Tumgik
#also by local use i mean like the way people speak languages is kinda different to the official meaning?
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I Think Hypmic's Portrayal of Gender Roles is Kinda Refreshing: An Essay A.K.A. I'm Procrastinating on a Weekend Deadline :)
Hypmic's talking points on gender are hamfisted, corny, and melodramatic. "Maybe...we shouldn't have a wage gap," is not the hottest of takes. However, like most things in Hypmic, the writers have a lot more to say about gender and gender roles in the framing of the story itself that's much more nuanced. And honestly? It's kinda refreshing.
It's also something that went way over my head when I first became a Hypmic fan. Sure, I read manga and played Japanese video games--usually translated into English first--but I didn't have enough exposure to hundreds or thousands of pieces of untranslated Japanese media. I'm going to guess that most Hypmic fans don't either, which is totally fine and normal. We all exist within our respective cultural communities wherein we're bombarded with messages constantly telling us how to act, think, and speak. We tend to absorb these messages on subconscious levels and reflect them in the art we create and stories we tell, either by reinforcing them or challenging them. Thus, our stories don't exist in a vacuum, and divorcing stories from their cultural backgrounds can suggest the artist is the original thinker of a larger concept or hide their specific point of criticism. That is, if I wrote a story about a man who chooses to not catch fish, drink beer, and drive a Dodge Ram pick-up truck, we should be aware that I'm not the person who conceptualized the stereotype of dudes who catch fish, drink beer, and drive pick-ups. I wouldn't deserve the credit for dreaming up that exact image, and at the same time, it would be incorrect to read that as me targeting those three things randomly. The choice to not drive a Dodge Ram pick-up is not a commentary on Fiat Chrysler Automobiles. It's a stand-in for the notion of masculinity.
Thing is, we're hit with messages about masculinity, femininity, and other gender-related concepts on a daily basis. No matter where you live or what language you speak, every person on Earth is inundated with messages saying, "This is what you are, and consequently, this is how you should act." Our relation to these messages is complicated, and this complexity is compounded by different cultural communities preaching different messages in their stories, marketing, and human interactions. For instance, the US's massive global cultural influence means that those outside the US can still easily recognize what I mean by catching fish, drinking beer, and driving enormous American pick-up trucks. But the location and cultural differences may add or subtract nuances. A person living in, say, Munich is unlikely to have Dodge pick-ups advertised to them the way a person in rural Texas would. Our fictional Munich person does not feel the same social pressures to buy a Dodge and represent their masculinity with a Dodge the way our imaginary Texan would. In turn, the Munich person likely sees a Dodge with an element of absurdity--who the hell needs such a big truck in a European city?--and foreign Americanness. The Texan wouldn't have that concern--why worry about navigating your enormous truck down narrow streets when you live in the countryside?--and sees Americanness as their local default, thus removing any element of foreignness.
That is to say, gendered messages aimed at people (especially women) who live in Japan don't affect me the same way as they impact those who do live in Japan. Like, it's not my dog in the fight, and there are plenty of people who are directly affected who write their own stories and commentaries on gender roles in Japan. Japanese women don't need a random guy in the US to stand up and say, "Damn, your gender roles are fucked!" 1) They already know. 2) They're already saying it. So I come at this from an angle of someone who already has deep, primary frustration with the gendered messaging in my culture and secondary frustrations when similar messages appear in other cultures. I don't have a bone to pick with Japanese media in particular. Plain and simple, reading and working on hundreds of pieces of Japanese media is what I do for a living. It's in my face constantly, and as a result, I am also perpetually bombarded by messages about gender roles in Japanese media.
It's not a hot take to say that Japanese media, like the media of every single other culture around the globe, has a lot to say about gender. There's a lot of slotting people into boxes and telling people what to do. It's chafing, as we see all across history in art produced in reaction to gender roles. In the past couple of decades, global shifts in gender roles have caused media to shift the messages they're pushing, but it's not controversial to say that Japan has lagged behind other countries like the US.
Many, many stories push arbitrary notions of how to be a girl or how to be a boy that don't necessarily come from the author themselves. The authors probably aren't even fully conscious that they're making these choices. If an author writes a story about a library and makes every female character a romance fan and every male character an action fan, it's likely a reflection of endless messaging that says action is for boys, romance is for girls. In turn, this story becomes yet another reinforcing message. If no fictional girls like action, and no fictional boys like romance, it becomes alienating for real girls and boys who don't follow these same rules. These rules are everywhere and have so much to say about gender that it's hard to know where to begin. Girls must like cute things. Boys can't like sweet food. Women must not express sexual desire. Men can't be shy. On and on and on.
Which is why, when there's a relative lack of this in Hypmic, it's kind of a breath of fresh air.
Wrong Ways to Be a Man
Actually, Hypmic does have a few moments where characters claim there are certain things men or women should do, but the writing always frames these messages as incorrect.
Take Samatoki, for instance. After Kuukou and Sasara leave MCD, Samatoki tells Ichirou, "Men shouldn't cry when they lose their friends. Men should only cry when they lose a family member."
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(TDD chapter 10)
This line usually appears via Ichirou's perspective. In the stage play, it's told during a song Ichirou narrates, and as shown above in panel 3, the manga frames the line from the angle at which Ichirou sees it. In such moments, the audience is meant to read this as a cool line from a strong mentor figure to Ichirou. That's how Ichirou sees it, and he's a seventeen-year-old with too much on his shoulders who idolizes Samatoki. He is incapable of seeing how much pain Samatoki struggles with.
However, when the manga focuses on more intimate moments of Samatoki's life, we see that Samatoki does struggle quite a lot.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 6)
This isn't a cool, attractive figure meant to be idolized. While Samatoki's cigarette usage and aggressiveness are often framed as sexy or enticing, the juxtaposition with dirty laundry, overflowing ashtrays, and empty bottles make him a sympathetic and struggling figure. Therefore, we should understand that his notion that men don't cry is flawed. It's a means to distract himself from emotions he doesn't want to feel.
Later, as Samatoki begins to process his emotions and open up to his teammates, the unhealthy coping mechanisms recede. Samatoki is more confident, mature, and happier as a result of being more emotionally vulnerable.
We see a similar transformation with Kuukou. As a teen, Kuukou is reluctant to accept help or truly let anyone in. In a conversation with Hitoya, he says (and I am still completely unable to take this seriously), "A man's got to wipe his own ass."
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(DH/BAT chapter 4)
However, over the course of his character arc, Kuukou learns that he cannot exist as a good leader or individual without the teamwork of his newfound "family." Only rejecting this classical and toxic notion of masculinity brings Kuukou joy.
In fact, most of the first-line characters have very similar arcs. At the start of the story, Ichirou is insistent on doing everything himself. He has to learn to be able to rely on other people (Kuukou, Samatoki, Ichirou and Jirou) to be happier and unlock his true strength. See below, his final attack and Ability use in the 2nd DRB, which is only possible when his brothers figuratively and literally support him through it.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 25)
Sasara struggles with emotional honesty and trust in favor of using humor to gloss over discomfort. It takes multiple heart-to-hearts with Roshou before he can let humor take a backseat and say how he really feels. Ramuda has difficulty trusting other people and being honest with his emotions when faced with stressful scenarios. Only through Fling Posse is he able to open up and ask for help instead of driving people away when the problems are too big for him to face alone. Jakurai struggles to connect with other people, work through and acknowledge his complicated feelings, and not place himself on a pedestal. Through Matenrou, Jakurai is able to ask for help, be more open, and ultimately be less hard on himself.
The second- and third-line characters follow similar arcs, and this repetition creates a core message for Hypmic: Trust and rely other people. Be open with your feelings. There's a wrong way to be a man, and that's to hurt yourself and other people.
Right Ways to Be a Man...Are Infinite!
But with that being said, there is a surprising lack of commentary on how else to be a man. Hypmic as a whole doesn't do much to constrain the male characters in terms of gender roles.
Sure, some characters do fit into more traditionally masculine roles--Ichirou, Samatoki, Riou, etc. The messaging makes it clear that it isn't wrong to play into masculinity provided it doesn't become toxic. (See above.)
Even then, however, these especially masculine characters are associated with less masculine traits that are either portrayed positively or not portrayed as a joke. Riou is an avid cook, but the joke is never that he wears an apron and knows his way around an outdoor kitchen (tee-hee, men don't cook!). It's that he cooks with horrifying ingredients. Samatoki is a fashionista, but the joke is framed as a counterpart to Ichirou's nerdiness.
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(DoD chapter 1)
Here, it's funny that neither of them can shut up (the ペラペラ/blah blah SFX, the long bubbles filled with lots of text that's cut to indicate they kept going for longer), but the object of their attention--a model toy and a pair of jeans--are treated in the same neutral light. It's very common for stories to touch on, even defensively, the social taboo of men being into clothes. Hypmic doesn't even acknowledge that such a taboo could exist.
This is subtle but extraordinarily effective in giving characters the same consideration and weight. The more feminine characters are always treated just as sincerely (or, if there's a joke to be made, irreverently) as the more masculine characters. Take Ramuda, for instance. In Japanese media, a love of sweets is often characterized as feminine and will often be remarked upon, even in LGBT+ media, as atypical for men. Again, there's zero acknowledgement of such a thing in Hypmic. Whenever other characters talk about Ramuda's food intake, it's always framed as a concern about the lack of nutrition.
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(FP/M chapter 11... I don't have the source lying around on my computer, so here's the old-ass scanlation lol)
It's also given the exact same weight as anyone else's junk food habits. Here, MCD goes out for burgers (a neutral to masculine-coded food due to the meat and high calorie count) while Ramuda opts to try a sugary Starbucks-esque drink. The parallelism in the comic's framing suggests that the two objects are functionally the same, and there is no comment that a sugary drink is feminine and therefore "inappropriate" for Ramuda. There's also no indication that MCD's preferences are in any way better. They simply happen to be the characters' personal preferences. The punchline is two groups splitting up, only to awkwardly run into each other again moments later.
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(DoD volume 4 bonus comic)
Similarly, Ramuda's interest in clothes or fashion is never treated negatively--in fact, the discussions of clothes as a means to find identity and happiness make it a positive!
In ARB cards and promotional materials, Ramuda sometimes wears dresses. It's, again, portrayed in parallel to other characters wearing more masculine clothes and is never commented on as something "unusual." It's just who Ramuda is.
Hifumi is another interesting case. Like Ramuda, his playful personality often doesn't as stereotypically masculine. (To be clear, I read much of this as "gender neutral with a strong emphasis on youth" versus "feminine" in a way that I'm not sure has a good US equivalent...metrosexual/yuppie men's fashion, maybe? In the sense that it's a youth subculture that defies some masculine gender roles but is still focused mainly on men. I wish I was more well-versed in Japanese men's fashion and could give an exact term, but I'm what I'm thinking of is definitely an established thing--young, trendy dudes whose styles focus on poppiness vs. the rugged manly man or "idk, I'm just some guy" subcultures. It's a thing that pisses off old Japanese conservative men in the same fashion as people getting up in arms about "the gayz!!!1!" and their androgynous clothing lol.) Their personalities are often the butt of jokes, but only in the same way that Dice or Doppo are--that is, that they're exaggerated and over the top. There's no commentary on masculinity or lack thereof.
There are also moments when Hifumi, Gentarou, or other characters play feminine characters in roleplay moments, which is usually (but not always) not the sole joke. The audience is supposed to find it funny, but the humor is almost always centered on the absurdity of the scene as a whole. For instance, in a moment where Hifumi and Doppo are pretending to be two drunk karaoke-goers, the humor comes from the composite set-up of Hifumi's hair twirl, Doppo's untucked shirt and tie, Doppo and Hifumi's exaggeratedly flirtatious poses, the spotlights and sparkles, and the same font as used on classic karaoke machines.
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(FP/M+ September 2022 oneshot)
Hifumi and Doppo do not perform traditional gender roles in their homelife, and while it's easy to see and often commented on in the English-speaking fanbase when it comes to Hifumi, I find it just as prevalent on Doppo. It's true that Hifumi is taking a feminine role by doing the majority of the household's cooking and cleaning, but if we were to assume Doppo has the masculine role in the household, he would have the breadwinner duty. However, he isn't the main source of income for their household, and he's just as unassertive in finding a (female) romantic partner as Hifumi is. Japanese men are bombarded with media messages stressing the importance of taking an active role in career and romance. That Doppo does not would, in many stories, make him the butt of a joke for not living up to masculine gender roles. But he isn't; instead, Hypmic portrays him as a sympathetic character. It's tough, Hypmic says, for people to get good jobs and maintain friendships/relationships as an adult.
Similarly, it's noteworthy that Hifumi's self-appointed term "Gigolo" is consistently portrayed as a good thing in Hypmic. The meaning of the English term aside, the Japanese word ジゴロ (jigoro) is almost always used as an insult for a man who is financially dependent on one or multiple women. In the strictest sense of the term, Hifumi is a jigoro in that his income derives from his female clients. However, there is never any shame associated with that, and as a whole, Hifumi's career as a host is shown to be a positive thing. I can't express enough how rare that is in any sort of semi-serious media. Certainly, Hypmic acknowledges that his job requires too much drinking (Doppo's verse in Hoodstar), but the overall portrayal is overwhelmingly positive. Hifumi and his coworkers are never treated as uneducated, boorish, or pathetic for "failing" to find other work that does not require flirting with and entertaining women. (This is partially due to the overlapping judgment with sex work.)
All the various harmless preferences and personality traits of the male characters are treated equally with no judgement over what's masculine or non-masculine. Within the broader context of Japanese media, this absence of judgment stands out and reinforces one of Hypmic's core themes: Differences make us better, not worse. In the end, Hypmic suggests, there's no one right way to be a man.
Right Ways to Be a Woman...Are Just as Infinite!
But what about women? This series is, after all, marketed mainly towards women, and while female audience members can no doubt extrapolate the lessons learned from the male characters, it's worth taking a look at the female characters too.
The female characters do receive much less screen time than the men and are not the focus in the series; I'd argue that's less an issue of overt sexism and more that they fall out of focus in the story the writers want to tell. (There's a broader discussion to be had about inherent sexism in the writers' focus which goes hand-in-hand with rap industries across the globe favoring men and rap being an example of exaggerated masculinity, but that's a topic for another day.)
Even so, the framing of the female characters is interesting in a couple key respects. The individual character arcs and motivations of the main female characters are, in my opinion, some of the weakest parts of Hypmic--many times, Otome and Ichijiku do things because the plot demands them to, making them look incompetent or needlessly cruel for characters we're supposed to sympathize with. Nemu's story seems to be handled with more care and takes an interesting twist, wherein she openly acknowledges that she's disenfranchised as a woman in modern Japan but rejects the notion that she needs to find strength on either Ichirou or Samatoki's (male) terms. By choosing to be strong in "her own way" (whatever that means...it's not well-defined), the authors are using Nemu to reject the notion that strength and power are inherently masculine.
What I find to be far more interesting is the character design for the Chuuouku women, both in what is said and what is not said.
To begin with, the characters and their portrayals run the gambit from highly sexualized to completely non-sexual. Some characters (especially Ichijku and Honobono) have conventionally attractive, curvy body types and are often drawn in ways that highlight their bodies.
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(FP/M+ chapter 4)
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(FP/M+ chapter 14)
In some cases, especially Honobono's, the enticing nature of the illustrations is framed as the character's choice; in the above, her words indicate that she wants to seduce the off-screen listeners. The images included above are largely representative of these characters' raps, regardless of illustrator.
But on the flip side, other characters with large breasts or hips are never drawn in a sexual fashion. By way of comparison, here are two shots of Nemu rapping.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 12)
Even in shots with dynamic poses, no attention is drawn to Nemu's figure in any sort of provocative sense. Nemu touches her chest, drawing the reader's eye there, but the artist does not emphasize the size of her chest--they're allowing a chest touch to be no more than an emphasis of the self. At the same time, Nemu's body isn't downplayed. We can see in panel 2 on page 2 that Nemu has a small waist and wider hips, but once again, she isn't being sexualized. The action lines draw the reader's eye to Samatoki and thus put the action first and foremost. This creates the idea that not only can characters portray themselves sexually, but they can just as easily choose not to.
We see similar with Otome, who does not wear any sort of revealing clothing and is never shown in a sexual fashion. However, Hypmic doesn't equate revealing clothing to sexual portrayals either! While I wouldn't call Tsumabira's outfit revealing, she does have more visible cleavage than most Chuuouku figures. However, her bare chest is never sexualized like Ichijiku's.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 4)
Compare the non-emphasis on the chest and the power stance to any of the many shots of Ichijuku where her breasts are front and center in the camera. Speaking of power stance, Tsumabira remains confident in her power stance without being sexy--that is, no stepping on the camera and showing her whole leg.
Which isn't to say that Tsumabira is a sexless character. She's drawn visibly turned on by the male characters in such a way that is cartoonish but not, in turn, overly sexual. Were this supposed to be titillating to the reader, I would have expected to see a larger close-up on her face and tongue. However, the artist (who is no stranger to focusing on tongues!) devotes the majority of the panel to Tsumabira's body language (which, again, doesn't absurdly exaggerate any of her proportions or focus on her chest) and covers part of the mouth with text bubbles. Tsumabira is drawn as engaging in sexual behavior without being sexualized for reader entertainment.
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(FP/M+ chapter 4)
The juxtaposition of such different views with little to no judgement attached to any of them suggests that it's perfectly okay to want to be sexy or not, to wear revealing clothing or not, to be involved in sexual situations without being the object of sexual interest, or to simply exist with an attractive body type without sex ever coming into the equation. Just as some characters choose to tie bodies to sexiness, some don't whatsoever--and either is perfectly fine!
The former idea ("I can choose to be sexy") may not sound especially revolutionary to US audiences, where sexuality is thrust upon women willingly or otherwise, but I find it fascinating because it lets the main characters embrace this idea without associated slut shaming. So much of Japanese media insists that women should be sexy but are also wrong for wanting to indulge in their own sexuality. Therefore, having characters who run virtually every iteration of take on the topic (I want to engage in sexuality and be sexualized, I want to engage in sexuality without being sexualized, I don't want to engage in either) with multiple body types (ie, Tsumabira isn't automatically not sexualized because she has a smaller chest; Nemu isn't automatically sexualized because she has a bigger chest) and no judgement involved feels like another breath of fresh air to me.
As a whole, I find the diversity of the Chuuouku uniforms and character appearances quite interesting. They're undeniably all feminine and relatively militaristic, but different characters wear entirely different wardrobes. Skirts vs pants, blouses vs dresses, high heels vs boots... Since every character has her own take on the common theme, it once again feeds into the idea that each character is her own individual and perfectly valid for defining femininity in her own way.
Haircuts, too, range from longer and more feminine hairstyles to pixie cut-esque looks.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 16)
Again, nothing of the framing suggests this short-haired woman is in any way different from her longer-haired counterparts on the edges of this screenshot.
Finally, while most Chuuouku women are conventionally attractive, I find it extremely compelling that Haebaru is a stereotype of an unattractive Japanese woman. To be extremely clear, I do not think these stereotypes should have weight, but the combination of chubby and/or muscular build, freckles, rounded nose, and non-glossy hair is often used as a visual shorthand for unattractive or otherwise undesirable women.
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Sure, it's not fantastic that Haebaru is a scheming, two-bit villain. However, so is virtually every other female character in the series, and in particular, Haebaru is (the conventionally attractive) Tsumabira's counterpart. Both are treated with the same respect or lack thereof, suggesting that one's appearance has nothing to do with your ability to be a no-good baddie. Ha ha ha.
It would be lovely if the female characters were fleshed out further and given intelligent choices and diversity outside of the realms of physical appearance. However, I do think the writers' choices are limited by virtue of all women automatically being antagonistic side characters (which, again, is another discussion altogether). What the writers can and have accomplished is further reinforcing a celebration of differences. Just as there's no one right way to be a man, there's an infinite number of ways to be a scheming snake of a woman HAHA.
Intersection with LGBT+ Topics
Unfortunately, this is a very binary look at gender and gender roles, which, while largely representative of the current state of Japanese media, can be disappointing.
Hypmic appears to want to steer shy of LGBT+ topics as a whole, which is a bit of a shame. In a story so focused on gender and acceptance of diversity, it seems the natural next step to explore the notion of those who experiences don't align with a strict gender binary. Such stories are growing in popularity in Japanese media but have yet to be anywhere near the mainstream acceptance in US media (which is still in a fledgling stage at best). I would imagine Hypmic's writers are unable or unwilling to take a definite stance on these topics in the work due to fears of financial or career backlash. If nothing else, the sexuality of the main characters needs to remain in a limbo in order to have plausible deniability for both self-shipping and shipping with other characters. (Some deniability may be more plausible than others.)
The few instances in which Hypmic does wander into this territory are usually clumsy. I am no fan of the handful of scenes where male/male attraction is supposed to be funny purely by virtue of being male/male.
The inclusion of Urumi, the one minor character explicitly LGBT+, is not stellar either. I am hesitant to apply any definite label to her, as the real-life people her stereotype portrays self-identify as everything from trans women to cis men--or refuse to use these English labels at all! Still, we know from her profession (proprietor of a bar heavily implied to be a gay bar by the neighborhood it's in), appearance (poofy permed hair, exaggerated make-up), and demeanor (feminine speech style, a bit flirtatious) that she's AMAB and choosing to present herself in a feminine fashion. By writing Jirou to ask, "Aren't you a man?" in an exasperated fashion, the writers have put her gender presentation in a boke role--suggesting she's over-the-top, exaggerated, comedic. It's not great. I completely understand why readers find it offensive (and it is) even while I don't think the writers intended it that way. Ultimately, it would have been great to see other explicitly LGBT+ characters portrayed without the joking angle.
With that said, I'm not entirely unhappy with her character. She is a stereotype, but the authors have chosen to take only the visual elements of the stereotype and leave the rest on the cutting room floor. In other works of fiction, characters like Urumi are often hypersexual to the point of being in-universe creepy, especially towards underage boys. Other times, characters like her may be eccentric or off-putting in other ways. However, that's not at all the case here. Urumi seems to play a helpful big sister/aunt role in Jirou's life, and he's clearly comfortable enough with her to spend the night at her bar.
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(BB/MTC+ chapter 17. "Sorry, but can I shack up here again tonight?" "Of course you can.")
While she seems to engage in some sort of a bohemian lifestyle, as evidenced by the alcohol and smoking, it isn't anything outside of what many of the other characters do. Additionally, while she isn't drawn in a flattering fashion in scenes where she's playing up her persona (which is par for the course with any character in this series, regardless of gender), there are plenty of neutral shots of her being serious. Finally, the art is never outright rude--that is, she isn't drawn exaggeratedly masculine or flamboyantly...snakey? I don't know how to describe this to anyone who's lucky enough to have never seen this--clearly LGBT+ AMAB characters drawn with noodly limbs and huge, overblown lips winding around male characters.
Maybe because I see so much worse continuing to be produced in this day and age, I feel like Hypmic could have done a much, much worse job with this character. She overall plays a positive role and is treated with much the same care as other side characters. It's unfortunate, then, that the writers have chosen to make her gender presentation the subject of a joke.
In other frustrations, I heavily dislike the unnecessary gender divide in background characters. All punks and other background baddies are male, whereas all adoring fans are female. (But Rhyme Anima has done an interesting job of subverting this!) The vast majority of other background figures fall into strict gender roles, which is likewise disappointing. It appears that diversity may be an accepted trait for none but a lucky few that form the main Hypmic cast.
All in all, I don't think Hypmic's portrayal of gender roles is groundbreaking, nor do I think it's fair to suggest that all Japanese pop culture plays into strict gender roles. There are certainly many Japanese works, popular or otherwise, with much more interesting things to say about gender. However, when compared to the vast majority of the titles that cross my desk on a regular basis, I notice and appreciate the level of care put in to Hypmic's commentary on gender roles. The work consistently reinforces the notion that it's okay to be your own individual, no matter how that plays into your gender, and I find that freeing. That's a message we could all do to hear more often, regardless of culture and language.
TL;DR: Oh no, my rapidly approaching deadline. :)
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thejewitches · 1 year
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So I kinda grew up in an evangelical environment, and I'm just now able to expose myself to and learn about other religions. The only things I learned about Judaism growing up were likely very twisted to suit the teachings of the pastors. I heard a lot about "messianic Jews" (which I now know is very much not a thing) and how "a lot" of Jewish people converted because they began to believe that Jesus was the messiah (yeah it was bad, really bad)
Anyways since I'm trying to educate myself, I'm trying to not just read about other religions, but if possible, I'm trying to read the holy books of the religions as well. I talked to a Muslim friend I had at work and he told me I could read the Quran (I guess I felt weird about reading it because I wasn't looking to convert to Islam). In the same vein, could I read the Talmud to learn more? I was told that the Bible and the Talmud were the same growing up (so there was no point in reading it, according to my elders, also incorrect information). Is there a particular translation that would be better to read?
Very sorry for all the parenthetical statements I was trying to keep it brief but I have severe adhd so thoughts just come at they please. Love your blog, and I'm very happy to be learning a lot from you already, and unlearning a lot in the process, so thank you for posting resources and the like. Very appreciated.
Could I read the Talmud to learn more?
The short answer is: Reading the Talmud without knowing how or what you are reading will not give you the information you are looking for. The sentiment of reading to learn more is wonderful, but on your own without any prior learning, it is tantamount to reading a book in a language you don't speak to understand the poetry of the language better. You can do it, but you won't have the tools to decipher it in any meaningful way. If you want to learn more about Judaism, studying Talmud is definitely not the place to start.
There is something called Daf Yomi where Jews study one single page of Talmud every single day. With 2,711 pages in the Talmud, one Daf Yomi cycle takes about 7 years, 5 months--and it takes this long because studying the Talmud to understand the Talmud is not just reading a book. There are ways you can just read it, sure, but that doesn't mean you will be learning or understanding what you are reading in the way that Jews do (just as you can read a series of random words without actually comprehending what is in front of you).
If you're looking to study Talmud, have you studied Torah with Jews? Begun to understand the Jewish perspective on the Torah? How we approach our texts with a completely different eye than Christians? How the Old Testament you grew up with may look nothing like what we know and love?
If you're certain that the answer to those questions is yes, and you feel ready to start learning Talmud, see if there is a local rabbi in your area who offers a class or a seminar. Many are free. It is meant to be a community activity. But chances are, that isn't the case.
But frankly: you don't need to study Talmud to learn about Jews and Judaism. There is no need for that. The best way to learn about Judaism is always going to be listening to Jews. Listen to our conversations, hear us, and read the resources we create to share about Judaism. One of the greatest barriers that people often face is shedding the unrealized paradigm and perspective that is left from an evangelical upbringing. Challenging those perspectives is paramount.
If you feel more than a small draw to know, you can go ahead and study Torah, and maybe eventually study Talmud, but if all you want is to know more about Judaism, studying Talmud is not step one.
This is the layout of a Talmud page in Hebrew--it is much more than just a straightforward reading, especially if you want to genuinely engage with the text.
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This is, of course, but the opinion of one. The Jewish community is made up of more opinions than individuals and all deserve to be heard.
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startrekgaysex · 2 months
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why did you discontinue the turkish house project :(
that's actually a great questionnn because I loved the turkish house MD adaptation translation project and I think about it every other day
It wasn't one thing or the other but rather a combination of things, mainly:
Getting the episodes was a huge hustle: I had to pay for the Kanal D app subscription that would ONLY work on mobile, then screenrecord the episodes, making SURE that my notifications were completely off and that no pop ups would interrupt the 45 minute run of the episode. Goes without saying that I couldn't use my phone for anything during that period
Subbing takes sooo much time. It wasn't the first time I ever subbed but all my previous experience at work and independently was of videos no longer than 10 minutes. A 45 minute episode was huge, and they would take me several hours. Hours I didn't have because of my job (fortunately I got more home office days so I could potentially solve that issue)
Not only is subbing hard, but I DON'T SPEAK TURKISH. to translate the show I was relying on two things: the spanish dub that I got from my Kanal D subscription, and an english subtitled source that was not only of a bad quality but also clearly translated into english by someone who wasn't 100% fluent in English. Now, English is not my primary language either, but I tried to make things at least a bit more cohesive (in hindsight I realize now it was worth trying to run the turkish version through premiere's voice recognition and a reputable translator to cross reference with both the spanish dub and the dubiously subbed version, but it did not occur to me at the time)
The audio situation was HELL. I went above and beyond to try to offer you guys the SOURCE material in the best quality I could achieve. With this I mean, I didn't see any point in offering these episodes with the spanish dubbed audio, personally, as someone who enjoys watching live action in its original language. I made it my mission to switch the audio of my source to the turkish audio from the dubiously subbed version. Here's an issue: not only were there minor synchronization hiccups that I had to localize and fix, but also the turkish run was the two hour long run in opposition to my 45 minute run version so I had to kind of find my starting spot. Not as easy as it sounds when the videos are TWO HOURS LONG and you're working with two different episode numbering systems 😵‍💫
The storage situation was unmanageable since I was using Google Drive at the moment. In hindsight I should have invested my time on further research on other sharing options like uploading it to archive.org or even making my own torrents
But honestly, mainly? There just wasn't as much engagement as I was expecting. That was maybe the biggest thing. Knowing myself I would have kept pushing through for at least two or three more episodes if I knew enough people were interested. I felt like I was going above and beyond for this, working a lot of hours for free on something I was quickly losing passion on and I was doing it all for myself. So I just stopped.
I still have a special place for hekimoglu though, and a passion for rescuing lost media/abandonware that makes me want to give this another try, somewhere in the future. Also I was kinda hooked on the show and wanted y'all to get to the good bits so bad (I did way too much watching ahead). But who knows. At the moment I'm kinda disconnected from house md as a whole and also the fandom so it is possible that someone has found an easier way to access these episodes in good quality and I can just rest in peace. Maybe with house being on Netflix there's more interest from people that have a clue as to how to make the process less tedious. Maybe I could eventually figure out a way to make it work and bring it back. Maybe we could circulate a petition for Kanal D to offer these episodes with english subtitles once again.
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kafkaoftherubbles · 9 months
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话匣子:《致不灭的你》 日语名与英译名的小小想法 - 后续(1)
The original post and bestbonnist's response: this one. This is a response-response!
(1) Localizing To Your Eternity/FnAe names in Chinese/replying to your tag-questions
I don't try to give Chinese names for East Asian characters/names, like Japanese and Korean ones, because they already have their own hanzi/kanji/hanja. On principle, I believe any self-respecting author (hacks, fucking move aside) has a rationale for the names they give. When I Chinese-fied a name, even if it's purely for self-amusement, what I'm doing is also translation—I'm trying to translate the author/writer's intent and meaning to its new language, and yet keep it aligned with the language's medium and context and culture itself. There ain't no need for that when it comes to East Asian names because their meaning is already spelled out.
But, you are spot-on that all that is thrown out of the window when the names are spelled phonetically; in this case, when it's written in katakana instead of kanji. I surmise it's to remind us that Fushi's world may "speak" Japanese to us readers, but they are meant to be not-Japanese. Their writing is different (kinda looks like Devanagari, the Sanskrit script, to me. But that's cause my knowledge of writing scripts is superficial and limited! Ha!), and even when their names "supposedly" sound Japanese, they are phonetic as though it's foreign to Japanese readers.
When things like this happen...
the safest way is to transliterate it. The same way things are done with a foreign name not based on kanji, like English names. Characters like March, Hayase, Parona, Kahaku et al. are translated (according to what I found) as 玛琪 (ma qi),哈亚瑟 (ha ya se),帕罗纳 (pa luo na), and 卡哈库 (ka ha ku) (I'd love to read it for you, but I can't here. So google's sexy robotic voice will have to do!).
Detour: Name translations surprisingly hinge on translators' and editors' breadth of knowledge and depth of understanding, innit? If I miss out on the context and meaning of a name, my translation/localization will lose that part of it. I know people say "things are always lost in translation" but I disagree. I think it's that "things are always a little different in translation", but what's lost may be gained in other ways, especially if the translator is skilled enough to do that—and that's not counting how readers themselves are essentially translating a work into their own knowledge when they internalize it, hence the whole "death of the author" shebang. I don't believe in a purist's take; the purist themself have already translated things their own way the moment they apply their interpretation. Nothing is permanent. Not even the meaning of words! WITTGENSTEIN!!!!
...YO SHIT WHERE WAS I? Oh, yea. There are, however, names that are localized into actual "Japanese authentic" names in FnAe, particularly those who appeared in the Modern Arc (prior to that, I think Fushi is the only one with an actual hanzi name: 不死. Undead). And that is when things get interesting—due to the lack of canonical kanji, it appears that the translators have taken the foreign-name approach and made up what they believe is the right one.
---
Satoru is easily (typically) translated into 悟, like how a certain cocky Gojo's name is written. It means "enlightenment" or "realization", and is thus my preferred translation given who Satoru is. But there was an instance of translating it into 聪, which means "intelligent, clever." Both seem right to me, but I'm partial to stuff like "enlightenment" for... reasons.
Mizuha is fun. You seem to interpret it as 水water羽feather. And I honestly think that's a good one given the things she seems to symbolically be tied to. But! There is one when she's translated as 瑞 叶 (rui ye), which is a very beautiful and highly plausible Chinese name, dang. 瑞 means "good, prosperous, good omen" while 叶 means "leaf". Unfortunately, this will be a name that loses parts of the meaning "Mizuha" likely alludes to... in my opinion. And yet, it may not be wrong still because an educated parent typically DOES give names filled with good meaning and blessing to their child. Why wouldn't Izumi and her husband do the same?
Another more contextually correct translation, by another bunch, for Mizuha would be 水叶 (shui ye), "water leaf". I personally think 水 is the best allusion because of Mizuha's symbolic connection to water, and because Izumi is translated by the same bunch as 泉 (quan), "springwater." I don't have much to say about "leaf" because... well, it's poetic and therefore up to each reader's interpretation of why it's a "leaf". Is she a leaf in a current of water she cannot hope to control?
Yuuki is translated by the first as 勇树 (yong shu), "brave, courage + tree". His name is translated as 祐樹 (you shu), "protection, blessing + tree" by the second. Both are fitting in my eyes, as they emphasize two aspects of his character. The former on his valor, and the latter on his benevolence.
There are plenty more but this part is as bloated as it can be already!
I am not a JP-ENG translator by any stretch. My Japanese status is "I'm learning goddammit" and it's about as good as a pre-schooler's, and even then I think I'm overestimating myself. Anyway, that level can't clear the bar needed to be a good translator, so I don't attempt it at all. However, you can! What kanji would you give this modern arc bunch—or even some Previous Era bunch—that fit their characters?
Oof, looks like I need a part 2 for the others!
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brighteststar707 · 8 months
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Yeah, it's been a long time! I've been doing alright, though! I'm kinda mostly waiting for my last school year to be over and find a job so I can earn money and slowly fix my life the way I want.^^"
The fandom is Blue Period! It's actually my next big focus after Mystic Messenger actually, I even found a character I consider my f/o from there! I got a special box with a sketchbook that is full of drawings and illustrations with really good quality! Since the fandom is not even active, there is stuff in this book that you won't find anywhere else, makes me feel good SMSMSM and one of the best parts is that it's in Japanese! So whenever I have progressed way more, I'll come back and read all the new juicy info and new scenarios I've never seen before, exciting!!!!
I also got some bookmarks and two keychains from there! Although I wasn't kinda happy with the shipping process, I'm still very happy I got them!!
Blue Period has also helped me a lot with my path with art, it has given me plenty of motivation and the main character has opened my eyes to so much about art, too! I felt so seen when he had the same thoughts and experiences as me, even if he does oil painting^^"
You can watch the anime or read the manga if it interests you! If you start with the anime, please check the manga out since there is so much more! If you do anything with art, it might give you motivation just like it did to me.
Learning the language can be fun but it is challenging, haha. They are many words that have different pronunciations and stuff I haven't seen in a language before. I found that listening to people speak makes me remember the words easier haha
I hope you are able to rest well, you're doing great, I reassure you! I'm also so happy I got to speak with you again, it really has been a lot of time, holyyyy!
I'm thinking of starting to use Tumblr when I get more Into art again but I'm still here, I still check some stuff every day when I can! <333
I understand that sentiment. So much changes once you're done with school. I'm rooting for this year to be an easy one for you!
Ooh, I've never heard of Blue Period before, but I looked up the premise and it sounds interesting! I will keep it in mind when I'm in the market for a new anime/manga!
It's so wonderful to be able to pull motivation from the media you enjoy, especially when it's a hobby like art or writing where it sometimes feels like you can hit a wall. Funnily enough, even though it has nothing to do with writing, Mysme is what pushed me to write more often and put more effort into it. It's thanks to these guys that I've been able to develop my skills as far as I have.
That merch sounds so nice! That sketchbook especially sounds really detailed and extra bonus that it's something you won't find elsewhere. It'll be fun to see what else it holds once you progress further in Japanese! Shame about the shipping issues with other merch pieces, but at least they made it to you!
I've had similar experiences learning languages. What I love is that each language says so much about the country's culture. I'm currently attempting to learn Italian, and while it has its difficult and awkward moments (I've messed up in front of locals more times than I can count), I love learning about the expressions and their meanings.
Thank you for your support, it means a lot! I'm taking time to catch my breath and to do the things I enjoy before life gets busy again.
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zawazawanightmares · 2 years
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Nathan Drake & Chef Anna
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You, Nathan Drake, are connected to Chef Anna Your partner selected the 18+ server.
Chef Anna: Hello
Nathan Drake: Hey there. How's it going?
Chef Anna: I am doing well, how about you?
Nathan Drake: Doing pretty good, thanks. Feeling kinda famished though.
Chef Anna: :P
Nathan Drake: So, what's on the menu?
Chef Anna: Hmmm, how about sushi?
Nathan Drake: Sushi...haven't had that in a bit but sure!
Chef Anna: Anyway, do you have any interesting hobbies?
Nathan Drake: Oh, some. I like archaeology, globetrotting, treasure-finding...and some linguistics.
Chef Anna: That's really interesting
Chef Anna: What's globetrotting? Not familiar with that name
Nathan Drake: Just traveling the world, doing stuff, trying the local food, killing the occasional merc, you know.
Chef Anna: Oh, that's wonderful!
Nathan Drake: It's a living!
Chef Anna: You mentioned linguistics, so I've got a question that could use your expertise if you don't mind.
Nathan Drake: Shoot! Probably gonna be stumped if it involves reading Mandarin or speaking in Arabic though.
Chef Anna: Nothing that specific. When borrowing words from another language, which language's pluralization should I use? For example when borrowing a Japanese word when speaking in English, do I keep it the same for plural like you would do in Japanese or use the English rules?
Nathan Drake: Since Japanese and English operate by ENTIRELY different structures...seriously, we actually have more in common with Arabic than we do Japanese...you can just keep it the same for plural since that's how it works in its native language. If someone asks for clarification, just tweak it accordingly until they get it.
Chef Anna: I see. Sometimes when using terminology from Japanese I keep thinking if I should add the "s" at the end for plural so it wouldn't cause confusion.
Nathan Drake: Conjugation will always be the biggest hurdle when you're trying to translate things for people.
Chef Anna: Yes. Especially when that term either doesn't exist in English, or can have other meaning so I need to use the Japanese word to prevent confusion.
Chef Anna: Though sometimes people in other countries use the term differently, so you need to consider the audience before choosing the word.
Nathan Drake: Ah, ya gotta love the untranslatable terms...or the ones that have separate meanings depending on where you are. I remember getting punched in the face in West Africa for giving a guy double thumbs up.
Chef Anna: That's really cool to learn, because it opens the mind into different though patterns that might have not developed without learning of that part of the language and culture. Also didn't know it was rude to give thumbs up in West Africa.
Nathan Drake: Apparently it's the middle finger over there. I know that now though!
Chef Anna: That's interesting, but I guess it makes sense that cultures that developed separately would develop different gestures just like they develop different languages.
Nathan Drake: You're telling me. Coming back to your own place can be quite the culture shock.
Chef Anna: I know, I lived in Japan for a few years and when I moved back I got a reverse culture shock.
Nathan Drake: Oh, Japan is a huge adjustment period especially for people from the west. Different way of viewing society, different views on how to celebrate their culture, get really uppity when you bring over guns...
Chef Anna: Hahaha. I never lived in a country where guns were a part of the culture, just something people get if their jobs requires it or they collect antiques. But yes, there were a lot of things that I never noticed about my own home until I came back.
Nathan Drake: For one thing, assuming you're American, over here we encourage individualism. We respect lone wolves and self-made men despite neither of those really being a thing. But in Japan, everything you do has to be for the group. That means you always have someone looking after you...but if you're different, you're screwed and it's always your fault.
Chef Anna: While I am not an American, I live in a western country, and we value individualism. And Japan is indeed more of a collective society (if that's the correct terminology?), I remember receiving an interesting lecture about it there from a historian and anthropologist (forgot his name), he explained how the geography and frequency of disasters contributed to the formation of this kind of society
Chef Anna: It was a while ago, so I forgot a lot of the details.
Chef Anna: Though these days, younger people in Japan are slowly adopting western values of individualism too.
Nathan Drake: Oh yeah...remember that Eartquake that happened decades ago and the news over here were confused by how the Japanese banded together to help each other and there were no looting or rioting because of it?
Chef Anna: Exactly!
Chef Anna: Also the lack of natural resources contributed to a society that is less consumerism (although after the westernization of Japan post WWII and the economic boom in the 70's that changed).
Chef Anna: Kimono(s) are especially easy to recycle and upcycle.
Nathan Drake: Love those things. I like that you brought up westernization though because it reminded me of one of my trips to Japan where I noticed something...not much national pride outside of the old and the middle-aged.
Chef Anna: That's true. A lot of people are very much aware of the flaws in Japanese society. Especially the lack of work-life balance in corporate Japan.
Nathan Drake: Exactly. Then there's the whole "the higher political figures refuse the war crimes" thing (Though I still think MacArthur could have handled the Emperor's apology better...)
Chef Anna: True. Though historical schoolbooks were very much hiding the severity of the Japanese war crimes, people are still aware of it. I also think that patriotism has been declining in most of the western world as well, which has direct influence on Japan.
Nathan Drake: Oh hell yeah, definitely. Did anyone even notice the Fourth of July this year?
Chef Anna: I am not an American, but I do follow American news and politics closely. America is very divided, there are groups of MAGA radicals who call themselves super "patriotic" though I would argue that they don't value the constitution, so they can't really be patriots.
Nathan Drake: I am so sorry for the fact that I keep assuming you're American. If you're from the UK, I suppose a more relevant example is Brexit, the fallout of that and what's going on with Boris right now.
Nathan Drake: Or you could be Canadian...and there's some stuff going on with indigenous folks over there...'course, there always were but...
Chef Anna: No worries, with how much I follow American media, I could easily be mistaken for an American. And while I am not British either, I do keep an eye on it too. I currently live in the Netherlands.
Nathan Drake: Ah...I've heard nothing about that country except for the minorities disproportionately arrested. Otherwise, not bad...aside from the usual "treat different people different" that's everywhere.
Chef Anna: That does happen, but not nearly as much as it does in the US or the UK. There are certain parts of the country where there is more discrimination, but I think it is generally going in a good direction (as a long term trend).
Chef Anna: Although I do notice an increase in massive American pickup trucks that are too big for the streets here, which is not a good sign.
Nathan Drake: Oh trust me, no one's gonna beat the US and the UK there. It's literally the only thing bad I hear about the Netherlands and it's worse everywhere else so don't be too worried about it.
Chef Anna: Yes, though it is good that it is being mentioned, because the more awareness of the problem, the more likely it will be mitigated.
Chef Anna: There is a pretty big controversy about a Dutch Christmas tradition which some claim to be racist and others say it is not. I think it is racist, but it would be easily solved by modifying that tradition in a way that wouldn't be.
Nathan Drake: Ah yes...the infamous "Black Pete".
Chef Anna: Oh, so it reached international news?
Nathan Drake: It's been well known for a while. I saw it once on a trip but I've seen it referenced on humor sites like Cracked, shows like Robot Chicken and Atlanta and you know every once in a while, someone on social media is going to show a picture of a person in blackface in Netherlands and use it as a "gotcha!" when another person notes how progressive the country is.
Chef Anna: Makes sense. I think it also depends on where you are in the Netherlands, bigger cities are a lot more progressive than smaller and older communities, which is probably true in most of the world.
Nathan Drake: Seems to be a constant rule because bigger cities get more attention and see more tourists so easier for them to absorb different cultures.
Chef Anna: Also conservatives are less likely to leave their hometown, so they are less likely to meet many people outside of their community, but when you live in a major city, there are people from all over the country and the world there that you interact with daily, so it is much easier to leave that racist mindset (though some biases stay subconsciously).
Nathan Drake: Gotcha. Easiest way to get rid of prejudices is to travel as some racist guy said.
Chef Anna: Exactly. The more you interact with people who are different, the harder it is to keep these ignorant views.
Chef Anna: There was an American black guy (a musician) forgot his name, who befriended many KKK members, and eventually they left the KKK and got their friends and family to leave the KKK. It is really hard to be friends with someone and still believe they are lesser humans.
Chef Anna: There is* he is still alive
Nathan Drake: I've heard of him. Daryl Davis. Pretty cool guy.
Chef Anna: Yup, that's his name. To me, this is the closest we can get to a real life super-hero.
Nathan Drake: There are so many ways to do what he did wrong and he pulled it off in the most spectacular way possible.
Chef Anna: Exactly. It could have easily ended in tragedy, he could have been killed at so many points. He has the patience of a saint, and the charisma to make people like him despite their racism.
Nathan Drake: Trust me, charisma can get you far in a lot of places...and so can luck, actually. I gotta jet but you're really fun to talk to.
Chef Anna: True. Good bye! I had a lot of fun!
You left the chat
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princekirijo · 3 years
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As the resident native German speaker I can say that, yeah technically you can use "Ich liebe dich" the same way you use "I love you", aka to express love in general, not just the romantic kind. BUT usually "Ich liebe dich" is something I've seen only being used for the romantic sense.
Honestly my personal experience was always:
"Ich liebe dich" = romantic context
"Ich hab dich lieb" = can be romantic, but usually used for platonic/familiar love
Then again my experience isnt universal, but when I saw that line from Shiho my first thought was "CANON LESBIAN SHIHO????" so eh 🤷‍♂️
Aaahhh ok I see I see thank you for clarifying.
Probably what happened was the translation team thought oh ich liebe dich can be used in any case and went with that, without realizing that the "local" use is romantic only. Either way win for the sapphics 😌
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So I’m not entirely certain of what the state of non-Federation Standard languages are in Star Trek (and I know there are several episodes of Voyager that totally dispel my little scenario here but, listen, I still like this idea so bear with me) but I just think it would have been really cool if, during Voyager’s journey home the Universal Translator broke for an episode and suddenly everyone on board can’t understand each other because, as it would turn out, no one except maybe Janeway and Tom is fluent in Federation Standard. Like:
- B’Elanna speaks a combination of Spanish and Klingon and there is absolutely no rhyme or reason behind when she speaks which (that anyone else can tell, at least. She does have a pattern of when she uses certain words - usually based on whichever language she feels describes what she is explaining more accurately). Sometimes she switches mid-thought. Ayala speaks only in Spanish so the two of them buddy up during this episode and actually become stronger friends after this.
- Tuvok, obviously, speaks Vulcan. He didn’t think learning Standard was logical since the Universal Translators existed and he would rather spend his time learning more immediately useful skills. He and Vorik also speak slightly different dialects so conversations between them are a little slow since they have to untangle local metaphors and slight differences in their vocabulary. 
- Tom speaks Standard, but he picked up French in his time at the academy and actually preferred that so he has been speaking French the whole time. He can speak Standard but, quite honestly, his Standard has gotten just a little rusty and he keeps accidentally slipping back into French. He swears in English though.
- Chakotay is speaking his tribe’s language. He does speak enough Standard to get by, but it’s been a while so he’s out of practice. He also speaks a little Spanish, so he can somewhat converse with B’Elanna and Ayala. 
- Neelix, obviously, speaks Talaxian. 
- Janeway speaks Standard, but she swears in Irish Gaelic. She also understands a little Klingon (not enough to really keep up with B’Elanna), some Vulcan (again, not really enough to keep up with Tuvok) and, like, one semester’s worth of Modern Bajoran (not very helpful since there are so few Bajorans on board). She’s not having a good day and feels somewhat guilty about how heavily she has been relying on the UT over the years instead of studying her colleagues’ languages.
- Harry speaks Korean and a bit of Standard. The good news is that Tom and Harry know each other so well that they really don’t need to talk, they just kinda gesture at each other and know what’s going on. 
- Seven understands everyone perfectly because of her assimilated knowledge, except for Neelix. Turns out, he actually speaks some backwater dialect of Talaxian and the Borg did not assimilate anyone from his region so she’s only getting about half of what he says. Anyway, Seven ends up having to act as a translator during senior officer’s meetings, but she keeps shortening what people say and removing metaphors for the sake of efficiency and a lot of the meaning is lost in translation. This becomes a lesson for her in the art of poetry or something.
- It turns out the Doctor’s entire language matrix was built into the Universal Translator, so he is unable to speak or understand anything he says. B’Elanna ends up having to type coded signals to send into his matrix in order to communicate with him in any meaningful way. However, halfway through the episode, he discovers a Federation Standard Sign Language subroutine in his coding so he is able to sign with Seven (Sign Language can be interpreted by the UT, but the knowledge of how to actually sign was programmed into the Doctor himself since it is a non-verbal form of communication). The others end up picking up some of his signing as well and it becomes a really good way for everyone to communicate with each other quickly when Seven isn’t around.
- In the end, they fix the UT and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Tom asks B’Elanna to teach him Klingon and Spanish and she says she will if he teaches her French. B’Elanna ends up making fun of how little sense French makes. Tom actually loves Klingon, but he’s bad at Spanish (even though it’s closer to French than Klingon is. Don’t try to figure Tom Paris out.) Janeway also asks to learn some of Chakotay’s language and he teaches her. They end up speaking in his language a lot after they get back to the Alpha Quadrant and spend time together away from technology and Starfleet. Neelix quickly becomes a fluent signer and pretty much constantly signs while he is also speaking. 
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binniesthighs · 3 years
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call me babydoll | reader x chan
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a/n: ahhhhh wow WOW cuties LOL i was not expecting this fic idea to keep me up in my sleep and occupy all my waking thoughts BUT thank you so so  much for you words of support!! hehe well....here we goooo i hope that ya’ll are ready teehee--also tags will be added as they come! You can read part one here
Two 
Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 
Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 
Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, jeongin in this fic is my bb and i will protect him, sexy and smart jeongin tho still hehe 
CWs: mentions of death, people dying/killing, mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of getting drunk, hungover, and vomiting, a bombing. 
Word count: 5.2k 
Parts
ONE | TWO | THREE
The road was long and winding, pitch black, desolate, quiet and foreign. In the backseat of the car, Chan had slumped his head over on Jeongin’s shoulder and bobbed with the motions of the road. His nose would twitch in his sleep, and he would make little grunts of nonsense words. He had worked himself up after the banquet, and actually hadn’t stopped his “love confessions” until you told him to shut up or you would shut him up. 
Your partner’s glasses were illuminated from the screen of his laptop which he tapped quietly away at. You too felt drowsy, but sleep would be for later once you had properly arrived at the safe house, or safe hotel, or safe hole in the ground...whatever it was. 
“You hear anything from Carroll?” You slung your arm over the seat and lowered your voice. 
“Nothing yet.” His eyes flicked around the screen. “It’s almost like it’s too quiet. I’ve already told her that we have the prince and that he’s safe, but..nothing.” 
“You don’t think...they got targeted too?” 
Chan snored lightly on his bodyguard’s shoulder, and he didn’t dare to move an inch. 
“I sure as hell hope not. But...that would explain why things have been so quiet. If this was a larger scale attack...I don’t know what this could mean then.” 
From the darkness of the outside world in the car windows, you passed a forest of pines and oher types of stoic trees making up the mountainside. 
“Well, I think that we should be optimistic for the time being.” 
Jeongin nodded. He looked to be a mess: blood had splattered at his white shirt collar and in specks on his neck. His cracked lenses however, didn’t keep him from his work. He had pulled his tie loosely around his neck, and had also provided his jacket as a pseudo-blanket of sorts for the prince. The prince, had offered his own jacket to you seeing as you only had your dress, but you had been managing just fine. You accepted it, but only because it could soothe his chivalrous ego. He had a hard night already, so you saw it best. 
“Two, where are you taking us?” You called to the mysterious driver. 
Ever since meeting him at the hotel, he had been nearly silent the whole ride. 
The man cleared his throat, “As far away from here as I can. I don’t know of any safe houses so...I’m just trying to remove us.” 
“I can find one for us if Carroll doesn’t get back to me....which she should...” 
Jeongin was not one for speaking of his mother as anything other than his boss. Since he had been assigned to be your partner a few months ago, he had never referred to her as his mother, nor did he ever seem to harbor any emotion for the stern woman. Both of them had been a bit allusive to you, but that was simply how it was in this line of work. You didn’t know things about the people around you, and you didn’t need to ask. You had wondered if he had worried about her, or thought about her when you were on missions. The young man had trained rigorously, and had passed each exam from the academy with flying colors. After considering it for a while, you figured what immense pressure he must've been under: son of the woman in charge, a master at infiltration, espionage, manipulation, cybersecurity, and a million more things; he had to prove himself and more. 
You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, but you almost did wish that you had known more. 
Two fiddled with the radio, settling on a station that played some kind of country-western type music. 
“What’s your specialty Two? How’d you end up a part of this shitshow?” 
The driver laughed, then hummed along with the music for a moment. “This has been my gig for few years, but I’ve never been a part of this unit before. Carroll always saw it best for my services to be used in other places.” 
“You have a specialty?” Jeongin asked while still typing furiously. 
Two scratched the back of his head. “I do a little bit of everything. But...let’s just say that I’m good at making friends. That’s why Carroll likes me.” 
“--You know her personally?” Your partner quipped, but the edge to his voice didn’t sound like judgement, but rather caution. 
“We’ve had a few meetings.” 
“Hm.” 
You kicked off your heals to massage your aching toes. If only they had attacked at a time when you had the proper footwear. 
“You said we could also call you J?” You sprawled over the back seat in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable. Still, the plastic seatbelt buckles poked into your back. 
“Yes. You can call me J.” 
And that was that. No “What’s J stand for”, or “where are you from”, “where’s your home base,” “how did you rank at the academy?” You added questions to the list of things that weren’t allowed as well. 
Jeongin tore off his glasses with an exasperated sigh to rub at his tired eyes. Chan made a happy little noise, presumably because he had found a cozier spot on Jeongin’s shoulder. He had now gotten the chance to sleep off his drunken stupor that may or may not had contributed to his sudden confession, and the reason behind the two pitstops you had taken for him to retch on the side of the road. 
If he was a prince, he might’ve also been one mess of a prince. In all of his grace and confidence, the pleasures that he partook in would often get the best of him at times too. 
You gave up on trying to get some sleep, but rather sat up to watch that paradoxically handsome and misshapen prince. Just like this: sleeping, vulnerable, with some kind of lopsided smirk on his face, he was much less than the regal figure that you had painted him to be in your mind. For maintaining appearances the whole day long, you hadn’t ever really gotten the chance to see him like this before. His façade faded, and you surmised that maybe he really was different from the way that he let on. 
“I’m so fucking tired.” Jeongin yawned. 
“Get some sleep then. I’ll stay up to watch things.” 
“That’s just it. I can’t sleep even if I tried.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Can you pass me some hand sanitizer or something? There’s...blood on my hands.” 
Your partner’s voice cracked slightly. It was then when you realized that this had been the first time that he had fired at real people. 
“I’ve got a water bottle? Is that enough?” 
“Yeah. It’s fine.” 
He splashed the liquids around while wiping his hands away, then flicked the remnants of water away. 
“Something about this doesn’t sit right with me.” 
“How do you mean?” 
Chan’s coat draped over your shoulders, and you pulled it in closer around your arms. The night had been cool, and the AC blasting in the car didn’t make it much better. 
Jeongin licked his lips. “Nothing was supposed to happen tonight. We made sure of it. No one was suspicious, we ran background checks, we checked the whole area...” 
“Hey,” You attempted to turn your tone softer, “We couldn’t have seen it coming. They just rolled up out of nowhere, there was no way that we could’ve stopped it--” 
“--Innocent people died tonight. If they were out for the prince, or maybe they weren’t, why so much collateral damage?” 
“Obviously they don’t care.” 
“Bastards.” Jeongin took the last bits of water to slug. “We’re gonna fucking find out why they did all of this.” 
Two shifted in his seat, “Any word? Hate to mention it, but I’m getting kinda tired. It’s past three already.”  
“Fox?” 
He clicked around, then shook his head. “Still nothing.” 
Chan snorted a bit in his sleep: an action which woke him up. 
“Wha-what? Where are we? Are the there yet? What time is it? Fuck...my head feels like it’s splitting...” 
“We’re finding somewhere, your Highness. We’ll be there soon.” Your partner motioned for you to hand him another water to give to the disorientated prince. 
Chan nodded while he rubbed his temples. “Shit. Please tell me that I just made this all up. That it’s some kind of fucked up nightmare...” 
You threw Chan’s coat back to him. “Unfortunately, no. We’re trying to figure out everything that we can.” 
“Who the hell were those guys?” Water dripped down his neck in a way that you pretended not to notice. “They were wearing crests. I couldn’t tell, but weren’t they red?” 
“Very observant, your Highness. F?” 
The younger man bit his lip, “I’ve already tried finding where the crest is from, but I can’t find anything that resembles it within our database. I was able to see one up close. It looked like a heart or something like that, and a diamond. I’m guessing that it could’ve been maybe a spade? Like the kind that you see on playing cards? Still, since we’ve never seen it before, we can only assume that they must be a new group.” 
Chan nodded, but anyone could tell that the information had flown right over his head. He licked at his wet lips, then sighed. 
“Bee, You okay? Fox? I suppose that I should ask you both.” 
“I’m...fine.” His sudden concern came as a surprise, and your partner looked just as shocked. 
“I-I’m fine too. No holes in me or anything.” Jeongin suppressed a laugh. “But you’re not, your Highness. How much did you have to drink?” 
“Oh...enough. I guess that I lost track at some point. Those kind of things are boring anyway.” 
“Fox? You’ve got that locale?” Two clicked the turn signal. 
“Oh! Yeah, I’ve got one. Sorry, It’s about an hour from here.” 
“Locale?” Chan cocked his head. 
“A safe house. Or something like that. We need to lie low while we wait for instructions.” 
“No one has said anything...? Not even...my father?” 
Jeongin shook his head gravely. “No.” 
The young prince fell silent, and you watched as worry fell over his clouded eyes that were lined with bags. Normally his expression was anything but strained, but in this moment, you saw doubt sweep over him like the darkness on the road ahead. You leaned the farthest you could from your seat to grab at his hand behind you. 
“You’re safe with us. Nothing is going to happen to you.” 
His hand was warm, maybe a little clammy, but it was soft, like that of a prince, naturally. Still, it was strong and veined. Chan’s thumb rubbed soft little circles into your own skin, muttering, “Thank you.” For once, his eyes which would normally devour you like some kind of rare dish held you earnestly. I trust you, they said. 
“Two. Let’s switch.” Jeongin slammed his laptop closed. “I’ve got it from here.” 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
The safe house was quiet. As most of them where. It was even a bit stereotypical: a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods on nearly all sides. It had a little overgrown garden, and a shed that looked like it held either all kinds of gardening equipment, or the real thing that sheds were meant for in your business: ammo. It had a white painted porch with cracking paint, as well as porch swing with rusting chains. In the early morning the windows were are black, but still faintly reflected the massive array of sparking stars above your heads. The only thing less antique about the home was the touch keypad on the front door. It beeped with a little tune, then flashed the insignia of the agency: a ticking clock. 
“Two, can you find a generator or something? Get the electricity up and going?” 
“Can do,” He said, then disappeared. 
Two was mostly a quiet man, a feature that gave you both reasons to trust him and to be suspicious. Besides him being a bit smaller in stature with thin legs and characteristically round cheeks, there was something different about him that you couldn’t place; something unexpected. You wished once again that questions weren’t on the list of things that weren’t allowed. 
“There should be clothes around here somewhere.” Jeongin padded his way through the dark rooms. “You shower first your Highness.” 
Chan tripped over his feet as he spread out his arms to find his way. You giggled lightly at the action. A man really was stripped down of any and all sense of composure when his life had been threatened and he had to have his bodyguards pat his back while he had gotten sick after one too many royal drinks. 
The lights flashed on, flickering at first with the sound of the lightbulbs waking up after a long sleep. The interior design of the place was exactly as you had expected: it was a family home with a fireplace and several chairs and couches covered in dust. Bookshelves were full with the strangest assortment of reading material and board games there held a thin layer of grey dust too. The kitchen was small and cozy: it had all the necessities. A stained glass chandelier hung over the wooden table for eight, and was decorated with glass hummingbirds and pink flowers. In odd corners of the house, children’s toys had been sitting untouched. A family must’ve been living there, and you wondered what must’ve become of them. 
Two returned with spiderwebs caught on his dress coat. “Water should be hot in about thirty minutes or so I think.” 
Your partner crossed the room, raking a hand through his snowy white hair. “I’m gonna try and make the calls again. See if I get anything. If not, we’ll have to...begin Operation Cheshire.” 
It was the phrase that you had hoped neither you nor your partner would have to say. 
Chan slumped down in one of the upholstered chairs, throwing dust into the air as he did. Compared to the rest of the room, him and his designer clothes seemed comically out of place. “Wha-what’s that?” 
Two pinched between his eyes, and your chest shook with an unsure inhale. 
“It means that we assume the worst. HQ got taken over and we’re all at risk. Information about us could be accessible to anyone. Essentially, we go into sleeper mode until we can reconvene with other agents...if there are any more. We dissapear. Next, we work on getting you back home, no matter what it takes.” 
“HQ?” What are you talking about?” Chan toyed with his diamond set cufflinks. “HQ? Like whoever manages the bodyguards??” 
“Your Highness...” You and your partner exchanged knowing glances. “We’re more than bodyguards.” 
“What?!” 
“We’re operatives. Agents. We work for an intelligence agency that specializes in a bunch of different things...protecting royalty if needed.” 
“What the fuck?! Why didn’t anyone tell me? Chan slapped his leg. “Fuck! No one tells me anything!!! I get that I’m a fucking prince but I’m not fucking useless!” 
The memory of the confidential file reemerged in your memory: the promise that you had made to His Majesty The King after he had requested a “special hire” to watch over his son. The file itself had contained a several thousand words or so that you hadn’t bothered to read, but rather skimmed till you got to the signature part. Carroll had simply nodded before you put your pen to the paper. 
“It was for your saf--” 
“--My father did this, didn’t he? Didn’t he? Some kind of sick way to keep tabs on me? See what I’m doing?? God! The man never trusts me. If the thinks that I’m that much of a disappointment...this is just--” 
“Your Highness, it’s been a long day, you’ve been through a lot, just take a shower and get some rest. Alright? We’ll talk more about this in the morning.” Two stepped forward with his hands folded in front of him. His interjection was unlike his previously quiet presence. 
The prince sighed, tapping his tragically expensive shoe on the hardwood. 
“Fine. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” 
Chan’s eyes grew dark with an authoritative air that you had seen before. His façade had slipped over him like a cloak. He rose, buttoning his jacket, then tweaking his sliver brooches decorating his neck. 
“Fox. Bee. Two. Thank you. Good evening.” 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
Chan knew that it was you at the door when you would knock two times, then pause, and knock twice more. In your hands, you held a cup of warm milk. For a prince, even he couldn’t reject the beverage to help him fall asleep at night. You had seen him order it at hotels on more than one occasion. Jeongin had found a nearby store to get food for the morning. The two of you had suddenly found yourselves as now both his bodyguards and his servants. While you waited, you hoped to God that Carroll would compensate you for the extra work. 
The door creaked open, revealing your prince modestly dressed in plaid flannel, hair dripping slightly in wet strands. You had never seen him as simple as this before: no princely persona or cold exterior to upkeep. He looked...normal. 
“What is it Bee?” 
“I thought you might like some...well, this.” You provided him with the cup. “I know that it’s nearly morning, but you should still try to sleep in. We’ll take care of things. 
He took the ceramic mug from your hands, fingers barely brushing against yours for mere moments. 
“Thank you.” He hushed with a thankful smile. “Would you like to come in? We could...just kind of...sit for a minute.” 
Behind him, sun peaked at the horizon, a splitting of red piercing the navy deep of the night. The colors muddled, blurred, a bit like the color of blood fading into the deep fabric of one’s formal wear. It was desolate, but still beautiful. 
“To be honest,” His eyes fell, “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 
You had saved the biggest room for him. It smelled of mothballs and other old things like sheets that had rested in a dark room for much too long. Still, there was a kind of familiarity to it all and the way that the matted rugs and brass vintage lamps lit the room with a soft yellow light. The full sized bed creaked once you had sat down. In his golden halo, Chan’s brown strands appeared to be softer, and not as prim and staged. 
“I’m sorry for snapping earlier. I realized that there are things that are out of my control. You know more than I do, and I accept that. I trust you...a-and Fox.” 
You rubbed your hands into the jeans you had found in the cupboard. They had dirt and grass stains from work in the garden you presumed. 
“It’s okay. I understand that you would be scared. It’s okay to be. I...get scared sometimes too. I know that it might look like it, but I fear...for my life too. So does Jeong--Fox.” 
Chan’s voice cracked. “Is someone out to kill me?” 
You sighed, sensing his hesitation. “I don’t know. But we will know soon.” 
The prince stared down at the white bubbles in his milk, then swirled around the liquid to watch the way that that it moved. 
“I don’t think I’d like to die. Would be pretty unfortunate, don’t you think? I feel like I’ve got so many other things to do. A kingdom to manage, people to govern, much more bottles of Scotch to drink, parties to attend...” 
His eyes met yours, and you could see the very fragility of the life that he spoke of right in them. He was right in that dumb speech of his. He really was just a person. 
“...I like to think that I’ll get married someday to someone that I love. I actually would really like to do that.” He chuckled. “Lame, right? Someone like me who always bounces around. Wouldn’t take me for one?” 
“Mm. No. I think that from what I’ve observed of you, and I’m trained to observe, I think that bouncing around...means you’re looking for the right thing. And, I guess that it’s fun too.” 
Chan chuckled, “You’re good at observing.” 
You paused, remembering Lee Minho from earlier. 
“Were you looking when you were talking to that man at the banquet? He was very handsome.” 
The prince placed the cup down. “He was. I don’t know. He just seemed kind of interesting. The kind of mystery that only a stranger has. I would’ve liked to have talked to him more now that I think about it. Maybe it would’ve been worth my time.” Chan twisted his back to crack it. “I don’t know if you saw but he had some really nice fucking thighs.” 
“Ahhh. Nice thighs. Didn’t know that you cared for that.” 
The two of you laughed together a bit like old friends. It felt nice. 
“...Bee. I should also probably apologize for how I acted back before we got in the car. I was...drunk, scared. I said some things--” 
“--That you were in love with me?” 
“Yeah...that. I realized that...I’ve been...unfair to you. You don’t deserve the ridicule. You’ve only ever been helpful to me and--” 
“--Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” You shrugged. You had met hundreds of guys like him before, at least you thought. 
Chan sighed as if he was gathering himself. “Bee. I did mean what I said.” 
“What? Ch-your Highness, you don’t mean that.” 
He laughed, “It’s alright. You can call me Chan. And...yes. I did. You’ve got a kind of mystery to you too. Frankly, I can’t stop thinking about it.” 
“This...this is inappropriate.” You shifted, the rising off the bed. Your cheeks warmed, but you couldn’t know why. Maybe he was just too damn charming. But, he was like that with everyone. 
He rose too, hastily following you on your way to the door. “Bee, wait.” 
“Chan, you can’t do this. It makes things...complicated.” 
He advanced, slowly, closing the space between you. “It’s only complicated if you feel the same.” 
“I-I don’t.” 
The prince’s hand carefully rose to cup your face, a gesture so gentle that you shied from the feeling. Even this close still he smelled of white roses. 
“Have you ever heard of conflict of interest?” Your breath hitched. 
Chan grinned, “There you go making this complicated again.” 
A wandering hand of yours acting on its own reached to tug hold of his shirt. 
The prince leaned in closer, nearly close enough to breech the gap between his plush lips and yours. 
“What if I don’t mind making things...” He whispered the word, grazing his mouth over yours, “...complicated?” 
“Ch--” 
He pressed his weight fully into you, a smashing of lips met with incessant heat and your back shoved into the door. His tongue easily twisted around yours, and his soft gasps filled up your mouth. It had taken you a couple seconds to realize what had happened, and to decide what to do with yourself. His mouth was blazing, it was as if he was weaving a spell, or perhaps you had made it up for yourself. He kissed you with vitality; like he had never tasted anything like you before and was starving for you. You realized, perhaps you had wondered what it would’ve felt like. One hand squeezed tighter to his shirt, and you kissed back, meeting his heat. 
Jeongin’s voice called down the hall, “Bee? Bee, are you there?” The sound of your bedroom door shut. 
You pushed Chan off you with flat hands on his chest and an amazed smile on his face. 
“This...this doesn’t mean anything.” You gasped, reaching for the knob after a moments pause. 
Chan snickered, shoving his hands in his pockets. 
“Goodnight your Highness.” 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
For a man so young Jeongin liked his coffee black, and drank it like an old man too with his nose buried in a newspaper while it fogged up his glasses--or what was left of them. 
“I finally got correspondence from Carroll this morning. She said that HQ experienced some kind of blackout and all the systems went offline. It wasn’t safe for her to contact us on a regular line. They got everything back up and running and everything seems fine, or so they think.” 
Your partner had already made himself comfortable in a pair of sweatpants and a cotton tee with slippers. You never would’ve guessed that he was a trained assassin on the side. 
Two returned huffing in the door from his morning run. He was one of those people. 
“Any word?” He rubbed his face off with a dishtowel. 
“Disgusting.” You sneered at the crude action. 
“Well, we’ve got thousands of miles between us and the kingdom and what seems like a hell of a lot of guys on our tail, but, after I sent Carroll the info about the red crest, she wants us to do some digging. 
“With the prince in tow?” You lowered your voice lest the sleeping royal heard you. “I don’t think so.” 
“It sounds like she’s convinced that the person behind all of this could be someone who attended the charity ball. And, I don’t really disagree. They must be good at keeping secrets if they evaded us.” 
“Hm. You’re right. A high profile event like that, even though its for a good cause it’s always a competition with those snobs. I just don’t know who could order something so cruel...all those people in the same place...” 
“Since it’s a new group, they must still be underground. So, to see who lives underground, you’ve got to go there yourself to find out. Or, in our case, find someone who knows the rabbit hole.” 
Two grabbed a chair, ruffling his deep brown soaked hair. “What does that mean?” 
Jeongin flipped his laptop around. “This is the man that we need to go see. Codename White Rabbit. Or as he calls himself--” 
“--Bun.” You cut in. “Yeah, I know him.” 
Both of the men chimed, “You do?” 
“Yeah, he’s undercover ops for the agency. He’s sort of a jack of all trades. He owns some kind of front out in Egypt. It’s called The Tea Party. Bar up front, but in the back he provides all kinds of information--for both sides. His cut is that for any information he gives to the agency he gets cash compensation. If anyone would know about anything underground, it would be him. As I’m sure Carroll told you, he’s a stickler for meeting in person. He’s one of us. I think.” 
“You think?” 
“He also does...other deviant things. I heard that these days he’s had a couple dealings in some...substances. Black market stuff. Carroll also provides safety for his business in return for his information.” 
“That...sounds illegal. Immoral even.” Jeongin’s eyes widened upon hearing the news about his mother. 
“You’ve got to pay to play you know.” 
“So Egypt then?” Two wiped off the back of his neck with the dishtowel, stretching out one of his toned arms. “I’ve always wanted to go there.” 
“Oh--one more thing.” Jeongin took a rather long sip from his cup. “The King’s counsel reached out to me too this morning. They asked me if the Prince was safe and where we were. I have them loose details of both. They seemed somewhat relieved.” 
Chan sauntered down the steps with a massive yawn, stretching up his arms and shirt to reveal an inkling of his abs. You also pretended not to notice it. 
“Gooood morning everyone. Fox. Two.” He dished out a wink. “Bee.” 
“Morning your Highness.” Jeongin nodded, and crossed his legs. “Feeling well?” 
“Ahhh much better.” He poured himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, staring out the little window over the sink, then took an indulgent sip. “It’s peaceful here. I kind of like that.” 
“Your Highness, we’ve received word--” 
Chan rose his hand to shush your partner, then languidly took another sip. “I’m still enjoying my drink F.” 
A light buzzing resonated somewhere in the house, a bit like the sound of a dryer, and the home started vibrating. Your water glass on the table rippled. 
“Two, did you notice if there was anything strange about the house?” 
The buzzing grew nearer. 
Two looked puzzled, “No, why?” 
The vibrating grew more violent, and your glass shuddered off the wooden table, shattering on the ground upon impact. 
Chan squinted out the window, “Is that a--” 
“CHAN GET DOWN!” You shrieked. 
Within milliseconds the whistling of a bomb screeched through the air, then crashed into the rickety ceiling, splintering wood everywhere and demolishing the furniture. 
You had seconds to act while the matte black bomb hissed with a steam releasing from some seam and ticked. You sprinted to grab Chan’s arm as hard as you possibly good, all in a blur, pummeling your bodies against one of the shattered windows, and hurling yourself out to the morning dew. You had no time to see if Jeongin or Two had made their exit, but looked out, towing the prince so hard you must’ve done some damage to his shoulder. You stumbled to your feet, tripping, and grunting until the bomb diffused, and exploded the cottage altogether. You covered Chan’s head and most of his body with your own as a shield and the shards of wood, metal, and brick came flying. 
“Ar-are you okay?” You patted the prince down in his shock, who stared blankly with empty eyes. 
The prince’s flannel had been torn to shreds with glass, and blood oozed onto the fabric on his arms. 
“Yeah...yeah...I’m...fine.” 
“BEE! Y/N!” Jeongin screamed over the flames to find you. 
“OVER HERE!” You bellowed back, and your partner came running with Two behind him with terrible cuts on his face. 
“They knew. They FUCKING knew.” He panted after reaching you. 
“We have to get out of here.” Two gasped, and blood ran down his face, nearly into his eye. “If they know where we are now, they’ll come to check to see if the damage is done. We have to move.”  
The sky filled with an angry smoke, and the once peaceful forest filled with the colors of orange and red. 
“The car?” 
“Broken windows from the blast but I should be able to get it going. There’s spare parts in the shed. And ammo. A fuck ton of it.” 
“We’ll need it.” 
You pulled the prince to his feet as he blinked wildly at you and your team. 
“Fuck.” Was all the could manage. 
In your complete surprise, Chan’s bloodied and cracked hands pulled your face into his, kissing you with lips that tasted of the salt of blood. 
“I fucking love you Bee. I’ve decided.” 
Jeongin’s jaw dropped in the corner of your eye, so you promptly slapped the prince upside the face. 
“You’re in shock. We need to get out of here.” 
A wrinkled smile danced on the royal’s face, and you might’ve thought that it was a bit charming. 
“Admit it. You love me too Bee.” 
~🌹~ 
Bunch of (Ro)ses! 
@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop
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sag-dab-sar · 3 years
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The Word “Cult” and its Usage
Its a word with two meanings that could use some explaining.
The word holds a very negative connotation to a lot of people. I can completely understand this. I do not use the term cult statues or cult images for my animated representations of the Gods on my altar; I use the term Idol. Despite the fact that, in academia, “cult statue” is the non-derogatory term and “idol” is derogatory. I don’t like hearing the word cult in regards to my own practice but I understand and use its academic meaning in other situations. Also just kinda feels nice to “”reclaim”” the word idol tbh.
💬
When I write online about ancient religion I often use the terms Cult / Cultus because they mean something specific. They are more narrow than the general term “religion.”
🔹Cult includes the priestly system, the temple and its complex, the types of rituals, the importance and role of the God in that place, and the beliefs about that God in that place.
🔹For example, the beliefs and rituals to Athena in Athens vs the beliefs and rituals to Athena in Sparta may have differences. Indicating that Athena has two different cults despite us putting them both under the label “Ancient Greek Religion.” Thats how some epithets arose which many can be refered to as “cult titles.” (Not all, some epithets arise from poetry and other ways.)
🔹In Mesopotamia “Cult Center” implies that the God is the most important God to that city. Kutha with Nergal, Nippur with Enlil, Isin with Ninisina (Gula), and Eridu with Enki. They still worship the other Gods of course, polytheism interlaces the Gods in numerous ways that cannot be split, but there was still a sense of a particular God(s) being especially important to that specific city or settlement.
💬
“Religion” is too broad in many cases to be useful when writing about ancient polytheism and cult is usually a neutral term in academia. I have even come across some academic journal articles where the author specifies which definition they mean.
Lets look at this example (that I just wrote myself):
“Despite the city of Nippur never being the seat of a ruling dynasty the city held a vital role in Mesopotamian Religion. It was the cult center of Enlil, King of the Gods, and thus the place where kingship was bestowed”
I wouldn’t say “religious center of Enlil.” Religion implies some sort of cohesion. For example, Sunni Islam is the same in Y place as it is in X place, while interpretations of things vary greatly, for the most part the foundation is the same: same Quran, same prophets, same prayers, same prayer motions, same calendar, same holy days, same language used, same 5 pillars, and all Muslims face Mecca no matter where one is.
Ancient polytheism is not that cohesive, the Cult of Enlil at X city and the Cult of Enlil at Y city may be very different even though they still have the same common threads and basis of Ancient Mesopotamian Religion connecting them, such as the need for purity, general cosmology, role of magic, need for elaborate rituals, the sheer importance of the cult statue, prevalence of spirits, status of humans in relation to the Gods, etc.
Despite those common threads the prayers, the role Enlil plays as a city God, the functioning and administration of his temple, the other Gods that are worshipped in the temple, and the priestly hierarchy may all be different between X city and Y city. Thats why it should not be called a “Religion of Enlil” as it carries a connotation of cohesion between different localities and their worship of Enlil.
💬
Thus the terms “cult / cultus” and “religion” can carry significanlly different meanings when speaking of polytheism.
Hope this helps explain the usage you might come across.
May 19th, 2019
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vickyvicarious · 3 years
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Parker: "Teach me to like stuff."
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Okay, so. I have some thoughts about The French Connection Job's Parker+Eliot subplot. And I think I wanna approach it separately, scene by scene from each of their perspectives, because we have a couple different things going on here. It's still a little more of a Parker meta than an Eliot meta, but I have enough to talk about on both sides, and they're connected enough not to be in separate metas, that I am going to do it this way.
Also going to put this under a cut because it gets long.
Parker
This whole subplot comes on the heels of the last episode, in which there was a lot of banter throughout about Hardison and Parker's dates, and him wanting to branch out into other things than just bungee jumping or whatever. We have seen hints of this throughout S5 so far, even though we're only a few episodes in at this point. They went on a world tour that was pretty much just jumping off of stuff, Hardison said something about them figuring things out. We saw a cute domestic scene of the aftermath of them watching a movie together, except Parker 'fell asleep again' and missed most of it, and Hardison eventually went off to work on his laptop. Parker tried to comfort him last episode about dust mites and ended up freaking him out instead. She talked about how she liked fire and Hardison complained she was missing the point of his offer for a candlelit picnic. They did end on a very romantic note with her still making the effort to make it happen but getting rained out, and him recognizing her effort and listening to him, and projecting the stars around the dark room then having the picnic inside. They are clearly very happy together and both making the effort to meet in the middle, but there are still some disconnects. Which makes sense this early on anyway, but it's not out of place for Parker to start getting worried about her limited interests here given the context of them contrasting Hardison's more widespread interests.
Starting right off the bat - there's a picture limit so I can't show these early moments, but throughout the first part of the episode we see Parker looking visibly upset/pensive. Hardison notices and asks her what's wrong, but is immediately distracted by his package arriving, and then the team gets into the briefing and he doesn't get to talk to her again. (Sidenote that this is pretty OOC for Hardison, and I have to assume he would at the very least come back to her later, but they were clearly trying to get Parker talking with someone else this episode and apparently couldn't come up with a better way to do it. His writing outside of the kitchen stuff was kinda off this whole episode anyway, what with the whole tip thing.) She was about to open up to him, however, which is important. There's also a scene shortly afterwards where she confides in Nate, again after he notices her being upset and asks what's bothering her. She claims everyone but her has 'a thing', and names a few of them. He asks her what she thinks when she sees Michelangelo's David, and when her answer is an immediate assessment of how it's guarded and what she'd have to do to steal it, he kind of hesitates and then goes right back to running the con. He basically gives up on helping her with this once it becomes clear that a quick sentence or two isn't gonna cut it.
So after those brief, unhelpful conversations, that's when she makes a move. She was responding to others before, but this time she comes up to Eliot, clearly nervous. And she asks him to help her feel something.
(I find it very interesting that she doesn't ask Sophie. Sophie is the person who she would usually go to for something like this, after all. But, aside from this being an Eliot-centric episode and just like them sidelining Hardison's possible assistance earlier the writers want Parker to talk with Eliot not Sophie, I think there are maybe a couple reasons why she might go to him here. First, just distance. Eliot is right downstairs, meanwhile at the moment Sophie is however far across town at her theater. Certainly not saying she wouldn't go to Sophie eventually, but maybe that's why not first. Second, she and Eliot have an understanding, one that's been explicitly acknowledged since the start of S4. They are similar in a way entirely unlike the rest of the crew. So while Sophie may understand emotions best, Eliot is the one most likely to know what Parker is talking about when she says she just isn't feeling anything. Which by the way I'm gonna get more into later on. Thirdly they're in love but that's not actually relevant here since all of the team love one another.)
Eliot
On Eliot's side, she approaches him when he's busy in the kitchen. This whole job is stirring up a lot of old feelings in him right from the start. Toby was someone who 'kept him from falling all the way down', and Eliot is deeply concerned for him. At the same time, the way they are running this con is allowing Eliot to take on the role of teacher. Even though his students aren't anything like the eager students Toby has just had taken away from him, Eliot wants so badly to take advantage of this opportunity to teach them - maybe even all the more because they're resistant. He's being given a very rare opportunity to indulge his belief that food is life and to share it on a larger scale. To use the knife to create, not just destroy. Leverage often walks a line between doing both (taking down the bad guys and helping people) but Eliot doesn't often just straight up get to just do the 'creating' part. (I mean, he loves the destruction too, he genuinely loves beating people up and taking down bad guys, but this is a rarer pleasure.) So he's pretty preoccupied with that at first, and initially dismisses Parker just like the other two guys did.
But when she just looks quietly disappointed at his response, he goes still and watches her. We cut away from them here so we don't see his actual response, but it's immediately clear that he's realizing this is actually something deeply important to Parker, and well worth his time.
On to the next part of this scene below.
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[Eliot sets a dish down in front of Parker]
Parker: "...It's just food."
Eliot: "It's not just food! Alright, some people could look at it and just see food, but not me. I see art. When I'm in the kitchen I'm, I'm creating something outta nothing, you know what I mean? And sometimes I crush it, sometimes it's crap, but either way - it makes me feel something."
Parker: "Feel what?"
Eliot: "Just... feel."
Parker: [murmuring] "Feel... okay." [looks down at the food and hesitates]
Eliot: "You know, I didn't feel anything for a long time. Then Toby taught me how to cook, and after he did, I started to feel stuff again. That's why I share it through my food - this is my art. This is my art, Parker." [Parker nods, looking worried] "It's like lettin' a stranger in your head, just for a second. And you allow them to feel what you're feeling." [pause] "Look again." [he pushes the plate a little closer to her. Parker takes a deep breath and slowly sets her elbows down on the counter as she stares down at the plate. Eliot watches her closely.]
Parker
At this point I want to talk a little about what Parker means when she says "feel something" and talks about "having a thing." Because we've seen her have interests outside of straightforward thievery before. Sure, most of her hobbies revolves around stealing - casing local banks for fun, for example. But she clearly has a deep love for Christmas and for chocolate. So why doesn't she count those kinds of things as 'feeling something'?
I think it comes down to what Eliot's talking about here. It's a sense of art. Not even necessarily making it yourself, although that certainly applies. Parker likes sweet things like chocolate and donuts, but although she really really likes them they don't make her feel any truly deep emotion. It's more tactile than anything else, just a pleasant flavor. Her love of Christmas isn't the same either in her eyes because it's not uniquely hers. It's something she loves to celebrate but she can't do so all year round, and plenty of other people like Christmas too. This one comes a lot closer, because it definitely seems to be tied up more in community and family for her than something like enjoying chocolate and piñatas, but it still doesn't belong to her in the same way that cooking does to Eliot or theater does to Sophie. And while theoretically her love of base jumping and so on could maybe count, it is still so tied up in her thieving that it doesn't feel separate. She's really good at drawing but only thinks of it as a useful skill, not a creative outlet - this is similar to that.
She has been branching out into a lot of new experiences and emotions lately, and while she's struck out deep into uncharted waters with her relationship with Hardison, once there she's only seeing more and more things that she just... doesn't get. She loves spending time with him, and enjoys what they do together, but she doesn't understand all of those things. Not on a deeper level. She wants to feel that sense of connection to something, wants to feel deeply emotionally moved by something.
And honestly? I think she's way up in her head about it. I'm not trying to dismiss her struggle here at all, but I do think she is stressing herself out about having something uniquely her own. About having a huge interest that speaks so strongly to her personally. And those are amazing to have, but it's really not necessary. She doesn't need a strong secondary passion so much as she needs to let go of trying so hard to force herself into something.
And what's happening in this scene in particular is that Parker is trying so so hard to force herself to feel something. It's evident in her face throughout the whole scene, in her body language. And she is so terrified that it's not going to work that honestly, I'm not surprised at all that it doesn't.
Eliot
On Eliot's side of this scene, he feels like he recognizes where Parker is. This entire job has him remembering how it was to feel nothing. Her phrasing got to him deeply. He wants to reach out and teach her to see something more, just like Toby taught him.
He knew a bit about how to cook before Toby. But it was only seeing Toby's passion that struck something in him, that awoke a part of himself he might've never known before. For Eliot specifically, cooking being an art isn't just something he likes. It's something that brings him hope.
Eliot doesn't believe in redemption. But he believes in actions. And what Toby did, by teaching him to cook, was to teach him that his actions can be good. That he can create, not just destroy. That all is not lost - not 'for' him necessarily, so much as 'in' him. There is a deep empty place inside himself that he can enter so so easily. The difficulty is crawling back out again. Cooking was his rope out of there. He still finds it difficult to express his emotions very often, particularly verbally, but when he makes someone a meal he puts a part of himself into it. And yet doing so doesn't take anything from him, it just adds more.
This is all very vague and figurative and may make no sense, but the takeaway I want to have is that Eliot is opening up to Parker on a very deep level here. He feels like he recognizes what she's talking about, and it was a very bad place for him. (Again, I don't think she is quite that badly off at this point in canon, but I digress.) And while making food allows him to feel that he is demonstrating his love for someone, that he is sharing a part of himself with them, he recognizes that she isn't receiving that. What she's getting, is just a plate of food. Tasty food maybe, but nothing more than that. And so Eliot verbalizes everything to her in a way he rarely does.
And then he keeps trying. This scene obviously doesn't end up making her feel something, and we don't get to see the immediate aftermath of that, but we can glean a little about how they feel based on their reactions. And Eliot is deeply determined to help Parker feel something from his food. He insists that she play the food critic; even speaks directly to her and reminds her to consider what they talked about.
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In the restaurant, we start out with Parker dutifully playing her role but feeling nothing much beyond just the role. Eliot checks in with Parker, she acknowledges that the food is good but doesn't make her feel anything, and he makes improvements based on her feedback. Then something abruptly changes.
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Parker: "I can taste garlic, and mushrooms... and something else that makes me feel different."
Hardison: "Wait, was that for me, cause I-I don't get it."
Parker: "No, it's the food. I get it." [smiles] "I feel something."
+
Parker: "Mmm! These black noodles are amazing!
Eliot: "Parker, it's tagliolini nero con gamberi."
Parker: "Mmm." [eats a huge forkful] "Mmm. Mmmm. These are really good."
Parker
What just happened here? Last we saw from Parker, she'd failed to feel something from the meal Eliot made especially for her in the brewpub, and she was clearly disheartened. She felt it as a failure, very much in the sense of a disappointment. She didn't want to try again, didn't think it would work, and tried to protest when Eliot said she would be the food critic. Even once she got to the restaurant, nothing was happening for her.
The difference wasn't in the flavor of the food. The moment Parker started to feel something was right after she said she felt nothing and Eliot, instead of being disappointed or giving up, took it as a challenge. He changed his recipe, he improved it specifically to better reach out to her. He kept trying.
And yeah, maybe the bone broth helped it taste better. But that wasn't the point, not really. The point is that Parker had gotten herself stuck in a hole, trapped herself in this cycle of not understanding how things make you feel and then believing that she just couldn't. She wanted something of her own and she didn't have it and she didn't immediately get anyone else's thing either, and that was it. She just wasn't capable. She was other. This is an old old fear of Parkers, dating back to Archie or even before. Something in her just isn't capable of being like other people. She wasn't worthy of being in Archie's real family, and she's not able to feel passion for anything outside of stealing. (Setting aside the fact that she loves her team, that all she needed was the right family. That you don't have to be a creator to feel passion, and you don't need to be passionate about any particular thing in order to feel deeply and find beauty in the world.) Parker has empathized deeply with people, has felt so intensely before and is constantly trying to learn more and new ways to be. But because she is noticing her teams' passions now, she has this ideal that she wants to reach, and none of that is good enough for her. She doesn't even know exactly what her ideal involves, but she can't get to it.
But when Eliot doesn't give up, that gets to her. If he views his food as sharing himself with others, Parker finally gets what he's been trying to give all along. It's all about him trying again and again, changing his approach to match her better. That's what she feels, that's what she enjoys.
And once she starts, the floodgates open. She loves the black noodles. She is so happy, she is relieved. There was this huge resistance that she couldn't get past before, but Eliot persisting helped her to break past that and now that she is out of her head about it she can enjoy the food in a way she never has before. Because she feels his love for her in it.
Eliot
Eliot is trying so hard to connect to Parker. It's not really different from what I said in the last Eliot section, and basically the same as what I just said in that Parker section, but I want to emphasize a little more just how much this is about love on his end.
Eliot loves Parker. He loves her, and he wants so much to help her. It doesn't honestly matter that he does this with food, except for the fact that food is what matters so deeply to Eliot himself. He can't reach out to her in the same way through any other medium. And we don't get to see his reaction to Parker's moment of realization. But I think it would be such a deep sense of joy. This is as fulfilling for Eliot as it is for Parker. It's exactly what Eliot has been hoping for this whole episode, to teach someone else to see food in the same way he does. It doesn't matter if it only lasts for a moment or a single meal. That's enough. He has been the support Parker needed through this time of self-doubt. And it is all the more meaningful to him because this isn't just a random student, this is Parker.
He told her he loves her through his food, again and again, and she eventually felt it. She understood. That must mean so much to him.
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I wanna end with one more brief note on Parker. Does she get her own "thing" this episode? No. No she does not, and this scene shows us that. Parker is not suddenly interested in food or cooking. The importance of that meal was purely derived from Eliot on the other end of it, focused on her and trying his best to reach out to her.
And I don't think this is something only Eliot could have done for her either, not really. The difference between him and the others this episode is mostly in persistence. However, it's also about her mentality. Hardison has built/done things for Parker before and she felt them just as deeply - but the context was different. She wasn't looking for a sense of beauty or art in the world at large then, and so even though she felt the love in the gift just as much, it didn't make her feel like she could find that kind of emotion in other things. She just wasn't looking for it. Also, it was made easier for Eliot to reach out because there's that connection Parker has with him, that understanding that they are on the same level somehow. She doesn't feel that with Hardison - and she loves him all the more for him being different from her, but he also I think can intimidate her with how good and open he is, with how much he can feel in so many different directions. It's part of why she got so worried about herself not being able to do so this episode.
Like, the team has scolded Nate for not having a life or interests of his own outside the job not too terribly long ago! And Parker has had her own joys before! But she isn't seeing that this episode, too caught up in this fear about not having her own 'thing', not feeling anything that way. So while anyone could have helped her through this, it was easiest for her to let Eliot do so + for him to understand what she needed from him. (Hardison in particular was rudely robbed the opportunity, but they all love and support her and could have reached her. Not to detract from Eliot doing so, but also I don't wanna sound like no other method of reaching out would've worked.)
But as soon as she feels something once with Eliot's help, that relaxes those fears. And then Parker is free to look in other places. She remembers Nate's comment about art, and maybe even tells him what she plans based on him knowing where she is at the end of the episode. And then she goes to visit this statue. In her own way which means breaking in, but without any goal of taking it. She just goes to look at the art. And she feels something again.
Parker doesn't gain some big passion at the end of this episode. She doesn't need to. She never did. She just learns how to let herself relax from that restrictive frame of mind. To simply be in the moment and enjoy things for the sake of what they are. To feel - not really in any way she was incapable of before, but intentionally now. It's a quiet victory, in the end. It doesn't mean she's going to get a new hobby or change her lifestyle at all really. But she's let go of a fear and is now intentionally seeking out new connections with the world beyond her once-limited parameters.
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misdre · 3 years
Text
misi's beyblade AUs masterpost
i like making AUs, i have many of them, here's a post of them from oldest to newest. (at least approximately) (the ones that got no art of them have photos from unsplash. i just enjoy setting the mood)
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Magical boy AU takao is an ordinary middle schooler who one day gets dragoon the magical spinning top from a cute little azure dragon, seiryuu, and transforms into a magical boy to protect the world from evil for some cosmic reasons that i haven't come up with yet. the rest of the characters have similar powers from their holy beasts and takao needs to gather up his team to fight the evil and. you get the drill is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 is there a fic of it? no note: i originally created this just because i like designing the outfits so i haven't planned the story much (this used to be my main focus but then 4kingdoms happened GJSDHGHSDG) i'd want to though, i'll get back to it eventually...at some point...... one of the charm points of this AU is that the holy beasts are these digimon-like animals that hang out with the characters and each have their own personalities.
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Fairy tale monster AU takao and gramps live in a cabin in the middle of a forest full of monsters and takao decides one day to venture out to look for a silver-haired boy he once saw, he meets up with the other BBA characters one by one in the grim woods. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: my oldest halloween fic. the characters are all these different cute spooky creatures and it's intended to sound like a fairy tale.
One day, he determined that the time was ripe: Takao decided to leave for an adventure. For his grandfather was old, it was not at all unusual for him to lay down to bed before sundown. Once the hut had fallen in drowsy silence, Takao packed his one and only bag with what little he felt he needed, took his cap and jacket, and stepped over the doorsill. He had left the safe warmth of the hut behind.
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Royal fantasyverse AU (the tale of four kingdoms) takes place in a fantasy universe with four kingdoms (east, west, south & north) created by the four holy beasts, in an era where each kingdom happens to be ruled by an exceptionally young king due to their respective circumstances. when the four meet for the first time, a snowball of events is set in motion that's going to affect all four kingdoms. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 is there a fic of it? yes 1 / 2 note: like a period drama with magic and gay and tons of worldbuilding. probably has way too many mysteries for the boys to solve because i have no self control when it comes to creating twists. this is The one AU that i have crammed every usable canon character into, i need enough people to inhabit four fucking countries
After creating the four lands, the holy beasts created people to inhabit them. Because the beasts were celestial beings and couldn't but guard people and the world they lived in from far above, they needed human vessels to lead the four nations. Thus they created four kings who would rule over other people using the four beast’s powers. The four kings were neither human nor gods, but something between – they were messengers, or icons, of the four holy beasts.
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Omegaverse AU a canon divergence AU (i guess??) where genders are replaced by A/B/O and everyone being either canine or feline. max is a late bloomer canine and finds out he's the only alpha of the BBA boys thanks to a certain feline omega. is there art of it? not really but i do have dog boy max and cat boy rei art (which are a bit too cute for this kinkfest. i mean they're obviously aged up for the real thing.) 1 / 2 is there a fic of it? it's been in the works for like, five years but i always shy away from finishing it note: it's omegaverse, it's exactly what you'd expect. the smut is so filthy i've been too embarrassed to even post it. hiromi is also an alpha by the way
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Coffee shop AU highschooler rei goes on a venture to hit on a local Hot University Teacher and coffee shop owner judy in a cafe owned by her, ends up receiving a bunch of flirty cups of latte from barista max working there. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: i mean, rei being into blonde MILFs is pretty much canon
Now that Rei looked at the boy more carefully, he realised his hair was just as fair and eyes just as blue as he knew Judy Mizuhara's to be. Maybe they were related? It wasn't that strange if Judy had hired a relative's kid to help out at the shop, right? He certainly looked American, but he had spoken Japanese. And then, all of a sudden, the boy turned to look back to him. Startled, Rei blinked his own golden brown eyes and shifted them back to his now empty cup. God, it was rude to stare at someone, wasn't it? He'd been too deep in thought to even notice doing it. Not that the boy had looked judgmental – he only seemed to wear a smile.
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Soulmate AU max keeps having dreams with peculiar scenarios about a boy named rei. one day he borrows a book on soulmates from hiromi and finds a chapter talking about meeting your soulmate in the realm of dreams. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: i don't even care for soulmate AUs, this was my own dare to myself to find a single soulmate trope that interested in me enough to write a thing of it.
Max was walking through a crowded airport, carrying a heavy backpack with him. He had never been to this airport in his life, but somehow he knew exactly where he was, and where he was supposed to go. And he was in a hurry, and Rei had at some point emerged from the crowd, as usual, keeping up with him without bumping into any of the people that should have blocked his way. “I'm sorry, this is probably my fault,” Rei said. “I haven't even travelled in ages anymore, but these dreams just keep coming back to haunt me.”
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Chess player AU rei is a young chinese chess champion participating in the world junior championships, ends up falling for the american chess prodigy max somehow in the process and is determined to get to play against him again. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: so this is one of the weirder ones i've done. it was inspired simply by me having a very vivid mental image of a scene of them playing dramatic chess together. this is probably my most underrated AU even by myself, i think the writing is pretty solid for such a short story of a topic i know practically nothing about
As a child, Rei had initially been taught to play xiàngqí, a Chinese game much more popular back in his home country; but chess with its refined, uniquely shaped pieces was love at first sight for the young Rei. He was a fast thinker and had amazing concentration skills once he set his mind on something, and he also had an outstanding memory, making it easy to memorise game patterns he once saw and then use them for his advantage. This all granted him natural talent in chess. But despite his skill, he had a bad habit of easily losing his temper and becoming indecisive once his focus wavered. Also, he was just a tad bit too sentimental. These traits often became his worst enemy in important matches, much worse than the actual opposing player. Keep your cool. Focus. Play well.
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Flower shop + fake dating AU yuriy doesn't really know anything about flowers but is working part-time in a flower shop for the easy cash. he keeps getting a pair of weird customers who ask about flower language for hypothetical situations. is there art of it? not by myself and i don’t have a link to the fanart made of it unfortunately is there a fic of it? yes note: did i write this for valentine's day? i feel like i maybe did. this is my only AU (and fic in general) so far that's about a non-BBA character as the main lmao
“So, I need some advice for a particular situation,” the customer then began, idly tapping the counter with his hand. “I mean, not a real situation, of course – hypothetically speaking, if someone was just pretending to be going out with another person, but they weren't really going but it just needed to seem that way to everyone else, what kinda flowers would get the message through?” Possibly an idiot, Yuriy concluded his analysis. “So you need suitable flowers for a date,” he stated, shooting his eyes at his notes about common flower-usage.
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Classical music AU (the heart that i love) max is a piano prodigy attending a classical music college that holds annual music competitions for the students. he's got some haters for being the son of a world-known pianist who's one of the teachers, but he also ends up having a budding romance with rei the mysterious chinese violinist. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 is there a fic of it? yes note: the origin of this was my "max and mao are besties" college AU. then it got mixed in with my thirst for classical instruments and max being bullied.
Max isn’t exactly a synesthet, but he has always been able to see music as pictures – as entire sceneries, as great adventures. This tendency of his emerges especially strong whenever he’s learning to play a new piece on the piano; as he moves along the melody, the scenery is also being built around him like a jigsaw puzzle, creating a complete picture piece by piece; and once he has mastered the song, he’s able to freely traverse and immerse himself in the world inside that puzzle. Some pieces have a more relaxed or soothing scenery than others, some are exciting and thrilling – even deliciously sinister in the way that a good horror film can be. Setting himself down in front of a piano is always an invitation to a world of his choice.
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Bakeneko AU after moving to a small rural town in japan, max hits his head and starts seeing things, such as a weird white cat following him around. after a while, he's convinced that he's being haunted. is there art of it? yes is there a fic of it? yes note: another halloween AU, a more surreal one where max is human and rei is. well. not
Max kept walking, his eyes still on the narrow road. He hadn't noticed while deep in thought, but it really was quiet that evening. The sun had nearly set by now, leaving the sky striped with the dusk of the approaching nightfall. There was no wind to rustle the treetops, no birds chirping, nothing. Only the sound of Max's own footsteps on the pavement, and the matching sound that followed. Followed. What if someone actually was following him? A sudden, violent chill struck down Max's spine, causing his hair to stand on end. He stopped. After a short delay, the steps also stopped.
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Genderbend AU a canon divergence AU where everyone's a different gender from canon (duh). starts off as an alternate version of the g-revolution world championships where the girls meet for the first time and befriend each other. rei is a professional model in addition to being a blader in the baihus, and max from the PPB is delighted to be able to battle her. she has no idea that rei has fallen for her at first sight, though. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 is there a fic of it? it's... in the works. note: i created this because i wanted to design attractive girls, what about it. absolutely partial to maxine's huge badonkadonks.
It wasn’t like Rei hadn’t already taken notice of her before, given that they were participating in the same world championship tournament, but the real turning point was the first time they stood on the opposing sides of a bey stadium. It was the day when the match-up roster signalled the match between the Chinese team and the American team, the Baihus versus the PPB All Starz; and despite both teams consisting of five players, it came down to, to Rei’s immense joy, the tag team of Rai and herself against the two most interesting US players, Rikki Anderson and Mizuhara Maxine.
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Vampire & merboy AU rei is a starved vampire just about to end his own life when he meets merboy max at a forest lake. is there art of it? of max yes is there a fic of it? yes note: yet another halloween monster AU, this time they are both monsters though. this one’s a pretty grim one i have to admit
Rei succumbed into deep thought, considering his few options, when something grabbed his unsuspecting hand. Something yanked him forward in one mad splash and forced not only the rest of his arm but also his shoulders and head underwater. Half a second later Rei, so badly startled that he’d come close to slipping into insanity, found himself staring at a pair of bright blue eyes only inches away from his own face. His other hand and lower body still firmly on land, Rei pulled himself back with strength that he didn’t even know his weak body still contained. As he did, he also pulled up whatever was clutching his hand, which turned out to be another hand – a white hand with elongated, dirty fingers, so sharp at the tips that they looked like daggers.
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Mafia AU max is the boss of the BBA mafia family, rei is a hitman and max's right hand man, the rest have various roles in the organisation. salima, mariam and some other girls (at least) are reporters doing investigative journalism on organised crime who get interested in covering the story of a group of russian elite detectives doing a thorough investigation of the BBA. is there art of it? of rei and max yes 1 / 2 / 3 is there a fic of it? it's in the works but it's just a gratuitous reimax smut note: this is a story i wish existed but this kind of police investigation action thing is so not my genre of expertise. that's why i'm just doing a PWP of my boys and the rest exists on conceptual level
“Did you know,” Salima said, perfectly peppy about it, “that there are secret underground auctions for stolen artwork that’s sold in the black market? Not just online auctions in the dark web but actual, physical events held somewhere in the city! Isn’t that so intriguing? Can you imagine how an event like that would look like, Max?” Max can – in fact, he doesn’t need to imagine. But he’d rather not think about it; the memories bring the familiar taste of bile in his mouth and make his gut curdle with a mixture of disgust and very particular guilt. The mere thought of it makes him set his coffee aside and bring a hand between his tightly shut eyes.
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the next thing i come up with? who knows............
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butterfly-winx · 3 years
Note
What kinda accents do the realms have? You can say in comparison to real one or just describe, it works either way
Butterfly canon is built on the assumption that there is some sort of universe wide spell easing communication. Another winxer coined the term Universal Translation Spell which I also like to use with my own imposed limitations.
The butterfly UTS is meant to enable communication and works best on spoken language. It gives the listener the ability to understand what is being said to them regardless of what language the words have been said in. The listener will still hear the foreign language, but receive an instant seamless translation in their brain as if they were able to speak the language in question. Over time people learn to tune out the words they hear as it can be headache inducing after prolonged exposure.
What the UTS doesn’t enable is the acquisition of the ability to process written language. People won’t be able to write in any language unless they do study it. Reading ability is also limited: people are only able to understand texts if they have an idea what it says. Once a translation is given, they will be able to parse the text better and are able to build “vocabulary” and understanding in a language using the UTS. This is ofc still not equal to having learned a language, because the UTS slides over cultural references, or linguistically important structures and just delivers an unembellished basic translation. To be able to express oneself in a nuanced way, one still has to study languages.
So there is no “common language” everyone learns to speak. If people choose to learn a foreign language, they do it for practical reasons like communicating with frequent foreign language speaking partners or because their native language is a dialect and they need to know the official language of their realm for legal applications. Alfea mandates all students study Magics Standard, to help students integrate and learn about the local culture. Knowing Magics Standard also enables them to use Alfea’s and Magics City’s extensive library without having to rely on audio recorded material only.
Given this, I can describe the phoneme case of each of the girls’ native languages, which would influence their accent in any language they chose to learn.
Stella:
Native language: Solkaros
Sounds: Solkaros has only 4 vowels, which only exist in a few combinations; consonants are either very hard or are complex sounds like tl, hu(wa) and ng; Solkaros combines flection/conjugation with nouns and verbs and the word length is long (old Solarian doesn’t); words have no innate inflection and are spoken flat/with equal weight on each syllable
Writing system: letter by letter
Speaks: Old/Ceremonial Solarian, Magics Common, very little Esperanto
Resulting accents: Stella tends to overpronounce or catch on consonants like t, ch and pronounces her dʒ-s like a hard g instead
Musa:
Native language: Gou dialect Melodean
Sounds: Melodean is an inflection heavy language, in which intonation of words matters and is used to differentiate meaning; Melodean has over 18 distinct vowel sounds, Gou uses about 15 of them and sounds a little flatter in comparison; consonants are almost completely unvoiced ones (f, r/l, n, t, ch, q) and lack voiced ones like (z, g); word length is very short
Writing system: pictogram based
Speaks: Simplified Melodean (official language) Magics Common
Resulting accents: Musa sounds very soft and has trouble with harsh ch, or rolled r sounds, she sometimes runs out of breath on longer words (6+ syllables)
Flora:
Native language: Bisayang 
Sounds: Bisayang is heavy on consonant grouping, using a lot of combinations as it has a low total sound repertoire of 20 distinct letters/sounds; if doesn’t use f, voiced h sounds, but has three different n/ng/nmg sounds; word length is variable with shorter verbs spoken upfront and long noun constructs
Writing system: syllabic
Speaks: Tulang Linpi (official language), Magics Common
Resulting accent: Flora sounds nasal in her n, m, b and g sounds and tends to replace consonants she doesn’t really know with familiar ones before getting confident (eg f->p, cs/tsh -> sh)
Tecna:
Native language: Jordan
Sounds: Very heavy on r and hard ch sounds; has a characteristic inflection where the last vowel of nouns is stressed creating a lilting speech; 
Writing system: combination of syllabic with pictograms
Speaks: Trible (language of Tribilisi), Magics Common, very little Esperanto
Resulting accent: Tecna unconsciously recreates the Jordan lilt in their speech, pronounces g, ch and tsh sounds hard and rolls their r, strangely no trouble with ny/ty sounds
Bloom:
Native language: Esperanto (south)
Sounds: t, k, soft ch, dʒ , and sh consonants are very common, has a rolled r; uses 7 vowel sounds, e the most frequent of them; south dialect is heavy on inflection and stresses s and sh sounds longer, making syllables follow a fast-long-fast rhythm when speaking; south dialect adds vowels to the ends of words and doesn’t leave final consonants unsounded
Writing: letter by letter
Speaks: Frederican, Magics Standard, Dominian, 
Resulting accent: Bloom speaks often with Esperanto rhythm and unintentionally stresses consonants at the end of words, has trouble with y/ly/ty sounds
Layla:
Native language: A’gu
Sounds: uses mostly sounded consonants like m, ʒ, g; y, f and r are also frequently used; very soft sound relying on swallowed consonant sounds and heavy complex vowels; oi, uo and a are frequent sounds; words are frequently equal in length so words of importnace are stressed; mostly spoken with a wide, slightly open mouth
Speaks: Igbou, Magics Standard, Pachit (Nabu’s language)
Resulting accent: Pronounces her a’s and e’s flat and doesn’t open her mouth too much for very clear sounds, makes every sound a complex sound through that
Roxy:
Native language: Esperanto (blend of west and south)
Sounds: Same as with Bloom; the west dialect doesn’t stress final consonants and has a different rhythm: most words are stressed on the first syllable; Stronger w, and harder ch sounds
Speaks: Frederican, very little Magics Standard
Resulting accent: Has no trouble with throathy ch sounds, but lisped s, and ly/ty sounds are difficult, front-heavy intonation on words
Daphne:
Native language: Dominian 
Sounds: Bright and open mouthed vowel sounds, 9 distinct ones spoken in isolation, complex consonants like ar, ny, ty (rare), gn; final syllables are often swallowed; inflection is not word specific, but changes within a sentence going from high tone sections to low tone sections marking different sentence components
Writing: letter by letter with few exceptions in “cursive”
Speaks: Old Dominian Runespeak, Magics Standard, Simplified Melodean
Resulting accent: Has trouble with complex vowel sounds and usually speaks with either or sound, speaks longer sections with on breath than strictly necessary in Melodean
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bookandcranny · 3 years
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Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon. 
The right thing to do is to support him in it, so says tender-hearted big brother Hercules, and if that means jumping through a few hoops to attend some strange human ceremony in this hot and lifeless wasteland, then that’s simply what they’ll do.
summary: Five siblings from the stars come to earth by invitation of their estranged little brother, who’s only request to them is that they take a road trip across the American southwest and try to learn to see this planet the way he sees it.
content warnings: dysfunctional families, carsickness, strong language, fear of abandonment, and accidental misgendering of a nonbinary character
length: about 7k words
also, have a playlist!
🛸🛸🛸
On a particularly sticky day in late July, a black minivan rolls up outside Gruber’s Convenience somewhere in the vague liminal world of the i-110 out of El Paso. Shimmering like a mirage the vehicle comes to a stop and five figures shuffle into the station. Working the counter is a greasy-faced teenager who calls himself Benj, though according to his nametag he’s Benjamin until the end of his shift.
If he weren’t intentionally ignoring the group that just walked in, resenting the loss of quiet and the cool air that just escaped with the chime of the door, Benj would notice a few things about them. For one thing, while they all look quite different, all five of them are wearing the exact same clothes: pale blue t-shirt, gray jeans, plain white sneakers, not a toe scuffed or sullied by the dust they kicked up coming in. They’re perfectly inconspicuous outfits, but too new, too deliberate in their banality. 
The people in the clothes have much the same effect. They’re collections of ordinary, aesthetically pleasing parts assembled as if at random, almost uncanny at the wrong angle. Not supermodel pretty, but perhaps stock photo passable. One of them keeps touching things. Just, touching them. He trails his fingers over snack cakes and little pouches of corn nuts with an unreadable expression. Three of them are clustered together in front of the drinks fridge speaking in hushed tones. 
The last one of the bunch is hovering in the corner making eyes at the shop’s resident mascot, Garfield, an uncreatively named tabby cat who’s taken to sleeping on a box underneath the AC unit. The cashier does notice her (he thinks she’s a her) if only because she’s kind of cute, in a straight-laced camp counselor kinda way. He’s already building up an idea of her in his head, every atom of it more false than he realizes.
The Christine or Sydney or whoever reaches down and gives the cat a poke, which turns into an experimental stroke. 
“Mrph?” says Garfield, like cats do.
“Mrph?” parrots the... Liz maybe? No, not quite, he thinks. Garfield blinks at her, yawns. She withdraws, looking half offended by his indifference.
“Don’t take it personal,” Benj says. “He’s not very social.”
She looks at him for the first time and he reevaluates his earlier assessment. Eyes too pale, too far apart-- not ugly per se but definitely not worth the possible write-up he’d get for flirting with a customer.
“He’s the owner’s cat,” he babbles, scratching his chin and looking anywhere but at her. “Or so they say. Honestly I think he just showed up here one day and no one could get him to leave.”
Before she can reply, one of her matching buddies comes up to the register and dumps an assortment of snacks onto the counter. It’s a baffling, eclectic pile, but like any good retail worker Benj has long since learned not to examine anything too closely.
“Road trip, huh? Where are you guys headed?”
The radio behind the counter has gone all staticky. He fiddles with the antenna.
“Visiting family,” says snacks guy. His voice is soft and monotonous, a stark contrast as the guy’s built like a US SEAL. 
Benj looks from face to face. “All of you?” He’s having a hard time believing any two of them are related.
He nods, once. A stiff, decisive shake of the head. The crackling of the radio is getting worse. Benj turns it off.
“Will that be everything, sir?”
Another nod. 
“Herc, wait!” One of the man’s supposed relatives comes up behind him and shakes him by the shoulders. “Hercules, look at this.”
He slams a book down on the counter, one of the cheap paperbacks Gruber’s pedals between the condoms and the first-aid kit stuffings. The cover reads, “The Chest from The West” and features a heavily airbrushed model in a cowboy hat and unbuttoned flannel shirt.
“What am I looking at?” Herc asks.
“Get this too. I want to read it.”
“Why?”
He opens his mouth but whatever he’s about to say, Benj doesn’t really want to be present for it. He quickly scans the book and throws it cover-side-down into the bag. Let them work this one out on their own, hopefully somewhere else.
“Your total’s $29.75” He spins around to shake the radio, which is somehow now back on and blaring louder. When he turns back, the register is telling him everything’s been bought and paid for. Guy must be lightning quick with a credit card, he thinks.
“Huh. Guess you’re all set, man-- sir.” He hands them their bags. “Have fun at your family thing.”
He flashes the big guy a thumbs up. He looks strangely staggered by the gesture and replies haltingly, “Thank you. You also, have fun.”
“Come on, sibs,” the more energetic one chirps. “Cass? Cass, come on.” He drags his sister away from the cat, who’s just starting to warm up to her. “That’s you, remember? Let’s go.”
They don’t get any gas from the pumps outside. Benj is pretty sure he saw the testy looking one with the ponytail shoplift a bottle of off-brand cola, but he isn’t paid nearly enough to care. At least after they’re gone the radio starts working normally again.
Hercules drives, though it’s not so much driving as sitting in the driver’s seat and telling the van to go. Earth machines are simplistic and easy to manipulate. Slow though. Cass is riding “shotgun”, as is apparently customary for the navigator. Andromeda, Zeta, and Camelopardalis share the backseat, where the formermost is rehashing the same tired debate with the latter.
“We need to work out a better earth name for you,” he insists. “Myself, I’ve been doing some research and I’m thinking about going by ‘Andy’ from now on.”
“I’m not calling you that,” says Zeta.
Camelopardalis asks, “What’s wrong with the name I have?”
“It is a bit long,” Cassiopeia agrees. “A shorter one would help you fit in better.”
“Speaking of fitting in, something else has been bothering me. What’s your gender supposed to be?”
“My what?”
“You know, your gender. We all picked one.”
“It’s almost like you didn’t read the brief,” Zeta says, instigator that she is.
“It’s almost like none of you read the brief, that I took the time to write specifically to help you all acclimate to earth culture.”
“Zeta, don’t upset Cass,” Herc scolds.
“I’m not upset.” She turns in her seat to stare pointedly out the window. There isn’t much to look at, just miles upon miles of rolling desert interrupted by the occasional billboard or truck stop, all crawling by at a snail’s pace compared to the sort of travel they’re used to. Not that she’d recognize the analogy. She misses the cat.
Camelopardalis fiddles with their seatbelt. “Which one are you again?”
“I’m a ‘man’,” Andromeda recites. “Earth men are known for their physical prowess and carnivorous diet, they live in cave environments, and often congregate in packs called ‘fraternities’.” He waves the gas-station novel in the air. “I’m going to research their habits and perfect my persona. By the time I’m done with this I’ll practically be a local.”
“I don’t know… Zeta, what made you decide to be the other one?”
“Flipped a coin.”
“Women,” Cass informs them. “Can be most commonly identified by their long hair, fastidious hygiene habits, the use of traditional face paints to accentuate the eyes and lips, and by fleshy protrusions of the upper torso. Any of these traits can indicate an earth woman, though none are necessarily required.”
They throw up their hands. “How is that helpful at all then! Zeta?”
“What do you want me to do about it? I didn’t invent them. Hercules, are you sure these ‘snacks’ are safe to eat? They have a strange texture.”
“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.” He punctuates the point by reaching back and grabbing a cream-filled cupcake off the pile. He tears the plastic with his teeth and eats half of it in a single bite. He barely tastes the thing, but he’s hoping if his siblings follow his lead their mouths will be too full to whine at him.
“Yeah, Zeta, don’t be a bitch.” Andromeda opens a pack of mini donuts, albeit more gingerly, and pops one into his mouth.
Cass whips her head around. “Where did you learn that word?”
He holds open the paperback and points to a page.
Austin hesitated. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. What if I fall?”
Derek chuckled manfully. “Don’t be a bitch, city boy,” he teased. Then he placed his large, calloused hand upon the small of Austin’s back. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t ever let you fall.”
The navigator leans over the center console and tries to snatch the book away but he dodges swiftly, clutching it to his chest.
“That’s foul language, Andromeda Alpheratz.”
“Earthers use this kind of speech with each other all the time. It’s a sign of familiarity and affection. You guys need to be less formal if you want to blend in.”
“If it’s meant to be an insult,” Camelopardalis wonders. “Why would they use it to convey affection.”
“Because they’re brutish, unevolved lifeforms,” Zeta sneers. “‘Blend in, blend in’. The rest of you can worry about blending in with the apes. I’m only doing this for Perseus.”
“We’re all doing this for Percy,” Hercules says in a chastising voice that makes even Zeta shrink down in her seat. “So can we please agree to be somewhat civil and not make this trip more painful than it needs to be?”
There’s a murmur of general agreement and peace is restored, however temporarily. Camelopardalis clears their throat.
“I still don’t really understand why we couldn’t land directly at Perseus Nine’s coordinates.”
Cass huffs, blowing a dark curl out of her face. “For the last time, Percy specifically requested we partake in the human ritual of the ‘road-trip’ for this last portion of our journey. It’s the same route he traveled the first time he came to earth, and apparently holds some sort of sentimental significance. It’s important to him we experience the same pilgrimage. For some reason.” 
She adds the last part under her breath, knowing full well the others will still hear her. They can hear one another when separated by countless miles of empty space, their voices resonating from star to star, clear as a bell. Compared to that, the close proximity of a rented minivan is stifling. There’s an uncomfortable intimacy to it, these crudely assembled physical forms pressed together, bloated and heavy with all the trappings of humanity. Sweat and road dust and gravity cling to Cass like an over-warm coat and she longs for the cool estrangement that comes so easily in the void of space. It’s tough to be a star-dweller away from her star.
“The reasons don’t matter,” Herc declares, and his word is as good as law here. He is the eldest of them, though the concept of seniority is abstracted somewhat by the literal millennia they’ve all lived through.
Percy is the baby, as well as the black sheep of the family, so to speak. (His actual moniker among their kinfolk roughly translates to “the dissonant note”, a scathing insult for those who knew what it meant.) Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon. 
The right thing to do is to support him in it, so says tender-hearted big brother Hercules, and if that means jumping through a few hoops to attend some strange human ceremony in this hot and lifeless wasteland, then that’s simply what they’ll do.
“At least we can check one more stop off the list,” Zeta quips. “What’s next?”
Cass checks her itinerary. “We are to visit one national historic landmark, one ‘tourist trap’-- whatever that means-- followed by a stop at ‘Diane’s Diner’, home of the world’s best pie. After that, we can head straight to the meet-up location.” She glances at the clock on the dashboard. “We’re a little behind schedule but we should make it right on time as long as there are no unexpected delays.”
An hour and a half of driving later, Andromeda throws up corn chips and mini donuts all over the back of Herc’s seat.
They pull over on the side of the road. The desert sand is just beginning to give way to sparse yellow grass, brittle from the sun. Herc steadies Andromeda, looking viscerally displeased as he finishes emptying out his recently manifested stomach.
Camelopardalis frets through the whole episode. “We’ve all been eating the same food, except for Zeta. If it’s poisonous, one of us will be next.”
“It’s not poison, it’s carsickness,” Cass sighs. “Honestly, I’m starting to think none of you even looked at the brief.”
“Zeta, look in the back for something to clean up with.”
“Why me?”
“We’re going to lose so much time���”
“Would you rather hold him?”
Andromeda retches.
“Do you think Percy would care if we skipped a couple stops?”
“Cassiopeia Sigma,” Hercules begins sternly.
“Alright, alright. I’ll figure something out.”
Fortunately they’ve happened to stop within walking distance of something called The Trinity Site, according to the map. Camelopardalis and Cass go ahead to check another stop off the list while Zeta and Herc clean up the van and make sure Andromeda isn’t actually dying. (How embarrassing, to be a quasi-immortal astral being only to perish at the hands of a tainted twinkie.)
They wander from the roadside, following the map and occasional signposts, and shortly find themselves standing in front of an ominous looking stone obelisk with a bronze placard affixed to one side.
Trinity Site: Where the world’s first nuclear device was exploded on July 16th, 1945
There’s more but Cass stops reading. Camelopardalis asks her to explain what the plaque means by nuclear device-- they’re familiar with nuclear power as a concept, fission and fusion, ideas not far departed from the system of energy exchange that sustains their natural bodies in the heart of their stars-- but goes pale when she goes into the relevant applications of said devices.
“Wonderful,” she grumbles to herself as she snaps a few photos of the monument with a disposable camera. “I’m sure Percy will be thrilled.”
“Excuse me.”
The pair turn to see a man in a colorful button-up and khakis and a woman with a day-old sunburn peeling off beneath the straps of her tank top. 
“Boy are we happy t’see the two of yous. Couldja take our picture real quick?” 
The woman holds out a camera, a significantly more professional piece of equipment than the one Cass is holding.
“Oh, sure,” Cass replies. She’s nervous as she takes it from her hands. She’s never encountered this sub-species of human in her research before, and finds it difficult to parse the woman’s peculiar dialect. Both of them are smiling, but they’re also showing a lot more teeth (and a fair bit of gum) than she thinks is normal. A subtle threat?
Nevertheless, she fumbles with the camera for a moment before managing to take a decent snapshot. The man wraps an arm around his wife’s waist and she slots herself in against his side.
“Ope, wait, let’s do a silly one to send to Marsha and the kids. Were my eyes closed? No? Perfect, you’re a doll. We’ll leave you kids alone now.”
“Sure,” she says again, feeling out of pace.
“My nephew wears his hair like that,” the man says without segway. He’s talking to Camelopardalis, they realize. “It’s very… hip.”
They touch their hair. They hadn’t given it much thought before, might not ever have if he hadn’t pointed it out. It’s nice, they think.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
His expression flinches into a puzzled frown. Cass smacks their arm.
“Sir! Thank you, sir.”
After they’ve walked away Cass gives him another jab for good measure.
“His hair was longer than the other one’s,” they complain. “And the chest was sort of fleshy. How was I supposed to know?”
“We’re lucky you didn’t cause an incident. Earthers carry weapons in this part of the world.”
They rub their arm. “I don’t know, they seemed nice.”
Still they give a fleeting glance at the plaque behind them and argue no more.
They return to the van, now blessedly puke-free. Andromeda is looking better too. They all pile in and almost immediately Camelopardalis misses the freedom of being able to move without touching somebody. It may be their imagination, but the car seems to be moving slower than ever.
“How was it?” Zeta asks, despite her obvious disinterest.
“Uninspiring,” is Cass’ reply.
The other nods and doesn’t force her to elaborate. “I wish I knew what Perseus intended for us with this… chore list.”
“It’s not important, we just do it.” 
Herc is always a steady presence, but even he is starting to sound annoyed with repeating himself. Zeta, of course, can’t leave well enough alone.
“If we just knew what he wanted us to do or say we could do it and go back to how we were before.”
Cass snaps. “Maybe you should stop complaining and make an effort for once.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
The car erupts into a heated four-way argument. Only Hercules resolutely abstains from comment, though his hands tighten into fists on the steering wheel. The fight doesn’t end in resolution so much as exhaustion. Everyone’s too miserable to keep hurling accusations and insults for the next hundred miles, and at length they lapse back into tense silence.
Zeta rests her head against the window, taking the arythmic rattle into herself, breathing it out in silent, frenetic melodies. She dislikes fighting with her siblings, no matter what they might claim to the contrary. It doesn’t happen often, or didn’t, but things have been different since Percy left home. The littlest star-child had a natural soothing presence to him, one that she’d long taken for granted. Earth is so noisy, she thinks. She strains to listen but she can’t hear a trace of him anywhere.
She tries to imagine what he’d say, if he were here.
“What are we even doing?” 
Probably not that, but she already has everyone’s attention now so she figures she might as well keep going.
“I mean, we’re still behind schedule, we can’t stop bickering, Andromeda can’t even eat right apparently, and I’m pretty sure half of us didn’t even look at Cassiopeia’s brief.”
“Are you getting to a point?” Cass asks irritably.
“I’m just saying we’re all… bitches.”
“Zeta!”
“Get comfortable with it! We’re all bad at this. Me, you, all of us. So can we just stop blaming each other and have a truce in the interest of getting this over with?”
Cass opens her mouth, then lets it fall shut, sinking back into her seat. For a moment it seems they’re heading for another long awkward silence, when Andromeda sits up and points out the window with a sudden urgency.
“Look!”
Herc slows down and they see a billboard lit up in eerie green neon light, directing them to the next off-ramp.
Must see attraction! Visit the one of a kind Ancient Aliens Exhibit! 
The star-folk look at one another.
“Is this what they call a tourist trap?”
“It seems likely.”
Andromeda is glowing-- in a very literal sense-- with excitement. “It’s an exhibit about us.”
“‘Ancient’? Speak for yourself, I’m still only in my six-thousands.”
Needless to say, they do stop at the roadside museum. Cass takes pictures aplenty and, to her surprise, actually enjoys it. Andromeda is disappointed to find there isn’t actually a display dedicated to their kind. Instead there are a lot of grainy photos of some squat, bug-eyed species called “greys” and diagrams of the Egyptian pyramids for some reason. He gets over it by the time they get to the gift shop.
By unanimous decision, they do not buy anymore snacks, though Zeta’s eye does linger on a cooler in the corner advertising “the ice cream of the future!”. Herc does however buy a number of souvenirs. (Rather, he convinces the automated register to record a purchase that didn’t technically take place, and bumps up the number in the bank account of one very nice tour guide while he’s at it.) 
They leave with a mood ring, a handful of polished stones in a small velvet bag, a “gravity defying” purple yo-yo shaped like a UFO, and Camelopardalis sheepishly lays claim to a friendly looking martian figurine with bendable limbs. Overall, spirits are much higher by the time they make it back to the van.
“Hercules,” his meek younger sibling ventures. “Could I try driving? I’ve been curious about it.”
Feeling generous and more than a little tired of staring out at the road for hours at a time, he agrees. He shows Camelopardalis the basics and makes sure they know how not to veer off the road or into other drivers and then he climbs into the middle backseat and stretches out his arms so the siblings on either side of him can tuck in against him and rest. Eventually even the diligent navigator Cassiopeia begins to doze. It’s been a long day and none of them are quite accustomed to the burden of having earthbound bodies.
When Andromeda wakes up the first thing he registers is that it’s getting dark, the day reduced to a slim red band sinking over the horizon. The second thing is the yelling.
“What do you mean you don’t know!”
“I thought I could read the map myself--”
“What about you, navigator? What were you doing?”
“--didn’t mean to--”
“As if you’re one to talk! I can’t believe--”
“--and you were the one who--”
“Shut up!”
Hercules’ normally subdued baritone booms through the van. The windshield wipers begin swinging as if in indignation, while the passengers wince and cover their ears. Andromeda can’t remember a time when his brother’s frequency had felt so violent. The shivering resonance it leaves behind makes his teeth ache.
There’s a pregnant pause, then Cass slams open the door and begins to pace.
“Shit!” she yells at the empty air. They’re parked in a field somewhere, no sign of life save for the buzzing of insects and the rumble of a train somewhere off in the distance. Cass kicks at the ground and screams again. “Shit fuck bitch hell! We are so fucking lost! And so fucking late!”
Andromeda winces again and gets out to try and calm her. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“It is not! We’re probably missing the ceremony right now. Percy will never forgive me for this.”
“It wasn’t your fault…”
“I’m supposed to be the navigator!”
“Well, yes, but…” The words come out strangled. He touches his chest and realizes he’s breathing rapidly. His eyes are beginning to water as well. “I should’ve… I didn’t…”
Zeta hurries over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick again?”
Without warning he doubles over and begins bawling. 
“Hercules, do something! Something’s wrong with him!”
“Don’t… don’t… don’t…” he gasps and stammers.
Herc clutches his brother. “Don’t what? Talk to me.”
“Don’t fight,” he finally chokes out. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Percy,” he sniffles miserably. “He doesn’t care about us anymore. He has earth now, and all his new earth friends, and we can’t even do this one thing for him. It’s my fault. I knew he hated when I called him a dissonant note and made fun of his earth music but I did it anyway. Now he probably hates me and all of us and this whole thing has been for nothing.”
The eldest braces his arms on Andromeda’s slumped shoulders. “Percy doesn’t hate us. He invited us here because he wanted to see us.”
“Herc’s right, Andromeda. Percy doesn’t have it in him to hate anyone.”
“It’s not easy, but he chose this. He chose earth. We have to respect that.”
Zeta grumbles, “And just what is so special about this stupid planet anyway?”
“It has cats,” Cassiopeia says quietly. Her sister glares but she stays firm. “Well it does. And… people.”
“Strange, silly earth people,” Camelopardalis adds, nervously fussing with their hair. “Confusing and contradictory and fascinating.”
“People who hurt each other for no good reason.”
“People who are kind for no good reason too.”
Andromeda wipes phosphorous tears from his eyes and takes out the rumpled gas-station paperback. “In this book Austin leaves his job as a big city lawyer to follow the cowboy he’s in love with.”
“You think Perseus traveled to earth for cowboy love?”
“It’s a possibility!”
Cass scoffs. “I honestly don’t think he was thinking that far ahead. You know Percy. He probably crash-landed without any plan whatsoever. Or, he probably thought he knew what he was doing, and then when he actually got there he was terrified. And then he probably didn’t want to say anything because he was afraid his siblings would think less of him once they realized he was actually just as clueless about earth stuff as they were. That would probably be really, really stressful for him.”
“Are we still talking about Percy?”
She makes a wordless noise of frustration and kicks up another patch of grass.
Andromeda puts an arm around her. “If… Percy was worried about that, I’d tell her-- him! I’d tell him that he shouldn’t be, because there’s nothing he could do that would make us stop believing in him.”
She exhales. “Thanks.”
“I was talking about you, Cass,” he whispers. “It’s you I believe in.”
“Thank you, I got that.”
“I just… miss him, I guess.”
Herc hums in agreement. “Barely a millennium old and he’s already grown up and gone completely terrestrial. This past century has been the longest of my existence.”
“Hercules, it’s only been ten years.”
That news causes him to make such a face that Zeta starts laughing. It’s the first time she’s so much as cracked a smile the entire trip.
“So… what do we do now?” Camelopardalis asks.
After a moment, Cass grabs the map off the dashboard and holds it open.
“A little more light please?”
They step up behind her and hold a glowing hand over the paper. Her brow creases in concentration.
“Alright, I think we’re somewhere around here,” She gestures. “And we need to be here. There’s no way we’re going to show up on time, but we can still show up. We owe him that much.”
They get in their seats, Herc back at the helm, and begin trying to reclaim the distance they lost with the unplanned detour. Cass breathes a sigh of relief when road signs start to reappear. A driver honks at them as they pick up speed and Herc steers closer and makes their radio start playing at top volume. Zeta opens the window and a cool night breeze tickles her skin. The stars are bright and beautiful above them, and looking up, suddenly home doesn’t feel so far away.
All at once they slow to a near stop.
“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?”
“Traffic,” Herc says like it’s a curse. “Looks like there was an accident.”
“Take this exit,” Cass commands. “We can cut through the next town and get ahead of it.”
So he does and soon they find themselves driving through the quiet streets of Kismet, Nevada. That is, quiet until Zeta catches sight of something out the window and yells, “Pull over!”
“What! What is it now!”
She points, and they see. The sign ahead reads, “Diane’s Diner: Home of the World’s Best Pie”. They pull in so fast they nearly end up colliding with a stout aproned woman who’s pushing a teetering hand cart across the lot.
“What do you maniacs think you’re doing?” she demands as they clambour out of the van.
“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Cass says in a rush. “It is just very important to my siblings and I that we get to this establishment.”
The woman huffs. “You’re a mite late then, I’m afraid. We’re closing up early tonight. Got a big catering order I have to deliver.”
Herc asks, “Are you Diane, of the diner?”
She laughs. “Close. I’m Maddie Finkle of the diner. Diane’s my mother’s name. It’s a family business. But what brings you folks here looking for Diane at this time of night? I don’t think I’ve seen your faces around town before, and I always remember a customer.”
“Do you remember a customer named Percy? It would’ve been years ago, but this place was very important to him. He’s our brother.”
Maddie’s eyes light up. “Why didn’t you say so! Of course I know Percy. And if you rowdy lot are his siblings, then I’ve got a message for you.”
“A message?” Percy hadn’t said anything to them about a message. Maybe this was his way of ensuring they actually made it to the last stop on his list.
“Well, sort of. Come, come, help me load up all this grub and I’ll tell you everything.”
Herc and Zeta go to either side of her and help push the wobbly cart to a truck with the diner’s logo emblazoned on the side. As they load the boxes, Maddie speaks.
“I first met your Percy when I was just a waitress, mama still working the kitchen. One day this kid walks in, looking as lost as can be, comes straight up to the counter and tells me he’s just fallen from outer space and could use some assistance.” She barks a laugh. “I didn’t go for the whole alien thing but that second part was a lot more believable. He looked a mess. I asked if he needed something to eat but he just said he needed a safe place to rest for a moment. He’d been on his feet all day, walking and hitchhiking his way clear across the desert.
“Of course I wanted to know where he was going that was so important, but he said he didn’t know for sure yet. Said he was following a melody, a song he’d heard from very far away that had drawn him to this place. I told him I couldn’t help him there. The only music we had in the diner was this old stereo system mama had put in when she first opened the place and it was long broken. Mama was too sentimental to get rid of the old thing and the repairman couldn’t do anything for it so broken it stayed. 
“He asked me to show him so I did, figuring it couldn’t hurt anything. Then that kid walked up to the busted speaker and just like that it started playing again like it was new. I told him, ‘For that, I owe you more than a place to rest your legs. Stay in town for a while, let us put you up and get you back on your feet, or at least let me drive you to the train station so you can get where you’re going.’ But he refused, and before long he was gone again.
“Then, not a couple days later, spaceboy comes back traveling with this other kid, heading in the opposite direction. I ask him what happened and he says he was going one way but he changed his mind and turned around. He leans in like he’s sharing a great big secret, like we’ve been friends all our lives, and says, ‘I found it, Maddie. I found the song.’ Weirdest kid I’ve ever met! But they make a cute couple, him and that boy, and they’re some of my best customers to this day.”
They finish packing up the truck, Maddie leaning leisurely against the fender as she reminisces. Herc frowns, confused.
“Was that the message?”
“Yup.” She pops the P. “He just told me to tell you the story. Not sure why. I mean, it’s a good story, I think. But you already know all about it, right? You’re his family after all.”
“No, he never told us,” he admits softly.
“Huh. Weird. But then, he’s kind of a weird kid, yeah? I always wondered, is it all you aliens who talk in riddles like that, or just him?”
“I thought you said you didn’t believe his claims.”
“I didn’t the first time, but if your Percy’s one thing it’s… Perc-istent.” When no one laughs, she pushes onward. “Well, that’s all of it. We’d better get a move on, huh?”
“‘We’?”  
“Sure, aren’t you folks on your way to Percy’s place too? I figured you’d be staying over, and I gotta get everything set up for the wedding tomorrow.”
A palpable shock ripples through the star-folk. “Tomorrow?”
“‘Course, what did you think all this was for?” She pats the truck. “I wanted to get everything ready ahead of time so we’re good to go in the morning. It’s not easy being the caterer and providing my lovely self as a guest on the same day, but I couldn’t let those sweet boys down.”
Andromeda slumps over, leaning on Herc for support. “Percy told us the wedding was tonight.”
The chef raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone’s been having a little fun with you. Nah, they’re doing some sort of get-together tonight since neither one of the bachelors wanted a bachelor party, but the actual wedding ceremony’s definitely not until tomorrow.”
“I’m going to end him,” Cass mutters under her breath.
“Hurry up now,” she says. “I’m sure the groom-to-be’s expecting you.”
The five follow Maddie’s truck away from the main drags, away from the buildings, the scenery becoming gradually greener as the road turns from asphalt to gravel. At last they find themselves pulling up in front of the house that Percy has come to call home. It’s a raised ranch, flanked by evergreens and patchwork plots of small white and yellow flowers that Percy’s fiance must have planted, and a tower of plastic chairs and tables covered by a tarp. 
It’s a nice place, large and somewhat secluded, set apart from the noise of traffic or threat of nosy human neighbors. Percy’s sensitive to loud noise and, after all, still an alien living in secret amongst humanity. Yet as they get out and follow the caterer where she’s cutting around back through the garden, they’re struck by the sounds of laughter and music and lively chatter.
A group of earthers are gathered on the patio, smiling faces lit by a string of twinkling lights. A man with a guitar strums along with the music coming from inside.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Andromeda whispers. 
“You think there’s a second Perseus Nine about to be married in this town?” Cass shoots back.
Zeta hisses, “Quiet, I can hear him.”
To his surprise, Herc can too. Above the noise, laced into everything he touches, there is a resonance, his baby brother’s unique personal frequency. To describe it as sound alone would perhaps be inaccurate; it’s a vibration, an echo. Percy is everywhere in this place: his whispers and his shouts, his twinkling laugh, but also the part of him that no human being can detect, the part of him that is still, and will always be, of the stars.
He must sense them too, because in that moment he appears standing in the doorway, bathed in its yellow light. His face breaks out in a glowing grin and he runs to greet them, bolting like a comet being pulled into his siblings’ orbit.
“You made it!” he exclaims.
Zeta snorts and allows him to throw his arms around her. “No thanks to you and your list of demands.”
“You brat,” Cass accuses. “You told us the ceremony was tonight.”
Percy tilts his head to look at her, his expression not half as guilty as it should be. For a moment she reels at the sight of him; the body he’s constructed for himself has aged since the last time they crossed paths. It’s subtle, the way his dimples have deepened into true laugh lines, and his hair has grown ever longer, though it also isn’t as tangled as she remembers. He is still himself, underneath, the light of his true being faintly visible beneath the skin. 
“I was worried if I told you the real date you wouldn’t make it in time. You’re not used to traveling the human way. It can be messy.”
She grimaces. “You’re not wrong.”
“You’re actually here way earlier than I thought you’d be.” His smile falters, only slightly. “This is… everyone?”
Herc swallows. “The others…” he begins, but quickly finds he doesn’t have the words that should follow.
“Well, it’s not like I had enough chairs for all two-hundred-ninety-seven of them anyway.” He reaches out and squeezes his brothers tightly. “Hercules, Andromeda, It’s so wonderful to see you. Camelopardalis, Cassiopeia, it means so much to me that you came. I know it probably wasn’t easy. Zeta…”
She scoffs. “The only hard part was putting up with these bitches.”
Hercules interjects, “We shouldn’t keep you from your party. Go on, I need to get some things from the van.”
“You didn’t bring presents, did you?”
“It’s customary for weddings, is it not?”
Percy grins. “You’re becoming a real expert on earth customs.”
He shrugs and looks at Cass. “I just read the brief.”
Percy invites his family in, along with Maddie, who is perfectly tickled by the siblings’ awkward affection. After helping her bring in the food, Percy beckons over the man with the guitar.
“Adam!”
The man looks up. He has a boyish, freckled face and a head of dark curls that spill over his brow. He sets down the instrument and comes to slot himself against Percy’s side, thoughtlessly, as if that was always where he was meant to be.
“I’d like to formally introduce you to my fiance, Adam. And Adam, this is my family.”
His smile broadens. “Hey, great to finally really meet you guys. Percy talks about you all the time. Did you have a long trip?”
They look at one another for a moment until finally Herc shrugs and says, “Only about twenty-five trillion miles, give or take.”
The happy couple linger for a moment longer, sharing stories and talking about honeymoon plans. Adam is especially thrilled when Andromeda and Zeta begin to co-narrate an embarrassing tale from Percy’s childhood in the Alpha Persei Cluster. Eventually though the pair wander off together, leaving the star-folk to their most harrowing challenge yet: mingling.
“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“Camelopardalis.”
The guest, one of the couple’s mutual friends, goes a bit bug-eyed. “Wow, okay, that’s really cool. Kind of a mouthful though. Got a nickname?”
“Nick… name?”
“Like, something that your friends call you for short. My friends call me Dee, but my highschool nickname was Dent.” They point to a scar on the side of their head, just above their left ear. Their fair hair is buzzed short, making it easy to see. “Long story. What if for now I called you ‘Cam’?”
They consider it. “I think I’d like that.”
“Cool, nice to meet you, Cam.”
“Nice to meet you, Dee.” They hesitate. “Would you say you’re a man or a woman?”
Dee frowns.
“Nevermind! I’m so sorry, I just don’t understand the earth gender binary at all. Everything about it just seems so arbitrary and senseless.”
Oddly enough, their new friend perks back up at this. 
“Honestly, same,” they laugh.
Andromeda joins shortly, having struck up a conversation with Dee’s partner who is deeply intrigued by his review of “The Chest from The West”. The three of them spend a while swapping book recommendations. Meanwhile, Zeta gets hit on by a slightly intoxicated young woman with an undercut and an eyebrow ring, although the star-dweller vastly misinterprets her none-too-subtle questioning about alien biology. Cass meets Adam and Percy’s pet dog, Chowder, and deems him as good a companion as the convenience store cat.
Herc catches Percy alone in the kitchen and the two have a long overdue talk. It’s clumsy but earnest, and when Herc mumbles something out about possible future family visits, Percy throws himself into his brother with such vigor that he momentarily forgets about gravity and starts to float off the ground.
“I’m sorry too, by the way, for the whole thing with the list,” he sighs. “It probably seems pretty stupid, I just kind of hoped I could get you to see this world the way I see it. Full of life and love and adventure.”
“And music,” he finishes, catching the way his gaze flits back to the patio. To Adam, singing softly and dancing with one of their friends.
He nods. “I thought maybe then you’d understand why this is so important to me.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see earth the way you do,” Hercules confesses. “But I don’t think it was stupid of you to try either, and I don’t think it was for nothing.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the mood ring. The friendly prismatic face of a cartoon alien glints up at him. Perseus takes the gift with an understanding chuckle and slips it onto his pinky finger.
“No, not for nothing.”
Tomorrow, there will be a wedding. Percy and Adam will stand in front of their friends and family and exchange their vows. Adam’s mother will complain about them not booking a proper venue for just short of an annoying amount of time, Maddie will bring out a ridiculously tall tier cake that will taste almost as good as one of her mother’s pies, and for once Percy will not be the worst one on the dance floor. 
Tomorrow, there will be a bright silver band around Percy’s fourth finger, neighbored by a smaller ring in the shape of an inside joke, and with all the weight of a promise.
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chibimyumi · 3 years
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hello! i just came across to your post about your thoughts of emerald witch arc if it's got adapted into musical (and why it's more solid arc to be so). i re-read the arc again, and i kinda wonder, based on your opinion, what's the best possible interpretation for the musical towards the dutch dialogue, as we know that in the manga they use square dialogue bubble, while in the anime (as in book of murder ova) they speak the respective language (i.e french), i'm interested with your view to this
【Reaction to post: Emerald Witch Arc as Musical?】
Dear Anon,
Oh that is a wonderfully good question (Ó艸Ò) For the post you referred to I just kinda went ahead and dreamt about it without thinking about the practicalities (≽▽≼) Dear @midnight-in-town​ and @kuroshitsuji-effervescence​ wrote about the challenges regarding the French in “Book of Murder” here in this amazing post. So in the same way, German might indeed prove to be a bit of a challenge too!
Ermmm, after giving the technicalities some thought thanks to you, I have different proposals for different situations... I just don’t know whether it’d work in practice. HOWEVER, IN THEORY..........................!!!!!
1. Establishment of Situation
In theory, I think the most important thing in the first stage is to establish that our protagonists will be in a German setting where people communicate solely German. A little note like in chapter 87 can easily be dropped with just a TINY tweak (which I added in pink) without it feeling like a tiresome exposition.
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In this way the audience will in a short time have the most important pieces of information for the entire musical, namely:
The setting is very far away from a familiar place, probably in Franconia.
Ciel is language-wise like a fish out of water: he tried to learn German, but not enough to actually communicate at all.
Sebas not only knows German fluently, but can even understand and translate local dialects.
A hypothetical WitchMyu wouldn’t be the first to have changed lines for the sake of information. In Tango on the Campania too for example, they gave Sebas the following extra line:
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It was not in the original manga, but it worked wonderfully well to establish master and servant’s dynamic, on top of informing the audience of the boy’s awful stamina.
2. Setting of Language Barrier
I can’t think of one perfect way to do it, but perhaps coloured stage light might do its magic?
After it has been established that the locals speak German, I propose to just let the Japanese actors speak Japanese. (I mean, the standard setting is England but they also just speak Japanese). In specific cases when the portrayal of a language barrier is necessary, perhaps they could colour code the lights, that people who do understand each other have one colour, and the person (Ciel) who doesn’t also gets his own colour. This would also give Ciel’s actor a great chance to show how good his acting is if he can show the audience he can’t follow the conversation with silent acting.
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3. Communication with Language Barrier
There is this one scene in the Werewolf Arc wherein Sieglinde and Ciel try to communicate, but neither speak each other’s language fluently. As it has already been established that the Germans only speak German, and they are the “locals”, I think it would be weird to make them stop speaking Japanese and suddenly switch to (badly spoken) actual German.
Especially in such a scene on stage, I think it would be great to use colour-coded limelights, and make the audience’s understanding of the language barrier dependent on the actors’ acting. If an actor is good and the script is well written, it should be clear that both parties are speaking their own respective languages without a mutual understanding.
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Later in the arc Ciel tried to communicate with Sieglinde with whatever little German he could muster. Even though Ciel’s German would be worse than beginner’s level, it’s still German. So I think it’d be good to give him also a green spotlight and just make the actor speak in very cryptic Japanese.
They could make Sieglinde first speak naturally in Japanese, and as she realises how bad Ciel’s understanding is, make her speak slower and simpler.
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4. Communication without Language barrier
Most scenes in the Arc was actually just Sebas communicating normally in German with the Germans, or the English speaking English among each other.
In cases where there is no language barrier at all, the lime lights don’t need to be colour coded, because then everyone is “neutral”, and the conversations are centered around the content, not the language. The audience should just know by then that the mains all speak English, and that the Germans... well, speak German.
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I hope this idea wasn’t too ridiculous and might theoretically work out in practice too.
5. P.S.
Just a crack proposal that did actually jump into my mind...unbidden. Namely that all actors would carry a small flag of the languages they can speak, and raise the flag of the language they are speaking.
Don’t worry, I yeeted it out of the window immediately. Just wanted to share, because just IMAGINEEEE the ridiculousness!!!  (≽ 艸 ≼;;)
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Related posts:
Furukawa Yuta in multi language
Furukawa Yuta in ...En...glish?
French in Book of Murder
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an-asuryampasya · 2 years
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okay i can't find it now but i remember seeing this post about how english speakers have a certain privilege because they can just go anywhere with the confidence that the odds are people in the location they are travelling to will bend over backwards to cater to them. they don't need to learn the local language to get by, because the tourism industry in said location will probably be geared towards accommodating them. other language speakers can't bank on that - they have to either learn the local language or I suppose english. or how people can go for years in a place without learning the local language.
and it got me thinking about how i've got a friend that's lived in my home state for most of their life, yet never learned the local language beyond the bare minimum. and that's not particularly a problem, because she speaks hindi and english. When I headed off to college in a different state, I didn't worry about learning the official local language either, because I know the basics of Hindi. and the only reason i learnt to speak hindi: well, one answer is that i didn't have a choice. in my school, as it is many, hindi and english are compulsory. english was the medium of instruction + compulsory class, and we had to have a second language all ten years of school + a third language for six years. I could hindi as either my second or third language, but doing hindi in some capacity was non-negotiable. learning the actual local language, however, was not compulsory.
the other reason I learnt hindi is, as my mum once put it, that i had to know the local language to be able to manage anywhere in the home state, hindi to manage anywhere in the country, and english to manage anywhere in the world. and it does kinda work that way for me.
but like. it feels strange equating hindi to english, but it kinda seems like hindi speakers enjoy a similar privilege on a smaller scale? because it's not like hindi is everyone's native lang - sure it's popular, but by no means a language one should so confidently be able to assume is sufficient? but it's hard to think of hindi the same way i think of what effect imperialism had on popularising english. then again, just today i saw a post about hindi imposition killing linguistic diversity, and it's not entirely different, is it?
and it's also complicated because like. that same post mentions english too. in a positive light. because if the country so badly needs a linking language, it's already got english. and idk how to feel about that. english is equally distanced from all states so it's ideal in one way, since no one local language is getting championed over the rest. but at the same time, it's a foreign language. what right does it have becoming so important to us, esp given the history of colonialism? yet i am SO snarky all the time about the hegemonical power of hindi - i've ranted about that often enough. i am far more comfortable being associted with english than with hindi. i can call english "my" language but never hindi. not going into my actual native language because that's too fraught.
just. idk where i'm going with this. probably nowhere. but yeah. Hindi speakers also seem to enjoy a certain linguistic privilege in my country. And it pisses a lot of people off. Imposing Hindi on non-Hindi speakers in an official way or official bodies championing Hindi over other regional languages - which is absolutely happening - sucks and I hate it. Does the answer to hindi's hegemony have to be english though? it's what people go for I know. but mhmmmm I don't know.
I don't know a lick of the local language in my uni town because Hindi is popular enough for me to get by and that shouldn't be okay maybe? Or is it.
mhmm okay this is not a question for me to worry about at 3 AM I suppose.
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