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parad-ice-lostandfound · 6 months

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Prompt: "You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth... If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror."

Pairing: Dire Crowley and GN!Prefect/ Yuu/ MC

Genre: Yandere (platonic)

TW: Yandere Dire Crowley, crow man's delusional and literally does not give two fucks, just generally creepy vibes all around.

AN: I am so, so, so sorry for what you are about to read now lol. If you get too confused in the middle, don't worry, I was just as confused writing this but my brain just wouldn't rest until I finished and posted this so here we are. The basic summary of this is that Yuu or the Prefect is trapped in an endless cycle because Crowley overblotted. You might have to read this twice or thrice to understand the how and why <3

He knows.

From the moment he sees them, he remembers.

He remembers and he watches as they do it again.

And again.

A puppet, unaware of their being handled by someone else, someone kinder and gentler who just wants to keep them safe and sound.

Even if it means trapping them in an endless cycle.

Even if he is the only one who sees and notices and remembers.

Dire Crowley cuts an imposing figure as he stands in his office, facing an ornate mirror. Not the Dark Mirror, no. This particular mirror has its roots in mystical arcane magic, from the times of Jupiter and when the Titans roamed free. Dire has a faint memory of his mother, the Crowley Matriarch, telling him to be careful with it, to pass it down to his heir as she had, to him.

Crystal clear, it beckons to him to reveal himself. To bare himself, imperfections and flaws laid out in the privacy of his office for it to see.

A selfish, sadistic desire to pick apart every carefully constructed lie, each bejeweled facade to show the utter mess of a man that lies beneath it all arises in him; he finds himself indulging in it more often than he likes to admit.

The masked man removes his mask for what is not the first time, and most certainly would not be the last. Sharp golden eyes look on as black ink, once held within the confines of his mask, drips down his face. Times like these make him wonder and marvel at how he has not met his demise yet.

Fingers adorned with golden claws rise and touch the blot, marveling at how cold it feels as it stains his skin. Lesser mages would have been dead long ago, Crowley knows this. Slight dread rises in him at the thought, knowing that his magic reserves are long finished; he lives on borrowed time and magic.

But then again, who cares? As long as he can have them here, where they belong, safe and sound-

A knock resonates through the room, startling the headmage. He quickly puts the mask on his face again and clears his throat, saying, "Come in."

He watches as they walk in, no doubt to complain about something, or to talk about their financial situation. Perhaps he should increase their allowance? After all, it is their being, their magic that sustains him, and allows him to live through these lifetimes watching over the unassuming, now magicless human he had imprinted on and the students they had endeared themself to.

Crowley watches as they speak, unable to stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He hems and haws and lies through his teeth about not being able to find them a way back.

He sees the light in their eyes dim; it is a small change, one that doesn't stay for long. But the magicless human is precious to him, and so he observes them. He watches them leave his office silently, a stark contrast to when their impatience and indignance have them cursing his name to the skies. No outcome, no outburst of their emotions will be able to move his cold, frozen heart to thaw, however; they belong to Twisted Wonderland, as Twisted Wonderland belongs to them.

In their first lifetime, Crowley recalls with the fondness of a father thinking of his grown-up child, they did possess magic; far different in nature, but magic nonetheless. And powerful too, considering the aura of it radiated from their being even as something stopped them from being able to use it.

Crowley wonders if it was so that he could see how invaluable, how indispensable they were.

How the entirety of Twisted Wonderland was made for them.

He did try, the first time, to find them a way back home. Endless efforts were dedicated to researching the existence of universes and multiverses. Of course, such exhaustive research would take time, time which he saw them spend getting close to the students of Night Raven College and fighting overblots.

Seven overblots, in the span of one year.

A record untouched by any other being, mage or otherwise. A record they kept making each and every lifetime they spent in the loop. A record that became his new normal, so much so that he no longer gives more than a cursory glance to the overblots and their aftermath.

He knows how it all ends, after all.

In their first lifetime, his efforts had bore fruit. His studies revealed a way to connect the Dark Mirror to their plane of existence, through the use of the very mirror that was hidden behind his back. His blood had run cold at the revelation, and he spent the next few weeks? months? looking for alternatives. For other ways to be able to send them back.

Until one day, the Prefect found out.

As they angrily interrogated him for the reasons behind his silence, asking him why he would not send them back even though there was a way, he realized exactly why he was hesitant about sending them back.

Crowley had no spouse, no children. But the mirror, the mirror which had been in his family for generations, needed an heir. One who could gain control over it, rather than have it control them like it did with so many of his ancestors, including his mother.

Surely the one dubbed a beast-tamer could tame such a dangerously powerful magical artefact?

He desperately begged and bargained with them, trying to change their mind. Trying to entice them into staying forever in Twisted Wonderland, as his heir. He offered them gold and silver, riches beyond what one would expect a man like him to have. He offered them the immense honour and prestige that came with being a deity that the entirety of Twisted Wonderland bowed to.

But they... they refused to stay. The only thing that was in their mind was to go home. Why couldn't they get it through their head that Twisted Wonderland was meant to be their home?

The aftermath of that argument... Crowley's memories are hazy at best. He remembers waking up in a pool of blot, the sticky ink covering his hands and the top of his face, dripping constantly. He remembers the mirror glowing as he dragged himself to it like a mindless moth flies to the flame even with the risk of getting burned.

Words had slipped through his mouth like the prayers of the devout at the altar of their deity, the faint and familiar hum of magic accompanied by a slight crackle of dark miasma.

"Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor... My proud, beautiful flower of evil. You are truly the fairest one of all," he had spoken, not knowing exactly what spell he was casting. All he knew, was that he was succumbing to the mirror, the same way his mother had; the same way all of his ancestors had, giving into the madness that such unchecked power and magic could create.

"O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat... Reveal unto me the visage I seek.." A vision of them, standing on the other side of the mirror, had Crowley try to reach out to them. His hand grazed the solid glass, before passing through it. He watched as their eyes widened and they took a step back.

"You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth... If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror." A shiver of thrill ran up his spine as they gingerly placed their hand in his after giving his words some thought, even with all the doubt in their eyes. He curled his fingers around their warm hand, and pulled.

He later found out that, during his overblot, he had managed to trap a significant portion of their soul in the mirror that was his family heirloom. The mirror rejected their magic, foreign as it was, and somehow those powers transferred themselves over to Crowley.

The words Crowley spoke, was the way to invoke their soul and bring them back each time they left Twisted Wonderland. A reset button, if you will.

Every time they show the slightest hint of wanting to leave, the slightest glimpse of understanding that he is the one they need to defeat in order to go home, he resets. Memories get wiped and Twisted Wonderland moulds beneath his gold-plated fingertips to what it was before. They say time waits for no man, but then again, Dire Crowley is more monster than human now. And so it bends to his will, but not without taking away his memories as well.

But then he sees them.

And he remembers.

#ice write #twst writing #twisted wonderland #twst #twst crowley #dire crowley #gn!yuu #gn!prefect #twst yuu #yandere twst #yandere dire crowley #platonic yandere #gn!reader #gn!mc #dire crowley twst #yandere crowley and gn!prefect #i dunno what this is #but it is something

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captain-of-the-historicfuture · 3 years

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~hello~ !! For the meta asks!: 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21, 24, and 25 :))

Hello!! Thank you for sending these; I was really excited to see that ask game and I was hoping somebody would send some in. It still took me a while to actually answer them though, and for that I apologise. But without further ado! Some meta answers (under the cut because they ended up being fairly long, whoops):

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (Consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway.)

I thought of a few examples, but they could basically be grouped together under a common theme: whumpy/angsty scenes that were self-indulgent as all heck. The whole self-indulgent aspect often required the characters to be just the teeniest, tiniest bit OOC and/or necessitated rather unrealistic plot circumstances. So it was simply easier to keep such scenes as maladaptive daydreams, rather than trying to think of explanations for the character/plot issues…or exposing myself to judgement for them LOL.

Receiving permission to write/share one such scene anyway is an opportunity I can’t let slip by though. It might be because I’m writing this while running on zero (0) hours of sleep—let’s hear it for insomnia, y’all!—but I suddenly couldn’t remember any of my newer ideas under this category. However, I did recall a one-shot I had started writing a couple of months ago that sort of counts? “Sort of” because I could actually be arsed to write it since I was, ya know, writing it. Only got about six hundred words down though.

…should I share those six hundred words…?

………nahhh. I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet.

But here’s the gist of it: Coulson and May (because of course it’s Philinda) were married for quite some time before the Attack on New York. But then Coulson DiedTM and then got ResurrectedTM. But gasp of horror, he had to lose his memories of his romantic relationship with May because reasons. (I actually did have some ideas for those reasons but sshhhh this is about me yeeting context and setup.)

The first half of S1 still happens as normal (except MayWard doesn’t happen because??? Vows) and it’s now post-E20 “Nothing Personal”. The morning after (or a morning soon after, whatever) the T.A.H.I.T.I. reveal! May’s mom—who doesn’t know about GH.325 and whom May fed a cover story about Coulson divorcing her or something equally as oof, IDK—shows up at the hotel and starts ripping into Coulson for breaking her daughter’s heart, then dragging her back into the field with her ex-husband (him), then accusing her of terrible things and forcing her away again.

Poor guy’s confused as heck, and so is the team, and soon enough so is Lian. The only one who understands what’s going on is May, and she’s freaking dying off to the side like why is this happening to me and eventually everybody’s like! Explain??? (Was thinking about including something from Coulson like, “Are you still keeping things from me?” Just for that extra smidge of angst, yay!)

So yeah then May gives a, like, two-sentence debriefing that elicits more questions than answers. Coulson decides to take May aside and they have a heart-to-heart. Lots of feelings and angst and hurt/comfort and at some point plenty of kissing too. Just! May hiding her feelings for Coulson’s sake but really magnified, plus some actual apologies and consideration of the grief May’s been through on Coulson’s part.

And uhh yeah that’s basically it I dunno hdsjncjshd. I warned y’all it’s OOC, plot-bendy, and very self-indulgent!

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

I don’t think I could name a single character for this. I get different things out of taking on different voices, you know? I guess recently I’ve found myself gravitating towards more taciturn and introspective points of view, like JQ from my original novel Rosewood or M. Yisbon from my…other original novel Temple.

Generally, however, I like tackling stories from an outsider’s perspective. That’s why I so rarely write my more “substantial” (serious? demanding? for lack of better words?) projects from the PoV of my “preferred” character. This usually means writing from their love interest’s perspective, but not always. With shorter fanfic, using a more removed/unconventional/niche PoV can be really fun. Like, I once wrote a canon compliant ficlet purely(-ish) about Philinda from Tony Stark’s perspective. That isn’t always sustainable with stories that demand more character development or closer character studies, however, which is why it’s a good thing I like writing drabbles!

9. Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

My word counts tend to run long, but I usually only write one-shots for fanfic. If I’m even inspired with a novella- or novel-length story idea for a fandom, you already know I’m in deep with them. And if I actually find the motivation to plan and execute that idea? Dangg. That’s only ever happened…twice, maybe thrice, and I’m in a lot of fandoms.

At times, I wish I could go for more of a middle ground ’cause, like, you know what I love to see? An AO3 dashboard with several completed novellas for my ship/character of choice. I mean yes, I hecking love >90k fics, but sometimes I’m in the mood for quick reads…and what am I supposed to do when I burn through all the drabbles and 2k one-shots? (Besides despair and/or reread my faves desperately.) Novellas are basically always safe for me LOL, and I’d hope to be able to give as much as I take.

Ultimately though, I think I’m okay with where I am with regards to that. I wish I could write more in general, but I’d be okay with “writing more” just meaning “writing more one-shots”, ya know? More than okay, really. I have mad respect for fic writers who have, like, a hundred or more one-shots under their belt for this one ship. The fandom ecosystem would be incomplete without them (as well as every other type of writer, but sshhh that’s the type of writer I’m closest to being right now).

I’m definitely a plotter, and I definitely prefer it that way. It’s cool having such a detailed record of my process. I like feeling like a frazzled genius on the brink of a major discovery with all of my different outlines and colour coding and many drafts and various websites.

12. Do you want your writing to be famous?

Not exactly. It might be cool if my original works were recognisable in the world, but I don’t think I’d want to be recognisable. As for fanfic, I’d low-key enjoy gaining a place in that fandom’s community as a fic writer. Like someone who gave and got fic gifts from fic writer friends, who participated in challenges and GCs, who received writing prompts on Tumblr, whose name was known for doing a certain trope/genre a bunch of times… Ya know what I mean?

Unlikely to happen when I’m so hecking hesitant to publicly (i.e., outside of AO3) claim credit for my writing, but fjnskfsjhfjs. A writer can dream, right?

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Of those three, tags are the easiest for me, for I have a reliable system for figuring out those.

Next easiest would probably be titles. For fanfiction, I like to use titles that are a quote from the source material. You should have seen all of my old Hamilton fanfic… I was really proud of some of those titles. And I don’t mean, like, whole lines—usually only two to five words. It’s a unique type of wordplay that I just love dabbling in.

And lastly, summaries. Sometimes inspiration strikes me and a snappy and intriguing synopsis just jumps out—one that I’m quietly pleased with—but most of the time I’ll spend way too long trying to think of such a synopsis and eventually just go with whatever I’d come up with so far. And live with my quiet dissatisfaction for the rest of time.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (Plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations...?) Tell us about them!

Typically, no. If I have deleted scenes, I save and publish them separately, but that’s about it. I sometimes think of AUs for my own work and might talk about them in my author’s notes—might even talk about writing them—but I never really do anything with them.

Although…

It’s not uncommon for me to decide a plotline isn’t working for a certain story or to think of an interesting but undoable arc for a certain character, but what I’ll do is make a whole new story for those ideas. Once I’m done developing the original idea and the branched-off one, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell they grew from the same roots. Does that count?

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as (film, webcomic, animated series, etc.)?

That depends on the story. I’ve actually written stories in other mediums—movie screenplay, musical stageplay, poetry, TV show scripts, play scripts, roleplay—but the novel does tend to be my comfort zone. Sometimes, if I have an idea that I think could work, or would even work better, as another medium, I’ll label it as such in my folder of ideas and decide not to write it as a novel.

Most of the time, my non-book projects are collaborations. I’m working with five different people on six different story ideas: two webcomics, one stage musical, one anime, and two animated TV shows. Little concrete progress has been made in any of those, mind you, but they’re still fun to discuss!

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Absolutely. But I’ve been writing stories since I was five years old, so we would hope so, huh?

I wouldn’t say my writing’s changed completely, though maybe that’s just my insider’s perspective.

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

Oh gosh, I can’t believe you’d make me choose. Writing is just such a wonderful experience for me; I love just about everything to do with it. Admittedly, not all the time, but. Since that barely qualifies as an answer, however, I’ll give you this—

The endings. Not only that intense feeling of rightness when you wrap up that last sentence, but also the moments before. The adrenaline of knowing you’re almost there but you gotta push just a bit more to actually get there. And also the part right after—the real wrap-up, honestly: the revision and the editing. Heavens, I love revising and editing my work.

Which is not to say I don’t like writing it out for the first time, too—there’s nothing quite like seeing your cursor scroll to the next page, like going from a blank expanse to a Oh man, how many more lines are even going to fit on this page?, like watching that page counter tick up another number. However, there’s something cathartic about finally ironing out those problems I had to force myself to stop worrying about earlier because “just finish the first draft dangit”.

I guess that’s not really the end of the writing process, but whatever. Close enough (as fic writers are wont to say).

Another thank-you for these asks, and feel free to come back with more at any time! ;P

Send in fun meta asks for your friendly neighbourhood writer!

#thou canst not then be false to any man #ask game #invictusmaneo #to write and read comes by nature

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junglekarmapippa · 7 years

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Team dynamics in Power Rangers Jungle Fury

Jungle Fury is a weird animal (sorry) among Power Rangers seasons. I think the reason most people don’t like it is because it’s a little too “show, don’t tell” for the average Power Ranger fan (after all, we ARE used to having characters state even the most obvious things), and that makes it feel, at first watch, like it had a lot of plot holes or it left a lot to the imagination. Closer inspection will prove that is not the case and it can be very solid on some things (for example, Jarrod wins the tournament to become a Chosen Protector and Dom is mentioned to have been considered for Chosen Protector, and both end up being important in the fight against Dai Shi, in different ways), while other stuff is indeed just plain oversight or a garden variety plot hole.

But other things are just hard to see, unless you are looking for them and trying to understand them only from what you are told and shown on the show. One of those things is who the hell is the actual leader of this team and why is that so. Casey is obviously the Red Ranger but RJ is the Master. So who is the leader and who should be the leader?

One of the episodes I like the least from Jungle Fury is “No I in leader”, in which in a completely out of character move, and seemingly out of nowhere, Casey becomes jealous of RJ and feels his leader position, given to him by RJ, is now being challenged by his master.

It seems incomprehensible because, one, RJ doesn’t seem to be doing anything differently. He is being the Master and leading his students through a series of training sessions.

And two, why shouldn’t RJ be the leader of the Ranger team? He IS the Master here, he is by far the strongest, most efficient fighter of the team ad he is quite smart too. Not to mention someone with the spirit of the wolf, a highly social animal, would be more qualified to lead a team than someone with the spirit of the tiger, a rather loner animal.

The thing here is Jungle Fury actually has two separate teams, made up of the same people, but with completely different dynamics: the Pai Zhua students team and the Ranger team.

Maybe, by the Pai Zhua standars, RJ would be, and in fact is, qualified to lead the team. But a Power Ranger team has its own rules and, whether we like it or not, the red one is ALWAYS the leader, which would explain why RJ went to such lengths to teach Casey a lesson on leadership in “Pizza slice of life”.

Also, by the Pai Zhua’s rules, RJ, presumably, is unable to actually destroy Dai Shi. We see the Wolf Master defeat Dai Shi in battle at least twice (thrice if you count the fact he held the demon back and kept it from destroying his wolf spirit in the awesome cage fight in “Ghost of a chance”), but in “Now the final fury”, RJ takes absolutely no part in the final destruction of Dai Shi. But why? Why didn’t he, Dom or any of the other masters take part in the final defeat of Dai Shi?

Because of the concept of Chosen Protectors, who in this case are Casey, Theo and Lily.

RJ prepared for the possibility of having to join his students in battle by creating a morpher for himself (we can asume it was before he met the other three, since there was purple all over the place already when they showed up), despite knowing, and saying so in “Welcome to the jungle”, that this is not his fight.

He is not one of the Chosen Protectors.

He is the master to the Chosen Protectors (the Chosen Master?) and this is a responsibility that was assigned to him long before Theo, Casey and Lily go to his pizza place (Fran says JKP had been around at least an entire year before RJ becomes the violet ranger and his entire home is designed around the concept of training others in the Pai Zhua techniques), but he is NOT one of the Chosen Protectors himself.

Asides from telling them that fighting evil is their job because he has “a pizza store to run”, RJ also mentions the Power Rangers are not part of the Order of the Claw. What could possibly compel him to give the red ranger powers to the cub instead of the more advanced student, is, well, a plot hole (or a trope, you pick).

Let’s say he did it for the LOLs.

So this causes two completely team dynamics to take place simultaneously in this team: one where Casey is the leader, the Power Rangers team, and one where RJ is the leader, as Master, boss and owner of the place where they live.

This is what causes Casey’s discomfort in “No I in leader”. RJ really isn’t doing anything different as their master, but he is now part of the rangers team, of Casey’s team, and he is incorporating that into the training. He is stepping on Casey’s toes, even if he is not doing anything differently, from where he is standing. Funnily enough, even after he convinces Casey he is not a threat to his leadership status, RJ proceeds to solve Casey’s problem (by throwing him a satellite dish for him to deflect the blast with) and then to call in the morph that comes RIGHT AFTER the conversation about Casey’s leadership.

I guess the difference between Pai Zhua students team and Power Rangers team was a lesson both Casey and RJ needed to learn.

A couple of episodes later, “Path of the rhino”, RJ happily welcomes his buddy from Pai Zhua, Dom, into his home and even allows him to work in his pizza parlor, both decisions that are on his hands; but tells Dom he can’t join the Power Rangers team unless the team wants him, and by that he essentially means Casey and Theo, since Lily already likes Dom. RJ makes a morpher for Dom but doesn’t give it to him until after Casey brings Dom back and welcomes him into HIS ranger team, showing he was now aware and respectful of the Red Ranger’s leadership of the Power Rangers team.

The leadership is shared, but never fought over again, between the Master and his student (and Casey is truly RJ’s student, since he had only spent ‘a week’ in the academy before Dai Shi’s escape and therefore was completely trained from cub to master by RJ), until the episode “The spirit of kindness”, in which RJ asks Casey to stay behind from a battle, for he might be unable to morph without his animal spirit. Casey contests the decision but, since they are unmorphed and therefore, technically, under RJ’s command, he stays behind as instructed.

In the battlefield, it is RJ who leads the red ranger-less team, until Casey joins them, if my memory serves me correctly.

However, in battle RJ never rarely disobeys Casey’s commands or takes over, despite it being his natural place in a team made up of mostly people with less skills than him, his students. RJ doesn’t think he knows best, he does know best, because he is the master here.

However, he respects the leadership he granted to Casey himself, but only while morphed, as he is seen still teaching Casey lessons and even mocking his student (as in “tigers fall, lions rise”) while unmorphed. RJ mocks Casey’s attempts to teach the entire team, including him, a lesson on ‘the element of surprise’, by defeating the cub using one arm and sending him flying into some bushes, remarking “I guess I learn fast”, a subtle yet clear way to assert his position as master when they are not morphed. Casey, in turn, morphs to take the lesson to his “turf”, and after leading the others into the morph, RJ happily joins the training session as lead by Casey.

In “Path of the righteous”, after Casey decides to attack Dai Shi’s temple by himself, the rest of the team naturally turn to RJ for guidance and instructions. After Casey becomes a master too, RJ and him share an equal status during most of the fight in “Now the final fury”, until RJ has to step aside to let the Chosen Protectors do their thing.

It is a very confusing situation, and even the writers get their leaders mixed up sometimes, and it may even look inconsistent at first sight, but it is only a very complex dynamic between characters that is fun to observe once you pick up on it, because you can’t help but noticing the rest of the team going from Casey’s hands to RJ’s hands, depending on the context

#Power Rangers #jungle fury #power rangers jungle fury #My favourite season

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greaterthannine-blog · 6 years

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Locke [1] California

Several weekends ago, via bus, We schlepped to Locke, California

Who is this mysterious, "We," you ask...?

"We" is Roots 2018

Let me explain:

Roots 2018. What's the Scoop?

AS A PART OF MY GAP YEAR, I am participating in the Roots: Him Mark Lai Family History Project, by an organization based in San Francisco, CA where each year, a small group of young-adult Chinese-Americans are led through a program exploring their Chinese and Chinese-American heritage, history, and family genealogy to better understand what it means to be Chinese-American. Roots also includes a three week trip to Southern China where we visit each intern's respective ancestral villages, which is hyper snazzy if I do say so myself. Chinese-American is a term that encompasses a vast range of experiences and subcategories such as ABC, hapa & FOB to name a couple. For myself, I wanted to join the ranks of this 28-year-old program in hopes of finding some stupid scrap of resolve for my life's journey as a hapa third-generation Chinese-American and why I am where I am. Thus far, despite all the meetings and research, I'm halfway certain I'll never find said understanding (or, let's be real, it may take my whole goddamn life to finally comprehend my ethnic existential crisis).

While I haven't learned much by way of historical knowledge, at least in regards to general Chinese-American immigration/assimilation history as I completed several past research papers on the subject (e.g. If you watched the recent PBS segment on the Chinese Exclusion Act, which I also watched, I will admit I learned abso-fucking nothing, for which I feel moderately awful and guilty, not gonna lie), I have found many other things I hadn't expected in the slightest. The Roots community is widespread and unreasonably welcoming. Having been raised in Northern Colorado for 57.89% of my life, which is a distinct poster-child community of racial uniformity (by which I mean white people), my exposure to an Asian-American community, let alone exclusive Chinese-American community was next to none, save the twice or thrice annual visits to California for family functions, for which I would only interact with Chinese-Americans to whom I am related to. So overall my immersion into Chinese-American-ness was slim and lacking, but with Roots I have finally found a body of people I can relate to; a community I feel so at home with that I can't fathom how I've lived all this life without it. The Roots program and extending Bay-Area Chinese-American community feels so wholly natural, and I am privileged to now be a part of it, if only temporarily. The other interns in Roots 2018 are also an awesome group of people as well as those in Roots 2017 whom are our mentors! Frankly I wish you could also meet every single person that I've met in the Roots program thus far, as well as all of those I'll meet in the future. I have a longstanding love-hate

relationship with people thus far in life, but since moving to California and diving into Roots, the ratio of love (well, maybe not altogether "love," and more like "appreciate") to hate has certainly dominated an enthusiastic praise. Though, now that I think about it, in reality you may get to virtually meet (however slightly) the Roots 2018 interns, as we are now preparing our trip to China, and from what I've been told, there is a Roots blog for which we may have to opportunity to post mini-profile posts, so if that hip-hop happens, then I will link those in another post. But don't quote me on this. I am often wrong. About many things.

Anyways, now that you have a smidgen of an idea of what I've been doing for the past few months, let's delve into the depths of photographs in this post. As mentioned in the introductory sans-serif font adjacent to the first photo, Roots 2018 went to Locke, California for a lil' field trip (look they have a website!). Locke is a puny town that once served as a Chinese-American community in the Sacramento Delta region. And when I say this town is puny, I shouldn't even call it a town. Currently, I believe only 70-80 people live there (and none of them are Chinese lol), and it only has one dirt road, a sign, and a couple historical museums that once served as various essential town businesses or organizations. Now it is just a quaint little spot chock full of stories past, but it's hella cute and exceptionally photogenic. And luckily, on the day of our sojourn there, the light was I kid you not, perfect. Just ever-so slightly overcast so that the misty haze filtered just the right amount of light to still produce great shadows, but possess ingenious color quality.

That being said, I hereby present to you the photographs produced on the first roll of film I shot in Locke! When I whipped out my camera, a trusty Nikon F3, the younger folks on thus bus emitted comments such as, "Whoa, how cool!" and "What type of camera is that?" and "You're shooting film? Sweet." Some of the older folks on the other hand thought I was a bozo for using film, but I still felt a silent impression of respectful regard that the prevailing youngest person in all of the Roots community, chose to use film of all things to document a silly field trip. The adults all had mirrorless DSLR cameras just to note.

Anyways, the itinerary once we arrived in Locke was to split into two groups. Among our attendee ranks was a woman who was actually raised in a neighboring town to Locke, and she offered to serve as a tour guide for Locke and her town (which we later visited). (I should also note that Roots runs another program called Roots Plus for families and older folks, and their China trip is in the fall those lucky fucking ducks). For the first half-hour of our time in

Locke, half our group would do her walking tour while the other half meandered around the museums and little shops, then after 30 mins, the groups would switch. I was in the first group on the walking tour, and boy did I do a shit job at listening. By which I mean I didn't listen. I had other priorities. The only of which was to shoot these photos. Honestly, I feel fairly bad that I didn't listen to her tour. From what I heard it was highly informative, and I was silly enough not to ask my interns what she had to say. Essentially what happened, and this is not my prime and shining moment mind you, was this: We hopped off the bus, I turned to my Roots 2018 counterparts and I spoke the following words, and I quote, "You guys go do the tour. If I'm not with you, and you don't see me anywhere, it's because I am not listening and am instead taking photos," after which I promptly ditched the tour group entirely. I am the worst person ever.

But on the bright side, I shot some neat photographs.

At least I have that to defend myself.

Lesson: Don't be an asshat all the time like me. Just be an asshat 15% of the time.

#Roots #Roots 2018 #Friends of Roots #Locke #California #Northern California #Sacramento Delta #Bay Area #Gap Year #Chinese-American #Film Photography #Film Camera #Film #Ko #Nikon F3 #Nikon

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itsudemoyoshiwara · 7 years

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[18:06] Kisling turns the corner, fiddling with the phone in her skirt pocket. Today had been remotely boring and Callista hadn't texted her at all. As she looks forward, she freezes upon who it is exactly that she sees. She stares at Lek, her face as white. Should she talk to him? Should she leave him alone? Agh... [18:07] (no name) Lek walked down the street with music blaring about in his headphones, taking a deep breath through irritation in an attempt to calm himself down. Looking over the area for anyone before spotting the female. Although she seemed to already start walking off before he could talk with her. Clenching his teeth as he looked around some more. He would definitely be recognizable for Lumi, he even had the backpack and baseball bat with him right now just like the teen years. Although with his back turned the male wouldn't notice her, looking down to ruffle at his hair with a sigh. Stressed Lek was stressed. [18:09] Kisling stares at him a bit more before shaking her head, clenching her fists and walking stiffly up to him. He'll probably run, or something. She stands behind him for a moment, unsure of what to say or do but she probably looks like some sort of stalker, she knows. Kisling reaches out to touch his shoulder gently and she would back away after doing so, afraid of his reaction. Nobody wants to get hit with a bat. Even if it's in his backpack. [18:17] (no name) Lek didn't seem to notice her until Lumiere walked up behind him and touched his shoulder. That glare and smug look still stuck on his face while pissed. Turning walkway while pulling down his headphones, figuring the person talked already and he hadn't heard. The man thought it may have been Kayla and didn't make any rude or harsh movement towards the touch. Although seeing Lumi he would freeze, frowning deeply before turning his back to her. Planting both hands over his face while peeking up at the sky in a mumble, "Go figuah." Taking a deep breath with puffed cheeks on the exhale he would start to walk off like she wasn't even there. He didn't need this, there was way too much to deal with. All this stress and turn of events keep piling up, the last thing he needed was for Lumi to go right back at it. Although his actions would have seemed rather cruel or heartless even though, despite his anger, each step just stabbed at him. [18:20] Kisling looks completely dejected, her arms hanging at her sides limply. She kinda knew he'd ignore her but, hot damn. Gotta be like that? You should probably go home and wait for Callsita. Then again, Callista would get on you for not taking the chance to talk to him. Remembering her roommate's words from the night before, she walks slowly after Lek, her hands clutching the sides of her skirt as she moved forward. The scene was probably awkward to see, should anyone pass by it. [18:30] (no name) Lek kept walking, tensing up as he didn't hear her call out yet. Was she... really going to leave him alone? That just didn't seem right, after what she did before it was hard to imagine that Lumiere would just NOT follow. Lek felt rather uncomfortable about it, trying to peek around his shoulder without giving it away. Which would lead to turning his head an inch and then trying to play it off, going near the corner to turn. With this he would take the chance to quickly glance over and notice a piece of her arm. She was following! Bah! He looked forward and facepalmed, another deep breath before spinning around. "What?!" Wow. That was rather harsh and blunt. Although he was already so stressed this week and knew she would eventually say something if the woman was following after. Easing up he looked upset for barking the word out, noting her hair. It was different. Even after seeing her three years later it seemed like his memories kept pulling out images from three years back. [18:35] Kisling bites her lip as she follows him, wondering how he'll take her essentially stalking-- She flinches as he finally notices her, her gaze falling downward. She knew that seeing him was probably the worst thing right now, especially if what Callista had said was right. Looking back up at him, she says nothing, reaching out to grab lightly onto his backpack. Should he start walking again, she'll just keep following; though if he pulls some sprinting crap, there's not much she can do at that point. Her body was weaker than it used to be, after all. Shame really. "I'm not going to try and talk you into anything, I promise," Kisling says quietly, her grip on his bag a little tighter as she speaks. He'd better not run. [18:44] (no name) Lek looked down at her, his expression growing soft. When seeing her for the first time in three years he thought it was a dream, him going mad. He had those dreams before, rather they be consider nightmares or not was uncertain. But.. seeing her again. It was more of a realization. It really was her. She really was here, now, and she was going to stay here. He wanted to leave this town badly but not until he would fix things with those two men threatening Kayla. Looking down at her hand grabbing the backpack he was thankful she wasn't going to hold his hand. Contact.. only made things even worse- harder- to deal with all this. Turning around as he started walking again, taking deep breaths through the stress. Today was more exhausting than most days, Kayla and him fought- what? Twice? Thrice today? His whole body was tensed up while noting that Lumiere was still following. After awhile he would turn around again. His voice at first a shout before getting weak, "Lumi! Will you... stop?! Sirousley?! (c) [18:44] (no name) All you.. ugh.. ya say ya ain't gunna talk me in nahthan but followin' me is da same shit.... yur bein' selfish." [18:44] Kisling (honey.martiel): LOL.)) [18:51] Kisling keeps her attention locked on her hand, still holding tightly onto his bag as she continues to follow. His stop seemed somewhat abrupt to her and she bumbs into him softly, looking up before he turns around. Lek's words hurt, of course. However, they were true and she couldn't help but smile a bit, covering her mouth soon after she notices her expression. "But I am selfish," she says simply. "And, I want to see you before you try and run off or something." Kisling had a feeling he would. Did Kayla fail to keep him with her too? Was he that adamant about not being around her? [18:58] (no name) Lek flatbrowed a little as it seemed like she was smiling. What? No. Maybe you're seeing things, or her lips would tensing up. Then again it was Lumi, so maybe she was trying to smile to lighten the mood? It was still.. a little odd. Taking a deep breath he would continue, as if just flushing out feelings to her once she admitted. "Ya'know?! Do ya even fuckin' think 'bout how all dis is makin' me feel?! But nah. Ya jus wanna do what -you- think is best. Well it's not best. Jus go ba-...jus... stop it." He turned around and started walked away a little faster. Lek's voice had grown weaker and even slightly shaken while he ranted. Noticing his blurt all that out he would at least stop himself before saying more, last thing the guy needed was to do something embarassing like cry. [19:03] Kisling takes a deep breath, seeming a bit agitated at his accusations. Not thinking about him? He didn't think about her either. It's only returning his behaviour. As he picks up his pace, she does as well, still following him quite dilligently. She reaches out to grab into his bag again, pulling him back a bit in hopes that he'll face her a third time. Where does he get off about feelings and shit? He's the one who left her ass without a word for two years, and then refused to try and explain himself. Lek could give her that courtesy, she's sure. "Hey!" If he resisted, she'd pull again or grab tighter in order to relentlessly follow him. [19:10] (no name) Lek clenched his fist and rubbed the right thumb against the curled up index finger near the fleshy part. Other hand on the backpack that, as she tugged, he would stop to turn. Looking at her weakly before beginning to look forward as if ready to attempt walking off again. Although she would repeat it, looking over in a agitated grunt. He just wanted this to be over with. His expression was almost a plea, "What?" Seeing her was just too difficult. Hell, just knowing she was within 100 miles of him was too difficult. Lek wanted to hold her and pretend like nothing else matters but it did. He didn't need to get her hopes up to crash them back down. [19:15] John Cook (markandrewharris) waves tot he pair on teh street. "Excuse me, folks. Can I have a moment of your time? [19:16] Kisling looks at him with a frustrated expression, her free hand also clenched into a fist. "Where do you get off telling me shit like that? When you're the one who was inconsiderate in the first place." Her tone is low, angry. She'd tried really hard not to resent him for that, to think he had a good reason but the way it stood... him not telling her, it really pissed her off. "The least you could do is tell me. Do you want me gone? I want you to honestly tell me that you don't want me anymore. Why did you leave? Huh?" The setting for this was probably inappropriate, also given that her volume was beginning to increase the more she spoke. Maybe Callista shouldn't have cheered her up last night. Pulling on his backpack again, she starts to drag him away; a nostalgic feeling. If he tried to run off, she'd steal his backpack. Mhm. John's words distract her for a moment as she turns to look at him, "Uh... I guess?" she says, somewhat shly. So bipolar today. [19:25] (no name) Lek took a deep breath as she said what he was waiting to come out of her mouth. Raising his voice at her in frustration, "Incasidareut?! Realley?! I fuckin' did it fo' you! Bu naah, what da fuck you do? Huh!? Ya say it dohn maddah why I'm doin' dis. What if ya got hurt?" He grunted in frustration and looked to her shocked as she said to just say it. Should he? It did seem like if he didn't Lumiere would continue on with this. Clenching his jaw at the thought, was it really time to do something he would hate himself for? Although it seemed the best, he would have to hurt her for Lumiere to finally have some closure and heal. To find someone else in her life and be happy. Biting at his lip he would mutter out, "I'm gunna leave tahmorrow. Dohn try ta follow. I....I dohn waunt you." Uggggggggh. His heart just about ripped up from that. Being dragged he would lower his ground and pull at the backpack with a grunt through his teeth, "Lumi. Stop. It's.. over." His feeling spinning negatively, (c) [19:25] (no name) anger at himself but anger nonetheless. Lek of course didn't channel it at her, he seemed to never actual channel his temper at Lumi like others. Although there was John. It would probably seem like Lek hadn't changed the last three years as he glared over at the man and snapped at him in a brusk tone, "Fuck off!" [19:26] John Cook (markandrewharris) held u pa figner to Mat. "Mind yourself, son." He looks to the nicer girl. "I'm looking for information about a woman who drowned in this town and now haounts the town as a ghost with seaweed hair and water flowing out of her mouth." He said, with a serious face. [19:31] Kisling keeps a grip on Lek's backpack as she hangs her head. Now wasn't the time to be yelling at him, not in the middle of the street. Glancing over at John, she shakes her head, "I'm not sure. I haven't heard about that." The way he took it so seriously, with how that sounded... Normally it would make her laugh but. Ugh. As soon as Lek goes off, she jerks him forward, glaring at him. Had he not grown up at all? Good lord. "You..!" This whole scene was embarrassing. She had to get him somewhere else so they could talk. Looking at John again, she apologizes and starts to drag Lek off again. [19:32] Kisling (honey.martiel): i.e., she's disregarding Lek's words till she gets him alone. u wu So it falls on deaf ears.)) [19:34] (no name) Lek looked at her like he was perfectly innocent, "What?!" and frowned as the other man spoke to him, seeing it as if it was some sort of insult. Especially as he said son, turning around all and laughed in disbelief ((like 'ohnohejustdidnt' type of gesture)) with the shake his head. Hearing about a ghost he would, quite literally think this guy must be insane. Suddenly the man pulled would his baseball bat and point it towards John with a pissed look. His tone was still harsh, "Listen dipshit! I look like yur son?! Fuckin' watch yo mouth bahfo' I bust it!" Although it may have looked almost comical with his stance all 'tough guy' and the bat pointed at his before he stumbled sideways in the same stance as she dragged him away before lowering the belt, "Bah! Let go!" [19:34] John Cook (markandrewharris) calls after them as they leave. "I'm holding a sermon the sunday after next in the townhall during the evenign! I hoep to see you there!" Before he looks around for someone else to randomly talk to. [19:46] Kisling stops after the gate clicks shut and turns around, grabbing his jacket with both hands. "What... is your," she pauses, pushing him against the gate with as much force as possible. "Your issue!?" Wow. Violent much? Not very like you, Lumi. Kisling glares at him, her eyes finding his. Letting go of his shirt, she leans forward as usual and is up in his face. "Tell me again what's over? Who do you not want? Look me dead in the eyes and tell me exactly what you just said." Her tone becomes less angry and more upset the more that she rambles, looking like she might cry by the end of it. Kisling balls her hands into fists that hang down at her sides, continuing to look up at him. "Well?" [19:52] (no name) Lek quirked a brow at the man's words in a mumble, "Da fuck is a sermon?!" Meanwhile he would have got dragged about reluctantly and lowered his head. Memories. Groaning as he stumbled with her, "Lumi.. stop... didn't ya hear meh?!" It pained him already in saying that it was over once, he didn't want to do it again. Stopping abruptly as she turned around with a dumbstruck and upset look on his face. Suddenly grabbed he would just allow her to push him with a step back before his own voice rose, "Calm yoself!" His eyes wouldn't meet hers and constantly look off anytime she tried. Suddenly.. up in his face. Flashbacks right there of about anytime she had every yelled at him three years back. Finally he would back up and try to head for that small door, shouting out as he didn't need to look at her. "IT is ovah. IT's been ovah. Since I left two yers back. -We- done." His posture turned more slumped, "We're done.. I'll be gone so it ain't mean no thang. Jus fo'get me." [19:59] Kisling watches as he scrambles to ditch her, her frustration hitting it's peak. She stomps angrily, like a dissatisfied child. He couldn't even look her in the eyes and say that? "God dammit! You're so pathetic!" she screams, rushing forward and pushing him away from her. "I'm not taking that bullshit from you! You can't even be convincing?!" His lies hurt more than if he had actually meant it. She knew he was lying, he had to be. He couldn't say it to her face and he was terrible at lying to her. Unable to handle it anymore, she falls to the ground in a blubbering heap and tries to text Callista. She takes off her glasses, fumbling with the buttons as her vision becomes blurred with tears. Why did she even try? [20:11] (no name) Lek stopped as she called him pathetic before stumbling forward as she pushed the man. He tensed up completely, his heart seeming to stop as he bit his lip so hard that blood was drawn. He had to really do something to make her hate him, to stop this. What exactly though? He was doing this for her, right? To protect her. But turning around he would hate himself in these actions. Grabbing onto her arms he would slam her, although lightly, against the wall and lean down. Lying through his teeth before sounding rather harsh, "Ya wanna know da truth?! I. Hate. You." And there he might have just died inside. Convincing though. Was that convincing enough? Maybe not. He needed her to HATE him, "I've- I've ahlways hated you. Yur a fuckin' waste ah mah time. Ahlways held meh back at da 'cadamy. Yur. Nahthin. To. Me. So fuckin' drop it. -Now-. Bah'fo-" although whenever she started to cry he would let go of her and back up. Watching her wall down and gave this heartbroken expression. Was that really neccessary? (c) [20:12] (no name) She was.. so persistant. He felt like it was the only way to make her stop trying. His heart seemed to beat painfully and stomach feeling with toxins as he turned to walk away. Each step felt like miles. Going on he would proceed to the motel, this seemed as low as everything could go. [20:23] Kisling leans forward, her hands pressed to the ground as she bites her lip to muffle her sobbing. What the fuck was with him, he could seriously say things like that to her but not look her in the face while he does so? Even if she knew he wasn't being truthful, those words hurt. She forces herself to stand and brushes off her skirt, rubbing her face with her sleeves. "I still don't believe it." She pushes her way through the gate and heads back to her workplace, probably to hide behind some of the bookshelves and sulk while she waited for Callista.

#archive #solenne #sl rp

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