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ginkgomoon · 3 years

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Victor’s Aura- A Character Aura Study

This post is my take on Victor’s aura, taken from my knowledge and intuition to depict what kind of aura he has! I did one on Gavin, as well as Gavin’s astrological birth chart so if you haven’t seen them, you can read them after this post!

What is an Aura? “Aura” by the dictionary is “the distinctive atmosphere or quality that seems to surround and be generated by a person, thing, or place”.

It’s essentially the electromagnetic energy field that surrounds all living things. It’s the magnetic field of vibration like how a lighted candle is lit and how a scent or perfume surrounds a flower. In fact, it’s correctly described as an extension of the body. It’s a part of every cell. Your aura can be affected by anything, including traumas, memories and emotions. It can tell us a lot about a person’s mental, physical, emotional state, vitality and path of life. Habitual thoughts, emotions and even illnesses can be clearly revealed. If a person changes their long standing thoughts and emotions, the aura will too reflect that.

Victor’s Aura There are many layers to the aura but let’s start off with the “ground” colour. This is the main colour that dominates the aura both in size and intensity. It’s arguably the most important colour as it shows what the person should be doing in their life.

Victor’s main ground colour is dark yellow (keep in mind this is not defined as “murky”- when someone is lost and muddled in their life). People with dark yellow as their ground are confident, well adjusted and analytical. As a result, they take life one step at a time, one goal at a time, ensuring every project is seen through properly to completion to avoid problems and setbacks later. They are patient people, setting their worthwhile goals in no hurry to reach them, as they know without a doubt that they will obtain their deserved reward in the end. They prefer to do things rationally and in a logical manner, especially at work where they are required to make use of their good memory and love for detail. As they are ambitious and persistent, they often take up roles of leadership, responsibility and of importance. From his corrections on MC’s reports to the food he makes at Souvenir (that is insisted to be cooked according to certain temperatures), Victor is no doubt a detail-oriented leader even whether if the goal he wants to achieve is related to work or not.

MC: It’s a sort of mark that can be left in literature or in a photograph… and I can feel it. Victor’s eyes are lowered. In his clear and tranquil eyes, there are ripples of light and shadows. Victor: Such as? The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth is clear, and I ponder this seriously. MC: For example, the way I write proposals has changed. The format of my proposals has changed. The indent of the first line, font size 15, 1.5 spacing between lines… it’s the format you find most pleasing to the eye! Victor’s eyebrow quirks. Victor: That’s all? MC: There’s more! I’ve become so much more picky with food. I never used to complain that food tastes bad, but eating at Souvenir has cultivated my palate. Now, when I eat even Michelin meals, I feel as if something’s lacking… -CN Exhibition Date

“What happened with SE is just an example. We’re from different businesses and different fields. There’s no need to compare yourself with me. Also, I’m older than you. When you’ve reached my age, you might attain the achievements I have today.” -CN Night Meeting Date

“Slow and steady wins the race” is the moral that they live by, but sometimes adhering to this credo may frustrate others as they can be so analytical and detail oriented at times- usually at great lengths. A cute little add from the Tender Regards Date around the concept of snail mail, time (Victor’s evol!) and the goal of always reaching your destination in the end demonstrate this this motif in Victor’s relationship with MC.

“Looks like you should have received this Future Mail. Apart from supporting your event, I’m only going to do this once. This will not be repeated. The things I want to say to you are all in this videotape. It only belongs to you.” -CN Tender Regards Date

“When will you finally understand? It’s all right. I’m patient. I’ll wait for you to see the light slowly.” -Rooftop Date

Although they have feelings, they only ever reveal it to people close to them. They enjoy the detail and technicality of conversations and find it hard to talk about their emotions. Victor’s Exhibition and Tender Regards Date are very useful sources of information in relation to these topics, as it displays Victor’s deep emotions of affection to MC and highlights the importance of expressing emotions to those you love. Dark yellow aura peoples’ greatest lesson in life is to be more emotionally open, and when do they do, it usually occurs later in life.

“The writer wrote it down herself - “The time I spent loving someone, not a single second of it was wasted.” I rarely hear such words leave Victor’s mouth, and it makes me feel a little surreal. In my memory, we very rarely talk about the topic of ‘love’. Maybe it’s because he rarely says what’s in his heart. Maybe it’s because I’m used to being thick-skinned. We never have the opportunity to seriously understand the meaning in these words. -CN Exhibition Date

“Do you still remember the special episode on “Feelings” from before? Actually, this theme was inspired by that episode. Giving gifts is a common way to express how one feels. But it’s not that easy to send a gift to the future. With Future Mail, the sender can convey their feelings and surprises in this gift to the other party across time.” -CN Tender Regards date

People with dark yellow as their ground enjoy system and order such as routines at work and in their home life. This is applied to Victor’s strict schedules in his day to day life, such as taking on what time he sleeps and when he gets up to go on his morning jogs. They need to consider new ideas before grudgingly accepting them. This is especially applied to when Victor always says “just this once” to MC when he’s being “childish” with her (but we really know that isn’t the case, he knows this all too well, too).

“Because a certain greedy cat always says she wants to eat something sweet after dinner, I made pudding before leaving the house. Do you think this is a mark of how I’ve been changed?” -CN Exhibition Date

Next is Victor’s “radiating” colour. This represents his interests and motivations. It adds strength to the ground colour. They can work well in harmony, some can conflict.

I would take Victor’s radiating as violet. Violet is a very highly spiritual colour, as people with this colour as their radiating will have a very spiritual take on life, as they are deep thinkers who like to analyse everything and think matters though logically. They are also naturally intuitive. Violet radiatings have the ability to come up with unique and unusual solutions to problems. As they enjoy learning, they have the potential to become experts in their field of endeavour- which is no surprise for Victor as he’s basically an “on top of the world tyrant” in the industry of finances. In addition, they feel things deeply, but rather operate things on an emotionally free level- again with the ground aura traits to enhance this! However, Victor too, has a high EQ despite this.

“I’m no different from you. There are many things I cannot do or force to make happen. It’s okay to not be strong, it’s okay to not do well. You don’t have to bottle up your emotions.” … “I won’t tell you to keep holding on no matter what difficulties you face. That isn’t realistic. There will come a time when you will become an even better version of yourself who will have enough courage and experience to deal with all of this.” -CN Colours of Rain Date

Overall, Victor’s aura of darker yellow and violet depict him as more of a straightforward kind of person, hardworking and articulate, however soon we realise there’s more to what we see of Victor, like how MC thinks that Victor comes off as a “heartless CEO” throughout the main story chapters but he slowly warms up to her whilst determining to prove her wrong. Victor is wise, and doesn’t bother to put in his personal efforts to where it’s not needed, but when it’s up to him- he strives to go all the way for perfection and with the best of his ability. He spends a lot of time in deep contemplation to determine his plans of attack which allows him to execute them well. His values and worth ethics will always in the end allow him to make time for MC, no matter how busy he is :)

And lastly…

Victor leans against the window, his face still written with distaste, but he does not attempt to remove that childish-looking blanket. He brings the red cup to his lips and gently blows on it. The warm light encases him, softening the aura surrounding him. His outline also appears gentler. He doesn’t look as impossible to get close to. My eyes land on Victor, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He puts down the cup in his hands, lowering his eyes, as though deep in thought. This is a Victor I have never seen before… In this moment, he seems to have put down his stubbornness and distant aura - becoming someone within reach. Only now does Victor finally feel my gaze. He raises his head to look at me. -CN Warm Date

All of a sudden, he lifts his other hand gently. A water droplet pelts onto his palm, as though pulling him into the pattering rain. Seeing this, I find myself subconsciously frozen in place. Because of the enshrouding misty rain, the Victor before me appears warmer and more tender than usual. -CN Tender Regards Date

It always has and always will be MC to see this side of him- the tenderness and the willingness of how he opens up to her- his aura willingly to embrace hers too. Fun fact- auras can deflect off one another if you’re with someone you dislike. But when it’s with two people in love, their auras connect, combine and produce an even brighter and bigger accommodating aura for the both of them. He’s certainly living working towards to achieve his greatest life goals- both in his businesses and being with MC, striving together to make great changes and milestones in their respective industries. Without a doubt, she has helped Victor’s aura grow, expand and shine the many rays through his doubts, allowing a light from within to burn brighter and evolve him into more of the brilliant, hardworking and tender man we know today.

#victor #li zeyan #mlqc translation #mlqc analysis #mlqc victor #恋与制作人 #mr love queens choice #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc en #aura reading #aura

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daresplaining · 4 years

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A Few Thoughts About the Current Run

I feel like I ought to say a few things about my feelings on Zdarsky’s run, as of right now (August 2020, pre-Annual-- that may be important). I haven’t said much about this run, and I should admit that I actually stopped reading it for a while. At a certain point, I realized I was dreading the release of each preview, and took that as a sign that maybe I should take a break and just re-read some back issues instead. This is, above all, supposed to be fun; I never, ever want reading DD to feel like a chore.

That said, I am now caught up and feel ready to begin untangling exactly why this run is so distasteful to me. I’ve been fortunate to have other DD fans to chat with about this, which has helped me to pinpoint what my problems are... because on paper, this run seems like something I’d enjoy. Matt accidentally kills a guy; that’s always fun. Marco Checchetto is great. The story explores Daredevil’s relationship with the citizens of Hell’s Kitchen, which I love. Foggy helps Matt with an action-y Daredevil thing; that’s awesome. There are some very cool fights. Elektra is in it. Stilt-Man is (briefly) in it. It has all the trappings of an interesting narrative. But there is a giant hole in the middle of this run, and that hole is Matt Murdock-shaped and impossible to ignore.

I read Daredevil comics for a lot of things (anyone who’s been following me for the past few years might think I read Daredevil comics for Mike Murdock, and you may have a point there) but first and foremost, I read them for Matt. There is a lot that makes a good DD story great-- historically, the comic has featured great supporting casts, and that’s another problem with this run that I’ll get back to in a minute-- but Matt is always the anchor. One of the greatest strengths in Daredevil comes from the fact that the protagonist is such a compelling character. You are interested in what he’s doing. You want to follow his story. You enjoy being inside his head. I’m not saying that you can’t write a good Matt-free Daredevil story-- you definitely can. But if Matt is present and written poorly, the whole story will collapse around him, and that’s been my experience with Zdarsky’s run. Part of the reason I’ve taken so long to write this post is because I’ve been trying to figure out if my complaint comes from my own personal taste-- which is not a basis on which I can critique this comic-- or whether the problem is inherent in the work itself. Having discussed it with other people, I feel comfortable saying that I think the problem is in the writing.

Zdarsky’s Matt feels profoundly unfamiliar to me, and that in itself isn’t necessarily a problem, but I don’t find this new version of my favorite superhero interesting. I actually find him a little repellant. If this run had been my introduction to Daredevil, I would’ve said “Nope” and read something else. Matt is a character with depth. He is intensely multifaceted. His relationship to superheroing is complicated, his views on justice and morality are rich and often contradictory. Zdarsky somehow missed all of that and has crafted a one-dimensional character with a blatantly black-and-white sense of morality. Matt’s reaction to accidentally killing someone seems to be to decide that all superheroes are bad-- something I complained about at the beginning of the run and which, unfortunately, only grew more annoying as the story progressed. Zdarsky’s Matt is painfully self-righteous, to a degree that makes him extremely unlikeable (at least to me). And yes, Matt has been written as unlikeable before. I actually love when Matt behaves badly; I find that fascinating from a narrative perspective. But I’ve realized that the key reason that has been effective in the past is because the story has never condoned that behavior. When Matt was emotionally abusive toward Heather Glenn, Frank Miller went out of his way to show us-- via the side characters, via blatant expressions of Heather’s pain-- that Matt was in the wrong. When Matt was a jerk in Bendis’ and Brubaker’s runs, when he drove his friends away, when he acted irrationally and harmfully, the narrative commented on that jerkiness and irrationality.

But Zdarsky does not do that in his run. He presents Matt’s irrational and jerkish behavior without comment or nuance, as if it’s a perfectly normal, reasonable way for Matt to act under the circumstances, and I have been surprised to realize how distasteful I find that, and how bad it makes Matt look. There’s a difference between having a character who is comfortably flawed-- whose behavior you’re supposed to occasionally question-- and a character who is just unpleasant and unlikeable, seemingly by accident. In the most recent issue (#21), Matt has an extremely upsetting interaction with Spider-Man, one of his oldest friends, and Matt is positioned as heroic for behaving this way, and it made me feel a little ill, because there’s no textual examination or questioning of this behavior. It’s just Matt, pushing people away, being Angsty(TM) and Gritty(TM) and lone wolf-y just because, in a way that is grating and unpleasant and completely lacks nuance.

The other major element of Zdarsky’s characterization of Matt is religion. I’ve mentioned before (as have other DD fans before me) that Matt is not generally written as religious, and it’s a strange phenomenon that this characterization has appeared in multiple adaptations (the movie and the Netflix show) while having very little actual presence in the source material. But it was a key theme in the Netflix show, and while hopefully that influence will disappear from the comics as more time passes, we are still in a honeymoon phase wherein MCU elements are still popping up in the 616 universe. It’s clear that Zdarsky really liked the show, and Soule as well; I’m certainly not letting Soule off the hook here, because the idea of Matt being devoutly Christian showed up his run first. But there, you could get away from it if it wasn’t your thing (which, for me, it’s not). Soule had whole story arcs that didn’t mention it. But Zdarsky has made it 75% of Matt’s personality. When he isn’t fighting or sleeping with someone in this run, Matt is angsting about God.

I hesitate to complain about this because it’s Zdarsky’s right as a DD writer to change the protagonist however he likes. It’s frustrating, yes, but not actually a sign of bad writing per se. Plus, not everyone is me. Many people-- probably including many people who were fans of the Netflix show and are entering the comics via that connection (which seems to be the target audience for this run)-- may be religious and may connect to MCU/Zdarsky Matt in that way. And that’s wonderful. I want to be very clear: it’s not the religiousness itself that I’m complaining about. My complaint is this: if you’re going to drastically alter a character, you need to back it up. You need to dig into it, make that new personality element feel powerful and real, and integrate it into the character’s pre-existing personality. And if you’re going to base the entirety of that character’s emotional journey on that new trait, you need to work to make sure it’s accessible to your readership. I, as a non-religious person, have no sense of why Matt is so upset about God. I have no frame of reference for his pain, either from my own experiences or from previous Daredevil continuity, and Zdarsky does nothing to develop or explore the basis of Matt’s faith, and so it all just falls flat. I feel alienated by this run. I see an angsty, self-righteous, prickly jerk ranting about needing to do God’s will, and then I put the issue down and read some She-Hulk instead. If Zdarsky (or Soule-- again, he could have done this too) had made an effort to actually explore and explain Matt’s feelings about his religion, rather than lazily shoving that characterization in there and assuming readers will just accept it, it wouldn’t bother me nearly as much as it has.

Also, I feel I have to mention; this is a fantasy universe. Matt went to Hell and yelled at Mephisto in Nocenti’s run, and it was awesome. Maybe this is just me, but if you’re going to bring in religion, at least have some fun with it! Bookend Nocenti’s run: Matt goes to Heaven, runs into God, and she gives him some free therapy and a souvenir t-shirt (or, I don’t know, something). To give Zdarsky credit, he did at least hint at that sort of thing in Matt’s conversation with Reed Richards in #9.

I'm going to cut this post short, because I really don’t enjoy writing negative reviews. I’d much rather post about things I love, and over the next few weeks I do plan to highlight aspects of this run that I’ve enjoyed. But I’ll end by saying that the weaknesses in Matt’s characterization could have been mitigated by a great supporting cast. Having prominent secondary protagonists would have provided outside perspectives on Matt’s behavior and given the reader other characters to root for when he got too out-of-hand. They would have drawn out the human elements in Matt’s character and helped give him that nuance he so desperately needs. But this run, just like Soule’s before it, is woefully underpopulated. Foggy’s presence is extremely weak and his appearances far too infrequent. Apart from brief cameos in MacKay’s Man Without Fear mini, Kirsten McDuffie and Sam Chung have both vanished, and I’m worried that Kirsten might have joined Milla Donovan in the limbo of still-living-but-permanently-benched ex-love interests. The women in this run are all either villains or people for Matt to sleep with (I was pumped about Elektra’s return and the idea of her training Matt, but her characterization was disappointing (I may write a separate post about this), and Mindy Libris could have been really compelling as a moral person trying to survive life in a crime family, but instead she was just a one-note, underdeveloped victim for Matt to lust after). To Zdarsky’s credit, he has clearly been trying to give the Kingpin a humanizing story arc, but even that I haven’t found compelling enough to want to keep reading (though that could just be me). Cole North was intriguing at first, but he ended up feeling more like a concept than an actual person. And none of these characters engage with Matt on a human, emotional level, which is what a good supporting cast needs to do. I commented early-on that this run felt like all flash and no bang (Is that a term? It is now.) and I think I still stand by that-- it’s all bombastic plot concepts and big ideas without any of the actual development or nuance necessary to make them work. There is nothing in this run that has pulled me in and held my interest; in the absence of a Matt I can connect to, I need something, and so far I haven’t found it.

I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point. This run was nominated for an Eisner for best ongoing series, so apparently someone likes it, but it has become clear that-- so far, anyway-- it’s just not right for me.

#Daredevil vol. 6 #Daredevil #Commentary #This is very negative. I'm sorry. Feel free to ignore it.

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lucarioisinthevoid · 3 years

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hello good sir (sir being a gender neutral term), i'd like to send some p r o m p t s. so i haven't played ucn in a LONG time, but some ideas off the top of my head: toy freddy (would be funny), funtime foxy (cause they're a bitch), n. fredbear and maybe nightmare (cause they're twisted versions of his b e l o v e d fredbear), and maybe foxy+bonnie (cause it's a bitch). just some ideas! also, being a man of culture, i'd like to request some tortu- jk, jk (i'd say sth funny but character limit).

(I will fight you for this ask. I will come to you home and pick you up and fling your body into space and into literal Among Us. My brain was going a mile a minute trying to gather enough coins to get rid of Funtime Foxy, and keep on top of EVERYTHING ELSE- And yet I was still surprised when I finally got jumpscared. Welp, I couldn’t have predicted it, so it’s kinda fun being able to write this now. Also yes, warning for mild torment! I’m just not good at writing it- Oh, also, here’s the AO3 link to the thing: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687695/chapters/67764007 You can read the whole thing there and I update it there as I do here. You can request over there to, but that’s beside the point)

Be on top of his games. Watch his shows. Check in, but only at the right times. Henry grinded his teeth. It was almost like he had a son again- dear god, this truly was hell, wasn’t it? For a moment he had thought the Helpy robot was joking as he elaborated on what the damn plastic piece of shit’s mechanic was- No. No cursing. He shook his head. That was being petty for no reason. He had a mechanic- and it was a stupid one- but that was better than nothing. It was better than being told “you will die” without being able to do anything about it. For a moment he frowned, a though manifesting itself in the back of his mind. … if he would know there was no way to escape the pain, he would grow numb to it. So whoever or whatever set this up seemed to have a keen interest in- The clock chimed, it was time to play. Instantly he pulled up the monitor. He had been gifted the leeway of being allowed to eradicate one of them- and dear god, he would not say no, not if it was the only chance to give a little bit of payback. He checked on Toy Freddy- a good contender to be murdered- and clicked the door of the- vacuum cleaner- dear god, this would make his brain rot- then he moved on to more sensible things, like checking on Foxy, who was thankfully out, then moving over to gathering coins. Laughter from the door. “Mister Miller… look at you. You seem stressed.” “Why yes, I am quite tense.” Without looking up he closed the doors, opening them up right away. “I have to admit to my distain of the character selection that currently is coming after me. They make no sense, you see?” Another, similarly as deep voice sounded, albeit with a brighter tint to it- “… oh, don’t be ashamed of that, Mr. Miller. They have more distain for you than you do for them.” Once more, doors closed, doors open. He didn’t even need to look. “I can assume that, yes, but that is hardly my issue, is it now? My issue is their reality bending and tedious habits.” For this round he would be stuck on the cameras, wouldn’t he? Once more he flipped over to Foxy, gathering coins and being quietly thankful for the fact that he and Bonnie had not switched places yet. He had to get this done in the first time-warped hour and if he didn’t- he wasn’t sure when exactly the clock would move over and he didn’t want to find out. The nightmare duo was chuckling, so he shortly put the monitor down to look inside of Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes. “… what are you supposed to be?” “You have never truly understood your own creation, did you…? If it lives… it changes…” “The only nightmare I ever created were the suits and-“ He turned to the other side, spotting the more pinkish eyes shining from that frame. “… you. Are you not supposed to be me?” “I think you can answer that yourself.” Shaking his head, Henry dismissed both of them, closing the doors and opening the camera feed, checking once more on Foxy, helping out Toy Freddy and finally snatching up the last few coins he needed- instantly he moved over to the price corner, ordering one of the silver coins- His eyes darted to the clock- Oh god, only a few more moments before the timer skipped- The pink hellfox was peering out of its cove, grinning widely- a grin that instantly was replaced by an agonized and hateful scream as Henry used the coin, allowing himself for a moment to watch the machine literally being disintegrated into clear silver dust. From the side, Nightmare Fredbear chuckled. “… how cruel.” “This is a dog-eat-dog world. You should not try to inflict onto others what you are not willing to go through yourself.” “Oh? Are you ready for what is coming for you then?” Abruptly Henry started laughing, as he once more checked on Foxy, then moved to Toy Freddy. “What? What is coming for me? Being brought back to Fredbear’s, except this time I am immortal, have inhuman strength and can start honing my ability to move whatever I desire with my mind? What a terrible fate you are threatening me with, Nightmare! I am appalled! How dare you gift me with everything I have ever wanted!” One last time he switched back to Foxy, then deactivated the monitors, assuming it was best to be on Foxy’s camera right away, so when he pulled the camera back up- His eyes fell on the little figure of Bonnie that was now on the table. For the love of god, how could he have been that stupid!? Looking up at Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes, he saw a bit of bemusement in it- that and a deep, underlaying level of pure disgust. “… will you ever learn, Mr. Miller? Will you ever realize that the resistance you have been met with was not from nowhere? Will you learn that you cursed them?” “NONSENSE.” Henry HISSED. “I considered you smart. I was wrong. The only reason the children were struggling against me because I could not yet accommodate them well enough- propaganda against me and my mission was spread. William seemed to have been just fine with his joke of a family that he had gotten himself in a flight of passing fancy. What made him different?!” There was only silence from the outside, as Henry glanced once more at the figure. Still Bonnie and it wouldn’t change. Muttering more so to himself than to the Fredbear, he stressed his point. “Nature has turned on me for taking what I desired, much like the ocean, the skies and the land has turned against humanity at every opportunity. Even in the different religious texts, humanity and to steal and take with violence what it needed to become what it was meant to be. One god banished the species in fear of them becoming immortal, much like the being itself- another wanted to deny us fire as petty retaliation, because fire brings creation- and it had to be taken back by theft.” Not quite, but close enough. He didn’t want to recount the stories. “… if you want to grow, you have to feed, and if you feed, you destroy. And so, destruction brings new creation. We feed off the old gods and create new rules. Nature does not like to be controlled and abused- all it wishes is to slowly burn itself out. Until nothing is left. But we humans preserve- we are a species who is so defenseless, yet have made it this far, by preserving knowledge, by learning early, early and as much as we can- eventually however it will come to a standstill. You can only learn so much with the time given. Until said time become infinite. Some ills of humanity can only be cured by allowing humans to permanently remain and learn. For that we need immortality.” There still was only silence and he sighed- He had wasted too much time. The Bonnie figure was still there, but he might as well get it over with, he wouldn’t get around him disabling the cameras. Quickly he closed the door to the left side where he knew Nightmare Fredbear was waiting, pulling up the cameras, to Bonnie’s aggressive scream- But before he could really boot the thing up, a giant black paw came from above grabbing the little tablet, cracking it. The Amalgamation was towering over him, black fur and metal broken up by the silver shine of its teeth. Baffled for a few seconds, Henry looked at him. “I… did not hear you.” “The others are not your problem anymore, are they now?” With its vile grin it picked Henry up by the head, an incredibly painful experience, playfully throwing him against the wall with full force- a crack was sounded and as Henry tried to stumble back on his feet, he quickly realized he couldn’t- something was damaged, so badly that the pain was too much- His head was still sharp though, the white pain barely being fended off by his mind trying to figure out how this creature could be HERE- It had been HIM, it was HIM, what would make him want to- Blood was dripping from out his mouth, tasting disgustingly mechanical- “… you… you are supposed to be ME-“ Smiling the monstrous bear-esque beast picked him up, causing another wave of incoherent, glowing pain to wash through Henry, his whole chest being just enough to fill the Amalgamation’s hand. “I was you. We have seen all your thoughts, all your ideas, we have shaped, and we have remembered. You are me. And we crave violence, Mister Miller. Your words were pretty to hear, but we do not believe them. We know what we are- a monster who thinks of itself too highly, an animal unable to resist the siren call of violence and blood. Our creation has not made us better than all the monsters we feared becoming. There is only one difference between us… … I am not ashamed of my needs anymore.” With that he started pulling on Henry’s arm, pulling as the delirious man convulsed under him- Ready to take a bite out of it. “But I do love creation too… and I cannot wait to see what we will turn you into. The brain is moldable, Henry. It does fantastical things under pain and pressure…” His other claw was digging into the human’s head. The other was pulling the now separated arm to his maw, biting down with a sickening, wet crunch. Happily he sighed. The few seconds of Henry’s awareness that were left only wondered quietly if his parts being consumed would mean he would never get them back- The Amalgamation seemed to hear the thought, grinning at him with its now stained teeth. “I will vomit you back… to relieve your horror…” … with that Henry faded.

#henry miller #Henry in hell #oh also if you wonder that last thing is the real quote #not relive it IS relieve and it's so weird

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deathgatesideblog · 4 years

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I Use Too Many Words to Say Absolutely Nothing About Hanahaki AUs

So I just had this thought (these thoughts?) and it’s all very unrefined and stream-of-consciousness but

TL;DR: I think Hanahaki AUs are dumb. But I keep trying to find ways to make them interesting because that feels like something I should be able to do, right??? And then I try to do that for a while. And realize that no, despite all my efforts, I still think Hanahaki AUs are dumb and not very interesting.

Okay so I’ve never really liked Hanahaki AUs, because 90% of them are like “you pine, you get sick, you angst, you nearly die, surprise your feelings are requited and you get better” and that’s just not a compelling story to me necessarily, and it’s hard to figure out how you WOULD make a compelling story out of it. But because it’s hard to figure out I have spent a nonzero amount of time thinking about how you could make something compelling out of it? Like, I think the biggest strength of the Hanahaki AU is in making Good Angst Moments. The catharsis can be kinda cheap, but the angst moments are good. I dunno if there’s any way to actually make Hanahaki AU satisfying overall but idk here’s what I’ve thought about it in a Death Gate context:

(So firstly, I think you’ve got to eliminate the part of Hanahaki that makes you die, because Hanahaki is a metaphor for the pain of unrequited love and the urgency of near death takes some of the complexity out of the already interesting situation of having a difficult time being in love and having to deal with that. So. Hanahaki is now more like a chronic illness that occurs when you love someone and feel guilty about that love-- instead of having it be strictly unrequited love, because again, Hanahaki is a metaphor for the PAIN of unrequited love, not, I think, unrequited love itself.)

I mean, Patryns are a whole race of people whose culture is both very loving and very in-denial about it, so I can easily imagine that kind of Hanahaki being abundant, possibly even to the point of death in some cases, even if not all Hanahaki is lethal in this version of things. Patryns falling in love and finding themselves tormented by the knowledge that they’re not supposed to care about another person so deeply, or that the Labyrinth is unforgiving and they’ll only be hurt by this, and then starting to choke up flowers on top of it?

More specifically, Marit leaving Haplo because she’s started coughing up petals and knows what that means, only for Haplo to wake up alone the next day with a petal in his mouth and swallow it without opening his mouth to look at it. I mean, that really doesn’t add much to the already-existing story about Love Is Difficult, Man, but y’know, Hanahaki isn’t supposed to add much more than an illustration of Love Being Difficult, Man, so I think it’s semi-valid.

And here’s the thought that actually made me sit down and write this post-- what about Alfred having Hanahaki on and off throughout his life? The guy strikes me as both a person who falls in love pretty easily and also as someone who feels guilty about it, so. You know. Just constant mild cases of Hanahaki. When he first realizes he has feelings for Lya, and he thinks that’s normal enough-- he starts coughing up flowers, and then stops when he finds out his feelings are mutual, la dee da that’s pretty standard for Sartan. But then maybe he’s in disguise as a chamberlain and there are mensch, sometimes, who are nice to him or express interest in him and of course he turns them down because, I mean, they’re mensch, but then there are petals again and he feels guilty about the petals and what they mean, so they keep showing up until he closes off contact with whoever’s triggering the disease and the symptoms are manageable again, but it’s hard to make friends that way, so Alfred’s still miserable either way.

Oh, and then there’s Orla. Can you fucking imagine Samah’s face seeing Alfred vomit up a flower and they both know exactly what that’s about? Can you imagine his face when Orla tries and fails to hide the petals in her clenched fists? (Again, I really do think the main strength of Hanahaki is just in enhancing the Angst that already exists in the text of a story about feeling guilty about love.)

And of course it starts up again when Alfred feels what he feels for Haplo. But what I think is potentially interesting about that is what if the symptoms don’t ease even after the feelings are requited? If the disease is based on being guilty or uncomfortable with one’s feelings, there’s really no reason reciprocation should stop the symptoms. And I imagine there could still be a lot of shame to work through there, especially in my headcanons where Sartan society is homophobic af and Alfred has both normal angst about Haplo/Marit existing and also internalized homophobia, etc, that doesn’t go away even knowing that his feelings are reciprocated, because that was never the only source of the shame.

And what would it be like to be Haplo or Marit in that case? I mean, they know what it’s like to feel shame for feeling love, but I don’t think either of them would be suffering from it post-canon. I guess the Hanahaki is still just an illustration of a mental condition-- in this case a physical representation of internalized shame. Mild symptoms, maybe, but still there, and still hard to watch a partner suffer through when there is, in theory, no reason for them to still be pained by these things. Alfred assuring them both that this is just something that he’s used to, that it doesn’t really go away and that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong, even though they both know it as a potentially life-threatening disease. There is something interesting about a situation like that, maybe?

But again, the problem with this version of Hanahaki is still that I don’t think it can ever be “cured” in a way that gives a compelling narrative-- at least, not in a single moment of catharsis. Because either way, Hanahaki is a representation of an internal pain. And in this case, where Hanahaki isn’t about unrequited feelings, but instead about guilt and shame, it isn’t satisfying if someone else simply “cures” it, because that’s not really how internal pain works. More likely, in the case I described for Alfred, he would experience mild symptoms for a long time, and maybe eventually the petals would come less frequently, but there would never be a single moment of catharsis, I don’t think, where he’s just cured of it.

But again ALL OF THIS JUST PROVES THAT HANAHAKI AUS ARE STUPID because I didn’t need a stupid flower disease to think about a story that was ultimately just about the guilt and shame that can come with love, I could have just written THAT story instead, all the Hanahaki part does is be a physical representation of that, and I don’t know WHY that doesn’t work for me? Soulmate AUs are basically the same thing but I find those interesting!!! What’s the difference??? I don’t know! I guess that’s why the Hanahaki diseases are usually lethal? So that you add an element of life-or-death stakes to an ordinary unrequited love story? But AGAIN that just makes every Hanahaki AU the SAME ugh

#this is only BARELY death gate related #but there is some content there i guess #shipping #i mean it's a discussion of hanahaki disease

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princesstreaclefanfic · 5 years

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Chapter Twenty Eight

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Bella

"What's a draugr?" Rose asked, voicing the question we were all thinking.

"Reanimated corpses with similar abilities as in life." I could feel the confusion in the room. "They're dead bodies that have basically come back to life - like vampires except they're not living at all. They don't think and they don't feel. They're the real-life version of zombies." I saw Emmett's large frame tense. "They possess superhuman strength, can increase their size at will and they have magical abilities like witches."

"So she's a witch that's come back to life."

"Not exactly," Carlisle chipped in. "Draugr are dead bodies that wander around. They are motivated by anger, revenge or greed. They can't be harmed and killing them is difficult."

Carmen looked pained.

"Why would she come back?" Nessie questioned and Emmett shrugged his shoulders.

"Draugr were a thing of myth when I was a boy. I've only ever heard stories of them - never encountered one before. I knew of a tribe that dealt with one before but that's it. What Tyler described he saw and what's been going on with the bar and Jake made me think she was one." Even though I couldn't read his mind I had a feeling it was whirring. "Draugr can cause illness and disease where they live and they can cause wild animals to go mad; both things have happened since Tyler first saw her." I thought that Maria was a problem as a witch, turns out she might be more of a problem as a draugr. "They invade the dreams of people and can send them mad." I felt a physical chill go up my spine. "They're dangerous - very dangerous."

"How do we destroy her?" Jasper asked in a dark voice.

"Behead her, burn the body and then dump the ashes into the sea."

"You can't!" Carmen cried. She stood up and her eyes were frantic. "It's disrespectful. Maria ended her own life and-"

"That thing that Tyler saw wasn't Maria," Emmett tried to reason. "It was a reanimated corpse-"

"Stop saying that! Maria isn't a corpse!" With a tearful cry, Carmen ran from the room.

"Carmen!" Esme shouted. She passed Ethan over to Carlisle and went after her.

"Corpse - really Emmett?" Rose asked.

"What?" He shrugged his shoulders.

"You could have used a better term."

"It is what she is!" He defended.

"Carmen had a lot of respect for Maria," Edward tried to explain to his brother. "It's always going to be difficult for her to see her as a bad person, especially after she killed herself."

"Mama gone?" Ethan's voice chimed breaking up the atmosphere as he looked around the room for Esme. His large brown eyes looking around the room before they landed back on Carlisle.

"She'll be back soon, little man," he soothed, one hand rubbing his back and the other lightly patting his diaper-clad butt. Ethan rested his head on Carlisle's shoulder and one of his hands grasped Carlisle's shirt tightly.

We all waited in silence for Esme to come back in. I didn't know if Carmen would be with her but I knew we needed all the help we could get. Draugr's seemed like serious business.

It didn't take long and to my surprise, she came back with Carmen. Carmen stayed near the door as Esme walked across the room back to Carlisle and Ethan. She stood behind Carlisle, one hand on his shoulder as the other stroked Ethan's cheek.

Carmen blew out a breath before she began to speak. "For the longest time, Maria and I were very close. She taught me everything I know about majick. It's hard for me to think of her this evil… corpse. I want to help because I don't want anyone to get hurt." She turned her attention to Tyler. "I can teach you some spells to block her out, stop her appearing to you. They're not easy spells but I think you can do it."

Tyler nodded. "Anything to stop me from seeing her." Austin placed a hand on his back and rubbed gentle circles.

"Quick question," Jake began from his spot on the recliner. "If Tyler can't see her - how do we know where she is?"

A silence fell over the room.

"If we're going to…" his eyes flickered to Carmen before he continued, "…destroy her, surely we need to see her?"

Tyler's mind jumped to conclusions and he literally leapt from his seat. "I don't want to keep seeing her!"

"You might not have to," Carlisle's diplomatic voice said.

All eyes turned to him as we waited for him to further explain himself.

"Maria is appearing to Tyler for whatever reason - we'll probably never know. Maybe when she realises that he can't see her, she'll reveal herself to others. The more of us that can see her, the better chance we stand."

Emmett nodded his head at his maker from across the room.

Tyler still wasn't happy. I could see it in his face and hear it in his mind.

He was starting to dislike the fact he was a wicca.

***

Edward

He grasped the shovel in his hands and dug at the dirt below.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Jasper grunted, flinging some dirt behind him. "Aren't you supposed to be King? Don't you have lackeys who can do this?"

"I do - but how strange do you think it would sound asking vampires to dig up a corpse because there is a chance that it has become a mythical Norse creature?"

Jasper swore and grumbled some more.

"Shut up, Jas," Emmett told him. "It's not like you had anything better to do."

Jasper stood to his full height. "Actually, I had three better things to do: Brandi, Louisa and Cindy."

"You should be thanking us," Emmett began and from the smirk on his face, Edward had a feeling that whatever he said would be a taunt. "If you're with us you don't get the chance to disappoint them."

"I'll have you know I do not disappoint in the bedroom - I've been compared to a God," Jasper boasted proudly. Edward just rolled his eyes.

The three of them lapsed into silence as they continued to dig.

If Maria really was a draugr and not something else, her grave would be empty. She would have dug herself out and then replaced the Earth - part of an attempt to make sure that she wasn't found out.

"How easy are these things to kill, Emmett?" Edward asked.

"Depends; the longer the corpse is active the stronger it gets. The sooner we can kill her the better." He met his brother's eyes across the grave. "Draugr's are dangerous. They can take out entire villages in a few nights."

Edward realised then he might have underestimated just how powerful she was.

Jasper dug his shovel into the dirt and was met with a dull thud.

"Let's see what we can find," he murmured, throwing his shovel to the side as Edward and Emmett did the same.

Together, they worked to expose the coffin.

Edward sniffed the air and he realised that he already knew the answer to whether Maria was a draugr or not. There was no smell of death or decay. There was no body in this coffin.

He shared a look with Emmett as the opened the wooden box. It was empty.

"Now what?" Jasper asked.

"We put it back and we work out how to destroy her," Edward said, his mind thinking of what they could do. How exactly did you destroy something you couldn't see? There was no guarantee she would show herself to others, it was just a guess. And he doubted Tyler would willingly look for her. He was already starting to look a bit freaked out by everything going on around him.

***

As Edward took his watch off, he looked at Bella already in bed as she absentmindedly picked at the pillowcase.

"What are you thinking?"

She gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Nothing."

"Try again."

She looked down at the bed and then back at him. "I wonder when we're going to get a break. I wonder when things aren't going to want to hurt us or kill us. When we can just be."

Edward crawled onto the bed and pulled Bella into his chest. "I'm afraid that is part of being supernatural. There is always a danger." He fingered a curl and wrapped the strands around his finger. "But every time we stop something or someone from harming us; we're doing a good deed."

He felt her smile against his chest.

"I love you, Edward Masen."

"I love you more, Bella Swan."

He leaned down and kissed her, fully intent on pulling back and settling down for the night, but Bella had other ideas. She grasped the back of his head in her hands and pulled him down on top of her, deepening the kiss and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Their hips began to move together and Edward struggled to get the t-shirt and panties away from her body. In the end, he got so frustrated he ripped them, causing Bella to gasp and giggle as he nibbled down her body to her pussy.

Wasting no time, he used his tongue and fingers to bring her to her first climax, his fangs scraping the skin of her thigh when she screamed out in pleasure, her hands clenching the sheets.

Slowly, he made his way back up to her mouth, dragging his body up hers and stopping to lavish some love to the tight peaks that rested in the middle of her breasts. They seemed to strain and beg him mouth to take them - so he did. His tongue caressed the pebbled skin before he flicked it harshly, her hips bucking into his in response.

Edward kissed her once again and used one hand to support himself as the other grabbed his cock and placed it at her entrance.

When his tongue plundered into her mouth, his cock plundered into her pussy.

"Oh!" she cried. It was like music to her ears. He grinned against her lips and set a slow rhythm, holding her thigh against his hip to give him a deep angel that he knew would allow him to hit the perfect spot.

"It doesn't matter…" he panted out, "what is thrown our way… because we will always have this…" He emphasised his point with a particularly deep thrust.

"Yes!" Bella agreed, her fingernails digging into his back.

"I will always love you, Isabella Marie Swan." It was a promise.

Bella cried out in pleasure and arched her back high. Her nipples grazed Edward's chest and her pussy clenched around his cock.

"Uh!" Edward moaned. His cock felt like it was swelling and his balls felt tingly. He thrust deeply into her came hard, hips still pumping as he came down.

As they lay there, both of them coming down, Edward reflected back on what he said.

It really didn't matter what life threw at them; they would always have each other.

Bella not being part of life was no longer an option, he did a year without her and he might as well have been silvered and starved for all the pain it caused him. As Bella drifted to sleep, her eyes closing and a blissful smile on her face, Edward thought about what her left hand would look like with a band on her ring finger.

He too fell asleep that night with a smile on his face and different styles and types of rings dancing around his mind.

Thank you for reading.

#princesstreacle #princesstreaclefanfiction #out of the coffin #out of the coffin: the coven #out of the coffin sequel #ootc:tc #ootc #chapter twenty eight #vampires #supernatural love story #romance #smut #lemons #canon couples #au #inspired by true blood

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

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Only For A Moment Ch. 24

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Past physical violence(ish), FEELS.

A/N: You didn’t think a happy chapter was going to follow up the doozy of 23 did you? Because... yeaaaah that’s not what’s happening. Though, I have to say I really loved writing this chapter for reasons I’m not even 100% sure of. Maybe because the back and forth attempts at support are something I’m all too familiar with? Maybe I just really like circling back to things I implied earlier in he story? Both? Who knows.

Also, if you’re tagged (and still want to be) can you just sound off? It’s showing me that your tags are working but then it seems folks aren’t getting notified and I want to be sure you’re getting the heads up.

Tags are open!

@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky @soulless-and-sarcastic @saundrasays @breezy1415 @creepshowzombae @alyssaj23 @mywinterwolf @wonderlandmind4 @fairislesheets @anamcg317 @buckaroo-barness @jazztherebel @peachthatdrinkslemonade @regulusirius @auskitty @babyimp1967

The chair was something you tried not to think of. Of everything they put you through that one was the easiest to push from your mind. Everything after a round in that was fuzzy, like looking at the world through a foggy window while being underwater.

The taste of the rubber, the pain, that you remembered clearly enough. Some sort of electroshock you assumed. You suspected it was in those times that you had learned things. Languages, programming, combat, espionage. Because you had no solid recollection of actually being taught these skills they were just… there. Plus, besides using it for punishment (usually a last resort) there seemed to be a schedule, a method to it, at the beginning of your time with Hydra that tapered off after a time.

“Bucky?” He seems so far away. The look of terror is still there but his gaze shifts from your face to your arm. He pulls it straight and runs a finger over the track marks tucked inside your elbow. Instinctively you try and pull back, your heart begins to pick up speed, he holds you examining them. You curl your other arm protectively against your chest. He releases you and you curl into yourself.

“Please?” He reaches for your other arm and you reluctantly comply. More track marks. So many needles, and tests, and monitors. Days, maybe weeks, spent physically ill body burning and freezing and aching. He chews on his bottom lip before releasing you and bolting off the bed. “Come here,” He walks toward the kitchen and stands by the counter. You don’t move and he waves you over.

“You’re scaring me.”

For a split second, he looks bereft before his brows set at a determined angle, “I’m sorry but really,” again he gestures. Tentatively you rise up, the familiar feeling of dread curling in your stomach.

“Stand here,” he points to the living room side of the counter and takes the opposite kitchen side. Leaning down he rests his right elbow on the counter hand up. “Come on.”

“You want me to… arm wrestle you?” To say you were confused would be an understatement.

“Yup,” a crooked smile rises. “Humor me.”

“I feel like you have an unfair advantage here.”

He snorts, “That’s what I wanna find out. Don’t use your power, just your strength.” You squint at him for a second before getting into position and clasping his hand. “Give me all you got.”

You’re certain he’s hardly trying, but once you actually apply yourself he begins to move. His eyes lock onto yours. You feel him advance on you and you exert more force, the counter creaking under your elbows, you manage to push him back. It hits you that he is trying… You’re distracted by this realization and he begins to regain ground. Before you know it your hand slams painfully into the counter.

“Told you, unfair advantage,” you say in a light tone, rubbing the back of your hand. Any other humor leaves you when you look back to him. His right arm is across his chest, left covering his mouth, staring at you.

“No… you should have lasted a fraction of that.” His tone is so somber. The dread in your stomach growing. You just stare at him, feeling frozen.

You didn’t notice him next to you but you're in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for everything.” His hand gently rubs your back and you shudder against him, arms still curled against your chest. Suddenly you pull away staring down at your hands. You knew… had known they had done something to you but you didn’t want to face it…

“What did they do to me?” You say, barely a whisper body trembling, chills racing over your skin.

“They were making a weapon.” His hands slide over your own, holding them tight. “I’m sorry,” he says again, his voice sounding like it’s about to shatter.

“You didn’t do this,” your voice is shaky.

He shakes his head and paces away, hands running through his hair. The muscles in his back ripple with tension. “I did though…” Your heart stops, you’re certain it literally stops beating because everything around you goes unnaturally quiet until he says, “After they… made me… made him… After it worked… they always wanted more…” Air rushes back into your lungs and you feel the reassuring thundering of your heart.

“Look at me,” your voice is stronger than you feel as you approach him. He turns slowly, lifts his eyes reluctantly to your own. “You did not do this. This, none of this was your choice.”

“Still…” his fingers gently run up your arm to the marks left by countless needles. “If I hadn’t…”

“What?” taking his hands in your own. “If you hadn’t what, Buck?” Something flashes across his face at this shortened version of his name before vanishing. “If you hadn’t survived? If you hadn’t been strong enough?” He looks away and you cup the left side of his face, forcing him to look at you. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“It’s just… You didn’t deserve this…”

“And you did?!”

“I… I don’t know.” The mix of rage, confusion, and pain on his face feels like a knife being twisted in your chest. “I was a soldier, Y/N,” he gestures to his chest with his left hand. “Even before… I did things I wasn’t… but you… you were-“

“I was a thief, a con woman, a liar, a fraud-”

“And… after…” his eyes wander to that scar and your blood boils for a different reason.

“Do not pity me, Barnes,” his brows raise a bit. “Ever,” you pull your hands back and step away. It was something you couldn’t bear, even before Hydra. How many relationships had ended because they only saw you as a victim, someone to be handled with kid gloves lest you break.

“I don’t. I wouldn’t,” his tone is measured. “I only meant you deserve something good, not more… pain.”

Tears burn your eyes but you won’t allow them to fall, “I had something good, for just a little while…” And it’s true. The little family you carved out with Nix was incredible. You approach him and grasp his hands tight, “And I think this may be something good too.”

His hands squeeze yours but when he looks at you there’s no light in his eyes, “I wish I could tell you, you’re right.” He lifts his left hand and traces the scar on your right cheek, “The truth is I don’t know how much good is left in me…” Your eyes narrow and he tries to pull away. Your grip tightens, and for extra measure, you wind your power around your clasped hands.

“You have been nothing but good to me… For no reason.” He won’t look at you but you won’t let him go, can’t let him go. “You’re a good man James Barnes,” now his eyes shoot to you, filled with some emotion you can’t name, “with a good heart…” A wan smile flickers across his lips.

Slowly he leans down to kiss you. At first soft, so gentle it’s barely there. You wind your right hand into his hair, pulling his lips hard against your own, your kiss hungry. Every fiber of your being burns with desire, not only for him but to make him see himself the way you did. You were never convinced of your own inherent goodness. Even before Hydra, you had always viewed yourself as someone with a less than stellar moral compass… But some part of you knew that before the war, before being unmade, Bucky was a good man.

Suddenly you want him. All of him. You want to forget talk of trauma and torture, of good and bad. All you want is to feel him. Your body grinds against him, you nip at his lip, and feel him stir against you. Your hands wander to his hip bones and begin tracing a path southward.

He gently lays his hands over yours and pulls back shaking his head slightly. “No,” his eyes are cloudy, voice a soft rasp. Your hands stop their journey and you look up at him as he straightens.

Cupping your face in his large hands he just looks at you for a moment, the space between his brows creased. His thumbs softly stroke your cheeks, his voice is thick with emotion, “Could… Can I just hold you for a while… would that be ok?” You can only smile gently and nod, unable to trust your voice to hold steady for a simple, ‘yes.’

Without another word he scoops you up, his grip pressing you tight against his chest. A seemingly unnecessary gesture considering you’re steps from the bed but there’s a sweetness to it.

Tenderness had never been your way. Even how you loved had been hard-edged, more of an escape than anything else. This was something different. Because while seconds before you were ready to fuck him senseless, to use him to blot out the darker thoughts in the same way you had used others, as he settles down on the bed, his back against the wall, holding you like he had that first night, you were never so happy to have heard the word, ‘no.’

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky fanfic

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honmakurara · 5 years

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Gr8est full Osaka report

Yeah I know I’m (several months) late in writing this report, but:

1) DVD & Blu-Ray are up so I'd honestly love to read the opinion of more and more eighters about this con;

2) the truth is that the Gr8est concerts I attended in Osaka last August left me a bit shaken, for I think it was impossible not to deal with a eighter's feeling, after all.Anyway, since 2018 has gone, 2019 has started and maybe (maybe) I'm coping slightly better with my "Subaru feels", I feel like I can now write down a more relaxed report. Let's try, at least!

I feel very grateful I am in this fandom. Thanks to awesome Eighters I met back in Rotterdam for Misono Universe preview, I was able to attend Gr8est concert twice in Osaka last August. Since 2018 has been a terrible year for Eito, I deeply wished I could go and cheer for them live, but due to various constraints + the fact that I literally live on the other end of the world, I could not take it for granted, not at all. Still, I hoped. And that's why I deeply appreciate the effort and the exquisite kidness of people who allowed me to be there; more than anything else, even more than the concert itself, I have to say this gentleness touched me very, very deeply. Thanks to this, I met new Eighters and I'm, like... in love with them already. Both Eito & Eighters. I really hope I can go back to Japan and meet them again, one day. As for what the concert itself is concerned, to be honest, rather than a full report, at first I thought I was okay with writing just a quick report about how Eito members are handling this Gr8est Tour (that you will find HERE as "6nin eito, musically speaking").I made also another quick post HERE, right after the con.But as day, weeks and months passed by, I thought it was better to write down my personal memories because... they fade. So, sorry if you're going to read quite a messy, random and biased "report"... that's it! A creepy baby voice belonging to an animated Gr8est Baby (lol) introduces the concert... (I do actually wonder to whom that voice belongs... too creepy XD) BAND SESSION: Just like in Jam, the ouverture of the concert has been given to MUSIC (and I like it, because it ROCKS). Just like the mention written on the Tshirt tour "we'll make you forget it with our rock." Exactly. 1. Otou Seyo: unpopular opinion... I didn't like this song. Yeah, it was band-like even in the PV but, I don't know... I couldn't find anything special about it. Anything worth remembering/singing. Well, this tour definitely made me COMPLETELY change my mind (and I like it very much when the brats that Eito are DO that... it's so much like them, making people fall for their every work sooner or later. We are doomed XD)This song was (is) perfect: sung and played like never before, I'd say, strong and powerful and amazing. Everyone sang very focused-like, and above all I can still remember the strength of Ohkura's drums, its sound dominated (very beautifully, very impressively) every. other. sound. I swear. It was incredible to hear, to the point I can still feel its echo even now. I'm sure the DVD will also give justice to the beauty that is this song.If I have to say, I'd say that Eito started this con with a real blast! In between the two songs, Ryo made his initial speech. Very long, straightforward and even cute. He did refer to Subaru and to Eito's will of going on. Gosh, I wanted to hug him. He looked incredibly cool, tender and sweet at the same time. Yeah I know he's a good actor (thus pretty convincing), so it's not like we know how he truly felt like during that moment, but... I want to believe in what he said, being happy and eager to enjoy Eito+Eighters time together. Also, maybe it was just my impression, but it seemed to me like they took "longer pauses" between one song and another, during the band session (while in JAM it was one right after another). Maybe this was also made "for Yasu's sake" in order to let him recover better (or maybe I'm wrong... I just noticed these pauses were quite longer than last year). 2. Koko ni shikanai keshiki: SO GREAT. I'm very very happy this song was in the setlist because I've always, always loved it. It's also very nice for "opening" a concert after Ryo's speech. Oh, and btw during this song Ryo was amazing. 3. Noroshi: another unpopular opinion, I don't like this song. It never grew on me despite all the times they performed it during concerts since winter Eightertainment, on television and so on. Yeah, the PV is pretty cool, and also the lyrics. But it's not King of Otoko to me, I can't help it. Just like Oto Seyo, though, I changed idea after hearing it at this concert. I don't know exactly what's different from before, maybe it's the way Eito seemed to pour all their will power into this song... it turned out great, anyway. I also thought I would have missed Subaru's vocals here but, luckily, I didn't (which is something. Sasuga Eito). 4. Itta Janai ka: Aww, cuties! don't ask me whether they changed lyrics during their solo parts in this song, because I have no idea, I couldn't catch their words XD (I do remember Eighters laughed and cheered for them, anyway XD) What I can remember is also that the stage started moving forward, "Jukebox-like", and this is so freaking cool. Technically speaking I loved that choice in Jukebox because, I mean, can you imagine having to shift a whole band of people with a whole set of electronic instruments while singing and playing o_O? Exactly. I loved it! 5. Nagurigaki Beat: a song that grew on me slowly but steadily. I had the impression the dome was particularly "on fire" during this song, or maybe it was just me XD 6. Kokoro Sora Moyou: I've liked this song for so long that I was almost "surprised" it could be part of the setlist (when, unfortunately, Tsuyoku Tsuyoku Tsuyoku did not make it...) . It was soooooo lovely to hear. 7. Heavenly Psycho: okay, now, the feels and the confession. As far as I never liked the original song (with Uchi's presence... sorry, he's not my cup of tea) and I never really understood why Eito are so fond of this, I came to fall deeply in love with its "updated version" they sang during Genki con/DVD. I cried a river because it was too beautiful and because Ohkura was not there (being ill in the hospital). Hearing it live, OMG, I think I froze. To the point I didn't manage to enjoy it as I wished (yeah I know it's stupid but this was what happened), on my first day. The following day I felt better and I started crying when they played it, so I think I'm helpless XD 8. BJ: I'm deeply in love with this song, but I was so nervous during Heavenly Psycho that when I first heard the beginning of this song, I didn't even recognize it. Then, half of my mind went "OMG they're playing this one right after HP, they want me dead" and the other half was "mind going blank." Also, Ohkura's voice faltered during his lines (that I AM IN LOVE WITH), so... ç_ç I know it's not Ohkura's fault, but my heart clenched in pain with him during this song. Same as HP, the following day I cried a river. 9. Zukkoke Otokomichi: this song belongs to Yoko fully XD It's all I can remember about it, with Yoko taking the lead and being basically everywhere during the song (it's probably not like this, but my biased mind is... biased XD). Oww I loved it sooo much, the "sped-up" version is so freakin' cool!!! 10. Musekinin Hero: by this time, if I remember well, the moving stage had gone back to its original place, while my poor feelings had not, especially when Ryo decided to go around here and there and everywhere while playing the guitar Anyway I don't think I have mentioned so far how badass Yasu was while playing, during EACH of the band songs XD It was a pleasure to see he was able to move freely and more. Also there was a time during one of the first songs (KNSKeshiki?) when he joined Maru's spot and Ryo did the same and omg they played in circle facing each other and it was just too cool! 11. Life: oh this is so tough. What this song means to both Eito and Eighters, both before Subaru's departure and after that. I really hoped they would include this one in the setlist because it's, like, some kind of identity card of who they are, what they could achieve, what they can aim for, the way they've always struggled to see the light, the way they've never given up. Never ever. This song is precious and carries a deep meaning, but also a sort of "burden", I think, after it was the last one they sang with Subaru (with Ryo finally crying out his pain). Re-starting as Eito had to pass through this (and go on through Koko Ni), so even if they didn't play it flawless (Maru is a bit unsure sometimes, vocally speaking, when playing Subaru's lines, and Ohkura was really struggling to sing properly -I don't think I'll ever forget his bent head while singing-), it was too precious and I cried. I wanted to sing it along with them, but I had to stop midway because my eyes were so teary I wasn't able to see nor the boys nor the big screens anymore. So, well... I'm very happy that this song keeps staying by their side always. 12. Omoidama: other tears, okay. Maybe I remember very badly but for this song, Eito stood up and sang it all lined up on the main stage. This song carries extraordinary beautiful lyrics so maybe it's no wonder that I gave up again and went teary (again!), especially seeing Ohkura conveying his everything into this song. I like Omoidama, it always gave me positive thinking; at least until Eito performed it one last time with Subaru on television, and I don't know even know why, I felt so moved I cried. During this live concert, once again. MC I understand very, very little Japanese, and Eito during MC change topic every half a minute, so I have to confess I didn't get most of their talks. I think they started talking about nicknames? or the way people calls them at work? Something like that? Memorable thing was Maru anyway (bless him) that made a few incredibly resembling monomane about the different firework types... A-WE-SO-ME XD Yasu was sent behind the stage to rest, and I also witnessed cute Ryo making sure Ohkura got his own water bottle before giving back the empty bottles to staff guys :p

Second part of the concert:

13. Ima / 14. Hesomagari / 15. ER2 / 16. Gamushara Koushinkyoku: during this parts Eito went on the little moving stages (dunno how they're called) and despite the fact that I don't like Ima (I like the lyrics and the PV, but not the frilly dance), I was blessed with a Tatsu rapping his everything during ER2 right above me (well he was not exactly near but I was so dumbstruck he is REAL, so please forgive me)... so when I saw the DVD preview with him screencapped exactly during that moment, omg, the feels!!

Solos:

17. Watashi Kagami: I cried. 18. TORN: I was speechless. 19. PanPanda: I died from cuteness. 20. Love&King: I grinned like an idiot XD

Okay, on a more serious note:

17. Watashi Kagami: my fave about Yasu's solos, I was so hyped and dokidoki, and Yasu looked so tiny (well, I was far away) all by himself on stage but at the same time his presence and his soul was HUGE and I was blown away during his performance. I relaxed down completely, and hearing him was like having the sweetest lullaby ever. I cried. I really loved, loved loved it utterly. I'm so grateful I could hear this live. 18. TORN: ahhhh. I'm not coherent. Quite differently from Watashi Kagami, I kept being too hyped/dokidoki/nervous all the time during TORN so I cannot say I enjoyed this as I wished but still, I'm so happy I was there. I went to the cons with no spoilers about the setlist BUT the solos, and back then when I heard about TORN I couldn't believe it and was even scared and panicking bc, what if they only played it in Sapporo? what if they changed the part of the setlist like they did for winter Eightertainment? I know it's incredibly stupid and selfish of me but I went into all kind of idiot thinking bc I wanted to see them SO MUCH çoç Then, well, I really was there ♥♥♥ One day I was in arena () and I witnessed Ryo GRINNING like an idiot (in love) when he came on stage for TORN, before his own part started. He's in love, yeah I know U_U No I'm not coherent about this, sorry! SORRY! Oh but did you see Ryo SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT also during his dance part together with Tatsu çOç??? 19. PanPanda: two cutieeeeees! During this cuteness I manage to collect all the pieces of my heart that had melted during Watashi Kagami and TORN... 20. Love&King: when Takatsuking project first began, long ago, I wasn't that eager, but he slowly grew on me with time and this perf was epic! TORN presence during Love&King was so funny, I might have fangirled more on this rather than TORN itself, maybe because TORN does not give you the time to THINK, actually King on his throne was THE BEST XD

Game corner: Ohkura Tik + another thing whose purpose I didn't exactly understand, but it was funny to see and I saw TORN again dealing with this thing together, so my feels were a mess XD Ohkura Tik corner was terribly stupid and cute and the best thing ever. Seriously.

The Yokohina part here is definitely my fave, and whole dome squealed as much as I did, so I was double happy XD

21. Hibiki / 22. Namida no Kotae: two quite "Ohkura-centered" songs to begin with, I'm not very fond of those but several parts had me moved. As said above, Ohkura's voice was off but he tried his best, I remember him bending forward so much, nearly crouching in order to sing better (?) and he nonetheless smiled all the time. It was kinda painful to see ç__ç

23. King of Otoko / 24. Tsumi to Natsu / 25. Clover / 26. Maemuki Scream: during this part here I have barely memories because they went around on carts and the fangirl that is in me tried desperately to look everywhere at the same time. Sorry. Eito were as energetic as always and I really enjoyed watching them going around, not to mention all Eighters doing the dance moves just like them omg so perfect!!! so skilled!!! I'm a fan of Eighters also XD

27. Osaka Romanesque: I think I have been very very lucky hearing this in Osaka. I remember when they mentioned lyrics of places I had been into just a few hours before, and I burst into tears from feels and I felt I wanted to hug Eito and Eighters and the whole dome at the same time. It gave me shivers and it felt very special. Encore 28. Sweet Parade / 29. Panorama / 30. Aoppana I don't like Sweet Parade/Panorama very much, but they're okay songs for an encore, so I didn't stop from fangirling here x3

31. Koko Ni: ah, this. Even Eighters barely remembered the lyrics bc it was the newest song, and Eito in Osaka didn't play it yet as we saw that in Tokyo or Fukuoka, I mean, hugging each other or being the usual idiots. But still, the overwhelming feeling this song spread on the whole dome when they sang it is... I cannot describe it enough, I guess. They sang it one beside another, like Hibiki, but at the same time they played it from the bottom of their hearts, with all the love and feels they carried. When I walked back to my hotel, my legs were jelly beans, my feels were a mess and I couldn't even realize I had just come back from Kyocera Dome. All I could hear in my mind was Koko ni. Ugh ♥

Random things:

1. I attended the concert of 25th August 2018 in Osaka... yeah, the anniversary of Eito Kansai debut Two years ago, on that very same day, I attended my very first Eito event (Recital in Nagoya), which is still so precious to me *_*

2. It was my very first time attending a concert at Kyocera Dome, my first time in an arena seat (!!!! on Saturday only, close to a spot where Ryochan performed torn), my first time being freaking nervous before/during/after the concert. The following day I relaxed down quite a lot. My memories about the concert come straight from Sunday only, while as for Saturday, I have mostly a black-out.

3. despite the arena seat, our area got zero gintape, but I am very happy anyway because a friend of mine offered me a green gin tape... my treasure çOçEighters are really the best I am sorry that I was so much "blacked-out" during the cons that even of my very very very favourite moment, the final one when Eito join hands and so do Eighters, I only have blurred memories. But the lingering, beautiful feeling is always there, though.

It wouldn't be fair of me to even try making a comparison between GR8EST and JAM, that I both attended, because if last year everything seemed perfect, now we now that it wasn't exactly like so (after Yasu's surgery and Subaru's idea of leaving already in the way) and this latest tour proved how Eito tried their hardest to start again from scratch and from -literally- body and soul deep injuries. They didn't come out unscathed but they really, really opened their own heart up to eighters in order to share a good time together. I've said this before, Ryo was impressive and amazing all the time. A cutie, a cool guitarist, a still a bit awkward "leader" but always very humble in his attitude, even during the 'least important' of moments of the show. It really impressed me how he made sure that every Eito member took their drink during MC, how he brought back the empty bottles... maybe a very ordinary gesture, but so caring, and he wasn't even supposed to do that himself. While Ohkura's attitude broke my heart because he was obviously unwell with his voice off and his desperate attempts to sing 'well' anyway. He drummed with all his might and soul, and he waved energetically (with that SOFT arms of his) even to the most far away upper seats. He later said he felt like he received tons of love in Osaka and by reading that I melted, even though the day of the concert I didn't melt, I just squealed like an idiot despite being very far, so I feel really the biggest idiot ever XD Anyway. Teeny tiny Yasu isn't teeny tiny anymore. He might have been recovering, but he was very sassy when playing the guitar and never showed any mercy to his fragile body, I'd say O-o He was impressive and so is his voice, growing very fast and very beautifully. Maru is a softie. What would we do without Maru's gags XD? We know he's hurt the most by Subaru's absence but, again, he never let those feelings overshadow the show, the music, the other members. Yoko and Hina, papa and mama, mama and papa. Yoko, to me, was like watching Maru: not letting himself go, giving his very best both on trumpet and on cheering Eighters when he had to. I wanted to hug him so tight!!! And Hina is a steady rock and among all the other qualities of this man, I am really, really thankful he is there to watch over the whole group (and that's how KING+TORN was born 8D - sorry just kidding ^^''). Maybe the Eito we saw during GR8EST weren't the most sparkling Eito ever, but they sure are the guys that risked it all by choosing to go on even this time, despite many hardships, and they won the deal, because Eighters are there with them. On a closing note, I remember Tacchon doing the gay monomane a few times during the con and one last time before saying 'bye, and this time he was with Yasu who tried to imitate him, obviously failing due to his injured waist. This made the whole dome laugh and I found the whole thing honestly so sweet, rather than gross (it'd normally be gross, I guess), because this is just so much like Eito, "find and share the laughter even when normally only some sad/pity thoughts would be there." That's one of the reason why I fell for them, and probably the biggest and deepest one that keeps me tied to them. So despite my tears and my messy feels of those days, I can say it aloud: I'm very proud to be an Eighter PS: god bless Ohkura always for being such a fanboy of his own group and singing the lines of the songs even when he's not supposed to. You damn cutie, I love you!

#gr8est #report #my poor feels #osaka #SO PROUD OF MY BABIES #SO PROUD OF MY ICHIBAN #kanjani8 #eito #THE IDIOTS I LOVE #torn is the right word to describe my OTP

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theinquisitivej · 6 years

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Bojack Horseman Season 5 – A Season Discussion (Part One of Two)

Confronting the truth of who you are or why you do the things you do can be one of the most difficult challenges you face. Maybe doing so will make you realise that the responsibility of your actions ultimately falls on nobody else’s shoulders other than your own. Maybe being honest about why you did something crazy will mean you have to confront a hard truth that causes you a great deal of emotional pain. Or maybe being truthful about who you are will make you worry that you’re not right for the person you’re in a relationship with, or that you may not even be the right person for anyone at all. Facing such difficulties can be disheartening and make you feel powerless in your attempts to overcome any one of them. It’s an understandable and relatable struggle, and one which I would argue that the main cast of Bojack Horseman face in this fifth season. Bojack Horseman Season 5 looks at the excuses we make as we shift focus away from who we really are and justify our mistakes.

I won't provide a summary for the overarching premise or plot of this show as a whole in this review; if you want a general introduction to Bojack Horseman, one of my favourite television series out there right now, then check out the extended review I put out last year which covers both the series overall and its fourth season. In fact, I’m not even going to be providing a brief plot summary for Season 5 (because when do I ever do anything briefly with my writing…). This isn’t a review of Season 5, necessarily; it’s more of a full discussion which assumes you’ve seen it or otherwise don’t care about spoilers. So, leave now if you have plans to see it and want to go in blind. Otherwise you can stick around as I go over some of the episodes and talk about how they tie into what I consider to be the season’s main theme: the struggle of being honest with yourself and others versus the alternative of making excuses which take you further away from who you are, and can even take you dangerously close to excusing the unforgivable.

In the season’s first episode, ‘The Light Bulb Scene’, we see Bojack go through an experience which, on paper, could be liberating for him and make him feel more comfortable with who he is – he has to film a nude scene for his new show ‘Philbert’. Not only that, but the director specifically structures the scene so that Bojack is fully illuminated and has to do a full rotation in front of the camera. Bojack is of course extremely reluctant because he is constantly terrified of people seeing who he is under the surface and pushes most of the people he meets away as a result. But with some convincing from Princess Carolyn, he goes through with it. At first, Bojack does seem to be more comfortable once the scene is over. He jokes with colleagues about it, even walks around naked for longer than he needs to and invites everyone working on the show over to his house for a party that night. Even though Bojack has hosted countless parties at his house in the past in an effort to make himself feel less alone, it really does seem that Bojack has laid himself bare to the world, and doing that has made him happier and more open to inviting people into his home and possibly even his life as well.

But then he talks with his director Flip at the party, and some of the things he says makes Bojack’s positive demeanour slowly slip away. He’s not comfortable with some of Flip’s assumptions about his co-star Gena, and that stuff Flip says about the show not being about Bojack, but about his character Philbert, shakes him in a way that he wasn’t prepared for. Bojack doesn’t voice his thoughts, but in that moment his face conveys his discomfort with the direction he’s heading in, even though on the surface, he did the scene, and the people around him think he’s comfortable with all of this. As he watches the fish dancer with a static, unnatural looking smile on her face and the camera alternates between her face and Bojack’s, both the audience and Bojack realise that his refreshed outlook is just a performance that presents the world with a seemingly positive veneer that says nothing of what he is really feeling underneath. Bojack has only laid himself bare in a superficial sense; he’s shown the world his body, but who he is underneath continues to be hidden.

In the Diane-focused second episode of the season, ‘The Dog Days Are Over’, Diane needs to get away, and when her boss tells her to produce content during her trip, she decides to write an article on 10 Reasons To Go To Vietnam, which means she has to retroactively explain why she went so far away. We hear the composed, articulate, best version of Diane as her internal writing voice narrates the episode and goes through each of the different reasons for why she decided to make this trip. The reality of the trip, however, is a different story, as it doesn’t run as smoothly as she planned and Diane realises she doesn’t fit in with Vietnamese people despite her heritage, even inadvertantly causing offence to a stranger by touching her son’s head (a rude gesture within that culture). In her head, Diane keeps going through her different excuses for why she’s in this place, and they all sound like the typical explanations for why people go travelling. She wants a tangible reason that she can point to which explains to herself as much as anyone else why she’s done this, and she wants the reason to sound like it was a measured, deliberate decision rather than something she decided to do in the heat of the moment based on an emotional reaction.

But the story we’re seeing, both in the present and in the past as we see the events that led up to this trip, shows us that they don’t quite fit with her. Each of her excuses frame her as someone she’s not, and as she gradually admits that each of the reasons she’s listed don’t apply to her, we see the “actual reason [Diane] went to Vietnam”: that her heart was broken when she saw her soon-to-be ex-husband kiss another woman in the same way he used to kiss her. We saw Diane sobbing at the start of this episode and we didn’t know why, and at the end of the episode we return to that same moment as Diane remembers it, and it feels like her heart is breaking all over again, and ours along with it. But after facing the truth of her emotions after making a literal list of excuses for why she did something crazy when she was hurting, she says truthfully that she takes comfort in learning that she “can survive being alone”. Confronting the true reason for her actions is painful because it forces her to revisit a moment that devastated her, but at the same time, it gives Diane strength by making her realise that she was strong enough to face this and still be here.

In ‘Planned Obsolescence’, Todd and Yolanda end the episode on a frank conversation in which they decide to break up. Despite coming out on the other side of an awkward evening with Yolanda’s family who are all very open with how sexual they are while Todd and Yolanda are both asexual, and despite Yolanda telling her family the truth about her asexuality and them being respectful and accepting of her, Todd still feels that he and Yolanda haven’t been honest with themselves and with each other. They’re very different people who are only together because they both happen to be asexual. But as ill-suited as they are for each other, Yolanda worries that the chances of finding someone who’s compatible and also asexual are slim to impossible. As optimistic as Todd is, you can hear from his voice that he also has similar concerns. And yet even so, Todd proposes they make an arrangement that, if they haven’t found anyone by the time they’re 100, they’ll meet up again. Todd may not be the brightest guy, but he is a shining light in this show and continues to have the healthiest outlook out of anyone in the main cast. He makes his excuses to himself and to Yolanda’s family, but in the end, he confronts the truth of who he is, and finds a way to be okay with it even if it means he may not be with someone perfectly matched to him, or with anyone at all. Bless this show for giving us Todd.

As an aside, the farcical interactions between Yolanda, Todd, and her family as the script playfully has its fun with all the familiar conventions of situational-comedy has resulted in some of the hardest laughter I’ve experienced from television this year.

Taking us to the other side of things, let’s talk about one of the most talked about episodes of the season, Episode 6 – ‘Free Churro’. Apart from the prologue showing us a memory of Bojack’s father talking at his silent son for three minutes, ‘Free Churro’ is a twenty-minute monologue of Bojack giving a eulogy at his mother’s funeral. There are camera cuts to different angles, but the whole episode is set in one location, and the sole point of focus is Bojack as he delivers his eulogy and goes on his many tangents. In a way, it’s the stylistic opposite of ‘Fish Out of Water’, the almost entirely wordless Season 3 episode that focused on telling a purely visual story as Bojack explored the many underwater locations of the Pacific Ocean. ‘Free Churro’ sucks you in with its one extended, unbroken scene and Will Arnett’s exceptional vocal performance as Bojack as his soft cadences convey the fluid emotions that pass over Bojack during this whole sequence. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before, in either Bojack Horseman or in animated television in general.

There is so much meat to chew over and reflect on in this episode, but for me, I’ll focus on the significance of the last words of Bojack’s mother and how he processes them. In his eulogy, Bojack keeps coming back to her last words - “I see you.” He wonders what his mother meant by that, wonders if she meant anything at all by them. Did she acknowledge him in her last moments and finally accept him? This is what you would typically expect a grieving child to cling onto, but after a lifetime of cruelty from his parents and waiting for some sign that they loved and accepted him, Bojack is not sure if he believes this. He keeps offering alternative explanations; maybe she was saying that he doesn’t fool her, and that she sees him as the mess-up that he is, or maybe her mind was going and she meant nothing by it other than simply saying that she saw him. By the end of the episode, Bojack believes he’s connected the dots when he realises they were in the Intensive Care Unit – the I.C.U. . He concludes that his mother was looking past him and was just reading the letters off of a sign. He decides that yes, of course she didn’t mean anything positive by those words, it was all just a random coincidence, and that in the end, his mother had nothing to say to him on her death bed.

Given what we’ve seen of Beatrice Horseman in the last four seasons, that’s certainly possible; she is the kind of person who could do that. But the thing is, even though Bojack treats the conclusion he reaches as the truth of the matter, there’s nothing in the episode which necessarily confirms that this was the case. Beatrice could have been offering a last-minute act of kindness to Bojack, but Bojack is so ready to believe that his mother had nothing to say to him that, the moment he considers the possibility that his mother was acknowledging him, he looks for excuses for why that isn’t true. In his own words, Bojack was “prepared for more cruelty” when his mother was dying, but he “was not prepared for ‘I see you’”. He thought he knew what his mother would say to him, but when she said something else, it shook him, and he didn’t know what it meant or how it made him feel. After he convinces himself that the excuse he’s come up with about the ICU is the truth, he concludes “I guess it’s good to know. It’s good to know that there is nobody looking out for me, that there never was, and there never will be. No, it’s good to know that I am the only one that I can depend on”. Bojack clings to this excuse with such certainty because it cements the impression he’s always had that he is alone, and that’s the only way things can ever be.

Because otherwise him being alone and having no one else to rely on isn’t because of his parents and the way they treated him. If he accepts that he doesn’t have to be alone because of his parents, he might have to accept that he needs other people, and he needs their help. But sadly, he isn’t quite there yet.

To be concluded in Part 2…

#The Inquisitive J #review #tv review #film #tv #television #film critic #film discussion #critical analysis #criticism #critical discussion #critical article #bojack #bojack horseman #bojack horseman season 5 #bojack horseman review #bojack horseman season 5 review #the inquisitive j reviews

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sonnets-and-snowdrops · 6 years

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Hi! I saw the prompt you did on Ukitake/Byakuya, and I was wondering if you'd do another one? I saw your writings on AO3 and they're amazing, and I absolutely love the way you portray this pairing! To be honest all these hurt!memes seem like amazing ideas for fics and I'd be fine with any of them, but maybe "you don’t care, nobody cares, just leave"? Either way, you're amazing and thanks for sharing all these stories!

From here || Always accepting :)))

Okaaaaay, so - here’s what I’ve learned. I’m pretty awful at incorporating these prompts word for word. In fact, I’m so awful at it that, this time, the prompt didn’t even make it into the final version of the fic. I tried giving a variation of the line to Ukitake in the second section, and then I tried giving it to Byakuya in the third section, but… it just didn’t quite work for me? Somehow? So, uh - apologies, but I, uh - may not have followed this prompt at all. Uh. Oops.That said - here’s a little story with some mild ByaUki senpai/kohai relationship stuff going on, and with a little bit of Yoruichi (which surprised me - I’ve never written her before, ever, and she just kinda showed up in this fic? So, uh, okay!) stepping in as Bya-kun’s mentor when Juu-chan finds himself pretty much down for the count.It’s worth noting that Byakuya is quite young in this fic - younger than he is in TBTP, even. He’s probably the equivalent to eight or ten years old, in Soul-Society-time, whatever that is.And, finally - thanks for your patience, and your lovely comments, and your lovely request, Anon-san! I hope you can forgive me for going off the rails so much, prompt-wise haha…

Byakuya is young.

Byakuya is old enough to understand the things that thenoblemen that come and go whisper to his grandfather in the shadows of theKuchiki mansion, but Byakuya is young enough for the noblemen to dismiss him asan innocent, inoffensive, innocuous presence. They do not recognize just howmuch Byakuya hears, and they speak freely in front of him. To say that Byakuyais glad to be looked at as childish and insignificant would be a grossexaggeration - he is of noble birth,after all, and no matter how young he is, Byakuya believes that he is worthy ofat least some small modicum of respect, under all circumstances - but,privately, Byakuya always finds himself quietly thrilled when secrets that arenot meant for him reach his ears.

But sometimes, these secrets remind Byakuya of how much hehas yet to learn.

Byakuya did not know, for example, that his favorite teacher- a Captain, like his grandfather, but a man who admonishes only gently, andwho speaks kindly to Byakuya, and who smiles,unlike his grandfather - is not, in fact,a strong person. Byakuya has marveled at the grace and elegance with which histeacher wields his zanpakutō,and Byakuya has found himself spellbound by his teacher’s extraordinaryfacility with intricate kidō.Byakuya has spent long hours sipping tea with his teacher, and talking abouthistory, and mythology, and what makes a good leader, and how to define thingslike happiness and sadness and friendship and love.Byakuya was led to believe, throughout his entire childhood and into his earlyadolescence, where he awkwardly lingers now, that his teacher was the pinnacleof strength.

Howvery, very wrong he was.

“CaptainUkitake has taken ill,” a seated officer from the Thirteenth Division tellsByakuya’s grandfather.

“Again,”Byakuya’s grandfather growls under his breath, clearly displeased. Byakuyafrowns from where he stands at the side of the reception hall. His grandfatherdoes not seem concerned, and that hits a sour chord with Byakuya. It’s as ifByakuya’s grandfather takes Captain Ukitake’s illness for granted, as if he expected that Captain Ukitake shouldfall ill - and that can’t be right, can it? Why, Byakuya wonders, is hisgrandfather not showing greater concern?

“I’vecome with a formal entreaty,” the seated officer continues, “from the Captainhimself. He wants to know whether it might be possible for the Sixth Divisionto take over a small portion of the Thirteenth’s reconnaissance duties, forapproximately the next two weeks. But,” the officer adds, dropping his voiceand glancing about himself, “between you and me, sir, I’d suggest making moreextensive preparations. The Captain mentioned two weeks, but we both know howoptimistic he is.”

Byakuya’sgrandfather, already frowning, makes a small sound of annoyance. “Oh?”

Theofficer shakes his head. “The Captain is not well, sir,” is all he says.

Byakuya’sgrandfather straightens his back, and he draws a high, tight breath, and henods, crisply, just once. “Very well,” he tells the seated officer. “I willmake the necessary arrangements.” He dismisses the officer with a curt wave ofhis hand, and he turns on his heel, making for his office. “Byakuya?” he calls.“Come. This will be a good lesson in logistics. I will show you - ”

Byakuya’s grandfather’s frown deepens. His grandson, who hecould have sworn was present for his interaction with the seated officer, isnowhere to be seen. Mildly irritated, but not enough to give it a secondthought, he harumphs under hisbreath, and sets off again, with bold strides and a head full of complaints,for his office.

—

Byakuya’s fists are balled up at his sides. He’d used hisvery best-flash step to make it here, just outside the small, wooden structurein the middle of the Thirteenth Division’s territory that serves as histeacher’s private quarters. Byakuya has been here many times, but never withoutinvitation - and never, Byakuya thinks, under such grave circumstances. Byakuyais not certain whether he will be welcome here, at a time like this. Histeacher has always been a generous host, but Byakuya wonders vaguely aboutother members of his teacher’s division. A sickroom is not a place for a child,Byakuya learned long ago. His grandfather taught him that, and though Byakuya’sfather had been of a different opinion, his grandfather’s wishes had always wonout. Not, of course, that it much matters anymore; Byakuya’s father is gone,now. Perhaps there was some wretched connection between his father’s untimelydeath, and the amount of time that Byakuya, fearful and foolish and ignorant,had spent at his bedside. It’s unlikely, Byakuya knows - but he can’t help butwonder.

Tentatively, Byakuya presses his palm to wood of the door.He applies pressure, and the door slides open, just as it always does.“…hello?” Byakuya dares to ask. “Ukitake-san? Are you here?”

When Byakuya hears no answer, he opens the door a little bitfarther. It is darker inside his teacher’s quarters than it is outside, andByakuya blinks, hoping that his eyes will adjust quickly -

And then Byakuya’s hand flies to his mouth. He stuffs thebacks of two fingers inside and bites down, almost succeeding - but not quite -in suppressing a gasp.

Because the man lying before him is not his teacher, not asByakuya knows him.

Still, Byakuya cannot deny that there uncanny similaritiesbetween his teacher and this barely breathing body, stripped to the waist andplied with cool cloths and poultices and splayed weakly out upon a sweat-soakedfuton that must once have been dry and clean. They have the same white hair,and the same kindly features. They have the same thin limbs, and the samemassive reiatsu. They even have the same bright, green eyes - though, Byakuyahas seen enough of sickness to know that fever can make a person’s eyes shinejust as readily as joy or cleverness.

Byakuya feels afraid. He feels afraid, because it seems tohim that he has, for perhaps the first time in his life, stumbled uponsomething that he is very definitely not supposed to see. He feels that he hasintruded upon something horribly private, and that he has somehow violated histeacher by coming here, and by seeing him like this. Byakuya squeezes his eyesshut, and he turns his head to the side. He will leave, he decides. He willleave, and he will run away, and he will forget that he ever saw his teacher’sbody laid so low.

“…who’s there?”

The voice that rises from the darkness is not his teacher’svoice, either, not as Byakuya knows it. Byakuya’s teacher has a rich, clearvoice that rolls like gentle waves, and this voice wafts, weak and wavering,floating slow and directionless through the air like fog on a grey and hazysummer morning.

Byakuya’s mouth is dry, and when he speaks, his voicecracks. “It’s Byakuya,” he says.

A quiet smile alights upon his teacher’s face. “Bya-kun,” hesays. His words are soft, and they slur gently - it’s subtle, but it’s enoughthat Byakuya notices. “Do come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Byakuya steps quietly through the door and inches closer,still staring at his teacher. Has no one, Byakuya wonders vaguely, thought toattend to his teacher in a more proper fashion than this? Should his teachernot be transferred to the Fourth Division for closer supervision and bettertreatment? Why has his teacher been left to suffer what is clearly a gravesickness in solitude, and in darkness? Byakuya’s nose wrinkles against thesmell of strong herbs, and his lip curls as the vague beginnings of anger start to coil inside his belly. This isn’t right. Somethingabout this isn’t right, and none of it sits well inside Byakuya’s youngheart.

He wants to help. He musthelp, somehow. His teacher is sick - his teacher could be dying, for allByakuya knows - and no one seems to be doing anything about it.

“I heard you were sick,” Byakuya says, kneeling tensely athis teacher’s side. “I was worried. I… wanted to see you…”

—

Tears stream down Byakuya’s face as he wanders his weary wayhome. Byakuya is young, but Byakuya is not so young that he does not know whatdeath looks like when it first begins to grip the living. Byakuya didn’t knowwhat he’d been thinking - why, he wonders, had he supposed that visiting histeacher would make anything better?

Byakuya’s teacher is dying.

Byakuya’s teacher is dying, and Byakuya knows it. The fever istoo high, and his teacher’s body is too weak, and though Byakuya is no experton the subject, he does not believe that anyone who brings up that much bloodwhen they cough is on track to survive for more than a few days.

Byakuya had sat with his teacher, and they had talked for atime, but soon, Ukitake had waved a weak and trembling hand, and had toldByakuya that he did not need to stay any longer, if he did not wish to.

Byakuya had nodded wordlessly, and he had risen anddeparted. It was for the best, he supposed; his throat had grown tight, and he hadnot wished to weep in front of his dying teacher.

Byakuya walks mindlessly, not quite knowing where he wantsto go, and not quite caring. Sunset bathes the Seireitei in golden light, andByakuya scowls at the splendor laid out before him. He finds it cruel, that theworld should keep on turning like this - and so beautifully, too - when one ofthe greatest lives that it has ever seen is about to end.

“Byakuya-bō!Yo - is that you?”

Byakuya groans aloud. This voice is one of the very, verylast he wants to hear right now. He is not in the mood for ridicule, and he isnot in the mood for games. He is in the mood for solitude and sadness. He is inthe mood to be alone with his grief.

“Byakuya-bō?C’mon! Turn around and face me, kid! I’m your elder, y’know - gotta respect me,right?”

Byakuya, limbs heavy with sorrow, musters the energy to makea slow about-face. He stares, dead-eyed, and he takes in Yoruichi-san’s big,bright smile, and he lets her read what she will in his expression and demeanor.He is too tired for her antics, and he silently prays that, perhaps, she willlook into his eyes and understand this.

For a second, Yoruichi-san is silent. Her smile, which wasbroad and wide and cheery at first, starts to crumple in on itself like awilting flower. She blinks, and lets out a soft, “Shit,” and she drops to herknees, so that her face is level with Byakuya’s now. Byakuya winces when shelays a hand on his shoulder, but she stays him with gentle words. “Hey,” shesays, “easy. Easy, kid. What happened to you?”

Byakuya shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “Nothing happenedto me. I’m fine.”

“Yeah. Sure. That’s why you’re crying, right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Nah, you’re not. Nice try, Byakuya-bō.”

“Stop it, Yoruichi-san. Please. I’m fine. I promise.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I am. But…” Byakuyalooks away. “…Captain Ukitake isn’t,” he says softly.

Comprehension slowly dawns in Yoruichi-san’s face. “Oh,” shewhispers. “Byakuya-bō - ”

“He’s dying,” Byakuya says, unable to keep himself fromcutting Yoruichi-san off, because he’s quite sure that she doesn’t understand.“That’s not what he says - he says he’ll be all right soon, but - but he won’t. I know he won’t. I’ve just been to see him, and… a-and…” Byakuyahangs his head, and he finds himself leaning hard against Yoruichi-san, seekingcomfort from her in a way that he never, neverimagined he would. “He’s so sick, Yoruichi-san,” Byakuya says in a hoarse,broken whisper. “He can’t even breathe right, not really… and no one’s takingcare of him, I don’t think… and he’s dying,Yoruichi-san, he’s gonna die, I know it - ”

“…hey.” Yoruichi-san pulls Byakuya to her, and Byakuya,against every part of his better judgement, shakes and cries and breaks apartin her arms. He feels Yoruichi-san’s hands on his back, and he’s sure that histears are staining the pristine white of her haori, but she doesn’t seem tocare, and so, right now, neither does Byakuya. “Hey, Byakuya-bō. It’s cool. I’ve gotcha. Letit out, Byakuya-bō…let it out…”

After atime, Byakuya’s sobbing subsides. He finds himself trembling in Yoruichi-san’sarms, only half-listening to her words of comfort. He’s suddenly exhausted, andhe wants to lay down on the ground, right here and right now, and curl up intoa tiny ball, and never speak to anyone, ever again, unless they have come totell him truly that his teacher is alive and well, and will always be.

“Yougood now?” Yoruichi-san asks gently.

“No,”Byakuya answers.

“Right.Yeah, I guess - that’s not what I meant. I meant - if I were to tell yousomething about Captain Ukitake right now, do you think you’d have it in you tolisten to me?”

Thatpiques Byakuya’s interest. Hope flares in his chest - but Byakuya is wary, andhe does not let his hope glow too brightly. Still, he pulls slightly away fromYoruichi-san, and he says, “Yes.”

“Cool.”Yoruichi releases Byakuya from her embrace, and she lays both hands flat onByakuya’s shoulders, and she looks him squarely in the face. “Listen to me, kid- you might not believe it, but I promise you - Captain Ukitake isn’t dying.Okay?”

Byakuyablinks. “What?”

“Youheard me, right? He’s not gonna die, all right? Not any time soon. Simple asthat.”

“But -but I saw him - ”

“And?”

“And -and he’s sick, Yoruichi-san, he’s -he’s so sick - ”

“Easy,Byakuya-bō. Hear meout, okay?” Yoruichi-san’s eyes soften, and so do her hands on Byakuya’sshoulders. “I dunno how much of this I should be telling you,” she says, “butCaptain Ukitake has a really unusual body. He’s used to getting sick like this.It happens all the time.”

Byakuyafrowns. “I’ve never seen him get sick before,” he points out.

“Maybe.”Yoruichi-san pauses, considering. It looks to Byakuya like she’s choosing her wordscarefully, and that angers him. Byakuya is young, but he is not a child, andhe’s worried about his teacher. He wants Yoruichi-san to tell him the wholetruth. “Ask Captain Ukitake to explain this himself when he recovers,” is whatYoruichi-san says, in the end. “For now - believe me when I tell you he’s no stranger tosickness, and believe me when I tell you he’ll pull through. He always does.” She cocks her headto the side, and gives Byakuya a tiny, lopsided, half-hearted smile. “Do youfeel better now?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” Byakuya shrugs. “Maybe a little.”

“Do you believe me?”

“About Captain Ukitake?”

Yoruichi-san nods.

Byakuya chews his lip. “My grandfather,” he says quietly,“told me my father was going to get better. I don’t know if I can believeanyone, when they say things like that.”

Yoruichi-san nods again. “Makes sense,” she says, and herwords are harsh enough that they catch Byakuya by surprise. “I’m not reallyinto lying to kids, though. If that helps.”

Byakuya sets his jaw and crosses his arms. “I’m not a kid,”he tells Yoruichi-san.

She smiles, as if Byakuya has said something amusing.“Right,” she says. “Silly me - of course you’re not.” With that, Yoruichi-sanwithdraws her hands from Byakuya’s shoulders, and stands back up. She doesn’ttower over him now, not exactly, but Byakuya still finds himself standingbegrudgingly in her shadow. He hopes that he will grow to be taller than her,one day. Perhaps he’ll grow to be tall like Captain Ukitake, he thinks. That,Byakuya decides, would be very nice indeed.

“I should go home,” Byakuya says. “My grandfather will beangry if I’m gone much longer.”

“Want me to come with you?” Yoruichi-san asks. “Keep youcompany for a little while?” Her eyes glint mischievously. “I can give your grandpaa piece of my mind if he gets in your shit when you get home.”

Despite himself, Byakuya feels a smile tugging at his lips. “No,”he says, “that’s quite all right, Yoruichi-san. Thank you.”

“Any time, Byakuya-bō.”Yoruichi-san tips her head to Byakuya in a casual gesture of farewell. “Anytime. You got that?”

Byakuyanods. He understands what she means, and in truth, he is grateful. “Gotit,” he says, and with that, he turns around and runs, feeling very fast andvery free, down the cobbled streets of the Seireitei, making his way back tothe place he calls his home.

—

Two months pass, and summer slowly gives way to autumn. Byakuyaspends as much time as he can outside, basking in the last vestiges of seasonalwarmth and working industriously at his swordsmanship technique, masteringmaneuvers and perfecting his form. He twists lithely from position to position,fancying that he looks elegant and deadly like a real soldier, but knowing thathe probably looks clumsy and silly - not like a boy, because Byakuya is surelytoo big and strong to be called a boy anymore,but like an amateur. Byakuya does not want to be an amateur. He wants to be amaster, someone to be envied and mimicked and admired.

It takes practice to become a master, Byakuya knows.

And so, tirelessly, Byakuya practices.

The sun rises and sets every day, and every day, Byakuyafinds himself less and less offended by the beauty that comes with thesecelestial markers of passing time. He stomachs what little of his grief andfear remain, and he applies himself to his work, and he tries his best not tothink very much, or feel very deeply.

One evening, as the sun is starting to sink below thehorizon and Byakuya, as ever, is wielding his wooden practice sword in thegardens with tireless arms and dauntless sprit. He makes his diligent waythrough a series of moves that he’s only just recently mastered, and then hedrops his hands, and he hangs his head, and he lets is sweat drip down into hisface, reveling in the dual stings of exertion in his arms and of sharp, saltyliquid in his eyes.

A hand, heavy and gentle, drops onto Byakuya’s shoulder.

Byakuya starts. He whips around, and he is about to admonishthis newcomer for daring to be so bold -

And then, Byakuya finds himself horribly glad that his faceis drenched in sweat. Perhaps, he thinks dimly, it will hide the tears thatbegin to spill from his eyes.

Captain Ukitake, face aglow with health and eyes bright withgood humor, grins. “Remind me,” he says, “to show you a thing or two about wieldinga blade in your non-dominant hand. Your form could use some work, I’m afraid.”

#byakuya #ukitake #byauki #yoruichi #fanfic #bleach fanfic #fanfic meme #del writes things #Anonymous

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jontracy · 7 years

Note

3. "I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid." With Gordon and Alan? :O I love your writing so much

It was a rare morning that Alan came downstairs to find the living areas of the villa empty. Grandma was almost always up before everyone else, using the time to read or dust or think up new culinary concoctions with which to torture her grandsons. Scott was also an early riser, getting up at an ungodly hour to work out and deal with Tracy Industries or IR business. Even Virgil was known to rise with the sun every once in a while; something about there being some golden hour that was perfect for art.

That morning though, Alan was alone when he stumbled down to the kitchen. It took his sleep-addled brain a long minute to remember that Scott had taken Grandma to her 55th college reunion, Virgil and Brains were at an engineering conference in Switzerland, and Kayo was in Chicago, teaching a self-defense class to two dozen teenage schoolgirls.

Which meant that, for the first time in Tracy family history, the Tinies had the island to themselves.

As the realization dawned, Alan did the only reasonable thing that could be expected: he raced up to Gordon’s room and let himself in, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Rise and shine, my partner in crime! We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

The Gordon-shaped lump under the mound of blankets on the bed just let out a muffled groan. Alan frowned and turned on the lights. There was a slightly more disgruntled sounding groan. A tuft of messy blond hair was the only sign of Gordon still visible.

“C’mon, this is no day to sleep in!” Alan declared, marching forward to grab the edge of the blankets. “We- Jesus.”

He blinked down at the pitiful sight he’d unearthed. Gordon’s face was the color of moldy milk, save for the bright spots on his cheeks and his inflamed nose. His lips were chapped and slightly parted, his breath audible as an unhealthy whistle. His blue and green pajama shirt was stuck to his torso with sweat.

“Are you dead?” Alan asked.

“Yep.” Geez, even Gordon’s voice sounded like crap. “Throw me a nice funeral.”

“I don’t think people throw funerals.”

“Then they’re clearly not doing it right.” Gordon finally cracked an eye open to peer at Alan. It was bloodshot and watery. “It’s been nice knowing you, bro.”

Alan sighed, mentally shifting gears. Not how he’d expected this day to go, but hey; part of being a member of International Rescue meant that you had to learn to adapt to your situation.

“Don’t go getting mushy on me now,” he said. “If you die, who’s gonna help me switch the labels on all of Virgil’s paint bottles?” He pulled the covers the rest of the way off Gordon. “Come on. If I’m gonna take care of you, it’s not gonna be in this cesspool.”

Gordon’s room always had the unfortunate tendency to smell like feet and seaweed, and that was before you even considered the biohazard disaster that was its actual contents.

“Or you could just leave me here to die,” Gordon suggested.

Alan rolled his eyes. Instead of arguing further, he just leaned in and dug his fingers into the sensitive spot on Gordon’s side. Gordon let out a noise like a drunk ferret getting run over, and toppled out of his bed. Alan grabbed him before he could hit the floor, and dragged him upright and out of the room, grimacing as he realized just how sweaty his brother really was. But he was committed by then, so he persisted in hauling Gordon to the main room, where he deposited him on the couch.

He liked to think that when Gordon opened his mouth, it was for the express purpose of thanking Alan for being the world’s best and most thoughtful little brother, but he would never know, because instead of words coming out, Gordon released the wettest, most violent sneeze that Alan had ever had the misfortune to be standing in front of.

“Ew, dude!” Alan complained, recoiling and wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

“I did tell you to leave me,” Gordon said, grabbing a pillow and curling his body around it, the picture of misery. “Just save yourself. It’s too late for me.”

Alan gazed skyward, searching for strength. They clearly weren’t going to get anywhere without some kind of chemical intervention.

“Stay put, Mr. Melodramatic,” Alan ordered, before setting off for the medical facility buried within Tracy Island.

When he returned with a box of tissues and a bottle of the cold and flu medicine that Scott always gave him when he was sick, it was to find Gordon shivering and sounding for all the world like he was trying to cough up one or both of his lungs.

Alan winced in sympathy. Gordon may have been melodramatic, but he also really was miserable.

“Here,” Alan said, holding out the bottle. “This has always helped me. I just need to find the little dose dispenser thing-” he broke off and watched in morbid fascination as Gordon snatched the bottle and chugged half of its contents in a single swig. “Uh…”

Gordon made a face and sneezed again. And again.

“It’s not working,” he said.

Alan snatched the bottle back before Gordon could drink any more of it. He studied the ingredient list, wondering just how likely it was that today was going to involve a flight to the nearest emergency room or poison control center. He couldn’t make sense of any of the active ingredients listed though. Most of them sounded like diseases themselves.

So he retreated to the loft, where he could keep an eye on Gordon without being within earshot, and pulled up his personal comm.

John answered about two microseconds after he called.

“What’s wrong?” he asked before Alan could get so much as a word out. “Scott can be there in less than an hour. There are fire extinguishers in-”

“Whoa, hey,” Alan protested, raising a hand. He glared suspiciously at his brother. “Have you just been sitting around waiting for something to go wrong?”

John flushed slightly, but raised an eyebrow.

“So nothing’s wrong?” he asked, skeptical.

“Well…nothing is on fire,” Alan said. “Geez, I’m not five.”

“No, but historically, when you and Gordon are left to your own devices, there are casualties.”

Alan wanted to argue, but realized that may not have been an unfair assessment. He shook his head, switching tacks.

“Whatever. We’re behaving. Now, don’t let this question alarm you, but hypothetically speaking, how much of that nasty kind of cold medicine is too much?”

John’s eyebrows nearly got lost in his hairline.

“Alan-”

“Hypothetically.”

John just shook his head with a sigh.

“All right, hypothetically, do you see the little cap that comes with the bottle?”

“Yeah.”

“One capful is an adult dose.”

Yeah, Alan had been afraid of that.

John must have read his expression correctly, because he went on.

“But if someone were, hypothetically, to take too much, they wouldn’t be in any real danger. But there would be some side effects that someone keeping a very close eye on them would have to be prepared for.”

“What kind of side effects?”

“Do you remember when Virgil got his wisdom teeth out?”

Alan’s eyes widened.

“Oh, God.”

John smirked.

“Have fun,” he said. “Call me if you need anything. I can be down there in twenty minutes.”

He disappeared. Alan leaned over the loft railing to give Gordon a dubious look. His brother blinked benignly back at him. Alan wondered how long it would take for the medication to take effect.

He returned to the main floor and perched on the edge of one of the couches, facing Gordon.

“Dude, why are you staring at me?” Gordon asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, I’m just waiting for you to start crying about the fact that penguins don’t get to know what it’s like to fly, like Virgil did when he was doped up on painkillers.”

“Oh, come on. This stuff isn’t that strong,” Gordon said, grabbing the bottle of medicine from where Alan had left it. He peered down at it for a long moment, thoughtful. “It says it’s Arctic Berry flavored,” he observed. His expression pinched. “Do berries even grow in the arctic? Wouldn’t they need hats? Who makes all the little berry hats, Alan?”

He stared earnestly at Alan, who could do nothing but stare back for a moment. Well, that hadn’t taken long.

When it became clear that Gordon was actually waiting for an answer, Alan managed, “I don’t know, Gords. Maybe they grow them in greenhouses and they don’t need hats at all.”

“Oh. That’s nice. I don’t like the cold.” Gordon looked down at the bottle again. “I wonder what Arctic Berries smell like.”

He raised the bottle to his nose, and a wet gurgling sound commenced. It sounded like a vacuum cleaner trying to suck up wet concrete. Gordon’s face started to turn purple as he continued to try to inhale through nasal passages that were just having none of it.

“Okay, how ‘bout we table that question till you can breathe?” Alan suggested, taking the bottle from Gordon again.

Gordon stared forlornly after it as Alan set it aside.

“I don’t think I would grow well in the arctic,” he decided, the words carrying the weight of a life-altering revelation.

“Well, it doesn’t look like you grew well in the tropics, either.”

Alan wished Gordon were with it enough to appreciate that one. He thought about calling John back just to share, but John would probably just shake his head in disappointment.

Alan looked at his brother critically. He wasn’t used to being on this side of illnesses. Whenever one of the brothers got sick, Scott or Virgil were usually the ones to take care of them. But Alan had been through enough cold and flu seasons to know the drill. He could do this.

“So, Gordon, do you want to go back to sleep?” he asked, hopeful. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Gordon frowned.

“Why, what’s wrong with me?” he asked.

“You mean aside from the fact that you look like Dr. Frankenstein hasn’t gotten around to bringing you back to life yet?”

Gordon clapped his hands to his neck.

“Am I gonna start growing bolts?” he demanded in a horrified whisper.

Alan was utterly nonplussed, until he remembered that Gordon had always been a movie purist, and he liked the original version of the Frankenstein movie, cheesy monster effects and all. Well, Alan could work with that.

“Only if you don’t take a nap,” he said.

Gordon threw himself down at once, shutting his eyes. Alan blinked, surprised that it had worked so quickly. He watched Gordon cautiously for a moment, waiting for…what, he wasn’t quite sure.

When nothing happened, he sat down again a safe distance from Gordon’s cloud of germs and grabbed his tablet from where he’d left it the night before. He pulled up his favorite video game and started playing. He didn’t know what John had looked so amused about; this was gonna be easy.

“Won’t being asleep make it easier for Frankenstein to find me?”

Or not.

Alan sighed and looked up at Gordon, whose eyes were wide open now. He’d managed to curl his body up into a ball that fit on just one sofa cushion, his arms wrapped around his knees in a death grip as if he were afraid that any protruding limbs would be summarily eaten.

“Nope,” Alan told him. “He’s like the reverse Santa Claus. He knows when you’re sleeping, and he doesn’t come then. Your snoring scares him off.”

This only served to petrify Gordon further.

“But I don’t snore, Alan!” he cried. “So he won’t get scared away!”

Alan stared at his brother, dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?” he demanded. “You sound like a category 3 earthquake when you sleep, healthy. You might actually cause an earthquake with your nose all plugged up.”

Gordon looked affronted.

“That’s not true!” he protested, sniffing (or trying to) and turning his head away. But then he froze.

“I told you!” he hissed, barely moving his lips. “He didn’t know, and now he’s here for me!”

“…What?”

Gordon raised a trembling hand to point. Alan followed the direction of his finger. His eyebrow rose.

“Gordon, that’s Scott,” he said, slowly. “His picture has always been there.”

Gordon flashed him a derisive look.

“Yeah, right,” he said. “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.” He froze again, and then rounded on Alan. “Are you working with him?” he asked, his eyes glistening at the thought of his brother’s betrayal.

“With Scott?” Alan asked. “Depends on the day. Gordon, you’re safe. Dr. Frankenstein isn’t gonna get you. Neither is Scott, for that matter.”

Which, naturally, was the exact moment Scott chose to check on his youngest brothers.

“Hey, Alan, John told me-” Scott’s projected image broke off abruptly as a bloodcurdling scream rent the air.

Scott and Alan watched in varying levels of bemusement as Gordon continued to shriek at the top of his lungs as he scrambled over the back of the couch and went to hide under Dad’s desk.

Wordlessly, Scott turned his eyes on Alan, who felt his face heat.

“So, hypothetically…”

#Alan Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Thunderbirds Are Go #Thunderbirds fanfiction #sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind av but i had a blast writing it #i might even add to it a little before i post it on ao3 #my writing #wonderavian #tinies

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jam2289 · 5 years

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On Resentment as the Path to Destruction

Resentment is the most destructive emotion. It seems like hate and anger might be, or jealousy. But, notice that all of these things spring from resentment. Resentment is the underlying foundation that fuels these other destructive emotions. Let's take a quick look at six demonstrations.

Aesop created some fables 2,600 years ago. Those stories are still popular. That's impressive. "The Fox and the Grapes" deals directly with resentment. There are many versions, here's one.

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ONE hot summer’s day a Fox was strolling through an orchard till he came to a bunch of Grapes just ripening on a vine which had been trained over a lofty branch. “Just the things to quench my thirst,” quoth he. Drawing back a few paces, he took a run and a jump, and just missed the bunch. Turning round again with a One, Two, Three, he jumped up, but with no greater success. Again and again he tried after the tempting morsel, but at last had to give it up, and walked away with his nose in the air, saying: “I am sure they are sour.”

“IT IS EASY TO DESPISE WHAT YOU CANNOT GET.”

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The story of Cain and Abel is 6,000 years old, maybe quite a bit older than that. It also perfectly addresses resentment as the path to destruction.

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1Now Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived and bore Cain, saying, “I have gotten a man with the help of the LORD.” 2And again, she bore his brother Abel. Now Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain a worker of the ground. 3In the course of time Cain brought to the LORD an offering of the fruit of the ground, 4and Abel also brought of the firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions. And the LORD had regard for Abel and his offering, 5but for Cain and his offering he had no regard. So Cain was very angry, and his face fell. 6The LORD said to Cain, “Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? 7If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it.”

8Cain spoke to Abel his brother. And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him. 9Then the LORD said to Cain, “Where is Abel your brother?” He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” 10And the LORD said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground. 11And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. 12When you work the ground, it shall no longer yield to you its strength. You shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth.” 13Cain said to the LORD, “My punishment is greater than I can bear. 14Behold, you have driven me today away from the ground, and from your face I shall be hidden. I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth, and whoever finds me will kill me.” 15Then the LORD said to him, “Not so! If anyone kills Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold.” And the LORD put a mark on Cain, lest any who found him should attack him. 16Then Cain went away from the presence of the LORD and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden.

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These stories point out important truths about the world. Specifically, they show how resentment develops and what it leads to. Here are some definitions of resentment.

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a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as a wrong, insult, or injury

to dislike or be angry at something or someone because you have been hurt or not treated fairly

the feeling of displeasure or indignation at some act, remark, person, etc., regarded as causing injury or insult

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The Fox was resentful, and so was Cain. The Fox was rejected and denied by the grapes, Cain was rejected and denied by God. Then, naturally, they had hate. What do you think would have happened if the Fox had seen someone else eating and enjoying the grapes? I'm guessing bloody things, just like Cain. What follows are historical examples of the same thing in action: the Columbine shooters, Timothy McVeigh, the Unabomber, Hitler, and Panzram.

For instance, the Columbine shooters were pretty straight forward about why they did what they did. They wanted to destroy the world because in their eyes the world sucked. So, they tried to create the greatest spectacle of destruction that they could imagine pulling off. The plan was much worse than the actual event. They killed 13 people, if they did what they had planned to do they would have killed hundreds.

Eric Harris had long posts on his website where he listed what he loved and what he hated. Here are a couple of examples.

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YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE!!?

---When people mispronounce words!and they dont even know it to, like ofTen, or acrosT, or eXspreso, pacific (specific), or 2 pAck, learn to speak correctly you morons.

YOU KNOW WHAT I LOVE!!?

---Natural SELECTION!!!!! God damn its the best thing that ever happened to the Earth. Getting rid of all the stupid and weak orginisms........but its all natural! YES!I wish the government would just take off every warning label. So then all the dumbasses would either severely hurt themselves or DIE! And boom, no more dumbasses. heh.

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There's some resentment showing through there. These two entries were some of the nicest ones. His partner Dylan Klebold was a completely different personality, but they had resentment in common. Here are some of his journal entries.

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Fact: People are so unaware... well, Ignorance is bliss I guess... that would explain my depression.

I swear -- like I'm an outcast, & everyone is conspiring against me...

The lonely man strikes with absolute rage.

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Now, obviously these kids had other problems too. One was a psychopath and the other had a psychotic break. But, resentment was the driving force.

They are not alone. Here's a disturbing chain of events. The massacre at Ruby Ridge led to the massacre at Waco. The massacre at Waco directly led to the Oklahoma City bombing. The Oklahoma City bombing was an inspiration for the Columbine shooters. An evil chain of events. Here are a few selections from the letters of Timothy McVeigh.

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I chose to bomb a federal building because such an action served more purposes than other options. Foremost the bombing was a retaliatory strike; a counter attack for the cumulative raids (and subsequent violence and damage) that federal agents had participated in over the preceding years (including, but not limited to, Waco). From the formation of such units as the FBI's Hostage Rescue and other assault teams amongst federal agencies during the 80s, culminating in the Waco incident, federal actions grew increasingly militaristic and violent, to the point where at Waco, our government - like the Chinese - was deploying tanks against its own citizens.

When the post-inferno investigations and inquiries by the Executive and Legislative branches of government concluded that the federal government had done nothing fundamentally wrong during the raid of the Branch Davadians at Waco, the system not only failed the victims who died during that siege but also failed the citizens of this country. This failure in effect left the door open for more Wacos.

Some time after the fact they received awards, bonus pay and in some cases promotions for their disgusting and inhumane actions at Waco and Ruby Ridge.

It was in this climate then, that I reached the decision to go on the offensive - to put a check on government abuse of power where others has failed in stopping the federal juggernaut run amok.

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You can see that this thinking is quite a bit different than the Columbine shooters. Harris and Klebold resented the world in general. Harris for everyone being stupid and having no worth or value. Klebold for being a rejected outcast. They chose the closest, easiest, and most brutal target they could think of. McVeigh resented the US government specifically and made his choice for that reason. Cain resented the person that was getting what he thought he deserved, and God. The Fox resented what he couldn't get.

This is not a fun article to write, I've kind of emotionally exhausted myself at this point by even paying attention to all of these evil thoughts and deeds. But, it's important to see the bad and how it works so that we can both avoid it and seek the good. I only have three more examples to go.

Theodore Kaczynski was a math prodigy that went to Harvard at age 16. While there he was put into a psychology experiment that he was lied to about. He had to develop essays on his personal life philosophy. Then he was subjected to military style interrogation techniques specifically designed to mentally break enemy combatants and spies. This experiment went on for 3 years. The records of all of that were purposefully destroyed to keep them secret from the public, but I think we can get a pretty clear idea of what the essays were about from the Unabomber's manifesto that he wrote later in life. Here are several selections.

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1. The Industrial Revolution and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race. They have greatly increased the life-expectancy of those of us who live in “advanced” countries, but they have destabilized society, have made life unfulfilling, have subjected human beings to indignities, have led to widespread psychological suffering (in the Third World to physical suffering as well) and have inflicted severe damage on the natural world. The continued development of technology will worsen the situation. It will certainly subject human beings to greater indignities and inflict greater damage on the natural world, it will probably lead to greater social disruption and psychological suffering, and it may lead to increased physical suffering even in “advanced” countries.

59. We divide human drives into three groups: (1) those drives that can be satisfied with minimal effort; (2) those that can be satisfied but only at the cost of serious effort; (3) those that cannot be adequately satisfied no matter how much effort one makes. The power process is the process of satisfying the drives of the second group. The more drives there are in the third group, the more there is frustration, anger, eventually defeatism, depression, etc.

60. In modern industrial society natural human drives tend to be pushed into the first and third groups, and the second group tends to consist increasingly of artificially created drives.

178. Whatever else may be the case, it is certain that technology is creating for human beings a new physical and social environment radically different from the spectrum of environments to which natural selection has adapted the human race physically and psychologically. If man is not adjusted to this new environment by being artificially re-engineered, then he will be adapted to it through a long and painful process of natural selection. The former is far more likely than the latter.

179. It would be better to dump the whole stinking system and take the consequences.

211. In the late Middle Ages there were four main civilizations that were about equally “advanced”: Europe, the Islamic world, India, and the Far East (China, Japan, Korea). Three of those civilizations remained more or less stable, and only Europe became dynamic. No one knows why Europe became dynamic at that time; historians have their theories but these are only speculation. At any rate, it is clear that rapid development toward a technological form of society occurs only under special conditions. So there is no reason to assume that a long-lasting technological regression cannot be brought about.

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The Unabomber was resentful about all of science and technology. He's written several books specifically on this.

Lastly, we have Adolf Hitler. The entire story of Hitler is filled with all kinds of resentment. On a larger scale we have the surrender of Germany in WW1. This was seen by the German army as a betrayal by the government officials. The signers of the Armistice were called "The November Criminals." The Nazis promoted this idea and said that it was the Jews that had stabbed the nation in the back to take power. This is called the stab-in-the-back myth today.

Then, there were a bunch of war reparations imposed on Germany. They had traditional German land taken, they had to pay billions of dollars in damages, they suffered a hyperinflationary economy, and had severe restrictions on a bunch of other things. To a large extent resentment was the fuel behind all of WW2.

But, let's just look at Hitler the man. It's commonly known that he wanted to go to art school when he was young. He used his inheritance from his dead father to move to Vienna. He applied to the art institute in Vienna twice, and was twice denied. He was told he was good at drawing and painting buildings, but he lacked talent in representing the human form. During this time his mother was dying of cancer. He made a poor living trying to sell his art. Some of his friends, his art dealer, and some of his patrons were Jews at this time. After that he joined the army and fought in WW1, then went into politics. But, he never let go of art. Here's a quote from Hitler in 1939 from the "British War Blue Book".

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I am an artist and not a politician. Once the Polish question is settled, I want to end my life as an artist.

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A resentful and rejected artist, plus a resentful generation of army veterans, plus a resentful national populace equals WW2.

I think all of this clearly shows the dangers of resentment at multiple levels and across different contexts. There is value in the real-life stories, but I think the pure stories are more valuable for a couple of reasons. One, they are less depressing to think about and research. Two, they are a hyperreality, meaning that they select what is important and leave out what is not. With the real-life stories there is just too much information, it's overwhelming. We can see that the same principles apply, but it's much easier to see in "The Fox and the Grapes" and "Cain and Abel" rather than in the other examples. Three, there is a little detachment in the stories. You can get a better perspective because they are less real. This helps you to clearly see what is happening, how it's happening, and why. In the real-life stories important points can be lost in the details.

I've heard it said so many times that no one can know why these horrible things are done. That just isn't true. It's very easy to know why horrible things are done. It's very easy to know how these people think. It's fairly easy to find out why they did what they did and what motivated them. Most people just don't want to know, and hey, fair enough. It's not fun. But, self-deception is a dangerous thing. It's important to realize that we are all susceptible to resentment. And, that's a problem that has to be dealt with on the inside, in the attitudes and views that we take towards the world. These attitudinal values are the most important values.

Most of us let our resentment become some sort of passive aggressiveness, mostly resulting in snide comments. This is a lot better than violence, but it's walking down the wrong road and is sure to lead to nothing good. Others run rather than walk down that road. One last example, here are some excerpts from the letters of Carl Panzram.

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After serving about 2 years there I was pronounced by the parole board to be a nice, clean boy of good morals, as pure as lily and a credit to those in authority in the istatution where I had been sent to be reformed. Yes sure I was reformed all right, damn good and reformed too. When I got out of there I knew all about Jesus and the bible so much so that I knew it was all a lot of hot air. But that wasn’t all I knew. I had been taught by christians how to be a hypocrite and I had learned more about stealing, lying, hating, burning and killing. I had learned that a boys penis could be use for something besides to urinate with and that a rectum could be use for other purposes than crepitating. Oh yes I had learned a hell of a lot, from my expert instructors furnished to me free of charge by society in general and the state of Minnesota in particular. From the treatment I received while there and the lessons I learned from it, I had fully desided when I left there just how I would live my life. I made up my mind that I would rob, burn, destroy and kill every where I went and everybody I could as long as I lived. That’s the way I was reformed in the Minnesota State Training School. Thats the reasons why.

If you or any one else will take the trouble and have the inteligence and paitince to follow and examine every one of my crimes and actions you will find that I have consistently followed one idea thru all my life. I preyed upon the weak the harmless or unsuspecting. Those I have harmed were all either weaklings either mentaly or phisicaly. Those who were strong in either mind or body I first lied to and led into a trap where they were either asleep or drunk or helpless in some way. I always had all the best of it, because I knew ahead of time just what to expect and the others did not. I therefore was strong in my knolledge and stronger in body than those preyed upon. This lesson I was taught by others. Might makes right.

You know that I spent several years in one of those places [reform school] when I was a boy and the so called Training that I recieved while there is mainly the cause of my being the degenerate beast that I am today. I have thought about that system of Training young boys for all of my life and I know that the whole system is wrong. That system of beating goodness, religion and Jesus into boys in the 99 times out of 100 has the direct opposite effect of taking all of the goodness, kindness and love out of them and then replacing those with hate, envy deciete, tyrany and every other kind of meaness there is.

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You see the same type of pattern here. Now, I'm not giving a solution to resentment here. What I'm saying is that it's important. It's an important problem to confront and overcome, lest we become overwhelmed by it. We cannot ignore this type of problem, but we can seek to understand it and do something about it by changing ourselves. By knowing about evil we can learn to avoid it and to seek the good.

(In the book "Moral Disengagement: How People Do Harm and Live With Themselves" Albert Bandura breaks down the eight mechanisms that allow people to do these types of things. But, for today, I'm done with this subject. Maybe that's a topic for another time.)

________________________________________________

You can find more of what I'm doing at http://www.JeffreyAlexanderMartin.com

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shenmeizhuang-blog · 7 years

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legend of the dragon pearl: the indistinguishable road – midway musings

(This is a 90-episode drama, so at this point, I’m really up to Ep 45. Exactly, right smack in the middle of this show.)

Yes, that’s right – in order to retain the greatest accuracy and objectivity, I resisted temptation with three released episodes left unwatched – all for the sake of this post and you, the readers.

JUST KIDDING! It turns out that in the case of Longzhu (the pinyin of this show’s [shortened] native name, as the full title, 龙珠传奇之无间道, is a bit too cumbersome), wherever I stop to provide “commentary” really doesn’t matter. In fact, in trying (admittedly not very hard) to write this post, it became apparent that the best meta viewers can create for this is either live-blogging or the snarkiest recaps ever. Because let’s be real – there’s really nothing to analyze or synthesize at all (yet? Eh, I highly doubt so.)

So, of course, I’m doing neither. Let’s start from the basics. From what I’ve gathered, the “plot” is something like this (maybe?):

SYNOPSIS: Lots of weird mix-ups happen, resulting in a Ming Dynasty princess with a terminal illness (supposedly curable by the emperor’s tears) with no idea of her real identity and betrothed to a fake Crown Prince entering the Forbidden City to help this secret organization overthrow the Qing Dynasty. Naturally, she and the young Emperor Kangxi fall in love, but, 45 episodes into the show, apparently not yet, because everyone is stuck dealing with corrupt officials both in the palace and in the countryside.

Comments and comparisons on the web have revealed this as essentially really this weird mash-up of Princess Huai Yu (identity and love-line with Kangxi), Mischievous Princess (fallen princess + wild personality & young emperor + attempting to overthrow the new dynasty), and The Duke of Mountain Deer or The Deer and the Cauldron (anti-Qing organization, (b)romance with Kangxi, finding some key treasure, helping Kangxi defeat Oboi). But since I’m a relatively newer drama watcher who hasn’t seen these shows at all, I’ll give the scriptwriter the benefit of the doubt and accredit these plot points and bits of humor to the writer herself (spoilers and lots of roasting below the cut):

To be brutally straightforward: Longzhu is really a visceral mess. If I really bothered to pick out all the show’s flaws and plot holes, I would have more than enough material to write my own 90-episode drama. But from basic things from the questionable costuming (see: our protagonist Li Yihuan’s fugly “prostitute” outfit, the concubines’ hairstyles, or really overall a clear low budget) and shaky execution to ridiculous mistakes such as thinking Oboi’s (鳌拜) last name is “鳌” or “O” (lmao…), even when he’s clearly part of a prominent Manchurian clan under the Eight Banners (I’m especially sensitive about historical accuracy when it comes to the Qing Dynasty), or just the very many plot holes riddled everywhere, I must say I’ve dropped better shows.

(There’s also the matter of watching The Firmament of the Pleiades alongside this, which definitely highlights a lot more flaws than usual. For one, both shows deal with a young emperor trying to assume full power, but the way either show deals with such really speaks measures of the genre differences.)

Another thing that’s been nagging me for the longest time is: why go with this plan – training these kids lots of weird stuff like espionage – at all, instead of mobilizing the masses? Why endanger important people like the Crown Prince in this “dangerpous plan”? If Zhu Cixuan is so smart, why would he so easily display his amazing medicinal abilities, rather than display himself as “good enough to become an imperial doctor, but not the best” to avoid suspicion? Why hasn’t there been suspicion?

So what’s the saving grace? Throughout the sometimes decently interesting “missions” our leads, or the recruits of the secret anti-Qing organization 明珠谷, accept, there are indeed moments of hilarity.

There’s no denying it; it’s a nice show to get a good laugh out of, be it from sheer stupidity or mostly Yihuan’s quirky and adorable persona.

The plot goes by both quickly and frankly nowhere, making each episode easy to breeze past without much thought; given the amount that I fast-forward through, I tend to watch it 5 or 6 episodes at a time. Frankly, the show should be grateful that my Chinese is decent enough/the language is simple enough that I can watch this at 1.5x and 2x speed, because otherwise I’d definitely be dropping this. I think. I guess the producers and promoters really didn’t have high expectations for this, either – they’re actually dropping 12 episodes at once for Premium Youku and Tencent Video users every Sunday, which I find a strange format.

Even so, I’m still not quite sure how this is supposed to be 90 episodes. Although, since Princess Huai Yu was apparently 105 episodes long, maybe, just maybe, it’ll all work out.

Yet already Longzhu is showing signs of some dragginess – I guess out of ideas after the whole initial set-up and Oboi arc, the writer decided to pull a In The Name of the People and have our characters leave the palace in disguise and deal with corrupt officials in the countryside … for the freaking past 20 episodes, and judging from the YouTube thumbnails, it’s not going for a while. (I know the show is trying to depict Kangxi as this super awesome emperor who really cares for the well-being of the common people, and does crazy things like copy Buddhist scriptures with his own blood to end a drought, and honestly this was never going to be a good palace drama, so it’s not too bad, I guess.)

Of course, throughout all this, we have this complex love heptagon thing with multiple “enemies-to-lovers” relationships, as typical when dealing with people from two different dynasties. There’s been lots of tension and character interactions presented throughout the stupid plot, but weirdly it feels that everyone is pretty much still at square one, with honestly little meaningful development. (When was this show ever about meaningful development?)

(Oh wait, I think I was supposed to talk about this show’s strengths and ended up roasting it again.)

Easily the best thing about Longzhu is the cast’s solid acting and wonderful chemistry – given the mostly flatly written characters, actors for the corrupt officials such as Oboi, Liu Dezhao, and Qiu Gui have managed to give memorable, even adorable, performances. Even very minor roles, such as the suffering peasants, are portrayed with admirable nuance, despite some of their really stupidly made-up names.

Of course, I am largely fond of the leads. From real-life couple Yang Zi (portraying protagonist Li Yihuan) and Qin Jun Jie (Emperor Kangxi)’s sizzling chemistry, as well as Qin Jun Jie’s hilarious and intense expressions, to **Mao Zi Jun **(fake Crown Prince Zhu Cixuan)’s charisma (is that him looking ridiculously hot in the Qing hairstyle? I think I under-appreciated his beautiful face in The Glory of Tang Dynasty, but here I’m half-drooling) and Shu Chang’s phenomenal acting in differentiating (probably long-lost twins) Shu Wanxin and Xue Qincheng, this drama easily fits into the “great cast and acting but trash plot” category. (Also kudos to He Zhonghua for masterfully portraying long-lost twins Li Dingguo and Li De Fu (Eunuch Li), characters who frankly couldn’t be more different.)

(And, yeah, Allen Ren cameos in this…for like ten minutes…)

Combined with my fondness for the actors, the characterization is overall likable (Kangxi might be a bit too pushy and clearly doesn’t really get boundaries – typical of royalty – but I like how he’s motivated, though at times (like most characters in this show) prone to bouts of stupidity), with characters from both the Qing and anti-Qing largely rootable. I also adore certain side characters such as 索额图 and his nephew, so I actually haven’t resorted to looking for an OTP cut.

However, as likable as Yihuan is – I like the whole “jack of all trades, master of none” idea – I can’t help but complain about how Yang Zi seems to almost always be typecast into these sort of roles. Lu Xueqi in Noble Aspirations (Chusen) the notable exception, it seems that most of her roles – even Xiang Xiang from the critically acclaimed Battle of Changsha – are largely “quirky, immature, and adorable foodie with exaggerated expressions”. No one is involved in this production is particularly concerned by this, either – the official promotions actually call Yihuan the “ancient version of Qiu Yingying” (Yang Zi’s character in Ode To Joy).

Another problem is: given that the main appeal is Qin Jun Jie and Yang Zi’s relationship and strong chemistry, the show should know to service us with OTP moments, but apparently they’d rather show the characters dealing with corruption and a revenge plot-line that, frankly speaking, no cares about.

Then when I consider dropping this, they serve up fanservice of all kinds on a platter. The experience is something like:

Me: cringes at the off-putting execution

Longzhu: Look! An Allen Ren***** cameo!

Me: Yeah, I’m not relating with this who anti-Qing revenge plan. Maybe it would be better if I skipped these parts

Longzhu: But look at how likable these leads are!

Me: Okay, this is getting draggy

Longzhu: Hey, it’s a flashback featuring 李嗣兴 (re: RJL cameo)!

Me: They’ve been at this stupid corruption arc for so long; maybe I should drop this

Longzhu: K even though the OTP won’t be mutually admitting of their feelings for a while, it’s fine because we’ll drug them with an aphrodisiac! Then they can have an intense make-out scene!

(& etc.)

Despite being a very flawed show, I think I might actually watch all 90 episodes, and not just for the cast – it’s stupid and cliche (remember: based on the premise that the emperor’s tears can cure our heroine’s terminal illness), but somehow inherently likable and decently addictive. I guess…I’m looking forward to the angst and falling-out?

*****Allen Ren is this bundle of talent, cuteness, and extra-ness with super nice micro-expressions who also is probably the closest person to my bias.

#don't get me wrong i still like this show #sort of?#i'm being entertained #legend of the dragon pearl #legend of the dragon pearl: the indistinguishable road #legend of dragon pearl: the indistinguishable road #i'm laughing at how the official youtube channel is translating it to 'legend of the dragon ball'#龙珠传奇 #龙珠传奇之无间道 #commentary #long post #my commentary #a bit more of a roast #cdrama #cdramanet #yang zi #qin jun jie #mao zi jun #shu chang

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castaliareed · 7 years

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Lady and the Wolf - Pt. 2 A Light in the North Ch. 15 - Sansa

I have to remember to post these chapters here! Slowly getting these up along with the edits of the previous chapters and making audio versions! Oh and writing the series...

Sansa

Sansa woke to find the spot next to her on the bed empty. Already, training in the yard. Taking a few moments before rising, she buried herself deeper in the furs. It was not the cold that kept her in bed, the dreams had come again last night.

Before her and Jon had taken Winterfell, she dreamed of Lady, her direwolf, being killed by her Lord Father. Each time her Lord Father's face turned into Jon's and she woke before the knife came down. Lady was not resting in peace.

Another dream of Lady had started haunting Sansa's sleeping mind. The pretty young wolf was sitting in the middle of the courtyard. Yet, Sansa could not reach her as a dragon flew overhead spewing flames. Sometimes, she would find herself lifting off of the ground flying to meet the dragon. Except she was just a small bird, a little dove, or a snowy owl. She was no match for the massive dragon. As fire surrounding her home, she would find herself falling toward the ground. Leaving her awake in her bed terrified. The dreams happened most often when Jon left their bed early to train in the yard.

Sansa had given Brienne the task of helping her dig up the dead direwolf's bones in the lichyard. No easy task with the snowdrifts and frozen ground to contend with. Luckily, northerners had ways to dig through the icy ground. Once, Lady is moved, she thought, maybe we can both rest.

Pushing dreams and dead direwolves out of her mind, Sansa decided it was time to rise. She chose a dress of thick dark blue wool with gray fur linings embroidered with silver direwolves on the sleeves and hem. Leaving her hair lose, Sansa noticed how long it had grown. Before the Winter Light's Feast, she had trimmed it only to remove the frayed ends. Still, it had grown past the middle of her back. Some days she braided it or plaited it with two braids starting from the crown of her head and meeting in the back. Today, she decided to simply leave it all hanging lose giving her an untamed look. Gazing in the mirror, she thought the girl she had been when she first went to King's Landing would be shocked by the Northern woman she had become. That girl hadn't dreamt of her dead wolf. A sadness washed over Sansa, That girl was silly but innocent and so so young.

Once dressed, Sansa made her way to the battlements overlooking the castle yard. Watching the men train, was still something Sansa did most mornings or at least the mornings her and Jon did not lay in bed hiding from the world. Most mornings, he snuck out of her room at the first hint of a gray dawn. They must at least pretend to heed Lord Davos' constant warnings of servant gossip. We want them to gossip Sansa sighed as she watched the men practice in the yard. Following Jon's instructions, the men took turns fighting. Brienne also worked with them. Jon must be patient. Our Lords must think they know the truth before we tell them. We must find out who loves us and who is our enemy. If they believe we love each other they will not care that Jon is a Targaryen, I hope.

Glancing up towards the gray sky, Sansa noticed her snowy owl flying overhead. She smiled at the magical beautiful bird. Thought, how effortlessly it soared through the sky. A pang of sadness welled up in her as she again remembered her dream. Think of something else. Looking back down at the yard she tried to focus on Jon's movements. Willing herself to remember how he held her the night before. How warm his body felt pressed against hers. How she wanted to get lost in his sad dark eyes.

Deep in her thoughts, Sansa barely noticed Lady Dayne approach, her soft slow steps barely making a sound.

"Your grace, good morning," Lady Dayne's voice barely whispered.

"Lady Dayne, same to you." Sansa nodded politely. She did not know how to regard this mysterious lady who today wore a light gray-violet hood and cape that made her violet eyes shine like they were laughing. "You must be very strong to travel so far in winter. The North is so very much colder then Dorne or Essos. The journey from the Neck must have been very difficult."

"That it is your grace," the lady replied. "Though, I would not say I am strong and the journey is quite long." Sansa had seen how exhausted and wane Lady Dayne appeared since her arrival. She was often taken to her room.

Sansa had compassion for her, the North was not an easy land. "Please, Lady Dayne have our Maester look in on you. I will have a special hearty soup made just for you. Our Lady Mother always had it made for us when we needed strength."

"You are very kind, your grace," she nodded. "Though, your Maester does not attend council meetings. Or rarely leaves the rookery for that matter."

Sansa looked surprised at Ashara Dayne, For a woman that has been ill and hardly left her room, she certainly notices quite a lot.

"He was the Bolton's Maester brought from the Dreadfort. ..We have requested another to be sent as soon as possible," she answered seeing no reason to keep the simple truth from Lady Dayne. She did not need to add that soon might mean never if the Citadel did not agree with an independent North. Lady Dayne would understand well enough that a new Maester would depend very much on the Citadels opinion of Northern independence.

"A wise decision," commented the Dornish lady.

She added, "I am sure our current Maester is adequate at treating illness."

"One would hope, your grace," Lady Dayne said.

Sansa only smiled cooly at that. "I often like to visit the Godswood. Please, if you would join me, Lady Dayne."

"It would be my honor, your grace." The two woman began to walk along the battlements, toward the stairs making their way to the Godswood.

As they reached the entrance, Sansa grew bold, "I hear you have brought us news of the dragon queen?"

"I am not sure it is news, your grace. Merely a suggestion," peering from underneath her fur-trimmed hood, Lady Dayne looked a Sansa. The Queen felt Lady Dayne's violet eyes taking her in.

"A suggestion of an alliance, then." Sansa corrected herself. She watches us, she watches me. Does she see my mother in me? The woman that took my father from her.

"Yes, I suppose," was her only answer.

"One that benefits, Dorne and House Dayne?" Sansa asked. I must be direct with this lady. Show her there is nothing to hide. At least nothing to hide that she does not already know.

"I speak only for House Dayne's interests," she stated. "That Dorne is supporting Daenerys Targaryen is an additional reason for House Stark to forge an alliance." An additional reason for who? We do not know if this Mother of Dragons is a friend or an enemy. Most likely she is both. Lady Dayne must understand that just as much as I do.

"Why does she want it?" Sansa continued to question Lady Dayne. "Why does she want the Throne?" And why do you want her to have it? Or do you want her to have it?

"Why does the sun rise and the rain fall, your grace?" responded Lady Dayne.

"Nature, the gods," Sansa answered, "Maesters will tell you one thing. Septas and Septons another. The Old Gods tell us nothing."

"And which is right?" asked Lady Dayne just as they approached the weirwood tree in the center of the Godswood.

"The one people believe," Sansa answered. Lady Dayne looked at her curiously.

"As a girl, I wanted to be Queen. It was all I ever wanted," Sansa said as she stared away from the tree. "Not the Queen who sits on the Throne or rides dragons. I wanted to be Naerys who stands beside her king." It is what I was raised to be. To stand quietly beside someone. To always be gracious. To never play too rough.

"Naerys loved the Dragonknight not her king," said Ashara.

This made Sansa smile,"Yes, Aemon." The memory came to her suddenly as the women continued their walk in the Godwoods past the warm springs and cool pools. Sansa could almost hear the sound of children running through the wood. A dark-haired boy and little red-haired girl searching for a dragon. But we never played together. The memory came to her anyways. She could almost see herself and Jon splashing in the water in nothing but their small clothes. No, no that isn't right. I was never supposed to play like that, she thought pushing the vision out of her head.

"She chose to love Aemon above all else. Above her King, despite what anyone thought," Ashara Dayne said as she revisited the old story.

"She was forced to marry for political reasons. Separated from Aemon," Sansa continued looking away thinking of how unfair the world was, a world where Naerys could not choose her husband. Aemon would have been a better king then Aegon the Unworthy. Naerys a better ruler.

"Was she, though?" Ashara asked, "He joined the Kingsguard to be near her. As queen she held power. Her life was not easy but was not without merit, not without possibility?"

"As a Queen consort?" Sansa asked. "Standing next to a king silently while the man you love watches from a distance, what life is that?"

"I see," she said, "And now, you wish for something different. A different dream perhaps."

"My dreams, my dreams were silly dreams," Sansa answered flatly.

"Were they your grace?" asked Lady Dayne. "Seems like dreams many young girls have."

"They do not know," shaking her head, Sansa said. "They do not know what people will do to you to try to get near that power. To try to make you stand quietly. They will try to control you, destroy you, hurt you and everyone around you, highborn and low."

Lady Dayne nodded, "One could rule in their own right. As the Mother of Dragons seeks too," she said.

"Only fools wish to rule in their own right," Sansa again retorted.

"Then why did you take back your home. Why take back the North? If only fools would do such a thing," she asked the Queen.

"There was no other choice," Sansa said.

This brought a smile to Ashara Dayne's face, "Sounds like a woman who wants to rule, to me?"

The two women stood in silence. I wanted a family with little children in my home like the one I grew up in. The dark-haired boy and the little red-haired girl or maybe another that looks like Arya. Not secrecy, politics, peace, war, death, there is always death. Sansa looked over at Ashara Dayne who had taken a seat on a large tree root not covered by snow. She had begun to look exhausted again.

"It was you who wanted the North?" Ashara Dayne stated more than asked.

"Yes," Sansa answered.

"And all those things you wanted, the happy family, the peaceful people, all your girlhood memories, they do not come so easily do they?" asked Lady Dayne.

This woman reads my thoughts. "Winterfell is my home. The North my people. The Vale took me in," Sansa said. "I owe them that dream, I owe them happy families, peace,"

"And defeating the Boltons was as much for them as for yourself? " Lady Dayne asked.

Sansa only nodded slightly in agreement while Lady Dayne continued, "This dream will not come true while you stand alone. You cannot stand against Cersei alone, against the Others alone. The North cannot stand alone."

"It cannot." Sansa agreed, "It cannot stand alone. Yet, it must stand equal, Lady Dayne. We will not bend. Not again."

Lady Dayne looked out from her hood, Sansa could see a slight smile. "The North must stand equal or you must stand equal?" Ashara Dayne asked.

"Both," Sansa stated.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard running toward them. An out of breath Podrick soon appeared looking like a surprised deer. "Laaa..ddyy..I mean Qu...I mean Princess Sans...your grace.." he stammered while panting.

"Yes Pod?" Sansa said sweetly. "What is it?"

"His grace..." still panting Pod struggled more than usual to get the words out. "He he he...saaaid...well..he yelled..to bring youuu..at once. He said it must be at at at once."

"Of course Pod, I will come at once," she said before adding, "Run along and tell him I am coming." Turning to Lady Dayne, the Queen in the North made her apologies and thanked the Dornish woman for joining her adding that she would send the soup and the Maester later that day.

Following Podrick through the path in the Godswood, Sansa wondered what could be the meaning of this, the day has barely begun and already Jon wants to see me.

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