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genericnam · 3 months

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I haven't made a character study in ages, so I think I'm gonna do that and more, by discussing every single villain from my favorite piece of Anime/TV show in general: Digimon Adventure (01)

This is going to be pretty long, so look under the cut.

Digimon Adventure is a flawed show with relatively choppy, repetitive animation, too short fight scenes, and a generally poor soundtrack inn the Dub (looking at you, Hey Digimon!), but I adore it for the characters and story. Digimon tells a tale of trauma, hope, the effects of loss and grief on children, and what it means to be brave, and the villains that push the plot forward and reflect all of this are some of my favorite villains and characters of all time. So I'm going to break them down now, in mostly chronological order (I'll be using Dub names and info since that what I grew up on and have always used, sorry if that offends you for some reason)

Villain number 1: Ogremon

Ogremon appears pretty early in the first arc as a recurring enemy and baddy. He serves as the rival and foil to the character of Leomon. Leomon gets hyped up by the main characters as the strongest active good guy on File Island, and if Ogremon is his equal, that makes Ogremon automatically intimidating.

However, Ogremon is dumb. He's easy to trick, and not too strategic, but he is full of willpower and fighting spirit, allowing him to tail the Digidestined across the entire island pretty ceaselessly. But that isn't for no reason, as Ogremon begins to work for someone pretty quick into his introduction... Devimon.

What makes Devimon intimidating is his sheer presence, the respect he demands. The entire arc up until his introduction, every foe they battled (other than Ogremon), had been animalistic, or a good person at heart. Devimon himself is pure evil, he has no redeeming qualities, no light in his soul or kindness in his heart.

Devimon uses his Black Gears and Hand of Evil to brainwash and torture countless digimon across File Island, and his gears are so spread through the island that he can control the very land itself.

Unlike Ogremon, who is gullible and somewhat cowardly, Devimon is a cunning monster. Devimon tricks and manipulates the Digitdestined, brainwashes Leomon twice, and easily beats all of their Digimon when they finally fight him.

The only reason Devimon lost is because of the way Angemon fights. As revealed in 02, the Hand of Fate's power increases the more evil your opponent is, and Devimon is just so pure evil that it was a oneshot.

While Ogremon was there as a brute force enemy, Devimon is the first of many insurmountable terrors that really shows the Digidestined how small they really are in the grand scheme of things...

Moving on to one of my favorite characters of all time, and the second arc villain: Etemon!

Etemon is goofy, that much is never hidden. He's a monkey that does an Elvis impression and rides around in a trailer performing music for his bumbling minions, but Etemon serves as a lesson that not every dangerous foe is so obviously dangerous. Etemon has a monopoly of the Desert of Server thanks to his Dark Network.

The Digital World uses a lot of crossovers from the real internet, and the Dark Network seems to be an embodiment of THE Dark Web. And Etemon controls it. The Dark Network allows Etemon to see just about anywhere and to take away the power that the Digidestined rely upon to survive: their digivolution.

Etemon is seemingly average on his own, but his true power comes in his coordination. Etemon's army is spread out, but it is powerful, and he can arrive just about anywhere with great speed thanks to how he sees everything there is to see. Piximon's hidden forest is the only place Etemon doesn't really have eyes.

Etemon serves as the mirror foil to Tai. While Tai is the Digidestined of Courage, Etemon represents hubris and arrogance. This leads Etemon to push a lot of Tai's character arc into place.

Now, once the Digidestined infiltrate Etemon's pyramid and get tricked by Datamon, Etemon shows up, and all seems lost. Datamon was the only digimon who was even close to Etemon's level, and he goes down pretty quick, but it's what Datamon does that really gives Etemon all of his best clout. Datamon fills the Dark Network with viruses that will make it destroy and consume everything they touch, before dropping himself and Etemon into it.

This seems to beat him, but NO. Etemon is too AMAZING to go out like a chump (or at least, that's what he thinks). Etemon bends the Dark Network to his will and instead fuses with it, becoming Etemon Chaos Mode

When Etemon is finally defeated, his sheer power rips a whole in reality that sends Tai and Agumon back to Earth, leading to the whole reason DemiDevimon is able to sew chaos amongst the others. But at least Etemon's gone for good, right?

Anyways, Etemon looks and acts goofy, but that's because he's strong enough that he has nothing to fear in the slightest!

Next up is DemiDevimon!

DemiDevimon isn't strong, or intimidating in the slightest. In fact, he's rather bumbling, but what DemiDevimon is good at is making other people better. Out of all the characters in the Digidestined, DemiDevimon is a major player in the arcs of Sora, T.K., Izzy, and to a lesser extent, Mimi and Matt. DemiDevimon doesn't have a whole lot going for himself, but he excells at making others look good, such as his boss...

Say hello to Myotismon...

Myotismon is THE strongest Digimon in the world at the time of his introdction. Other characters eventually become stronger, but before Megas get involved, no one was better than Myotismon. He was part of the exclusive club of characters who got TWO signature moves, which include his Crimson Lightning and Grizzly Wing.

Myotismon is unique from other villains in just how well put together his plan and army is. Devimon had Ogremon and mind control, and Etemon has a good group of lackeys, Myotismon has a veritable army with enough firepower to conquer the entire city and kidnap 99.9% of its inhabitants within days.

What makes him even more fearsome is his personal feats. Myotismon is the character who really steps up the tone, killing several of his own minions on screen when they begin to turn on him or fail. But perhaps his greatest feat is that he got Gatomon to work for him.

Gatomon is a Digidestined Digimon, and the embodiement of LIGHT itself. Throughout the series, Light has regularly been shown to be the second strongest of all the elements, only behind Hope. Myotismon was powerful enough, EVIL enough that he sucessfully tortured the embodiement of all Light into being his right hand woman.

And when every member of the Digidestined team up to beat him, Myotismon reveals that he's done all of this in a weaker host, and he reveals his TRUE form: Venommyotismon.

Venommyotismon is a Kaiju, and the first Mega level digimon in the series. He can very reasonably be argued to be the 3rd or 4th strongest Digimon in the entire show, depending on how you think he'd do against characters like MagnaAngemon and Piedmon. To beat him, the Digidestined had to activate the prophecy in order to unlock their own Megas, and it took a 2 on 1 for Venommyotismon to finally go down. This undead vampire king really just was That Guy.

And yet, he's not the strongest villain in the series...

Moving on, we have the Dark Masters!

The Dark Masters consist of four Digimon:

MetalSeadramon

Puppetmon

Machinedramon

and their leader, Piedmon.

The Dark Masters took over the entire digital world while the Digidestined were off fighting Myotismon, and they tore reality to pieces, reshaping the entire world into Spiral Mountain, a giant mountain of four zones, each ruled by one Dark Master, with their castle sitting on the peak.

The Dark Masters are the first digimon to use the power of teamwork in battle, and it really shows. They mop the floor with the Digidestined, and if not for Piximon's sacrifice, that would have been the end of the series. The Dark Masters arc is brutal, and with every member the heroes beat, it costs the lives of more and more of their friends. Sukamon, ShogunGekomon, Chuumon, Piximon, Whamon, the Numemon, they and many others were all victims of the Dark Masters.

The digidestined are only capable of beating individual members one at a time. MetalSeadramon gets beat, then Puppetmon, and then Machinedramon, until only Piedmon remains.

And yet, Piedmon still wins. He defeats every single Digimon the heroes have, including their Megas. And he turns them into keychains that he wears on his belt.

What finally puts down Piedmon is the power of the strongest crest unlocking its true potential. Hope. The embodiement of Hope itself, MagnaAngemon appears, and sends Piedmon through the Gate of Destiny, a portal to oblivion itself. NOTHING goes through that gate and survives. That is the only way that he could be defeated.

And yet, he is still not the strongest...

But we'll get to the final villain later, first... IT'S ETEMON'S COMEBACK TOUR, BABY!

Oh, you thought he was gone!? NO! During the mini-arc where the Digidestined are battling Puppetmon, it is revealed that within the afterlife, Etemon has been putting himself back together molecule by molecule. Etemon is so willful, and so confidant, that he reversed his own death.

Etemon fuses with his Dark Network fully, becoming MetalEtemon, a being capable of rivaling Puppetmon in power. MetalEtemon doesn't stay alive for too long, but in his short few episodes, he kills SaberLeomon with relative ease and sends Ogremon into his entire character arc. Etemon decided that dying twice still wasn't good enough, and he cheated death for the sole petty purpose of traumatizing his enemies more.

But now, let's get to the final boss...

This is Apocalymon. Apocalymon is the anit-thesis to EVERYTHING the digidestined are. While the heroes represent Courage, Friendship, Love, Knowledge, Reliability, Sincerity, Light and Hope; Apocalymon is Fear, Paranoia, Hate, Misinformation, Betrayal, Lies, Darkness and Apathy incarnate. He is made of the souls of every Digimon who died in the process of Digivolution, which means he is made of everything that the Digidestined relied upon to win.

Apocalymon created the big bads of every single arc on his own. Devimon, Etemon, Myotismon, the Dark Masters, they are all his creations. He is the ultimate darkness, so hateful and full of so much pure misery that he can do nothing except wish for the end of all life.

And he wins. Not in the Piedmon way where he beats almost everyone, no. Apocalymon KILLS every one of the digidestined and their digimon. He rends them apart, splits their molecules and data into nothing.

The only reason he didn't win right then and there is because of MetalEtemon. MetalEtemon's creation was foreshadowing, a sign that with enough willpower, you can cheat death. And that's just what the Digidestined do. With the power of friendship, they put themselves back together and reform their bodies, starting the fight against Apocalymon anew.

But they still don't beat him.

They can only fight Apocalymon to a draw, and he will not let that stand. Apocalymon unleashes his true ultimate ability: his self destruct sequence. Apocalymon possesses enough power that when he self destructs, the explosion will destroy TWO DIMENSIONS in the process, both Earth and the Digital World. If not for the Digivices containing the explosion, he would have gotten the last laugh.

Digimon Adventure is unique in that, out of every Digimon in the series, the VILLAIN is the strongest. Even MagnaAngemon in second place is nowhere even close to Apocalymon's level.

Apocalymon is the death of hope, the end of light, he is everything that has suffered brought to life, and he could only be defeated when he allowed himself to die.

Every villain represented something. Ogremon was the first showing of a threat that cannot be reasoned with. Devimon is the first brush with the harsh reality of the real world. Etemon shows that overconfidence will kill you. DemiDevimon shows that even people who seem like no threat can still sew the seeds of your downfall. Myotismon is the all too real chance that no matter what you do, some people will always seem to be stronger. The Dark Masters are a corruption of what can be achieved by working together. And Apocalymon? Apocalymon is the END. No matter how strong you are or how hard you work, there are foes who you cannot beat, and that you can only hope to cause their downfall. Apocalymon is the hopelessness that has condemed billions of souls, the misery and rage that will kill billions more. Apocalymon is nothing but the embodiement of everything that has ever caused sorrow... And that is something that cannot be beaten.

#digimon adventure #digimon #digimon adventure 01 #ogremon #devimon #etemon #demidevimon #myotismon #venommyotismon #metalseadramon #puppetmon #machinedramon #piedmon #metaletemon #apocalymon #tw long post #character analysis #character essay #I love this show so much

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fatehbaz · 1 year

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Don Quixote in fascist cyberspace. Following Francoist propaganda in the 20th century, fascist politicians of the 21st century continue to co-opt Cervantes and Don Quixote in service of nationalism. The contemporary Vox party calls for a “new Reconquista” of Spain, a “crusade” against feminism and African immigrants, to defeat the “giants” of “climate fundamentalism” and “gender ideology”.

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It’s said that Don Quixote and his faithful squire Sancho Panza were riding their horses in the dark night when they heard the sound of dogs barking. Trying to console the frightened Sancho, Don Quixote uttered what may be the most quoted line attributed to him: “Let the dogs bark, Sancho, it’s a sign that we are on track.” Today, the phrase is used to express the notion that if someone criticises (barks at) you, it’s a sign you are on the rise. Dogs bark at the moon, don’t they? Unfortunately, the quote doesn’t appear anywhere in Miguel de Cervantes’ famous 17th century novel Don Quixote. But that hasn’t stopped it appearing all over the Internet. [...] Anyone who reads the novel will know Cervantes’ hero is first and foremost a parody of a knight. [...] The dreadful and never-imagined (at least, certainly not by Cervantes) portrait of Don Quixote as a crusader is the kind of mistake that sets scholars’ teeth on edge. [...] But that image, sloppily posted on the web, actually comes from somewhere other than mere literary ignorance. From the early 20th century onward, Don Quixote has suffered a paradoxical fate, wrapped in a crusader’s cloak by nationalist propaganda. And this misrepresentation seems to be growing in the 21st century [...].

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The closing of the 19th century saw the gloomy twilight of the Spanish empire. The loss of its last colonial possessions dealt a severe blow to the national spirit. Around this time, the novelist, poet and philosopher Miguel Unamuno wrote an influential essay where he imagined a holy crusade to rescue Don Quixote’s grave.

For Unamuno, Cervantes’ hero was a nostalgic reminder of Spain’s heyday in the 15th to 16th centuries – the days of the “Reconquista”, or Christian reconquest of the Iberian Peninsula from the Moors, and the beginning of Spanish imperial history in America. Tellingly, Unamuno placed Don Quixote alongside Columbus and Magellan – heroes, in his opinion, led by “a generous and big dream: the dream of glory”. Don Quixote thus underwent an odd metamorphosis, from a fallible antihero to an epic ideological hero, from a comic literary character to a national myth. [...]

During the Spanish civil war, the image of crusaders against the “communist and atheist rule” was invoked with ardour by the nationalist cause. After the fall of the republic in 1939, the newly enthroned dictator Francisco Franco flooded the squares with statues of the author of Don Quixote.

With Spain still strewn with war victims, Francoist propaganda recalled the author’s left hand being mutilated from fighting against the Muslims. What better model of Spaniard than the great writer who was crippled in the service of his nation! Thus, Cervantes himself was turned into a crusader knight and a national hero.

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More recently, leaders of the far-right Spanish party Vox have compared its political agenda with Don Quixote’s quest. During a visit to a field of windmills, former party general secretary Javier Ortega Smith declared: “Those are the giants we have to fight against in politics: climate fundamentalism, gender ideology, historical lies, Agenda 2030, absurd animalism […]”

The true Don Quixote was an infamous dreamer, consistently misreading reality and seeing imaginary enemies. That’s probably the only trait he shares with his current nationalist eulogists. But Vox’s identification with Don Quixote is an irony we can’t afford to take too lightly. While reality always defeats Cervantes’ hero, it doesn’t seem to prevent people from tilting at windmills with nationalist rhetoric.

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In its rise to popularity, Vox has encouraged crusades against various “enemies of the nation”, such as the pro-independence campaign in Catalonia and contemporary feminist movements. African immigrants and Muslims are also regular targets.

Santiago Abascal, president of the party, has explicitly called for “a new Reconquista” of Spain to stop the so-called invaders from the south. When asked about it, Abascal said “there was no danger of Islamophobia in Spain: the real danger was Islamophilia.”

Islamophobic and xenophobic views, as well as the use of crusader tropes, are unfortunately familiar among today’s Western nationalisms. Misleading content on the web revolves around the image of medieval Europe as a land populated by white crusaders and nobles. Promoted by white supremacists around the world, this notion of a mythical “West” is even more indefensible in Spanish culture. From the 8th century to the late 15th century, Muslims, Christians and Jews dwelt side by side in Al-Andalus, the Arabic term for medieval Iberia. [...]

There are many wrongs in nationalist appropriations of Don Quixote. To right them is not for the sake of literature alone. [...] Meanwhile, the flamboyant crusader-usurper rides on through cyberspace [...].

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Text by: Roberto Suazo. “From hapless parody to knight crusader -- how far-right nationalism hijacked the real Don Quixote.” The Conversation. 5 January 2023. [Bold emphasis and italicized first paragraph in this post added by me.]

#abolition #imperial #colonial

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sysmedsaresexist · 9 months

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do you know the difference between P-DID and non-possessive form DID? is it just amnesia + the elaboration of alters?

Let's start with DID

Possession/non possession type DID doesn't really have anything to do with amnesia and elaboration of alters. It's more about how it's experienced.

(to be honest, I don't find the terms very useful these days, I think they were more used before the internet, when people weren't as aware of what DID was and what was happening, and they're not too often used clinically anymore)

Possession type is the feeling of being taken over. Like someone else is controlling your body. It's usually applied to religious experiences because it's typically about, well, possession, and it was initially used to refer to people who said it felt as though an outside entity was taking over, like ghosts or spirits. It's used when those experiences are occurring outside of normal cultural practices, and it's usually quite distressing.

It's evolved within the communities (that seem intent on continuing to use the terms) to include what I like to call "hard switches", which is where you are simply no longer in control. You have fully switched and another alter is in full control, someone snapped their fingers and it's done. There's no specific measure of how aware you need to be, and blackout amnesia or full awareness still counts. It feels a bit like you've just been suplexed into/out of front. I say it's evolved because as more and more people look to the internet for answers, awareness of the experience grows and most tend to realize they're not actually possessed pretty early on.

All in all, outside of the feeling of an outside entity or force, it's mostly used for very overt and obvious presentations. True possession form is usually diagnosed now as possessive trance disorder in the ICD, when it's only outside or external entities. Once there are internal entities, it's back to DID.

Non-possession type is experienced more as intrusions-- this means emotional bleeding between alters, hearing them talk about how bad your choices are, some forms of cocon. It's alters intruding on you in some way. Within the community (by those who want to continue to use the terms), it's evolved to include what I call "soft switches," which is the gradual switch, where it's happened before you're aware. It's more... Comfortable than hard switches, with a "natural" feel to it.

You'll notice that these are both terms to describe switches. It's individual experiences among different types of systems.

Partial DID from the ICD is considered to include most forms of OSDD (1) (other OSDD (1) experiences fall under the ICD's DID section), but it mostly includes non switching systems. The ICD is extremely broad with DID, so most "typical" OSDD presentations fall into DID in the ICD.

Just to round things out, let's take a super quick look at the four different diagnoses for DID. It'll help showcase the different ways the ICD and the DSM break down dissociation types. You'll notice there's a bit of overlap, and that's due to the simple fact of the two manuals drawing distinctions in different ways.

ICD 11 DID

Two or more distinct personality states that can, and do, take control (switch)

Alternation between distinct personality states is not always associated with amnesia, though it's often present at some point during the course of the disorder (ie, for childhood events), but not always

Intrusion, or non possessive form, is common, in addition to switching

Encompasses DSM's DID and some presentations of OSDD 1b

ICD 11 Partial DID

Two or more distinct personality states, but switching is rare. There may be occasional, limited and transient episodes in which a distinct personality state assumes executive control to engage in circumscribed behaviours (e.g., in response to extreme emotional states or during episodes of self-harm or the reenactment of traumatic memories).

One personality state remains dominant

Intrusions are very common, making up the majority of the presentation of P-DID

Amnesia is considered rare in P-DID

Encompasses similar presentations to OSDD 1a and some types of OSDD 1b

DSM DID

Two or more distinct personality states that can, and do, take control (switch)

Alternation between distinct personality states is not always associated with amnesia, though it's usually and typically present at some point during the course of the disorder (ie, for childhood events), but not always (the weight of the amnesia criteria will depend on where you're being diagnosed-- Europe and the US evaluate the amnesia differently). For the most part, amnesia of some kind is required, though memories can be found and a diagnosis of DID will remain.

Intrusion, or non possessive form, is common, in addition to switching

There isn't a dominant personality

DSM OSDD 1a

Indistinct alters

Mainly presents as intrusions

Switching is not common. There may be occasional, limited and transient episodes in which an indistinct personality state assumes executive control to engage in circumscribed behaviours (e.g., in response to extreme emotional states or during episodes of self-harm or the reenactment of traumatic memories).

Amnesia is extremely common for periods of both intrusion and during the infrequent switching (functionally, it's required)

Dominant personality

DSM OSDD 1b

Two or more distinct personality states that can, and do, take control (switch)

Dissociation from emotion is the only type of amnesia experienced ("emotional amnesia", which is a dumb term and I hate it)

There is no dominant personality, though it's fairly common for switching to happen infrequently

Intrusion is also common

#syscourse #resources #info #did #OSDD #p did #actuallydissociative #actuallydid #actuallyosdd #actuallymultiple #DSM #ICD

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vienecash300 · 2 months

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Album: The State vs DeMerea Pasquale

Artist: Squalee 2x

Release Date: 13 February 2024

This publication has waited patiently for a complete project from the enigmatic Squalee 2x. By my count 3 years of teases and leaks and snippets have served to wet the appetite of the local listener. We hear him rap we hear him sing. What will the album be like? In a word. Surprising. A single conversation with DeMerea Pasquale will reveal that he is deeper than his often goofy internet persona. Struggles with substance abuse, family issues and relationship problems are worn on the sleeve of this artist like a badge of honor. “The State” is heavily reflective of these facts. The beats mostly guitar driven mostly lack driving bass with notable exceptions. on “The Second Crash Always Hurts Worse” a simple acoustic guitar moves the beat and a feature from local artist C Klip brings us into the heavily autotuned vocals of Squalee who’s crooning is made not only bearable but rhythmic and pleasant by the effects used in production.

Sticking to the guitar-driven but this time complimenting with snare Squalee gives us “Love Sick in Springfield” a break up song that runs almost systematically through the stages of emotion associated with relationship cessation. The hook is an earworm that finds Squalee alternating keys to a remarkably listenable song.

“Letter to my Granny” has Squalee sing-rapping with slightly less vocal effect applied. A heartfelt ballad /tell all “Letter” is an outstanding example of doublet flow that reminds me of Scarface…if he used autotune.

Squalee kicks what sounds remarkbly like a YFN Lucci song on “Perky Dreaming” This song comes very close to being a traditional rap song entirely excluding Squalee’s wailing drone instead opting for a rapped hook and verses.

Springfield heavyweight Junior Pasare lends his vocals to “Menace to Society” a snare-and-bass track. He releases a rapid-fire Rod Wave style verse that gives the song a back bone while Squalee provides the lifeblood.

“Perky Eyes” is on the surface a Lil Peep inspired drug ballad. In true Squalee fashion the song is deeper than that acting as a cautionary tale to anyone listening. The drugs in this song are not glorified they are a side note as Squalee states repeatedly “I don’t really do drugs anymore”.

SKYLARPENDERGAST features on “Broken Promises” Skylar has appeared in this publication before. His unique voice of reminiscent of 21 Pilots , pleasing to the ear and radio ready.

Finally Squalee enlists the help of Big Homie Hom one of this productions favorite artists. On “Water remix” Squalee comes out kicking dope ass ad-lib laden triplets. Hom steps on the track like a dead Newport his distinctive voice marinating the track for the producer to cook it to perfection. “Dior Cypher” rounds the project out with 4 quick rap-and-go verses over a trap style beat. C Klip, Montana 2x EgoDeath and Prince Cash each deliver nasty verses one after another leaving the listener no time to breathe between them.

Ok Squalee, so waiting 3 years was worth it. This album is firstly a full-length LPwhich in and of itself is a miracle in 2024. The album is easy to play all the way through notably because it’s like listening to three different projects. The spirit of Lil Peep floats over the first few tracks like a hip hop specter. RIP PEEP THO 💯. The next few songs are a trip into a late 90s early 00s mind trip with flows directly out of that time and beats quite similar. Finally the last couple songs inflect a newer dare-I-say trappier vibe with songs that would be right in place alongside 21 Savage or Lil Yachty.

This is a helluva project. The raw emotion of the first few tracks bleeds enough anguish for a Double album. The last track being a cypher is a great way to switch up and avoid monotonous droning. Squalee, take a bow. This shit Smacks. 💯💯💯

CKlip

Jr Pasare.

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nerdyenby · 11 months

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Yellow time :D I’m watching Scar

Pregame

Hi Scar!!!! I’m so hyped you guys

Heck yeah, don’t stress yourself out king!!

I’m so excited for this team, the energy’s already amazing

THATS where all the empires folks are??? Lmao, Scott left Jimmy’s birthday weekend early to like, do his job, smh

Rocket Spleef

Scott absolutely roasting Tubbo lol

I’m so proud of Jordan for not immediately falling out of the sky, aren’t you??

They’re all popping off!!

Scar 11th!!!

Jordan killing Scott 😂

“I was kinda hoping to drown, to be honest” scar????

TGTTOSAWAF

Jordan and Scott bullying each other my beloved

Scar specifying that it was an actual medical emergency he missed practice for, not the nerve damage he acquired in his hand while operating a tortilla press

“Vote for what makes you happy” “ohhhhkay?” “I’m voting to go to Disneyland” them <33

Parkour Warrior

The vibes are incredible, I have never been this chill watching parkour

SCAR COMPLETION!!! He was so proud of himself :))

Scar training arc!!!!

Ayo 4th!!

Parkour Tag

Why does Jordan know the cardinal directions of the parkour tag spawns off the top of his head?? I really can’t talk but like… how????

They’re popping off!! 4/4 so far!!!

Fruit took Sneeg on a run

Scar just dropped on top of them 😂

Cub turning around and coming back when Scar tells him to even though they can’t hear each other is so!! Scar’s freaking incredible at nonverbal communication in minecraft, it doesn’t make sense but he is

When will my husband (buildmart) return from the war (unofficial hiatus)

Grid Runners

Endorsing drunkenness, this are my pg streamers :)) /j

Grid runners is so fun, thank you!! It’s so fast paced that people usually don’t take the time to appreciate it but it’s such a good game

They breezed through lamps!!!

Scar was so confused but Fruit and Jordan were more so 😂

Jordan figured out Uppies so quick, that’s so impressive actually

“Someone watched the life series and made this” real

Scaffolding is so unintuitive I swear, I’m sure there’s a logic to it but I have no idea what it is lmao

Scar gotta take more initiative and trust himself <333

“Green can’t be good at everything, man” but they can and they are :D

Jordan getting onto Scott for being too good at balancing 😂

I didn’t even notice the firecracker plush was still there!!

Meltdown

Scott gotta be careful getting that first coin crate lmao

“I never do straight things but ok” REAL

They’re speeding what???

Ah green swept ‘em :/

MCC out here trying to happen and internet around the world said no

SCAR TRIPLE ELIM!!!! And the greed!! As he should!!!

That fights against cyan was so fast lmao

YESSSSSS SCOTT AND JORDAN CARRY!!!!

“Am I supposed to pour something? I don’t think I have time for that” “Just grab the bottle” real and true

Survival Games

Barn strat real!!

This map is legendary fr

They’re getting pretty decent loot tho

Yikes they just got slammed, there was just no good way out of that area

Sands of Time

Sand daddy Scar my beloved

Torch offhand enforcer, as he should

“Where’s my Scott?” Excuse you sir that is our Scott

Scar is such a good sandkeeper

Them all running in to find Fruit <333

Scott getting onto Scar for double flicking the levers

Scott predicting the blue 6k coins

Dodgebolt

Them joking about how much better they were expected to perform with good spirits :))

CAPITAN!!!!

Last MCC we had Purpled against purple and now we have Red against red lol

Can’t believe they let a whole team of Capitan Stan’s into MCC smh

“It’s so hot in my room” “It’s cause you’re in it, Scar” “Amen!!” Scott and Fruit my beloved

Ayo secret MCC today 👀

Jordan was one of the reasons Scar got into YouTube :((( /pos

#mcc 31 #mc championship #goodtimeswithscar #jordan captainsparklez #scott smajor #fruitberries #nerdy’s mcc reactions

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whentranslatorscry · 10 months

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Translator’s Afterword

The recent splitting of the Killing Stone (Sessho-seki) in Japan sparked much discussion, especially given its place in Japanese folklore. On March 5, 2022, the stone was found completely cleaved in two, likely due to natural weathering over time. According to legend, the stone contained the spirit of a nine-tailed fox demon. The breakage led to speculation on the internet that the demonic spirit had now been freed to torment Japan. It seems Nisio has been liking his references to real world events lately.

In mythology, the nine-tailed fox Tamamo-no-Mae once transformed into a beauty to seduce Emperor Toba, causing his illness. After the Onmyoji Abe no Yasunari forced Tamamo-no-Mae to reveal its true form, the Emperor sent 80,000 soldiers and Abe no Yasunari to destroy the demon. Though eventually killed, its lingering resentment caused the corpse to become a huge stone which spread poisonous gas to kill everything around it. A famous monk then used a ritual rod to shatter the stone into fragments scattered all over Japan. In fact, Japanese volcanoes are very active, and stones near volcanoes easily adsorb toxic gases, killing nearby animals and birds. Therefore, the “killing stones” are marked with monuments.

For a little more context, you were able to read this story early thanks to my good friend xziomal0321xpl2, who generously provided me with a copy of the book and was part of my motivation, nudging Nisio Isin’s point about the power and value of human connections. Shoutout also to Studentofethereum, who helped proofread the chapters. And thank YOU for reading my amateur attempt at translating a Nisio novel.

Conmal

#ikusamonogatari

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lastwordsofdutchschultz · 4 months

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youtube

Joseph Beuys Wire Tap, 1998

(Thegn Penrose, Digital, 2023)

this is a thing I made recently relating to Joseph Beuys, Shamanism, Alchemy, and some pseudo-spiritual ideas I have about the internet and its origins in telecom in the 1990s. I might make more related to this, but who knows. since I had a deadline for the project it isn't all I wanted it to be, but it allowed me to sperg out about Joseph Beuys to people in my class that didn't care, so that's alright. I'm especially interested in the belief that Terrence Mckenna had in technological singularity and the internet before he died. McKenna believed that a technological singularity would provide the redemption of the spirit through matter prophesied in the hermetic tradition. This belief seems very out of place now, but in the 1990s it was considered perfectly logical.

formally it draws heavily on La Jetee (you absolutely have to check it out if you haven't yet, it's only 30 minutes and available on youtube), and the work of janet cardiff. I'll probably make a post about her some day, because she's a really interesting artist. she mostly makes installations, but they focus a lot on sound and physical spaces, so I was thinking of her a lot when mixing the audio. her work is very creepy and interesting, but honestly, it can only be fully experienced in person.

all that you really need to know is that the text-to-speech program in this video is recounting Joseph Beuys' story of crashing in Crimea during World War II. he had been drafted into the Luftwaffe and ended up crashing, after which, according to him, he was taken in by nomadic Tatars, who nursed him back to life using animal fat and sheets of felt. this story is probably not literally true and was either made up as part of his self-myth or hallucinated. later, after the war was over he became an artist, and like a lot of his german contemporaries was consumed by guilt and an overriding postmodern fear that whatever trauma they had inflicted upon humanity would stifle all meaning in human life. he and other artists like Anselm Kiefer, (who, not at all coincidentally was also interested in alchemy) were terrified of the urge to forget and suppress the memory of the holocaust and believed that without proper healing no actual progress could be achieved.

he is known for his especially pessimistic work in the 1950s and 60s that focused on trauma, the dissolution of humans as living beings and subjects, and a fixation on Auchwitz. following this he leaned more into his belief in alchemy and felt that through his ritualistic practices, much like the tatars healed him, he could heal the large scale trauma in the world around him. his attitude at this time was very sincere and earnest, and was accompanied by a strong involvement in the West German anti-war and anti-nuclear movements. some people would see his early involvement with the Green Party, for instance, as out of character or wacky, but it actually fits beautifully within his belief that great art would accompany meaningful material change in the world.

anyway, I'm rambling. I will not get into my ideas about the early internet yet. some day.

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theprettynosferatu · 2 years

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Someone had once told Kevin that every city had its own vibrancy, its own spirit, so to say. He, of course, had no frame of reference to agree or disagree: born and raised in what could very charitably be called a “quaint small town”, cities to him existed only on T.V. When he got off the bus, however, he instantly felt something in the air, an electricity and a menace, and he didn’t like it one bit. He took a deep breath. This was it. The fabled Los Angeles, city of dreams.

His wandering first steps in the city weren’t much better. Somehow he had expected skyscrapers even though he knew the San Andreas fault made them impossible to build. Kevin didn’t want to judge a place without really knowing it, but his first impression was less than glamorous. He hailed a cab and read out the address on his phone. The trip reinforced some of his early impressions. The city was flat and dry and dusty and a barrage of noises, colors, smells. And it just kept going and going… as if robbed of verticality, it took its revenge by spreading and sprawling like a human oil spill. Still, better here than the nowhere that was his home town.

After a long trip he arrived at his apartment, if it could be called that. Still, he was grateful: the Internet might be a terrible place but every now and then someone helps out: in this case by providing a cheap place to rest. Sure, it was barely more than a storage unit with a mattress, but with rent going haywire everywhere, having a roof and somewhere to wash off was a luxury. Looking at the ceiling, Kevin reminded himself why he was in Los Angeles. He couldn’t grow old and die in the sticks. No way. He was meant for bigger things. He could act, that much he knew, even if only from highschool drama classes. And he had the looks to make it, or so he had been told. Now he needed contacts, a hand up, friends.

That was easier said than done, he discovered. He found himself knocking on doors that remained forever closed with a polite smile that barely disguised the fact that his headshots would end up in the shredder the second he left. As for friends… it was hard to talk to people in the city, where the sheer volume of bodies robbed everyone of individuality and turned them into a single, huge mass of humanity. Shit, back home he knew everyone by name. But he did know that being a regular somewhere might lead to conversation and maybe some sort of connection. Lucky for him, Kevin happened to be staying half a block away from a bar, so he chose to begin there.

It was at the bar where he met Kate.

It made no sense. Kate worked as a waitress, friendly and always with a ready smile. That didn’t add up for Kevin: he realized, the moment he first saw her, that he had never known true beauty before. It was an unpleasant feeling, like a shift in his entire view on the very idea of what a woman could be. Kate had bright, copper-blonde hair; full lips that made the soul dream; a smooth, sun-kissed skin exposed by an outfit no one in the old town would have considered “clothing”... and a body with curves like weapons of mass destruction that inspired awe, desire and near worship in all the patrons. Her short tank top and daisy dukes guaranteed it. That she was a waitress seemed like some sort of cosmic mistake. If there was such a thing as justice, she would be plastered on every magazine, every website, every show and movie. Kevin felt as if he had encountered a goddess on an undercover trip to the mortal world, and for the first time in his life he felt… intimidated. Back home he knew his looks and charisma could land him pretty much whoever he wanted, but Kate… surely Kate was out of his league. Shit, she was out of anyone’s league, a being of dreams and desires, the ideal against which every other woman was secretly judged.

On his third night at the bar, he discovered something even more alarming: Kate was really, truly funny and kind.

It happened after Kevin had one too many and lost track of time. Kate sat down by his side, and her scent was as intoxicating as any alcohol.

“Hey, cowboy. Gonna have to close up shop soon”

Kevin looked around. They were alone. He couldn’t tell if it was the moment or the booze but suddenly he found himself speaking, the words coming out by themselves with no input from his brain.

“Why are you here, Kate?”

“You mean in a philosophical sense? What’s the big purpose, the big plan? I guess I’m here because the screenwriter above sent me to teach you a valuable life lesson before the credits roll. Or maybe I’m here because some medieval king farted at the wrong moment, starting a chain of events that leads to this very moment in time. Or maybe it’s my job and I drew the short stick so I have to close up the bar tonight. Who knows such things?”

“I mean… Don’t take this the wrong way but… this city… yeah there are a lot of cute girls and all, but you… I’m sorry, I’m babbling”

“Ah, you mean why am I working at a bar when I look like I do. Don’t be shy. I know what I look like” Kate smiled and helped herself to some pretzels. “It’s a stupid story. Sure you wanna hear it?”

“More than anything”

“First, let me try and guess something. If I get it wrong, you get a kiss. Deal?”

“Deal”

“Okay, let me look at you…” Kate got closer to study Kevin’s eyes. Every inch of him screamed that he should do it, just lean forward a bit, just a little taste…

“Got it”, Kate concluded. “You came here less than a month ago. You don’t have the L.A. eyes. You want to be… I’d say actor or musician, and I’m going with actor. Too pretty to need to learn an instrument to land girls, and why else do men learn music? So… small town, big dreams, came here and now you’re dazzled by the light and hitting your head against the wall that is the entertainment business, but you still have hope”

Damn. He had to be honest. Lying to her felt like lying to a priestess.

“Nailed it”

“Well, shit. I was hoping I’d get something wrong. Oh well. My story is simple; same thing. Except I wanted to be a model. Not a runway model, obviously. I’m too… well-rounded for that. But I did get some shoots very quickly. Too quickly, it turns out”, Kate said as she stuffed herself with pretzels. “This city is a jungle, Axl got that much right. And I put a big target on my back. Wanna know the most dangerous being on Earth? A jealous, pretty girl. And I guess I got their attention in a bad way. They… spread rumors. Slept around with the right people in exchange for my getting blacklisted. The shoots stopped coming, and here I am. I’m not bitter, though. I know I’ll make it one way or another. Besides, I think I am pretty good as a model. Wanna see?”

“Huh, sure”

Kate tapped her phone a few times and handed it to Kevin. What he saw pierced through the haze of drunkenness like a spear of light. There was Kate modeling a small, red bikini. Each picture was, in a way, a story of its own, almost a world of its own. Maybe the photographer deserved some credit, but Kevin thought shooting Kate would be the easiest job in the universe. In one picture her smile seemed like a warm embrace, gentle like a breeze, the kind of smile one would want to wake up next to forever; in the next her oiled breasts whispered naugthy suggestions as her face was frozen in an eternal seductive wink; one picture caught her caressing her body and it felt as if one shouldn’t be watching such an intimate act while here eyes said that it was okay, that she wanted you to see, to join her in this moment of pleasure… and over and over again her waist, her sculpted curves, her otherworldly appeal broke through the screen and made his blood feel warm, his body ache for her touch…

He was hard as a rock, and shifted his seating posture in a futile attempt to hide it. Kate laughed.

“It’s okay, cowboy. I’d feel bad if I didn’t get you all hot and bothered! Believe me, that’s a compliment if I’ve ever seen one. But… I do have to close up”

And just like that, the moment was gone. Kevin walked to the door in a daze, overwhelmed.

“Hey, cowboy!”, called Kate.

“Yeah?”

“You know, they didn’t pay me much for that shoot… but I did get to keep the bikini. Sweet dreams!”, she said with a wink.

His dreams that night were sweet indeed.

Kevin was beside himself. He sent portfolios to casting agencies by day and found himself growing more and more desperate by night. This had never happened to him, this fear, this insecurity. He felt small, as if the city itself was a beast slowly digesting him. And Kate… it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault that she was so perfect, so funny and kind and stunning. It wasn’t her fault that, as she had told him, she could eat as much as she wanted and never gain weight, or that a minimal amount of exercise was enough to keep her body in tight, ideal shape; and yet the other girls had hated her for it, and now Kevin was too intimidated by her to make a move. Should he even try? How did one woo a goddess? All that was swimming in his head a week later still, keeping him so withdrawn and mystified that, once again, he lost track of time.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She was sitting across him, gingerly snacking on a donut. Where the hell did she get a donut at closing time? And why was that the first thing that came into his head?

“I guess I’m just… I don’t know. Lost” he said without thinking. It felt safe to open up to Kate, even if she was one of the reasons his head was all over the place.

“I know what you mean. It’s this town. It’s… well, it can be mean and cruel and uncaring, that’s true. And it takes time to find the good people in it, to adjust and become who you’re gonna become. And you will become someone else, that’s just what happens here. People find… their true selves, I suppose”

“Did you? Change, I mean”

“Sure! I was so shy, so… stuck up when I got here, you know? Sure, shitty stuff happened to me, but honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m so much more… free now”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, a little bit like…”

Time skipped. When he next was aware, Kevin could feel Kate’s warm, soft lips on his. For a moment, it was as if he was looking at himself kissing her, his mind refusing to believe the reality of the situation before finally letting the moment sink in. She was real. It was real. The feeling of her skin as she caressed his arm was real. Her tongue eagerly, desperately seeking his was real. And his cock getting harder and harder sure was real. Suddenly, he felt her hand rub him over his pants.

“Good”, she panted. “But not yet. Follow me”

Kate took his hand and led him through a wooden door by the corner of the bar. A set of stairs rose, and with every step upwards Kevin felt as if he was leaving the world behind, climbing closer and closer to a realm of fantasy and marvel. Kate opened the door at the top of the stairs.

“Welcome to my place! Not the biggest, I know, but convenient” she smiled. “Now… I have a surprise for you”

With gentle, practiced movements, garments fell to the floor. Her top first, then her shorts. Her sandals were unceremoniously kicked off her perfect feet. Suddenly, the girl from the screen stood before Kevin. The girl with the red bikini.

“Come closer. I won’t bite, unless you ask me to”

He felt as if reality itself was somehow broken. The curve of her neck, the smoothness of her skin, her shiny, flowing hair, her sculpted legs and miniscult waist… the pictures hadn’t made her justice. No picture could ever make her justice, capture her perfume, her almost dance-like movements, the way the light reflected off her breasts, how the red bikini popped against her tanned body, making her both a warm, gentle presence and an irresistible sexual being. Kevin could only stare… at first. She came to him, and her lips, her arms, her entire body pressed against his, and in that moment they were enveloped in a desperate need to rub, to caress, to feel every inch of each other. Language devolved into moans and whimpers. They were communicating at a deeper level. Still, Kate needed to make a point. She started grinding on his cock through his pants.

“Cowboy… don’t let this city scare you. Don’t let me scare you. You need to… oh, fuck… take it. Take me… imagine I’m this city and… make me your bitch”

Suddenly, Kevin was awake. Fully, completely awake. The shock of his arrival, the frustrations, the sleepless nights… they all seemed like a silly dream. He knew how to do this. He know how to take what he desired. And he desired Kate. Without warning, he flipped her around, pinning her hands against the wall and moving the bikini aside.

“Yesss”, she moaned. “Let go…”

He pulled his cock out and resisted the urge to take her right then and there. Instead, he teased her pussy, rubbing the tip softly against her lips, skillfully pulling back when Kate tried, in desperation, to impale herself on his member. He felt in control. He was in control. Kate squirmed and smiled, more to herself than for him. She had been right. The man only needed to remember who he was.

Kevin remembered. He took a moment to look at the picture of perfection bent over for him, squirming for him, needing to be taken. He could do it. And if she could fuck Kate, he could do anything. Violently, he entered her fully and a deep, satisfied moan escaped her lips.

“Do it… do it… fuck me… fucking use me… give me that cock, please!”

She felt tight and warm and more than that… she felt safe and caring and willing to do anything for him. She felt his, and he grabbed her tits, squeezing them, making her feel how he was taking possession of them, of every inch of her. Her hips bucked wildly as her orgasm approached. This she hadn’t expected. She didn’t know it would feel so… so good, so strong, so… dominating. Her cunt squeezed and she screamed in rapture. Kevin had to make a titanic effort not to flood her pussy. He had other ideas. As soon as she was catching her breath, he pulled out and, without a word, turned Kate around. He looked into her eyes and she knew what he wanted to do, what she would do for him. She went to her knees and smiled.

She posed for him, better than ever, better than she had worked for any camera. She lost the top and played with her tits for him, bit her lips for him, pleaded with her eyes for him. She realized she wasn’t performing. She needed to feel his cum on her skin.

Kevin covered her, his groan music to her ears. Her breasts, her face, even her legs felt the warmth of his semen. Kate couldn’t help herself. She rubbed it on her skin, scooping up a little bit and tasting it with a wink and a smile. It was as if she was seeing Kevin, the real Kevin for the first time, and she liked what she saw.

Kevin looked down at the goddess. She had reminded him of something, something deep inside him. She had given him confidence and solace and support. She had brought him back to life. He knew he should feel thankful.

He didn’t. He felt like a wolf before a wounded deer.

Yes, Kate had awakened something in him. If only she knew the magnitude of what she had done.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

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strawhatsoraya · 1 year

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CW: a sprinkling of angst but it's very light, like how yt people season food sometimes, confused!geto suguru, he might catch up eventually, equally confused!nanami kento but he's got spirit, terrible eating habits, a busy body gojo satoru, suggestive vocabulary, luna writes porn on the clock, idk if that's a warning or if some of ya'll relate but i'll just throw it on here just in case, someone throws a coffee pot, human on computer crime, aka the rise of the homosapiens, if only for a moment A BADLY WRITTEN SUMMARY: flashbacks like a kdrama, there's croissant flakes everywhere, a computer reaches an early death, nanami kento gets some gray hairs (maybe), and gojo satoru introduces himself because that's all tall men do: have audacity. taglist: @soleilnomoon @spitfire-of-the-sea (there were more of you who liked the post but you didn't comment so I wasn't sure)

He doesn’t remember much of his childhood. He doesn’t remember the name of his very first best friend before he was five, or the girl he kissed when he was seven. He doesn’t remember the face of the first boy that made his heart race, but he remembers the feel of his sweaty hand against his, and he remembers the one dimpled cheek that tore open the seams of his truth.

He doesn’t remember the embrace of his mother’s arms. Were they cold? Did she hold him tight? He doesn’t remember the first time his father smiled at him, if he smiled at him at all.

Out of all the things he couldn’t remember, and the ones he could, there was one that always remained the same.

Loneliness felt heavy. A darkness so thick he could not see his own hand in front of him. He remembers sitting in stiff armchairs, back straight, knees together. He remembers that feeling between disappointment and defeat every time he was told who he could meet with, what clothes he could wear, what elective class he could take.

He remembers how quiet the nights were. How not seeing made him feel lost, trapped; so he leaves the light on every night; even today.

He remembers to leave it on even when he comes back from college. He leaves it on as he heads down the rug covered hallway, bare feet barely thudding on the intricate fabric. The kitchen is not far away, and he is in desperate need of water. The hangover from the night before, and the one before that, still lingers with him, pressing its fingers against his eyeballs. He knows better than to eavesdrop, but his name formed by the lilt in his Uncle’s voice traps him behind the door.

“That boy and his habits,” he hisses. Satoru blinks as he presses the side of his head against the door. The coolness of the wood is a welcome reprieve. He closes his eyes and wishes the pounding to cease inside his head. “How many more pictures of him tangled up with men at clubs do we need to delete from the internet? He shows no interest in the company and no respect!”

It was true. He didn’t dare deny it. Gojo Satoru had no interest in the company. It had never shown interest in him; the real him.

His cousin’s name is spoken in a different tone; softer, ladened with a sense of pride and awe. Satoru grips the air, turns his fingers into fists. There was something inside Gojo Satoru, ever since he could remember. There was a certain dark crevice within him, where something laid in wait. He had tried to ignore it many times, explain it away.

But every time he thought he had smothered it, the darkness crawled right back out, its reach too far for the light to smother.

He had no interest in the company, but it was his. His right. His reward.

He’d be damned if he let anyone take it from him.

As far as Geto Suguru could recall history, nature had always been on his side.

Survival of the fittest could be deemed a cold refrain. Something only self centered narcissists liked to spout from their comfortable armchairs. They had never known survival a single day in their lives yet extol themselves above others as if their very existence was hand picked by the Gods.

Gods or not, Suguru never felt the need to be selected.

His validation came from his enormous ego; the one that was hand fed by his early years accomplishments. He was always the strongest, and always the fastest. He was a quick learner and excelled with little effort.

It came to no surprise to him when he passed his interview to Limitless Gaming Studios. After all, he had done careful research and with the help of some money and a silver tongue he was able to acquire mock questions from a previous employee. It all had gone according to plan.

He was currently lining up behind a new hire, doing his best to patiently wait for his picture to be taken when he felt someone's eyes on him. Hands in his pocket, he turns his face slightly and is met with a piercing blue gaze, icey, cold, burning.

He swallows the lump in his throat, blames his addiction to caffeine for his heartburn and decidedly glares in return. Suguru takes the man's height in and scoffs softly, his plush mouth tugging at a corner until there's a crooked grin left behind to accompany the dimple on his cheek.

"Are you lost?" Geto asks him, hands still in his pockets as his body turns to mirror the man looking down at him. For his words, the white haired man only offers him a raise of one matching eyebrow.

"Do I look lost?" He finally responds. Geto refrains from sucking his teeth; just barely. Instead his mouth parts slightly, annoyance squeezing his eyebrows together. Sugurus' dark eyes take in the man's appearance again from the top of his feathery white hair to the obnoxious shiny shoes on the man's large feet.

"I don't know what you look like," Geto responds with a small shake of his head. He takes a step back, intent on putting distance between himself and the strange looking man but the man steps forward this time wearing a small smile.

Suguru swallows, ashamed, not for the first time and feels heat creep up the back of his neck.

"Really? It seems to me like you got a good look. Are you really sure," he pauses as he invades Geto's space with one more step towards him. Suguru takes a sharp breath, breathes in his cologne, teakwood and mahogany. Focus eludes him, it spins in circles around the white crown of hair on the man before him. "You don't know?"

The only thing Geto knew at the moment was that this man's presence muddled his senses. His mind moved sluggishly, even as he blinked repeatedly in hopes of clearing the fog. It doesn't work, and neither does his second deep breath. Instead the scent of cologne lingers longer in his sinuses, enough to make him feel nauseous.

"I don't know what you look like," Geto insists as he brings the back of one delicate hand to his nose. "But you smell like a nuisance. Do you mind?" Suguru gestures in front of him, eager to introduce to the strange man all the space available in the corridor that did not include his personal bubble. "Cheap perfumes give me migraines."

He frowns and thinks that, just for a moment, he sees mirth dance within the man's aquamarine irises. He doesn't stay to investigate further. The reflective surface of those eyes reminded him of summers spent in Kagoshima–of the sun, and clear waters, of white sand beaches and sunburns; of first love and the pain that comes with it.

He wanted nothing more than to get away from those memories.

In a state of crisis, where one must place one's own survival before others–manners were the least of Geto's worries. He poses quickly for his picture when called and elbows the white haired man as he passes him by, hoping to never see him again.

Geto believes he has successfully cast him out of his mind–a heavy rock sinking into a pond. He holds steadfast to this conviction as he joins yet another line at the cafeteria this time. His palette, usually refined and extremely picky, screams in the back of his tongue at the sight of cold prepackaged sandwiches.

In life, sometimes one must compromise. Geto mumbles this to himself as he picks a cold caprese and focaccia bread sandwich; not even a panini. He huffs as he hears a group of voices grow louder with excitement. When he turns to follow the sounds, he sees the source of the attention: well over six feet tall, soft white hair, and those piercing clear eyes that had annoyed him earlier.

There's a sardonic smile he can't bite down. His mouth becomes crooked and he laughs, eager to share his scorn with the nearest person.

"Look at this circus," he mumbles down to a crown of red curls. She looks up with furrowed brows but he plows on. "Fitting for a clown, I suppose."

The redhead blinks up at him and tilts her head. As Geto looks down at her, he's almost convinced he heard rattling.

"You mean the CEO, Gojo-san?"

Geto grips the sandwich tightly, until his fingertips crush the bread underneath them.

"That's the CEO?" He spits through clenched teeth, voice strained, neck feeling so taut he fears his vocal cords tearing. "That guy? You gotta be kidding me."

Rich, and buttery, the flavor coats her tongue until it almost pushes out all other thoughts. Almost, because there's one thing that no matter how hard she tries, always manages to monopolize her very being. That one thing was the euphoric vision of Nanami Kento hard at work at his desk.

Luna takes another chomp at her croissant, golden flakes tossing themselves over her desk in disarray; a symbolic display of her life in shambles. Cleanliness was imperative in her line of work, but Luna’s too busy staring at the way Nanami's brows furrow together at the same time he sets his jaw. She is far too busy watching him underline and strike out line after line of written work to hear her best friend beside her, murmuring what sounded important.

"Helloooo," Callie sings in a whisper, so close to Luna’s ear her hot breath tickles her earlobe. "Earth to Bestie. Squish, please report for duty.”

Luna shifts her shoulders in annoyance, and tosses her head slightly as if that would shake Callie off; as if she was a fly. She does all this but her eyes are still set on Nanami Kento, and the way he pauses to take a heavy drink from his cup of coffee–the one Luna had gotten him this morning, just like every morning for the past three months she had been working at the company.

Limitless Gaming Studios was a company full of eccentric creatives. In charge of visual novels, and dating simulation games, they lead the way with their inclusivity and diversity. Luna couldn’t be happier to work for such a company, especially since her boss was extremely attractive. Her best friend is breathing near her ear again, commanding her attention.

“Listen,” Callie starts again, prodding her arm with one finger. “I know. I get it. Nanami-san has that authority figure thing going for him and you know,” she pauses to glance sideways, her face a guarded expression as she searches for the right way to say something. “I know you’re into that and whatever, but have you seen Geto-san today?”

The coffee cup in Nanami’s hand immediately loses Luna’s interest. She swivels in her chair, her neck making a cracking noise as she tries to keep up. Luna yelps softly and clamps a hand to the back of it, even as she searches for Geto Suguru’s tall physique. His jaw is set, as he pushes himself off his chair by placing his hands on the desk. Luna follows his path towards Nanami’s work space, and tries not to be mesmerized by the ebony lock of hair that comes loose from his bun. It dances lightly over his temple as he walks, and not for the first time, she wishes to be at least a single strand of hair growing out of his head.

Luna was often caught between Geto’s beauty and her daily tasks–finding distractions in the planes of his face, and the comforting way he’d rub the back of his neck as he worked on the latest concept art. She’d find herself there even now, ensnared by the sharpness of his jaw, and his furrowed brows as he leans in closer to Nanami.

Luna feels Callie’s hand on her elbow again, tugging, and her voice trying to remind her about what she was working on. Callie’s voice in Luna’s ears doesn’t let her overhear the whispered conversation happening between the two men.

Suguru places a hand on Nanami’s desk, his tapered fingers pushing paperwork aside. Nanami looks up through light brown lashes, a tired sigh flopping from his lips.

“What now, Suguru-san?” Nanami asks as he brings back the papers Geto’s impertinence had cast away from him. “Don’t you have a lot of work to do? The deadline is in two weeks.”

Geto knows he should smile. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. That was how the saying went; however, it had always been difficult for Geto to go along with what was considered socially acceptable. He had lived his whole life in rebellion. His hair was long because his parents thought he would look more professional with it short. He had piercings, because he was told he’d never get a job if he did. He had become an artist because they had said he’d never make a career out of it; that he’d starve on the streets, selling his art online for cheap to the masses.

So he knows that if he wanted to convince Nanami to take his side, to become his ally against his great nemesis, that he should take a different approach.

“Never mind the deadline,” he counteracts, not bothering with niceties. As it was, Suguru was sure Nanami did not mind his way of speaking. He dealt with worse personalities–for example, one in particular belonging to Nanami’s so-called childhood friend. “Have you been considering my last proposal?”

Nanami doesn’t mean to–truly–but his eyes act with disregard as they roll to the back of his head. He tries to cover up his lack of manners by taking off his spectacles, and running a large hand over his face. Somehow, he manages to hold back an impassive groan. Silently, he compliments his own immeasurable patience.

“Your proposal,” Nanami starts, carefully putting back his glasses on his face. “Has been rejected. Just like the previous five times. Could you please not waste my time? You know how much–”

Geto grasps the cup of coffee from Nanami’s hand. Kento looks up at him with widened eyes. Surprise melts away as his frown deepens between two thin brows.

“You should reconsider. There is no reason for you to be loyal to Gojo. You don’t even like him!” The last part is a whispered hiss, one that tumbles out of plush lips as he swoops towards one of Nanami’s ears.

Luna watches the interaction, their words not reaching her. Her mouth waters with curiosity, forcing her to smack her lips noisily. If she could be a fly on that nearby wall, or on the desk–hell, if she could be the coffee ring on the coaster right now it would be enough.

There had been tension between Nanami Kento and Suguru Geto probably even before Luna joined the company. She had wanted to discover the reason behind their pointed looks. Their whispered conversations always came to her jagged–broken mirror pieces that reflected unreliable truths. There was no knowing where the root of the tangled yarn came from or even began.

So she allowed boredom to take over, creating fantasies in her head to fill in empty spaces she should probably speak to a therapist about but chose to ignore instead. Ignorance was bliss, or so they said, and Luna liked the sound of that. Delusion or something grander, made her chuckle to herself as she pictured Geto grasping Nanami's tie to land a searing kiss on the blonde man's lips.

"Frankly, Geto-san," Nanami's voice is curt, and sharp, slicing through the thick tension in the air and immediately cutting Luna down from the fantasy she was tangled in. "Who I like or don't like is not your business or anyone else's."

The expression on Geto’s face unbeknownst matched her own. Nanami was always professional but there had been a tinge of annoyance to his voice that would have sent Luna crying to the bathroom stall had she been on the receiving end. Not wanting to provoke the man further, Geto retreats and leaves the office room entirely.

There’s a silence that fills his place, and quickly grows–the invisible elephant in the room. Luna shifts in her seat, as if to make way for the swinging trunk. In her best effort to avoid the matter at hand–and simultaneously postpone working–Luna retreats into the crevices of her mind. When she wasn’t focused on work, or the way Nanami’s hand would grip his pen, Luna was busy thinking about the webcomic she had created with Callie.

It had all rooted from little jokes they had over lunch break. They had witnessed their CEO, Gojo Satoru, interact with Geto on multiple occasions and could not help but notice the tension between them; the sly smirks on the tall fair haired man, and the flushed cheeks on a scowling Suguru. Suguru was a man who was seemingly always in control. Seeing him so obviously riled up, in public no less, had made the childish parts of them come up with wild theories.

Theories that quickly turned from ‘wouldn’t that be funny’ to ‘wouldn’t it be great if we turned that into a story?’.

Luna tapped the rubber end of a pencil against her cheek, eyes unfocused as she went through the motions of daydreaming. Their webcomic was due for an update and she had yet to come up with a fresh new idea for the next installment. In her mind’s eye she began to form Gojo’s face as inspiration, trying to picture him flush faced and embarrassed as her fingers flew over her keyboard, effortlessly typing up a lewd scenario. There was no time for her to indulge in fantasies before Nanami’s voice was ringing in her ears.

“Luna-san,” he said, his voice deep and hoarse. It reverberated inside her head, and Luna turned her face slowly to find him much closer than she predicted. He was bent at the waist, a necessary precaution, to bring himself to her eye level. “I can’t help but notice you’re not doing your work again. How many times must I ask you to please stay on track?”

His brown gaze is on hers and she feels like falling–or is it swimming? There’s water around her, and the world melts away. There’s no air but the one perhaps hidden behind Nanami’s lips. Luna leans closer hoping to breathe at least a little bit.

“Luna-san!” his voice sounds surprised, as he pulls away. Luna shakes her head, and feels heat slowly drifting up her neck. Her hands are clumsy as she reaches for the keyboard, suddenly aware of her grievous mistakes. She had invaded Nanami Kento’s personal space, and she still had a very unsafe work document open on the company’s computer. The mouse feels slick under her hand, it suddenly feels far from her control. The box she desperately wants to close seems elusive or frozen. The rapid fire clicking of the mouse triggers Nanami to look away from her face and to the computer monitor.

“H-h-hold on,” Luna stammers, eyes fluttering from corner to corner on the monitor. “I think something is wrong with this thing.”

There’s a sound in Luna’s throat, something like the desperate plea of a dying animal. She can barely hear herself over the sound of her heart beating away against her ear drums. It thrashes in her chest as the computer suddenly freezes and unfreezes, document after document in a hidden folder now opening successively one after the other.

“A virus!” she says shrilly, mouth going dry. Luna swallows with difficulty. “That’s the only thing I can think of. I mean,” she pauses to lick her lips nervously. “It can only be that, right?”

Every ding of the computer opening a document, sends a painful surge of adrenaline to her chest–especially at the sight of the last document to freeze on the monitor.

Luna gasps as she recognizes the scene of the main characters making passionate love to each other.

Her body tenses up, and as she tries to calm down her breathing, her brain sluggishly coming up with some excuse or the other–Luna sends a pleading look to her best friend Callie.

“Right,” Callie chimes in.

She sees Callie’s mouth open and close repeatedly, and her eyes glance over her shoulder. Nanami once more was peering at the computer monitor, his watchful eyes narrowing at the letters.

“Hmm,” his hum is contemplative, perhaps slightly doubtful. He moves closer to the monitor. “We should have someone look at it then.”

Luna sits up with a start, her chair rolling behind her. Callie approaches, hands out in a calming manner. It is of no use. All Luna can hear in her head are sirens; the sound of impending doom. All Nanami needed to do was to continue reading the document on the screen to realize the truth about her nature. If that happened, she could kiss whatever chances she so foolishly thought she had in getting him to notice her outside of work goodbye.

In a last desperate attempt, and admittedly as an afterthought: not her brightest–Luna rushes to the nearby coffee maker. She takes the pot full of cheap watered down coffee and flings it at the monitor.

“Luna-san!” Nanami yells. “What are you doing now?”

The pot crashes against the monitor screen, toppling it backwards and off the desk. Callie screams and jumps back. The brown liquid spills over the edge of the desk, and onto the computer below it. Nanami seems determined to stay close to the scene of destruction; something Luna just can’t accept. In a shocking display of courage from her part, she’s seizing his forearm and pulling him away. She slides between him and the damaged computer, as she spreads her arms wide, using her body to block his view.

“This is an outrageous display of behavior,” Nanami continues, trying to move around Luna. “Even for you. This is not necessary. We have a whole department for this kind of thing.”

Gojo Satoru often had too much time on his hands. It was a blessing and a curse. He’d always end up in something he had no business inserting himself into; a lot like now. It was hard to pass by the spectacle, when he saw the back of Nanami’s familiar head. Most of all, he couldn’t resist finding out what the curly haired flailing woman was so intent on keeping from his friend’s view.

While Luna drew closer to Nanami, side stepping and mirroring his movements every time he tried to dodge her to look around, Gojo slid right behind her. The monitor is still on, mostly undamaged, allowing his aquamarine eyes to read quickly the passages displayed. The words jump out at him in alarming detail.

“As I was saying” Nanami reiterates, words spat through clenched teeth. His patience hangs by a thread, and he adjusts his tie, thinking he’d find some secret hidden stash in there. “We should have IT take the computer and have a look at it.”

Gojo waves his hand, distracted by what he was reading. “Go on then, Kento. You should notify them.”

Nanami’s eyes cut to Luna. She feels like a deer caught in the headlights. She wonders when the car will hurry up and run her over already to put her out of her damn misery. The impact never comes, but Nanami does leave the room, to alert IT of the problem.

Meanwhile, Gojo’s amused humming alerts Luna of her own problem. She glances over, panic icing her veins, to see him stroking his chin with a large hand.

Satoru found the characters to be oddly familiar; as if they were old friends he could barely remember. He brings a hand to point at the screen before it goes black. Crystalline eyes look up to see Luna with a plug in her hand, chest heaving as she panted audibly and she pushes the monitor further with her foot.

“Ah!” he gasps, a hand flying to his chest. Gojos’ brows shoot up high on his forehead. “Why would you do that?” he asks, a dramatically painful tone taking residence in his syllables. “I was just getting to the good part.” Satoru steps closer to Luna. In the back of her mind, she knows she should run, perhaps turn off her phone and never come back to work. She could change her identity and move to the countryside. Maybe she could raise goats and sell cheese for a living. Instead, she’s frozen to her spot, even as Satoru leans down to whisper in her ear: “So, what happens next?”

END CHAPTER | ☞ CHAPTER TWO

#series: kiss him kiss me #jjk x oc #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #geto suguru fic #geto suguru fanfic #nanami kento fanfic #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 1 year

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A consortium of political advocacy groups are pushing for an investigation into allegations that Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (I-AZ) has had staffers running her personal errands and performing sundry household tasks on the taxpayer dime.

As first reported in December by The Daily Beast, Sinema aides are bound by a 37-page memo that lays out a very specific set of demands: the Senator’s groceries are to be picked up promptly, her hour-long massages are to be booked weekly, and her internet service at home in D.C. must always be in working order. (If not, an assistant “should call Verizon to schedule a repair” so a staff member can be there to let a technician into her apartment, according to the memo.)

Now, 13 progressive nonprofits—including, among others, the Arizona Democracy Resource Center, Sunrise Movement Tempe, Patriotic Millionaires, and Vets Forward—have filed a formal complaint with the Senate Ethics Committee over Sinema’s alleged behavior.

The accusations “paint a picture of a Senator who is not only unresponsive to her constituents, but also disrespectful and even abusive to her employees and wholly unconcerned about her obligations under the law,” they wrote in a three-page letter dated Feb. 2.

“Most troubling,” the letter alleges, Sinema, who recently switched from the Democratic Party to govern as an Independent, “calls on staff members, who are employed and paid by the public and explicitly barred from campaign activity, to schedule and facilitate political fundraisers and meetings with campaign donors, presumably during the workday while they are on the clock and physically on federal property.”

The Hill was first to report on the existence of the letter.

Sinema, who has raised hackles among Democrats for blocking party initiatives, has previously faced criticism that she is “a difficult boss who walked the line of appropriate behavior with staff, and at times crossed it,” the letter continues. She is accused of having her scheduler drive her on errands in her personal car, and making staffers drive from Arizona to D.C. early in the COVID pandemic while she flew. While these actions may not have specifically violated the letter of the law, they did violate the spirit of the law, according to the groups’ missive. But the allegations in the memo made public by The Daily Beast in December “unambiguously point” to violations of the letter of the law, the letter says.

“Given that many of the activities that the Senator has allegedly required of staff appear to be unambiguous violations of Senate Ethics Committee guidelines that interpret the rules adopted by the Senate pursuant to the Constitution, you can understand that we find the allegations concerning,” the letter continues. “In the public interest, we ask that the Committee conduct a comprehensive and fair investigation and, in the event that these concerns are substantiated, we ask the Committee to take remedial action.”

In an email to The Daily Beast on Friday, a spokesperson for Sunrise Movement Tempe said the notion that Sinema forces Senate aides to attend to her personal concerns, which allegedly has included paying for her purchases and having to wait to be reimbursed, “is clearly unethical and an abuse of power.”

“Senate staff should be able to serve the people of Arizona and the Senator in her official legislative and representational duties without worrying about shopping and paying for her groceries or booking her massages,” the spokesperson said. “Arizonans deserve better.”

Craig Holman, a congressional ethics expert with D.C.-based nonprofit watchdog group Public Citizen, told The Daily Beast on Friday that the allegations against Sinema, if true, clearly constitute a violation of Senate ethics rules. Yet, Holman noted that Sinema insists she did not have a hand in drafting or implementing the staff guidelines in question.

“The Senate ethics committee could and should use its investigative authority to answer the allegations one way or the other,” he said. “However, the ethics committee operates in secrecy and, more often than not, buries such complaints to protect their colleagues. It is entirely unclear whether the public will get a definitive answer to these allegations any time soon.”

Following The Daily Beast article in December, Sinema spokeswoman Hannah Hurley insisted that the Senator “does not require staff to perform personal errands,” and that “the alleged information—sourced from anonymous quotes and a purported document I can’t verify—is not in line with official guidance from Sen. Sinema’s office and does not represent official policies of Sen. Sinema’s office.”

#us politics #news #the daily beast #independent #sen. kyrsten sinema #arizona #2023 #the hill #senate Ethics Committee #Arizona Democracy Resource Center #Sunrise Movement Tempe #Patriotic Millionaires #Vets Forward #Senate aides #Craig Holman #Senate ethics rules #us senate #Hannah Hurley

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