#Remember the version of Eve that exists now is literally the best she's ever been

[theglizzardwizard]

Eve works so hard to keep the property value of Barnacle Boatyard low.

#Toontown corporate clash #Eve and her shitty little friends from school were out there jumping people in the street for beans #She was a fucking NIGHTMARE before she came out of the closet #Remember the version of Eve that exists now is literally the best she's ever been #This is as good as she gets #The old lady that lived in the house next to Eves family still hears the opening chords to the Bonecrusher beat every time she tries to sle

[qqueenofhades]

did you watch lucifer season six and what are your thoughts pls and ty

Ahaha. Yes. Yes I did watch it. Then I cried for a literal hour and attempted to compose myself, only to start crying again when I lay down and kept on thinking about it. Then I had more feelings. Then I slept like the dead due to emotional trauma. Then I reblogged gifsets and had More feelings. Then @buffaluff and @flynnanimal watched it and also required emotional support due to drowning in their own tears. So, uh... we're all fine here now. How are you?

My main takeaway from the final season was the sheer amount of love for the characters, story, and fans that you could feel shining through all the episodes, and which made SUCH a refreshing change. I had feelings in my tags the other day about how a show about the devil was constantly goofy, hopeful, loving, and uplifting, rather than all the grimdark nonsense they could have easily done with it. (As I said, just imagine it as written by the GOT idiots?? NO THANK YOU.) The writing really loved everyone and wanted to give them a proper ending and emotional journey, and it wanted to show the fans that they weren't stupid for having invested six seasons of effort and emotion into this, and just... that is so much rarer than it should be? Compare all the movies and TV shows that treat their fans like the enemy, that want to outsmart them at all costs even if it means changing major plot elements, that ferociously guard spoilers and think that "shock value" means good writing, by throwing hackneyed cliche upon cliche and making everything Depressing, and just... Lucifer had its hiccups and slow points and missteps, of course, but I am SO glad they didn't do that. The entire show consisted of Lucifer slowly but steadily progressing toward being a better man, despite mistakes and setbacks and sometimes a little too much will-they-won't-they. (Season 3 was the only one where I got bored and skipped over the filler episodes with Pierce/Lucifer/Chloe in order to get to the end).

That is an essentially simple premise, but they stuck to it, and they didn't try to create more drama by randomly wrecking what they had already established. I wrote a fic all the way back in mid-season 2 (In Nomine Patris) that ended up predicting quite a few of the future characters who had not yet appeared on the show at that time, including Eve, Michael, and Azrael, and several plot points, including the very major one of Lucifer returning to hell for the sake of his daughter with Chloe. And while this might mean that I am just that good at guessing TV shows (I would like to think this....) it also means that the writers set expectations, followed through on those expectations, and didn't suddenly derail everything or turn it totally on its head just for the sake of cheap shocks. As we can all attest, they certainly caused PLENTY of drama, anguish, pain, and suffering, but they did it in a way that remained faithful to the overall premises of the story and the characters, and wanted to see them become the best versions of themselves. I cried my eyes out at the end and then thought, "hey, I might want to watch the whole series again," which, if you ask me, is the mark of doing your job right. There have been so few TV endings recently where I didn't immediately swear off the whole thing or have to pretend that canon didn't exist, so yeah.

As I said, it was just refreshing to watch something that had that essential deep generosity at its core, where the message is that everyone is worthy of love if they make the hard and painful effort to change and become better, and that even if earthly things feel small next to all this messy celestial drama, they still matter, and that you are loved no matter what. I loved that Amenadiel became God and Lucifer returned to hell as a choice in order to help all the trapped souls be able to work through their guilt and go to heaven. There were obviously certain echoes of The Good Place in that ending; I don't know if it was something they had planned all along or if the success of TGP, another series asking deep questions about life, death, morality, and human nature within the framework of a goofy heaven-and-hell sitcom, influenced it, but either way, it worked so well. Even if it tore my heart out and stomped on it on the ground, it was fitting and oh so lovely to see Lucifer, once the most selfish being in the entire universe, following in Linda's footsteps and becoming selflessly dedicated to helping other people. Just. Chef's kiss.

And of course, Deckerstar. The Hades and Persephone vibes were IMMACULATE this season, and while it did take Lucifer and Chloe the best part of four seasons to get together, they never significantly backslid, never had third-party issues or cheap cheating storylines once they were officially a couple, and Tom Ellis and Lauren German REALLY killed it this season in particular. It was never easy for them and sometimes the drama went on a little too long over the course of said six seasons, but the love story was beautiful and incredibly meaningful and always true to the fact that the actors and characters and writers (not to mention the fans) all loved it so much. They were so much the emotional heart of this, and when they went to hell together in episode 6x03 (where they turned into cartoons because wHAT even IS this show), Joe Henderson said in an interview that this was to give the fans a view into Lucifer and Chloe's future (after) lives post-6x10, and to offer them a basis to write fanfiction. I mean... the showrunner saying to the fans "here, we love you, have something to write fic about!" is likewise pretty shockingly rare. It's again an example of how this show always audaciously poked fun at itself, never took itself TOO seriously, and was always welcoming its fans and the people who loved it to do so, rather than making them feel stupid or taking joy in wrecking beloved characters or plots.

Obviously, I loved Rory, the badass lesbian half-angel goth Deckerstar child straight out of My Immortal (seriously, she was SO edgy, it was amazing), because of the fact that Lucifer's entire arc was always about feeling abandoned by his father and that he was going to have to face it for himself. Dorky Devil Dad Lucifer trying his absolute HARDEST to bond with his daughter was simultaneously hilarious, adorable, and heart-wrenching, and yet again, the Growth. We all remember when he could barely tolerate Trixie touching him, and now we're here. Also, any variation whatsoever of "this is just a brief moment of time that we must be apart, love is eternal and stronger than death and we will never really leave each other" as a line is guaranteed to make me bawl my eyes out. So that was fun.

I got a big kick out of Ghost Dan running around and trying to get everyone to see him, and had feelings about seeing him in heaven with Charlotte and his beloved Pudding Pops at the end. I had feelings about how they handled Ella finding out the truth (or rather demanding to know why nobody had told her) and of course, I obviously loved Maze and Eve and their goth/femme wedding and the fact that they got a good three-season romantic arc (indeed, I wanted more of them). My god, Trixie is SO BIG, she used to be a tiny little nugget. I love that Linda was the moral and emotional rock all along, from the first episode to the very last, and that Amenadiel was Deeply Vindicated when Charlie's wings appeared at his first birthday party. I love how Lucifer in s6 is absolute thousands of light years from Lucifer in s1. And as ever, Chloe was Perfect. I am happy that I spent six seasons with these characters and saw them become better, and that I was never made to feel like an idiot for trusting the writers to end everything in a beautiful and emotional way. Because, well. They did. Sure, maybe I could go back and pick at a plotline here or a detail there, but I don't terribly feel the need to do so? It might not have been perfect, but it was perfect, and I am so grateful that it existed.

#lucifer #lucifer spoilers #deckerstar #anonymous #ask

[bigskydreaming]

Have you seen Linkara's review of The Dark Knight Returns? He goes into why the view of Robin as a soldier, popularized but by no means invented by Miller, is so dangerous.

I have not, but I need to refresh my memory before I go check it out because I’ll either agree with it or be infuriated by it and I can’t remember which just at the moment but would like to before I restart that argument ten years later.

LOL, so like, I knew Linkara yeeears and years ago. We were both regular posters on Gail Simone’s messageboard on CBR like fifteen years ago, maybe longer. Pretty sure we even met in person a couple times at Gail’s annual SDCC breakfast meetups, but not sure. I do know for sure though that he and I were both involved in a three way argument about this very topic with another guy.....I just can not remember if he was the one who agreed with me or the one we were both fighting with about it, LOL. I THINK we were in agreement as while I wasn’t like.....as pro-DC as most YABSers were given that it was Gail’s board and I mostly hung out at the X-boards and just swung by YABS once a week or so BECAUSE I couldn’t stand all the ass-kissing that went on at that board so that DC writers and artists would hang out and post regularly, LOL, like I’m pretty sure I remember Link as being one of the less....vehement of the pro-DC camp.

(Tbh, one of the biggest ways in which I disagreed with Gail on stuff is I UNDERSTOOD her feeling a need to be civil with other DC pros even if she didn’t like them personally, I just....couldn’t manage the same and didn’t feel any desire to try. Like for example, not sure how many people know who Ethan van Sciver is, but he’s a long time high profile DC artist, best known for his GL stuff.....but he used to hang around YABS pretty regularly. EvS is ALSO a haaaaaardcore conservative, Trumpian, and all around terrible person. And he always was.

Like he’d play it civil back then but his opinions were downright hateful on a variety of topics, particularly towards marginalized groups, but he was good at picking just the right moments to half-assedly walk something back the second he took something ‘too far’ - so like, the end result was he said it and everyone saw and remembered, but before anyone could react he’d drop the mea culpa card and be like oh I’m sorry I know that was out of line, I was just caught up in the moment and it’s all good cuz this is all friendly debate anyway right? We’re just talking here.

And he’d pull this crap all the time but because he was a DC pro, people would let him get away with it and warn people off coming down on him so he didn’t feel unwelcome at the board. Now the painfully ironic twist here is that shockingly, totally unexpectedly.....fast forward to about five or six years ago where good old Ethan burns a shit ton of bridges and decides well why not make things a dumpster fire for everyone in my vicinity....and he became the driving force behind a bunch of alt right comic book fans starting their own weak ass version of Gamergate, only called Comicsgate. It never was nearly as....big...as Gamergate was, but it was still ugly. And the thing is, Ethan sicced his sycophants on other industry pros he’d worked with over the years but always disagreed with on politics.....like really let the ugly fly....and most of these pros included Gail as well as a bunch of the other DC professionals from back in the YABS days.

Because thing was....that was literally WHY he’d hung out at YABS so much back then, despite being so far in disagreement with most of the progressive leaning board. He was always just interested in stirring shit up, he never actually had the slightest interest in debate or seeing the other side of anything....he just knew how to play the right cards to get the right people to come to his defense and cool things off rather than run him off, in the name of keeping things civil and such...all so he could start it all up again a couple weeks later.

And this is literally why that kind of thing doesn’t work for me at all. Because he wasn’t really that subtle even then, most people knew all along exactly what he was doing, and letting him get away with shit that would have gotten anyone else banned purely because he was a industry pro just meant that his opportunities to subject anyone in his vicinity to just vile, hateful shit ended up more protected than all the marginalized posters on that board who didn’t come to it to see his shit but had to constantly listen to it anyway because people were more interested in making excuses for him than making it comfortable for everyone else.

And in the end, he ended up turning on the very people who’d protected him from everyone else ripping into his hateful viewpoints with the directness they merited. Which just. Sigh. To me just smacks of a whole lot of unnecessary years spent putting up with his barely veiled bullshit until he didn’t bother even veiling it anymore....even though the reality is NOBODY was ever buying into his veil of it in the first place and we all knew what was right behind it all along. Anyway. Not that it matters LOL, but good old Eth, was one of the primary reasons I decided not to go into comics when I had a couple of opportunities come up, as I decided to focus my efforts on Hollywood at the time instead. Lmao, I figured if I was going to have to keep my mouth shut about coworkers whose opinions I vehemently disagreed with in the name of professionalism, I might as well focus on the profession that would pay me more money to keep that to myself. Look, at least capitalism is useful when ADHD and trying to pretend to be decisive about life choices.)

Long ramble nobody asked for aside, like I said, I can’t remember Link’s take on this particular topic but it’s likely the one I agreed with for the most part. My own take has always been that Miller sucks and if he said it chances are I said he was wrong because he is about everything and my religion is people saying so and by people I mean me. My religion’s also big on self-actualization. Not sure what else, I did just make it up and I think I’ll probably just stop there so I don’t accidentally make it a cult.

But yeah. I mean, maybe it’ll surprise people given how critical I am of the abusive elements of canon, but I’ve never applied the child endangerment/child soldier argument to sidekicks. It’s obviously not that they don’t get hurt in these stories and even traumatized, it’s not that they’re NOT in danger as kids....it’s just why I put such an emphasis on it being their choice to fight crime and be heroes and NOT something that Bruce or any other mentor or parent pushed them into.

Because this is one of the reasons why death of the author more often than not just doesn’t work for me. Authorial intent matters. Readers are always free to interpret a text however they want, regardless of authorial intent....but IF a writer has a specific intent behind a narrative choice, chances are most interpretations that refuse to align themselves with that viewpoint aren’t really all that RELEVANT to the story the writer was trying to tell in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong. Those other interpretations can still exist. They’re allowed to exist. People can abide by them all they want. But if someone’s takeaway from a story is a deliberate choice to read it entirely different from the story the writer intended it to be.....like, their interpretation is all well and good, but it’s not actually at all a RELEVANT commentary on or review of the story the writer was actually writing. They’re not actually saying the writer did a poor job of telling the story or was wrong in how they did it....because they’re not actually talking about the story the writer was actually telling.

Thus their commentary on it exists. But it’s just not that relevant. Because nothing in it even CAN offer an opinion on how else the writer could or should have written that story....because the story they ARE talking about isn’t the story the writer was even interested in writing.

Now, there are some times when authorial intent DOESNT matter. And when criticism of it is entirely fair and earned even if it’s of something the writer didn’t consciously or deliberately write into their story at all. But these things are almost ALWAYS unconscious. Unlike what I was just talking about, where the writer was very consciously writing the story a certain way for a reason, and thus people who aren’t interested in reading the story the way it was written to be read just can’t offer up a commentary that says anything useful or meaningful about the story that was actually written...the flip side of this is when the writer puts things they don’t intend into the text, but still are very much there all the same.

And this sort of thing applies to things like micro aggressions or racism, homophobia, sexism....things where a writer didn’t sit down intending to be offensive or alienate their readers but still put in things that they don’t think to view as offensive due to their own privilege and lack of experience EXPERIENCING the microaggressions that marginalized readers might be all TOO familiar with and thus can’t avoid reading into a passage where the writer might not have INTENDED harm or offense, but delivered it all the same. Because they didn’t think to put it into their story, they weren’t TRYING to....but they didn’t think to avoid putting it in there either, even if it’s because they didn’t know to until it’s pointed out to them that it’s there.

And this also applies to when the writer puts into their story, via whatever viewpoint they’re writing from, things that herald from their own viewpoints, how they view the world, even in terms of unconscious biases or expectations....but things that readers can still interpret as something they vehemently disagree with, even if the narrative seems to condone it. Because a lot of these viewpoints are things where the way they’re written....even just not coming out as clearly not condoning or agreeing it can effectively be read as tacitly condoning it.

So to apply all this to the idea of child sidekicks and child soldiers:

They’re not one and the same, and thus treating them as one and the same or interchangeable is IMO an inherently flawed perspective that doesn’t ever have anything USEFUL or RELEVANT to the stories that most people are trying to tell with child heroes and sidekicks.

With the notable exceptions of Miller, Ennis and certain other writers who by their own admission usually aren’t even trying to write about superheroes but rather deconstructions of the genre as a whole.....the vast majority of comic book writers, even the ones I dislike LOL, aren’t writing about child soldiers when they write characters like the Robins. Because CONSCIOUSLY, with INTENT, they’re already trying to write something completely different:

Child heroes and sidekicks are almost universally written to be child (although to be really fair, for the most part they’re largely teen) empowerment allegories. They’re youth power fantasies.

They’re stories about kids, about teens, getting to be the ones to save the world. About kids who don’t need adults to save them because they save themselves or their friends. Kids saving other people, other kids, grown adults. Stories about child HEROES are written as metaphors of hope for the future and the promise of the younger generations, or power fantasies where kids who feel helpless and powerless in their own lives can read these stories and vicariously imagine through the characters the idea of one day having the power to save themselves or other people, what that would be like, what they’d do with that.

But here’s the important part, and why people interpreting these teen and kid heroes as child soldiers doesn’t really offer relevant commentary to stories that are written to be allegorical youth power fantasies, regardless of authorial intent or death of the author....

And that’s because the key ingredient here, the thing that’s not really up for debate or open to interpretation....is that these stories can ONLY ever be allegorical.

Because like I said before, child heroes and child soldiers are not the same thing. There simply IS NO REAL WORLD EQUIVALENT for child and teen heroes as comic books style them.

And that’s why the fact that with most every child hero in comics, no adult makes them be a hero. They choose that for themselves, it’s almost universally characterized as a self-determination or empowerment moment rather than one of coercion like Miller likes to characterize it. His choice to characterize Bruce essentially drafting Dick as Robin to fight alongside him does nothing to provide commentary on any other superhero story, no matter what he’s told himself or his fans, because his story is the only one where Robin was drafted!

You can’t condemn narrative choices that nobody but you has actually written and then act like you’re saying something about any narrative other than your own fsjsjfshfzgzfhgs.

And you also can’t claim that you’re just seeing in the text something that’s inherently there and the other writers didn’t just see to avoid like I was talking about being a valid critique....because what’s being commented on there isn’t anything that was written unknowingly. Other writers consciously wrote the same things as Miller in terms of a child engaged in all that violence....but they deliberately wrote those moments to be metaphors of a kid that gets to save themselves and other people and CHOSE that, which is inherently opposed to the interpretation of a kid who is ONLY in harm’s way because he was forcibly drafted by a more powerful figure or force who cares neither what he wants or if he gets hurt.

These two ideas are mutually exclusive. They can not coexist in the same narrative because a character can not be powerless and self-empowering about the exact same specific choice. And thus anything that’s said about one of these narratives is inherently unable to say anything that’s relevant about the other....because the other is not written by its writer TO BE the kind of narrative that particular commentary is dissecting. It’s not TRYING to be that narrative, so no review of it can possibly say how flawed it’s execution is of an idea it’s not actually trying to execute.

And the differences between child heroes and child soldiers are not just limited to choosing that or being drafted and these other differences are equally key.

The biggest being that child heroes can not be seen as ‘basically’ the same thing as child soldiers.....UNLESS you are also perceiving adult heroes as basically the same thing as adult soldiers. And not even law enforcement or police or temporarily deputized or whatever else you want to spin it as....SOLDIERS, specifically. You don’t get to bring up something as charged as child soldiers and then get vague with your terminology when the close scrutiny that brings to your analogy stops working in your favor.

If sidekicks are child soldiers then you must in conjunction view adult superheroes as soldiers. And not in the abstract one man war on crime way Miller likes to consider Batman in his attempted deconstruction of superheroes. ACTUAL soldiers. If there’s no room in your comparison for child heroes to differentiate from real world child soldiers, there’s no wiggle room for the adults either.

And again, except for Miller, Ennis and specific others who by their own admissions are not TRYING to view superheroes the same way most other comic writers are, but fail to see that genre conventions are largely interpretive and thus seeing room for different interpretations of superheroes isn’t actually a commentary on how other people see and write those same heroes....like except for these select few, most writers are not writing superhero soldiers unless they’re Captain America or Captain Atom. Yes I know there are other superhero soldiers but let me be pithy. Even those aren’t really the same as their real world equivalents.

See, real soldiers don’t make distinctions about whether or not they’re willing to use guns. Their personal views on killing are not prioritized over whether they’ve been told to use lethal force to accomplish their objective. They have a chain of command. No matter the rationalization, they pledge their loyalty to singular nations and the aims and objectives of those specific nations over the abstract of acting in defense of the whole world.

Now again, maybe that applies to Captain Atom, but for the most part can you say the majority of comic book writers are TRYING to write Superman, Batman, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman etc through that lens? No. So while Miller really thinks he said something when he wrote his Batman with guns, fighting in the Middle East, killing people left and right, none of that actually ‘showed’ people that at the end of the day, Batman is no conceptually different from a real world soldier like. No all he actually did was write his own take on Batman, and said look, he’s a gun toting murderous asshole, huzzah I have deconstructed the modern superhero!

Like. Shut up Miller. Honestly.

But seriously. Superheroes do not have a real world equivalent and neither do child heroes. Even when it comes to nonpowered ones like the Batfam, they’re still deliberately written in a larger than life, four color perspective that requires a suspension of disbelief at the front door. We ALL know and understand that they aren’t a blue print for how to go out and be a real world vigilante. Even real world vigilantes exist. But they don’t look anything like the Batfam and it’s disingenuous to pretend they do for the sake of teh discourse. Nobody honestly believes that there is even the OPTION of going out one day and deciding to become a comic book style vigilante like one of the Batfam. It’s why even they’re termed superheroes despite the lack of superpowers. On a CONCEPTUAL level it’s understood that the stories being told about them require an extrahuman medium. You can not simultaneously write characters according to a mythic scale but then attempt to interpret that very writing on a real world one. It doesn’t work.

Which brings me to my final piece of this pie. Or puzzle. Idk I’ve been doing this response for awhile I forget what this is.

And that is again, the difference between interpreting a story in a way the author probably didn’t intend and understanding when a story isn’t meant to be interpreted in the way you’re trying to.

And this difference is how I can understand and reconcile the idea that it’s not inherently abusive for Bruce to allow his kids to fight crime at all, even though that would inherently be child endangerment in the real world, but at the same time, I can view him as abusive in other ways that don’t make allowances for the differences between real life and comics.

Basically it boils down to: CAN this specific element of a story be duplicated in real life or mirror a real life action or idea? Is there a direct parallel to a real world equivalent at all?

I can view Bruce fighting crime or saving the world alongside a child Robin without viewing that as child endangerment or inherently abusive, even when Robin gets hurt in the process....because there is no real world equivalent to those parts of a story. NO ONE, child or adult, is going out there and doing those things Batman and Robin style. Even the people who dress up in their own real life vigilante personas basically just do niche neighborhood things like walk people home from the bar. And even people doing real life vigilantism in terms of taking out criminals, like, that’s usually more of a personal revenge thing and not one where they’re trying to attract attention via a costumed persona. When you think real world Batman and Robin, nothing comes to mind for a reason.

And thus this says nothing inherently abusive about their dynamic, even according to real life parallels of child endangerment, because it’s not a real scenario. And thus it’s not TRYING to say anything about real life. It’s innately allegorical. It’s power fantasy emphasis on the fantasy.

In contrast, when you have something like Bruce hitting one of his kids.....no matter who the characters are, that specific interaction and the dynamic it presents DOES have a real world equivalent. That’s just parent/child abuse. And thus even if the writer didn’t intend for it to be interpreted that way, it’s still a valid interpretation. If it looks like a parent hitting their child, you can call it a parent hitting a child.

Batman and Robin fighting killer mind controlled plants together? Can’t happen. I’m not going to call it child endangerment when it’s not a realistic scenario and not meant to be, and I’ve already been presented with a valid alternative interpretation of this being a child empowered to help save people alongside his superhero father. There’s no point in condemning a dynamic that CANT be translated to a non allegory in real life.

But Bruce hitting his son? A father no matter how good hearted normally, being affected by extreme stress or grief or something else that makes his behavior take a turn for the worse and reach a point where he physically lashes out even if he never would have in the past? Nothing remotely allegorical about that. That story has too many real world equivalents to dismiss as having nothing to say about abuse in real life. Even if the writer didn’t intend for this to read as abusive because they were thinking of how much worse Dick has been hurt fighting alongside Bruce and never held that against him even though technically it was Bruce letting him get hurt....doesn’t matter. That interpretation still requires viewing through a lens that can’t exist in reality. No kid can ever excuse a parent hitting them by thinking of how much worse they got hurt taking down their local mob together and if he didn’t blame his dad for that cuz he wanted to do it to help people then how can he blame his dad for hurting him in a moment of anger? Umm. Doesn’t track see? They’re not the same thing at all.

Or another one that really bugs....I’ve heard people defend shipping a Robin while underage with an adult by saying if they’re old enough to make the choice to risk their life and have that choice respected, they’re old enough to choose who they want to be with. Umm. No. That’s not just apples and oranges that’s genetically modified grapes and seventeenth century cannonballs.

That logic doesn’t apply because neither of those things is the underage character choosing ANYTHING. They’re fictional. Everything they choose is just what their writer wrote them choosing. But again, one of those choices is one that an underage reader CANT choose in real life and have respected by every adult in their life, and thus will never have a bearing on their life as anything BUT an allegory they have to interpret and translate into something actionable they can apply to their life and choices. The other choice is them being written as presented with an option that’s actually a textbook real life grooming technique and something abusers use to justify the relationship they’re trying to cultivate with a minor by saying aren’t you mature for your age, aren’t you old enough to know what you want or to do this or that in which case you should be old enough to make this choice?

See the difference? Putting on a cape and going out to fight robots? Not directly applicable. Saying yes to the grown man saying he wants to have sex with you and thinks you’re old enough given this other choice you’ve made that highlights your maturity? That’s a choice that can be presented both to a Robin or a real life minor, but a writer justifying that choice for that Robin by saying well he’s already previously made this other choice that has no real life equivalent.....that creates a pretty misleading interpretation to people reading that story and not stopping to think through the distinctions between what KINDS of choices the writer is presenting these characters with and then justifying via their narrative.

And while I haven’t watched the video you’re referencing, anon, I would definitely agree that this is an example of how viewing child heroes as child soldiers is....not great. Aside from being cynical, misusing the idea of death of the author and helping to validate Miller’s choices and thus ego which is NEVER a good look LOL....it also intentionally or not paves the way for putting fictional types and MEANS of harm on an even playing field with real life ones and acting like it’s all one and the same with no distinctions to be drawn. And this doesn’t actually offer anything substantive or constructive about holding characters accountable for reasonable expectations of harm, when the sources of harm have no reasonable equivalent and thus only exist in the medium of being a youth power fantasy in which the child involved is fictional and can’t truly be harmed, with the harm done the second the scene ends and where the character can be back in fighting form the very next scene. Thus the only lingering element there IS the power fantasy.

Nope, all it actually does is muddy the waters in the REVERSE, and make it so it’s actually easier to justify or rationalize types and means of harm that DO have a real world equivalent, but by pointing to examples from a fictional medium and emphasizing the fictional character’s lack of being harmed while de-emphasizing the fact that the writer has full control over depicting this in a solely positive light that doesn’t ALLOW the fictional character any angle from which to voice that this CAN result in harm when not written for fictional characters according to a writer’s specific intent.

And that’s that about that. My opinion: you have it.

[kittyanonymity]

Marinette is the daughter of Wonder Woman X Superman

Hey have this!!!! I was inspired by @eve-valution and their wonderful art!

Also like.... It’s really just an excuse for Mari to be ridiculously overpowered tbh; plus.... the aesthetic of this tiny adorable girl accidentally breaking things all the time, and getting super flustered over it. >.> It’s cute, ok? lol

Honestly, my original plan for this was Daminette, and this version is; but I might also make some adjustments for a Timinette version (I love them, they’re adorkable together ok)? I haven’t decided yet. ALSO this is just a basic outline; not the fic itself. I haven’t started the fic yet. Feel free to ask things though!! ALSO THIS AU IS CLASS FRIENDLY!!! 

~ DAMINETTE VERSION~

So in the latest DC animated movies, they’ve been pushing Diana/Clark pretty heavily while implying that despite Clark’s attraction to Diana, he’s still in love with Lois; this is seen pretty obviously when Diana and Clark go on a date, and Lois shows up. Clark immediately puts space between him and Diana and honestly, it’s a little telling. (this is all in stark contrast to the Justice League cartoon from the 90’s/early 2000’s, where Diana and Bruce ((Wonder Woman and Batman)) were shipped pretty heavily) Talk about baby’s first OTP, am I right? XD

ANYWAY THE POINT IS THIS.

Lois and Clark are together, like they’re getting married. (somewhere in the world, Damian is turning one; this is relevant later.) One night, Superman has a ‘moment of weakness’, and him and Wonder woman bang. BOOM! Pregnant.

Diana is rightfully upset, as Clark immediately tells her this was a mistake, they never should’ve done that. He goes back to Lois, and they don’t speak outside of the Watchtower anymore. Diana does not tell him when she finds out she’s pregnant. She goes to Bruce, tells him she’ll be out of commission for up to 3 years.

Bruce is rightfully concerned, but Diana doesn’t tell him what’s wrong. He assures her she can leave; they’ll keep it together out here while she rests in Themyscira. She feels bad for not telling him, but resolves to do it later. Home she goes, to see her mom and the rest of the Amazons!

Her mother is disgusted by Clark’s conduct, but Diana has always wanted to have a child. They know it will be a daughter: it always is, Hippolyta says conspiratorially. The pregnancy is interesting, and many of the Amazons are startled at how quickly their princess can finish her projects. Hippolyta watches on in concern; her daughter has become startlingly creative during these months, and as a previous Ladybug that can mean only one thing.

Tikki will be back in the family soon.

Hippolyta says nothing about this to Diana, not wanting to alarm her daughter.

When Marinette is born with dark hair, and blue eyes there is no surprise. Diana stares at her daughter as if she is the most beautiful thing to have ever existed, and to her, she is. Marinette spends 3 years on Themyscira, learning from her mother, grandmother, and all of her many sisters. She’s an excitable child, with a penchant for marking walls with whatever she can draw. She grasps language easily, and much quicker than anyone would think possible.

But Diana has a duty. She must return to the outside world to assist the league. She thinks of the outside world, how it has taught her, hurt her, but ultimately made her stronger; and she knows that she wants Marinette to have all of that and more. So she contacts an old friend in Paris.

Sabine had left Themyscira many years prior, once Diana had cleared the way for the other Amazons to venture out. She’d fallen in love with a baker, and though the 2 couldn’t have children of their own, they were excellent people. People Diana knew she could entrust Marinette with. Sabine agreed after they discussed it extensively.

Diana would come see Marinette regularly once she was 10, giving the girl some years to mature, and come to terms with her mother’s identity. Diana assured Sabine she’d send any and all support requested, along with letters and gifts for Marinette as she grew. Diana hated to leave her daughter, but seeing as she would constantly be in danger once again, she couldn’t bear to put Marinette through that. Diana tells Sabine who Marinette’s father is, so they can be ready.

Sabine threatens to cut his dick off, which Diana laughs at. Diana and Marinette live with Sabine and Tom for a year, letting Marinette get to know and love them; and then Diana tells Marinette she has to go, the world needs her.

And Marinette just nods, giving her mother a smile.

“I know mommy.”

Good byes and I love you’s are exchanged, and after many tears, Diana finally manages to tear herself away, and she leaves. There is a hole in her heart the size of the Earth, but Diana has a job to do.

This is the world where Marinette lives now too, and she must do all she can to keep her daughter’s world safe.

Clark and Lois get married while Diana is away, and Jonathan is born; he’s only a year younger than Marinette, and 2 years younger than Damian like in canon. Clark is curious as to where Diana disappeared to, asking around, but the only one who knows is Bruce. And when Clark asks, Bruce simply shrugs.

“She told me she’d be gone for a few years. I didn’t press her for details. Everyone needs a break, Superman.”

Clark didn’t like it; he was worried. For her to disappear so abruptly… Surely she hadn’t truly loved him? Clark hates himself as he thinks about it, regret permeating him. He does his best to not think about it.

At least until Diana shows back up, 4 years later, and a little more jaded than she used to be. Bruce welcomes her back with a small smile, and a nod. Diana doesn’t even look at Clark.

And for Clark, it’s enough to just know that she’s safe. He doesn’t blame her for hating him; he kinda hates him too.

Literally none of the League know about Marinette; Diana doesn’t tell fucking anyone.

Miraculous canon happens as normal, only difference is that Lila is fucking gone after the Volpina incident. She’s gone after that, no return, nothing. I hate that girl, and honestly, I just wanna write something where Marinette’s friends love her, without the class drama. I can’t forgive the Miraculous writers for doing that to the students. Chat is still pretty pushy in his pursuit of Ladybug, but not in an exaggerated way. However, it does still cause some eventual complications that he needs to learn and grow from. Minimum bashing should be involved, and it will be centered around pointing out the toxic things he does, and him correcting those behaviors. Adrien is my boi and I love him.

ANYWAY.

When Marinette is 10, Diana shows up to see her. Marinette has known that Sabine wasn’t her real mother; Mari still calls Sabine Maman though cause like… the woman raised her, duh. Marinette loves Diana, even though she doesn’t remember what her mother looks like. Diana always remembers her birthday, and all of the holidays; Marinette has saved every letter, and gift her mother has ever sent her. She doesn’t realize her mother is Wonder Woman yet. Well, at least until she shows up on her 10th birthday. Marinette recognizes her as the heroine instantly, but says nothing; she’s seen movies, she knows secret identities are important!

Over the years, Sabine has kept Diana informed on the progression of Marinette’s… abilities. Look, the girl is a split between the Amazonian princess, and a Kryptonian. God only knows what she’ll be able to do. So far, Marinette has displayed signs of super strength and speed, and most recently flight; she’s got the enhanced senses as well, and she carries ear plugs with her when they go out. Diana is happy to know though, that Marinette has a strong sense of right and wrong. She owes Sabine a great debt of gratitude, and knows she’ll never be able to thank the woman enough for raising their (because yeah, Marinette is theirs now) daughter.

(Marinette goes to school, excited to tell everyone about her 2 mommies and her daddy. Despite Diana not being romantically involved with them…. Yet???? Maybe????? HMMMM)

After Marinette turns 10, Diana makes a point to visit every spring for her daughter’s birthday, and to check in on things. The day of Marinette’s 14th birthday, Diana steps off of the plane, and on her way to the Dupain-Cheng bakery, she witnesses her first akuma. Preparing to step in, Diana freezes when Ladybug and Chat Noir appear on the scene.

Diana recognizes Marinette on sight, and the spots are familiar. She remembers her mother, the stories of Tikki, and the adventures they had, the evils they stopped. She remembers how anxious her mother was during her pregnancy, when Diana could not stop drawing, writing, whatever she could be doing.

Marinette is a pure soul of creation, born of Tikki’s essence, and she is Diana’s daughter, an Amazon, and half kryptonian.

Diana watches her daughter fight, hands clenched at her sides. The Amazon in her demanding she see this through, watch her daughter be the fierce warrior she is meant to be; the mother in her is clawing at her throat, preventing her from speaking with the force of her panic.

And Marinette is an excellent fighter. Diana recognizes many of the moves she used to practice while they were still on the island, and they’ve been refined, polished, and put on display to show the world. It had to be Sabine’s handiwork, teaching her this. Did Sabine know she was Ladybug? No, she would’ve told Diana first thing.

Diana does not intervene, watching Ladybug win, and undo the damage.

Once the akuma is dealt with, Diana follows her daughter as she swings away and finds a quiet place to de-transform.

“My little light, you have exactly 2 minutes to tell me what is going on.”

Marinette jumps a mile, whipping around to see her mother, and then Tikki is smiling, hugging Diana’s cheek.

“Diana! It’s been too long!” Diana gives the kwami a smile.

“Hello, Tikki, mother misses you.”

Marinette is dumbfounded.

Diana explains everything, about how she knows, and why; tells her about Hippolyta, and her connection to the Miraculous. It was the most exciting and stressful birthday yet.

Diana starts making more regular trips to Paris to assist her daughter when she needs the extra help; since Diana is generally fairly good at keeping her emotions in check, it works out. Marinette works extra hard to make sure she keeps her extra abilities in check.

She uses her powers in small subtle ways; using her flight to get a better distance out of a yo-yo swing, but doing it in a way where it’s unnoticeable to the standard eye. Or using her x ray vision to avoid people she doesn’t want to see. She lets herself be clumsy, and careless with her movements in her daily life, making sure none of her friends can ever make the connection between her and Ladybug later on; before Ladybug, she’s clumsy so she doesn’t draw attention to her powers. The only one who knows she has powers is Nino.

It’s hard to explain to your childhood friend why you’re flying after all; he had been there the first time she’d accidentally used this new power. OOPS

All abilities/side effects Mari has:

-Super strength

-super senses (hearing, sight, smell, etc ((is taste usually included in this???? hm)))

-Enhanced vision (x-ray, thermal)

-Flight

-Super speed (bout as fast as Superman if she tries hard enough)

-Ladybug luck

-Martial arts/various fighting styles

-Amazon swordfighting & archery

Side effects:

-Sluggish in Winter thanks to Ladybug things; will hibernate if she gets too cold

-Has bursts of creative energy that keep her up far longer than she should be; usually crashes afterwards; these will stop as she gets older, and gets a better handle on her Ladybug powers.

-Gets sick easily during the cold months

-Kryptonite hurts her, obviously; she gets a wicked migraine, and nausea; usually her vision gets bad too.

Marinette’s personality doesn’t change all that much, really. She’s still undeniably kind, and selfless, always going out of the way for her friends. She’s a bit more vocal about her sense of justice, not putting up with bullies. Chloe gets her redemption a bit early because of this. Marinette is also not afraid to just absolutely throw down and brawl if you’re being a violent asshole. Like, damn. She is tiny, but she will miss you up.

ANYWHO.

With Diana making frequent trips to Paris, it catches Bruce’s eye, and he of course gets suspicious. The French government has been keeping the situation with the Akumas under wraps for about 3 years now, no news escaping the country. Marinette is currently 16, Diana has been helping her deal with hard to handle akumas for 2 years; Damian is 17, and Jon is 15.

So when Bruce looks into Diana’s activity in Paris, he’s startled to find little to nothing about Wonder Woman. An article briefly mentions something called an ‘akuma’ but then there’s no further mention. Instead he finds records of Diana Prince shacking up with a married couple and their daughter.

When Bruce finds a picture of Diana standing with the Dupain-Chengs, his breath leaves him. She is staring at the girl in the picture with such a proud adoring gaze, and he would have to be blind to miss the resemblance. The girl’s age lines up with when Diana left, and Bruce remembers how unusually concerned Clark had been about her location.

He’s the world’s greatest detective, and the pieces are too easy to put together.

SO Bruce Wayne does what Bruce Wayne always does.

Finds a way to get information.

He invites Francois-Dupont to his yearly student seminar, meant to help students get a jump start on their careers. They must prove why they deserve to attend, like all the schools invited, in the form of an essay, accompanied by a video of their school.

Mlle. Bustier’s class is selected as the class to make the video representing the school; Marinette and Alya volunteer to head the project with audio assistance from Nino, while Adrien offers to help with the budget. The class comes together to offer some kind of assistance or another, even Chloe, who goes out of her way to help the class plan. Marinette writes the basic video out, how it should look, what it should say.

But they need a narrator.

The class unanimously votes for Marinette.

“You know us better than anyone, Nette. It’s gotta be you.”

“Everyone knows you here, Mari; you’re the sweetest girl in the school.”

“A WELCOME VIDEO!”

It’s Alya who shouts it, grinning at the class.

“It’ll be a welcome video with Marinette showing a ‘new kid’ around!”

Marinette’s gotta admit, it’s genius; the class agrees, and planning begins in earnest now that they have a better idea for it.

All of their carefully laid plans fall to pieces when their high end camera breaks the day they need to film. Everyone is shouting, stress is high, and Rose is crying. Marinette knows she needs to do something before an akuma shows up, but then she hears a yelp, and she looks over to see a first year stumble back as Kim knocks into her. Marinette’s there in an instant, steadying the girl on her feet, and giving her a smile.

“Are you ok?”

She’s unaware of Adrien watching her with a fond smile, while he elbows Alya; Alya stops yelling at Chloe long enough to look over, and quickly take her phone out, and press record. The classes attention immediately shifts, the tension all but disappearing.

The first year nods hesitantly.

“Y-yes I’m ok. It’s just my first day here, a-and I’m…” The dark haired girl bit her lip, looking at the floor, “I’m really scared.” Marinette frowned for a moment before she smiled, and took the girls’ hand.

“I’m Marinette, what’s your name?” The girl sniffled, rubbing at her eyes.

“My name’s Bridgette.” Marinette nodded, her smile growing.

“It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about my friend Kim over there. He gets a little excitable sometimes.” Bridgette offered her a smile.

“It’s ok. It looked interesting so I wanted to get closer, but I wasn’t paying much attention.” Her eyes fell, and she looked off to the side, but Marinette gripped her hand gently, causing her to look up.

“I can show you around the school if you like. Everyone here is really nice, I promise. We look after each other the best we can, and you can always ask one of us for help.” Marinette gestures to her classmates, who offer Bridgette encouraging smiles. It’d been awhile since they’d seen Marinette work her particular brand of magic. Bridgette’s smile grew, and she finally nodded.

“I’d really appreciate that, Marinette thank you.” Marinette simply waved her off.

“It’s fine! We’ll make it fun!” She turned to her class, missing Alya hiding behind Adrien, still recording.

“I’ll be back in a bit guys. Come find me when you get the camera replaced.”

The camera panned around Adrien’s back as Marinette turned away, and began leading Bridgette further into the school. Alya hurried to catch up, the class following shortly after.

Marinette showed the young girl all around the building, from her homeroom class, and to each individual classroom so the girl would never be lost. And she talked to her, learning that Bridgette had just recently moved there from Italy, escaping her old school and the torment she’d endured there. It burned Marinette to know that someone had been so cruel to such a sweet girl, but Bridgette assured her it was fine since she wasn’t there anymore. Marinette in turn, assured her that no one at Dupont would ever treat her so cruelly. And if anyone did happen to do so, she should come find her immediately.

Bridgette laughed, flushing pink.

“Thanks, Mari!” Bridgette’s gaze grew wistful, “It’s been awhile since I’ve laughed with a friend.”

And Marinette was resplendent in her joy, pulling the girl into a gentle hug.

“We’ll look out for you, Bridgette. You can count on us.” The girl returned the embrace, nodding. After a moment, the two girls pulled back, and Bridgette smiled.

“Thanks for caring, Mari.” Marinette shrugged, giving her a smile.

“You’re worth it, Bridgette, remember that.” She nodded her head towards a classroom, “But you should probably get to class now. I think you’re really late. I’ll have a talk with Mr. Beaumont about why right after my class and I finish this project, ok? Just tell him Marinette will explain, and he should understand.” Bridgette nodded, thanking her again, before kissing her cheek, and heading to her classroom. Marinette watched her go with a smile, and sighed, before turning to head back to her class.

Only to promptly freeze at the sight of them behind her, grinning in glee, Alya at the front, phone held high.

Marinette flushed bright red.

“Guys, what’re you doing?” Alya clicked end on the recording and grinned at her best friend.

“Getting our video of course!”

Marinette was certain she was going to die. Or combust on the spot. God, what if she actually did though, and it was just another damn power to worry about???

Needless to say, she’s embarrassed. But once the class reviews the video, they find it to be perfect. They were able to stay close enough to hear Bridgette’s and Marinette’s conversation, and hear Marinette explaining things to her. Nino took the audio and boosted it in certain parts, and making sure to edit out any personal information the girls discussed during the tour.

The video coupled with the 15 page essay Marinette submits secures their spot in the seminar.

Meanwhile, when Diana hears Marinette gushing about their school being invited to the annual Wayne Seminar, she is immediately suspicious. She finds Bruce within the day, appearing in the Batcave with no preamble; Bruce is waiting for her.

He offers her a drink. And Diana sighs, because he definitely already knows; so she accepts his drink, and they sit.

And they talk.

He asks why she didn’t tell him, he would’ve helped her. And Diana laughs, and it’s surprisingly good natured.

“Bruce, you would’ve killed him back then. Don’t think I don’t know how much you two hated each other back then.” She sighed, “You idiots were finally about to be friends, and if I’d told you what he’d said, what we’d done…” She snorted, “I was quite sure you would’ve killed him.” Bruce didn’t deny her accusations, nor did he accept them.

“What’s she like?” And Bruce watched Diana’s whole body relax, a small smile on her face as she swirled the liquor in her glass.

“She is the best thing that has ever existed for me in this world. She’s my little light, and I will see that this world is safe for her.” Bruce thought of his sons, his daughters, and he nodded.

“And her powers?” Diana’s grin grew broad, and she raised her fist.

“She is strong, Bruce. The strongest.” Again, Bruce nodded, having a drink from his glass as Diana stared him down, “If you hurt her while she is in your care, Bruce, we will have problems. You know this?” Bruce sat his glass down, reaching for the bottle to refill his cup.

“I know, Diana. My intentions are purely curious, I promise you.” He smiled, a small upturn of his lips, “She was the star of their video, you know.”

He shows her the video the class submitted, edited to include the class singing the praises of their class president as an intro, before it cut to some footage taken on a cell phone. It followed Marinette around as she guided a younger student around the school, offering advice, and going out of her way to help the girl. The footage ended with the girl’s blushing face before it cut to an outro featuring the Journalist of the class, Alya Cesaire. Alya had said that since Marinette was writing the essay, she knew her friend wouldn’t include her own good deeds, and since Alya was in charge of the video, she’d take care of it here.

And Diana watched her daughter’s best friend proudly declare Marinette’s achievements, and her aspirations; the good she’d done, and the bad she’d prevented, or outright ended.

Bruce pretended not to notice Diana’s tears.

OOF I DID NOT MEAN TO WRITE THAT MUCH OF THAT WOW

Ok so anyway, trip to Gotham gets secured cause of all that. Master Fu will send Kaalki with Marinette as an assured countermeasure against akumas, and Diana promises she will stay in Paris while Marinette is in Gotham. This assures Marinette that between her mom, Viperion, and Ryuuko they could hold their own until she could get there.

To Gotham! YAY!

They land mid afternoon, check into the hotel, and fucking sleep. That’s it.

Next day, they have a guided tour of the Gotham Natural History museum, which is super dope, and everyone is excited; except for Chloe, because even redeemed she’s kind of a brat. I love her. Marinette meets Tim first in this one. Tim is at the Museum because as CEO of Wayne Enterprises he is donating something to the museum. They bump into each other, and she knocks him down.

Tim is kind of stunned cause this tiny pixie like girl just knocked right into him and didn’t even budge, holy shit. And Marinette is stumbling over her words as she apologizes, and helps Tim up, and wow, that is one hell of a grip for someone that size, what the fUCK. Tim is properly dismayed, but waves off her concern good naturedly, saying he shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the hallway like an idiot; Marinette flushes brighter, insisting she should’ve been paying more attention.

And then Jason shows up, cause like damn Tim, what the hell is taking you so long?

Looks at Marinette.

Hey isn’t she a bit young for you, Drake?

(in another timeline this would probably be a fun Timinette AU, I won’t lie. hmmmmmmm…..)

Tim rolls his eyes at Jason’s antics, offering Marinette a grimace.

‘Sorry about him, he’s deplorable. Again I’m sorry for running into you’

Marinette laughs it off, shaking her head

‘I’m so sorry for knocking you down. I’ll make sure to pay more attention.’

Tim and Jason leave, Jason offering her a wide grin and a little wave; Marinette just shakes her head in amusement, and catches up with the class.

MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE MUSEUM

Damian and Jon are hanging out; Jon has decided to come and pester him since his school, Metropolis Prep, is also invited to the seminar, and Damian likes his friend, he really does, but *god* he is suffering right now. Jon is making comments left and right, and Damian is about to lose it.

‘Ooh, am I making you mad, Wayne?’

Damian glares at his friend.

‘Stop talking. My head is killing me, and I am *this* close to killing *you*.’

Jon just laughs, and Damian rolls his eyes.

After awhile of wandering around, looking at things, they go get some lunch in the cafeteria. There’s a large group of French students taking up one of the tables, one dark haired girl standing while the others are sitting; there’s a map and a notebook spread out in front of her. Damian watches as she smiles at her classmates, writing things in the notebook, while marking things on the map.

‘Oh, that’s cool!’

Damian looks at Jon, ‘What?’ Jon grins.

‘They’re planning on what they want to see while in Gotham.’

‘How do you know?’ Jon rolls his eyes as they get some food.

‘Damian. I have super powers, idiot.’ Damian snorts.

‘Doesn’t explain your incompetence though.’

Both boys miss the wide eyed stare Marinette is giving Jon from her table.

She hadn’t MEANT to hear him, but when you can hear pretty much everything, eavesdropping is inevitable; doesn’t mean she has to like it though.

Also, wow that boy looks so much like her?? How weird.

She and the class finish planning other places they’d like to go, while Marinette turns the list of locations into Miss Bustier for her to review. They had a basic schedule set up, but their teacher had allowed them to see Gotham for what it was before finalizing things.

After lunch, their tour resumes, and Jon and Damian find themselves along the same path as Marinette’s class. They’ve moved past some of the older cultural items, and are entering the room of heroes and villains. Wax replicas of Batman, all of the Robins’, Black Bat, Batgirl, and various big name villains line the walls. Damian was on edge the entire time, not quite listening to Jon’s rambling.

And well OF COURSE something goes wrong, because you can’t have the Dupont kids go anywhere with no problems.

Two Face steps down from where his figure used to be, unloading his gun into the ceiling. He thinks he’ll have an easy time taking this French class hostage.

He is not prepared for these kids.

Alix and Kim tag team a couple of his henchmen with support from Max who has outfitted Markov with some new tech as well. Juleka (who has been tapped for the Lion Miraculous before) and Rose (who’s used the Mouse) take one down, while Ivan smashes two more henchmen together, shielding Mylene. Alya takes the knees out another one while Nino comes across his jaw with a hard left cross. Nathaniel is in front of Sabrina, shielding her when Chloe comes down hard on the henchman in front of them.

Adrien and Marinette go for Two Face, each of them a bit surprised at how the other moved.

And Damian is shocked stupid, watching this French class absolutely decimate one of Gotham’s finest rogues.

Meanwhile Jon is stuck staring at the duo. Between looking at the cute blonde boy, or the dark haired girl who is *WAY* stronger than she looks; especially if she can throw Two Face around one handed, damn.

And Marinette is more concerned with keeping her friends safe than hiding her abilities, and she probably moves too fast, and uses too much strength; her classmates buy her excuse of her extra martial arts classes outside of class.

Damian however does not.

And then the police show up, shocked to find this group of criminals subdued by a group of foreign teenagers.

The second Damian is out of the museum, losing Jon for a moment in the chaos, he calls his father.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was a meta among that French class you invited?”

Damian can practically his father shrug.

“It’s not my business to tell, Damian. Just talk to her.”

He growled as his father ended the call; the man knew something, he knew it.

And thus begins the chronicles of Damian trying to figure out WTH is going on with Marinette; which leads to friendship. Damnit.

This is where the typical getting to know you Daminette stuff will happen.. Including dates, and identity reveals.

The biggest conflict of this is honestly dealing with Superman when he finds out. Marinette has known who her father was since she was 10 years old, when she learned her mother’s identity; but Diana didn’t officially tell her until her 14th birthday, after the akuma incident.

“No more secrets, little light; I will tell you everything.” Diana had said; and she had.

Marinette is glad to have Tom, because wow her real father sounds like a dickhead.

When she officially meets Jon (Damian introduces them), she immediately realizes ‘well fuck, I have a little brother???? And he’s best friends with the boy I have a crush on, shit.’

Anyway, Superman finds out Diana had a daughter, their daughter, after the trip to Gotham concludes, and he immediately heads for Paris as Superman. He finds Diana as Wonder Woman talking to a young girl in Red with black spots, but Superman is set on speaking to Diana as he lands, and starts striding up to her.

“We need to talk.” Diana stares at him dispassionately as he walks up.

“I have nothing to say to you. Leave.”

Clark reaches out for Diana’s hand, only to have his wrist grabbed by the girl in red; who is glaring up at him fiercely. Wow her grip is tight…

“If you touch my mother, I will decimate you.”

And Clark is reeling, because holy shit, this is his daughter; his and Diana’s blood. And Clark just looks at Diana, conflicted.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Diana?” Diana shrugged.

“Telling you would not have changed the outcome. I have always wanted a child, and she is everything I need of this world. Why would I tell you?”

“Because she’s my blood too! She’s kryptonian!” And the girl growls, and then she is hovering in front of his face, blocking his view of Diana. Her eyes are a blazing blue behind her mask, and Clark realizes: she can fly.

“I may share your blood, Superman, but I am not Kryptonian; I am an Amazon. I am Ladybug. And I will not listen to you berate my mother for her choices. She told you to leave, and I can assure you, I won’t be as nice when I demand your absence.”

And Clark is just. Stunned. Because yeah, that was definitely an Amazonian level threat she just gave him; but he’s Superman, and yeah, she’s his daughter, but how strong could she be? Should he push the matter?

Clark watches as other heroes slowly appear behind the girl; One clad in orange, one in green; A fox and turtle respectively. Then there’s the one in black, green eyes narrowed at him; a feral cat, it looks like. Then there’s the one in yellow and rusty orange, a snarl marring her lips; a Bee?? Or a Hornet?? The final two are teal and red, a boy and a girl; a snake, and a… dragon?

What has his daughter been up to in Paris?

Grief swells within him, and he sighs.

“Ok, I’ll-”

Ladybug screams.

“Hello Superman, I am Hawkmoth.”

And that’ll be the final fight of this fic I think! They’ll beat akumatized Superman (batfam Zetas in to help, and so does Jon and Connor), and then Clark leads them to Hawkmoth’s base, and Gabriel is dealt with, along with Nathalie. Marinette and Adrien will both do university in America, with Adrien learning under Bruce about business along with Damian (the 2 become surprisingly good friends after a point), and Marinette accepted Audrey’s internship while she goes to school in New York. She frequently pops over to the manor to see the Batfam.

I’m gonna work on the Timinette version of this next; that ship is so adorkable and I *LOVE* it

There may also end up being a Jasonette version?? I haven’t decided yet tbh

#maribat #daminette #mlb x dc #WonderSuper AU #that'll be the tag for this #will I actually write it?? #WHO KNOWS! #NOT *ME*! #:D #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #this AU isn't entirely Superman friendly #but it IS class friendly!!! :D #here have this!

[cagirl9270]

I’m posting this now before Supernatural actually ends. It’s just something I thought of. I don’t want it to end at all, but this theory came to me and I went with it.

Chuck is not God as he claims to be, and thank heavens for that because he would make a dreadful one. I have been thinking about the possible outcome of the end of Supernatural for sometime now, and with Covid-19 stunting production and just about everything else on the planet—hey we never wanted Supernatural to end anyway, so here we have it, not ending—I have had time to ponder things.

Chuck is not God, he is, however, a genius. He is a talented writer who has studied the King James Version of the Bible, along with every kind of monster lore there is because it fascinated him. He has loved making up wonderful and terrifying stories since he was young. His father was even, at one time concerned for his well-being and pushed him to play sports. He hated it, but did, as an obedient son. When his father wasn’t around, he continued to write as it was his true passion. He felt it was his gift. He felt in charge. He felt like a god. He could control every circumstance. He could control the weather if he wanted to. He could create a world with only monsters. He did. He decided there was such a place, but he didn’t have a name for it yet, so he called it The Monster World, just so he wouldn’t forget it was there. Soon Chuck created his own earth, with his own people. Of course this earth was just like this one. It was what he knew, what he studied, but then he added some elements into his earth that ours didn’t have.

Chuck brought demons into his world, vampires, wendigos, shape shifters, ghosts, and every other thing that goes bump in the night. Chuck made them real on his earth. Now his earth needed someone who would be willing to fight these things. He didn’t want Super heroes. That had been done to death. He wanted humans. He wanted humans that would fight for their lives for the sake of the human race. He wanted that because maybe his own world lacked that. So Chuck created two young men. He decided they were brothers, but that wasn’t enough. Just being brothers fighting against monsters for the sake of humanity? People would want to understand why! So being a god, Chuck created the Winchester family, a family that on the surface would seem suburban. Husband, Wife, and two children. But it would go so much deeper than that. And all along, Chuck knew how the story was going to play out.

Now we all know how it starts, so I will skip ahead a bit. But instead of the books being kind of underground and a cult classic, they are big like the show, and for the sake of this commentary, the show itself doesn’t exist only the books do, Chuck is increasingly aware of his power to create. He is getting a little in over his head in the season 3 area which would be closing in around book 60 if we assume each episode represents a book. So now he has reached wild fame (think Harry Potter/Game of Thrones) and maybe there are talks of TV or movies. But Chuck doesn’t want that. Remember how elusive he actually was in the show. So he sends Dean to hell believing that would end the series. The producers often left on a note that would close the series, in case they were not picked up in the fall. When the books were not enough the fans demanded more.

Now in season 4, Chuck the Prophet was writing again. He was called a prophet because he didn’t want the boys to know he was God. That can still be viable here as Chuck is becoming so attached to his books and therefore more convinced that he is a god. This is when Sam and Dean become self aware for the first time. It scared Chuck. In fact, it skewed his reality so much that he decided to end it for good because it was too much. He decided that this time Sam would say yes to Lucifer, he would go to hell and Dean would finally get that life he deserved. The End? Do you remember that Chuck ended it with a question mark? He did.

Once again, the writers/producers left it open should the show come back. Chuck wasn’t ready to give up his world either. It was so perfectly created and Sam and Dean were his favorites. He brought them back by popular demand but to keep reality from blending with fantasy he left Sam without a soul, threw in Mother Eve, so that the boys would forget they were real.

Then the leviathan came and a lot of Dick jokes happened because Chuck was having fun screwing with everyone. And I believe he met Becky in real life and that they dated, and that she dumped him because he was crazy, and by this time he was an alcoholic. She also couldn’t help but notice how strangely and oddly connected he was to Sam and Dean. Don’t get her wrong, she loved the boys too, but they were fictional. And having her put a spell on Sam in one of the books just so he would marry her, was a low blow she thought.

By the eight season or mid 100s at this point of writing, we are looking at the trials and throwing the biggest massive shit the boys have ever seen; including a Knight from Hell. When they meet the scribe of god, he's small, old, and more crazy old man than an angel who scribed god’s word. But let’s look a little closer at Metatron for a minute: when we meet him he speaks of writing and storytelling and how it is like being a god. I am not sure if Metatron/Marv is a real person to Chuck, perhaps a past teacher or crazy uncle. Whoever he is, he seems to be someone Chuck trusts. Think of season 11 when Chuck is writing and his book is a suicide note.

This brings me to Amara. I think she may be real too. Marv brings Amara to Chuck (not Dean—though in the series/books it is, of course, otherwise) In this version, Marv brings Amara to Chuck to save him because he tried to kill himself because he was going crazy. He could no longer tell what was real. He was having full blown conversations with Sam and Dean, as well as Lucifer and Castiel. He couldn’t take it anymore. His world was slowly dying. Remember at the climax of 11, when Amara injured Chuck and the world started to die? It was her that ultimately saved Chuck.

Since Marv was encouraging Chuck to write, Amara told him to stay out of Chuck’s life that he was poisoning his mind. Amara (in the series) killed Metatron—painfully—so Chuck might see his banishment as death.

All is right with the world, except it felt unfinished. Chuck had to complete his story. The boys were not together. They needed unity. They needed family. They needed, their mother. But it’s never that easy. Chuck decided to keep writing; despite his sister’s wishes. She left him again. He did what he did best. He wrote and gave the fans more. Of course, The Men of Letters was not his best work, but he had bigger plans. He just needed the boys to be distracted. If they were distracted, it meant they were quiet. They didn’t talk to him. They were busy. They had work to do.

Then, Chuck got careless and decided to make a baby. It had been done so many times before. But this time it would be different. Satan’s baby was not going to be good or evil. It was up to the world, to the child, and well, as luck would have it Chuck! He was god after all.

As Chuck continued on this path, he grew deeper and deeper into his psychosis of him being a god. He began creating alternate universes all containing Sam’s and Dean’s. Sometimes everything was backwards, sometimes it was all yellow, and sometimes they were squirrels, but his first Sam and Dean, our Sam and Dean remained his favorite.

Chuck medicated himself with alcohol, with prescription drugs, anything he could think of to silence his characters. They were so loud and demanded his attention. He couldn’t make them handle their world alone anymore. “Free will” as he called it, much like what he learned in the Bible wasn’t working. His characters demanded answers. Chuck was losing the battle worse than ever before. He reached out to Amara, but she couldn’t handle his mental issues anymore and begged him to check himself into a hospital.

Desperate for reality and maybe even validation, Chuck reaches out to Becky only to find out she is married and has children. This is where it finally unravels and he loses all control. Chuck writes Becky off in the most literal sense. He obliterates her in his story along with her family. They are all gone. The story continues to get scarier and bloodier with him at the helm as a vengeful and wrathful god. Sam and Dean are warriors though and they fight valiantly. They will no longer have their lives played out or dictated by Chuck. It is by their rules.

In the end, the bitter end, Chuck is found alone in his hospital room with words written all over the walls, he is on the floor and writing furiously. Amara is being escorted in by Dr. John Winchester and Dr. Mary Campbell. Perhaps, Cas is a nurse, Sam and Dean are brothers but they are patients, and part of the group therapy sessions. Each of the supporting characters playing some role in his reality, that is now a mental institution with us not knowing how long he has been there or Chuck himself. The last thing he writes, “Carry on…”

#supernatural #jensen ackles #deanwinchester #misha collins #castiel #jared padalecki #samwinterchester #just a theory #ihopeitdoesntendlikethis #becausethatwouldsuck #justwordvomit

[bullshittierlists]

My Thoughts:

I see no god up here except me

Frosch- He’s obviously the best, I mean look at him, he’s so adorable.

Freed- I love his relationship with Laxus (yes, I ship it) because it’s just so obvious how in love with him he is and it’s great. I also love the type of magic he uses, it’s so cool to me.

Rogue- Rogue’s pretty great, and he’s really hot, too. I think what makes me like him so much is his relationship with Frosch. I absolutely adore how he’s super emo all of the time, except when he’s with Frosch.

You’re the best

Gray- He takes his shirt off all the time, of course he’s this high up.

Cana- I really like her dynamic with all of the other members of the guild, she’s like a big sister and I think that’s really cute.

Gajeel- I think one of my favorite parts with him (other than all of the one’s with Levy) is when he was looking for a cat sidekick, which eventually became Lily.

Milliana- She’s always been one of my favorites for no particular reason. I do love cats, though, so that might be it. I really like the way she ties into Erza’s past, too.

Aquarius- The scene where Lucy broke her key was heartbreaking, and I really miss her. She was a very funny character and always brought life to the screen whenever she was on it.

Hey, I think you’re pretty cool, I like you a lot

Brandish- I like how cool-headed her character is, and her change from one side to being more neutral was really cool and well done.

Aries- She just cute, what else can I say?

Bisca- Her marriage with Alzack is so wholesome. You could argue that as the series goes along, we’re following the relationship of Natau and Lucy, but I think Alzack and Bisca have grown much more. Also, Asuka is just the cutest thing ever.

Angel- She was such a great villain. Not because she was good at being a villain, but because she was entertaining and I loved her as a character. And now she’s on the good side, so that’s even better!

Dimaria- Now this is a villain I can get on board with, she’s super evil all the time, even with her soft spots, and her magic was so cool, too.

Evergreen- I just like her in the Thunder Legion and I find her an enjoyable character. Her relationship with Elfman has also been super enjoyable, as well.

Gildarts- He’s the best dad, and his dynamic with Cana is so wholesome and great.

Bacchus- I honestly don’t know why I put him this high, but I love his guild, they never fail to make me laugh.

Bickslow- Again, I like his spot in the thunder legion, he’s the crazy one. I’ve also found him entertaining in just about every scene he’s in.

Carla- She’s kind of the mom of the group, even though she’s a cat, and that’s hilarious to me, as a fellow mom friend.

Cobra- His transition from bad to good was so sweet, and his relationship with Kinana/Cubellios is so cute and pure.

Elfman- I just like his dynamic with his sisters and how family-oriented he is. Also, he can cook.

Erza- She’s pretty far down on the list, but that’s because I’m usually pretty biased against main characters. I think she’s funny and I always laugh at her stage fright, and above all else, her fight scenes are so cool. It was so incredible when we first met her and saw her use her magic, but by now, it’s gotten dull.

Eve- I kind of put him here as a place for him, Hibiki, and Ren, since he was the only one on here. While I don’t like Ichiya at all, I think it’s entertaining how much they praise him all the time and the little routines they do.

Flare- She was a really cool character. She was actually psychotic, but had a really cool backstory and formed a good connection with Lucy. I really liked her development through her entire arc.

Gemini- I think the Gemini twins are kind of funny, but not nearly as much as everyone else I’ve mentioned before. I liked them a lot more in the alternate universe where all of the Zodiac looked a lot different. But to be fair, I liked all of them better in that version other than Leo and Virgo.

I honest to god can’t remember his name and don’t care to look him up- The only reason he’s here and not in ‘Don’t remember who you are’ is because I really like his voice actor in the new season of the anime.

I remember you

All of the characters in this tier are here for the same reason. I remember them existing, but I don’t remember most of their names, let alone their personality.

Don’t remember who you are

I don’t remember who these characters are. At all. I remember seeing some of them, but I remember nothing about them. They didn’t stick out to me, therefore, they’re not good.

You are literally the worst. Actual scum. Leave this planet and never return.

I don’t really hate any of these characters, I just barely remember them and remember not liking them very much.

So obviously this tier list is missing a lot of characters (I am furious that Levy’s not on here) but I don’t make my own lists, I just use pre-made ones and order them differently. Here’s my definitive list of favorite characters from Fairy Tail (not including spirits or exceeds)

1. Levy

2. Gray and Rogue

3. Freed and Rufus

4. Mavis

5. Lyon and Cana

6. Juvia and Lisanna

7. Mirajane, Millianna, and Dan Straight

#fairy tail #tier lists #bullshit tier lists

[flydotnet]

Euthanasia

VRAINS Rarepair Weeks 2018 - Day 4: Birthday/Dying

Summary: [Euthanasia: substantive. From the Greek for "happy" and "death" ; literally, "a happy death".] He is dying in his beloved's arms, but it's too late to realize that, and it's too late to tell her about it. He simply wishes she wasn't crying over him in his last moments. That must be why he doesn't want to die now.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS Ships: Hireshipping (Ema/Akira), platonic and brotherly Akira & Aoi

Wordcount: 2.3K words

Notes: Shhh I skipped Day 3 and I know it, I simply wasn't inspired at all by festivities yesterday lmao. Sup you non-only-DSS-shipper peeps, remember when I made y'all suffer with some angst? Well, it's back woopsie daisy. I've never continued Cyber Thunder Cider (still need to, despite my canon being outdated af by Ema and Kengo's actual situation that was revealed afterwards in the show), so I'm here to bring you what would essentially be the other side of that story. I originally wanted to subvert the prompt with some shitty proverb but instead it's dead-ass angst. Deadass Hire angst because who doesn't want more Hireshipping and suffering in their life? Well, maybe you don't, but I sure do and I'm the one with the angsty Hireship fics here.

Event hosted by @vrainsrarepairweeks

AO3 version available here.

Almost shot through the heart, huh.

 That was rather ironic to think about: he had survived many potentially lethal deals in a shady back alley to finance his sister’s happiness, and yet this would be the end of him. What an ironic ending to his life. It was by saving someone else from death that he granted it upon himself once and for all.

This person he had saved was clutching him against her chest with little consideration to how much he was bleeding out. It was heart-breaking in such a selfish way: he didn’t want the last moments he’d see her to be so sad and painful for her. He had never wanted to see her cry and especially not because of him.

 He wished he could tell her not to weep over him, that’d it be okay. After all, she called for an ambulance as soon as she realized he had been shot: she had done what she could already. There was no reason for her to feel bad about something he had decided to do for her sake: he had never been forced to do so, he simply wanted to save her. Ema’s life, in a moment, mattered much more than his. It still did then: he was actively dying now, and she was alive, safe and sound, albeit miserable. No matter which way he tried to see it as, it was still better than letting her get shot. Would it have gotten her, she would have been killed on the spot.

Bleeding out to death was a weird way to go. In a day and age of instant demises, of lives ending shorter than they got conceived, it was surprising to him that he had been given the time to see Ema’s sorrow over his incoming end and to reflect on his own life. Not that there was much to say about it before his parents had died: afterwards, it had been day-to-day survival, switching between school and back-alley jobs he could never be proud of having done, all for Aoi’s smile which slowly disappeared because he hadn’t given her the attention she deserved. Ah, Aoi…

 “Ema, can… Can I ask you something…?” His voice was groggy and struggling to escape from his throat, as if caught inside by a spider’s sticky and tricky web. It was exhausting to even speak, but he had to do this for Aoi’s sake.

“O-of course…” Her own voice was hesitant, almost wishing not to exist. Through his blurry vision, he could still she was turning away from him, pinching her lip, a tear running down her cheek. Would he have the strength to do so, he would have landed her his handkerchief for her to brush away her tears.

“Can you promise me to watch over Aoi for me… Please…?”

His demand was split in the middle by blood pouring out of his mouth. His lung had been touched. Her own face looked like it had been split apart by it.

“O-of course I will…”

Ema seemed very unsure of her promise, as if doubting her certitude to assure it. Now this was more worrisome… However, that might have been because of how upset she was.

 Still reassured to hear her agree to it, he swallowed back more of the blood he coughed out. The bullet had lodged itself inside his left lung, near his heart that was beating three times too quickly, and yet his pulse was weakening by the moment. His body didn’t know where to go while he was somewhat at a peace of mind: all he needed to do was to make sure Ema and Aoi were both safe. He had saved the former from getting mortally shot: she would take care of the latter. He could sense Aoi had a fondness for the cyberhuntress already, it would only be a question of time.

“By the way… You can get my flat….” He added to make sure they would live perfectly fine when he’d be gone.

 Ah, he was still fairly young to die, now that he thought about it. Dying at twenty-six wasn’t exactly going very far in ages where the average life expectancy was around ninety years of age. Oh well, it was too late to regret doing this. A hand on the dampness that had become this suit he felt like he always wore, it was time to even think back on everything, but his mind blanked. They said your entire life flashed before your eyes before you died, but his never came back to unfold itself again to him. Instead, all he could see was a blurry rendition of Ema’s sorrowful face.

It was as though seeing her so torn over his demise was what prevented him from exhaling his last breath. He didn’t want to die, far from it: he at least wanted to see Aoi become an adult, date a boy or a girl he would be overly suspicious about like a strict father only to warm up to them when he’d see how much they cared about his sister, graduate college and go on to have a life he hoped would be even more successful than his. He wanted to make sure she wouldn’t become like him: a workaholic figure that should have been there and wasn’t, who would come home late and get scolded by his own hired huntress for running himself to the ground. He wanted to see his sister become a great woman, to see her continue doing what she wanted, to save the world like she was already doing with Soulburner and Playmaker.

And he wouldn’t be there to see it, and it broke his heart to even think about.

 He would miss Aoi for sure, but he would also miss Ema and her cheeky smile. They had known each other for years, meeting through the Internet like so many people did around him. He didn’t want to see her go anytime soon, thus why he continued hiring her to the very day he was shot and killed. He simply didn’t expect today to be that day, and that she’d cry over him. For such an independent woman who disposed of data that could ruin people’s lives like she’d give out papers in the streets for some association or other motive, she was incredibly emotional and shaken by it. He’d have thought death didn’t affect very much and that he was, to her eyes, yet another hirer, yet another temporary boss.

Ema was who he wasn’t, and he loved her for this. Her mischievous spirit was always amusing to see in action, always coming up with new ways to trick others into fulfilling her objectives. It was this capacity to always have the upper hand over others that fascinated him at first. He had eventually grown to appreciate most aspects of her: her smile, her winks, her sisterly instincts about Aoi. He knew he could trust in her when everyone else would have dismissed her as shady and traitorous. It was more complex than that: she chose who she was loyal to, and he was lucky enough that she was loyal to Aoi and him.

 He didn’t want to see Ema go. If he could, he would have selfishly made it so she would remain with him until he gave out his last breath, but he was still aware help was coming. The scent of her flowery perfume was the only thing keeping him from gagging over the stench his blood constituted in his nose, a smell of copper and iron fought against by the spice of flowers that simply matched her personality perfectly. Maybe he actually was in love with her. Well, why the maybe? He was in love with this cyber Amazon, completely infatuated with everything she was; and he was lucky enough to be dying in her arms and not anyone else’s.

He never thought he’d see her cry over someone’s death. It just didn’t seem like an “Ema thing” to do. At best, he was hoping she would ask him how he was seeing his hand covered in red, but instead she caught him in his fall and gently laid him on the ground. This was awfully considerate of her: most people he had worked with before would have run away for their lives instead, either fearing losing it directly or losing their freedom by getting involved in a murder. At least, he knew she would watch over Ema for him once he’d be dead, which was just waiting any second to finally decide itself to happen. He didn’t want to die now, but if he had to… then be it.

 “Akira…?” Ema asked him, voice full of uncertainties and hiccups.

“Yes…?”

“Why did you do that, you fool?!”

Oh. There was this question again. She had asked him before, but he had been unable to reply because of blood getting out of his system. The haemorrhage still hadn’t stopped: he didn’t expect it to. The burning pain in his chest was quieting down because his senses were failing on him one by one.

“Obvious… To save you…”

“And why that…?” The newfound fervour in her voice was gone again, much to his chagrin.

“Because I…”

It wouldn’t get out. He was still timid to tell her. It’d make us feel worse anyway, would it not? She’d understand it was also personal between them. He didn’t want her to get any strings attached to him in his last moments. That would be a heartless thing to do.

“I wanted to… see your smile again…”

 Before she could properly hear him, his voice dimming down and eventually dying out, sirens had filled the scenery and so had red and blue lights, blinding him and hiding her. He’d never know if she ever heard him or if she had ever known of the true nature of their relationship to him. He’d never seen her smile again, or Aoi and her grow close, or even Aoi grow up and become an adult. His life had never flashed before his eyes: it was for the better, because this way he could hope to watch over them from the potential plane that was the afterlife.

Oh, how ironic of him to hope such a place existed now that he was on the verge of dying!

 His vision turned black before he could hear Ema scream for his name, repressing back a sorrow before fully letting herself sulk down into despair.

  When he opened his eyes, everything was white around him. Was that the afterlife so many religions professed the existence of. Maybe. That wouldn’t be the first time he’d be proven to be wrong, after all. Everything felt toned down: his sight was blurry, he could barely hear anything that wasn’t his own laboured breathing (or was it? Did people still breathe in the afterlife? Wasn’t that just a necessity of the body?), and his sense of touch was numbed. If afterlife started by not being able to move, then perhaps it would have been better not to access it.

It took him a few minutes to fully realize he was, against all odds, still alive and simply under sedatives. The blood loss he must have suffered was massive considering how slow he felt, as if every part of his body was made out of the heaviest metal. Moving anything seemed to be an egregious effort. Well, it was already a surprise that he was alive, he couldn’t be too capricious about how he wanted to make it out of there alive. He supposed he still had time to write his will, after all. Maybe he should do that as soon as possible since he had so nearly avoided death today. Or was it even today?

 The surrounding sounds were extremely mechanical: if he had to guess, he’d say there were a heart monitor, a machine helping with his breathing and an IV dripping. The contents? Most certainly blood, perhaps other nutrients. He was too numb to know if he had one or two pipes inserted inside his wrists. A voice soon enough came to his ears, a bit cottoned down but still a relief to hear again.

“Big brother, you’re awake…!”

Aoi’s timid voice was filled with a relief he had never heard coming from her. He had scared her too… But she was there, her hand on his, fingers enlaced in his, a heat he could progressively feel. Ah, he had missed his sister so much in so little time.

 There was another hand, this time on his forehead. After giving his dear Aoi the slightest smile (yet the only one he was able to give her at the moment), he lightly tilted his head to the left to see Ema’s eyes and face washed away in relief, dried trails on her cheeks, but with a smile he could only guess was heartfelt. The weight that had been on his chest since a time he didn’t know how to estimate had lifted as soon as he saw it through his weakened state and senses. He had missed it dearly too.

“Don’t ever do that again… You scared the shit out of us both!”

Her scold had this gentler tone to it, a tone that didn’t want to truly scold him away, as if gently reminding him not to almost die in her arms again. He’d miss them both too much to do so once more anyway.

 The last thing before Morpheus’s arms came back to pick him up was her emotional smile and tears of joy, reminding me of how much he wanted to keep seeing her, to keep hiring her until he would find the bravery to tell her that he truly loved her as more than an efficient treasure huntress. Perhaps he could, one day, make of the three of them a complete family.

But for now, needless to say, it was time to give himself a way to sleep the weakness off.

#vrains #vrainsrarepairweeks #hireshipping #akira zaizen #ema bessho #aoi zaizen #My writing #angst warning #character death warning #(well almost)

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Life Story Part 74

I found it harder and harder to focus on reading like I had in the past after my attacks. I would just stare at the page, or sometimes have trouble identifying with the dialogue in the story. I don't know if I picked up some overrated literature or if something in me was just different. I felt quite dead inside. I closed in on myself even harder. I rarely left my cold, dimly lit bedroom. There were certain thoughts I monitored myself not to have. I didn't go outside at all anymore unless it was very dark out. Allison and David would hang out with me, we would walk down to the pop machines and buy cans of soda if we could afford it. I spent more time hashing out my manga story. I still tried to make art when I could. I wrote Sarah often. But a good deal of my life at this was hiding. I felt broken, and I didn't even want to identify with anything that would wind up hurting me more.

I remember it being a fairly cold winter that year. I attempted to sleep as much as I possibly could. Nothing seemed worth being awake for anymore. I felt like a total loser – now back in Kendrick as though I had never even left. A part of me was starting to resign myself to the reality that I was never leaving. It was a bitter pill. Sometimes life seemed gray and blurry. I suppose I could have stayed living with Maria, or I could have chosen to stay with my grandma. But I hadn't. I had put on a lot of weight. I've heard people who have always been thin their entire lives, how people let themselves get overweight. Let me say – it's amazingly easy given you have the right DNA and life circumstances. Unless you are naturally hyper and love eating raw cucumbers all day, it can happen to anyone. And when you don't feel like there is anything in life that is meaningful or good and you have lost all hope, but you don't have drugs or money or transportation and suicide is too frightening to actually go through with, food is an outlet. Not that I ate that much – at least not by comparison to how I ate as a teenager. I really didn't need to eat that much anymore to gain weight. My metabolism was shot.  I didn't feel good. The skin all over my body became covered in these bumps. I don't know why, though my guess is it had something to do with my endocrine system falling apart. Maybe it was because I was developing lactose intolerance.

Sarah went and saw Tom Waits live. It would be his last tour – for Orphans. She described it as this amazing experience – one of the best things she had ever seen in her entire life. His stage set was like this moving dilapidated carousel. When he stomped his feet billows of dust rose from the ground into the air. I now and forever will be jealous of her for having this opportunity. Tom Waits is my favorite. I didn't love him as much then as I do now, but I can listen to Tom Waits for days on end and it never gets old.

I often times would write to this website that may or may not exist still, called Elderlywisdomcircle. Basically, it's a bunch of volunteer elderly who try to give you advice about life problems for free. You just write a letter to them, and someone will get back to you within a few weeks. I would often write to them about how my father was preventing me from leaving by not helping me get a Social security card, about Roxanne and her drug use and her marriage to Jeremy, how depressed and isolated I was, how I was afraid to feel things because if I let myself feel things I would go insane and lose what little grounds I had in the world, about my brother. I don't know what I expected to find. I guess it was my grounded version of prayer. It was something to look forward to I guess, as I thought that maybe someone might have the answers to the issues I was facing. Out of all the letters I received back from my issues however, I essentially got little conclusive response, and only one of them seemed really legitimate. They always told me that I wrote well. They would basically tell me to seek help – though they also had to contest that I didn't live in a state or an area that was really generous about giving out help. A few of them were very religious and they told me that I needed to pray more. One cantankerous responder told me that I was essentially to blame about every bad thing that had ever happened to me, and I needed to take control over my life. The nuance in their professional opinion was that I was a bit on the pathetic side. They would always link me up with a suicide hotline.

David was in Hastings one day in the book section. David was beginning to read a lot independently, and I had shown him the places in Hastings that sold the classics and how to search the novels. As he was examining the selection, a stranger walked up to him, a man with a familiar voice. He had a gruff New York accent. He congratulated David for being a reader, that there weren't too many kids in these modern times who read anymore and it was very refreshing to see a young man such as himself choosing to do so. David nodded politely. Later on, David put a face and name to the guy. He was Michael Savage, the conservative nationalist political commentator that my father sometimes listened to. For whatever reason he had been in Moscow Idaho. Which is funny because David probably adamantly disagrees with just about everything Michael Savage stands for. I certainly think he's repulsive, and even my father doesn't really care for him anymore, mostly being a listener because he enjoyed the aggression and was amused by the extremism. It would have been so much cooler had the person in question been something more than some regressive asshole.

That New Year's eve, my father went out to drink. I knew he planned on getting totally wasted because he spent a lot of time trying to justify going out that year, when I honestly didn't object in the least, as that seemed like a totally natural thing to do. I didn't really look forward to him drinking however. It made me very nervous. Up that point, he mostly seemed to hold back on his drinking around us – though I knew he was still getting drunk other places. I was just starting to comprehend that part of the reason he was starting to say things that made no sense, or get irrationally emotional, or starting to make good food and then mess the food up by means of some obscure decision that made no logical sense was because he was starting to drink every night.

Allison, David and I stayed up of course, probably snacking and watching Fight Club or the Shawshank Redemption for the millionth time. After midnight came and went, David went upstairs to check in for the night. Allison and I were still up when one am rolled around. I was getting a little nervous that maybe my father had been in some kind of accident, as he said he was going to be home before midnight. So Allison and I stayed up watching an anime show that I wasn't really getting into Wolf's Reign or something like that, I believe it was called. It was around one or so that my father suddenly burst through the door belligerent. And he had this very weird guy with him who had this beautiful Husky with him. They were both so drunk they could barely walk and everything they said was a scream, particularly my father who was ranting in a way that made my stomach hurt with anxiety. My father was professing his undying friendship to this guy in his inebriated state, and this other guy who's voice was nothing but an inaudible display of indecipherable gurgles and croaks would say something back and I couldn't understand. They were both raving about something that had happened at the bar. I had never seen my father this drunk in my life, and I was kind of nervous. For one, he was saying some horrible base stuff about women. And though my father I would say was sexist, he had never really went off about women being easy sluts or being defined primarily by their bodies and if/how those bodies benefited the male gaze.

So I was horrified to be listening to him say probably some of the worst stuff I had ever heard him say. He was ranting on how him and this strange drifter that he met at the bar (Jordan was his name)  were going to go out and get themselves laid that night in gross vivid detail. Even if one night stands were a person's thing, what he was saying and how he approached it was very lewd and offensive. He even joked about them finding hookers. Jordan more or less just went along with whatever my dad was saying, who kept patting his back. The fact that Allison and I were still awake and very aware of how he was behaving didn't really seem to do much to phase him. If anything, he seemed annoyed that the two of us were awake. Then again, he got mad when he heard that David was asleep.

Eventually, the two of them went down to the bar in Kendrick. It worried me that he had been driving. Honestly, as drunk as my father was, he had a DUI coming. I am really opposed to drunk driving. When I hear someone I know has done it I get almost personally offended. How could you put other people's lives in danger like that? You could literally destroy other people's realities simply because you couldn't make plans ahead of time. It's profoundly selfish to me. I wanted to go to sleep, but my heart was racing out of my chest. Jordan left his lovely Husky at the house. The dog was nice overall, kind of serious and distant. I felt like something bad would happen if we didn't stay up. I was in shock, because just when I thought I couldn't lose any more respect, here I was losing even more. Granted, alcohol brings out the worst and pushes that worst a little farther than you would have ever taken it, but I didn't think my father was this pathetic. And it really struck home with me that I didn't like alcohol. I saw it as being extremely destructive.

Eventually they came back, and they were ranting about how the two of them both deserved to fuck some fat ugly bitches. Allison and I looked at each other, grossed out. My father kept saying 'FAT BITCHES' FAT BITCHES' over and over again. Even though I know his mind was completely disconnecting this statement from his own daughter which was me, I felt personally offended and disgusted by this statement. I was fat, and I guess to some people I knew, I was probably considered a bitch as well. I felt there was something really double-horrible about that statement. The nuance being, fat women are disgusting and easy and something that you fetishize and want to both use for sex and violently humiliate. It was around this time when I just figured that if Jordan stabbed him in the night or either one of them choked on their own vomit then so be it. I tried to distance myself from it all, partially to process what I was hearing. He then decided to take his Nickelback collection out of retirement and start blasting it throughout the house – making it impossible for anyone to sleep. I decided that it was probably for the best if Allison and I went to bed. I was extremely tense about the surreal ugliness and the entirely negative vibes that had spoiled an otherwise mundane night.

The next day, Allison and I just stayed in the bedroom until we both just absolutely had to pee come hell or high water. Nobody was up, and the whole feeling of the house was really dead and gray. It kind of scared me a little bit. Outside was frosty and cold and the typical temperature of ten degrees. We walked around the house timidly and distantly. We found David still in his room, more or less confused. David got up in the night at some point and was completely baffled by a random Husky being in the house. David had been phobic of dogs as a little boy until he was eight or so, and seeing the dog in our house messed with him, causing him to question his own sanity a little bit. It would have been slightly funny had the whole thing not already been so appalling.

I could tell by my father's body language when he did come up that he felt ashamed of himself and was sort of afraid to see us. He tried to play it off like the entire thing hadn't happened. Being coy and distant to anything we had to say pertaining to the night before. Jordan was asleep on our couch till the afternoon and he smelled awful. The Husky had literally chewed a good portion of one of the couches to bits. It was totally destroyed. I hadn't even realized that furniture chewing could get that way. There were pieces of our couch scattered all over the house. I had to laugh a bit. I thought it added a nice touch to the absolute chaotic reality of that night. My father ended up driving Jordan back into Lewiston. He didn't seem very warmed up to Jordan like he had in his drunken moments that night. And we never heard from or saw Jordan or his dog again.

My father seemed to deal with his shame by doubling down on us about how the house was messy. It was just his way of feeling some semblance of control when it was becoming clearer and clearer to us all that he had none. Perhaps he suspected mutiny. I suspect he was onto something, because I was tempted not to at all in protest for having to put up being totally disgusted. But Allison and David felt the need to and sitting out would just be putting that much more work on them so I joined in ultimately. It really smelled in the corner of the couch, and we came to discover just what it was. Jordan had vomited out a ton of McDonald's food on the couch, and rather than clean it up, he had flipped over the couch cushion. It was deep in the void of the couch, but it was also sort of poured out over onto the floor, which he had of course taken one of our pairs of shoes to cover up, getting it on the sneakers. Allison was about to clean it up herself. But I said no. Instead, I told my father about the vomit. He just went 'oh' and walked away. I told him we weren't cleaning it up, which was both directly pertaining to the vomit, but just the situation in general. It was tiring and cowardly that he wanted us to be the ones that did the hard work of making our slowly disintegrating family ties work, and all he had to do was pretend consistently that he had done nothing wrong.

He ended up not cleaning the vomit up that night, or the next or the next. So we just stopped sitting on that couch, and we held our breath whenever we walked past that area. We were all painfully aware it was there, but it felt like nobody was allowed to talk about it. When he thought I wasn't around – six days later, he instructed Allison to clean it up for him. I found out about it, and I coached Allison not to. I could see this sort of frustration with it all, and I think she felt like, if she just cleaned it up then the whole negative experience would go away and she could move on. But for me, her cleaning that up was taking it in a way I didn't feel she deserved to have to do.  If she gave into what he wanted, then he would feel better about himself, like he was still in control. I noticed too that he didn't want David to clean it up. He wanted it to be either me or Allison, and there was something very telling about that. I felt so belittling to make her have to do something like that. I felt like the mere act of having to do something like that was the kind of thing that ruins a young girl's self worth. Allison felt like I was holding onto the past, and the best thing to do is mindlessly scrape up the mess of yesterday, be it hers or someone else's and start out anew. It spelled a difference in how we coped with life I guess. I believe in quiet protest and  have issues with authority that does not respect me, and Allison takes on responsibility that isn't something she should have to, and in doing I think she finds herself in a position where she feels she has more control over any given situation whereas I am more likely to bury my own grave due to my defiant attitude – but ultimately feel like I was more true to myself as I walk away.

Ultimately, in this situation, Allison didn't clean up the puke however, since for one, she really didn't want to. She was afraid at this point that cleaning it up would just ultimately cause her to puke, and secondly, I promised her that if she didn't clean the puke up and our dad had problems with that, I would personally jump in and my father could scream and freak out at me rather than her. I really didn't want Allison to have to clean it up, and just the thought of it made my blood boil. So she cleaned around it. My father was on the phone at that point with one of his online girlfriends and he was bragging about himself in this way that he always did. Allison asked if things were clean enough and he pointed to the corner of the couch. I looked him straight in the face and told him with factuality but not without some bit of attitude that that was Jordan's vomit and he needed to clean it rather than her. He was on the phone and I think my statement embarrassed him, so he said 'FINE RENEE' and then explained to his phone girlfriend that his eldest daughter was basically having hormonal issues and freaking out at him for something for no reason. The crazy in me thought of ripping the phone out of his hand and explaining to Jane Doe that he was trying to make his thirteen year old clean up this homeless guy's vomit on the couch from a week previous, but I thought better of it. He ended up cleaning it up a day or two later with some strong chemical soap, and a shampooer.

I guess things were building for me with my dad. The hurt I had felt was starting to turn into disgust. I don't remember at all how this fight went. I probably told him he cared about his online women more than he did his own family. He resented me because everyone in the household respected me more, including himself. Over the years I had been there for Allison and David and he hadn't. I had gained respect, and he had lost respect. He was threatened by me – not that I wanted his position in the house. I wanted out but couldn't get away on account of him. And I saw through him, and knew his vulnerabilities. Both of my parents, despite everything, considered me to be their best friend in their own individually weird way. I guess it's because I was curious about who they were. The older I have become, the less I tried to see them as the power structure I was meant to rely upon and I became curious about how they functioned. So when they did something really messed up, they would get insecure about me judging them – because I had seen what it was like for them behind the veil. And this sometimes threw my father in a rage, particularly when he personally felt like a failure.

I don't think he dealt with anything that had happened to him properly. He was messed up by the death of Patty, the death of his mother, the police investigation and being eventually long-distance-dumped over and over again. The more I lived around him, the more I realized that almost none of this was about me at all. He just hates himself that much and isn't emotionally stable enough to recognize or acknowledge his own failure without flying off the handle so his everyday life is this repetitive factory floor induced circular attempt to draw people and activities into his life that will distract him from himself, and when that fails he loses his fucking mind. And at times, I wondered why he hated himself to begin with. He was granted, not the best person in the world, but most of his flaws were in direct relation to how he responded to his own self loathing, which kept the cycle ongoing and out of control, and it ruined every relationship he ever had with anyone in his life – and this was why he had doubled down on preventing me from leaving. He felt like if he lost me he lost the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. I don't see my father as a sociopath. The few people I have met who also know him see him as a part time total fuckface, but also someone who has legitimately the best of intentions with most of what he starts off doing. Just a very flawed person, and an emotional coward who used anger, and dominance to subjugate anything in his outer world that might challenge him or made him feel disappointed in himself. And as it happened, I have a challenging personality. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Of course, eventually, we are all nails sticking up in my father's world. He can't keep anyone around.

During this fight, I felt this flash of certainty. For years, I felt like he just pretended that nothing bad. I always felt this weird urge to walk up to him and punch him in the face and walk away for no reason. I didn't understand how he could go along as if nothing had happened, that he hadn't beaten me as a teen, forced me to babysit and essentially do half of a parent's work, or neglected my needs, or kicked me out for allegedly being gay. Since the fight was on anyway and something I wouldn't be able to walk out of unscathed, since I was afraid I might have a panic attack if I didn't keep myself focused and angry during this altercation, and since I had always wanted to call out the elephant in the room, I just decided to tell him for the first time what he had done to me as a teenager, specifically the day he had taken me home and beat me. So as he was screaming at me – telling me I was a spoiled brat – me in all my one of two oversized t-shirts and pajama bottoms who was lucky to afford seventy-five cents twice a week to go down to the pop machine and get a pop, burst out and asked him why he had given me a fat lip and bruises on my arm in high school. He looked honestly mystified for a moment and really put off – and started saying WHATTTT?. I reminded him of the circumstances, and I saw something weird snap in his face with guilt and then contort into this look of denial like some grand moment in a theater performance. He was still yelling, and then kind of stammering, and then I asked him again. He suddenly began wailing and screaming. It was kind of an attack at me and it was a bit scrambled to me. He then started screaming LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I HATE MYSELF!!!!!  I WANT TO DIE!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!! I HATE MYSELF!!! I HATE MYSELF!!!! I HATE MYSELF!!! over and over again. He sounded entirely deranged and broken. His eyes had sort of blanked out, and I don't even feel like he was seeing anything around him anymore I just stood there dumbfounded. I had never really gotten to this point in an argument before. He continued to yell this even as I got my coat on and my shoes and decided to leave the house for awhile and I could hear him as I walked up the street.

I had always thought that making my parents realize what they had done to me would bring some closure for me, or some satisfaction. I felt pushed down and weak, and they always came out the strong winners. Perhaps if the roles were reversed? As a little girl, I used to believe that before God let you into heaven, he made you watch a movie of your life and wired you up to the movie so you felt every emotion you made someone else feel. Whenever I got upset, if Roxanne pulled my hair or I was sent to my room or whatever, I would cry and then sit in bed and imagine this scenario until I felt like the world made sense again. I imagined God grabbing my parents or sister with his big hands (I imagined he was King Triton from Little Mermaid). He would force them to make eye contact when they looked away in shame, and the eye contact would be fierce and they would learn their lesson. It was of course a testament to my sensitivity as a child, as well as my early onset of a God complex of sorts and egotism, but also my need for a sense of understanding and equilibrium to exist. I had gone for years thinking that karmic justice would make me feel better. When I had seen my father confronted with his own deeds, it broke him. And I didn't really feel the way I thought I would. He seemed mentally unwell, disconnected, and ultimately weak. He seemed small to me, and scared – a creature too dumb to comprehend it's own actions. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. If God held him down and forced him to watch his life-movie, he probably would have blown his brains out. He was an irresponsible coward, and there was nothing I could do or say to change that. I felt disconnected from him, and a little sad for him. How empty it would be to live your life afraid of honest introspection? It would feel so much better just to be honest with yourself. He couldn't humble himself to the slightest insult, and this ultimately limited growth for him. And as he failed to grow as a person, he ultimately decayed.

The realization of this didn't make me feel good at all. I didn't like the power I yielded for those moments of realization. It made me a little bit sad. Not just for him, but for everyone. I guess it was hitting me then that not everyone is emotionally capable of change. Maybe understanding isn't for everyone. You can put stepping stones down for people to follow, and no matter how clearly they are put down, no matter how tiny the step, some people will fall in and drown anyway. I think in this moment my father's position in my life began to alter a little bit. If things were never  going to get better, then I didn't want to hate him anymore. I realized that I had reached a point where I held some virtues and character that he lacked, rendering him the child and me the adult. If he was capable of suicide, then I didn't want to push him over that edge either. He wasn't going to help me forgive him. I was just going to have to forgive him myself – and in so doing I took the personal responsibility out of his hands and some of his credit as a father figure. He was too weak to know better, and if he couldn't be held responsible for his actions, than I guess I was going to have to eat that karmic debt. I believe there was a point at the end of one of Robert Pirsig's books where he talked about just that. And I really understood it at that moment.

Allison and I were sitting on the rocks by the Kendrick bike path at sunset one day. We had taken a walk. Allison was talking absently about school, and I was more or less listening distantly, as it was the kind of stuff that seems important to you as a preteen but actually isn't, like who is dating who or what one girl said about another. It's important to listen to thirteen year olds who talk about this stuff though, because it ultimately is very real to them and a huge growing point in their life. It's also an age that isolates you from both children and adults, and even older teens, and I feel like it's important to understand the spirit of these mundane high school dramas even if the events themselves are mind numbing. I get tempted to blurt out the obvious thing that isn't obvious to a younger generation of girls, 'She should dump him, she's too young for a relationship and even if they do try to have sex it's going to be a disappointing experience', 'that girl is just jealous of the other girl. 'She's probably going to party a whole bunch and then make some serious mistakes. She seems cool now, but her life will be a mess in four years if she doesn't stop' 'That over-the-top cordial Christian boy is going to probably get married when he is twenty and stay married for twenty more years because fundamentalist Christian people are weiiiird..' Just random opinions that I would generally have about whoever she was talking about. It felt strange to be judging all these kids and their little lives back in the school I used to suffer in.

We were sitting there that day though, talking besides the bike path. I was looking out absently at the path, and I started seeing this odd glimmerly form. It looked sort of like a person, but his body movements were completely erratic, like he was wounded and falling. His walking seemed shock induced and senseless, like someone who has just crawled out of bombed building. He looked like he was in agony, and like his leg was messed up. I got up to move, and then suddenly he was gone. I thought perhaps my eyes were playing tricks on me, so I sat back down, and there he was again. I moved again, and he wasn't there, but then I moved to another area and I could see him even more visibly, details in his clothing and facial expression. He seemed to be laboring towards us, but at the same time he wasn't coming any closer. For some reason I wasn't even scared when perhaps I should have been. What I was seeing was something that shouldn't exist. But it didn't seem like it was there on my account in the same way that the voice from my house had screamed my name at me. It was almost like a movie playing in the distance, though obviously more surreal.

I had to interrupt Allison and point the guy out to her. At first she couldn't see him from her position, but then I had her move to where I was, and she could see him too. We both watched him, and just to be clear, we made out his details and clarified it back and forth to one another. He was not aware of where he was. His leg seemed injured. He was extremely dirty, almost like he had been covered in dried mud. He had blonde hair that was also incredibly dirty. He was wearing boots and overalls. His blonde hair was a little longer and spilled out in his face. He looked like someone from another time era. We both just sat there and watched it, and neither one of us was actually scared. We just couldn't believe it. It seemed real and unreal at the same time. I felt badly watching him suffer, but at the same time he almost just seemed like data or something. We watched him for about ten minutes. He started fading and getting harder to see, and eventually he just became this space where he looked more like a mirage than a person and then he was gone. Allison and I walked home. We tried to tell David, but he seemed more confused. David for whatever reason has never had a very ghostly experience in his life. For this reason, when either Allison or I told him stories of things we had both seen (Allison and her best friend Jessica had once watched a hand come out of a door inviting them to come inside with it's finger during a stay-over), and it wasn't that he didn't believe us, but his reality was not the same as ours. He just didn't get it. I think at times he was prone to believe us, and at times he didn't really, but it was hard for him to have the depth of belief necessary to fully take in our experiences since nothing of the sort had ever been present in his own perception.

This incident was something Allison and I occasionally talk about when there are people around. Everyone has opinions of the supernatural and it's entertaining to see the reactions of those who believe us and don't. It really kind of got me though. It would have been one thing if I had been the only one who was seeing it. If that had been the case, I would have doubted my own judgment, though maintained that it seemed real to me at the moment. One person cannot verify anything, even if that one person was myself. But for one, the situation happened for one, at a time when neither Allison or I were scared or stressed. It was still daylight, and we were in a peaceful area talking about far removed subjects. We weren't freaking each other out with ghost stories, or even upset. We were both relatively feeling okay. Secondly, we both had quite a few minutes to study the situation. The mind can play tricks for a few seconds, but it's much harder to really have those kinds of moments when you have time to reflect on it, particularly if you aren't scared. And we were verifying things with one another like a few curious scientists when it happened. And third, we both saw it. We both saw it for several minutes.

So, from this experience, I have to gauge that life and reality is not what we think it is. I don't want to sound like the monologue in the beginning of Tales From the Darkside or the Twilight Zone' but really what we saw should have been impossible. There was nobody there. And yet there was. The way I see it, we were either getting a glimpse into the past, or some alternate reality. That felt the most true for what we were looking at. He had no idea we were there, and there were only certain angles where we could see him at all. And why were we seeing him? Why weren't we seeing a past that was nothing but the trees? Because we were almost exclusively seeing this guy. Well, maybe our thoughts and feelings leak into the world around us. Maybe those feelings stain reality. I have no idea of knowing if that is true or not, but it might make sense for those who get strange feelings at places like Gettysburg. We were seeing something that was either happening in some other dimension, or seeing something that had already happened. Why Allison and I were tuned into it is very strange – seeing as we aren't seeing past car crashes being relived on the sides of roads. This isn't some daily Sixth Sense thing for either one of us. Why did this present itself to us exactly? I can only think it's because we were in the right time and place, and we were in some collectively correct state of mind where we were open to it. And I think the fact that this person – whoever, or wherever he was, was suffering a great deal.  

This notion is something I have really taken to. It makes me see the world in a different and much more poetic way. Places come to life with the feelings we have on them. The events of our existences create a show on all that is around us, and essences of our existence can be felt beyond time and space.  Some part of me will always be laying in the grass by the creek with Zack  back in 04', I will always be holding my grandmother's hand watching television in some dimensional reality. Every thought I think, everything I do or say, every connection I make with the world around me is being printed into the world around me, the beautiful and the ugly. And together, all of us are creating this complex mosaic and added meaning to every inch of our reality. In essence our thoughts are painting and sculpting what is real – and not vice versa. We are creating art through the act of living and experiencing. And that is a very beautiful thought. I can't say I believe in it to the same extent I believe in the computer screen in front of me, and I think that blind faith isn't the charming characteristic it is made out to be. I couldn't sit at a dinner table with Richard Dawkins and expect to be taken seriously. But I know there was something to this, and this is my number one suspicion about life. I think people have vibrations that transcend everything we understand. Is there a reason behind this or any concrete way to prove my theory? No. But I see a place on the sidewalk, and I don't just see that place. I see it as a place where people went back and forth to work on, children played and drew chalk on, drunks vomited on, people held hands on. It's not just a chunk of concrete shaped along the earth. It has taken on and transcended it's utilitarian purposes. I don't just see that as symbolic. I see it as very real. I realize that there are flaws in this thinking, and I also realize it's painfully human and self important in a universe that pretty much demonstrates human beings as temporary, obsolete, and destructive in a very petty way. And yet, I can't unsee it.

I guess it's remotely just as possible that what we saw was a ghost, or a demon or that reality is just something I make up in my own head. Perhaps the government or aliens implanted the memory into Allison and my collective skulls. Maybe I invented it all in my mind, maybe it's all a matter of accepting solipsism. I don't really think so. I am open minded to anything, but it didn't feel like any of those things. I don't buy the religious implications of an all out demon – and in any way, it wasn't being very good at being a scary demon as neither Allison nor I were overly frightened,  it didn't seem like a ghost but maybe. I highly doubt the government would waste it's time and precious technology on me or my sister – that's more absurd to me than a wiggly reality, and an alien race wasting it's tech on me or Allison for something so meaningless and also seemed equally if not more ludicrous. Though the world could be something I invented in my own thoughts, I really doubt I am capable of that. I just don't think I could create quantum physics and write millions or songs or secretly understand how the universe operates but just fool myself that I am not capable so there is still an element of surprise to living. It just feels like I would do something a little more interesting that waste my youth like this. It's quite possible we are living in a simulation of some kind – which is one of the more probable suggestions I have heard of, but if that is the case, it doesn't really stamp on my previous ideas about reality. And it was still equally just as much of an anomaly.

PART 73 - https://tinyurl.com/y6vy2jeu

PART 72 - https://tinyurl.com/yaegqs9x

PART 71 - https://tinyurl.com/y6v3ln9a

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-70 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far). 

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-70

#text #life story

[renny-lithium]

y'all wanna know something that's completely fucked up?

i'll tell you, here goes.

when i was in secondary school, i hung around with a couple of girls i considered to be my best friends.

here's the fucked up thing - i never realised it until after i stopped hanging out with them, but they didn't even consider me their FRIEND. to them i was just 'that weird girl' that hung around with them, because we'd been 'friends' since primary school.

you wanna know how i realised this? various things.

for future reference, i will refer to them as S and E.

the one thing that stands out to me is this one time when i got put into a group project with S, and her reaction was to complain about everyone she'd been dumped with - including me. i was standing a foot away from her, staring at her, while she complained about being put in a group with ME. she later asked if she'd done something wrong, because i was suddenly keeping the fuck away from her and not talking to her or E, and i told her "you made me feel like i'm unwanted" and her reaction was basically "get over it".

another thing is how they treated me, aside from that incident.

here's a bit of trivia about myself - during year nine, when i was like 13 or something, i was selectively mute. no one actually bothered to do anything about it until the teachers noticed me using my made-up sign language to talk to someone, but you wanna know how my so-called 'best friends' reacted?

they ignored me. more or less pretended i didn't exist even though i was right there, and if i ever did force myself to speak (i often pretended i had a sore throat just to avoid having to speak) they acted like they never even heard me. also, whenever i got out of class before them, i ALWAYS waited for them. because i wanted to walk with them, because they were my friends, and i didn't like walking alone.

wanna know what they did? they didn't do that.

one time i specifically remember asking them if they could please, please wait for me after class, because i hate walking alone in a sea of people who hate me for no reason, and they said they would - cut to the end of class and they walked out, i expected them to be waiting outside, but they were already long gone before i get out of the classroom.

there was also the way they treated my other friends, ones i made without their 'help' or introduction. there was this kinda lonely girl who i'm gonna call SO, and at some point i guess i introduced her to my so-called 'friends'. this one time i was sitting with my so-called 'friends', without SO there because she was doing whatever, and they were talking shit about her.

i don't remember exactly what it was they said about SO, but what i clearly remember is them suddenly realising that i was sitting RIGHT FUCKING THERE and they turned to me and said 'don't tell SO we said any of this'. like they were threatening me.

at that point i began to wonder if they talked shit about me behind my back, cus if they did it to someone who actually cut herself on a regular basis and silently suffered an abusive public relationship with a dick that didn't deserve to exist, what were they saying about me?

one more thing - i was bullied literally all the time at school. it got to the point where i would actually try to fake illnesses or use the first one or two days of my period as an excuse to actually not go, out of fear of being bullied and humiliated every five minutes by everyone, even complete strangers, who knew about me only because i was 'that weird girl that's an easy target for everyone'.

no one ever stood up for me. not even SO, but i can forgive her, because she had far too many issues of her own to deal with - but S and E had no such problems. Their lives were, in comparison to mine and SO's, absolutely perfect.

and yet, even when i was being bullied RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, they never did anything to defend me. i was basically incapable of defending myself, purely because i knew that if i tried i'd only make it worse (though on a few awesome occasions i got pissed off enough to physically attack whoever was bullying me, or i would just simply walk out of the classroom even if the lesson had only just started).

so basically my so-called 'best friends' didn't give a single solitary fuck about me, and i'm ashamed to admit that i never figured this out until year eleven, when i was 15, and i stopped hanging around with them.

i thought my life would change when i stopped hanging with them, but guess what? it didn't. everything was still the same, i was still getting bullied every day, i occasionally had relapses into selective mutism and no one gave a fuck, i also tried to fake illnesses to get out of school, but you wanna know what actually did change?

as i began to look back on how my 'friends' had treated me, i began to get angry. not angry enough to actually do something, like when i would attack someone or walk out of the classroom, but the kind of burning anger that's incredibly dangerous because there's nothing you can do about it and the people responsible aren't even aware that it's their fault or that they've even done anything wrong.

so basically S and E ruined over half of my life and they probably didn't even notice or care.

i made a promise to myself that i would never, ever speak to them ever again - and i almost kept that promise, except for one incident during sixth form when, surprise surprise, S was in the same tutor group as me and she tried asking me for some help with something.

i don't think she even knew why i was glaring at her.

this story has a bittersweet ending, actually.

fast forward to now, and i've switched from sixth form to college (and lemme tell y'all that was the best decision i ever made in my entire life). i'm now in second year, halfway through, and basically everyone in the class is my friend. even those i don't particularly know very well, i consider them my friend - because we share common interests, and they actually don't bully me.

here's the bittersweet part - i'm waiting for them all to turn on me. i'm waiting for that one moment where i fuck up, and suddenly i'm the target for bullying once again.

i also have a friend who i consider to be my best friend ever, but i'm not sure if he considers me to be his best friend (i know he considers me a friend at least, otherwise he wouldn't let me follow him around like a lost puppy half the time). when class ends and it's time to go home, i'm usually out of the classroom before him, and i've sworn to myself that i'd never abandon anyone the way S and E did, especially if i think of them as my best friend.

sometimes, though, he's out of class before me.

and he always waits, unless he needs to be somewhere, in which case he actually he tells me beforehand and i'm happy to walk to the bus station without him.

but i never asked him to wait for me, because i assumed that he wouldn't bother. i assumed - and still do assume - that he's gonna walk off and abandon me like S and E did, because even if i ask, no one wants to wait for me.

but he does. he waits. and i continue to be amazed at that, even after an entire year and a half.

oh, and another thing - and this is actually a really nice thing.

you know how i said i went selectively mute in year nine? i forced myself to get over it the next year because i didn't like going to the school's shit version of therapy (which did nothing except make me realise that it'd be easier to pretend i was okay rather than actually be okay).

over the past few months i've been going through some very, very tough family shit, and i'm always switching between 'terrified as fuck' and 'too tired to care anymore'.

it has nothing to do with college, but i've gone back to being selectively mute again.

the reaction of all sixteen of my friends? they're actually nice about it. if i speak, they don't patronise me and they actually listen to me. if i don't, and i use some other means of communication, they will make genuine attempts to understand me and they don't act like it's a chore for them.

one memorable occasion was before christmas, and there was this guy from another class using the macs in our classroom to get his work done - one of my classmates introduced him to me, and said "she's a bit quiet, but she communicates in her own way", and all i could think was "now THAT'S how you do it".

they're all also genuinely concerned about the reason why i've suddenly gone absolutely silent when, the previous year, i was basically the craziest person in class.

i love these people. they're my friends, my real friends - but i'm burned by my past experiences with people who i also called 'friends'.

i'm still waiting for them to decide i'm not worth their time and that it'd be easier to laugh and point at me rather than try to help me. i'm still waiting to be abandoned by my new and real best friend, who i believe just tolerates my presence.

so, everyone, you're probably wondering - what was the point in me pouring out my heart like this?

i'll tell you.

i've realised that i'm not the only person who this kind of shit happened to. i'm not the only one who was constantly being left behind by people who were supposed to be their friends.

so i'm writing this, even though i'm not very well known by anyone on Tumblr, and i'm hoping it gets reblogged enough for people to look at their fellow students or even co-workers, and wonder 'how do their friends treat them?'

or maybe it's enough to make people realise that they're the ones this is happening to, or maybe give them enough courage to say 'fuck you' to their supposed 'friends' and walk away with their heads held high.

or alternatively, if you don't want to say it because you're too scared or too shy, just walk away and never speak to the abusive bastards ever again.

this shit can damage people forever. it can and will lead to suicides and pure depression.

it's not okay. stand the fuck up, everyone - those who see it happening, those who it's happening to, just . . . fucking everyone, stand up and tell the bullies and 'friends' to go and fuck themselves with a mace or something.

Renny, out.

#bullying #bully is not okay #fake friends #and i mean actual fake friends #abandonment #i have serious issues and i can't do shit about it #selective mutism #making a stand #hoping this gets thrown around so people can fucking see it #bittersweet

[ninjagoat]

Notes on Supergirl 3x09

There's a good chance I might end up being facetious this episode. See if you can guess where.

So, it's the next day after Wake Up? When did Crisis happen?

We talk about bad writing on the show a lot (and believe me, we WILL be discussing it a lot today), but I want to talk about how Mon-El describes the future:

"Technology has developed beyond imagining; but at the end of the day, it's still in service of communicating with each other, and entertaining each other, and also killing each other. In this day, or in a thousand years, conflict is constant. But so is strength." The repetition, the cadence; this is a man who has given so many rousing speeches as a leader that they invade his regular conversation. It's so different from how he used to speak, and it's a lovely piece of work.

Kara's Best Friend Winn - who spent two days with a police scanner and a sewing machine helping her become a superhero, when even Alex didn't want her to be one - being tickled pink by Imra not knowing what phones are is nice.

Amy Jackson is from the Isle of Man, if you were wondering what that accent is. It's its own thing, but the Youtube videos aren't usually this... breathy.

Mon-El was basically the 31st Century Apostle of Supergirl. I'm here for it.

And for Imra's hero worship.

It's a good thing he turned down your invitation, Kara. Things might have gotten awkward, what with Lena being there and all. Or perhaps not. Who can say?

Can we have a ship war between Kara/Food and Alex/Booze soon? I think we're due a ship war that makes sense.

"Crone Buddies"? What happened to the realisation there must be someone else for you Alex? It was just last week/yesterday/possibly an alternate time-line.

I'm getting bored with Danvers Sisters time, to be quite honest. Yes, you're going to support each other through this. We know. Talk it through with someone else, Kara. Perhaps your Best Friend, Winn (who one time requisitioned an entire Catco office and server just so you would have a base of operations at work)?

Look, relationships are the only thing James Olsen has ever been shown to be bad at, so can you two hurry up? I wanna know how he's going to screw up a good thing this time.

I want to love this scene with J'onn/M'yrnn/Kara's Best Friend Winn - who once served as a buffer between Alex and Eliza at Thanksgiving while Kara basically ignored him in favour of her not-boyfriend, who called her from a romantic getaway with his actual girlfriend - but I know it's all a ploy to keep him away from Lena, and thus avoid pesky questions like, "So, how do you know the analyst from the clandestine government agency that helped me out with those things those times?"

Unpopular opinion: American Christmas songs are almost universally shite.

I should also point out that, since Lena knows he is DEO, Kara's Best Friend Winn - who once committed treason on Alex and Kara's behalf after Kara invoked his difficult relationship with his father - is the only person currently in this room that is not concealing a secret identity from her.

I'm just gonna stop having headcanons. I keep thinking of ways the show could mine conflict from the scenarios they've created, and the show doesn't then do it badly, so much as ignore it entirely. I actually burst into tears once because I thought up a thing where Kara tells Winn he can't come to the Christmas party because Lena knows he's DEO and it would raise too many questions. I would actually prefer that to this version. At least it would be a story point then.

Wait. Hang on. Are they trying to tell us that Wake Up happened on Dec. 22nd? Because... seriously, what?

Alex, you can't just steal a child, even if you are great with her; so stop thinking about it. Who said this 'wanting to be a mother' thing was out of character?

I like the choice that Lena would make weak excuses for why she can't just go for it with James. Putting your last boyfriend out of his misery by deactivating the nano-bot swarm he's comprised of must be a tough act to follow.

A funny thing about chemistry that's "off the charts"? It can't be measured.

A rhyming scene of James and Winn on the other side of the room having *their* version of this conversation would have gone a long way.

This is literally the fourth episode of eight you've spent time with Sam, Kara. It's not like she's one of the Barton Bellas.

"I've always had Alex, and she has my back, but-" Sorry, NOW TV keeps cutting the sound there, so I don't know how the sentence ends. I'll presume it's something along the lines of, "If you don't want to date someone who works for you, do you remember my Best Friend, Winn? Really smart, you saved the world together that one time? And at your party? Hates your mom? Remember? Look, he's rocking that Christmas sweater!"

(And he's clearly single, since his girlfriend of 44 weeks isn't here)

I cannot imagine how difficult blocking this scene was, if J'onn has to come up to Kara in front of the friends that don't know she's Supergirl and say she has to leave her own party on Dec. 23rd. I'll assume this scene was written by the Buffoon.

VASQUEZ! You have returned to us! From where-ever it was!

The Symbol is Kryptonian? What were the odds?

I get the feeling that 'if we don't know it, it can't be known' is a common attitude from Krypton. Kinda... snobby, wouldn't you say?

And since we, the audience, already know the Symbol is Kryptonian, why are we sending James and Lena on this wild goose chase?

Speaking of which, why would Morgan Edge burn a symbol into your corn-field, Lena? Explain the logic. While you're at it, why would you go see him about it? What is he going to tell you?

And by saying "I will go with you," as opposed to "This plan is stupid," we've got a solid idea of why there were no 'James helps mentor Kara as a reporter' stories last season.

A two minute scene solely to remind us that Morgan Edge exists. Yay.

Get Prince's name out of your filthy mouth.

"I'm here just to make sure you remain civil." You know what else would have achieved that James? Not going at all.

Here's the thing. It's Reign. We know it's Reign. There is no mystery here. THIS IS NOT HOW MYSTERIES WORK.

THE ALIEN BAR! Still lacking in visibly alien aliens. Bloody gentrification.

Dude, just put lobsters down on the floor if you're gonna do this ribs shit (given the platform, this is probably a one-percenter joke).

Look! Kara's Best Friend Winn - who quit his good job at a global media empire so he could help Kara with superheroing full-time (you know, right before Kara considered moving to Metropolis) - distracting Imra so Kara and Mon-El can talk! What a great Best Friend he is!

I'm gonna say this now: not on board with SaturnNerd, unless it's rounding out Winn's doomed trip through Nerd Fantasy Romance Tropes (the list so far: Kara - Girl Next Door; Siobhan - Mean Girl (To Reform Through Kindness); Lyra - Manic Dream Pixie Girl; Imra - Sexy/Naive Foreign Exchange Student).

You're not at the jokey we-had-fun-didn't-we stage yet, mister.

Creepy Preacher Dude! You're back! And still creepy!

Fort Rozz!

Right, they are clearly establishing Sam as Reign, and Reign as the World-Killer. THERE IS NO MYSTERY HERE.

Sam. Have you never seen a Christmas film before? You know what happens if you work Christmas Eve.

The Christmas story is nice, though. Sam & Ruby are a nice addition to the show.

El Mayarah, brothers and sisters.

'Cip'. Imra's WAAAAAY overplaying this 'foreigner' stuff.

Yep. Break her heart more, Imra. Solid plan.

Sigh. What are you doing going to other hackers, Lena? We know they're gonna be sub-par. Or James should, at least.

For newer, confused viewers, James is a superhero, who has a shield. Winn built it for him. You may not have known this.

This Reign fight is one of the best vampire attack scenes I've ever seen.

Sooooo, we needed Lena and James to visit Edge, so Edge would pick tonight to hire an assassin to kill Lena, so Reign will then target Edge. 'Kay. Oh, and Edge is apparently using Reign as a cover for Lena's 'death'. Except it happens before Reign goes on the rampage. So circular, this logic.

No love in his eyes? Admittedly, Kara's never been good at this.

Edge has a lead-lined panic room. This is the smartest thing he's done yet. Ineffectual mustache twirler.

This week's Jeremy Jordan Award For Doing So Much With So Little goes, unsurprisingly, to Jeremy Jordan; for seamlessly transitioning from sarcasm to serious through repeated use of the word 'No.'

And kudos for Kara's Best Friend, Winn - who once got up in his best clothes and went to a posh party solely to humiliate himself in front of the hostess (the hostess being Lena, who is of course not Kara's best friend, because Winn is Kara's Best Friend) because Kara had gotten herself in a jam - for emphasising that an attempt on Edge's life is only 'objectively' bad. Sticking up for his Sister in Science.

Okay, how late is it on Christmas Eve? Everyone's still at Catco. IT'S A SUNDAY. WHY IS EVERYONE HERE? GO HOME.

I'm not against GuardianCorp, there's a lot of story to mine there in terms of the relationship between Journalism and its Corporate Masters (it's not a marriage made in heaven, nor should it be); but like many things, it depends on execution. With that in mind, there's a few tangible details I want to highlight here:

Firstly, with the exception of letting her call him Jimmy, which is only relevant to a specific section of the audience (casual viewers won't remember why that's a big deal, and longer term fans of the character consider it the default); the nicest thing we've ever seen him say to or about her is that he doesn't see her as an extension of her brother. That seems like a low bar to cross. In fact, I have no idea how James feels about this particular development at all.

Secondly, James hasn't been challenged yet; or at least, it doesn't *feel* like he's been challenged yet. In my notes for 3x02, I wrote of GuardianCorp, "This isn’t a thing that’ll be resolved by him doing nothing until someone else makes the decision for him," but he hasn't actually made any decisions. This story isn't a James story (yet). It's a Lena story, about her taking a chance on him.

(ASIDE: At some point, someone decided that Lena's main flaw would be 'self-doubt' instead of 'hubris', as was previously established in 2x05. I take small comfort in the fact that person is likely no longer employed)

Thirdly (and this last one's much more open to interpretation, so YMMV), Mr. Brooks isn't really pulling his weight here. Ms. McGrath is doing *all* the heavy lifting: she's standing there, giving him full heart-eyes, and he barely seems to notice that it's happening. James could be playing it cool, I suppose; but that's just another way in which I can't relate to James as a character (because HOW? How do you play it cool when she's looking at you like THAT?).

(FURTHER ASIDE: You know who would have been a challenge for James? LYRA. Or, at least, a visibly alien alien. That story would be about James and his perception of himself; having been friends and love interests for 'passing' aliens over the years, why is an ALIEN alien a sticking point for him? Played by a trans actress, preferably, to hammer the metaphor home. It would also have given him a cause to champion at CatCo)

At some point, I should stop doing notes, and just write a damn review. It'd probably be shorter.

Why are all these Christmas parties happening on Christmas Eve?

You know when would have been a great time to do a Christmas episode? Last season, when it was all about the immigration metaphor, and your three non-human characters can all express how they feel about this religious festival they don't belong to.

Love the tone of this office fight (the song still sucks)

Kara's getting the beat-down of her life, and she's still trying to protect others. I love her.

That block and swing is fucking incredible.

AND THEN THE FLAMING DOOR!

Where the hell is this fight happening that James, Lena, AND Edge can be witnesses?

Impressed at how objective Alex is being here. Would like more detailed reaction shots though. Particularly from Kara's Best Friend, Winn.

Imra's very confident about Kara being okay.

Episodes since Winn and Lyra have had a scene together: 13. THIRTEEN. These counts were supposed to be a joke, show. Not a running commentary of despair. Speaking of which...

Episodes since Winn and Lena have had a scene together: 9 (Record high: 16). No, I'm not counting this one. Being in the same location does not a scene make. We'll just have to live with my pain extending to double digits in January.

#notes #superglue #my ineffectual rage

[theveryworstthing]

hey guys, do you want ANOTHER Downtrodden lore post tonight? because i got part two to the gods thing. a basic rundown (i say basic but dang that’s a lot of words) of Pando, the most well known god, and Katah, the most forgotten.  please enjoy.

Pando: the simplified version of the old Lango word for stain. Also a god. Generally kind, often depicted as a buck but sometimes depicted as a doe because who really knows? Very interested in where this whole ‘rabbits as a sapient species’ thing is going. Honestly on the edge of their seat to see what happens next. There have been some real batshit twists so far.

Fun Facts: Pando is the only god with a consistent outward appearance and the only god considered omnipresent. Pando’s godly love is more like extreme interest in the fact that you are a thing that exists. Because wow. Look how far this got! Its very unlikely that he can save you from much since he’s just a record keeper and he’s seen too many dead rabbits to really be affected by it anymore, but he’ll help if he can since he likes talking to people so much.

The Beginning: In the beginning there was the world. There had to be a world already, or there wouldn’t be anywhere for rabbits to exist. And at the time, rabbits didn’t exist. Rabbits came later, when the world probably wasn’t paying attention very hard. So one evening on the island, in the shade of a large tree, in a nest of someone not quite a rabbit, the first rabbits happened.  And the moment there were the first rabbits there was Pando. And Pando looked out from their nest of siblings at the world with eyes and ears impossibly open. And the moment after the moment there were the first rabbits, there was memory.

Thus was born the first rabbit god.

What Happened Because They Happened: Commonly known as the god of recorded life/memory, Pando observes and remembers all of rabbit history and is slated to live forever/up until all this mess is done with. The mythology surrounding them is vast, linking them to the first concepts of survival and love. Survival, because remembering what’s good to eat and what wants to eat you is basic stay alive protocol. And love, because they often spoke of the ability to remember as proof that a love of life and all its wonders was so completely baked into the existence of rabbits from the start. I mean, rabbits couldn’t help but unconsciously absorb even the worst of it on a spiritual level. This sounds like some real celestial so and so but necromancy proves that yeah, you keep those memories even after you misplace all your guts. So while rabbits know that memory problems can be caused by disease or encounters with misjudged doorway heights, most also see it as a spiritual thing and treat it as such.

Pando has a soft spot for the forgotten, whether that be places, stories, or people, and will sometimes grant knowledge of these things by way of dreams. The hope is that some piece of the forgotten be found, re-created, or retold by the dreamer, allowing the memory to live on. They also tweak the conditions in certain areas to help preserve abandoned places or remains, help people restore lost memories, help people decode memories (memory isn’t perfect and despite all the ‘unconscious act of love’ stuff Pando also acknowledges that rabbits do a lot of unconscious acts of editing for info that actually matters/conscious blocking of brain poison), and take memories too painful for the carrier to bear into themselves for sealing away. This power marks them with slowly expanding patches of tangled black fur, each strand made from intertwining lives and events. They can warp their voice into any sound they’ve ever heard, and when they speak, the patches of black fur flow over their body and form scenes from the past. Some stories say they look less like a rabbit, and more like a rabbit-shaped void of white that flickers with dancing black shadows.

Pando, being the first and most well known of the gods, is regarded as the reason that Rabbits have such good ties with their history. Even though much slips through the cracks just by merit of the universe being how it is, rabbits know way more about their past than other cultures. Of course rabbit-kind’s flair for necromancy is a huge reason for this too, but Pando helps.

And lastly, the rage. Because even in a literal nerdlord like Pando there is rage. That’s just how rabbits are. And in rare tales of this rage its said that they can make enemies forget. Forget how to move, forget how to speak, forget who they are. Their curses don’t stop the cursed from re-learning, as erasing memory isn’t their style, but still.

After the first handful, they’ve never really had many enemies.

Katah: simplification of the old lango word for necessity. Also a god. Intimidating and cunning but chill, always depicted as a doe. Loves puzzles and watching her enemies drown in their own blood. Distrusts non-rabbit gods. Kind of Intense.

Fun Facts: Is said to control nearby water/blood. Usually for problem visualization purposes but sometimes for the aforementioned blood drowning. Iconography of her is present at all Frost Tasting festivals since they were originally started by devout followers of hers. Strangely, though Frost Tasting’s meaning has never significantly changed, her connection to it has been lost on some parts of the island due to her lore being heavily edited long ago. These days images of her monstrous form are used as just another spooky tradition instead of the symbol of strength and pure rabbit cussedness that they used to be.

The Beginning: There is no god that created all rabbits, but there were the Mothers. When the mothers gave birth to the rabbits they knew their children were different. They were smaller and weaker, exchanging brute strength for strange powers and quickness. This was before burrows and warrens, and long time enemies of the Mother’s kind would pick their children off as they roamed above ground, killing litter after litter, leaving few kits to survive to adulthood no matter how ferociously they were defended. And The Mothers despaired because their gods wouldn’t help their children, saying they couldn’t have created such strangeness and so they were not responsible for them. And the Mothers were angry about this because what the hell? They and their Mothers before them and before them and before them had always done the heavy lifting vis-à-vis creation anyway, why would the gods start ignoring their children now? And the angriest mother lost so many litters before she gave birth to Katah.

Katah the false. Born with teeth bared. Key for many locks. God of Fucking Doing Something About The Problem.

What Happened Because They Happened: Katah had teeth like diamonds and a body that she could shift in size with the swiftness and fluidity of ocean waves. Her voice was like a storm, ranging from howling winds that carried signals to her people, to cracks of terrifying thunder that set her enemies running. She also had a normal speaking voice when she was rabbit sized but that wasn’t much less terrifying. She was just… generally terrifying.

Anyway.

She did indeed end up doing something about the problem. As soon as she was old enough, she began ripping the throats out of the problem. Back and forth she roamed over her family’s widening territory, pushing back threats and even finding rabbits who shared shades of her frightful magics (her mother was not the only angry mother). Some of these rabbits chose to fight by her side but they were not gods. No matter how ferocious they were, Katah knew the clock was ticking as she watched them fall in battle one by one. So she searched for another way, since Fucking Doing Something About The Problem ideally means creatively working towards fixing it, not just hammering away with one unsustainable solution until you crash and burn. But she needed inspiration, and soon she found some. Half drowned in a cave by the sea.

Bur was not a god, they weren’t even particularly magically gifted, but Bur had noticed that even the god who was trying to manage this mess was having a rough time of it. So they sought their own solution to The Problem by hiding from it in the sea caves. Long story short, high tides are a thing and cunning does not grant one extra buoyancy. Luckily, Katah happened upon them just in time, and while their plan had some obvious busted bits, the whole ‘living somewhere the bloodthirsty predators have a hard time getting to so you don’t have to constantly sacrifice people fighting them off’ thing really struck a cord with her. After bouncing engineering ideas around in between bouts of rending the flesh of those who would challenge her, she and Bur got some rabbits together and those rabbits got to digging. And thus, burrows (originally Bur-Holes but the name never really stuck since everybody hated it except Bur)were created.

Katah’s origin makes rabbits associate her with protection, refusal to accept mistreatment, and fighting in the face of overwhelmingly shitty odds. This makes her the go to god for the abused and oppressed and the first god to be conveniently edited whenever assholes came to power. A LOT of Katah lore has been lost. Even her title has been changed, as she is most commonly known as the God Of Puzzles these days.

Some of her new lore paints her more as an intellectual pushed to her limits and forced to fight rather than a bloody avenger who loved the thrill of battle. Theologists argue which is the truth all the time since some of her old lore occasionally turns up (thanks Pando) but jokes on them, she was smart AND she loved crushing skulls.

One of the reasons that it was so easy to turn the focus of her lore from skull crushing is that many of her exploits have her linked to nurturing creativity, problem solving (of course), and innovation. These attributes are what she’s best known for these days, and many of her blessings involve helping people find answers to life’s many problems. This includes everyone from researchers trying to cure deadly diseases to camouflage minded fashion designers to engineers trying to build better toilets. Sometimes it even includes that one guy who won’t stop trying to make everything he touches shoot flames, but people like that guy are seen as more cursed than blessed(what problem is he even trying to solve????).

Most of her godly duties are consultation based. She comes to those crying into stacks of blueprints or screaming into the night sky about wanting to physically fight cancer with their actual fists and offers up all the info she’s gained over her very long existence (you can’t solve such a variety of problems over thousands of years without learning a bunch along the way). Sometimes she’ll just sit and listen though. Having the opportunity to explain their vision to someone who understands their passion helps a lot of people, and staring down a diamond-toothed god really gets your brain working overtime. No one is sure if that last bit is divine power or just regular fear. What works, works though yeah?

And speaking of fear.

For those with more difficult puzzles, the ones who call to her with bruised throats, the ones who remember her old stories passed down from some random relative, the ones who don’t even know her name but are tired of being broken over and over and reach out for anyone...

The hunted.

The ones who need a problem solved for them.

She’s there with her diamond teeth. She’s there and she doesn’t care if the predator she’s after is in the shape of a rabbit.

There’s a reason some old warren kings made people forget how to ask her to bite.

#rabbits of downtrodden #pando #katah #gods #long post

[2bastardsandabluray]

Suicide Squad is the Worst Film Ever Made

There’s a lot of things you could say about me. I’m tall. I have medium-sized feet. I might be one one hundred twenty-eighth Native American, maybe. These are unshakable character traits that have followed me throughout my life, and will likely continue to do so once I shuffle off this mortal coil and into a cylindrical cardboard urn. Another one of these traits? I despise Suicide Squad.

This film is ass. It reminds me of my ass. When I saw it in theaters, I remember finding it remarkable that someone was able to sneak a camera in my toilet and film my ass for 2 hours and 16 minutes. I had never even been on the toilet that long, unless you count that time in Cleveland wherein I found a bucket of raw goat meat in an alley and resolved to consume all of it in a momentary surrender to pure adrenaline. This resulted in a four-hour shit session in the bathroom of a Church’s Chicken. To reduce the session to a single adjective, I would likely choose “fire hose-esque.”  With this in mind, if Suicide Squad was, indeed, hidden camera footage of my ass on that fateful Christmas Eve, it would have at least had value as pure spectacle. I’m fairly certain I shat out an organ, for instance. The fact that this wasn’t included in the final cut is emblematic of the film’s piss-poor editing decisions. For shame, David Ayer. The studio should have opted for Gaspar Noe.

And indeed, while this omission is unforgivable AT BEST, perhaps even worse is every single other aspect of the film. Let’s start at the most obvious place - Ike Barinholtz’s character of Griggs.

Remember him? For whatever reason, the film saw fit to dedicate what seems like eighty-nine percent of its runtime to him. When we’re first introduced to Will Smith’s Deadshot, for instance, it’s in a scene where Griggs berates him through one of those little prison windows. We leave the scene knowing nothing about Deadshot as a person; only that Griggs is a guard, and he is mean. In the next scene, we’re introduced to Harley Quinn, the character who’s sexy and you wanna fuck with your penis. Griggs walks up to her and says, “Man, you’re hot,” or something. Then he says, “You wanna fuck?” Then Harley swings around on these weird blanket-rope things and goes up to Griggs and says, “Yeah, I love sex and fucking,” and then she licks the prison cell bar because it’s phallic and she’s hot. Then she says, “Oh, Daddy,” or something. Harley is one of the more complex characters in “The Squad,” so it was a good decision to make her really hot and sex-fucky and nothing else. Also great to see Griggs again. Powerhouse scene.

Further down the line, we get another Griggs scene where the Joker ties him to a chair and breathes on him for ten minutes. He goes, “Ooooh-AHHHHHH!” over and over again. Nothing happens in this scene, and it’s thirty-five minutes long. In the next scene, Griggs talks to Harley again and says, “Hey, what’s the Joker gonna do to me?” and she’s like, “Bad stuff! Ha!” and then we don’t see Griggs for the rest of the movie.

Why does this film - 136 minutes of Jared Leto sweating in a Hot Topic - feel the need to build up Griggs so much in its first act, only to forgo him entirely in its second and third? You could literally just have a scene with the Joker salivating in a helicopter somewhere, holding up Griggs’ severed head and smearing the blood on his pecs. That would have completed Griggs’ story arc. It would have had no point, but at least it would have been completed. This film could use at least one completed story arc, and it could have done so with just one severed head. All I want, in the end, is to see Ike Barinholtz’s severed head. Mail it to me, Tumblers. My P.O. Box is 1.

My point, though, is that this film is a disorganized pig orgy in Hell. From what I understand, it underwent countless edits and reshoots, because test audiences never seemed to actually enjoy it. I won’t go into specifics, because I’m a directionless college student writing this in between masturbation sessions, but still. The movie had a rushed, convoluted editing process, and fuck, you can tell. A good example of this is Killer Croc becoming a racist stereotype in the third act for no reason.

“Nah, shawty. I’m beautiful..” Fantastic.

Overall, it just feels like they had, like, three versions of this movie, none of which were good, and then one day, David DC told them they had to edit a new version in one day. Consequently, every single editing decision feels rushed. The intro to each of the characters, for instance, feels like it was written in three minutes, because while we learn the bare essentials of each character, we’re not told enough to give any amount of fuck about any of them. Enchantress, for instance, is an archaeologist who is now a ghost-thing, kind of, and she’s fucking a nondescript white guy who shoots things. I don’t care. 

And let’s talk about the music. There’s something about the use of music in this movie that engenders within me such a visceral hatred for all living things that, while watching this film, I would welcome a nuclear holocaust. It could be because the selection of songs seems to have been done by a DJ for a shitty classic rock station. Another reason, I think, is that I don’t care about anything happening in this movie. The worst use of music in film and TV is always when a song is supposed to accompany an emotion the audience is feeling, and yet the audience is not feeling that emotion. When Seven Nation Army starts playing once The Squad is finally coming together, the movie wants me to think, “Yeah! These badasses are gonna fuck some shit up! Jack White said so!” But I haven’t actually gotten attached to any of them yet, because none of them have had more than three minutes of screen time. As a result, the movie is just playing a hard rock song while people with skin conditions walk and then stand in a circle. That isn’t a combination that should exist.

I could go on and on about this piss cauldron of a film, but writing is largely an unpleasant process and I can only endure so much. My point, though, is that this is just a very bad movie. I think there may be an extra layer of hatred in my case (and likely in the case of many others), because I was really looking forward to this movie. For one, I genuinely think that the Joker is possibly the greatest villain ever portrayed in fiction, and I was interested to see what Jared Leto would do with the role. As a result, the fact that he was made into a malnourished Marilyn Manson with two minutes of screen time was a really huge shame. For another thing, I’m always interested in movies and TV shows with morally grey protagonists, and a mainstream film starring a literal group of these people definitely piqued my interest. I probably shouldn’t have been expecting much, but I would’ve liked more than what amounted to the bad acid trip of a man with ADHD at a Twenty One Pilots concert.

The one saving grace of this movie, however? Slipknot - the man who can climb anything. It’s honestly no wonder that he took America by storm like he did. 2016 will always be remembered as the year of Slipknot Mania, and rightfully so. Climb on, brother. Climb on.

- Max

#suicide squad #movies #review #terrible #essay

[joejstrickl]

Growth Story: 5 Questions With Lexus VP Cooper Ericksen

The Lexus RX originated the luxury SUV category two decades ago and arguably has remained the gold standard ever since. Lexus kept improving the smooth, comfortable mid-size nameplate over the years and increasing its alphanumeric designation from RX 350 to RX 450, and it’s got the best reputation in its class.

But finally something happened in the market that prompted Lexus to make the biggest change ever in its RX lineup: Competitors kept bringing out more of their own models in RX’s segment and also larger premium SUVs that family-building millennials have begun to demand in big numbers.

Now, just as the North American International Auto Show gets rolling, Lexus is introducing RX 350L, a three-row version of its iconic SUV that is intended to help the nameplate hold onto, and even extend, its unmatched position in the category.

The pitch: “More seats. More possibilities. Open up your world with the first-ever three-row RXL. With seven-passenger seating, it offers the ultimate luxury: flexibility.”

“We’ve got a real good foundation with the RX so as we transition into RXL we’re not getting too complicated,” Cooper Ericksen, vice president of marketing for Lexus, told us. “The RX customer has a growing family that needs more space and appreciates craftsmanship and what the RX brings.”

On the eve of the North American International Auto Show and before its Super Bowl spot, Ericksen told us more about the brand’s strategy for growing in the luxury auto segment with this (literal) expansion.

Lexus invented the luxury SUV with RX. How do you make sure stretching it into an RXL is beneficial for the brand?

It’s been 20 years since we basically invented the luxury crossover SUV segment and it’s been the segment leader since then. We’ve amassed a lot of loyal customers. We sold another 100,000 or more last year so it’s a very meaningful vehicle in the industry.

But we’d been hearing from customers that they wanted more seating capacity for their growing families. So we wanted to figure out a way for growing families to stay in the RX even though we have a couple of other three-row options in our lineup, with GX and LX—they’re a little more money and a little less fuel-efficient. It seemed like a natural for us.

When you realize size does matter. #LexusRX 350L https://t.co/Bi19MH8YOG pic.twitter.com/UiEVil9a9s

— Lexus (@Lexus) January 12, 2018

What’s the biggest obstacle to upselling to these other vehicles?

Even though it’s in the luxury market and Lexus is a luxury brand, price point is always a consideration. The further you move up, the smaller the population that can move into [even pricier models].

LX at $90,000 is quite the step up and it’s larger, and maneuverability and parking is an issue. GX skews more male, with a V8, body-on-frame construction and more rugged and tremendous off-road capability. So for the most part they’re different customers. GX has a nice niche, 25,000 [units] a year, but RXL is different, more family friendly, a  little more space inside, ride comfort, all those things you get with a unibody frame.

Experience a journey worth sharing. #LexusRX 350L. https://t.co/L9ONsIjenS pic.twitter.com/GpFiT6mEcn

— Lexus (@Lexus) January 2, 2018

What’s the price differential?

RXL has a manufacturer’s suggested retail price of $47,600. Basically it’s about $2,750 or so less than an equivalently equipped RX without the third row. The wheelbase is the same but we extended the overall length of the body about five inches. We added a lot of functionality as well. The rear seats are electric; they fold flat into the floor. It’s not a compromise at all. There’s a lot of rear cargo room and functionality, and with the seat up or down a competitive amount of cargo space.

Are some customers going to migrate from RX to RXL, or is it primarily new customers coming to RXL?

We will cannibalize some existing RX sales. Some people will opt for the third row given the choice but we probably would have sold them RX anyway. But we expect a minimum of RXL sales to be coming from us. We will be getting them from a lot of competitors because we didn’t have a third row in the RX. Half of our sales will be stealing some from competitors. That’s not too high of a conquest number.

What can you tell us about the launch marketing campaign?

There’s something that draws you in. “Emily” is such a great concept. Here’s this adorable kid that thinks they have the world all to themselves. Parents are expanding their vehicle and little does she know the family is expanding too. It’s a priceless moment done in an adorable way.

It’s a way to endear Emily and the RXL to that customer, and that customer can appreciate that conversation, something that you always remember when you let the family know that another one is on the way. It was just emotionally on point for us and felt good for us—and very aspirational.

Get more insights in our Q&A series and suggest a Q&A to [email protected].

The post Growth Story: 5 Questions With Lexus VP Cooper Ericksen appeared first on brandchannel:.

[markjsousa]

Growth Story: 5 Questions With Lexus VP Cooper Ericksen

The Lexus RX originated the luxury SUV category two decades ago and arguably has remained the gold standard ever since. Lexus kept improving the smooth, comfortable mid-size nameplate over the years and increasing its alphanumeric designation from RX 350 to RX 450, and it’s got the best reputation in its class.

But finally something happened in the market that prompted Lexus to make the biggest change ever in its RX lineup: Competitors kept bringing out more of their own models in RX’s segment and also larger premium SUVs that family-building millennials have begun to demand in big numbers.

Now, just as the North American International Auto Show gets rolling, Lexus is introducing RX 350L, a three-row version of its iconic SUV that is intended to help the nameplate hold onto, and even extend, its unmatched position in the category.

The pitch: “More seats. More possibilities. Open up your world with the first-ever three-row RXL. With seven-passenger seating, it offers the ultimate luxury: flexibility.”

“We’ve got a real good foundation with the RX so as we transition into RXL we’re not getting too complicated,” Cooper Ericksen, vice president of marketing for Lexus, told us. “The RX customer has a growing family that needs more space and appreciates craftsmanship and what the RX brings.”

On the eve of the North American International Auto Show and before its Super Bowl spot, Ericksen told us more about the brand’s strategy for growing in the luxury auto segment with this (literal) expansion.

Lexus invented the luxury SUV with RX. How do you make sure stretching it into an RXL is beneficial for the brand?

It’s been 20 years since we basically invented the luxury crossover SUV segment and it’s been the segment leader since then. We’ve amassed a lot of loyal customers. We sold another 100,000 or more last year so it’s a very meaningful vehicle in the industry.

But we’d been hearing from customers that they wanted more seating capacity for their growing families. So we wanted to figure out a way for growing families to stay in the RX even though we have a couple of other three-row options in our lineup, with GX and LX—they’re a little more money and a little less fuel-efficient. It seemed like a natural for us.

When you realize size does matter. #LexusRX 350L https://t.co/Bi19MH8YOG http://pic.twitter.com/UiEVil9a9s

— Lexus (@Lexus) January 12, 2018

What’s the biggest obstacle to upselling to these other vehicles?

Even though it’s in the luxury market and Lexus is a luxury brand, price point is always a consideration. The further you move up, the smaller the population that can move into [even pricier models].

LX at $90,000 is quite the step up and it’s larger, and maneuverability and parking is an issue. GX skews more male, with a V8, body-on-frame construction and more rugged and tremendous off-road capability. So for the most part they’re different customers. GX has a nice niche, 25,000 [units] a year, but RXL is different, more family friendly, a  little more space inside, ride comfort, all those things you get with a unibody frame.

Experience a journey worth sharing. #LexusRX 350L. https://t.co/L9ONsIjenS http://pic.twitter.com/GpFiT6mEcn

— Lexus (@Lexus) January 2, 2018

What’s the price differential?

RXL has a manufacturer’s suggested retail price of $47,600. Basically it’s about $2,750 or so less than an equivalently equipped RX without the third row. The wheelbase is the same but we extended the overall length of the body about five inches. We added a lot of functionality as well. The rear seats are electric; they fold flat into the floor. It’s not a compromise at all. There’s a lot of rear cargo room and functionality, and with the seat up or down a competitive amount of cargo space.

Are some customers going to migrate from RX to RXL, or is it primarily new customers coming to RXL?

We will cannibalize some existing RX sales. Some people will opt for the third row given the choice but we probably would have sold them RX anyway. But we expect a minimum of RXL sales to be coming from us. We will be getting them from a lot of competitors because we didn’t have a third row in the RX. Half of our sales will be stealing some from competitors. That’s not too high of a conquest number.

What can you tell us about the launch marketing campaign?

There’s something that draws you in. “Emily” is such a great concept. Here’s this adorable kid that thinks they have the world all to themselves. Parents are expanding their vehicle and little does she know the family is expanding too. It’s a priceless moment done in an adorable way.

It’s a way to endear Emily and the RXL to that customer, and that customer can appreciate that conversation, something that you always remember when you let the family know that another one is on the way. It was just emotionally on point for us and felt good for us—and very aspirational.

Get more insights in our Q&A series and suggest a Q&A to [email protected].

The post Growth Story: 5 Questions With Lexus VP Cooper Ericksen appeared first on brandchannel:.

[glenmenlow]

Growth Story: 5 Questions With Lexus VP Cooper Ericksen

The Lexus RX originated the luxury SUV category two decades ago and arguably has remained the gold standard ever since. Lexus kept improving the smooth, comfortable mid-size nameplate over the years and increasing its alphanumeric designation from RX 350 to RX 450, and it’s got the best reputation in its class.

But finally something happened in the market that prompted Lexus to make the biggest change ever in its RX lineup: Competitors kept bringing out more of their own models in RX’s segment and also larger premium SUVs that family-building millennials have begun to demand in big numbers.

Now, just as the North American International Auto Show gets rolling, Lexus is introducing RX 350L, a three-row version of its iconic SUV that is intended to help the nameplate hold onto, and even extend, its unmatched position in the category.

The pitch: “More seats. More possibilities. Open up your world with the first-ever three-row RXL. With seven-passenger seating, it offers the ultimate luxury: flexibility.”

“We’ve got a real good foundation with the RX so as we transition into RXL we’re not getting too complicated,” Cooper Ericksen, vice president of marketing for Lexus, told us. “The RX customer has a growing family that needs more space and appreciates craftsmanship and what the RX brings.”

On the eve of the North American International Auto Show and before its Super Bowl spot, Ericksen told us more about the brand’s strategy for growing in the luxury auto segment with this (literal) expansion.

Lexus invented the luxury SUV with RX. How do you make sure stretching it into an RXL is beneficial for the brand?

It’s been 20 years since we basically invented the luxury crossover SUV segment and it’s been the segment leader since then. We’ve amassed a lot of loyal customers. We sold another 100,000 or more last year so it’s a very meaningful vehicle in the industry.

But we’d been hearing from customers that they wanted more seating capacity for their growing families. So we wanted to figure out a way for growing families to stay in the RX even though we have a couple of other three-row options in our lineup, with GX and LX—they’re a little more money and a little less fuel-efficient. It seemed like a natural for us.

When you realize size does matter. #LexusRX 350L https://t.co/Bi19MH8YOG pic.twitter.com/UiEVil9a9s

— Lexus (@Lexus) January 12, 2018

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

What’s the biggest obstacle to upselling to these other vehicles?

Even though it’s in the luxury market and Lexus is a luxury brand, price point is always a consideration. The further you move up, the smaller the population that can move into [even pricier models].

LX at $90,000 is quite the step up and it’s larger, and maneuverability and parking is an issue. GX skews more male, with a V8, body-on-frame construction and more rugged and tremendous off-road capability. So for the most part they’re different customers. GX has a nice niche, 25,000 [units] a year, but RXL is different, more family friendly, a  little more space inside, ride comfort, all those things you get with a unibody frame.

Experience a journey worth sharing. #LexusRX 350L. https://t.co/L9ONsIjenS pic.twitter.com/GpFiT6mEcn

— Lexus (@Lexus) January 2, 2018

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

What’s the price differential?

RXL has a manufacturer’s suggested retail price of $47,600. Basically it’s about $2,750 or so less than an equivalently equipped RX without the third row. The wheelbase is the same but we extended the overall length of the body about five inches. We added a lot of functionality as well. The rear seats are electric; they fold flat into the floor. It’s not a compromise at all. There’s a lot of rear cargo room and functionality, and with the seat up or down a competitive amount of cargo space.

Are some customers going to migrate from RX to RXL, or is it primarily new customers coming to RXL?

We will cannibalize some existing RX sales. Some people will opt for the third row given the choice but we probably would have sold them RX anyway. But we expect a minimum of RXL sales to be coming from us. We will be getting them from a lot of competitors because we didn’t have a third row in the RX. Half of our sales will be stealing some from competitors. That’s not too high of a conquest number.

What can you tell us about the launch marketing campaign?

There’s something that draws you in. “Emily” is such a great concept. Here’s this adorable kid that thinks they have the world all to themselves. Parents are expanding their vehicle and little does she know the family is expanding too. It’s a priceless moment done in an adorable way.

It’s a way to endear Emily and the RXL to that customer, and that customer can appreciate that conversation, something that you always remember when you let the family know that another one is on the way. It was just emotionally on point for us and felt good for us—and very aspirational.

Get more insights in our Q&A series and suggest a Q&A to [email protected].

The post Growth Story: 5 Questions With Lexus VP Cooper Ericksen appeared first on brandchannel:.

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