#just like. him sketching during cabinet meetings. and when he's hanging out with people while they arent paying attention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] S2 Gavin - The Stories Project

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers for content not yet released in EN!🍒

Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide

Features S2 Gavin but contains no spoilers regarding the S2 storyline

This is a continuation of The Broadcast Countdown Project. Do read that first!

[ This was released on 25 August 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

Gavin and I are standing outside Door 501 of the 7th block in Pavilion Village.

This is also the home of Zhang Nian, the kidnapper who handed me an anonymous letter in the TV station before eventually committing suicide.

A thorough investigation of the case involving the anonymous kidnapper and his suicide has ended. The STF has also removed the cordoning around the scene.

I liaised with the TV station, planning to showcase the incident from start to end in a special episode of the show which will be aired in the last episode of “Inquiries”.

Gavin: This used to be a crime scene. If you’re afraid, wait for me here. If you need any materials, I can head inside and find them for you.

MC: It’s okay, I don’t avoid such things... Also, I have a feeling that there’s definitely something behind this case worth seeing in person.

The husband and wife who were kidnapped had related the details to me, and mentioned that even though Zhang Nian had kidnapped them, they weren’t treated harshly at all.

It’s just that Zhang Nian was deaf and couldn't speak. He could only communicate with them with hems and haws, which ended up frightening them.

In hindsight, they realised that Zhang Nian never harboured malicious intentions towards them.

MC: What was Zhang Nian’s goal and what did he want to tell us? The answers to these riddles... they might be hidden here.

Gavin pushes the door open, and we step into Zhang Nian’s house.

Gavin: This place was sealed off since the incident, which is why the arrangement of furniture we’re looking at is the same as when he was still alive.

In contrast to the dim and cold space I had imagined, the living room is well lit.

The cream coloured wood flooring, a white cloth sofa, a simple wall painting of the ocean... all of these elements set off one another in the indolent afternoon sunlight, displaying a warm atmosphere.

MC: This place gives me such a strange feeling... the person who lived here must have really loved life...

Gavin: His fiancée decorated this place.

Gavin taps on a magnet on the refrigerator. Tiny colourful slips of paper are stuck underneath zebra, bunny, and elephant magnets.

“Special discount for wax gourds on Tuesday, special discount for pork ribs on Thursday.” - It’s as though the weekly booklet of discounts from the supermarket had been copied down.

“Invitation cards, wedding dress, decide on the hotel.” - The ring which had rolled onto the zebra crossing in the news immediately flashes across my mind.

Aside from that, they have simple recipes on them.

MC: What a pity. If that incident didn’t happen, they would have had a perfect life here.

Gavin: All the furnishings and decor came to a halt when the incident happened to Xu Wen. He did everything he could to retain traces of her existence. As for his own life...

Gavin opens the refrigerator, showing me that it’s more or less empty aside from condiments which had been used a few times.

White cold mist hover in the empty space, out of sync with the warm tones in the living room.

Gavin: This too.

He opens a wall cabinet to reveal a few boxes of ordinary flavoured cup noodles. The incandescent light in the cabinet is chilly, shining on plastic film surrounding the cup noodles.

Imagining the taste of cup noodles submerged in MSG, I once again turn towards the recipes stuck on the refrigerator.

Gavin shuts the cabinet, then points at the bedroom.

Gavin: MC, I want to show you something.

[ Chapter Two ]

Gavin: During the investigation, we found these.

Gavin guides me to the bookcase, then pulls open a drawer at the bottom.

MC: A disability ID, marriage certificate, graduation certificate, guarantee card for a hearing aid and a bank book...

Gavin: We checked his background. He grew up in an orphanage.

Gavin: Back then, the orphanage didn’t have adequate facilities, and didn’t have teachers or special medical setups for guiding people with hearing issues. He was always reclusive in the orphanage, and didn't have friends.

Gavin: When he was ten years old, people from the orphanage and community sent him to school.

While saying this, Gavin retrieves a pile of books from the drawer and shows them to me - they are all sketchbooks, and the pages have long since turned yellow. It’s evident that they were here for a very long time.

MC: He can draw?

Gavin: In these books, there are some sketches of streets and still life. Some are comics modelled after existing works. Although I don’t know much about art, I think he could draw pretty well.

While flipping through the pages, I find myself affected by the exquisite details conveyed in these drawings.

Perhaps because he didn’t go through systematic training, he wasn’t limited to one style in the way he expressed his art.

A distinct and unique style leaving a deep impression seems to break through the sheets of paper, revealing the emotions the artist had hidden in his heart.

MC: ...he must have been a really talented artist.

Gavin points at the wall - there’s a sketch hanging on it. It takes up almost half of the wall, and it’s mounted in a white frame.

MC: The person in the drawing is Xu Wen.

MC: ...it’s drawn really well.

Gavin releases a “mm”, and is unable to hold back a sigh.

Gavin: Extraordinarily well.

It doesn’t matter if it resembles the actual person. It doesn’t matter if it was meticulous or not.

The person in the drawing has her eyes curved upwards with a smile on her face, and she looks like any other young girl you can find in a crowd.

But the limitless gentleness and happiness contained in her eyes - that’s a unique feature belonging only to one person.

Gavin: They seemed to be schoolmates. I read through Xu Wen’s background - she graduated from the same school for deaf students. But there weren't any questionable points in this case, which is why we didn’t probe further. If you want to know the specifics, we'd have to investigate again.

My heart hovers in the air, wanting to figure out everything about this matter.

But from the STF’s perspective, this case is already closed...

Gavin gives me an affirmative gaze.

Gavin: I know what you're going to say. I want to continue listening to this story too. He wasn’t able to speak, but he left behind a voice that he hoped for others to hear.

After a pause, he turns his head, once again glancing at the drawing hanging on the wall.

Gavin: I can feel such emotions.

Gavin says this softly, and the light in his eyes grow deeper.

Floating dust in the surroundings gather on Xu Wen's portrait. We stand in this warm and tranquil space, as though we can sense their story surging forth without a sound.

[ Chapter Three ]

After this, Gavin and I gather information about Zhang Nian and Xu Wen from various sources.

A few days alter, we arrange to meet at a cafe to exchange materials collected from our individual investigations.

MC: I found the teacher from the school for deaf students. He said that when Zhang Nian first arrived at the school, he didn’t even know how to use sign language. He was gloomy and blue.

MC: Only Xu Wen knew how to converse with him, and would teach him sign language after school.

MC: After learning of his interest in drawing, she used her pocket money to buy him colouring pencils and drawing paper in secret without her parents’ knowledge.

MC: They had a pretty happy time in school. Zhang Nian even organised a small exhibition in school, and many teachers and students supported it.

MC: But after graduation, his days became a little more difficult.

He didn’t have a place to stay, and he couldn’t find work. While Xu Wen could rely on her parents for financial assistance, he could only rely on himself.

MC: During this time, Xu Wen seemed to have been using her parents’ money to buy him stationery for drawing, and even accompanied him to set up a stall for his paintings...

MC: But they couldn’t earn money at all.

Gavin opens a few files in front of me.

Gavin: Afterwards, he found a job in a finance company. He went around conducting financial transactions for people, and earned commissions based on the number of successful transactions.

Gavin: Not long after, this company was reported for illegal fund-raising. Both he and his boss were jailed for three years.

I recall seeing his ID from before - a crew cut and a white shirt along with a black suit which looked tidy and fitting.

Turns out he wasn’t working at a bank...

Gavin: Even during his time in jail, Xu Wen never gave up on him. She’d visit him every weekend and converse with him via sign language from across the glass.

Gavin: Of course, Zhang Nian behaved very well in jail, and gave his own drawings to many prison guards. After he was out of jail, he found a stable job.

Separated by the scorching 3pm afternoon sunlight, the gaze Gavin gives me is deep with a tranquil light.

Gavin: Do you know why he planned this kidnapping and handed you the video clip anonymously?

I shake my head. This has been my biggest question.

Gavin takes out a few photographs from the file.

Gavin: Before the case was closed, these documents couldn’t be disclosed to the public, which is why I didn’t tell you at the time.

I scrutinise one of the photographs - an A3-sized sheet of paper is stuck on a door, with a few lines written on it.

From the format of the digits, they appear to be bank account numbers.

Gavin: He was behind this door.

MC: Then these bank account numbers...

Gavin: We checked them.

He points at the first line of digits, then speaks calmly.

Gavin: The first account is for an animal treatment centre. It treats stray cats and dogs which meet with accidents.

Gavin: This one is for a 10 year old girl with hearing issues. She lives with a granny who sells fruits, and is currently saving money for surgery.

Gavin: The both of them had a habit of sending money to these accounts.

Gavin: Even though Zhang Nian continued sending money to them after Xu Wen passed away, he could only maintain his own livelihood with his income.

MC: What you’re saying is, if the video camera could capture this... and document them properly so that more people would know about them...

Perhaps he could help these people. Even if it was for the last time.

MC: ...but that was such a complex method. There was no need to do a good deed in such a roundabout manner, and even kidnap people to reach that goal.

Gavin silently picks up one of the photos from the table - it’s a note that Zhang Nian wrote before he committed suicide. A short message is written on it - It’s Wen Wen’s birthday today.

Gavin: Aside from that, he more or less did think of seeking revenge.

Gavin’s finger remains on the photograph.

Gavin: In Zhang Nian’s life, Xu Wen was the only one who gave him warmth. She was his lover.

Gavin: After losing such a person, it isn’t difficult to guess what kind of an attitude he had when facing this world, and facing the people who caused such an ending.

Gavin: When people are in pain, their hatred will involuntarily become amplified.

Gavin: From this perspective, at least he didn't take things even further.

Gavin’s voice is dull, as though he’s mulling over something, or affected by their misfortune.

I can’t help but reach across the table, gently bumping the tip of his finger with mine.

Silence permeates the air. He curls his finger slightly, hooking it around mine.

[ Chapter Four ]

The files, photographs, and a few scattered pages of a notebook are spread on the table randomly, as though illustrating their entire story in front of me.

The car accident was a tragedy, but it wasn’t the only tragedy. I find myself hesitating to speak. When I open my mouth, I sigh.

MC: Xu Wen was such a good person. She tugged onto him from beginning to end, and never gave up on him for a single moment. She actually managed to pull him out of the abyss.

Even though she couldn’t hear nor speak, she used her gentle gaze to heal the person she loved.

Gavin tidies the items on the table one by one, storing them properly.

His composed voice is mixed with ruefulness. He seems to be slightly moved, but has more or less come to terms with his emotions.

Gavin: From the perspective of an observer, there were many dismal and extreme traits in Zhang Nian’s personality. This is a point that can’t be denied.

Gavin: However, he was abandoned from the moment he was born. The path he walked on all these years, and the world that he saw - those are things we’d find difficult to relate with.

Gavin: Perhaps from the time he knew about the world, he realised that living was already something requiring courage.

Probably seeing such stories again and again when handling various cases, Gavin’s attitude is objective and calm.

Gavin: No matter what attitude he had when he made this decision, he shouldn’t have done so.

In contrast to the practised manner in which Gavin handles his emotions, I remain immersed in the regretful ending experienced by the two.

MC: Aside from her, he had nothing else.

The furniture, the recipes underneath the magnets, and the drawing hung on the wall... these images flash past me one by one.

MC: If I were the one who experienced this, and the only important person in my life was gone, I’d lose my connection with this world. Perhaps death would be a form of liberation.

Before I can finish speaking, Gavin raises his voice, cutting off my impending sigh.

Gavin: It wouldn’t.

He looks at me resolutely and decisively.

Gavin: No matter when, death will never be a form of liberation. Pain can always be treated.

Gavin: Whether it’s because someone important is no longer around, or if you were to lose contact with someone, it’s inevitable to carry some pain.

Gavin: Perhaps time is needed, and perhaps meeting a certain someone is needed, to gradually put an end to such pain, and to use various methods to put an end to such pain.

Gavin: But things will always get better.

Gavin seals the brown paper bag which is filled with materials related to Zhang Nian and Xu Wen, then places it at the corner of the table which has been warmed by the sun.

I watch as his palm presses against the paper bag, a moment of hesitation surging past his slightly lowered gaze. Almost at the same time, he looks up at me -

There’s only certainty in his eyes.

Gavin: No matter when, never give up on yourself. Xu Wen was constantly pulling him out of the abyss. He shouldn’t have given up like that.

[ Chapter Five ]

By the time Gavin and I walk out of the cafe, much of the sun’s heat has dispersed. Wind blows over from the river, and it’s refreshing and soothing.

Countless little flowers with names I’m unaware of bloom among the grass along the street, swaying in the evening breeze of midsummer.

MC: The weather is really nice today.

After sitting down for an entire afternoon, I can’t help but stretch, relaxing my shoulders and back.

Before I can take a few steps, I suddenly remember the moment I met Zhang Nian face-to-face, causing me to halt in my footsteps. He had walked towards me in a timid manner, a sincere and apologetic expression on his face.

He had handed me a letter, its edges creased from being pinched. Then, he turned away hurriedly before running away.

Too much time has passed. Even his Evol has lost its effectiveness.

Gavin senses that something is off about me, and draws a few steps closer. I wave my hand at him, signalling that I’m fine.

Having second thoughts, I can’t help but sigh with emotion.

MC: If only Zhang Nian was willing to contact me earlier and tell me about what exactly happened...

MC: If only I could tell him how nice today’s weather is. I wonder if he’d have made such a decision.

Gavin responds decisively from beside me.

Gavin: He wouldn’t.

Gavin: If someone told him that the weather would be nice today, he’d have definitely held on for a while longer.

Gavin: But he couldn’t always wait for someone to pull him along and bring him out of the abyss. He had to muster his courage and walk out by himself.

I nod quietly, gripping the notebook in my hand.

MC: Gavin, aside from the original plan for this episode, I think I’d need to add some new content...

Gavin halts in his footsteps, immediately reading the thoughts in my heart.

Gavin: Are you thinking about how there are many people in the world like Zhang Nian?

MC: Mm.

There are definitely some people who are shouldering pain alone, and are hesitating at the crossroads of life and death.

MC: Although this tragedy can no longer be salvaged, we could prevent even more tragedies from occurring.

I turn towards the direction of the river, looking afar at the boundless sky.

MC: I want to tell them about the beautiful scenery all around the world, and the beauty of the four seasons.

MC: Tell them about the colours of sunset, the sounds of the ocean...

MC: And tell them that as long as they’re willing to wait for a while longer, there are still people on earth who will love them.

MC: I want their eyes to be able to see the world that I see. I want them to believe that this world is always worth it.

Realising how overly idealistic and visionary my words are, I give Gavin a smile.

MC: ...I might have sounded too exaggerated.

Gavin: Nope. It will be a very meaningful show.

He suddenly reaches out, combing my hair which has been blown messy by the wind. His fingers linger on the ends of my hair for a long time.

The corners of his lips curl upwards slightly, and he brings me into his arms.

Gavin: Thank you.

Gavin: This world is always worth it.

His voice is far too soft. For a moment, I wonder if I misheard.

MC: What did you say? I couldn’t hear you clearly.

Gavin chuckles, then raises his volume.

Gavin: Since the weather’s pretty good, want to go for a drive?

MC: Did you drive here today?

Gavin: Mm. It’s rare to have such nice weather, so I took the car out for a drive.

MC: Wow~ That is rare. It’s been such a long time since I sat in Captain Gavin’s car.

Gavin takes my hand, striding with large steps as he leads me forward.

Gavin: Let’s go. The car’s in front.

- End -

Filming for the special episode of “Inquries” came to an end. When the final episode aired, the show became a trending topic. After watching it, many members of the audience provided assistance and support for organisations targeted at disabled individuals. Although Zhang Nian and Xu Wen have already left this world, they’ve enabled people who experience difficulties in life to obtain warmth. Such warmth continues to last. I guess being able to allow more people to believe that the world is worth loving, and to do what little they can to help those in need is what it means to be a person in the media industry.

More S2 content: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin

52 notes · View notes

bluemoon-writer · 4 years

Text

Time Management

In which Marinette Gets Her Shit Together

girl has a lot on her plate

so she has to work on some major time management

starting with what is most important

-first is school

She has to get good grades so she can get in to the design school she wants. All her extracurriculars won’t be shit if her grades are bad

so she asks her teachers if she can get a list of the assignments that will be due throughout the year (and uses a bit of her power as class president to convince them that she should know)

then she get a filing cabinet and gets to work

each cabinet is a class, which is organized by month

Marinette obviously can’t do all of her homework for the year over one weekend (some, like math, she can’t do very far in ahead either)

but it’s a four day weekend and she dedicates the first day to getting the first two weeks of homework done and safely filed to be turned in later

-then, it’s time to plan out the rest of her homework.

she can’t do her math homework very far in advance because otherwise she’d have to teach herself the math with would be more time consuming

however, most math assignments only take 20 minutes so she can easily do them during lunch if she wants

she continues to try and keep ahead on her other assignments so she’s covered if there’s ever an akuma attack that doesn’t give her time for homework or if she’s just too busy one day then she won’t have to worry because most of her homework is done

-the biggest thing is getting a head start on the projects

by the end of the weekend she was able to come up with a plan of what she wanted to do for all of them

then she looked for other assignments that weren’t big projects but would require a little planning

the third day of her long weekend she made a calendar, detailing when each assignment was due and when tests were. Later she’d add in events and commissions

-Then she has to figure out her responsibilities as Class President

-She has to meet once a week at lunch with the other class reps and the Principal to discuss any new policies or events going on

As Francois DuPont is a private school each class is suppose to hold a fundraiser each semester

(The Mayor and Gabriel Agreste would NEVER send their kids to a public school, you can fight me on this lol)

The class reps plan the school dance, spirit week, and any other schoolwide activities

Class Reps also have the responsibility of making proposals to improve things at the school based on what the people in their class want

And the class rep should plan at least one class activity a semester

(Things might be different in France, but I’m just going off what I did as part of student council in high school)

-Marinette decides on putting up a suggestion box in Ms. Bustier’s room for two weeks so that the class can decide on what they’d most like her to focus on fixing

Then, she’ll weed out the impossible suggestions and the joke suggestions and let the class vote on which options they think are the most important

For the fundraiser, to avoid too much class arguments, she proposes a few options and lets the class vote on them

Her favorite one is the bake sale, her papa offered to let the class come and use the bakery to make and sell the desserts, so she pushes for that one

and the class agrees because it seems like the least amount of work

For class activity, Marinette plans two. One from a list of ideas she proposes and lets the class vote on, and one that is picked by the class placing suggestions in the suggestion box and then voting on it.

Marinette knew she was going to be placed on the design committee when it comes to planning the dance, so she sketches a few designs for a theme to show the reps when they eventually start discussing the dance

-Then number #3 is her passion, design. She’ll need a portfolio for design school

She picks a few projects for herself that she wants to make and think will look good on a portfolio

then she sets up a website for commissions. Relatively low prices for simple things. She’ll sketch just about anything for €10-30 as long as it’s not too big. Color it for another €10-25

She can design and make simple clothes and jewelry. She prefers not to do anything too complicated as a commission bc it’ll just take too much time

She can also do odder comissions, like design furniture (she can’t build it) or tattoos (she can’t tattoo them either lol) she gets a commission to design a really dope sword, and another one to help someone (her age) reorganize their bedroom

starting out is a bit rough, because she needs money to buy supplies to make examples to post on her website and she needs money to pay for the website

so she decides to work in the bakery for an hour or two in the morning

(at least now she doesn’t have to worry about being late to school)

her dad respects that she’s working for the money instead of asking for it and pays her €12/hour bc her help in the morning allows him to almost double the amount of pasteries he makes

(Side note: I have no idea what the minimum wage per Hour in France is bc when I googled it it gave me the minimum wage per month and I have no clue how to convert that to an hourly wage)

So Marinette is able to make €60-120 a week for supplies

The bakery is open 7 days a week, but Marinette only helps out 3-5 days a week. She still likes sleeping in

even when her website kicks off (with a little help from a Jagged Stone commission) she still helps out in the bakery once or twice a week bc she likes spending time with her dad

-But with her schedule more organized she is able to get to bed earlier. She aims for 9pm if she’s getting up at 5am to help her dad

if she’s not she’ll stay up until 10/11pm and get up around 7am

those are the nights she usually does patrol with Chat Noir

ideally, she’d like to patrol more, but it doesn’t do much. Hawkmoth almost never sends an akuma while their patrolling, so they limit their patrols to once a week.

-Marinette can’t do much planning for Ladybug. When an akuma appears she has to transform to take care of it.

Which is what inspired her to reorganize her life and activities

One akuma can cause her to fall behind in so many things, so it’s vital for her to be on top of and ahead of schedule in everything

she does come up with a list of excuses to get away if there’s an akuma.

-at school she proposes an “akuma protocol” to get the students to safety in case an akuma attacks

-everyone is supposed to go to the basement, and class reps are responsible for double checking to make sure no ones left upstairs

this gives Marinette the perfect excuse to get away while at school

makes it a bit of a pain in the ass for Adrien though. Of course, Marinette doesn’t know that

-(eventually, Adrien suggest that there should be a president and a Vice President for each class. The Principal agrees to the suggestion and Adrien runs for Vice President so he has an easier time of getting away during akuma attacks)

Marinette almost had a heart attack when they start working together to plan events

Adrien is very impressed by how organized Mari is

she even schedules time to hang out with her friends (usually on the weekends)

though impromptu hangouts often occur

-now that Marinette’s getting a proper amount of sleep everything she does seems better

-She’s never late to school in the morning, she doesn’t fall asleep in class, her notes make more sense, she better understands what’s happening, which means her grades improve, and she seems to be able to remember things better, she even feels less stressed

-----

This was inspired by a stress management course I had to sit through for one of the clubs I’m in. The lady presenting told us that a lot of our problems are caused by a lack of sleep. A full night of sleep is vital for relieving stress and improving your memory apparently.

If you want to be added to a tag list let me know. I have two right now, one for anything miraculous ladybug related, and one specifically for the Childhood Friends AU, I’ll be posting part 3 of MariKim later tonight or tomorrow morning and one for Max and Markov.

Find Part 1 of the Childhood Friends AU here.

#I swear the presenter almost had a heart attack when i told her I didn't even get four straight hours of sleep a night #miraculous ladybug #ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug au #fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml salt #mlb #ml headcanon

167 notes · View notes

sadkittyworld · 4 years

Text

NS_ Wk 2

Id, Ego and Super-Ego

In the original story, we see the events of the story through Gabriel Utterson’s POV (so far). I don’t think that he is the protagonist of the story even though we see through his eyes.

In chapter 2 we are introduced to 2 new characters, Poole (Jekyll’s Loyal servant) and Dr. Hastie Lanyon (old friend of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Utterson).

Utterson starts to suspect that Hyde is Jekyll’s Gay lover or his illegitimate child. Utterson is haunted by Hyde because he doesn’t know how he looks like.

Utterson’s doubts clear when he finally meets Hyde. Like the other witnesses, he also finds Hyde indescribably loathsome. This feeling is slightly understood when Utterson and Hyde have a conversation.

Utterson visits Jekyll but he’s not home, at this he is relieved.

Utterson looks back at the time when they were young. He states that Jekyll was ‘wild when he was young’: and thinks that Hyde is ‘the ghost of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace’ returning to ruin him.

He worries that time is running out for ‘poor Harry Jekyll’.

Utterson thinks of his own past. ‘groping in all corners of memory, lest by chance some Jack in the Box of an old iniquity should leap to light there’ (Stevenson, 1979, p.42)

Stevenson, R.L. (1979) Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Other Stories. London: Penguin Classics. Reprint, 1999.

Iniquity - wrongdoing, misdeed, sin, immoral behaviour.

Utterson is a character who represents the theme of ‘Repression’. He represses his natural instincts.

Utterson becomes obsessed with Hyde as the story progresses.

In most adaptations Hyde is shown as a hideous monstrous creature. In my version Hyde is too pretty to hate. He has almost everyone tied around his finger. The other character’s in the story are bewitched by his appearance, both men and women alike. This situation causes my Hyde to want to punish those men who pursue him. This leads to the killing of Danvers Carew in my story though he will be named differently to the original.

In the original text we are shown Hyde as:

‘a kind of black sneering coolness - frightened too’ (Stevenson, 1979, p.32)

‘He must be deformed somewhere; he gives a strong feeling of deformity’ (Stevenson, 1979, p.34)

‘an odd light footstep’

‘He was small and plainly dressed’

‘extraordinary quickness’

‘he spoke with a husky, whispering and somewhat broken voice’ (Stevenson, 1979, pp.38-40).

- pale and dwarfish

We know that Hyde and Jekyll are the same person. In my version They are 2 souls in 1 body. The effect of the drug makes the Hyde character able to shape-shift to anyone at will as long as he can picture the appearance in his mind.

If you look at the story carefully it’s not Hyde who is bad but Jekyll who created Hyde in the first place to do bad and get away with.

‘Henry Jekyll [...] is nobody’s hero... He represents the ‘cry of Victorian man from the depths of his self-imposed underground’ (Saposnik, 1971).

Saposnik, I. (1971) The Anatomy of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in English Literature. 1500-1900. Vol.11 No.4, Nineteenth Century, pp.715-731.

In the final chapter we learn that Jekyll cannot reconcile ‘an impatient gaiety of disposition’* with his ‘imperious desire to carry [his] head high’ (Stevenson, 1979, p.81).

He wants to appear better than everyone else.

* ‘loose’ morals

‘Victorian man was haunted constantly by an inescapable sense of division. As rational and sensual being, as public and private man, as civilised and bestial creature, he found himself necessarily an actor, playing only that part of himself suitable to the occasion’ (Saposnik, 1971).

Though many views and attitudes have changed over the years since the Victorian Era, there are still many rules and restriction, old and new, that make people continue the dual or even multiple lifestyle depending on the situation they are in.

Our societies are built around Social Emotion. The way people of the 19th Century saw emotion was very different to the way we see it today. There were different categories of emotion, e.g. ‘appetites’ relating to ‘base’ desire (such as ‘lust’) and ‘sentiments’ which were seen as voluntary & associated with moral behaviour.

When the word ‘emotion’ was used, it was related to movement, or disturbance, usually of a riotous political nature.

We carry some of this meaning into English today: ‘emotional’ people are seen as ‘out of control’, less rational.

According to Hewitt (2017) language ‘offers the clearest view of how cultural attitudes shape our personal experiences of feeling’.

As Hewitt notes, English is full of words relating to embarrassment, including: Discomfiture Awkwardness Mortification Humility Uneasiness Self-consciousness Shame

They reflect the importance to English culture of ‘propriety, decorum, politeness and respectability’ (Hewitt, 2017).

‘Emotion is… produced at the intersection between each person and the culture they inhabit’ (Hewitt, 2017).

‘I never saw a circle of such hateful faces.’ (Story of the Door)

In the novella, the Victorian gentlemen and ladies think they have civilised themselves out of feeling ‘base’ emotions. But Enfield & the others want to kill Hyde just because he injured the child.

Wanting to KILL because he INJURED, is too much. It is definitely not right.

It’s like those self-proclaiming righteous people we see on the Internet. They think they are doing the world a favour but they could be hurting the other person they are persecuting through words. This favour you are doing could well end up being a double-edged sword that will comeback to hurt or ruin you.

Sublimation: diverting a ‘base’ sexual or biological urge into something more socially acceptable.

‘Killing being out of the question, we… should make his name stink from one end of London to the other’.

Shaming is a substitute for what they want to do – which is murder Mr. Hyde.

In 1923 Sigmund Freud identified the so called ‘psychic apparatus’ of the mind.

Id - instincts. (‘Es’): ‘Primitive, unorganised, emotional: “the realm of the illogical”’ (Storr, 1989, p. 60). Governed by the ‘pleasure principle’. Represents the unconscious.

Ego - Reality. (‘ich’) = represents the conscious mind & the ‘reality principle’. Able to defer gratification. ‘Mature’ and ‘reasonable’. ‘Acts as an intermediary between the id and the external world’ (Storr, 1989, p. 62).

Superego - Morality. (‘Uber-ich’): our internalisation of cultural rules (how we ought to behave). Usually works in opposition to the id.

Hyde represents the Id but also display ‘ego’ as he acts in order to prevent his capture.

Jekyll represents the superego but also displays the ego and and the id, I think because it was his idea to create Hyde which came from his inner desire to do bad without being affected by it’s consequences.

We see Utterson as the character of Superego occasionally showing ego.

Freud was inspired by Dr. Charcot of Paris, who treated women diagnosed with Hysteria using Hypnosis. Freud also started a psychiatric clinic the year Stevenson released his novella in 1886. He started the clinic using Hypnosis but later moved on to a new method he invented with his friend Josef Breuer. This method was a ‘talking cure’ called ‘psychoanalysis’.

Psychoanalysis aims to bring out the unconscious (i.e. hidden) desires and memories through ‘free association’ and analysis of dreams. This technique seems to be used by the police nowadays to find out about the criminals and understand their reasons for their crime.

Freud theorised that repression of desires (especially as a child) could lead to ‘fixations’ (obsessions) in later life.

‘Free association’ - the totally free, uncensored expression of thoughts and ideas.

If a patient could recall (out loud) the first instance they experienced a troubling symptom... the symptom would then disappear.

Freud’s idea originated from a German writer.

Art is sublimation according to Freud. He believed that artists and writers had a special skill for sublimation. I agree with his theory in many way. I suppose as an artist myself I tend to draw/ sketch or paint etc... to let out my fixations, my parents say that my drawing seem to reflect on how I am feeling. They can’t seem to figure out much when they look at me, but when they look at my work they say that it looks sad, happy, angry, frustrated etc...

Stevenson was definitely obsessed with the ideology of ‘double life’.

R.L.S’ inspiration for Jekyll/Hyde came from the gentleman William ‘Deacon’ Brodie (1741-1788). During the day, Brodie was a cabinetmaker and the town councillor but at night he was a burglar. Brodie frequented the taverns of Edinburgh’s disreputable Fleshmarket Close. He had two mistresses and five illegitimate children to support. Huge crowds came to watch him get hanged for his crime of theft in Edinburgh’s Lawnmarket on 1st October 1788.

Stevenson’s childhood room contained a cabinet designed by Brodie himself.

Stevenson was fascinated by Brodie.

Before his hit novella about Jekyll and Hyde he co-wrote a play about Brodie in 1878.

The fact that Stevenson dreamt this story is even more significant from a Freudian perspective.

In 1888, in A Chapter on Dreams (Linehan, 2003, pp. 87–91) Stevenson wrote about the ‘Brownie’ like spirits (the ‘Little People’) who brought him his stories while he slept.

‘The dream is a fulfilled wish’ (Freud, 1920).

In The Interpretation of Dreams, written in 1899, Freud, described dreams as ‘the royal road to the unconscious’.

Freudian Dream Psychology:

Freud divided dreams into: manifest content (the remembered details of the dream) latent content (true meaning of the dream).

Dream-work:

Freud’s description for the mental processes by which (potentially disturbing and therefore repressed) desires are made acceptable to the conscious mind – by being disguised as (often bizarre) manifest content.

In Dream Psychology (1920) Freud wrote about the curious category of ‘those dreams which have never been dreamed’ – by which he meant dreams in fiction.

‘During the 20th century, psychoanalysis had a major effect upon both art and literature. Freud’s concept of the unconscious, his use of free association, and his rediscovery of the importance of dreams encouraged painters, sculptors, and writers to experiment with… the irrational, to pay serious attention to their inner worlds of dream and day-dream…’ (Storr, 1989, pp. 90–91).

Storr, A. (1989) Freud: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Reprint, 2001.

Free association is widely used in creative writing practice.

#p7 #wk12 #lecture #workshop

1 note · View note

holy-shit-dangan-ronpa · 7 years

Text

Angie's Art Class

Super belated birthday fic for @dangandingus !! Please enjoy!

AO3 Mirror

Everyone gradually began to bid their farewells as breakfast concluded. Smiles were exchanged as plastic cutlery clattered against the elongated table, as all the students were satisfied with what they had eaten. The maid stacked the dishes, carrying them to the kitchen with a polite grin as each person left the dining hall.

Tightening her scrunchies, Harukawa let out a sigh, as she pondered what she could do today. There were only a limited number of things to do in her room, but she didn't particularly fancy spending time with anyone else.

"Please give it back!" she heard a technological voice whine from behind her, causing her to turn her head to glance at whatever was occurring behind her.

"No way, Keyboard!" the plum-haired child giggled, clutching something to his chest. The robot clawed at him to no avail. It appeared the hair that was normally present on the top of his head was missing, and putting the pieces together lead to the conclusion that the ruler had taken it.

"Kokichiiii! Makiiiii!" a peppy voice called out, with quick footsteps following. The owner of the voice could only be her - she was the only one who would call either by first name.

The caregiver turned the rest of her body in order to meet eyes with the artist, giving her a confused stare. She couldn't fathom a singular reason as to why the other would call out to her, seeing as everyone had just spent breakfast with each other. If she wanted something, she could've asked earlier.

"Hmm? What is it, Yonaga-chan?" the ruler questioned, looking the other over curiously. It seemed the artist had bent over to catch her breath for a moment - physical excursion was definitely not her strong suit. She quickly perked up however, closing her teal irises and clasping her hands together.

"Angie would like to invite the two of you to a private art lesson!" she beamed joyfully.

"Private art lesson...?" the caretaker questioned, looking directly at her. If she was being honest, even the children could draw better than her. She possessed the hand-eye coordination, but not the talent.

"Sounds like fun!" Ouma giggled, feigning interest with a smile.

Maki closed her eyes as to not seem rude, before rolling them not once, but twice. She sighed audibly.

"I won't be going," she replied curtly.

"Kami-sama told Angie that Maki hasn't been getting enough social interaction! And Angie hasn't seen Kokichi hang out with a girl ever! So Kami-sama gave Angie this super cool idea!"

The robot scratched his chin. "I've never seen Ouma-kun interact with a female either..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ouma spat out defensively. "If anyone has gender issues, it's Chabashira-chan!"

"Mmm, Angie thinks you could both use some social skills. Angie already set everything up in her studio!"

"Like I said, I'm not going. Bye," the brown haired girl muttered. A smaller hand pulled her back, teary teal eyes staring into her red ones.

She knows that she's going to hell if she says no to that face.

From back at the table, the magician eats toast slowly. She blinks, trying to register the fact that she's awake and not in her bed. She glanced at the scene behind her, and massaged her temples for a moment. She then snapped her fingers.

Ki-bo's hair was back in place, whilst Yumeno was knocked out on the table from MP drainage. The robot patted her on the back.

"She sacrificed herself in my honor..."

Shirogane looked towards the magician, and quietly began to sing in memorial.

"Yume no tobira... zutto sagashi tsudzuketa..."

Taking this as a chance, the artist took Ouma's hand in her free one, and scurried out of the cafeteria before the other two could question her.

The three arrive in a large room. The walls are a cream color, and the floor is white. There are paint stains absolutely everywhere, particularly a large black smear right near the entrance. Along one wall is a set of cabinets on the ceiling, two sinks, and another set of cabinets under the sinks. There are four large, wooden tables, each with four stools of the same material. Six foot tall mahogany cabinets line another wall, and the other two have a chalkboard and white board respectively. There's a large easel that rests in front of the white board, a palette that's stained with paint resting on it. There's a sketch on the easel too, of some woman with horns and a single, long braid. She almost looked like Tenko.

The caregiver coughs, taking in a musty breath that's sure to have pencil shavings in it. Ouma looks around in awe.

Angie goes under one of the sink cabinets, lighting a pink candle. "Sorry, Angie's pretty messy," she interjected, taking out some cleaning materials. With a rag soaked in cleaning solution, she wiped down one of the wooden tables, along with the sinks.

She then shuffles through one of the kitchen cabinets, throwing random things around before pulling out... a hair dryer.

"Why do you have that...?" Harukawa questions as she plugs it into the wall, turning it to a medium setting.

"All true artists have hair driers!" she yells in response, drying off the wooden table with it. Ouma shrugs.

As soon as the table's dry, Angie instructs her guests to sit. They sit on opposite sides on the table, on opposite corners. Angie hands them each a large clear box, stuffed to the brim with materials.

"Woooooow!" Ouma marvels, and Harukawa can't tell if he's genuine or not. Harukawa opens the box in front of her - art materials. A spiral-bound sketchbook, a packet of pencils with a sharpener, a sponge, markers, colored pencils, paintbrushes, paints, charcoal... Angie's really put a lot of consideration into it, and she admires that.

"Write your name on it, because it's yours!" Angie instructs, smiling. Ouma opens his box, taking out a marker, going to write his name-

As if she teleported, the artist is behind him, holding his shoulders in an iron grip. The color has vanished from her face, eyes staring straight through him.

Ouma seems unaffected, as Angie snatches the marker out of his hand.

"Not. That. One."

Harukawa glances over at them, rather confused. Angie looks the most serious she's ever seen her, and it's quite frightening, if she's being honest. It was almost as if she had been possessed.

"Huuuuh? What's wrong with that marker, Yonaga-chan?" Ouma asks sweetly, looking up at the artist.

The artist twirled the marker around in her hand, before taking it in the thumb and index finger of both her hands. She gestured toward the ruler. "Kokichi, could you read this?"

"Co... pic?" Ouma muttered quietly, looking at the English label with a confused stare.

"Yup, yup! Kokichi's correct!" the artist beamed, clasping her hands together, the marker trapped inside. "Copics are very special alcohol-based markers. Kami-sama will be angry at you if you misuse them."

"What's so special about them?" the caretaker asked.

"Well... Um... They're the best markers, ever! People usually think of Crayola markers when they think of markers... But Copics are the ones the professionals use! They're about 800 yen a piece."

"Wooow, Yonaga-chan spent lots of money on these!" the ruler snickered, pressing his face against the few she had left in his box.

Angie protruded a sharpie from her pocket, handing it to the ruler. "You can use this to write your name on the box. Don’t ever use the Copics unless Angie instructs you to!" She then gave another sharpie to the caretaker, instructing her to do the same.

White sneakers clicked against the floor as the artist then approached her easel.

"Alright, class! Angie-san is ready to give her first lesson!"

Ouma clapped excitedly, while Harukawa closed her eyes and rolled them. Angie took a sketchbook from off the floor, (why it was there wasn't questioned) and opened to a blank page.

"Today, Angie-san is going to teach her students the basics of shading and shape drawing!"

As the last syllable of her words was uttered, a few knocks were rapped against the door. They were light and polite, so maybe it was Amami or Saihara? Angie skipped over to answer the door, and...

"Ryouma?" Angie asked, turning her head to the side as she looked the smaller boy in the eyes. He took whatever he had out of his mouth (it looked like it was Pocky) and sighed.

"Look, I hate to come in during..." the tennis player started, looking over at the scene, "...whatever the fuck this is, but I gotta take something from here.”

“What is it?” the artist mused, unsure of what the other meant.

“Rumor has it you’ve been makin’ statues of everybody. I’m taking mine,” he declares, entering the room and eyeing it for the statues.

“Ah, Angie hasn’t built Ryouma’s statue yet! She wanted to make sure she got your body type right, so she planned on doing you last.”

Hoshi looked confused, but only for a second. “Alright. Thanks. Bye,” he mumbled curtly as he went to leave, the shackle against his ankle clicking as he went.

“Wait! Angie thinks you should join her class!” the artist persisted as the tennis player put his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at her, but didn’t say anything.

“Angie’s teaching Kokichi and Maki some art basics! Angie thinks Ryouma would make a great addition to the class!”

“Not like I’ve got anything better to do,” Hoshi says under his breath, opting to sit next to Maki.

“Aww! Hoshi-chan won’t sit next to me!”

“Nobody wants to sit next to you.”

Ouma pouts, clearly offended. He knows that’s true though, so he doesn’t bother replying.

“As Angie was saying, today she will teach you about shading!” she exclaims, skipping back to the easel. She then widens her eyes as if getting a sudden burst of inspiration, skipping towards the cabinets underneath the sink. Forging through them, she finds a silver ball, and places it on the table where her classmates sat.

“...It’s a cannonball,” Harukawa observed, unimpressed.

“Maki’s right!” Angie replies. She goes into her pocket getting… A sticker? She places it on Maki’s forehead.

“...You gonna take it off?” Hoshi asks, slightly alarmed.

“The kids draw on me all the time. I’m used to it.”

As she says that, the lights in the room begin to dim. Angie goes to one of the cabinets, retrieving a desk lamp. (Nobody has yet to question where she’s getting all of this stuff, and nobody probably will.) She sets it on the desk, pointing it towards the cannonball.

“Neat,” Hoshi mutters, holding his head in one hand as he slumped against the desk.

“Angie wants everybody to pay attention to how the light affects the cannonball,” the artist instructed. “As you can see here, where the light is being shone on to, the ball is bright in color! Buuuut,” she starts to hover her finger along the ball’s side, “as the material gets farther from the source, the light gradiates into a darker color!”

Ouma giggles, switching the light off so that the room is entirely enveloped in darkness, minus the candle Angie had lit earlier. Harukawa switches it back on, giving the ruler a glare.

Angie, presumably unaffected, holds the lamp by the stand. She hovers it in various places around the ball.

“See how when Angie moves the light, the shading changes? Angie thinks that’s real neat!”

After hovering the light some more, the artist goes to the classroom’s rear, switching all the lights on. Hoshi flicks the lamp off.

“Everybody, take a piece of paper from your sketchbooks, and the pack of pencils Angie gave you!”

With a few riiiiips, all is done as instructed. Hoshi borrows a sheet from Maki’s sketchbook, and she sets the packet of pencils between the two of them.

“Use one of the pencils with the ‘H’ on it!” Angie says, smiling as always.

“B? H? Why’s there morse code on pencils?” Ouma grunts, picking up a pencil marked 2B.

“That is the question,” Hoshi snickers, looking at the pencil in the other’s hand. Harukawa giggles, but Ouma just looks at him with a confused stare.

“The codes tell you the weight of the pencil!” Angie clarifies. “Angie doesn’t know what the B and H actually stand for, but B’s are darker than H’s! H is light, B is dark. The higher the number, the lighter or darker the pencil is. H’s are used for sketching, since they’re light and easy to erase.”

Her ‘students’ nod in approval. Harukawa picks a 4H, Ryouma a 2H, and Ouma a 6H. Angie hits her easel with the back of her pencil to get the attention of the others.

“Please draw a circle on your paper!” Angie commands, as she begins to sketch a circle on her own. Her students have varying degrees of success.

Angie skips over. Hoshi just drew one, thick line. Harukawa tried to imitate what Angie had done, lines sketchy like hers, but she had ended up with an oval. Ouma’s is also an oval, but it’s a weird combination of sketchy lines, followed by one continuous line, as if he gave up halfway through.

“Mmmm,” Angie groans. She flips Hoshi’s paper over, and takes it in front of her.

“It’s best if you sketch in quick, thin strokes.” With this, she draws a circle again, occasionally taking out an eraser to get rid of the excess lines. “Like Angie said earlier, H pencils are easy to erase! Ryouma can use Angie’s example, but she wants Kokichi and Maki to try again!”

The two do as told, with better results. Angie has to guide Ouma’s hand for a bit, but he seems to get it after a while. Harukawa’s is nearly a perfect circle.

“Good job! Next, you’re going to need your 8B pencil, since we’ll be putting in the darkest shades.”

Angie wheels her easel over so that the others can see her easier. They all give her an expectant stare.

“When you’re drawing, you need a light source!” the artist declares, taking her own 8B pencil. In the corner of her paper, she draws an arrow. “Angie will pretend a spotlight is shining on her circle from this direction. You can put an arrow down if it helps!”

All three do, and then look back at her.

“Now, with the 8B, put a dark crescent shape in the corner of the sphere,” she says, showing them as she speaks. She presses hard with the pencil, hoping they do the same. They all try to, again with varying degrees of success.

“Now, get a pencil that’s a little bit lighter, and start fading out the top of the crescent! When you’re done, you should just have a little sliver below the crescent, and you shouldn’t be able to tell where you outlined the crescent. Remember to lighten your pressure as you get towards the spot where the light hits!”

The three students went to work, doing their best to shade their spheres per the artist’s instructions. Hoshi seemed to have a bit of trouble pressing lighter without loosening his grip, Ouma would go over spots so much that they became dark, and Harukawa was patchy in places. But it looked like they were trying their hardest, so Angie smiled proudly.

“Now fuzz out the bottom edge of the crescent! One, two! One, two!”

With determined eyes and pencils in hand, all three again went to work, a little bit better than last time. Each finished by releasing their pencil against the table, listening to the faint clatter as the pencil bounced against it.

Angie peered at their drawings, dancing between them.

“Nyahahaha! Divine work, guys! Angie’s gonna teach you all one last thing before ending class!”

Skipping back to the easel, the artist pulled out a tiny stub of wrapped paper, dirtied from lots of use. On the side, “TORTILLION” was written.

“You guys should have a few of these in your box! They’re tortileenies!”

“It says tortillion,” Hoshi scoffed, examining one in his hands.

“Mmm, whatever! They’re used for blending!”

“I’ll call it a blending stump, then,” the caretaker muttered, taking one in her hands.

Angie pouted. “Booooring.”

She was able to pick her face back up quickly.

“Anyway, like Angie said, tortileenies are used for shading! You use them on their side, and never on the tip, because that’ll ruin them!”

She showed her students the proper technique with her own drawing.

“You can go over any harsh parts with it to make it more fuzzy. Good luck!”

Scratchey scratch scratch.

All three diligently and wordlessly worked on their spheres. It seemed all of them were concentrating quite hard, doing their best to imitate the artist.

After a long period of this, Ouma let out an exhausted sigh, falling against the table. A few pencils rolled off and fell to the floor.

“I’m all arted out,” Ouma huffed, looking up at Angie. Harukawa politely began cleaning up, while Hoshi stared at his drawing, looking for some sort of way to make it better. He smudged it a bit more with his tortillion, before placing it down and closing his eyes. He put another stick of Pocky in his mouth.

“Well? Is that it, everyone?”

Harukawa nodded.

“Be sure to sign your name and date in the corner! Angie’s keeping these~”

Despite expecting complaints, none were given. Each signed the corner of their paper and dated it. Ouma left, hands behind his head. “Bye, Yonaga-chan!~” Hoshi left not long after, without a word. Harukawa did the same, but gave the artist a backhanded wave before exiting.

Angie took the three pieces in her hands before hugging them against her chest. They smudged a little, but compared to the graphite on her right palm, this was nothing.

The artist merrily skipped to the whiteboard, putting all three drawings next to each other. Hands on her hips, she gazed at them with pride.

Pushing in their stools, Angie smiled.

“Angie loves her classmates!”

#ndrv3 #fanmade #ndrv3 fanmade #meghan's fics #fanfic #angie yonaga #maki harukawa #tsumugi shirogane #himiko yumeno #kiibo #ryouma hoshi #kokichi ouma #tenko chabashira #HOPE YOU ENJOY DEV!

68 notes · View notes