comfortable with being a "chosen one" in Zatte's theology-- or anyone else's, for that matter. And yet, watching this woman pray over her so fervently was somehow inspiring. Zatte had suffered so much in her life, and yet she refused to abandon her principles. It reminded her of Saiyan pride, though Luffa supposed that most beings would just call it stubbornness. Zatte was too zealous to give up hope.

"Thank you for letting me do this," Zatte said when she finished.

"No problem," Luffa said. "Your language is pretty."

She leaned over and fetched a bottle of oil from the edge of the bed. Carefully, she dispensed a small portion onto her fingers, then dabbed it on Luffa's throat and wrists, tracing along the path of major blood vessels.

"All done," Zatte said.

"You've been really ramping up the religious stuff lately," Luffa said. "The litanies, the candles, the oil. I don't really get it myself, but is it helping you?"

"I think so," Zatte said. "The Dorluns prefer not to waste resources on empty ceremony. Some types of xan-nil'Dor call for physical labor. Farming a plot of land, or defending an important place. You, though, well, you're damn near invincible, so you're pretty low-maintenance. I just need something to do. A routine to renew my devotion to your cause."

"Like a practice drill," Luffa said.

Zatte rose from the bed and started putting out the candles. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I may not be able to stop your hands from shaking, but at least I can show that I care. I think that's worth doing."

"Maybe," Luffa said. "It's not a big deal. They don't interfere with my fighting."

Zatte lay down beside her and took her hands in her own. "It just reminds me of what you've been through. I can't take away your pain, but I can try to empathize. You taught me how important that is."

"I taught you?"

"Sure. You're the most compassionate person I know."

*******

[27 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

Dr. Topsas did not order Luffa out of the kitchen, though after the battle on Gairess, he began to wish he had. He implored Luffa to wait before heading off into another battle, but the point was moot. Dotz had no new predictions, and so Luffa found herself with no choice but to wait. Once more, she spent the evening in her wife's cabin.

"I... I gotta admit," Zatte said as she tried to catch her breath. "Even with the broken ribs... you really--"

"Is this messed up?" Luffa suddenly asked.

"Is what messed up?"

Luffa pointed at herself and then at Zatte. "Us," she said. "I mean, you've got the candles set up, you say a prayer before we go to bed, and then we talk about almost getting killed to get in the mood."

"Don't forget the sparring," Zatte said.

"You know, I never sparred with Kandai," Luffa said. "He never wanted to, and I never questioned it. He was so much stronger than me that he didn't see the point. But the gap between you and me is even bigger, and I love sparring with you."

"We're aliens," Zatte said. "I'm cut off from my own people and you're unique among yours. There's nothing conventional about us."

"I know, but... Zattie, are you ever afraid?"

"Of course," Zatte said. "Fear keeps you alive."

"I mean, are your afraid right now?" Luffa asked.

"Here? With you?" Zatte asked. "No. Are you afraid?"

"Yeah," Luffa said.

"About the war? Your son?"

"I'm afraid I'm not good enough," Luffa said. I feel like I'm gonna screw this up. Like I have before."

She reached for Zatte's face, and gently removed the patch from her right eye, revealing the scar tissue and prosthetic implant underneath.

"If it's me you're worried about..." Zatte began, but Luffa put her finger on her lips to silence her.

"I know, you're prepared to burn for me, or suffer whatever it takes, right? I wish I had a tenth of your courage. I wish... well, I wish there was some other Super Saiyan handling this."

"Aren't you always saying you're stronger than they were?" Zatte asked.

"Maybe I am, but I bet the old heroes never had to deal with the kind of baggage I've got."

"This is about your hands, isn't it?" Zatte asked. She took Luffa's palms into her own, and held them steady in case they began to tremble.

"It was four years ago," Luffa said. "I should have gotten over it by now. I should have gotten over Keda's death, I should have gotten over everything... The old heroes never had to deal with this sort of thing. They just fought and won. Nice and simple. I'm fighting, and I'm winning, but I keep dwelling on it all. Worrying about battles from the past, wondering how I'm going to do in the next ones."

"Maybe they had it just as bad," Zatte said. "Maybe the storytellers just left those parts out."

"Sometimes I wish things were different, you know? You told me before this is exactly how you wanted things to be, but I bet you'd like it better with Keda still alive. Or hell, the rest of the colony."

"But they're not alive, Luffa," Zatte said. "I have to accept that they're gone."

"I could have saved them all," Luffa said. "I had the power. I must have had it inside me all along. If only I had known how to use it then. When it would have mattered. If only I wasn't such a coward..."

"Don't say things like that!" Zatte said. "I know you use that kind of talk to get yourself fired up, but I don't want you believing that sort of thing. You're the bravest person I know."

"It's not enough," Luffa said. "That's what I worry about, anyway."

"And that's what the candles and the prayers are for," Zatte said. She lifted Luffa's hands slightly. "I don't just pray for the tremors to stop," she said. "I pray that the tremors won't interfere with your mission. I pray that you can accept what you are the way I do. You know why?"

Luffa didn't answer, so she lay down beside her and took her hand.

"Maybe you're right, and maybe another Super Saiyan could deal with this better than you could. You've told me that you think there might be another one like you, a thousand years from now. Well, I don't think the universe can wait that long. I think we need a Super Saiyan right now, and you're it."

"You're right," Luffa said. "It's just hard to see it that way from the inside. All these fights I've been having with these cultists, they start to run together after a while. It'd be different if they were stronger, or if I could come at them healthy. But they keep chipping away at me, and there doesn't seem to be any end to it..."

"We've got some time, at least," Zatte said. "Dotz hasn't seen anything new coming up, right? Remember how you used to fly over the coastlines on Luffasworld?"

"Yeah," Luffa said, "but that's way out in the galactic core. By the time we got there--"

Zatte put a finger on her lips. "I know that, but Woshad's not far away. We could take a few days to look around there."

Luffa seemed pleased by the suggestion, but before she could speak, a chirping noise sounded from the cabin's intercom, and both women looked up to see the light blinking on the panel on the wall.

"Um, this is Dotz," came the voice through the speaker. "Well, um, the service robot told me I could talk to the whole ship this way, and I thought it might be faster than trying to find everyone. Despye's been attacked. Or, well, it will be in about twenty hours. It looks pretty bad to me. I saw about twenty Saiyans, and one of those rock creatures they use."

"Oh no..." Zatte said.

"I, uh, set a course for Despye," Dotz continued, "and we should be heading there now, but I thought one of you should check to make sure I did it right. I'm still getting used to the helm controls..."

"We won't get there in twenty hours," Luffa grumbled. "Those bastards will have a head start, again. Even if the fleet can get there before us--"

"I know, I'll take care of it," Zatte said. She rolled out of the bed and went to find her clothes. "You need to get some sleep."

"Fine, but make sure you get some yourself," Luffa said. "I mean... you're going with me, right?"

"So I can watch you wipe them out before I can even line up a shot?" Zatte asked. "Sure, if you want me to."

"Actually," Luffa said as she patted her swollen knee, "I was thinking I might lure a few in for you to shoot. Make things a little easier. For Doc, you know?"

Zatte grinned as she pulled her shirt over her head, and most of that smile was still there when she turned to look back at Luffa. "For Dr. Topsas," she said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Makes sense. He's been working pretty hard lately."

"Just don't stay up all night cleaning your guns, okay?" Luffa muttered.

Zatte pulled on a pair of shorts and headed for the door. "Anything you say," she chuckled as she headed out into the corridor.

NEXT: Rats in mazes.

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #super saiyan #luffa #zatte #treekul #wampaaan'riix #zhoybok #nagaoka

6 notes · View notes

arthur-morgan-slap-my-ass · 5 years

Text

The Progress of Arthur Morgan | Chapter 1

A/N: You guys have no idea about how satisfied I am about posting this. First things first, I’m a psychology student (think I’ve talked about this before) and I’m like, deeply in love with my future profession. Second, Arthur Morgan needs some therapy. Urgently. This idea came out of nowhere, based off of a case we read during one of our ethics class about a therapist falling in love with his client and my hand slipped with a 10+k long fic about the subject aosdnakjsdn Also, you fucking believe it or not, this fic has a playlist! You can see it below!

Playlist

Summary: Being a therapist was never easy, but you always did your best to help your clients. When a patient came to you on the verge of a divorce, his behavior turned your full attention to him, blurring the lines of ethics and making you question your own decisions.

Word Count: 4k

Chapters: 2 | 3

You sipped at your coffee, flicking through the pages of your log journal with mild interest, eyes fleeting through the file, packed with whatever you had managed to gather to put together for the afternoon patient. A man, mid 30s. Going through divorce, according to the reference contact — his father. Showed signs of apathy, self-stem issues and discouragement towards the present and future. You scribbled “depression?” on the page, cocking your head to the side.

Another sip, this time frowning.

It was simple enough, you meditated; but no case was just what was written in the log. You tapped the mechanical pencil on the page, above the name of the man.

Arthur Morgan.

Divorce was a mighty thin ice subject for you to approach with men, having gone through one yourself — but you found release in helping others find their peace with it and overcome failed relationships, even if you were yet to find it yourself.

You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, resting your chin on top of your hand. You hoped Mr. Morgan was easy enough to deal with.

“Mr. Morgan,” you called from the entrance of your listening room, finding the patient when he perked up at his name. You held the door open in an inviting way, turning your head to the side with a placid smile, “please, do come in.”

The waiting room wasn’t packed — the clinic in which you attended to always had a nice disposition of patients through the week, as not to make the ones in the waiting too anxious by being around too much people. The man stood up, rather slowly, giving you a tight nod of his head and a pressed smile as he passed through you and into the soundproof room.

He stood there, almost awkwardly, even after you closed the door. The man was tall, you took in, with dark blond hair and almost touching his shoulders and a beard that had seen better days. His posture suggested one of a cornered animal, waiting for something to pounce him as he sketched a runaway plan — but that wasn’t unusual to you. Most of the people who’d come to you were nervous, unsure even, but you had always managed to help them find their path.

“Please,” you said in a gentle voice, but Mr. Morgan still snapped his attention to you. You motioned towards the room, walls of soft tone of yellow, two beige armchairs and a loveseat of the same color, with dark brown pillows and a rug. You had always found the listening room to be a warm, welcoming environment — because that’s what the profession revolved around, making the patients feel welcomed and at ease —, but he still watched the place like it was a trap of a sorts. “Take a seat wherever you’d like.”

The man rubbed the palms of his hands against his jeans covered thighs, shuffling uncomfortably in place. “Anywhere?”

“As long as you’re comfortable,” you nodded, clasping your hands in front of your body. His teal colored eyes fleeted briefly through the room and he ultimately moved towards the loveseat, facing the armchair opposite to it. “Is this your first time? In a therapy session?”

He nodded stiffly, not really meeting your eyes as you sat on the armchair and smiled comprehensively.

“I see,” you took off your glasses, folding it and setting them on the cushioned arm, “but there’s no need to be nervous, Mr. Morgan. We’re here simply to talk, maybe figure some things out, this is a safe space for you to share whatever comes to your mind, you see? I’m here to listen and help however I can.”

The man nodded again, this time picking at the velvety surface of the loveseat. He seemed flustered, almost. “Never thought I’d end up needing a shrink, ‘s all.”

You smiled again, not unused to the term neither. “Everyone should do therapy, if you were to ask me,” he looked up at you, somewhat puzzled and you shrugged lightly. “I assure you it’s nice to know someone’s listening on the other end; someone that’s not going to judge you. It’s not about getting fixed, it’s about making sure everything’s in order here,” you pointed to your head, “to make sense of everything else.”

He seemed to consider your words, ultimately agreeing but not very enthusiastically. Passivity, you noted mentally.

“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Morgan…,” you started again, voice gentle and calm.

“Just—,” he interrupted, looking flustered, “Arthur ‘s fine.”

You cocked your head to the side, nodding understandingly with an amused quip. “Arthur, then. Like the King.”

Arthur scoffed, looking to the side. “Very different fellas, that’s for sure.”

“And why do you say that?,” you asked, clasping your hands together in a polite manner. Your tone wasn’t accusatory and, if anything, you had found professional curiosity in the man. Low self-stem, perhaps? Too early to say.

The man stayed silent for a moment, seeming to think on what to say. “Never been one for titles and such for myself, ‘s what I mean. Prefer to keep it simple.”

“I see,” you smiled again, trying your best to look welcoming. He surely was very different from what you were expecting. “Well, then. My name’s Y/N, but you can call me how you’d like, if you don’t appreciate using my first name in our sessions.”

Arthur nodded once more, twisting his lips as if somewhat displeased. Embarrassment, perhaps he was here against his will.

“Feels kinda silly,” he muttered to no one in particular, “payin’ up someone just to hear me talk.”

You laughed softly, hand coming up to rest on your chin, “it’s more common than you think, although psychology is still viewed as a somewhat taboo thing, even by modern standards. We like to think of ourselves as doctors, of a kind,” you joked lightly, trying to humor him and see if that would help him loosen up, “doctors of the mind, if you please.”

He smirked then, only partially more at ease, “whatever you say, doc. Just make sure to fix me up.”

You shook your head, now humored yourself. “See, Arthur,” you started, squeezing your eyes lightly to seem warm, “therapy is a two way hand. You’re not a mentally broken person to start with,” at that he seemed to recoil, but you were quick to add, “just in need of someone to listen to you. We’re here to help you learn more about yourself, so you can rely on your own inner strength to overcome personal matters, you understand me?”

He frowned then, but acquiesced with a quick nod.

“Let’s start by saying that whatever is said here won’t leave this room,” you recited the well-eased script, “I’m your confident and won’t share personal and intimate information on you with anyone if requested, unless given permission by you. Is that of accord with you?”

“Sure is,” Arthur mumbled, too focused on his hand resting on top of the armrest of the loveseat. He seemed to have drawn in once more.

“Your father told me some primary information on you,” you said calmly, trying to sound softer, “but I’d like to hear things from you, if you don’t mind.”

With a frown, the man tapped his thumb on the velvety surface of the armrest. He seemed displeased, almost. Self-consciousness?

“Let’s start small, then,” you prompted in face of his hesitation, “tell me about your work.”

“I work as a teacher,” he answered quietly, fleeting his eyes towards you, “art teacher, for middle schoolers.”

You nodded, honestly interested. “That’s really nice. You get along well with children, then?”

Arthur nodded, this time more enthusiastically, and a smile appeared on his full lips for the first time. “Yeah, the children sure are nice,” he commented idly, almost pleased, “they’re more open, feels like I’m the one learning in the classroom sometimes.”

“I’m sure it’s very fulfilling,” you urged him on, continuing in the same tone of voice, “so, tell me. Do you have any children of your own?”

He shifted uncomfortably, smile soon disappearing. “I… no, not really,” he scratched his chin nervously, “my… my wife never wanted none for herself,” Arthur confided lowly, still somewhat hesitant. “But I’ve always wanted to have children.”

You nodded again, feeling the sensitive subject building up. Maybe you should be more direct. “And how does that make you feel? Her not wanting to have children? Does that upset you?”

Arthur scoffed lightly, fixing his teal colored eyes on his fingers smoothing the sofa’s surface. “Can’t really blame her, doc,” he commented, in an off-handed tone, “she’s not wrong on it.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watched him. “Why do you say that?”

He seemed to be humored by your question, shrugging as if the answer was obvious. “I mean, wouldn’t want to have a babe of mine neither.”

You pressed your lips together, nodding slowly. You didn’t expect that sort of answer. “But you want a child,” you pointed out, “doesn’t that make it some kind of a paradox?”

Arthur watched you for a moment, considering your words before shaking his head. “You sure like making complicated questions, doc.”

At this, you smiled, bowing your head slightly. “Just trying to understand your situation, Arthur.”

“Sure,” he sighed, eyeing the cinnamon brown colored plush pillow. “It doesn’t make a difference now, though. She don’t want me no more.”

Passivity, once more.

You weighed the words, leaning back on the cushioned armchair, “is this the reason why you’re splitting apart?”

Arthur frowned, but he didn’t seem displeased — instead, he was almost… sad. “One of the few,” he said quietly, in a voice you could only tag as secretive, “but I never insisted on it much, didn’t want to force her into the idea. We thought about it, couple times some years ago, but the moment was never right and so…,” he trailed off, looking at you somewhat awkwardly, “it never came, I guess.”

That surprised you.

You had expected him to be much more imposing, from what little you had gathered from the reference contact; but it was as if he didn’t really want to have a say in the matters of his life. “I understand,” you commented, following the tracks, “is there something else, then? As the children subject isn’t the only reason, as you stated before.”

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. “Mary doesn’t really fancy my job. Takes too much time, I’ll admit, but—“

The silence stretched, almost expectantly, but you didn’t dare breach it yet. Arthur shook his head then, and you took that as a sign to speak again.

“Are you happy with your job as a teacher, Arthur?,” you asked sincerely, regarding him with curiosity.

Arthur frowned at your question. “What? ‘course I am, why wouldn’t I be?,” he twisted his lips, “doesn’t mean she has to enjoy it too.”

“I see,” you acquiesced, nodding briefly. “How long have you been together, then?”

“Ah,” the man shrugged, “ever since Junior year in college, I guess. She majored in Business, to take over her family’s company. Been about 12 years or so, would turn 13 this July.”

He kept track, you noticed. That means he cared.

“That’s a long time,” you clasped your hands together, “why only now?”

Arthur watched you for a moment, seeming rather frustrated, before answering. “We grew tired of each other, I guess.”

You cocked your head to the side. This wasn’t unusual. “Would you care to elaborate, Arthur? Of course, if that’s okay by you.”

He nodded, moving to pick the pillow and set it on his lap. Defensive manner, you blinked slowly. That made him uncomfortable. “Love ran out, ‘suppose. We argue a lot now, ‘bout bills, the school, sometimes she says that I’ve changed, but I—“ Arthur trailed off, growing silent for a few seconds before continuing. “We’re just really mean to each other, ‘s all.”

You regarded him in a clinical way, resting your head on your hand. He seemed almost guilty. “Is it of your wish, then? To go separate ways?”

Arthur scoffed, still not looking at you. “Not really… but if that’s what she wants, I’m okay with it.”

Passivity, again.

“But I’m asking you,” you pressed on the matter, shifting on the armchair, and trying to make your voice seem warm and understanding, “how does that make you feel? You not wanting to go and Mary making the decision for the both of you?”

“What I mean is that I’m not gonna insist on it, doc,” he said slowly, almost in a mechanical way, “if she don’t wanna stay, I’m not gonna force her. She never had much freedom, with her family around, but now that her pa’s gone, she can do things. She has friends, colleagues and…,” Arthur shrugged, resting his arms on top of the pillow. “Mary has her own life now.”

“And how does that make you feel, Arthur?,” you pressed on, watching him intensely. He was so incredibly acceptant of the situation it surprised you. “We’re here to talk about you.”

He watched his hands for a moment, processing your question. “Like… I don’t know,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes to keep the tears welling up in there from spilling, “maybe that I’m not enough for her, I guess.”

“It’s okay to feel like that,” you offered lightly. It wasn’t uncommon for patients to cry neither, especially in such situations. “Every experience is valid in our lives, even the bad ones.”

Arthur grimaced at your words, giving you a somewhat impatient look. “With all due respect, doc,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion, “don’t give me this ‘it’s okay’ therapist talk ‘cause that ain’t gonna work on me. You just sound like my father.”

With a worried recoil of your shoulders, you plucked your glasses and put them back on, avoiding picking up the patient log and writing on it. “Then let’s talk about your family. You said I sounded like your father, is that a bad thing for you?”

“It’s…,” Arthur paused, hesitating for a moment, “not necessarily, but…,” his voice died out.

“Do you have a good relationship with him?,” you asked, as it was of your interest since the man had been the one reaching out to you, actively working to get Arthur to become your patient and had been insistent on paying for the sessions beforehand. He was old, perhaps in his late 50s, with short grayish-white hair and small, warm eyes. Hosea Matthews, as he had signed himself up as the emergency contact and reference one to discuss progress occasionally.

“Sure do,” he agreed, looking solemn. “Hosea’s a good man… Dutch too.”

You hummed, expecting him to go on. “I’m told you began to live with them around the age of 11, is that correct?”

Arthur looked flustered, wary of the route you had taken on the conversation. “Yes,” he answered in a clipped manner. “They been great to me ever since.”

“Are you particularly closer to any of your parents?,” you asked, trying to diffuse the tension.

“I don’t see how this is helping,” Arthur answered, his voice quiet.

“It’s going to help me understand the situation in which you find himself,” you explained patiently, “seeing in which context you are, how your relationship with your family works, feelings and such.” He didn’t answer, instead focusing his attention on picking at the strands of the pillow where the seams were tearing apart. “Just trust me on it, Arthur. You don’t have to be afraid of telling me anything. This is a safe space for you, where you can say things without having to worry about the judgment of others.”

Arthur allowed the silence to grow and you glanced at your wristwatch to keep track of the time. He was tough to crack. “Hosea is easier to talk to, ‘suppose. He’s a better listener,” he said with finality.

So, family was a sensitive subject. You’d work up to it.

“What about your other father?,” you inquired in a soft voice, tilting your head to the side. Arthur looked away, visibly uncomfortable. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, Arthur.”

“We’re good,” he muttered ultimately. “Feels like he’s more fond of my brother, though.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together. Sense of inferiority, compares himself to others. The diagnosis was coming together, then. “Have you ever told him that?”

The man scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s a very stupid question, if I can say so.”

At that, you smiled in amusement. “Yes, you can,” you half laughed, “but I’m assuming that’s a no.”

“Good assumption,” he chuckled, rubbing a hand against his knee. You watched him for a moment, already putting together what you were to write down in the log when he spoke up. “So, I can tell you anythin’? Like, for real?”

You cocked your head to the side, smiling sweetly. “Yes, that’s the concept,” you agreed, blinking at him, “anything that comes to mind, from plans, to feelings, what you think about things, whatever it is. I’m here to listen to you and if you can’t understand something, I’ll help you through it.”

Arthur nodded a few times, gaze fixated on the coffee-brown fluffy rug. “And you can’t tell anyone about it?”

Shuffling in your seat, you considered your options. There were situations, yes, that you were allowed — and should — break the confidentiality of the patient, but you feared that telling him would push him to hold back on information with you. Sighing, you decided to be honest.

“See, Arthur,” you started, “I’m not allowed to share any kind of information on you, not with your parents, with your wife, friends, family… no one, really,” he watched you with intelligent eyes and you knew he was listening. “There are exceptions, obviously. When you find yourself in immediate danger to yourself or others is a good example, and legally I’m obligated to inform your emergency contact of your condition and wait for them to come in contact with me before allowing you to walk away from the clinic.”

He watched you for a moment, weighing the words rather carefully “What would immediate danger be, in that case?,” Arthur asked seriously.

You hesitated before answering, rather wary. “Threats to your life or third parties, usually.”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head, and he seemed to be humored. “Ain’t gonna go off like that, that’s for sure.” He shifted in his seat, fixing the plushy throw pillow on his lap. “That ever happened to you? With a patient?”

Lolling your head from one side to another, you answered, “it always happens when you decide to go into this branch of profession, it’s almost a certainty, I’d say.”

“That a yes?,” he asked.

“Yes,” you smiled rather sadly, “but they did not die. For obvious reasons, we could not continue treatment…”

“Why’s that?,” the man seemed surprised, almost dumbfounded.

“That option is owed to the patient, you see,” you explained patiently, “they did not want to be treated by a psychologist who broke their trust, even if that meant they’d live instead of passing away. Some people have plans and don’t appreciate it when we, as therapists, intervene.”

Arthur considered it, pressing his lips together and nodding quietly. You cocked your head to the side, regarding him closely.

“Do you keep a journal, Arthur?,” you inquired suddenly and that seemed to startle him. The man blushed slightly. “I find them very useful to say what we have difficulty of saying to others. Maybe you’d find that interesting?”

“I don’t…,” he sighed, shaking his head, rather embarrassed. “Always wanted to, but never got to it, I think.”

“Why’s that?,” you smiled sweetly, in an encouraging way. “Having a journal is a very useful and contrary to popular belief, it’s not just a ‘girl’ thing,” he smiled at that, “it helps with verbalization of feelings, reflective thought, organization… and, since you’re an art teacher, I do believe you might have art skills, no?”

Arthur looked flustered, a pinkish blush creeping to his cheeks as he averted his gaze from you. “Ain’t so sure, doc... just don’t think it’s gonna be helpful.”

“Try it, at least,” you encouraged, crossing your hands and resting them on your lap. He looked at you, rather unsure, “just a simple one. You can draw more than write, if that’s how you feel like. Just use it to express yourself,” you shrugged, trying to smile again, “I do think it’ll be good for you, Arthur, and I believe you have talent in drawing.”

The man tried to hold back an awkward little smile, in a sheepish manner. “Ain’t ever seen any of ‘em, don’t say nonsense—“

“I just have a hunch,” you spoke rather offhandedly and he quieted down. He seemed to be really insecure, more than you had expected. “Will you think about it, then?”

Arthur hunched his shoulders at it, playing with his fingers. “Sure, can try to,” he hesitated before continuing, “you gonna read it?”

“If you want me to,” you answered truthfully, “you can show me whatever you’d like from it and we can discuss the matters if you want to.”

He nodded, seeming more confident. You glanced at your watch again, to keep track of the time, but he didn’t seem to notice your action. “Ain’t gonna be much in there, doc,” he continued, shifting in his seat, “but I’ll give it a thought.”

You tapped the pen thoughtfully against the patient logbook.

The day had been long, with too many cases to keep track of individually and the logbook was truly a blessing on days like these; not to mention how useful it was to remind yourself of the last session's main points before walking into the listening room again.

Almost as if unthinkingly, your eyes drew back down on the logbook page.

Arthur’s name was written there, in your handwriting, with his information.

-> Going through divorce, doesn’t want to fight to keep his wife, unfulfilled marriage -> no children;

-> Art teacher, went to art school, adopted at 11, possibly from problematic family -> ask on it later;

-> Sensitive on family topic, feels set aside by parent -> father does not offer recognition according to patient;

-> Low self-steem, difficulty when it comes to verbalizing feelings + disregard;

-> Journal recommendation, developing diagnosis -> recommended 6 months of therapy, once a week.

You sighed. Divorce cases were always the hardest for you, but you had never taken in a man for that matter. It was a change of pace, but not of heart — you always had taken in the ones who did not wish to follow through with the separation; some with children, others old, young, some coming from infidelity, many from “love running out”, but never once someone had given up so easily. Neither had seemed to be so indifferent about their own wishes, abilities and overall identity.

It was sad, you came to the conclusion. You were sad for him.

Which, you reminded yourself, wasn’t unusual; therapists were allowed to feel empathy towards their patients, but you were curious. Every session was like a missing piece to a puzzle, to put together the history of someone’s life and psyche — and right now, you felt like you had been given a whirlwind of missing pieces that when put together didn’t make much sense. There was more to it.

You took a sip of your tea, closing your eyes at the sweet taste of the drink. It was hard, especially when you could see the quiet suffering through words and actions, and he didn’t to be comfortable, nor used, with the availability of someone there to listen to him. In the quiet darkness of your office, you reclined back at the desk chair, eyes trained on the logbook.

It was then that you decided that you were to do everything in your power to help Mr. Morgan.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagines #red dead redemption #red dead redemption imagines #fanfic #soft #send arthur morgan to fucking therapy #patient!arthur x therapist!reader

111 notes · View notes

zenithlux · 4 years

Text

Cadence Update - CH 10

In which Vergil learns a little bit more. But it’s all business. Of course.

Catch up on the story here!

Welcome back to Cadence ya’ll! I know I’m posting this a day early, but I have a project I have to finish up tonight and tomorrow, so I figured, why not let everyone enjoy this on a (possibly gloomy) Monday?

See you on Friday!

Another twist of the knife, turn of the screws It’s all in your mind and it’s fighting you Arm yourself a storm is coming. Well, kid, what are you gonna do now? It’s your reflection looking back to pull you down

Phoenix - Chrissy Costanza

---------------

The first thing Vergil did was drag five half-dead demons to Roxy’s doorstep.

He’d waited an hour, of course. Long enough to make sure she was actually asleep and not starting to freeze again. Not that he would have known what to do in that situation, but he figured it was the thought that counted. At some point, Aki’s head had popped up, his eyes had narrowed, and he chirped rather loudly. Vergil had translated that as “what are you waiting around here for? Go do something”. In Griffon’s voice, of course. The two sounded nothing alike, but he knew he would never quite escape his old familiars.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately given the amount of time he had), that process had taken much longer than Vergil cared to admit. He wasn’t used to leaving enemies alive, much less in a semi-functioning state. But, after a few extra fights, he finally figured out what parts of each demon’s bodies he could cut without them evaporating. He wasn’t certain if it was quite enough. But he also wasn’t too keen on letting Diadona take more blood than she already had. At the very least, Vergil assumed this was a better option than dragging Roxy out hunting in what he assumed would still be a weakened state, no matter how long she slept.

But, for the briefest of moments, Vergil was annoyed when he found her still asleep after the hour and a half he had spent outdoors. This information of hers seemed far too important to delay any longer. But then he remembered that she had waited two weeks for him to even call her- twice- and quickly let that train of thought go.

So, after securing the demons elsewhere to avoid any prying eyes, Vergil took stock of her groceries and was rather impressed at the state of her kitchen. There was plenty of food, both fresh and frozen, with meats split into Ziploc bags and multiple containers of frozen fruits marked as ‘for smoothies’ in faded black marker. Everything else was all well organized, as it only took opening a few cupboards to find every pot, pan, cooking device, and utensil she had. At first, he wondered why a woman living on her own had so many supplies. But then he’d also have to wonder why Dante had so few things considering how many people visited, and that was not a rabbit hole worth traveling down. Instead, Vergil found what he needed for dinner (along with the very convenient recipe book on the table opened to the exact page for “hearty chicken soup”) and left the chicken to defrost. No use rushing things, as he assumed she’d be out for at least another few hours. Worst case, he’d scouted the town out while searching for the demons (it wasn’t much more impressive than Haven, if a little bit on the wealthier side) and knew where to find food if needed.

Then, he wandered around her house. She had, after all, encouraged him to do so before falling asleep. And if he couldn’t find any answers on her current predicament, at least he might be able to deduce a few things about her.

Professionally. Of course.

Why would he be searching otherwise?

Foolishness.

The generous living room led to a hallway with a modest-sized bathroom (Dante would be jealous of that Jacuzzi tub… so Vergil decided he’d never get to see it) and a small closet. At the far end were two doors, one slightly ajar, and the other shut tight. He peered cautiously into the first to find what he assumed was her bedroom. The wood floors matched the living room, but the walls were a few shades brighter with more artwork. On one side was a queen-sized bed with a blue comforter with what looked like painted flowers of all colors. The wall to the right of it had a nice sized, curved window with a comfortable place to sit and a pair of books in the middle.

The other wall, however, was what caught Vergil’s attention; multiple, beautiful shelves filled to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes. Except she had clearly taken great care when organizing them, as similar sizes and colors were all paired together in one of the most aesthetically pleasing bookcases Vergil had ever seen. The only one out of place was a single shelf filled with textbooks, but even those were organized by size, including the ones piled on their side.

“Is the Son of Sparda snooping already?”

Vergil twitched, annoyed that he’d been surprised by the dragon’s voice at all. But when he turned to question how such a large dragon fit in such a tiny hallway, his eyes fell on something much, much smaller. Kuro was a shrunken version of himself, but still three times bigger than Aki. His scales were smoother. His horns were much shorter, and his tail flicked across the floor in what Vergil assumed was amusement. An adolescent form, maybe, but Vergil could still feel centuries of demonic power radiating from the dragon. Regardless, Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “Your mistress gave me permission, in case you weren’t aware.”

Kuro cackled with laughter; a low, rumbling sound that vibrated in the floorboards. “We are companions, though I understand if that is something beyond your mortal comprehension.”

“Is that why you’re freezing her to death?”

The dragon’s tail flicked to the side, but Vergil didn’t see any shift in his expression. “I am keeping her alive,” Kuro said. “This is an unfortunate consequence.”

“She is awake, then?”

Kuro snorted. “Not for another few hours.”

“Then how are you…?”

“My full power is limited by my summoner,” Kuro said. “But I am more than capable of sustaining such an inconsequential form.” His head tilted. “I am surprised you do not know more about familiars.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. A part of him wondered if Kuro knew about V, but he refused to ask. “What are you getting at?”

“I had assumed someone with such demonic power would be more interested in such things.”

Vergil released a slow breath, disguising it with a small grunt of annoyance. “I know of such things,” he said as dismissively as possible. “But have never met someone with such… capabilities.” That wasn’t technically a lie, as he did not consider his own experience as “meeting” anyone. Kuro looked moderately unimpressed, but Vergil couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or didn’t actually believe him. “I intend on speaking to her as soon as she awakens.”

“Indeed,” the dragon said. A moment of awkward silence followed as the two stared at each other; Vergil with a slight scowl, and Kuro with a constant flick of his tail and snake-like tongue. Finally, the dragon huffed and said, “If you wish to know more about her, I suggest you check the room behind you.”

Then, the dragon simply walked away, head held high, not even sparing Vergil a second glance. And for the briefest of moments, Vergil simply stood there, unused to such creatures - or anyone really - acting so blatantly disinterested. Sure, the demon probably thought that Vergil should show him more respect, but he didn’t say it. Vergil didn’t know what he would do if such a thing was demanded of him. ‘Laugh and walk away’ seemed like the most likely possibility, but showing deference to anyone else wasn’t something he’d ever do.

At least… not willingly.

Vergil shifted his attention elsewhere before his thoughts drifted too far in that direction.

The second door was unassuming, but his mind raced with the possibilities. ‘Know more about her’ would imply something like scrapbooks, pictures, or maybe some kind of memorabilia. But, even from what little he knew about her, Vergil didn’t think she was that kind of person. She didn’t like talking about her family except for her father, so Vergil assumed she wasn’t too keen on reliving whatever those memories were. He could just peruse her bookshelf, as an individual's taste in literature usually told him more than enough. But he couldn’t deny his curiosity. There was something there. He just wished he knew her well enough to…

Oh.

Instead of kicking himself at the obvious oversight, Vergil opened the door. And even with his expectations - whatever those were - he stopped in the doorway, stunned. The room was a lot bigger than he expected; a repurposed master bedroom, possibly combined with another, unknown room. One wall was nothing by a set of windows with two blue curtains pulled to the side. Next to that was a large desk with an advanced computer system of some sort, two screens, a tablet, and multiple sketchbooks. Under that was a single, empty canvas, and he assumed that’s where the rest of the ones he brought would eventually go. The wall above that was filled with various sketches and reference pictures of dozens of different things. There were few finished paintings propped up beside it - intricate flowers, a painting of a cottage and garden, and a sweeping, rainforest landscape. There was the start of another painting on an easel in the center of the room; a sketch of a ladybug on a leaf-covered in rain droplets.

Then his eyes drifted to the far wall where Kuro himself had been painted in exquisite detail. His scales actually shimmered, and Vergil couldn’t figure out how she’d accomplished that. There were small bits of glimmer… but nothing crazy.

“Interesting,” he muttered despite himself. Her attention to detail was impressive, and he wondered if there was more to it than a few reference photos. But why Kuro? Surely this big of a piece would draw plenty of attention. Visitors would ask questions… wouldn’t they?

Unless she doesn’t have many.

As silence descended over the apartment - and Vergil was certain Roxy was still fast asleep - he decided to ponder his thoughts over some books.

-------------

It was midnight when Roxy’s eyes finally opened, and 12:30 when she could actually speak to him. It had been oddly unsettling at first, as she’d stared past him, eyes glossed over, seemingly unaware of his existence. Once he’d gotten over that, he’d gone back to his book - the same one Roxy had been reading before their meeting - and waited for her. Kuro was dozing on the couch beside her, and Aki was still on her lap, so Vergil assumed everything was fine.

It was her gasp that caught him completely off guard. Even he was confused when he found himself by her side, hand almost-not-quite resting on her shoulder. Kuro’s head lifted, and Vergil swore he heard a quiet snort before the dragon rested it back on her lap. “Breathe,” Kuro said. “You are safe here.”

Vergil pulled himself away, settling back in his chair as if he hadn’t moved at all. And, considering how her eyes were now closed as she ran her fingers along Kuro’s scales, Vergil assumed she hadn’t noticed him. When Roxy finally met his gaze, she looked oddly sheepish. “I’m good now,” She said. Then, her nose wrinkled as her eyes flickered to the doorway. “Are there… demons here?”

“Yes.”

“...Why?”

Kuro scoffed. “Your makeshift caretaker brought them for you this morning.”

“I’m not…” Vergil trailed off, huffed, and changed the subject. “The soup is done as well, just as Diadona requested.”

Roxy stared at him, lips parted just slightly before she shook her head in what he interpreted as bewilderment. “You didn’t have to do all that,” She said, her cheeks flushing a very light pink. Vergil watched her, both curious and entirely uncertain why she was reacting that way. “But… thank you.”

With a curt nod, Vergil said, “Absorb what essence you can. Then we’ll talk.”

Roxy returned his blunt demand with a nod of her own. “Can you handle that, Kuro?” She said, glancing at the dragon. “Aki can go too. Let me know if we need more.” Aki chirped in excitement and glided to the doorway. But when Vergil expected the little creature to crash straight into it, he vanished. Perplexed, Vergil glanced back at Roxy just in time to see her cheeks flush a much darker red as Kuro said something in his demon tongue. “Shut up,” Roxy muttered. The dragon’s tongue flicked in amusement before he disappeared. “Dragons these days,” She muttered, implying that she knew more than one.

Vergil didn’t let himself fall down that rabbit hole either. “What happened?” Vergil asked. “And why?”

“Dia calls it stasis,” Roxy said. “It’s a side effect of my pact with Kuro.” Her eyes fell, and Vergil didn’t like the way his heart jolted at the immense sadness in them. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that fast though.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. “I”m usually paralyzed for a day at least. Usually more. I called you as soon as that kicked in, thinking I had more time.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now, I suppose.”

Vergil made a note to chastise her for it later. “Kuro?”

“He’s a blessing, really. But the human body can only handle so much, especially when a chunk of his energy is spent healing me.”

“Healing you?”

She nodded. “I’m technically a paraplegic” her hand drifted toward her back as she spoke, but she pulled it away with a surprising amount of force. “I was in an accident about a decade ago that severed the spinal cord in my lumbar. Dad said I was lucky, as I probably should have died. And it punctured low enough that my art career wasn’t ruined. But…” She trailed off, followed by a sigh. “I stayed with Dia for awhile, but it was hard for her to manage her other patients and me... “ She shook her head, took a deep breath, and met his eyes again. “That part isn’t important.”

Vergil had a feeling it was, but he was also painfully aware that he was the last person who should ever call out such a thing. “Then what?”

“Dia introduced me to Kuro, and he took an interest in me,” Roxy said. “I still don’t really know why. An arch-demon willing to pact with a paralyzed nobody? I really didn’t believe it until it happened. And, sometimes, I still can’t believe it. Even now.” She chuckled, but it was strained. “He tells me I’m overthinking it and he’s probably right.” She shrugged. “Long story short, he is able to use his magic to passively heal my spine, but the wound itself will never truly be fixed.”

“So if your pact was broken…”

“I would lose all control of my legs again,” She said. “And I wouldn’t freeze anymore, I suppose.” Her head tilted just slightly. “I don’t mind, though. What’s a few days of discomfort in exchange for a second chance?” She stared at her hand, fingers twitching. “It’s always a little scary though, no matter how many times it happens. Just that thought…” She trailed off.

“What thought?”

She was silent for a painfully long time. But Vergil was patient. He of all people understood how difficult it was to share such personal information. Except he, unlike Roxy, had yet to figure out just who to share that information with. A part of him felt honored, but the rest of him wondered if he deserved such trust from someone who didn’t know everything he’d done.

But…

“Sometimes,” Roxy said. “I wonder what would happen if I froze… and never woke up.”

Alarm swept through him. “You’re…” He didn’t want to say it, even though he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Suicidal?” She said. “No.” She pulled her knees to her chest, but kept her eyes on him. “Afraid, yeah. But not that. Not anymore. Don’t worry about that.” Her small, nervous smile once again caught him off guard. The sadness had not yet left her eyes, but she still tried to encourage him. How? How much pain was she hiding behind such a brave facade?

Helping one person did not feel like much in the grand scheme of things. Really, it wasn’t. But all Vergil could think of were Dante’s words of encouragement. Words that Vergil believed wouldn’t matter with the overwhelming weight of his failures.

If you never take a step, then how do you expect to get anywhere?

“I’ll help you,” Vergil said before he had a chance to think about it. But even after he paused to let his mind catch up to his declaration, he knew it was the right thing to do. After all, how often did someone like him have a chance - and the ability - to fix something so… personal? He could never atone for all of his mistakes. His own son had made that quite clear. But he could do something… he could be there for her.

“Are you certain?” Roxy said softly. “Not that I…” She hesitated. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But...”

“But?”

After another long moment, she sighed. “I was hoping we would get more time as friends before… all of this.” She rubbed her arm absentmindedly. Vergil saw a flicker of pain in her expression before she buried it away; a feeling he knew all too well.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” He said as he set his book aside and made his way to the kitchen. “Rest for now. Regain your strength, and we’ll discuss it more later.”

And for the first time in months, Vergil was certain this was what he was meant to do.

#zenni-writes #cadence #update #vergil #dante #nero #vergilxoc #vergilxroxy #kuro #aki #demon #summoner lore

3 notes · View notes

comicteaparty · 4 years

Text

June 20th-June 26th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from June 20th, 2020 to June 26th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What is something you’re just not very good at right now writing and/or drawing in general?

Deo101 [Millennium]

mysteries. 100% I can not write mysteries!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

ears

Deo101 [Millennium]

the connection between legs and torso. No not hips, I can draw hips fine, but like the movement aspect of it

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Action scenes. Orchestrating fights or big motions on the page... it doesn’t come naturally to me! I have to look at a lot of reference to see how other artists do it. Impact shapes, speed lines, anything to convey movement...

But I am slowly building a vocabulary of... fight shapes? I’m calling them fight shapes, haha

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I feel that

Your feeling I feel deeply

"visual library" is a term that comes to mind

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Composition. I just talked about this earlier today, but.... yup. Composition is my bane.

Mitzi (Trophallaxis)

I'd like to get better at writing in general. I have a lot of trouble verbalizing things I see in my head, and so I gotta rely on images and thumbnails to get any idea across, sometimes. otherwise im a windbag and use 5000 words to say 0-1 things, lmao

carcarchu

I have trouble writing simply. I always want to embellish, add extra details, more characters and make everything more complicated and i worry it ends up making things unnecessarily convoluted

Drawing-wise i hate drawing hands

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

The legit thing I am worse at writing is fucking

Deo101 [Millennium]

omg

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

essays to convince people to hire me

Deo101 [Millennium]

OH OKAY

WAY TO CUT IT OFF

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

YEAH

Mitzi (Trophallaxis)

carcarchu

let her finish deo

Mitzi (Trophallaxis)

comedic timing at its finest

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

omg

I was very confused for a sec(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

but seriously like speaking of filling gaps this is what I'm legit struggling most with right now so any help much appreciated

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

raises hand

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I need to write a personal statement and every time I sit down to edit I want to die

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I volunteer as tribute

writing is basically the only thing I'm really good at

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

It's not the writing I hate

It's the writing about me

carcarchu

is that the thing where you have to write in 3rd person? like those blurb things on people's websites?(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

It just feel so gross whoring out my deeply held passions and struggles for a spot in med school

No I'm talking about college essays lmao sorry for derailing

The blurb things are an interesting topic though!

Have you guys writtent those before and does anyone actually like writing them?

carcarchu

i had to write a blurb about myself for my university's website and yeah it was uncomfy

lemme see if i can find it

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I HATE writing those

because I just start like, "Crona J. is an artist and writer from Chicago......." And I have no idea how to continue

Deo101 [Millennium]

god yeah even just writing a profile or about me is hard enough!!!

I'm always like "deo - 22 - she/her - illustrator - webcomic author - student" and then i leave it

thats it thats all you get

depending on the platform i MIGHT put bi - disabled and thats it!!!!

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

yeah

half of the stuff I write doesn't even feel relevant to the audience either

who cares that I have been drawing since I was 12 lol?

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Mate I don't even write those. My bio is like "UCSD" "Read my comic"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

hahaha

Deo101 [Millennium]

I also always feel like when I see "ive been drawing since I was 5!" I kinda think like... well everyone has been -_- like this doesnt tell me anything, how long have you been an aspiring pro, how long have you been studying art...? that tells me more

so I never put that kind of stuff in my biod either

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

yeah, and also, I didn't go to prestigious school, so I don't even include my college

and I only have one comic project so far, just under a chapter

so what do I write?

Not that important an issue, but irksome nonetheless

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I don't include my school because it's prestigious, I include it because it's not an art college

Deo101 [Millennium]

owch

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I want fellow stem-y yet artsy people from my school to recognize me as one of them(edited)

DEO stop interupptung me at the worst points!!

Deo101 [Millennium]

i love jumping to conclusions. so no.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

If it's a bio where I can talk about the comics, I try to spotlight a few tropes/genres that'll catch the eye of potential readers. Not a full-fledged summary, just a quick hit of If You Like These Words, You'll Probably Like Reading It. ("Fantasy, comedy, shapeshifters, PTSD, time travel, cats")

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

And if it's gonna be personal, same deal with bits of personal info -- not trying to be a Comprehensive Biography, just pulling a few details that are relatable connection points

The problem with "I've always wanted to be a writer/artist/cartoonist" isn't just how generic it is, the problem is also the vibe of "here's my thing, your role in this is to support me"

Whereas if you say something like "I like drawing cute girls and writing fantasy," the response can be "oh hey, I like seeing cute girls and reading fantasy, tell me more!"

Or if you go with "Sailor Moon fan, will put extra cheese on everything," people can go "cool, that's relatable, we can like Sailor Moon and cheese together." It gets at your shared investment in a fun thing, it's not about expecting them to be personally invested in you

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I think perhaps the most fundamental thing is "you can't please everyone." I've never liked the 'random food related weird tidbit tacked on' thing because it feels too try-hardish to me, but I understand for other people, it's not a matter of trying too hard and is genuinely how they just talk.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

Oh definitely, you hold out for a bio that connects with everyone and you'll never get it done

AntiBunny

Personally I'm not great at drawing cars. It's why all my cars early on in the comic were side view only, and old blocky looking things. It was all I could do. I've been getting better by using references.

Every so often I buy a little hotweels or matchbox car when I'm buying groceries. I aim for realistic ones based on real vehicles, especially utility vehicles like ice cream trucks, ambulances, fire trucks, and whatnot you'd see every day in a city. I keep a little box of them on my desk, so if the scene calls for a car to be visible, I have a reference that can help me get all the curves and angles right.

Sure beats drawing from memory, but also practice time in the sketchbook with them is a necessity.

Now crowd scenes are beginning to be my bane. Not because they're hard to draw, just because they're time consuming.

Suddenly I realize why old episodes of Sailor Moon has cities with people free sidewalks and empty streets.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

That's a great idea, gathering the model cars! I should do that for a future comic.

kayotics

I also struggle with cars so, uh, my comic takes place in fantasy 1700-1800s

But also horses are bad too

Cars and horses! They suck

Deo101 [Millennium]

do what I did and make up an easier animal to draw than a horse ;)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Vehicles in general. Should just put everyone on roller blades and be done with it

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'd lov that tbh

kayotics

I’ve considered making something other than horses......

Deo101 [Millennium]

I highly encourage it, the people love it and also so does my brain

kayotics

Or else lean into them being ugly

Deo101 [Millennium]

heres the trick about horses though they look really weird and as small as you make their legs, when you think "this is way too thin..." youre wrong and their ankles are probably smaller than that

kayotics

The thing that gets me is their faces

Deo101 [Millennium]

... mask

kayotics

Hahaha

I should just make deer the normal mode of transport

Deo101 [Millennium]

that would be really cute tbh

kayotics

I love deer and they’re cute

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Just exaggerate them to the point where it looks like a style choice

Your people already have unrealistic proportions

Why not the horses too

kayotics

That’s how I draw buildings tbh because I hate buildings

Deo101 [Millennium]

I also gave horses dog mouths, maybe do something like that? someone can be like "horses dont look like that?" and as long as youre consistent you can say "they do in this world!!!"

kayotics

Oh god no that’s like a devil creature

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah they look horrible but its fun

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I legit remember saying that to you deo lmao

Deo101 [Millennium]

ive had dog horse for years you didnt give me this

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Not the they look horrible part

kayotics

I’ve already got beasts, I don’t need horses to look WORSE than they did

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Bwah I remember

Time to archive dig(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

I love dog horse

kayotics

Honestly it’s good but they scare me

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah... maybe instead give them cat mouths

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

https://discordapp.com/channels/472908933045026827/634081658018070549/688589449562423422

wait omg this is the message that led to your first dm to me lmao

Deo101 [Millennium]

is it??? omg i think it is... historical moment

dog horse brings us together

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Another point to convince kay to draw uncanny animals!

Deo101 [Millennium]

what I do to make birds fun to draw is making them sparkly

maybe try that

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

god you're gonna ruin kay's carefully crafted aesthetic

is this your competitiveness showing its face again(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

they can make it work! why do you doubt their abilities

make this the main mode of transport

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

ah is that how it works in that case i have 10 shitty indie game ideas

make them pls

Deo101 [Millennium]

implying my ideas are shitty??? rude!

kayotics

I have an aesthetic?

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Or if you want to be very efficient, everyone in universe can teleport

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

lmao you have an excellent aesthetic

crona

i do that already

kayotics

Crona.... that’s my comic already!! Haha

Deo101 [Millennium]

kay does also have teleporting to be clear

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

don't underestimate my laziness!

Deo101 [Millennium]

LMAO

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

See

It must be great advice

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

oh crap you're right kay also does have teleporting

and unrealistic beasts, to be fair

kayotics

Sometimes on the same page

That’s the eyes I draw on the beasts

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Or be even lazier, and make it so that horses and beasts either don't exist or haven't been domesticated in that region. Everyone walks. Their feet hurt, but their calves are glorious.

Deo101 [Millennium]

you get it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

wait crona and deo also have comics where teleportation could exist

will you join us?

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

lol, yup

Deo101 [Millennium]

nope

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

(nah, I've already drawn horses. They're not so bad if you stare at photos)

sierrabravo (Hans Vogel is Dead)

drawing horses is fun!!

[multiple people are typing]

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

And there will also be hella walking, because the leg game must be strong, otherwise I'm not doing my job

Deo101 [Millennium]

ive decided that millennium is like really in the future but things like time travel, teleportation, warp speed... nope! You can go really fast in a spaceship but like nothin crazy

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

man these planets real close together then

or maybe people just live a really long time ...?

Deo101 [Millennium]

I just do my version of teleporting which is "wow it'll take a week to get there" and then its a week later

dont worry about it

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

nice

Deo101 [Millennium]

its not realistic, but its consistent

🌈ERROR404 🌈

ahhhh horses are really nice to draw imo, if i can get it right lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

I like drawing horses a lot I just never do it tbh

🌈ERROR404 🌈

something needs to fuel my addiction to cowboy culture

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Consistency is key tbh

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I just do my version of teleporting which is "wow it'll take a week to get there" and then its a week later

when my whole comic takes place in like a week lmao

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

if you decide that gravity doesn't exist in your world, as log as you're consistent with it, you're golden

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

in the unlikely event i get tired of drawing my comic i can adopt deo's strat "wow it'll take a week to get to the ending"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

My comic takes place in about a year (not counting flashbacks which span... uh... a very long time)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

"man sure seems like this conflict will take approximately a week to be resolved" "one week later"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

hahaha

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

"sure did get resolved"

the end

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

convenient

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i wonder if anyone's done that

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

One Korean series I followed for years did it

and everyone was pissed, as you can imagine

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

lol

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

better than cancellation?

Deo101 [Millennium]

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

what a way to go

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I'd honestly have preferred cancellation/ abandonment

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Just have a fan finish it for you at that rate lmao

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

OH that's a good discussion topic. If you got tired of your comic, or life got in the the way of you working on it anymore, how would you end it as quickly as possible?

Deo101 [Millennium]

maybe rephrase that a little

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I would toss it at my little sis, and she would do it for me, no joke

Deo101 [Millennium]

My little sister also would probably take over it for me

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

let's move to general?

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

eyyy!

Deo101 [Millennium]

but also I could just be like "They got an email that john died of old age its over now"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

MVP sisters!

lol

an email

what a way to end it

eliushi [Keyspace]

For me it’s panels. Past me thought that the four panel structure would make things easy. Nope. It’s limiting how I want to tell the story so... I’m trying to branch out now and looking for other inspirations for panel and layout

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Just change the shape of your panels. It forces you to be creative.

eliushi [Keyspace]

True true! I have those in upcoming updates

But my heart swoons for the page spreads

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

oh yes

They are so gorgeous, but difficult to plan

eliushi [Keyspace]

Initially I was planning on storyboards but now I’m more comfortable with comics I think I’ll be aiming for traditional layouts

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah, storyboards are an entirely different beast

Desnik

I'm currently working on clearly portraying character motivation

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I think for me I don't draw animals often and rip have to draw a few for the upcoming pages so I'm just doing my best at this point lol

AntiBunny

Panel arrangement is the heart of comics as an art form. It takes practice, and study to learn how the eye flows from one thing to the next.

And once you have a thorough understanding of the rules you can learn how to carefully break them to produce something truly eye catching.

If I had to say the simplest rule to understanding flow is, if you need arrows to tell you which direction to read, then you're doing something wrong.

DanitheCarutor

This is candy for my self-deprecating mentality. Lol Honestly though. I'm not the best at writing in general, I don't like doing it physically, avoiding it at all cost (outside of dialogue and poorly done bullet points on scrap paper.) so I don't really know if/think I'm particularly good at it. I remember the last time I tried to physically write something was back in high school, I still have it saved on my computer, but it was something else. Too many dialogue scenes and overly detailed descriptions of things and characters. I only made it a little ways before giving up with "You know, this will be easier to just show than describe.". Story and character wise for my current comic, I'm not sure how well it's turning out or how good it will be in the end, my brain defaults my work to mediocre so I tend to be totally blind to what I'm doing right. I know my characters aren't the best for sure since they're all fleshy flaw bags with too many flaws, and I know I could have presented certain scene changes and such better, but that's all I can think of objectively. The art portion is something I at least know I can execute decently, but my color composition is the worst. I'm aware that I need to improve it, and I know what needs to be done, but it's something I can't really accomplish with my comic since I just want to focus on finishing pages. I'll have to make time to draw up some throw-away illustrations to experiment with, which I hope to have a little bit of now that I'm not on a regular update schedule. Also I can't draw vehicles and architecture for the life of me, I've referenced and studied but I still can't wrap my head around it. ALSO extreme angles and perspectives are still things I need work on, like 4-point circular perspective, ground level shots and over the head shots.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

There's a lot of things I want to improve, but something I haven't seen mentioned yet: I would like to get better at deciphering feedback, how to glean useful things from multiple conflicting feedback.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Ooh that's a good one keii

I haven't really had to deal with that before though because all the negative feedback I've gotten is pretty consistent

Can I ask what the conflicting feedback you got is?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Oh gosh, I legit spent a long, long moment trying to figure out where to even start

eliushi [Keyspace]

I really like this approach to feedback

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Yo Eli this is so good

eliushi [Keyspace]

Mary robinette is goals

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

this is spectacular already

wow

eliushi [Keyspace]

Pretty sure a wiser writer passed this onto me I have since used it a lot and it works for me

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

This is so so good Perfectly said about crits in creative fields

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

One example I can think of isn't actually something that was criticized, but showed up a lot in various ways: "this is (supposed to be) an exciting adventure romp centering Danbi" vs "this is an emotional journey story centering Ethan" ... Not a criticism, but two very conflicting interpretations. People who have one interpretation are shocked and confused when I tell them about the other one.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Holy crap, Eli... This is one for the folder of absolute knowledge

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

woah, excellent advice

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

And yeah, that is a really good one. Symptoms are extremely useful, and diagnoses tend to be more useful in a conversation rather than a one-way "here is my diagnosis" thing

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I haven't heard it said before but the explaining eliminating a clean reaction rings so true to me

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Ahhh, this is literally the one document I have needed my entire life

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

also the helping someone tell the story they want

also the stream of consiousness, MAn

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I think I'll save that for my future high schoolers lol

some of the stuff said there is what I've noticed in the last few years critquing in academic settings but its nice to kno!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

People have given me stream of consciousness reactions before and they were the most helpful. Almost all the changes in the story from others' reactions were from stream of consciousness reactions, not intentional critiques

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, one of the most helpful "critique" I ever got was also completely unintentional

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

One of the most useful tips in this guide for me in particular is the "As a writer don't:" section. I struggle with it a lot.

On the note of things we are bad at in the comic-making process, I am very bad at taking critiques!(edited)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

tbh for a long time, my biggest struggling point that's not in the "as a writer don't:" is "don't throw yourself into the void of self-hate." I'm better now, but boy, when it was bad, it was bad.

But perhaps that kinda thing better fits into "as a person don't:"

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I am pretty good at taking critiques, but pretty bad at giving critiques! Right now the point I'm at is I'm just gonna not give critiques until I'm more mature

But then after I decided that an amateur writer friend told me his story idea that I not only disliked but was sort of offended by

and I really wanted to tell him but I didn't know how to do it nicely...

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

ooof

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

oh no

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

yeah, that's really tough

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

rip I tend to do kinda a sandwich method. I had to say some rough things few days ago on a practice pitch run and I pretty much said

Deo101 [Millennium]

Uh oh

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

"Your idea is developing for sure, but I think you need to reconsider some of the world building choices you done. Have you thought of researching such and such."

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

That's basically what I said

But I think I had to say "research ffs" in increasing intensity like 3 times lol

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Oh, nice, the "let's give them compliments too so that they know I'm not just being mean" method

It's a good method tbh

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Rip it's not that like

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Deo might have something to say about this but it was about schizophrenics in a mental institution being portrayed in a real weird way by someone who didn't know anything about it(edited)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Ooof

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ah man

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

ewww

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'll always stand by "asking people who've lived what you're writing about is the best form of research and can't be replaced"

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Yeah I would said the to the person consider researching more on the topic and interview folks who have schizophrenia

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Dude I brought you up lmao

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

and also like "is there a reason you want to depict it this way?"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

oooh

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I know I'm agreeing idk... Idk what else I'd have to say on the topic

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

That's a very good question to ask someone

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

and depending on their responses, I would just put my two scents in there that rip

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I always ask "what are your goals?" Before I ask anything else

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

critiques are kinda my strong point sinc eLMAO I do em all the time in my class

and teaching so yeah LOL

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Deo I mean I brought you up to this guy like saying "my friend messaged people online and they were super willing to talk to her you could do that"

Deo101 [Millennium]

OHHHHH gotcha

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I try my best to figure out what they want out of it and just deliever with some handful of suggestions

but I won't sugarcoat it unless you're a high school student or younger lmao

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I'm often told I'm a lil too harsh but like idk

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I wouldn't say sugar coating it per say... More just telling them what their strengths are too, so that they have an idea of where they're at

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

telling someone their strengths is just as useful as telling them their flaws

that way they can highlight them

like just because you story has no flaws doesn't mean it's good right?

gotta have stuff that stands out in a good way as well

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Someone once phrased it as "Let's list everything that's wrong here, and find out how we can fix them" vs "How do we take this to the next level?" and that really resonated with me. It's not about sugarcoating; it's more about helping them get to the next level in the direction they wanna go.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

THIS

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I try to point out things that are going well, and I usually try to only point at things that ppl can work on immediately

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I should phrase my statement more clearly. But yeah Kei that's what I usually look for when critiquing

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

There's often no need to tell them "your writing is only at level 3, and that's bad because the max level is 99." Just tell them how to get to level 4.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I dont' see it like its something bad but something that is challenging to them at the time

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Unless they have extremely unrealistic expectations or whatever that are standing in their own way

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

just have to figure out how to get out of the hump

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Yep. I see this phenomenon in animation a lot. A good animation director will help you boost your existing work to something stronger, but still yours. A bad one will tell you to do it their way, and chide you for doing it ‘wrong.’

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

rip I know a person like that and lmao

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yessssss

That's why I always ask "what are your goals" to start

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yup

🌈ERROR404 🌈

I totally agree!!!! A LOT of the most important bits of great criticism is understanding exactly where the original creator was intending to go, and formatting your statements around helping them achieve that!!!!!!!

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Critiques are impossible if you don't know what the person is trying to achieve

🌈ERROR404 🌈

Just stating things that you would change if you were making it may seem useful and relevant to you the critic, but unless the creator is headed the exact same direction as you, they have just as much reason to invalidate the entire statement as they do to nit pick out the things they care to agree with

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Sometimes a prospective critic is simply too far removed from the target audience of the work, like on a fundamental level, and it makes it impossible to give them useful feedback. I think it's important to acknowledge that this can happen. It happens to me a lot and I just decline to give crits when it does.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah, like don't ask me to critique a comic about sports lmao

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I agree on that notion, esepcially when seeing professional aritsts giving crits to folks starting out but it doesn't go as er ideal as they thought it would be

Deo101 [Millennium]

That's why I usually only seek out criticsm (for more than just general direction/advice) from people who's work I like

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I remember reading advice on getting beta readers, and it’s really REALLY important that they’re excited for your stuff. They want to make it better. They care. They can give critique, but they absolutely must be jazzed about your subject matter in some way, or else it’ll be a slog for everyone.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

for me, I have my peers who I contact daily and we give each other advice, tips

despite having er difference interests in fields, but we experienced a lot in our program lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yes... (Speaking of if anyone wanted to beta read my next comic uhhhh let me know id love to have u)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

very good point claire

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

100 percent agree Get people who are excited and know your vision

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I have a small group of writer friends who know all my goals and a lot of my stuff? So they make a very good little critique circle, and we all help eachother

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I'm always ready to beta read if it's a concept I enjoy

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

like people who critique comics they hate. I'm like, damn, tough work but also ?? why

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

(Be careful about people who are excited about what they think is your vision.............)

Deo101 [Millennium]

Fish is this a callout for me

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

slightly?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ahsjfkdjdkskdjdjdj

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Keii I experienced the oppisisite like rip

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

it's just mystifying to me, I don't think it's wrong or anything

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also crona I'll send u when I'm at my comp

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

sure

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

What do you mean Tuyetnhi?

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Ohh that would be oof to deal with Kei

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I had to let a person down to reality bc I know they're excited about their idea but uhhhh

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

(Is it the fish romance?)

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

it wasn't engaging to me

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yes that one qjdjfkskdkk

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

nor my illustration friends

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I don’t have beta readers but I think that’s how it all goes lol

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

and we were like

"AAAAAAA"

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh that's awkward

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Ooooooohhhhhhh... oof

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I have a couple friends I send pages to sometimes but they're always really positive about it

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

It was a rough critique

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Having creative friend circles is so essential for growth and screaming at eachothers works for motivation too

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yessss

Also just the ability to talk about your process without having to explain yourself

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

agreed lol

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I occasionally tap my fiance's shoulder and shove my sketches in his face with zero context, just to make sure he can figure out what's going on without me explaining. Super helpful

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I feel like I have a couple friends where, when I read their stuff, I know things that would amp their work up tenfold. But until they ask me... I’m screaming inside lol

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

lol

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

my friend always makes me feel like i'm a better writer than i am because she thinks so much like me she gets everything i write perfectly lol. But then I post and the comments are like "wtf i'm confused"(edited)

eliushi [Keyspace]

Yeah feedback is most effective when both sides are open and invested

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Claire Senpai Wants To Help

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

also same crona(edited)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

It’s not bad, I just go I THINK I CAN HELP YOU MAKE IT AWESOMER AHHHHHH

eliushi [Keyspace]

Claire senpaiiii

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

But until then I remain still and supportive

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

why don't you ask them "can i suggest things?"

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I try and keep my mouth shut

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

or "do you want suggestions?"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

lol

eliushi [Keyspace]

I usually say what I like about it first and then. Are you looking for feedback?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Tbh hearing "can I suggest things?" Usually comes off kinda like "I see stuff wrong with this :)" which can hurt a little even then

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

YEeeeah

🌈ERROR404 🌈

At least for my comic, i have sent bits and pieces for critique from creators i am friends with , but i'm really hesitant promoting myself because I don't feel like I'm not at a place to even get a critique i'll be able to make anything of. O(--( i really don't know what I'd do if someone tried to seriously analyze my plot and break down the story right now

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

It's really hard, because a lot of people (myself included) get scared when someone else asks, "Do you need help?"

Deo101 [Millennium]

I usually trust ppl to say whether they're looking for feedback

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Its always so tricky to gague the reactions of that. Some people handle that better than others So i only offer when they open up

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Based on how people can get about even the offer of critique, yeah, I tend not to say anything. That’s their baby. If they want to open that door, then I’ll poke my head in

eliushi [Keyspace]

True too. I’m already in forums where feedback is wanted so I’m already in selection bias

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah, I like to only offer crits if someone is asking for it for that reason

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

for the record i'm always open to critiques

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

kinda mutal agreement on don't chime in unless asked lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah, at least in my groups we send things like "hey this and this are bothering me? Can you help?" And other than that it's just support

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah, that's a good idea

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

for both parties. For me, If it's something that I need thoughts I ask but otherwise, lmao my social circles ask me for help for their art stuff

Deo101 [Millennium]

We never agreed on that btw it's just kinda how it goes

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

That's a nice group way to handle that AND make the space more breathable for others who are more nervous about crit work

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

exactly

eliushi [Keyspace]

There’s a time and place for everything and feedback is no different

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah! Like here we have seperate chats for help and sharing

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yuss

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

When someone asks me if I'm open to suggestions, my reaction is usually "nOOoooOo..." but not always. I think it helps a ton if there's an existing rapport, like if I already know this person gets, REALLY gets, my work.

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

And that's okay Keii!

eliushi [Keyspace]

Yeah I’m super thankful for my betas for that

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

yee same

eliushi [Keyspace]

It’s very rewarding when people are also invested in your work to make it better within your means and style

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Honestly u gotta do whats best for u and ur mindset in the end.

Deo101 [Millennium]

It also is a little but awkward to say "no I'm not open to suggestions' cause it feels like you're saying "I don't care to improve" when in reality it's more like "no... I'm happy with this and I don't want it to be soured"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I love the fact that if I post in #creator_art_share, nobody will critique me unless I ask. And if I post in #art_help, I can get that help. So incredibly nice

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Yes! Thats very respectful

eliushi [Keyspace]

So key

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Omg Deo.....such a mood LOL

Deo101 [Millennium]

I always feel so bad saying no thanks but it's like it looked good I thought

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

omg, I felt that in my soul

We beat ourselves up enough as it is

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Sometimes i know my work can be farty but... I dont also want perfection in every facet of my pieces too and thats okay! Some are learning pieces, others more indulgent

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah!

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I think I'd be very hesitant to accept ideas that will utterly break my core plot... unless someone comes out and outright tells me something about it is offensive or wrong or otherwise bad. But critique on the connective tissue between the bones, so to speak, heck yes. I've gotten some much better ideas from that.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

e.e even if i post in art share i would be honored to receive a critique from any of you

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Oh, if someone comes to me with suggestions that are that incompatible with my vision, I'm getting outta there.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

but i don't wanna post every single thing i do in art help hm

but maybe i should

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I am SO getting outta there.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I did had some suggestions that didn't... really help with my comic most of it are just comments and not pure criticism

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Just post it lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah it's probably best to leave crit in the crit section so as not to break that unspoken rule.

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

To signal to the rest of us

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Yea your vision is key, and i find that people who crit the work need a basic understanding of it for it to be a True Crit

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Yeah it's probably best to leave crit in the crit section so as not to break that unspoken rule.

good point

i wouldn't want people critiquing me to make others feel like it's okay to do that to everyone

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

A good attitude!!! Y'all are very respectable this is a wonderful topic

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

yeee

eliushi [Keyspace]

I think the best feedback is one where it makes your work become more effective within your vision. Sometimes it’s finding the betas who are invested but I also find betas who focus on different crafts also can offer a lot of wisdom. I find it comes down to being open and it’s never a bad thing to ask for clarification

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

[also writes this down for a potential lesson actvity for high schoolers] (edited)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, a critique is supposed to help the work become a better version of itself, not a better [something else]

Deo101 [Millennium]

Mostly with true beta reading I am looking for "how clear is my work coming off to someone who knows nothing of my lore and backstory etc?"

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I like the idea of having at least one beta reader who's a writer, and at least one who's not. The writer can dissect things a bit more than a 'civilian' could while the civilian can look at surface-level things and react as the audience majority might.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

multiple beta readers are a blessing lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

Cause with my friends, they already know everything I'm planning, so i worry a lot that they are putting together things that a regular reader wouldn't

So yeah same thing as a "civilian" reader, sort of!

eliushi [Keyspace]

For sure. Within my critique group I have novelists, webcomic creators and artists. Those who read the complete script and those who haven’t. It’s important to have all sides I find

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Dang you people with your luxury of multiple beta readers... I don't even have one (but it's mostly my fault; my scripts are unreadable)

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

omg lol

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i'm sure you could use many of us as beta readers if you wanted to!

varethane

that surface-level 'first gut reaction' crit can be SO useful

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I change dialogue too frequently for a beta reader to have a fair chance, lol

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I started early with one years ago, but now I have like 5-10ish but they can't help me at the same time lmao

varethane

I agree upthread with when it was said that some of the most helpful crit was given unintentionally lol

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

same. i asked some people, including deo and crona, for a beta read of a script a while back but then ended up changing most of it lol(edited)

eliushi [Keyspace]

Most of my betas I found in forums like these! I’m sure a lot of us want to help each other out!

Deo101 [Millennium]

I usually only share stuff once I have at least a solid sketch and dialogue is in

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

so much changes in the thumbnail/layout stage for me. SO MUCH. whole scenes get swapped/cut/extended

I never keep it the same way

Deo101 [Millennium]

I don't like to share scripts cause also I don't usually script much anyways lol

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

@keii’ii (Heart of Keol) As a long-time reader of HoK, I would be more than happy to beta read if you ever wanted it. Just throwing that out there!

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

same Lazuli like

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I'd love to beta read for anyone too

varethane

I prefer sharing sketched pages because my scripts usually change SO much in between being written and going onto the page

like, sometimes they're outright unrecognizable

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

@Deo101 [Millennium] Same. The couple times I really wasn't unsure about a scene, I had to find someone and give them cleaned up thumbnails

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I don't share more than sketched pages with dialogue

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

SUPER cleaned up thumbnails

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

from thumbnail to final, like they aren't the same from before lmao

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Most helpful critique for me was just someone engaging with the story. "Man I love - and -, they're such good friends, but - pisses me the fuck off" and that was my intention, but i realized it was coming on a bit stronger than i liked and changed the next scene dramatically to make a future plot point where the last character needs to be trusted feel more earned(edited)

varethane

(anyone who seriously is down for beta reading, I have 3 finished chapters burning a hole in my buffer hhnnnnggggg)

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah cause also like, 80% of the crit is usually "well this paneling is unclear" kind of stuff too

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

also i don't mind if anyone is asking me to beta read

Deo101 [Millennium]

Which you can't do from a script anyways

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

or (I don't usually do this often but)

I'm also a sensitivity beta reader too

so if you have questions about POC stuff, asian-american, er mixed-asian or mixed-black experiences

I'm willing to help lmao

but i'm just one perspective to the table

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

A lot of comments, not critiques, have influenced scenes I put later too. Things to clarify, expand, emphasize. I take every comment like that as an idea. I love knowing what the readers hope to learn.

eliushi [Keyspace]

I’m in the midst of a 180k plus word count novel beta and alphaing a couple works but once that’s all done, happy to take a look too

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

holy

Deo101 [Millennium]

Wowie

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Getting trustful beta readers i gotta say again is so important bc sometimes when asking for some, u run into betas that are there to just exploit that privilege too (tho rare) And!!!! Be respectful of ur betas on the other side of the spectrum

Deo101 [Millennium]

Exploit how?

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

like to read your work early?

eliushi [Keyspace]

Definitely pick your betas wisely

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Usually just the free ride of Knowing the Story or the opportunity to just Constantly Crit (non helpful) bc of personal reasons

Deo101 [Millennium]

Damn

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I'm imagining having someone sneak in as a beta and reveal they're a rabid toxic fan trying to influence the plot to their liking. As an absolute worst scenario

Deo101 [Millennium]

Spooky

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Yea.... There's def ppl out there that would do that THOUGH RARE again. I think that's more of like Competition in the field or spite? But ive heard it happening and its not cool

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

like people just looking for a free ticket to complain about your work?

i can see that

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Oh yeah, I had folks like that before

after that I'm just like "thank you for your time" and block them after LMAO

Deo101 [Millennium]

That sucks :(

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

hhhhhhh

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Yea And u can always tell a sincere crit from a one that comes from a place of malice and ill intent pretty easy.

eliushi [Keyspace]

Exactly

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

oof

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Still!!! A horrible experience

Deo101 [Millennium]

:< yeah

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah.. I've never had anything like that happen, but wow... that's a terrifying notion

eliushi [Keyspace]

You tend to want to know your betas more than just them being a reader too. I like to think my betas are my friends and it’s a two way street where I help them too

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Some betas sign papers of confidentiality to avoid these instances of people running off with ur work too

eliushi [Keyspace]

There are paid betas but that’s business side and yeah Krispy

Deo101 [Millennium]

/stress

eliushi [Keyspace]

I don’t have them for mine

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Its scary bc we're all so small and our work is mainly for free U have to be wary of this

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I could easily see myself getting sucked into a bad situation like that I trust people too easily sometimes

but ugh... ya gotta learn

eliushi [Keyspace]

It’s good to know the risks. That being said, I think the rewards of having a good beta far exceed the bad apples. You have to set good boundaries

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Not that any of yall would do this omgjghg

Deo101 [Millennium]

Same Claire ajdjdnsdjjjdjdjdjddj

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

gonna steal all y'alls IDEAS

eliushi [Keyspace]

It’s also totally valid to say, hey something came up and I can’t beta anymore

Key is communication

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

lmao ya gotta kill me for my ideas

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Isossn Watch out for that Claire lady

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

https://tenor.com/view/laugh-giggle-mutley-dick-dastardly-snicker-gif-5552702

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Omg Eli yesssSSSSS that!!! Is important for both creator and beta to have that communication

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Oh no, my precious ideas!!!

Deo101 [Millennium]

Eh even if u steal my ideas you can never steal my characterizations!

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

just steal everything and make a horrible hodgepodge of all of our webcomics, like some sick frankenstein's monster

Deo101 [Millennium]

I don't think my ideas are the best part of my stories anyways :P

Ahsjdjfjdjfjdjfjdififiididkfkdje Frankensteins webcomic

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

my ideas are relevant to my cultural background so I'm like lmao

eliushi [Keyspace]

I learned from my novel days that ideas are dime and dozen and it’s the execution that counts(edited)

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I would actually love that tbh

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Oh no id read it tho XD

Deo101 [Millennium]

Massive crossover event

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

YES

PLEASE

eliushi [Keyspace]

Super smash bros when

varethane

lmao

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

hahaha

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I really want people going into healthcare to critique my personal statement, but I won't send it to anyone because I've legitimately heard of people stealing others' personal statements and getting both people rejected

Deo101 [Millennium]

Wow

eliushi [Keyspace]

That’s scary and unfortunate

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

ooof

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

it's almost worse than stealing a story idea because you're stealing like

someone's life story??

or their personality??

it's extremely strange to me

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah that's ??????

eliushi [Keyspace]

I would consider having a mentor look over your statement but that’s veering off creator babble territory

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

oh i am doing that and very very thankful to them

Deo101 [Millennium]

Good suggestion and good point

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

After recently seeing a whole comic style/theme completely and obviously lifted from another one... yeah, the things that make your comic yours? They can absolutely be stolen whole-cloth

It's scary

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

oh no

god what even is the fun in that??

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I don't know. I really don't.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

you know what i want to spend years doing? telling a story that's already been told, except worse!

varethane

Deo101 [Millennium]

I've had someone steal designs before

varethane

dpsofasdj I am so curious about these cases now aaahhh

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ppl do steal stuff. But what sucks for them is I'm the one with a brain and I can make new things

eliushi [Keyspace]

I’ve seen similar styles but have not seen a purposeful recreation of another’s style whether as impersonation or plagiarism

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

i just read a webtoon that was "inspired" by an anime with many ideas from anime too

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

It was a case where I always thought the two looked surprisingly similar, but then... yeah, you learn more things and you go AW GOD OKAY

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

this, and offensive stuff, is a case where i think unsolicited critique is 100% okay

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah, though then it's the line of "is it offensive just to me? Or overall?"

Though I guess saying "this offended me" isn't horrible or whatever

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i think of the trend of lgbt youtubers making videos making fun of anti-lgbt crap and that's a case where i'm like yeah! pile on!

You have a good point and there are cases where something is almost objectively offensive

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah, and then there are other cases where ppl are offended by how I've decided to have no homophobia where it's like "okay sure but I'm not doing anything wrong"

But yeah there are definitely times where it's like "no that's bad for sure and I'm allowed to be critical of and mad about it"

I also think there's a difference between criticizing mass media and criticizing independent media

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Wait What what omg???? Thats???? So backwards

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

well, here's an anti-critique. it offends me when someone says that being lgbt must be hard and sad all the time!

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah! I'd agree with that LOL

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

can I just be happy

as a bi woman

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

"IT'S NOT LIKE MY LIFE THEREFORE IT'S INACCURATE"

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ahdjfjskfkdkckskfksdksk yeah

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

So true tho!!

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

God, I hate that argument

Deo101 [Millennium]

Though I do think that its worth it to open yourself up to that kind of critique to potentially reach the people who do need your story

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

Yes def agree

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

True true

If there's a blind spot you're missing, then for sure

Deo101 [Millennium]

Well, I was meaning more like "you can't please everyone, but that shouldn't stop you from trying your best anyways!"

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Ah! also true

Deo101 [Millennium]

Like not necessarily blind spots, but more like. Some people will be mad no matter what sorta thing

Yee

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

so tru

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Yeah for sure. I've tried to cover my bases on certain things in my own work, but I'm sure if it ever gets bigger, someone will be unhappy about something.

I'm not ready for that day, but... maybe it'll come

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah. Like I said I had someone get mad at me for not having homophobia

Where it's like... Okay stop reading then cause this isn't the story for you

Actually my friends replied to then and they did kinda turn around on their thinking, I think, so that was nice!

There's something I'm bad at for the question, is replying to my comments

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

oh? :0

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

okay sometimes i've said to my friends "yo weird ass comment, right?" and they've gone and defended me like way extra hard

i'm always grateful but also a little (edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah same. .

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

too mch man

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah it's like Thank you but

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I do have some weird comments but the ones that I just kinda trying to offend me

I don't look at it till after a few months and respond to them calmly lmao

no point for me to just get rilied up for someone trying to get on my nerves but rip that's probably just me and how I deal with that stuff in irl too

I don't let my friends go after bozos lmao

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah for me I just like. Try really hard to be diplomatic, I guess? But it takes a lot of energy

When what I WANT to say is "lol read another comic then" or something but I try to think of a way to be nice

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

yee I understand on that. for me I'm just say it as it is if at's the moment but for more heated comments I address them after a few months lol

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I haven't gotten any weird randos yet apart from... one legendary one But things are always calmer on your own site far away from Tapas/Webtoons

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I agree on that but lmao

I did had one angry commenter going agro for few of my pages

and I looked at it and I was like "Oh worm man"

they were just reacting to my characters being shit LMAO

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

OH WORM MAN

very good

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I ignore it tbh. I recently had someone comment "All lives matter" at the end of my comic because I included "Black lives matter" at the end. And I honestly knew i didn't have the mental fortitude to explain to them why that was so rude and missing the point.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

lol my mom is saying that stuff and i'm just like :|

okay mother

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

I guess for writing for me, now thinking about it is that

on the prompt: I don't respond quick and I'm not really active much on interaction but I want to try more

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I haven't gotten any weird randos yet apart from... one legendary one But things are always calmer on your own site far away from Tapas/Webtoons

I really haven't either though! Just a few people saying mildly :| things, no hate or anything. Wt is not always as scary as its reputation

or maybe i'm in the eye of the hurricane idk

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

lol

I have had mostly good experiences too

Deo101 [Millennium]

I've had mostly good too!

I know I complain a lot but really I'm just salty and that's just a few bad things here and there

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

The comment I was thinking about earlier was just an innaccurate interpretation of characters' feelings. They thought some people had a romantic history. I wasn't going to respond but my friend went all "if you actually read the comic you would see th- " and I was thinking omg tone it down a bit

Deo101 [Millennium]

Bajsjdjekdjdkdjd

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

never underestimate the Friend Army

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I had a reader I didn't know defend me in the comments once. The original commenter was complaining about the length of my updates, and the other reader started railing on them. It was powerful lmao. I didn't even need to say anything

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh! same

Deo101 [Millennium]

I've had some ppl defend me or explain for me and it's like. Idk a special kind of magic ahahahah

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Oh for sure! It feels magical to know that some of your readers passionately love your work

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Update-length complainers are so cathartic to smack down. Not that I've done it, I just... like seeing it

You're getting a free comic. Made by a human with a life. Chill

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

All my comments are normal where are my weirdos

boogeymadam

someone take some of my weirdos, my comic attracts them

but not really because i accidentally gave claire one of my weirdos and i feel Sooooo bad

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

i feel im still a long way off from getting anyone with my comic

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

weirdos are contagious apparently

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

You don't have to be popular to get a weirdo

Sometimes like... you could have 1 regular commenter and that person is a weirdo

or not even a commenter, you show your work to a RL friend before posting it online, and the friend takes off their mask dramatically, and reveals their True Identity as a professional weirdo

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

for real, i was posting on SJ and had all of like a dozen followers and one guy went through and heavily critiqued a ton of my pages

Like technical stuff like paneling and flow of action?

Also said my female lead looks like a man and my animation was nauseating lol

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

heh well after i do this current update im working on, i'll be scraping how ive been doing updates and following some tutorials i finally found

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I like critique but even so that guy was :|

boogeymadam

omg noooo sorry that happened fish! D: unsolicited critics are some of the worst

DanitheCarutor

I guess that is the one thing I've been lucky with. I actually don't mind unsolicited critique, but I've never gotten any outside of one time someone corrected my character's grammar in the comments. Commentary like that is way more welcome than the occasional anonymous hate comment, and malicious article calling me a fetishist, which is all entertaining in its own way but not as easy to deal with. Now that critique is brought up I'm reminded that I need to work on how I respond to it. Like, I actually get kind of excited when someone takes the time to break down my stuff (even if it totally misses the mark with what I'm trying to accomplish), but I end up responding with a novel and sometimes it's worded in a way that sounds like I'm upset. I need to get better at keeping it short and sweet.

Feather J. Fern

I raise my hand to say I can't draw hands for the life of me still after praticing for a long time. I used all the techiques, tricks, and still my hands are just butts.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

make a universe where people have butts for hands

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

This is a really minor one and thankfully easy to correct after publishing, but: my ESL-ness shows sometimes, especially with prepositions and articles. My English isn't terrible; there's just some occasional "wait did they mean 'on' where they put 'in'..." That's on the surface level. I also can't do that 'just write the dialog and see how the characters bounce off each other' thing in English. I hadn't thought much about that until I started writing a story in Korean, and I was surprised how much easier it was to get flowin' with the dialog. I'm not toooo concerned about this one, as Get Flowin' is just one way of writing a scene. But it is a thing.

Feather J. Fern

Eightfish stop calling me out that I can draw butts better than hands okay(edited)

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

feather have fun drawing the gluteus maximus

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I see nothing wrong here

Moral_Gutpunch

I'm bettign most people here can draw hands better than me.(edited)

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

S’okay, my hand drawing is pretty bad

Feet is...also an issue

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

The best reference is the one attached to you, I always say

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

or make your so pose for you

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yes

That

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

looks back at comic and sees lots of guy characters with slender palms MHMMMM

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Hahaha

Lol

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

ahahha i have the same problem

some guys have thick ass fingers when i look at them closely omg

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yeah, everyone has pretty thin fingers in mine, because I have thin fingers(edited)

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Okay yeah not gonna lie I HAVE made my SO pose for me. Several times.

Oh yeah don’t forget

Guys can have hairy knuckles too

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I have had my SO pose his hands retroactively for me, imitating a panel I did And I was screaming inside LOL

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

this stuff makes me :00

Deo101 [Millennium]

I have hairy knucles and my hands are bigger than my dads

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Ughhhh, that's too much detail for me, Shadow

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Yoslslzlzrhlzxzzkhzhlztututs funnily enough my SO’s hands and mine are of similar length

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

For such a small person, I have really long fingers

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

reminded me of a convo i had with some friends

they sent a reference and said they thought it was unrealistic because of how much the tendons stick out

and i said, no, that's how mine look

and it was interesting seeing the differences

Deo101 [Millennium]

everyone share hands

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I mean, especially since your fingers are stretched, the tendons stick out lol(edited)

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Someone told me I have piano fingers

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

like i always think of my hands as the 'default,' because I see them the most but really there is much variation

deo has nice hands

look elegant

shadows hands look a lot like the rest of her :0

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Whhhhhhhhh

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

tall librarian

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

GJOXJPSLZLJZDXKXYOF

Yeah true XD

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

My nails are super long rn

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Holy shit the manicures

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I did it myself

Deo101 [Millennium]

thank U i have lovely hands that are big as fuck, and I can use as a ruler

because my pinky and thumb can stretch out exactly 10 inches

this cup is 10 inches tall

youre welcome

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I have stubby baby hands as well as double jointed fingers, so I'm very aware my hands aren't "average" looking. Yet if I don't pay attention, I tend to draw hands kind of like mine

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Hahahaha, Deo!!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

wow so useful i should measure my hands

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Me too tbh

Deo101 [Millennium]

I atually suggest it it comes in handy (ha) more than youd think

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i found a joint that measures exactly 1 inch and i use it so much

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah!!!

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Whoooooa

Mine goes 8 inches

Deo101 [Millennium]

my hands are fookin hyuge bro

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Wait

8.5

YEAH YOURS ARE GIANT

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

exactly 8 inches

omg your hands are huge

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Mine stretch out to just under 7.5 inches

Deo101 [Millennium]

in yalls defense I also have ehlers danlos so theyre probably stretching more than yours too

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I have smol hands because I am smol

Deo101 [Millennium]

tiney

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Yus

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

surprised shadow managed to find a way to measure in inches haha

Deo101 [Millennium]

she said it wrong its actually 8.5 cm

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

8.5 inches

I used a ruler

In cm it’s 21

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

she said it wrong its actually 8.5 cm

hm maybe that's why she thinks hands are hard to draw

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

LMHfhgzmzjKfhl

Deo101 [Millennium]

because she has tiny baby hands and can barely hold the pencil... yes

its all coming together

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

I will slap y’all with my tiny baby doll hands

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i'm learning so much about you all today

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Now you see my pain

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

o h wait do you play music crona?

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Uh... Not really. I've messed around on the piano, and failed at playing the French horn

Deo101 [Millennium]

LMAO

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Playing instruments is hard for smol hands

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

rip

Feather J. Fern

My tiny hands compared to my pen XD

Also I took the picture close up and at an angle so not cone cna make fun of my writsts which are narrower than my computer mouse

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

my wrists are also narrower than my mouse, and my mouse is pretty small

Deo101 [Millennium]

mine's about the same as my mouse

Feather J. Fern

Yeah I got a pretty small mouse too, I been told by people to eat more becuase of my wrists (It's an Asian thing apparently) and I'm like "First of all rude, second of all my health is not any of your concern random lady on the street"

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

yup

Tiny wrist solidarity!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Solidarity!

varethane

I don't have especially thin wrists but my hands are lowkey shaped pretty oddly. I only posted a photo of my hand petting a cat to FB and got a lot of comments like 'cute cat but what's with that hand????'

(it did look pretty weird from that angle. Like a noodle with a couple of noodlefingers at the end)

spacerocketbunny

Oh no Vare ;;;;;3;;;;;;;;;

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

1 note · View note

asroarke · 5 years

Note

HOOWWWW HAVE YOU NEVER READ HARRY POTTER???????

God, it’s a long ass miserable story but here we go:

The gist is that when Harry Potter blew up my reading level was far below what it should have been at that age, thus I couldn’t read it without help. I didn’t have help. So, I didn’t read it.

I have a very complicated with Harry Potter that has nothing to do with the books itself and has everything to do with the people in my life who loved Harry Potter. So, please understand that nothing I’m about to say has a thing to do with the books.

Here is what my life looked like when Harry Potter entered my life: I was the highest scoring student in every single subject except reading comprehension, I had almost been held back twice because of my reading comp, and I had ADHD, which I wouldn’t learn until I was twenty years old. In third grade, we had these daily tasks we had to complete, which a lot of were reading comprehension heavy, and if we didn’t complete them in time, we had to spend our recess finishing it. Needless to say, I never finished it on time and always missed recess, which communicated to all the other kids that I was stupid. I felt stupid.

Enter Harry Potter. My classmates and friends all fell in love with the first book. I tried to read it because I didn’t want to be the only kid who didn’t get to be a part of it, but it was just too hard for me at the time. Simple as that. But I felt left out, so I cried about it to my mom, and she assured me that it was just going to be popular for a little while and then everyone else will move onto something new and forget about it. Of course, they didn’t move onto something new.

Everyone knew why I hadn’t read the books. Some were nice enough to pretend to believe me when I said that I just wasn’t into those kinds of books. Others called me stupid to my face. My own sister called me stupid right to my face. Kids who were in a similar boat to me had their parents read the book to them and talk it out, but my parents both worked late and were too exhausted at the end of the day to read to me. I didn’t and don’t hold that against them, but I do envy when people talk about how their mom would read them a chapter every night. I would have loved that.

So, this became a thing. Even when I got my reading comprehension skills up to my grade level, I was still too scared and embarrassed to pick up Harry Potter. What if I still couldn’t get it? What if missed important sections and bombed the AR test? What if, in sixth grade, I was still too stupid to read something half of my third grade class could read without problem? The idea of Harry Potter was too closely related to being told that I was stupid and I couldn’t get past it.

It’s weird growing up in the Harry Potter generation but not understanding Harry Potter. It’s this whole universe that everyone else got to experience, and you just kind of watched them experience it from afar, not understanding a thing about it. I never whined about people talking about the books and getting excited about them just because I had this fear-driven reason for not reading it, and I never attacked the books. Yet when I talked about this in college everyone treated me not reading it like a personal attack, like how dare I have not read this book when it’s the book that is all of their favorite book from childhood? At eighteen, I became that bitch who hates Harry Potter according to literally anyone I talked to about this. In reality, I was a girl who spent her whole childhood feeling excluded but couldn’t do a thing to fix it. Even if I read it now, it would probably be too late. I missed my window to be a part of this world all because I was stupid.

Contrary to what my mother told me, no one forgot about Harry Potter. It’s everywhere. And even when I thought it was finally done when the last movie came out, there were more books and more movies? And I’ll be fine, then I’ll see a commercial for it at the theater and suddenly be transported to that sleepover where my friends all wanted to watch Prisoner of Azkaban and laughed at me every time I asked a question about what was happening. Suddenly, I’m depressed even though I got myself a large popcorn and wore cute boots that day and should have been elated because that’s all it takes to make me happy. Popcorn and cute boots.

So, even as an adult, there are all these references that I vaguely understand but don’t really, and no one can fathom the concept of me, a 25-year-old woman, never reading Harry Potter. Even in fanfiction, I’ll get other writers asking to run something by me, and it turns out to be a Hogwarts AU, and when I tell them I never read those books, a complete stranger on the internet asks me what the fuck is wrong with me. I get questions like: Did you even have a childhood? What did you read? Were your parents weirdly religious so they stopped you from reading it? How could someone not read Harry Potter????

And then, I get people telling me “God, that must have been miserable” and other things to that effect. I don’t know how to tell them that the only thing that made me miserable was how everyone treated me. And continue to treat me, if I’m being honest.

Now, I’ve listened to the first three chapters while driving to work this week, and I like it. I’m not going to lie, though. I cried last night when I got home. I kept thinking about Harry and how I would have identified with him all those years ago. I could have used Harry back then. Too bad I had been bullied to the point where I was too scared of feeling stupid to try to read it.

(And I know I wasn’t stupid. I was really fucking smart. No one took the time to tell me that, though. Had to figure that one out all on my own. Just like I figured out reading all on my own (with the help of a Mr. Lemony Snicket, of course))

#asks #Alex reads Harry Potter for the first time

18 notes · View notes

darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

Note

I’m scared about what you’re gonna come up with these, but still, I can’t resist 😜 So 6, 17, 48 please

I’d say don’t be scared but you’re probably right to be. XD There is angst as usual but happy endings, too, so it’s not so bad, I guess.

Number 6 is at the bottom because it became the longest and I want to use a cut.

This may or may not be part of the Fake Dating AU verse. But if it is, it would fit somewhere after chapter 14. (Just for future reference.)

17 – audience

The sound of the piano drew her out of her shelter among the books just like he’d hoped it would. She’d retreated to the section of the living room that was turned into a library to find some peace and quiet after their loud fight. It was ironic, really, how much he’d said because he didn’t want to talk. But it was so hard to express his emotions in words when all his life he’d been taught not to feel so he’d switched to notes.

He knew she could read them but it didn’t scare him like it did when it was his mothers listening to him play. She wasn’t going to reprimand him if she didn’t hear what she wanted to. She just wanted him to talk to her and that made her the only audience he’d ever wished for. Because she would do her best to understand and accept his feelings and guide him through them.

So he let the piano wail and scream when he couldn’t, poured out all the pain he’d been in even before their fight–and that had only made things worse–and had the music apologize to her for the hurt he’d caused her. And it seemed to work, for her expression softened as she listened and a tear fell from her eye now even if it had been glistening there way back during their argument.

It prompted him to leave the keys alone and pull her close, drawing her into a hug, his fingers moving over her cheek now to wipe away the tear-stain. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, the words quiet with fear but not for himself. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix what he’d broken.

“And I didn’t mean to push you so hard,” she said, her voice trembling like it never did, hurting him with her pain. “I just wanted you to tell me what’s wrong, let me in and allow me to help you,” she said, her voice breaking as she clutched weakly at the collar of his shirt.

“And I should’ve let you but I’m not used to… someone caring about me,” he was quick to say before she could keep blaming herself. It wasn’t her fault he’d been raised to run from genuine contact and made to fear getting close to people. “I promise I will do better,” he stroked her cheek, letting the words seep into her skin and help her calm down.

“And I promise to be more patient,” she said as she gifted him with a timid smile that had him leaning in to capture her lips. They were irresistible to him as they always voiced the sweetest of things and he wished to never stop hearing them. They were music to his ears and he was her willing audience.

We had a mild storm the other night and this was born.

48 – lucky

The thunder rumbled outside and it was only the warmth of Griffin’s body pressed against him that helped him keep his heartbeat steady. He tried to focus on her quiet breaths–they sounded like safety–and not on Tharma’s cackling that he could hear in his mind. Or the shiver that ran down his spine at the sound of the–undoubtedly cold–rain that was pouring outside.

“This is so soothing,” Griffin spoke and he could hear the content in her voice even if he couldn’t see it on her face thanks to the way her head was laid down on his chest.

“What, the storm?” he asked incredulously, the words slipping from his mouth before he could quite get his shock under control.

“Yes,” Griffin said, her voice firm and carrying hints of excitement. “It’s perfect for falling asleep to the soft sound of the falling raindrops.” All he could hear was the aggressive downpour and the violent wind. That was of course when there weren’t deafening thunders that called loudly to his nightmares. “And the knowledge that we’re in here where it’s warm and dry, and… cuddly,” he heard the mirth in her voice, “while the storm is raging outside,” well, she got that right, “is so cozy.” She pressed herself harder into him as if to convince him in the truth of her argument.

“I wouldn’t use that word,” he said as he chuckled forcedly, trying to keep the mood light and not drag her into the hurricane in his own mind. “There’s too much thunders and howling wind for it to be peaceful,” he said, hating himself for the quietness of the words since he couldn’t make them louder. And he was afraid to. Afraid that the lightnings would be turned on him if he voiced his complaints.

Griffin moved to look at him and he sighed before meeting her gaze rather reluctantly. “I’m here and I love you,” she said before pressing her lips against his neck and making her way upwards, the softness of her kisses tickling in a way that chased away the unpleasant shivers to replace them with their opposites. “And I’m ready to whisper it to you until it drowns out everything else in your mind,” her hot breath hit his ear, caressing his skin with her promise.

He pulled her closer, entirely on top of him so that he could feel all of her skin. “I’m lucky to have you,” he said as she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck. His hands tangled in her hair and the softness of the purple tresses chased away the harshness of the memories of electricity coursing through his body and cold biting at his skin as cruel, vicious words rang in his ears.

Here’s an idea I’ve had since forever and I finally managed to get motivated enough to write it. It is an AU in which Faragonda has trouble using her powers and Griffin comes to the rescue.

6 – wings

“There’s no use,” Faragonda said as she plopped herself down on the grass after her latest failed attempt to summon her magic and complete the task of blasting the boulders at the clearing to pieces. “I will never get it.”

“Of course you will,” Griffin put a hand on her shoulder, her touch so impossibly gentle considering the enormous destructive power of her magic. Faragonda could still remember the tremendous wave of magic that had swept over her when she’d first met Griffin who’d stepped in to protect her from three other witches that were bullying her. She’d never felt such raw power before, not even from her own mother who was a fearsome witch infamous in countless realms. How she wished she’d inherited an ounce of that talent but her own powers were laughable at best and nonexistent at worst. She would’ve ended up badly injured if not for Griffin’s interference. “You just need more practice.” Griffin was so patient with her, as if she was special when it couldn’t be further from the truth. She never showed the temper Faragonda knew was lurking under the surface. She’d felt Griffin’s outrage feeding her powers and making her glow with a green magical aura that had scared off the other witches before she’d even unleashed her magic. But those strong negative feelings were nowhere to be seen in their interactions which only made Faragonda feel worse.

“More practice?” She chuckled bitterly. They’d been practicing for almost half a year now with Griffin guiding her calmly and with care only for her to fail again and again. “I’m just wasting your time.” She’d been thrilled when Griffin had agreed to help her. She’d been left in awe of her power and, later, of her comprehension of magic and she’d thought that maybe she’d finally learn. But it was rapidly becoming apparent that that would never happen.

Griffin studied her for a moment and it was the first time she was left unnerved by her gaze. If she agreed with her, there’d be no more reason for them to meet and… she’d lose her best friend. Her only friend. Every other witch inevitably started taunting her for her lack of powers. But even the fact that she’d be the family disappointment that was not talked about at social gatherings didn’t hurt as much as the thought of not seeing Griffin anymore.

“Okay,” Griffin said, making her freeze. “One more try and I won’t press anymore. If you can’t, you can’t and we both accept that,” she was talking as if Faragonda’s success was somehow her responsibility and impacted her directly, making failure her problem. But she’d already done more than anyone else ever had. She’d not only refused to give up on Faragonda, but she’d also encouraged her to keep trying. She’d been just about ready to admit defeat before Griffin had shown up but her lessons had kept her going for six more months despite the constant disappointment for both of them. Even if Griffin never showed any feelings of the sort to her. “But you have to promise me to give your everything, okay?” Griffin put both her hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes, her expression serious.

Faragonda didn’t want to fail her even more so she nodded, summoning all of her determination to see this last attempt through. More for Griffin rather than for herself.

Griffin smiled at her in a way that managed to give her strength and faith even when she knew she would fail and let go of her shoulders to offer her a hand.

Faragonda took it and found herself on her feet when Griffin pulled her up with so much force that she almost stumbled forward, leaving them close to each other, the space between them full of tension. She couldn’t tell if it was anticipation or something unspoken on Griffin’s end, but she knew what it was with her.

Griffin didn’t let go of her just yet. “I know you can do it,” she said, her voice quiet but not because she didn’t believe in what she said. She was a force of nature and she didn’t need to be loud to be heard. The quiet words contained much more confidence than anyone’s shouts could, much more confidence than Faragonda had. Yet, they didn’t make her afraid of not delivering and only helped her focus on the task at hand instead. Griffin was the only one who had that effect on her. Everyone else made her feel worthless. Including herself.

Griffin finally released her grip on her and made her way to the center of the clearing, reaching for her magic if the significant shift in the atmosphere was any indication. And the slight green glow surrounding her form. She was using a lot of power.

“What do I have to do?” Faragonda asked because she needed instructions. Not that they had ever helped her achieve anything but without any she didn’t stand a chance.

Griffin didn’t answer, focused on what she was doing. Her magic wrapped around the boulders around, making them glow as well, and forced them out of the ground before lifting them in the air. They kept raising higher and higher, driven by the spell Griffin was murmuring and channeling her magic into until they were so high Faragonda could barely see how they drifted closer together above Griffin’s head.

She turned her attention to Griffin, wondering what was going on in her mind. There was no way her weak magic could reach them there. Her blasts had barely made it to the stone surface when they’d been on the ground just a few feet away from her.

Griffin’s eyes opened and the magical aura disappeared as she put an end to her spell. But that meant-

Faragonda looked up to see the heavy boulders plummeting down towards Griffin. They would crush her and she didn’t seem to have any intention of moving, her eyes trained on Faragonda. She had to save her.

That remained the only thought in her head, her whole focus and energy going into it and before she knew it, Griffin was tightly clasped in her arms and they were at the other end of the clearing, the boulders smashing into the ground behind them.

Faragonda waited for the commotion to stop, clutching Griffin hard in her embrace with her eyes closed as she tried to shake off the terror of the experience. “Never again,” she hissed, her voice shaking, when everything calmed down around them and her heart was pounding a little slower, the feeling of it in her throat subsiding enough to let her use her voice more. “Do you hear me, never again,” she growled louder, pulling away to scowl at Griffin which would, hopefully, get her point across.

The expression she was met with was one of total fascination, though, and it took her a moment to process what could’ve evoked that response. But when she looked down, she found herself dressed in a sparkling dark blue skirt and top. It was a fairy outfit and it finally dawned on her that she’d just flown them out of harm’s way. Wings. She had wings. She had transformed and was a fairy.

Griffin reached to touch the shimmering things that were sprouting from her back and she felt the ghost of her touch in the nerves on her back. Apparently the wings were connected to them. “Well, that explains the lack of results,” Griffin said, her voice quiet again but this time it was full of respect. “Stained glass only reveals its beauty in the light.” The witch was in awe – something Faragonda had never seen from her and it helped loosen the grip that the fear had on her throat.

If she’d been the family disappointment before, now she didn’t have to worry about that because they would just outright cut off all contact with her. No fairy was welcome anywhere near them, much less allowed into the family. Her outfit was much brighter than her future.

Griffin seemed to sense her thoughts, for she summoned her magic again but before Faragonda could start worrying, a mirror appeared in front of her and the reflection of her wings captured her attention.

They were indeed the blue of stained glass and weren’t shimmering which left them clear and transparent, see-through just like glass. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she touched her hand to the cold surface of the mirror in an illogical attempt to touch them.

“And you’re beautiful, too,” Griffin’s reflection smiled at her. “A beautiful fairy. Just as I thought.” Her hand was on Faragonda’s shoulder again and if anything, the soothing effect of her touch had multiplied now that their friendship was silently confirmed.

Faragonda would ask how she’d come to the conclusion but she was too preoccupied with her overflowing emotions that were all over the place and the only thing that grounded her was the security of the knowledge that Griffin was still her best friend regardless of the fact that she was a fairy. She wasn’t angry at the revelation as Faragonda was sure her family would be. And that was all that mattered right now even if the future was more than scary. So she covered Griffin’s hand with hers, relieved to feel the warmth of her skin and her support because she was sure that that was all she had left besides her newly found winx.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #winx faragonda #griffin and faragonda #ask #her-majesty-wears-jeans #drabbles #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #heaven or hell

12 notes · View notes

mariamancini · 5 years

Text

i’ll stay by your side in the afterglow

yesterday, i went to sleep kinda mad at everything that happened yesterday so i decided to write my fix-fic, a way to show gilbert’s redemption because i love my boy and he deserves better. tell me what you think!

AO3

Anne hadn’t slept for two days now. And she had eaten half cookie since yesterday just because Marilla had been all over her forcing her to eat something. She couldn’t recall what happened these past days. Well, she didn’t even remember how she made to the Blythe’s. After all, her last vivid memory was her packing her stuff for the trip to Charlottetown.

She had been delaying her parting for weeks now, in hope of something to happen. What a fool she had been. To think he could actually care for her. What a ridiculous notion. Maybe if she hadn’t waited for so long to realize her feelings for him...Maybe he would accept her then. Maybe he would l-No sense. No point of thinking about that now and as she saw Bash arriving in a hurry to her doorstep, she immediately thought he was there to bring the good news. An engagement. She cursed herself again for not leaving sooner. She would have to go through the congratulations and wishes for a happy life when all she wanted was to be miserable on her own. What a cruel destiny! When she thought herself a heroine in a tragic romance, she never thought it would hurt this much to love and not to be loved. And now, to imagine him marrying someone else. She couldn’t bear it; she couldn’t stay here in Green Gables. She had to leave as soon as possible.

Her rapid thoughts were interrupted when she heard Marilla cry in agony. She ran down the stairs and then in a heartbeat, the words Gilbert and very sick were heard and then in the next, she was out of the door without looking back. All she could think was that he was unwell, and he needed her. Even if she was there, his fiancé, she would be there too because he was her friend. He was the love of her life even if she wasn’t his.

That night had been the worst of her life. She had gone through hell between foster homes and the orphanage, but nothing could ever hurt this much. His cries for help, her name so often in his lips, wondering where she was while she said she would never leave but it was all in vain. He couldn't see her. He was desperate for a hand, for relief of his hallucinations. She tried hard not to cry, to be strong for him and whisper words of comfort, words of love. If only what she felt for him could save him, she would try anything.

So, she stayed at his bedside, reading him stories to calm him down, changing the wet towel on his forehead. Then the morning came and so did the silence. For a second, for a fraction in time, she didn’t dare to speak what she thought had happened. But then she saw his chest rise, his calm breathing filling the room. Only then she realized she had been holding her breath too.

Bash and Marilla didn’t leave their side, asking constantly for her to rest but she couldn’t. What if he needed her? No, she wouldn’t leave maybe if his fiancé would come. Bash only answered with the news that she had gone to Europe and no date to return. Could it be? If they were to be married, she wouldn’t leave like this. Oh, she wouldn’t dare to hope. Her heart was only starting to be happy now that he was getting better. The rest they would see, it didn’t matter at this moment.

In the fourth day, Gilbert Blythe opened his eyes. Anne had eaten soup that afternoon and slept a little bit near the window of his room. Her tiredness was winning her finally and now that he was showing so much improvement that even his doctor and professor was impressed, she had even dared to daydream a little, especially to try to understand what could she say to him when he was awake. The time had arrived.

‘Anne?’ A softly whisper woke up from her nap. She straightened herself up immediately, coming to his bedside.

‘Gilbert!’ She touched his forehead to find his fever gone, provoking a broad smile on her face. He was awake. He was alive. What happiness she had never felt before. To love him was enough, to see him happy and healthy: what a blessing. She couldn’t care for anything else. ‘How are you feeling? Do you want me to bring you something?’

‘I thought you were gone.’ There was hurt hidden in his sentence. Their last conversation hadn’t gone so well. Too many accusations and too little comprehension. She had said some things she hadn’t meant, and he hadn’t said the things he meant. What a couple of fools they were.

‘I’m here now and I’m not leaving until you’re better, Gilbert Blythe.’ She smacked him (softly) in the arm making him chuckle a bit. ‘That is for scaring the hell out of me. You have no business on dying, do you hear me?’

‘Yes, my lady.’

Their bantering was interrupted by Bash storming throw the door as it always was. Anne went again to the window, hiding the tears which were falling freely in her cheeks. She thanked whoever was above protecting them for bringing him back to his family.

The days passed without any alarmism. Gilbert grew stronger and stronger and that night he ate his dinner by himself. Anne had finished reading him one of her novels. She especially chose the most romantic ones because she knew how foolish he thought of them. He liked to point every defect and conflict the characters could avoid with a little talk between them. Oh, what a fool he was. If he followed his own advice, they wouldn’t be here walking on eggshells and talking about book characters instead of their own lives. She closed the book and started to pack her stuff to go back to Green Gables where Marilla awaited her.

‘Anne...I’m sorry. For everything.’ She looked at him and only saw sorrow in his eyes.

‘What do you mean? There’s nothing to be sorry about.’ She was trying to pretend she didn’t know what he referred to. Maybe to their last argument but these things didn’t matter anymore. All it mattered is that he was alive.

‘I should’ve known better. You were right. I wasn’t in love with Winifred.’ Anne didn’t want to know how her face looked at her moment. Probably a mess but certainly every shade of red. She could feel her heartbeats in every part of her skin. He didn’t love her. He didn’t. She could cry of happiness at that moment, but she didn’t dare.

‘I’m glad...I’m glad you understood what was better for you.’ She said politely as if she was talking to a neighbour she hadn’t seen in a very long time and not to the man she had dreamed about for years and years.

‘No, you don’t understand. I knew it. Even at the fair, how stupid I was! To believe myself in love with her.’ Anne shivered at his words as the unpleasant memory came and went. It was that day she found out her feelings for him and it was that day she found out he had the same feelings for another girl. How much she had cried, how much she regretted.

‘Anne, please look at me.’ She did as she was told. ‘I hope you can forgive me. Even if it’s not today or tomorrow. One day perhaps.’

‘There is nothing to forgive, Gil.’ He smiled as he heard that familiar name coming through her lips. There was a silence between them, but it was no longer uncomfortable. It was longing. Something unresolved yes but Anne could see the bend in the road already and oh, how much good things she hoped it would bring to them, to their friendship.

‘Surely, Anne-girl, you must know...’ He paused as he intertwined his hand on hers, kissing it tenderly. ‘There couldn’t be anyone for me but you.’

Anne’s free hand came immediately to her mouth to hide her sob. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Gilbert Blythe in love with her? It couldn’t be. She must be dreaming.

‘What do you mean, Gilbert?’

‘What I mean is that I love you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I always have. I’m sorry I made you doubt it even for a second.’

There was the moment Anne really looked at him. And there it was, the Gilbert she had hated and loved and hated and loved again. The beautiful chin she started to find charming a few years ago. Those eyes with beautiful shades of green and brown and every colour you could find in the woods that surrounded them. They were full of tenderness, kindness, love. It was always there even when she pretended she was going insane because no way could he feel the same as she did and still be with someone else. She wasn’t wrong, he was her only true love. The instant their lips met, insecure at first but it didn’t take them long to find that was how it felt coming home at least, she knew. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had Gilbert Blythe. She had become an ‘us’ finally.

#shirbert #gilbert blythe #anne shirley #awae spoilers #shirbert ff #my ff #all my love to this fandom #anne with an e

12 notes · View notes

hope-for-olicity · 5 years

Link

I have been thinking, like so many people this week, about rage. Who I’m mad at, what that anger’s good for, how what makes me maddest is the way the madness has long gone unrespected, even by those who have relied on it for their gains.

For as long as I have been a cogent adult, and actually before that, I have watched people devote their lives, their furious energies, to fighting against the steady, merciless, punitive erosion of reproductive rights. And I have watched as politicians — not just on the right, but members of my own party — and the writers and pundits who cover them, treat reproductive rights and justice advocates as if they were fantasists enacting dystopian fiction.

This week, the most aggressive abortion bans since Roe v. Wade swept through states, explicitly designed to challenge and ultimately reverse Roe at the Supreme Court level. With them has come the dawning of a broad realization — a clear, bright, detailed vision of what’s at stake, and what’s ahead. (If not, yet, full comprehension of the harm that has already been done).

As it comes into view, I am of course livid at the Republican Party that has been working toward this for decades. These right-wing ghouls — who fulminate idiotically about how women could still be allowed to get abortions before they know they are pregnant (Alabama’s Clyde Chambliss) or try to legislate the medically impossible removal of ectopic pregnancy and reimplantation into the uterus (Ohio’s John Becker) — are the stuff of unimaginably gothic horror. Ever since Roe was decided in 1973, conservatives have been laboring to roll back abortion access, with absolutely zero knowlege of or interest in how reproduction works. And all the while, those who have been trying to sound the alarm have been shooed off as silly hysterics.

Which is why I am almost as mad at many on the left, theoretically on the side of reproductive rights and justice, who have refused, somehow, to see this coming or act aggressively to forestall it. I have no small amount of rage stored for those in the Democratic Party who have relied on the engaged fury of voters committed to reproductive autonomy to elect them, at the same time that they have treated the efforts of activists trying to stave off this future as inconvenient irritants.

This includes, of course, the Democrats (notably Joe Biden) who long supported the Hyde Amendment, the legislative rider that has barred the use of federal insurance programs from paying for abortion, making reproductive health care inaccessible to poor women since 1976. During health-care reform, Barack Obama referred to Hyde as a “tradition” and questions of abortion access as “a distraction.” I’ve spent my life listening to Democrats call abortion a niche issue — and worse, one that is somehow repellent to voters, even though support for Roe is in fact among the most broadly popular positions of the Democratic Party; seven in ten Americans want abortion to remain legal, even in conservative states.

You can try to tell these Democrats this — lots of people have been trying to tell them for a while now — but it won’t matter; they will only explain to you (a furious person) that they (calm, wise, knowledgeable about politics) understand that we need a big tent and can’t have a litmus test and please be reasonable: we shouldn’t shut anyone out because of a difference on one issue. (That one issue that we shouldn’t shut people out because of is always abortion). Every single time Democrats come up with a new strategy to win purple and red areas, it is the same strategy: hey, let’s jettison abortion! (If you object to this, you will be told you are standing in the way of the greater progressive project).

I grew up in Pennsylvania, governed by anti-abortion Democrat Bob Casey Sr.; his son Bob Jr. is Pennsylvania’s senior senator now, and though he’s getting better on abortion, Jr. voted, in 2015 and 2018, for 20-week abortion bans. Maybe my rage stems from being raised with this particularly grim perspective on Democratic politics: dynasties of white men united in their dedication to restricting women’s bodily autonomy, but they’re Democrats so who else are you going to vote for? Which reminds me of Dan Lipinski, the virulently anti-abortion Democratic congressman — whose anti-abortion dad held his seat before him. The current DCCC leader, Cheri Bustos, is holding a big-dollar fundraiser for Lipinski’s reelection campaign, even though it’s 2019 and abortion is being banned and providers threatened with more jail time than rapists and there is someone else to vote for: Lipinski is being challenged in a primary by pro-choice progressive Democrat Marie Newman. And still, Bustos, a powerful woman and Democratic leader, is helping anti-choice Lipinski keep his seat for an eighth term. So I’ve been thinking about that part of my anger too.

Also about how, for years, I’ve listened to Democratic politicians distance themselves from abortion by calling it tragic and insisting it should be rare, instead of simply acknowledging it to be a crucial, legal cornerstone of comprehensive health care for women, people with uteruses, and their families. I have seethed as generations of Democrats have argued that if we could just get past abortion and focus instead on economic issues, we’d be better off. They never seem to get that abortion is an economic issue, and that what they think of as economic issues — from wages and health care to housing and education policy — are at the very heart of the reproductive justice movement, which understands access to abortion to be one (pivotal!) part of a far broader set of circumstances that determine if, when, under what circumstances, and with what resources human beings might have and raise children.

And no, of course it’s not just Democrats I’m mad at. It’s the pundits who approach abortion law as armchair coaches. I can’t do better in my fury on this front than the legal writer Scott Lemieux, who in 2007 wrote ablistering rundown of all the legal and political wags, including Ben Wittes and Jeffrey Rosen and Richard Cohen and William Saletan, then making arguments, some too cute by half, about how Roe was ultimately bad for abortion rights and for Democrats. Some like to cite an oft-distorted opinion put forth by Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who has said that she wished the basis on which Roe was decided had included a more robust defense of women’s equality. Retroactive strategic chin-stroking about Roe is mostly moot, given the decades of intervening cases and that the fight against abortion is not about process but about the conviction that women should not control their own reproduction. It is also true that Ginsburg has been doing the work of aggressively defending reproductive rights for decades, while these pundits have treated them as a parlor game. As Lemieux put it then, it was unsurprising, “given the extent to which affluent men safely ensconced in liberal urban centers dominate the liberal pundit class,” that the arguments put forth, “greatly understate or ignore the stark class and geographic inequites in abortion access that would inevitably manifest themselves in a post-Roe world.”

Or, for that matter, that had already manifested themselves in a Roe world.

Because long before these new bans — which will meet years of legal challenge before they are enacted — abortion had grown ever less accessible to segments of America, though not the segments that the affluent men (and women) who write about and practice politics tend to emerge from. But yes, thanks to Hyde and the TRAP laws and the closed clinics and the long travel distances and paucity of providers and the economically untenable waiting periods, legions of women have already suffered, died, had children against their will, while columnists and political consultants have bantered about the necessity of Roe, and litmus tests and big tents. In vast portions of this country, Roe might as well not exist already.

And still those who are mad about, have been driven mad by, these injustices have been told that their fury is baseless, fictional, made of chewing gum and recycled copies of Our Bodies Ourselves. Last summer, the day before Anthony Kennedy announced his resignation from the Supreme Court, CNN host Brian Stelter tweeted, in response to a liberal activist, “We are not ‘a few steps from The Handmaids’ Tale.’ I don’t think this kind of fear-mongering helps anybody.” When protesters shouted at Brett Kavanaugh’s confirmation hearings a few weeks later, knowing full well what was about to happen and what it portended for Roe, Senator Ben Sasse condescended and lied to them, claiming that there have been “screaming protesters saying ‘women are going to die’ at every hearing for decades” and suggesting that this response was a form of “hysteria.”

It was the kind of dishonesty — issued from on high, from one of those Republicans who has inexplicably earned a reputation for being “reasonable” and “smart,” and who has enormous power over our future — that makes you want to pull the hair from your head and go screaming through the streets except someone would just tell you you were being hysterical.

And so here we are, the thing is happening and no one can pretend otherwise; it is not a game or a drill and those for whom the consequences — long real for millions whose warnings and peril have gone unheeded — are only now coming into focus want to know: what can be done?

First, never again let anyone tell you that the fury or determination to fight on this account is invalid, inappropriate, or inconvenient to a broader message. Consider that this is also what women and marginalized people are told all the time about their anger in general: that they should not express it, not let it out, because to give voice to their rage will distract from their aims, undermine them; that it will ultimately be bad for them. This messaging is strategic. It is designed to get angry people to keep their mouths shut. Because if they are successfully stifled, they will remain at the margins, isolated, alone in their fury. It is only if they start letting it out and acting on it and working in tandem with others who share their outrage that they might begin to form networks, coalitions, the building blocks of movements; it is when the anger is let loose that the organizing happens in earnest.

Second, seek the organizing that is already underway. In the days since this new round of state abortion bans have begun to pass and make headlines, secret Facebook groups have begun to form, in which freshly furious women have begun to talk of forming networks that would help patients evade barriers to access. Yet these organizations already exist, are founded and run by women of color, have long been transporting those in need of reproductive care to the facilities where they can get it; they are woefully underfunded. The trick is not to start something new, but to join forces with those who have long been angry about reproductive injustice.

“Abortion funds have been sounding the alarm for decades,” said Yamani Hernandez, who runs the National Network or Abortion Funds, which includes 76 local funds in 41 states, each of them helping women who face barriers getting the abortion care they need, offering money, transportation, housing, and help with logistics. Only 29 of the funds have paid staff; the rest are volunteer-run and led with average budget sizes of $75,000, according to Hernandez, who said that in 2017, 150,000 people called abortion funds for help — a number up from 100,000 in 2015, thanks to the barrage of restrictions that have made it so much harder for so many more people. With just $4 million to work with, the funds were able to help 29,000 of them last year: giving abortion funds money and time will directly help people who need it. Distinguishing the work of abortion funds from the policy fights in state houses and at the capitols, Hernandez said, “whatever happens in Washington, and changes in the future, women need to get care today.”

And whatever comes next, she said, it’s the people who have been doing this work for years who are likely to be best prepared to deal with the harm inflicted, which is a good place for the newly enraged to start. “If and when Roe is abolished,” said Hernandez, “the people who are going to be getting people to the care they need are those who have largely been navigating this already and are already well suited for the logistical challenges.”

The fights on the ground might be the most current and urgent in human terms, but there is also energy to be put into policy fights. In 2015, California Congresswoman Barbara Lee authored the EACH Woman Act, the first serious congressional challenge to the Hyde Amendment, which came after years of agitation and activism, especially by All Above All, a grassroots organization led by women of color and determined to make abortion accessible to everyone. Those who are looking for policy fights to lean into can call and write your representatives and candidates and demand that they support the EACH Woman Act.

Rage works. It takes time and numbers and a willingness to express it, but it is among the most reliable catalysts of social and political change. That’s the story of how grassroots activism can compel Barbara Lee to compel her caucus to take on Hyde. Her willingness to tackle it, and the righteous outrage of those who are driven to end the harm it does to poor women and women of color, in turn helped to compel Hillary Clinton to come out against Hyde in her 2016 primary campaign; opposition to Hyde is now — for the first time since it was passed in 1976 — a part of the Democratic Party’s platform.

In these past two years, fury at a Trump administration and at the Republican Party has driven electoral activism. And at the end of 2018, the Guttmacher Institute reported that 2018 was the first year since at least 2000 in which the number of state policies enacted to expand or protectabortion rights and access, and contraceptive access, outnumbered the number of state restrictions. Why? Because growing realization of what was at stake — and resulting anger and activism, pressure applied to state legislatures — led representatives to act.

Of course: vote.

Vote, as they say, as if your life depended on it, because it does, but more importantly: other people’s lives depend on it. And between voting, consider where to aim your anger in ways that will influence election outcomes: educate yourself about local races and policy proposals, as well as the history of the reproductive rights and reproductive-justice movements. Get engaged not just on a presidential level — please God, not just at a presidential level — but with the fights for state legislative power, in congressional and senate elections, all of which shape abortion policy and the judiciary, and the voting rights on which every other kind of freedom hinges. Knock doors, register voters, give to and volunteer with the organizations that are working to fightvoter suppression and redistricting and expand the electorate; as well as to those recruiting and training progressive candidates, especially women and women of color, especially young and first-time candidates, to run for elected office.

You can also protest, go to rallies. Join a local political group where your rage will likely be shared with others.

Above all, do not let defeat or despair take you, and do not let anyone tell you that your anger is misplaced or silly or in vain, or that it is anything other than urgent and motivating. It may be terrifying — it is terrifying. But this — the fury and the fight it must fuel — is going to last the rest of our lives and we must get comfortable using our rage as central to the work ahead.

#abortion rights #politics #power #the body politic #women #reproductive rights

5 notes · View notes

shewantsthed-ana · 5 years

Text

Limetown Lineage Theories

The following is a comprehensive theory on the lineage of two of the most important characters in the podcast Limetown, Lia Haddock and Sylvia. I am not known for being brief or succinct, so if you would prefer a TLDR, one will be included at the bottom of this post. Otherwise, be prepared to do some reading. Please stay with us.

Emil is actually Lia’s father

This is by no means a ground-breaking thought, but I wanted to compile all the information I could find to support this theory in one place. In addition, it helps to support my other claim, which is a little harder to swallow. My evidence for this theory is as follows.

Lia’s father is not in the picture

As far as I know, we’ve never had any mention of Lia’s father in the series besides the fact that he is Emil’s brother. He is never even given a name. He is not mentioned to be in any of the pictures in Lia’s house. Lia does not attempt to contact him when she knows her family is being targeted. We know for a fact that he does not live with Lia’s mother based on the threatening call Lia receives from her mother’s house. To begin with, Lia says “my mom is calling”, but we know that the call is from a landline based on her mother saying the phone was left off the hook. This would be coming from her mother’s house, but Lia is confident that no other person would be calling from that number other than her mother, implying her mother lives alone with no husband or other children. When the phone is left off the hook and Lia is trying to get her mother’s attention, she only yells out her mother’s name. If Lia was just trying to get anyone to pick up the phone, would she not yell out other names to try to get their attention? When Lia tells her mother to get out of the house, she only gives very specific directions that are only for one person. At one point her mother says “Where are we supposed to go?” but I believe this is a red herring, possibly referring to a dog or other pet. Otherwise Lia would have given different instructions, “you and dad have to pack a bag”, “take ___ out of school”, etc. And of course, the most helpful evidence is from S2E1, where we are told that Emil has no one else he’s close to besides Lia’s mom that isn’t dead or missing. Clearly if Lia’s dad was in the picture, as Emil’s brother, he certainly would have qualified to be questioned as well.

Emil’s connection to Lia

Emil has a much stronger connection to Lia than is warranted by her simply being his niece that he hasn’t seen in probably 20 years. Why would she be the only “apple of his eye”, whom he clearly discussed often enough that other people knew he referred to her this way? In fact, immediately after Lenore refers to Lia as such, she launches into the story about how she always wanted children and her ex-husband had daughters with someone else. “I see pictures and… can’t help but feel some connection,” she laments. “Some part of me, some memory. The dream could be mine. Emil… related to that.” Does it make sense for Emil to relate to this story because he has a distant niece he’s spent very little time with? No! Does it make sense he feels this way because she is actually his daughter, because he does have pictures of her as mentioned by Lia, because they have a connection through their gift (more on that later)? Yes. There are several other small details that, on their own, don’t inherently prove this theory but do support the other evidence in this claim. The “I have heard the future” pin, something given to Lia to remember her father. The spelling of Lia itself, which others have suggested could be a shortened version of Emilia. Sure, her parents could have named her after her father’s brother, but again, it is more likely the name would be connected to her parents, specifically if they knew he would not be able to be a big part of her life (more on that later as well). Looking deeper into their names, Emil is a name that means excellent, and is the masculine form of Emily, which comes from, wait for it, Aemilia. Again, nothing definitive, but it shows a strong connection between the two.

Lia also has the gift

Again, this should surprise no one. But it does support the theory that she has a very strong connection to Emil that I believe would make the most sense if he was her father. All of the mentions of “you’re part of this”, “you’re not a mistake”, “we all have a part to play and this is yours”, everyone knows that Lia is deeply related to this project and that connection has to be deeper than her uncle simply being involved. I’ve seen many great observations from others indicating that Lia has the gift. After Lia is threatened in her motel room, the Reverend has an interesting perspective on it. “I bet you didn't know you had it in ya to back him down like that, huh? [exhales] Oh, my. Of course not. How could ya?” He claims she backed the threat down herself, not that she stood up to him, or that he backed down. She did something to influence him backing down and leaving. The follow-up is the Reverend realizing no, of course she couldn’t have known that she could do that. The Reverend knows Lia has the gift, she does not. Others have suggested that the reason Lia cried after speaking with him was because she knew, from some corner of her gift that she did not understand, that he was going to be dead soon. After Winona is influenced by the tech/gift to go to Sylvia she says “I understand. You have what you need to understand…I’m sure”. Her “understanding” is acknowledging the connection between brains as she reaches this understanding after Emil calms her down. Winona is sure that Lia also has the ability to make these connections. Winona, who is unsure of so much, is sure of this. When Lia is kidnapped in the season finale, she suddenly stops yelling and Lenore says “You can feel him, can’t you?” An overwhelming association is made in this series between use of the gift/tech and a sense of calm. Lenore sees that Lia has stopped yelling, Emil has therefore made his connection. Bouncing off of that, another potential explanation for the name Lia is that its origin means “relaxed”, again relating to the tech. Another large indication of her gift is her mother’s response to Lia’s panicky phone call, “it’s happening, isn’t it?” Lia’s mother knows Lia is connected to Limetown strongly, that there is danger present, and that Lia’s involvement is inevitable. This response makes no sense if Lia just happens to be following the story because he uncle is involved. Her mother is tuned into some secret which, again, makes more sense that she would be privy to this information if Emil was her husband, not brother-in-law. There are other details that support this point without confirming it, such as Lia always feeling a strong connection to this story without knowing why and her need to find the pin despite not knowing what she’s looking for. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, why on earth haven’t the Hummingbirds killed her already? Sure, they are clearly using her to get to Emil in S2E1. But why didn’t they get rid of her as soon as she talked to Winona? When it was clear that others would be contacted and information would continue to come out? Because they know that she also has the potential to be an extremely valuable asset, especially since Emil has slipped away, because she also contains the gift.

How did Lia and Emil get separated?

I don’t have enough information to truly answer this question, but there are some possibilities I’ve considered. I’ve complied them into one theory, though I don’t have strong evidence that the entire thing is true, only that some of the elements in this story would make sense with what we’ve been presented. Emil’s brother passed away when they were going to start working on Limetown. Lenore mentions that Oscar and Emil worked together for a few years before everything got set up, so this would be about 15 years ago, when Lia was probably younger than 10. Perhaps Emil’s brother also contained the gift and was maybe even an early casualty of early Limetown experiments. Perhaps Lia was starting to show evidence of possessing the gift, and it was probably strongest around Emil. So Emil and Lia’s mother decided it was best for her to be apart from Emil, maybe seeing how the gift could be dangerous because of the death of Lia’s real uncle. So Emil decides to adopt his brother’s personality and fake his own death instead in order to gain an understanding of his gift so that he may reconnect with his daughter.

But hold on a second….

Can’t this could be true while Lia is still Emil’s niece? Sure, and would explain what happened with Lia’s father. They would both have had the gift and that could explain why the father is not in the picture, either being killed or killing himself in another conspiracy. But I believe the strength of Emil and Lia’s connection, from the “apple of his eye” to Lenore’s story about children to the names all point to a parental connection.

Why would Emil leave his family if he cared for them so much? He may have seen a greater duty to help society through the research. Maybe he knew it was dangerous, based on an experience with his brother or connections with Lia. Or maybe Lia’s mom wanted him out of the picture. Lots of possibilities, no answers.

Sylvia is Oscar Totem’s daughter

I know, I know. But I truly believe this is correct, even stronger than I believe Lia and Emil’s relationship.

Oscar is Winona’s husband

There is an incredible amount of evidence to support this throughout the series. First of all, Winona never mentions her husband by name, only as “the man”, “my husband”, “the man who lived in my house”. This opens him up to be anyone. Winona has a great aversion to discussing Oscar at all in her interview. When Winona mentions that “we’ve all got a role to play”, she says “that was the slogan”, when most others referred to Oscar saying this line. Winona also gets extremely upset twice during her conversation with Lia, once throwing a plate, and both are after direct questions about Oscar. The first time Winona snaps is after this very carefully worded line of questioning by Lia: “Was that your husband? Or was it The Man That You Were All There For? Was that man Oscar Totem?” Lia thinks she asking if Oscar Totem was The Man That You Were All There For, but listening closely, she is inadvertently asking if Oscar Totem is Winona’s husband, which results in Winona’s outburst. Winona also drops several smaller hints about her connection with Oscar. “I was there because of the man”, implying her husband was important in the town. She refers to Emil as “the one my husband and his friends are all here for”, suggesting her husband was directly related to the research team by referring to him and his friends as opposed to everyone. Lia asks if Winona can tell her about her husband’s work, she says no. Winona says her work was demeaning, but will not say why or what her previous work was. Is this because she was also in the neuroscience field, and revealing this information would connect her and Oscar? Not unlike Deirdre and Max’s meeting through college, would revealing her background reveal a connection with Oscar? In addition, why is she using a fake name at all? Is it because Oscar’s wife was likely listed in the Limetown manifesto? When Winona tells her husband what she’s seen at the lab, he immediately gets scared and says she will be reassigned to another job. Who else would be privy to enough information to not only be aware of everything Winona was saying, but to know it was concerning that she was aware of it? Who else would be so involved in the research team, but still have enough influence over the town to be able to get her reassigned right away? Oscar Totem. Not to mention the fact that he of course had the greatest amount of access to the tech, which he could have installed in Winona in order to, as I refer to it, scramble her eggs. Winona often rubs the front of her head, despite all others having the implant put in above their ear. Did she get an early version of the tech, maybe to help her forget what she saw?

Sylvia is actually Lenore’s daughter

So I definitively believe that Oscar and Winona are married. However, I think there is a possibility that Sylvia is actually the daughter of Lenore. First of all, as others have mentioned, Winona never calls Sylvia her daughter. She refers to her as a little girl that she lived with. Even when Lia starts to ask about Sylvia, ostensibly inquiring as to whether Sylvia is Winona’s daughter, Winona cuts her off before Lia can say the word. It is mentioned by Lenore that she and Oscar Totem were “close”. An interesting choice of words that can certainly hold the connotation of lovers. Also, does Lenore seem to be the type to get close to many people, period? They must have had a strong connection. Perhaps Oscar got Lenore pregnant a few years before Limetown. This could give even more significance to Lenore’s speech about feeling a lost connection to a child that wasn’t hers. Maybe this is even another reason that Oscar scrambled Winona’s eggs, to try to get her to forget that her daughter wasn’t hers. If Sylvia is Lenore’s daughter, this would explain why they still have a connection now, 10 years later. It could partially explain Lenore’s message in the season 1 finale, “Sylvia, it’s time. They know”. She connected with her daughter post-Limetown and they have some hand in taking down the Hummingbirds. If Lenore had just saved Sylvia for no reason, why would she still be involved after all this time? And that last point is what I consider the most damning piece of evidence. Why on earth would Lenore save Sylvia? Lenore, the most calculating, objective, pragmatic character on the show. A true utilitarian. Why would she spare one person? Sylvia is not the only child in the town, evidenced by the presence of a school and the fact that the work day coordinated with school so that parents could walk their children home. Sure, maybe because she was “close” with Oscar, she would have sympathy for his kid. But is Limetown-era Lenore Dougal a person you associate with sympathy? No. And then why wouldn’t she save others, Winona for example? The only thing I could possibly believe that would cause Lenore to have a moment of weakness is that if it were her, albeit secret, child on the line.

Questions I still can’t answer

So clearly I have a lot of thoughts here. But with any good mystery, there are still several aspects of this story that I don’t have explanations for.

Why exactly did Emil leave his family if he is Lia’s father?

Why does Winona have memories of Limetown that would be the most prudent to erase if her memory is messed with on purpose? Seeing Emil, the fact that so many others are dead, etc.

Why did Emil save Winona?? I definitely believe it was Emil that sent Winona out of the gates, not Oscar. Winona says she doesn’t know why “he” saved her, if it was her husband, it would make sense. In addition, Oscar didn’t know that things were getting so bad before the Panic or he would have saved himself and his child. But when Emil does save her, why doesn’t he have her take Sylvia as well?

What is Emil’s connection to Sylvia, why does he send Winona to care for her? I don’t believe she is also his daughter. Lia is called THE apple of Emil’s eye, which I don’t think would be the case if he had another child. Who would the mother be? Lia would have remembered if she had a sibling considering she would have been about 8 when Sylvia was born. Is Winona’s code name a hint to her significance? Winona means “first born daughter”. Is this telling us that the most important parts of her story are her information on/connection to Sylvia? Then Sylvia definitely couldn’t be Emil’s first-born daughter as Lia is older.

How do so many (Winona, Reverend) know of Lia’s gift when she doesn’t?

Why was Winona able to just walk out and leave? What happens to her after that? She must have been relocated like the rest of the survivors, there’s no way the Hummingbirds would have just left a loose end like that. They must have found her and put her somewhere. But how did they know? Why did Emil send her out if she was just going to be found anyway? How does she KNOW that so many others are dead? What did Winona see that Emil needed her to see?

TLDR;

Emil is Lia’s father because of their deep connection and the fact that Lia has the gift. Sylvia is the daughter of Oscar Totem, whom is certainly Winona’s husband, and possibly Lenore Dougal, which resulted in Lenore sparing her after the Panic. There are still multiple questions to answer, but I believe these theories can provide a new way to experience the show.

#limetown #lia haddock #theory #limetown podcast #podcast #limetown theories #long post #sylvia #winona #emil #oscar totem

39 notes · View notes