Here it is, the 2 Arms Left Collaboration Comic!
Big thank you to everyone who participated! This was such a cool project! There was so much talent put into this thing and I am amazed by the results
Enjoy the finished product everyone!
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The wonderful artists, in order of their panels appearance, go check them out!!
To help count without eyes getting lost, the people highlighted in orange were a part of the black and white flashback sequence!
1 @tangledinink
2 @roquog
3 @sunnyyyteaaa Sun!
4 @apollo-not-in-space
5 @wraenata
6 @abbeyofcyn
7 @dianagj-art
8 @rbtlvr
9 @vangh17a
10 @avidlylivid
11 @butterfilledpockets
12 @thegunnsara
13 @manga-toons
14 @idiot-mushroom
15 @centerofleesmind
16 @sunnyyyteaaa Tea!
17 @volcanicsleep
18 @phykoha
19 @princesskkfish
20 @cokowiii
21 @y0unginhumans
22 @bluesgras
23 @karmacomesaround
24 @heckitall
25 @sad-leon
26 @blue-star-doodles
27 @teainthesnow
28 @cartoonhostage
29 @hatchi-matchii
30 @last-hourglass
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I went into Ruth expecting a dreary read. How could a Victorian "fallen woman" story be anything other than dark and depressing? So I was shocked right from the beginning to find a sweet, gentle, romantic story. The dressmaker's apprentice who sits in the coldest, darkest part of the workroom because that's where there's a panel painted with flowers that remind her of her country home? How could I not adopt her as a favorite character? Ruth's innocent, romantic outlook on life gave us some beautiful descriptions of the scenery of both city and countryside, and my imagination went on overdrive to create very vivid images of the story. Even the love story, which we know is going to go very wrong, starts out sweet, with a kind, charming love interest who only shows flashes of just how wrong his character is going to go.
Even after Ruth's fall, the story is so gentle, putting Ruth among kind people who are willing to risk and sacrifice a lot to help her. And then the story gets almost too gentle--after some initial struggles with depression, Ruth resolves to bear her troubles patiently and work toward virtue, and her sweet, too-innocent character gets flattened out into someone who's just Good. Life just goes on, with things generally going well, and every potential turn toward drama results in someone deciding to be reasonable, which can make the story drag.
But, in a story like this, the lack of drama becomes the plot twist! It is refreshing to see characters who don't always jump to the worst conclusion or take the worst action, who pause and consider the whole story and act like decent human beings.
And in the places when the drama does kick in, it's good drama. Painful drama. It's also (especially in the last section of the story) melodrama. There were sections of the book where I was rolling my eyes at the cookie-cutter Victorian path the story was taking--but then there'd be one line or one moment that would just stab me in the chest because of how beautifully specific it was to this story. Just enough to elevate it from something bland to something unique and fascinating.
I often had the thought that this book could be about a third of its length without losing anything--yet it should also be just as long as it was. If the story cut all its repetitive musings about Ruth's regret, and used that space to develop the side characters and and show the plot instead of telling us about it, it would be a much deeper story. I found myself wishing Gaskell had reworked this one later in her career--the way that North and South was a more skillful reworking of the issues explored in Mary Barton. In a way, she sort of did in Wives and Daughters, with the story of Molly the quiet innocent getting tangled up in the intrigues surrounding her headstrong, flirtatious stepsister Cynthia serving as a more layered, personality-flipped version of the story where headstrong, sheltered Jemima gets tangled in the story of quiet, sweet Ruth and her past romantic intrigues. (The doctor at the end of the story also feels like a proto-Mr. Gibson).
Yet I'm still fascinated by the themes specific to this story. Contrary to expectation, this "fallen woman" story isn't about sex, or gender, or how unfairly women are treated (though it does touch on that in the end). It's about sin. It's not questioning why Ruth's behavior is considered a sin or looking to dismantle the society saying that it's a sin. It comes from the Christian perspective of saying that sin is real and harms people--so how are we going to deal with that?
The story shows lots of people struggling with temptation, failing, and dealing with the consequences (or harming others with the consequences). Sin is always a case of either not caring enough to do the more difficult, good thing, or a case of "the ends justify the means", where people rationalize their bad behavior as something necessary in this specific case. It always leads to harm, but some people--and some sins--suffer greater consequences in the eyes of the world, whether or not they deserve it. I wish the story had developed and resolved this theme better in places, but the raw material there is fascinating food for thought.
This book is Gaskell at her preachiest, but also Gaskell at her kindest. It explores deep, difficult issues in a very loving way. As a story, there are ways it could be better, but I'm very glad I read it. Perhaps I'm making a point to be kinder to it because I know it's the type of story that today's readers tend to judge harshly. But amid my issues with the story, there are some lovely images, some great messages, and some wonderful characters that going to be living in my heart for a long time.
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What's interesting about Dazai's mindset on his emotions is that he insists that his ability to foresee the future negates how he would feel when that moment arrives.
Foe example, on the moment where he tells Ango that he is not sad because he knew things would fall apart between them.
And yet, we see him follow Odasaku's wishes and has held some unresolved grudge against Ango.
We know how heavily he feels about Ango's betrayal and Odasaku's death. He has a far away look that happens a lot that Atsushi clocks on its frequency. When questioned, he deflects and acts like he isn't mourning the friendship that probably kept him going while in the PM.
It's like he's trapped as a kid denying his true emotions because someone told him that showing weakness is a mistake or will be met with disbelief.
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It's cold at night in the desert. The sky is clear, and there are thousands of stars to see. They lay on the roof of their base and gaze at them.
"Okay, well, that's the Big Dipper right there. It's like a spoon, sort of" Grian says, pointing. Scar searches for it, eyes unfocused til recognition flashes on his face, followed by a smirk. "What's that for?"
"The handle goes the wrong way. I mean, it's not a very good spoon. You couldn't even eat soup or anything with it."
"That's not the point"
"I think if these were really important it would be a better spoon" he grumbles. His words have no real bite to them.
Grian continues, settling in closer to Scar's side. "The little box at the end of the spoon- if you follow the line from those two stars at the end of it," he points. "You find Polaris. That's the North Star." Scar seems actually impressed by that one. "This one's a bit shakier, but if you go from the one in the bottom left of the spoon-"
"Bad spoon" Scar mumbles, and Grian smiles.
"Yeah, the bad spoon. If you go from the bottom left one to Polaris and then further, you find another bright one. I don't remember what it's called, but there's a 'W' of stars and it's one of them. It's Cassiopeia. It's a crown"
"It's a 'W'."
Grian sighs, somewhat exasperated "Yeah, well, you have to use your imagination. It's a bunch of dots, really." A gentle quiet falls between them, and Grian shivers. Scar pulls him in closer. "Void, you're like a human space heater," Grian mumbles, shifting himself half on top of Scar. The silence sticks around a second longer as they settle into this new configuration.
Scar breaks it first. "I think those ones make a heart. The three from castle-pee."
"Cassiopeia" Grian corrects softly, to no acknowledgement from Scar.
"And those ones from the weird spoon can make Pizza." Grian sees what he means, sort of. It's the same shape as Ursa Major, but he doesn't bother telling Scar that. "And those ones are like your eyes and the black cloudy thing is your hair." They both laugh and Grian feels the way it rumbles through Scar's chest. He feels Scar's warm breath on his ear, and he thinks he might like Scar's constellations better. Despite his reminders that this is an obligation, that he's only here till he goes yellow and that he's here because he feels guilty, he feels safe.
They see a shooting star, and Scar tells him to make a wish. He does and for a minute he believes it might come true. Hope creeps in, and he thinks they might just be okay. It's cold in the desert. It's cold out in space. Grian, for a night at least, feels warm, and safe, and loved.
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