#< you are the only person my age in this very isolated village so im wildly desperate for your attention (may still be?) and-

[simikae]

experimenting with brushes + stumbling on the linear burn metamy

[petruchio]

not to beat a dead horse but honestly the most annoying thing about lover is that there really is a great album in there if you look for it.

like first there’s the progression of light in the album. how we move from artificial with the “glow of the vending machine” and “the christmas lights (in) january” until all the light disappears while “i wake in the night/i pace like a ghost" and "i whisper in the dark." but somehow, light still manages to creep in even during the night: “the moon is high/like your friends were the night that we first met," until “the morning comes and you’re not my baby." still, the speaker holds out hope that the morning can bring the lover back, saying that “this ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight” so we end up in the daylight. in some ways, the whole album is an expansion of the single line "starry eyes sparking up my darkest night" from reputation. we see that line spiral out in real time as lover progresses.

and then there's everything that happens in cars (im drunk in the back of the car/we were in the backseat drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar/we can follow the sparks i’ll drive/cut the headlights, summers a knife/i want to drive away with you/show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride) which in itself is revisiting something that occupies of so much of taylor's early work. so much of debut and fearless take place in cars (just a boy in a chevy truck/i was riding shotgun with my hair undone/in the passenger seat you put your eyes on me) because cars are one of the few places where a teenager can be afforded privacy. in some ways, extreme and isolating fame is a form of ongoing childhood (i never grew up, it's getting so old) (there's this thing people say about celebrities, that they get frozen at the age they got famous) and it's against this background that cars again take on that same significance as they did in adolescence.

and then there's all the repeated imagery of city streets and traffic lights (i’d never walk cornelia street again/i ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright/he got my heartbeat skipping down sixteenth avenue/i'm new york city/you're the west village/as if the streetlights pointed in an arrowhead leading us home) because lover is a story about a person becoming a city and a city becoming a lover. welcome to new york -- but we are no longer talking about the city itself, because new york has become one with the object of lover's affection. so it's no wonder that the dead center of the album is cornelia street and dbatc. side a ends with cornelia street and side b begins with dbatc, because they're two sides of the same coin: it's the story of a physical place becoming so wrapped up with another person that the speaker realizes that if that person were to leave them, they could never experience in that place the same way again. "windows flung right open" turn into "i look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up." "we were a fresh page on the desk" turns into "if the story's over, why am i still writing pages?" the streetlights that once "pointed us home" now cannot even tell us if it's going to be alright anymore. while the speaker can "get mystified by how this city screams your name," they could just as easily "see you everywhere" because if it ends, "the only thing we share is this small town." if the lover leaves, the entire city will be ruined.

and that's the fear on which the whole album is centered. lover is not an album on love, but on anxiety. what do you do after you've realized that one person has the power to truly break you? that if they ever left you, the very city that once welcomed you, waited for you, and taught you "a new soundtrack" would be ruined forever by the mere memory of them? that's where we begin to understand lover: that anxiety. we start with so many questions: "i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?" "who could ever leave me darling? but who could stay?" in this context, "can i go where you go? can we always be this close?" is not just romantic, it's an indication of this same terror. the speaker isn't confident enough to know that they can be together -- they still feel the need to ask. lover being placed so early on the tracklist indicates that it's a song that still comes from a place of anxiety.

at some point, we find a false confidence: i think he knows and paper rings lay out a vision of love that sounds almost simplistic again. we don't need anyone but each other, "i ain't gotta tell him i think he knows" and "i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings." the speaker tries to let go of the anxieties of cruel summer and the archer, but too soon, that cornelia street fear creeps in again. and so the speaker decides that the love must hold something false in it: "we might just get away with it" but "it's a false god." and eventually, inevitably, everything falls apart. and the speaker, so angry with themself for letting it happen again, returns to the questions we found earlier on the album: "why'd i have to break what i love so much?" there's an apology, and an acceptance that there has to be a stable friendship in order to make this work: "it's nice to have a friend" to have someone to "call my bluff," to admit that "you've been stressed out lately, yeah, me too." the lovers are able to be honest with each other here, to apologize, because they've built up a foundation of friendship underneath all the drama and anxiety and intensity of feeling we saw earlier in the album.

so after all this, when we finally reach the end, the realization is not that the love or the lover themselves is grand or beautiful or anything really. the realization is that the anxiety itself is what will ruin things: that's why the album ends with the lines "you gotta step into the daylight and let it go. just let it go." because after all this anxiety and stress and questioning, the only answer is to simply let it go. for the speaker to accept that the love is more important than the fear: "i want to be defined by the things that i love, not the things that i'm afraid of." and so the album ends, not with a statement of love for another person, but with a declaration about the self: i just think that you are what you love.

[old-stoneface]

saw ur tags, what was growing up in a spiritual school like?

hmmm... it was like a hybrid of things. i describe it as "spiritual" bc its maybe the easiest shorthand for what it was like. so, i went to a private waldorf school on the east coast from preschool through fourth grade, and thats a school heavily focused on enriching children's lives thru art and music and religious teachings, but not really...any religious teachings in particular. i learned christian stories, norse and greek mythology, and there was a heavy focus on learning folktales/fairytales in early grades. we would celebrate springtime with maypole dances, and every september we would have a michaelmas festival with a play by several of the classes (there was one class per grade) showing how st michael tamed the dragon that attacked the village. in the winter months we would do a lantern walk and see a small reenactment of st martin giving his cloak to a vagrant. so my younger formative years were surrounded by depictions of various religions. as u can imagine, that sort of environment was populated by a certain type of person, which is the type of person my mother turned into. there was a lot of support for crystal healing, a lot of eurythmy classes (a form of interpretive dance is the best description, i think), every class did a play every year and we all memorized poems about the rocks and leaves and sun and sky and how they were all alive and caring for us...we drew form drawings. instead of regular classes we would study one subject for a month at a time for several hours in the morning, drawing full color illustrations and writing stories on nice pieces of paper and binding them into books at the end of each block of studies. i grew up with a huge respect for nature and a great tonal and cultural disconnect from public school. waldorf instilled in me my love of art and music and theater. my biggest special interest is STILL mythology, and i reguarly think about/reference the teachings from my elementary school years even now. however, for as much as i loved it, i also feel very...um. isolated from mainstream society. i didnt watch any tv at all, i wasnt allowed on the internet or any computer for years, i only played with other kids at waldorf, and so now i have very little cultural connection with many other people my age. its weird! but waldorf very much helped me become the kind of person i am now, and while im disillusioned from most of those teachings about pseudosciences, i still believe in stuff like the instrinsic beauty of nature and the healing properties of the arts. the worst part of private arts and spiritual-type schools is always going to be the fact that you have to pay a whole lot of fucking money to go there.

tldr; the spiritual school i went to from the ages of 4 to 11 turned me into an artist who loves mythology and nature and poetry, but it also isolated me from mainstream society and caused a lot of pain and confusion when i began going to public school. 7/10

[blueskittlesart]

i am in a sad. how about some hc characteristics for link and zelda

this is so long because i have so many feelings and half of this is more analysis of their canon characters than headcanons but its IMPORTANT so i cant omit any of it but i dont want to make a super long post analyzing video game characters so it’s under the readmore hgfdfghj

SO link was always a very quiet kid even before the sword and everything. He wouldn’t speak unless spoken to and was shy enough that he had trouble socializing with the other kids in his village. However i dont think it really would have bothered him that much?? he found his own ways to have fun, climbing trees or shield surfing down the hills around hateno. Even as a kid, he was very independent and had a tendency to want to resolve problems on his own without going to anyone else for help, so he’d come home with two skinned knees insisting that he was fine and he didn’t need his mother’s help bandaging them up. (yes this drove his mother crazy, yes mipha also had to deal with this shit and that’s what made that cutscene between them so intimate, it was her telling him that he’s allowed to trust her enough to let her help and that she will always be there to heal him as many times as it takes. dont talk to me) Through his memories we see that zelda thinks, or thought, that he unquestioningly accepted his duty as the hylian champion and never had any struggles with his place in the world, but zelda tends to take things at face value and i find it hard to believe that link never had any regrets about his position. He was put into training as young as twelve years old, essentially taken away from his family and his life in order to serve a higher destiny. I think it probably lead to link placing all his value on how he can serve others. As far as he’s concerned, his only worth is contingent on his ability to protect and serve zelda and the other champions, which is why we see so much of him getting hurt or being reckless in order to protect others; he believes on some level that if he fails to be a good soldier he will not matter to anyone anymore. his only worth in his mind is based on how he can be “useful.” On a less depressing note tho i think hes very good with animals, espc horses! he finds them easier to interact with than people. dogs are the same, theres a reason it only takes like a minute of him standing in front of a dog for it to follow him wherever he goes. He also likes to cook and that’s not even a hc have you seen the little graphics for all the different food he can make? the PRESENTATION. he’s very deliberate in little things like that because it MATTERS to him that what he makes looks good! not for any particular reason, not to impress anyone but because he’s made it for himself and he wants to take pride in what he’s made. thanks for coming to my ted talk 

Ok now on to zelda. She has a lot more canon personality than link which like. she’s an npc and link is the player character so that’s to be expected BUT i still have a lot to say about her character. She’s headstrong and stubborn and emotional and it gets her into trouble. She has a tendency to take things at face value and she lets her emotions take over very quickly, which puts a strain on her relationships with others. Due to her status and the prophecy she was supposed to fulfill she was incredibly isolated as a child. she hardly ever interacted with anyone her own age, which is why she treats link the way she does at first; she doesn’t have any experience with anyone who isn’t required to be around her. She’s used to being condescended to while simultaneously being expected to be perfect in everything she does, and it’s made her... mean. she deliberately pushes people (read: link) away because she believes that no one really cares about her outside of her status and her supposed power, and what we see of her father’s actions only reinforce that perspective. she and link are very VERY similar in that regard, in that they place all their self-worth on their importance as hyrule’s prophecized saviors. the difference between them is that zelda fails, she is unable to be the perfect princess she is expected to be, and she has a support system in urbosa (and link, and as far as im concerned mipha too even tho they aren’t shown to be friends in canon) that allows her to recover from the trauma that forced her into that mindset. she learns to be more empathetic, she stops pushing people away and begins to consider how her actions affect others. she doesn’t necessarily lose the idea that she has to be useful completely, but she becomes aware of it and makes an effort to not take out her frustrations with herself on other people. Ok thats most of my Thoughts out of the way so onto the less depressing stuff, Zelda is INCREDIBLY smart. like child prodigy level intelligence. Her mind is very mathematically oriented, which is partially why she’s so drawn to sheikah tech. it’s something she understands very easily and can break down to its most bare functions in a matter of minutes. she was instrumental in getting literal ANCIENT TECH to work again and was respected by sheikah scholars. She is also very very curious, which helps her out in certain situations, but can be... problematic in others. she doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone. shes essentially always turned up to 11. She’s interested in animals, like link, but her interest is from a much more scientific standpoint than his. She has trouble with animals that require a more empathetic approach, like horses, because she prefers to think of animals and plants in terms of their benefit to her: a horse is transportation, a frog could be used in an elixir or a dish, etc etc. her curiosity and willingness to learn help her out a lot post-calamity when she finds herself traveling hyrule with link. though not very adept with weapons, at least at first, her quick thinking makes her a good strategist. she’s adept at finding weaknesses in enemies that may be less obvious to a common soldier (cough cough she literally highlights ganon’s weaknesses in the final battle of botw and i want them to keep that motif in botw2 because it makes so much sense for her nintendo PLEASE)

HELP THIS IS SO LONG AND IT CAN BARELY EVEN BE CONSIDERED HEADCANONS IM SO SORRY I JUST. HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABT BOTW LINK AND ZELDA DONT TALK TO ME

[dishonoredrpg]

Congratulations, ALLI! You’ve been accepted for the role of SEVEN OF SWORDS with the faceclaim of CILLIAN MURPHY. Canis is certainly a fucking concept, whom I adore to no end. He’s got a tenacious and willful sort of attitude about him, the kind of incredulous charm and wit that lends itself to an air of villainy and danger, and I think that he fits into the Seven of Swords like one fits into a well-made boot or glove. In spite of remaining leashed like a dog, he’s got no small amount of fire in him, and I’m eager to see what (or who!) he sinks his teeth into during gameplay. You’ve brought me a real gift, dropped it on my doorstep, and I am grateful.

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

— APPLICATION

OOC

NAME:    alli PRONOUNS:    she / her AGE:    twenty - one TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL:    cst /  i  am  currently  on  summer  break  and  have  the  ability  to  be  really  active ,  but  sometimes  things  do  come  up !  i  definitely  have  plenty  of  time  to  be  on  the  dash  with  several  posts  within  activity  limit  and  when  my  muse  is  high  ( i’ll  be  honest  i’m  a  hoe  for  high  fantasy )  my  activity  is  also  super  up ! ANYTHING ELSE?:    what’s the mead sis…….. the wenches are squabbling …….

IN CHARACTER

SKELETON:    seven  of  swords NAME:   efferus  aubenet   /   “canis”  &  “the  dog”   efferus  -  of  latin  meaning ,  “wild ,  savage ,  cruel ,  barbarous” .  a  name  canis  has  long  since  abandoned ,  preferring  even  the  subtle  jab  of  “the  dog”  given  to  him  by  opponents  of  his  crew  and  the  highborn  that  look  down  on  him .  he  finds  it  just  about  as  cutting  as  a  bread knife .  no  one  except  those  closest  to  him  ( ie .  the  pack )  even  know  this  name  exists . canis  -  latin  for  “ dog ” ,  though also  the  scientific  genus  for  all  canines ,  including  wolves  and  coyotes .  meant  to  symbolize  canis  as   the  leader  of  his  pack  of  wild  dogs ,  and  a  sign  of  respect ,  a  nickname  earned  on  the  streets  and  not  given  to  him  in  tyrholm . the  dog  -  a  nickname  received  while  working  under  king  septimus ,  by  those  that  see  the  second  fangs  as  dirty ,  unruly ,  savages .  also  by  revolters  who  see canis  as  a  dog  blindly  following  the  orders  of  a  tyrannical  king.  in  any  case ,  he  still  prefers  this  to  efferus .  sometimes  he  even  barks  in  response . FACECLAIM:    cillian  murphy ,  michiel  huisman   ( he / him  pronouns ,  cis  male ) AGE:    thirty - nine  ,  born  on  the  twenty - seventh  day  of  the  twelfth  month

DETAILS:   i  always  find  myself  drawn  to  underdog  characters ,  muses  that  have  overcome  more  than  most  others  could  even  imagine  to  find  themselves  in  their  present  position .  i  believe  there  is  so  much  depth  to  backgrounds  like  canis’s .  no family  so  he  created  his  own ,  nothing  to  his  name  so  he  created  his  own  legacy .  a  moral  compass that  tries  it’s  best  to  always  point  north .  that  fails ,  because  the  muse  is  so  painfully  human .  the  irony  of  a  sellsword  who  wants  more  for  himself ?  incredible .  when  i  was  skimming  the  skeletons ,  it  was  his  that  startled  practically  writing  itself ,  this  street  urchin  turned  warrior  figure ,  so  i  spent  a  lot  of  time  picking  apart  the  biography  until  i  was  left  with  canis . i  did  a  bit  of  research  on  the  seventh  of  swords  tarot  card ,  but  let  me  tell  you  ..  i  was  so  pleasantly  surprised  and  intrigued  when  i  did .  on  one  hand ,  when  upright ,  seven  of  swords  means  scheming ,  resourcefulness ,  cunning ,  and  lies ,  all  traits  that  have  gotten  canis  to  where  he  is  today ,  however  negative ,  the  legacy  he’s  forged  for  himself  and  all  deeply  tied  to  his  work .  however ,  when  reversed ,  the  seven  of  swords  can  mean  confession ,  conscience ,  regret ,  and  maliciousness ,  which  i  think  lend  beautifully  to  this  character’s  private  struggles .  there  is  a  very  heavy  mix  of  negative  and  positive  attributes  leant  towards  seven  of  sword’s  core  character ,  someone  who  wants  to  do  right  by  themselves  at  great  cost .  when  interpreting  the  tarot  as  canis ,  i  was  drawn  to  the  maliciousness  and  the  regret  ( in  sometimes  equal  measure )  of  the  reversed  card .  i  believe  there  is  so  much  more  to  this  character  than  just  his  web  of  scheming  and  lies ,  that  canis’s  true  self  comes  from  somewhere  within ,  and  i’m  really  excited  to  explore  his  inner  conflicts.  this  man  has  so  many  issues  that  he’s  buried  and  i  think  the  possibility  of  him  becoming  a  part  of  the  revolution?  impeccable.  my  muse  for  this  skeleton ?  through  the  roof .

BACKGROUND  

I .  O’ ROMULUS  AND  REMUS ,  CASTOR  AND  POLLUX ,  WHAT  IS  ONE  WITHOUT  THE  OTHER ?   a  twin ,  you  were  told ,  though  it  feels  like  something  you  should  never  be  permitted  to  forget.  you’ve  never  felt  him there ,  not  like  a  phantom  limb  or  a  guiding  whisper.  just  a  story ,  when ��you’re  feeling  ungrateful  for  your  lot  in  this  realm ,  that  there  is  only  one  where  there  once  was  two.  born  in  the  dead  of  winter  --  the  one  that  bit  at  the  napes  of  even  the  most  fur  cloaked  nobility  of  markholm ,  that  anyone  unlucky  enough  to  live  through  it  can  still  recall  as  “ceaseless”   --   and  childbirth  takes  your  mother  as  it  goes.  two  children ,  born  sickly ,  cold.  so  you  are  dubbed  efferus ,  a  savage  beast  who  can  claw  his  way  into  life ,  barely  holding  onto  breath ,  already  having  taken  a  life.   it  takes  a  village  to  raise  motherless  boys.  sometimes  it  takes  more  than  that.  your  brother  doesn’t  make  it  past  the  winter ,  but  you  keep  growing ,  getting  stronger  by  the  day ,  and  finally  spring  flowers  bloom  forth  from  hard  soil.  the  goat  farmer  next  door  tells  your  father  you  are  a  resilient  one ,  that  the  undying  smiled  upon  him.  another  miracle ,  that  your  life  could  be  a  blessing  and  not  a  curse.   as  long  as  you  knew  him ,  your  father  kept  steadfast  in  deep  religion ,  devout ,  praying  over  the  crops.  the  cattle.  the  harvest.  even  your  birth ,  a  story  he  recants  so  mystically  it’s  hard  to  imagine  you  were  there.  “we  all  bled  fer  you ,”  he  always  starts ,  like  it’s  your  fault ,  “my  son ,  my  son.  let  all  else  be  damned  fer  ‘im.”  two  lives  for  the  price  of  one ,  he  reminds  you ,  and  you’re  just  a  boy ,  but  you  still  find  it  all  absurd.  there’s  never  been a rhyme  or  reason  to  suffering.  “you  make  a  deal  with  the  undying  and  you  get  what  you  paid  fer.”  sometimes  it  seems  a  compliment.  others ..  you  aren’t  so  sure.   your  father  hath  no  mercy  for  the  weak  or  spineless ,  though  he  wasn’t  an  inherently  evil  man  either ,  at  least  not  in  the  figments  you  can  conjure  of  him.  you  plow  the  fields ,  with  hands  so  rough  with  calluses  you  can’t  feel  the  hilt  of  the  axe  you  use  to  cut  the  firewood.  you  milk  the  cows ,  so  gentle  with  great  beasts  you  start  to  forget  your  name.  you’re  skin  and  bone  and  beating  heart  ,  not  much  to  look  at ,  but  just  the  blessing  your  father  asked  for  all  the  same.  a  good  boy ,  in  that  you  were  capable  and  healthy  and  strong.  a  bad  seed ,  in  that  you  cared  for  little  and  didn’t  always  do  as  you  were  told.   it’s  your  tenth  winter  when  frostbitten  tendrils  take  first  your  farm ,  and  then  your  father.  you  make  a  deal  with  the  undying  and  you  get  what  you  paid  for ,  you  remember ,  and  it  almost  makes  you  laugh.  perhaps  it’s  not  so  funny  that  you  mourn  very  little  the  life  you  lost.  perhaps  still  it  is  a  testament  to  your  strength ,  a  boy  of  only  ten  who  shoulders  already  a  lifetime  of  death  and  decay.  who  makes  it  look  a  load  easy  to  bear.  who  are  you ,  efferus  aubenet?  and  who  will  you  become?

II .  A  MIRRORED  MIDAS  ,  IF  EVERYTHING  HE  HAD  TOUCHED  TURNED  TO  DEATH  AND  ROT .   a  street  urchin  with  no  farm ,  no  family ,  and  most  prominently  no  coin.  winters  slip  away  like  sand  through  an  hourglass ,  and  it’s  all  you  can  do  to  keep  track  of  the  time  that  folds  beneath  you.  one  year ,  and  you’re  frail  and  quiet  and  know  only  to  keep  to  yourself.  three  years  and  you’ve  developed  a  taste  for  fighting ,  scrappy  as  you  are.  it’s  just  a  game ,  in  the  beginning ,  one  the  other  coinless  children  keep  telling  you  you’re  too  good  at ,  “it’s  no  fun  fighting  a  hungry  dog.”  five  years  and  you’re  taller ,  more  meat  to  your  bones.  you’re  better  at  sneaking  things  out  of   the  market ,  extra  to  feed  your  friends.  you  learned  the  hard  way  what  happens  if  you  don’t  bring  back  enough ,  if  you  turn  a  blind  eye  to  people  who  call  out  your  name.  you  hear  it  when  you  dream ,  half  awake  in  chilled  darkness.   “i’m  so  hungry,  efferus.  i’m  so  hungry.”   you  start  going  by  canis.  it  makes  it  easier  to  sleep.   six ,  seven  years  and  you’re  so  good  at  fighting  that  your  pockets  start  to  feel  heavy.  cobbled  streets  whisper  canis  when  you  cross.  bruised  fists  and  a  bloody  conscience ,  not  all soldiers  make  it  out  of  battle  alive.  it  dawns  on  you ,  slowly  but  with  all  the  force  of  a  crack  of  lightning ,  why  the  others  like  to  call  you  dog.  maybe  it’s  because  you  were  born  from  death ,  or  because  you  know  loss  so  well  it  colors  your  eyelids  when  you  blink ,  but  it  seems  all  you’re  good  for.  you  discover  a  rage  within  you ,  one  which  you’re  sure  ( you  hope ,  foolish  as  it  is )  any  man  is  capable  of ,  if  pushed  too  far.  but  it’s  directionless ,  vile  in  the  way  it  sits  inside  your  chambered  heart.  there  is  nothing  more  universal  than  pain.  nothing  more  isolating  than  anger.  a  boy  with  a  taste  for  blood.  so  blind  to  the  way  you  snap ,  like  branch  under  boot ,  when  you  push  too  hard.  what  place  is  there  for  you  in  an  unforgiving  world ,  wracked  with  hardship?  at  whose  table  do  you  dine?   you  knew  love  once ,  it  felt  like  sharing  bread  and  blankets  and  tales  of  woe.  like  years  on  the  streets  relying  only  on  wit  and  steadfast  determination  to  survive.  like  knowing  a  person  fully ,  inside  and  out ,  as  you’d  always  known  yourself.  that  too  would  be  taken  from  you ,  like  everything  else.  for  the  price  of  just  a  single  coin ,  you  watched  your  love  take  their  last  breath ,  watched  the  thief  make  off  with  their  blood  money ,  felt  truly  and  terribly  powerless.  worse  than  losing  your  father  to  deep  winter  chill  you  lost  your  first  love  to  a  blade.  and  in  the  end ,  it  meant  nothing.     the  sons  of  argos  could  not  undo  what  you’d  done ,  what  had  been  done  to  you ,  but  maybe  you  could  give  back  tenfold.  it  starts  small ,  at  a  table  in  your  favorite  tavern ,  as  all  great  plots  tended  to  do.  an  invitation  to  join  a  company  you’d  heard  about  only  in  whispers.  you  saw  espace ,  penance  where  others  saw  a  home ,  but  that  would  always  be  enough  for  you.  it  was  intended  to  be  permanent ,  a  family  you  couldn’t  lose ,  under  a  friend  who  would  lay  down  their  life  for  the  men ,  women ,  and  children  under  their  protection.  a  life  of  adventure  to  call  your  own  and  you  didn’t  need  to  suffer  anymore.  you  had  but  one  skill ,  it  seemed ,  beyond  tending  to  the  herd  and  trimming  too  tall  crops ,  and  your  father  once  taught  you  that  skill  fed  fortune  ( though  the  money ,  you’d  find ,  would  come  later ) .  you  don’t  think  the  sons  is  quite  what  your  dearly  departed  had  in  mind ,  and  this  makes  your  smile  widen.  you’ve  always  found  humor  in  odd  places.     what  follows  is  a  career  far  short  of  extravagant ,  fighting  crime  like  a  bunch  of  vigilanties ,  tied  to  a  city  state  that  knows  little  of  its  own  streets.  you  hunger  for  travel ,  to  sink  your  teeth  into  shores  unseen ,  land  untended.  to  make  a  real  name  for  yourself  and  anyone  who  followed  suit.  “mind  your  place ,  mutt,”  you  hear  more  than  once ,  and  you  want  to  swat  the  others  away  like  flies  buzzing  in  swelling  ears.  but  there’s  something  sharp ,  too ,  like  a  cut  that  just  won’t  heal.  your  voice  is  too  loud  amongst  the  rest ,  your  name  --  the  name  you  paid  for  in  blood  --  nothing  next  to  strength’s.  the  captain  you  were  meant  to  worship  turned  to  dust  in  your  heavy  fist ,  the  family  you  forged  alongside  them  never  yours  to  call  your  own.  you  tell  yourself  they  betrayed  you ,  like  everything  else  in  this  life  they  gave  you  nothing  to  hold  onto  save  for  the  back  of  their  coattails ,  but  in  truth  you  were  never  meant  to  stay.  minding  your  place  felt  a  lot  like  digging  six  feet  down  to  lay  rest.   it’s  like  waking  from  a  dream ,  one  you  push  down  when  it  returns  to  you  in  the  night ,  leaving  the  sons  for  good.  four  winters  you  slept  under  their  tents ,  ate  at  their  table ,  and  still  you  feel  nothing  when  you  pack  what’s  yours  ( and  maybe  some  of  what  isn’t ,  but  who  would  dare  come  looking  for  it? )  and  go.  no  one  follows ,  no  one  even  pleads  your  case ,  and  when  you  see  them  playing  knights  on  the  docks  the  fire  in  you  swells.  it’s  all  rot  now.

III .  WHERE  WOULD  ICARUS  BE  NOW ,  IF  SOMEONE  WISE  HAD  CLIPPED  CURSED  WINGS?      iriebury  is  the  stank  of  unwashed  flesh ,  the  heat  of  southern  sun ,  something  to  conquer.  the  citizens  are  mean  and  the  crime  meaner.  it  makes  tyrholm  look  a  lot  like  playing  pretend ,  the  sons  seem  like  a  group  of  toy  soldiers.  to  survive  in  iriebury  you  need  your  bark ,  you  need  your  bite.  naturally , you  thrive.   it  takes  just  one  winter ,  one  warm  southern  winter ,  before  you  have  something  to  call  a  crew  of  your  very  own.  the  second  fangs ,  a  handful  of  beaten  down ,  nearly  finished  off  mutts  that  think  you  look  like  a  future.  you’ll  find  one  day ,  when  you’ve  turned  to  face  the  wrong  end  of  a  sword ,  these  dogs’  loyalty  knows  no  bounds.  and  maybe  you  do  have  a  family  after  all.  they  don’t  look  like  warriors  born  for  battle ,  but  they’re  sharp  on  every  edge  and  speak  of  you  like  you  hung  the  moon.  like  a  prophecy  spun  from  the  undying  herself.  the  queen  of  iriebury’s  no  different ,  when  you  flash  her  a  smile  and  run  a  sword  through  her  guard.  this  is  your  destiny.   with  work  and  full  bellies ,  the  second  fangs  grow ,  picking  up  more  men  and  women  the  rest  of  markholm  cast  aside ,  giving  them  all  purpose.  leadership  becomes  you ,  you’re  kind  in  places  other  captains  breathe  fire.  your  men  adore  you ,  and  maybe  this  is  why  it’s  easy  to  lose  yourself  a  bit.  you’ve  always  been  looking  for  him ,  that  voice  inside  of  you  that  has  guided  every  confident  step ,  and  you  really  start  to  believe  you’ve  found  him  at  the  end  of  a blade.     what  you  do  isn’t  pretty like  life  in  a  castle ,  it  isn’t  gentle  like  the  farm  or  humble  like  a  temple ,  but  it  suits  you.  you  find  company  at  the  bottom  of  a  bottle ,  family  inside  the  taverns  and  brothels ,  atop  dirty  cobblestone.  it  all  feels  a  lot  like  honor ,  like  duty.  you’re  known  for  your  loyalty  and  cunning  among  burdened  skill.  work  lends  to  virtue  or  some  mirrored  image  of  the  sort.  the  second  fangs  take  the  jobs  you  approve ,  not  the  ones  the  queen  hands  you ,  nails  stained  with  blood ,  and   who  knew  a  mercenary  crew  with  such  an  eye  for  morality?  bastards  that  comb  the  streets  but  speak  with  love  fresh  on  their  lips.  you’re  a  heathen  with  heart ,  of  that  not  even  the  fiercest  opponents  can  dispute.  maybe  there  is  a  place  in  this  world  for  nameless ,  coinless  men  with  a  hunger  for  something  more.  you  give  back  to  your  beloved  pack  what  they  give  to  you ;  everything ,  everything  and  then  some.  a  life  that  means  more  than  scraping  the  bottom  of  the  barrel.   you  can’t  carry  on  like  this  forever  and  survive ,  and  it’s  only  a  matter  of  time  before  real  gold  starts  knocking.  a  steady  job ,  you’re  promised.  a  lifetime  of  stability ,  peace.  you  know  more  of  the  king  of  tyrholm than  you  let  on ,  and  maybe  you  are  naive  to  trust  the  word  of  a  woman  who  did  not  raise  herself ,  but  when  you  look  at  your  company’s  worn  faces  and  tired  smiles ,  weathered  from  southern  strife ,  it’s  never  been   easier  to  bend  a  knee.     some  odd  winters ,  some  odd  springs ,  lived  with  modest  lavesty.  septimus  is  an  arse  of  a  man  that  whispers  corroded  bidding  into  your  graceless  ear.  no  one  but  the  second  fangs  knows  how  much  you  shake ,  when  the  job  is  done  and  you’re  safe  at  home.  how  much  weight  you  shoulder ,  for  yourself ,  for  your  men ,  for  the  lives  you’ve  taken.  the  lives  you  will  take.  your  crew  was  never  meant  to  become  a  rebellion.  the  glory  feels  lost ,  you’re  a  knight  without  chivalry ,  a  wolf  without  teeth.  you  hear  dog  more  than  your  own  name  and  you  bite  back  bile  when  you  look  in  a  mirror ,  but  still ,  you  think ,  you  would  do  it  all  over  again.     the  second  fangs  are  a  happy  crew ,  well  fed  and  housed  and  nothing  like  the  orphans  you  sheltered  so  many  moons  ago.  when  it  starts  to  feel  like  you  have  your  own  sons  of  argos  you  shelf  the  thought.  your  pack  looks  at  you ,  strong  and  fit  and  still  just  a  bit  withered ,  and  laugh  and  cheer.  “yer  getting  old,  canis,”  they  jest ,  when  you  stumble  into  bed.  “hunch - backed  from  all  that  gold  in  yer  pockets.”  you’ve  always  been  wiser  than  most  of  them ,  something  raw  in  your  heart  that  keeps  it  beating  steadfast.  better  you  than  them ,  you  know.  most  men  would  crack  at  what  you’d  seen.  what  you  know.     there’s  good  to  be  found ,  once  you  learn  how  to  look ,  like  the  devotion  of  judgement  ,  a  beauty  in  worship  that  reminds  you  of  all  your  father’s  useless  praying.  peaceful  in  all  it’s  absurdity.  there’s  friendship  in  odd  places ,  with  the  empress  you  serve.  you  find  it  hard  to  trust  in  tyrholm ,  unaccustomed  to  the  politics  of  a  ruling  class ,  the  society  that  never  once  smiled  down  on  a  farm  boy  and  his  widowed  father.  you  want  to  be  wise  and  cunning ,  still  sometimes  you  feel  inadequate  next  to  those  raised  in  education ,  but  the  queen  saw  your  potential  before  anyone  else  in  the  whole  retched  kingdom ,  and  that  has  to  mean  something.  there’s  the  fool ,  a  real  dog  you  sometimes  think ,  who  mirrors  your  old  captain  so  much  it  makes  your  skin  crawl.  they  aren’t  so  bad ,  but  it’s  hard  for  you  to  look  up  at  someone  who  serves  at  the  hand  of  the  king.  you  wonder  if  others  think  the  same  of  you.  fools ,  the  whole  lot  of  them.   you  know  what  the  queen  expects  of  you ,  your  word  is  your  livelihood ,  but  these  things  take  time.  for  now ,  you’re  comfortable ;  your  cup  is  full.  there’s  always  been  something  about  wars  to  come  that  feels  like  home ,  ragged  and  battle  scarred  thing  that  you  are.  and  besides ,  it’s  easier  to  put  out  a  fire  that  burns  inside  your  ribs  than  one  that  swallows  an  entire  kingdom ,  of  this  you  are  certain.

PLOT IDEAS

STRENGTH:   oh  boy  oh  man.  canis  can’t  hold  his  tongue  with  distaste  even  if  he  tried ,  and  he  definitely  doesn’t  try  with  them.  his  anger  often  gets  the  better  of  him  and  i  believe  he  would  try  to  confront  strength  every  chance  he  gets.  he  sees  this  skeleton  as  nothing  more  than  the  king’s  right  hand  ( literally  so  exciting  to  me  that  strength  is  also  a  revolter  and  i’m  sure  neither  of  them  know  they’re  destined  to  work  on  the  same  side  again?? )   and  i  think  he  reflects  a  lot  of  his  own  inadequacies  onto  this  skeleton ,  a  lot  of  his  failure.  with  such  a  tension  relationship  i’d  like  to  see  fights  break  out ..  maybe  even  between  their  own  respective  men  that  they’d  have  to  quell.  far  down  the  line  even  settling  their  differences  and  working  together  as  the  military  leaders  of  a  revolution  because  who  is  better  suited  for  the  job  than  them?  but  it  would  take  a  big  blow  to  canis’s  pride  to  share  such  a  job ,  to  ever  work  alongside  this  skeleton  instead  of  against  them  like  he  always  has.  so  all  around?  here  for  it  all. NINE OF WANDS:   canis  looks  at  them  and  sees  passion  he  once  was  sure  he  felt ,  the  sharp  thing  in  his  gut  that  once  spurred  him  to  forge  his  own  path  in  a  world  that  never  once  showed  him  kindness.  his  scars  are  internal ,  but  they  wear  their  scar  like  a  badge  of  honor ,  at  least  that’s  how  canis  sees  it.  he’d  love  to  not  have  to  kill  the  king  himself ,  even  if  he  would  never  admit  it.  it  means  a  safer  life  for  his  men ,  it  means  being  done  with  tyrholm  and  a  life  of  ease  and  travel ,  everything  he’s  always  wanted  and  never  seemed  to  be  able  to  grasp.  i  wonder  if  them  growing  closer  through  sparring  and  their  ability  to  provide  him  the  best  weapons  he’s  ever  seen  could  change  his  opinion  on  wanting  them  to  kill  the  king  in  a  fit  of  rage??  i  could  see  canis  wanted  to  strategize  with  them ,  in  the  end ,  once  he’s  done  poking  the  bear.  love  this  gift  of  a  connection  a  lot !!!! THE EMPRESS:   definite  ass  kissing  going  on  here.  canis  is  more  than  grateful  he  was  hired  by  her  and  not  the  king ,  though  i  do  think  he  might  resent  them  a  little  for  the  work  the  king  makes  his  company  do.  he  prefers  to  take  jobs  from  them ,  when  ordered ,  though  i  feel  their  relationship  at  this  point  goes  beyond  just  work  like  it  does  with  septimus.  he  trusts  them  and  it  does  help  him  to  sleep  at  night  thinking  he  could  be  serving  their  hand  and  not  septimus’s.  also  entirely  possibly  they  call  him  the  dog  but  with  them  it  doesn’t  feel  like  malice.  he  would  never  dare  disrespect  the  queen ,  especially  one  he  sees  goodness in ,  sees  his  entire  future  in.  would  be  really  interesting  if  canis  even  is  a  little  too  friendly  with  them ,  giving  them  a  hard  time  where  maybe  no  one  else  would  dare  to  do ,  an  annoying  prick  in  her  side  that  she  NEEDS  to  get  what  she  wants. THE HERMIT:   i  think  he  has  a  lot  of  respect  for  the  hermit.  in  ways  that  his  pride  keeps  him  from  seeing  his  similarities  with  strength ,  he  sees  so  much  of  who  he  once  was  in  them.  young ,  making  their  own  way ,  maybe  even  some  of  the  same  rage ,  though  canis  has  no  place  to  put  his  own.  i  feel  like  if  the  respect  was  mutual  they  could  have  a  friendly  relationship ,  canis  even  pushing  advice  onto  them  they  might  not  want  or  need.  if  a  revolution  came  he  would  back  them.  somewhere ,  he  probably  even  sees  them  as  something  of  a  good  king.  canis  doesn’t  trust  them  fully ,  but  he  could  drink  with  them ,  knows  the  second  fangs  would  treat  them  kindly  as  well. THE HIGH PRIESTESS:   canis  is  scared  of  little ,  but  he’s  scared  shitless  of  them.  he  avoids  them  at  all  costs ,  looks  the  other  way  when  they’re  brought  to  the  same  space.  he  doesn’t  talk  kindly  of  necromancers ,  though  maybe  there  is  some  envy  there  he  needs  to  address.  he’s  sure  this  doesn’t  go  unnoticed ,  not  with  all  their  years  of  wisdom.  i  think  it  could  be  really  interesting  though  if  one  of  his  closest  friends  is  killed  on  a  job  and  they  bring  them  back  as  he  watches ,  sees  this  power  first  hand ,  feels  even  a  debt  is  owed  though  none  of  the  fear  is  gone.  a  lot  of  possibilities ,  i  could  see  the  second  fangs  might  be  dying  a  lot  more  often  pretty  soon ... JUSTICE:   the  world  calls  canis  the  dog  because  they  see  him  as  filth ,  as  something  mangey  that  feeds  from  table  scraps  of  the  king ,  but  canis  sees  that  justice  is  the  real  dog.  and  he  pities  him  for  it.  there’s  little  glory  in  the  work  of  a  bodyguard ,  and  maybe  canis  wonders  how  justice  would  fair  in  his  own  company.  never  the  less ,  i  think  they  could  butt  heads  just  as  easily  as  they  could  share  a  pint.  maybe  they’ve  even  fought  in  some  of  the  same  battles ,  know  each  other  from  war  torn  lives  and  have  a  bond  because  of  this.  lots  of  potential  for  both  malice  and  comradery ,  no  matter  what  line  of  the  revolution  they  tread. THE LOVERS:   canis  sees  himself  and  more  in  them.  he  doesn’t  pity  easily ,  has  an  ability  to  find  the  strength  in  even  the  smallest  mouse ,  but  he  pities  the  lovers.  in  some  ways ,  i  think  he  wants  what  they  have ,  longs  for  something  as  fulfilling  as  love ,  and  doesn’t  want  to  see  this  squashed.  every  day  he  gets  closer  to  telling  them  of  the  war  to  come.  i  really  wonder  how  long  he  can  go  without  letting  anything  slip ,  especially  if  they  look  at  him  with  gentleness  or  show  him  great  kindness.  he  feels  they  need  to  prepare ,  like  he  is ,  for  a  future  of  destruction.   THE MOON:   okay okay ..  i  have  two  different  paths  that  i  think  might  be  interesting  with  this  skeleton  depending  on  what  gets  plotted  out.  BUT ..  i could imagine  canis  stumbles  into  their  office  after  being  badly  injured  on  the  job ,  probably  requesting  some  random  herb  because  it  HURTS  and  he’s  WEAK  and  he  needs  it  to  be  DONE  WITH.  one  path  would  lead  to  the  moon  healing  canis ,  and  once  he  discovers  this  ability  he  probably  begs  and  bribes  ( heavily.  the  man  is  too  wealthy  for  his  own  good  now ,  and  what  else  is  he  going  to  buy?  new  boots?  his  work  just  fine. )  them  to  start  visiting  the  second  fangs  around  the  city  to  heal  them  in  secret.  he’ll  do  anything  for  their  ensured  safety.  the  other  path  works  quite  the  same ,  only  with  no  healing ,  just  plants ,  and  he’d  be  very  dependent  on  this  muse  either  way  because  of  the  miracles  they’re  able  to  work  with  his  men.  really  really excited  for  the  possibilities  of  plots  with  this  skeleton. THE TOWER:   a  backstory  plot  for  these  muses  is  calling  my  name??  like  maybe  the  tower  and  canis  had  a  deal  where  the  second  fangs  would  assist  them  and  their  men  on  voyages  and  pillages  for  a  cut  of  the  treasure  when  all  was  said  and  done ,  back  when  the  second  fangs  were  fresher  and  poorer  and  in  desperate  need  of  work.  and  maybe  one  of  the  two  betrayed  the  other  on  one  of  these  trips ,  with  greed  for  treasure  or  something of the like?  things  could  be  tense  between  them  now ,  at  each  other’s  throats.  OR  there  could  have  never  been  a  betrayal  and  they’re  actually  quite  good  friends  who  know  a  little  too  much  about  each  other’s  pasts ,  and  canis  offers  the  tower  company  amongst  the  pack  knowing  he’s  lived  through  canis’s  own  worst  nightmare.  the  terrifying  ordeal  of  being  known.  canis  could  definitely  trust  them  more  than  he  should.  this  one  has  me  really  excited  i  won’t  lie.

CHARACTER DEATH:    canis  would  quite  literally  volunteer  for  this  so  that’s  a  big  yes  from me.

WRITING SAMPLE

THE SELF PARA:  the tent is warm and the burn of the lamplight casts shadows across familiar faces. the second fangs. his pack, he always calls them, like they’re puppies and not vicious mercenaries. canis is most comfortable here, at ease, his usually pin straight posture relaxed despite the job he knows lays ahead of them. it’s not one he’s entirely comfortable with, an uprising in a poor village. always messy, always felt a bit like putting down a weakened calf at the farm. so they drink, to forget the day that lies ahead, the uncountable days behind. the faces. faces. faces, that echo like screams.   he can’t recall who speaks first, but it was likely canis himself, always a little too bold when his body buzzed with liquid courage. “that’s not what i’m asking,” one of his men corrects with a nudge of canis’s shoulder, always aggressive with each other, a pack of wolves nipping at each other’s heels. “the death’s on your hands. but it’s meant to be a good one. worth while.” and the captain’s own eyes twinkle uncharacteristically, perhaps because his inner conscious knows what his mouth does not. that the answer lies waiting at the tip of his tongue, a snarling beast of a target.     “and how much coin are we gonna get fer it?” ajax jests, but canis can see the gold flashing in front of his face, even from across the table. canis barks out a laugh, and they all bang their goblets on the table.   “aye,” in unison. they know each other inside and out, they speak a language strange and foreign. a family with many moons in their pockets. how many knights can say that?   “no coin,” canis finally adds. “no glory. no private dance at the brothel,” eying ren, and there’s another chorus of easy laughter, more aye’s.   “one of the nobles,” lawren grunts, and at first there’s just ringing silence. a paranoia that winds it’s way through the small group. they trust each other with their lives but this .. it’s like blasphemy. it’s revolution uncurling within them, more than just a job, it’s a force awakening. lawren speaks again, gentler, louder. “undying knows they’re all pricks.” and it’s easy again, more aye’s, cups overflowing with wine and ale.   but in between the laughter, he feels the wrench in his gut, the rage that threatens to flare. an allegiance of blood and blind faith  --  it reminds him so much of religion that he squirms. maybe his answer lies in a job, with wicked tendrils wrapped around his neck like a leash. the dog. how wrong would it be to bite the hand that feeds you? “i’d cut off my ring fingers and swear to celibacy to be rid of the fuck all king already,” canis growls, his knuckles white where he grips tight on his cup. and it’s quiet again. when he speaks they listen, they all listen, even the highborn in the castle, like he’s a wave crashing on shore. commanding attention. demanding it.   “you’re spending too much time with the clerics,” ren groans, with a face like a fox, her hair hanging limply in her face. he can’t tell if she’s smiling or frowning, but they’re nodding in agreement. all of them.    “what good’s that sack of shit king, anyway?” lawren chimes in, and then it’s deafening chatter. all canis can do is listen, absorb the pain of his men, the frustration, see himself reflected in their woes. say what any outsider will about his crew, maybe they are all mutts. one mind, one body, one restless spirit. tired of being used, of being chained to a cause that tries to fill deep chasms in bleeding hearts with gold. what is the price of true freedom?   “maybe the end is closer than you think, canis,” a small voice that rises above the others. a girl, mary, raised in the pack, only nearing her seventeenth summer. and she’s a legacy of everything canis has created, the family he wove with bruised and boney fingers. “we haven’t lost a battle, yet.” and she’s right, of course she’s right, whip smart and flea bitten. if there is to be a revolution, aid of the pack would be an immense advantage. it isn’t arrogance with which his men speak. it’s truth.   he has to chew on the suggestion, sharp glass in his mouth with every bite, impossible to digest, but maybe with the backing of his crew .. canis has trouble seeing the future beyond a sack of coins and a full bottle of ale. he knows little of politics, even after all his withered years serving as something of a king himself. it’s overwhelming, and he thinks his whole arm shakes when he raises his goblet. “nasty fuckers,” but his teeth shine in the lamplight, like fangs. like canines. “trying to get your own captain killed.” but when they clink glasses, it feels like a deal has been made, like he owes this death to more than just the queen, like the undying herself is watching.

EXTRAS

VOICE :   canis  has  an  eclectic  sort  of  accent ,  a  combination  of  all  of  the  people  he  met  while  living  on  the  street ,  his  father ,  the  lands  he’s  traveled  and  settled  into  with  his  companies .  he  constantly  sticks  out  as  an  outsider ,  no  matter  where  he  is .  he  doesn’t  mind  this  sense  of  otherness  because  whenever  canis  goes ,  his  family  is  never  far . canis’s  mockblog  can  be  found  HERE his  pinterest  can  be  found  HERE   ( blood  tw )

[qdtquietdownthere]

Day 11- A day of reflecting in an art gallery and painting, glueing and giggling in the sun.

Day 11

The waking up process, if it can be called a process, is the trickiest part of the residency actually. Waking up in your own bed, in Tottenham, seeing your flatmates, talking about the day ahead. It is a different world. I have to go from that, to the tube, then be in Pimlico. To this new, yet familiar place of comfort. What is the most exhausting is this point of change and transition- waking up in the life you are used to then diving into a day of fresh, exiting, uncertainty. No one really understands whats going on, and no one really wants to listen to me describing every detail of my day. I do not think this is something I would enjoy to do either. It’s lonesome in this sense. A temporary community which no one else is experiencing. That is so special though. I feel useful, like my existence and participation means something. 

I am very aware it is ending. Second last day. I am so comfortable now.

I walk around the area following a gentle map. I have walked these streets before. The Thames, the Bridge, the view of brutal Battersea, the tiny parks and the contrasts. There are so many contrasting textures, architecture and people. An area of extreme wealth, and then a definite lack of it. I feel uncomfortable with it at points. In my favourite park which sits just behind Tate Britain I watch a very wealthy man spend half an hour with a puppy trainer and his pedigree puppy. He tells me they have traveled from Devon. There is a visible contrast when you look for it. You can maybe hear it more than you can see it. I hear coffee orders which are 3 minutes long, decaf, soy, skinny milk. At the community centre in Churchill Gardens a cup of tea will always be milk and one sugar. I wonder where I sit in this pool of people, I wonder where other people see me belonging.

CCA is based next to Tate Britain and I try to go in to see the degree show but I am told it ended last week. There aren't many students around, ever. The whole time I have been in Pimlico I haven't noticed anyone who jumped out to me as looking like a student (whatever that means). I guess they have all gone home for summer. Over the past week I have seen a few Chinese students, as I guess flying home at such a high price isn't necessarily an option for international students. I wonder about the loneliness of living in this city when your purpose of being here is to purely be a student. I did my undergraduate at Leeds and it was the loneliest time for me. Sometimes I would walk to town, to the big Boots and back, just to get out, see people and feel like I was a part of what everyone else was doing. I worked all through university but I didn't really hang out with work friends, and with a class size of 10, well, there wasn't much social life going on. I wish I had gone out more, joined societies. Even if they didn't interest me, I should have pushed myself. I was nineteen and maybe I was shy, but I think what kept me being lonely was a reluctancy to say I was lonely to anyone apart from my family and friends who all lived back home in Edinburgh. I think about the mother I met during the babies library session at Victoria Library and how she was frustrated there were no classes on for her thirteen year old son. Kids don't want to look uncool, and I think this can continue for some people into university. There is a pool of opportunity in this pool of young people who are desperate to engage in a world, but scared and uncertain how to. No one whats to stand out from the self conscious crowd of teenagers and there is opportunity in making activities which both work with, and eradicate this. 

I walk across the courtyard from CCA and find a different art show; “Observer: John Latham and the Distant Perspective”. Latham’s body of work explores derelict land outside of Edinburgh and was developed from an artist placement with the Scottish Development Agency. The three month long artist residences took place in different locations, from industrial settings such as fishing villages to a residency exploring the mental health care service (https://mapmagazine.co.uk/john-latham-incidental-person). What was the desired outcome of these residencies? Well, the hope was that by involving an artist, “his creative intelligence or imagination can spark off ideas, possibilities and actions” ultimately benefiting development projects in Scotland (Lyddon, 2007). When the committee introducing Latham to the project asked if the artist was going to solve problems, Lyddon replied “No, the artist is going to show us problems we didn't know were there”. In the end, if there is ever an end to a body of work, Latham decided to explore the area in Midlothian from an areal perspective, or ‘from the distance’. It was from this, and through interacting intensely with archival aerial photography from the area, he was able to map out distinctive land features from the shale industry and turn these into a piece of re-conceived monumental, or sculptural work. The act of doing this changes how the public interact with the local landscape. I find the work fascinating and oh so funny to have stumbled into work made in this context during my time doing the residency in Churchill Gardens. I haven't continued to read into the work of Latham, but it has brought up interesting ideas as to how perspectives of place, how history, and fresh eyes can have an impact on how individuals engage with space. I think of how my view of the streets have changed since I began engaging in the area. How the image of a street morphs the more you walk down it. How the build up of memories connected to place erode and evolve as you step away then interact with them again. I am lucky to know these streets now and I get an overwhelming sense to draw them. Once again I'm excited by the power of naming, of bringing into the spotlight, places or people to create a transformative effect on how we engage with them. As I have been unable to draw or make during my time on the residency, I have taken up naming and writing lists of names instead. My diary has one section which includes as many names I can remember from all the people I have interacted with since my time in and around Pimlico and Churchill Gardens. Drawing cements and validates a memory or idea through the act of mark making, and I believe the power of naming and writing these names validates all the connections I have had to people over the course of the two weeks. I have found this at least itches my little creative scratch. Or rather, it scratches my creative itch.

In the afternoon I return to the Thamesbank Centre to volunteer with Shambush as part of the South west festival. With children from the surrounding housing estates, Shambush are holding creative making events in local community centres to try and create a way for children to engage with art and their neighbouring communities. We work to a brief which is to design, paint and glue onto paper ‘solar panels’ these of space, which will later be put together and secured to a huge metal structure and presented as a space shuttle in the gardens of Tate Britain. For each making event a child attends in their local area, they receive a stamp on their ‘space engineer passport’. It is a fantastic idea and I find it so exciting to hear that there is an activity in place to connect these very separate housing estates which tend to never really mix. When speaking to both Shambush and the local children who come to do the making session, it is apparent that Tate Britain is another world to this community. Im not surprised. It is a twenty minute walk away, yet completely inaccessible as a cultural engagement. This is sad but a very real reality.  Fine art is most easily digested by those with the confidence to enter into the gallery space and those with the education to understand how to interact with it. 

The kids are wonderful and messy and giggly and I laugh a lot with two girls in particular. We are silly and happy and I feel in my element. I feel so lucky to be in this space making with such interesting and wonderful kids. A group of boys come over and make maths themed solar panels. One boy manages to name every dwarf planet in our solar system and I feel very stupid when I talk about the ‘fire hurricanes on Venus’ (he probably knows the scientific latin name for them). Its so great how the space works. We are outside, the sun is shining, kids come and go and there is a real sense that we are in the heart of the community. We are on Peabody estate on Tachbrook Avenue so the street is lined by beautiful tall flats. In its centre is the park which is connected to the community centre, so every flat can watch down on us. I speak to one boy who is in year 5 and he says because of the park he has lots of friends who are older and younger than him. It is a place for all ages. 

Throughout the day only two parents come and talk to us and engage with the activities. Its a shame because so often it is the parents who are cautious and scared to venture out and try new things, and go new places which ultimately gets passed down to the kids. When we age we tend to view creativity as something that we have or we don't have. The older we get the more we become aware that we can or cannot draw. The older we get the more we isolate ourselves from activities and places we don't feel comfortable, or that accentuate the fact we cant draw, or paint or act. The kids seem to want to come to Tate when we tell them their work will be shown there, but unfortunately that isn't enough, it is about the parents. Pimlico toy library was great for this, and Shelia was really passionate that she was creating a space which was confidence building for parents. This is vital. 

The children power through the activities and start getting a little bored. I suggest making some space themed origami fortune tellers. Im worried that maybe I should have asked before doing this but Shambush are lovely and energetic about getting stuck in and keeping busy. The kids seem to love it and I get a real sense of right. I don't really know how to describe it. I feel in my element. This is huge for me and something which means the world when you're at the start of a career as a young artist who is still trying to find her feet. I wouldn't have had the means to experience bringing ideas to a children's art session before this and I feel so lucky that I am in this position. I feel validated that it is met with so much enthusiasm. 

The afternoon wizzes past. The father of the two girls who I had spent a lot of time with is brought down by his carer to go to the park. From the top floor flat their mother calls them up to go and help with caring for the neighbours. They give me lots of cuddles goodbye and run off with hands covered in glue and crisps. I cant help but think about what a potentially tricky life they must have, but how wonderful and giggly they are. I wish I could meet their mother and tell her how great they have been. How great all the kids have been. I leave and have a little cry down the phone to my friend because I'm so sad it has ended. It felt pivotal for me as just me, as someone who is unsure of my next steps, of what areas of work I would like to pursue. It is because of this afternoon, and because of this residency that I have been given this opportunity and this space to gain confidence and experience in wonderful exciting and giggle fuelled roles. 

Today is one of the best days I have had. Volunteering gives the residency a whole new level as i feel I'm working as part of a service which is effecting change. This is something I have a growing need to do. Its a wonderful thing that these two great volunteering opportunities with Shambush and the food distribution with Mike happened on my last few days. I feel I am more ready for them at this stage. I think about the residency ending, but on a larger scale, I think about goodbyes. I am not very good at them. I am home and I'm writing lots, I will have vegetable ratatouille for tea and I am going to have a gin and tonic too, because the sun is shining and I am happy. Big day tomorrow. Sad day. Big day. Last day. 

[ryodan]

I am conflicted about sasusaku. I shipped it hardcore when I was younger then bore resentment toward him when he defected and caused my queen sm pain. Now, though, I adore and cherish Sasuke as a member of team7 and a character. In SS pairing there are things that he does that makes me iffy. I'm not at all blind to his affections to Sakura but like when he put her in a genjutsu of him stabbing her… he could've put her in lala land but instead stabbed her. Why though? Im so conflicted. Help?

See, to be honest with you this is the kind of ask that can always get me stumped and it’s the reason why I have never argued with a Sakura stan about SasuSaku. I always mention this as if it weren’t obvious enough; I am a Sasuke stan. Before even being a fan of the series and before being any type of shipper, first and foremost, I am always just a little shit here for Sasuke. Asking me questions like ‘did Sakura deserve better from Sasuke?’ ‘did he hurt my queen?’ won’t get you the greatest answer from a Sakura stan’s POV, and that is why ic you have not noticed most my posts/answered asks are from Sasuke’s POV or are just me defending her against asshats with double standards shitting on her for caring for him; or just defending her with no context to SS. This question gets me thinking and I am not sure my answer will satisfy you. However, Let me try to do this to the best of my ability.

‘Did Sakura deserve better?’

Short answer: yes, but it’s not really a sasusaku thing.

Did Sasuke leaving the village cause pain?

Yes, of course it did. When someone you care about to the point of feeling like you’ve become a family is suddenly out of your life it hurts like hell, both Naruto and Sakura can relate. Heck, even Kakashi who had become an almost father figure to them can.

However, put yourself in Sasuke’s shoes, he is a 12 year old child who has been manipulated into carrying the moral burden of his family’s massacre since the age 7. Seven is such a MALLEABLE age, his brain was literally molded like clay and he was taken advantage of since a very influential age. Since age seven sasuke viewed avenging his family to be the sole purpose he was allowed to live, he literally viewed himself to be someone not worthy of killing for five years of his life. The fact that he came so far during his time with T7 is a miracle in it’s own right, he was emotionally healing with them. It got to a point where even Orochimaru’s influence using the curse mark was weakening because he loved these 2 so much

And then this comes along 

In the same scene, sasuke is stripped of both his pride and his sanity.

Having not only been shown his own parents and clan being murdered on repeat for twenty four hours  but also beaten bloody to get reminded of his own weakness. 

He trained all this time, thought himself getting physically and mentally stronger only to end up in this state

And he ended being even further manipulated into hatred

That day left him out of commission in the hospital for the time period naruto spent learning the rasengan and looking for tsunande; he was unconscious the entire time, and it was not even the physical attack that knocked him out, but rather, the mental ones.

Naruto took about four and a half weeks to learn the Rasengan

Despite all of this, he still wanted to slip out the village without hurting anyone’s feelings face to face. Sakura and Naruto both chased after him because they both loved him and did not think he was making the right decision by leaving. I’d like to highlight, sasuke himself said the characters misunderstood his motivations; his arc was never about just revenge, but also it’s been about justice. I truly feel for both Sakura and Naruto who were hurt by their loved one leaving; I cried during the confession, and God knows how much I cried during Sasuke and Naruto’s fight. But, it’s possible to feel for both of them while being objective, and in all honestly I find Sasuke perfectly justified in leaving and in fighting Naruto who instigated the fight himself.

Sakura got lucky with this

And I’d like to mention that Sasuke not once: interrupted her, belittled her feelings, called her stupid for loving him or anything of the sort. He respected her feelings and he had enough affection to give a thank you for it. What should he have said? ‘Yeah no, only interested in revenge atm’? lie and say something like ‘I hate you’?

He opted for letting her know she has been in his memories and that he has grateful for everything

(Mind you this is a mistranslation, he said uzai meaning annoying)

He even gave her answers for why he is leaving.

And it’s not like he was not just as affected by leaving and hurting the people he cares about either..he was also giving up his only hope of happiness

But he was literally manipulated into this since age SEVEN

Naruto is upset his friend whom is one of his first bonds is leaving to Orochimaru who clearly has ulterior motives, not understanding that sasuke already knows that

Sakura is upset the boy whom her crush for has grown into love is leaving and isolating himself for a ‘revenge’ she does not realize isn’t the main thing on the table for him

Sasuke is upset about his brother who’s killed his family being out there and about leaving the people he’s grown to care so much about. Sasuke left his fight with Naruto remembering his family while shaking with the pain of loosing everything, so it’s hard for me to place sakura above him in this situation.

See what I mean by sympathy is given to everyone but there is clearly someone with a stronger footing in the situation? 

What about the pain Sasuke caused because of what he was doing outside the village?

here is what sasuke was not justified on doing in terms of Konoha 

He is justified in hating Konoha, and getting angry over the political tyranny and the nationalist views it had that got his clan massacred and then threw the burden of the situation on his brother. He simply had a period of chronic insanity intensified by his curse of hatred; and that only grew with his pain and by overusing his mangekyo that comes at the price of insanity and vision.

His logic was a huge 180 from the Sasuke we we’re used to. he was no longer someone who believed in no killing under any circumstance; but now is willing to kill opponents after giving them a fair warning, since Konoha, whom he previously thought to be a good place can do it, and Itachi whom he previously believed to be evil but is now considered ‘perfect’ (god do i have my issues with itachi) had done it, it’s no longer an off the table option for him..He essentially had an existential crisis (paired with a panic attack that left him unconscious) that left his moral code completely shifted. 

But you also have to understand his pain

even Kakashi who got this from him

acknowledged that while sasuke might be in the wrong, he was still a victim of his surrounding situation (god i love kakashi)

Speaking of murder eyes, Sakura still got lucky she got off with what she got off with while dealing with such an unstable person

 Sasuke might be in the wrong; but expecting him not to retaliate when he knows she is out here, wearing her konoha head band and official cape, trying to kill him is pretty?????? She wanted to kill him, but he still gave her a chance (which ofc she would not take, she is not going to kill an innocent person) no murder eyes involved until it was clear to him what his intentions were. At this point, even sakura knew he was very far into the rabbit hole

he even softens a little when shes all like : ) ill betray konoha 4 u bb

Sasuke has never instigated a murder on sakura that she did not start herself, by ninja standards totally justifiable; they are 2 fighters meeting on field. This is not me saying Sakura is a bad person for attacking Sasuke, she too had full rights 

*when sasuke attacked her team mates she wanted to fight him and bring him back home

* when sasuke could have had a war starting in his name, started attacking villages and ‘joined’ a terrorist organisation 

Given all these circumstances they both had rights to fight each other 

Sad, but true

What about the war arc?

There is good things

Misunderstood things, due to mistranslations. Sasuke asks her literally ‘if you heard what can you do?’ and she does not answer because she couldn’t do much in that situation. He was not scolded on being a bully like some anti-sasuke folk want it to be, he was scolded on not being a team player.

The bad scenes include the lava pit comment which naruto called him out on as a bitch ass liar (he deserved that one tbh)

And of course the genjutsu. See, I don’t try to justify it and if a sakura fan dislikes sasuke and sasusaku because of it I can’t tell them anything. 

I can go in circles saying ‘oh but he cared! he was trying to cut off every bond to enter true darkness! he cared about her so much and the only way to ensure she writes him off forever is to do a violent type! naruto got murder!! she would have got hurt! he was preventing her getting physically hurt!’ and it’s all true but it does not answer ‘did sakura deserve that for just asking him not to kill the 5 kage and sit his ass down?’ because the answer to that is no; under no circumstance was he justified to do that, as commented on by kakashi.

But it’s important to remember at this point sakura is not trying to get in a romantic relationship with him, had that been the case it would have been THAT much more problematic, she was just trying to help.

You start asking fundamental questions if you ask ‘should she and naruto chase him to help?’ Sasuke asked them multiple times not to but at this point team 7 has become family. They could not just sit still and watch someone they cared about so much fuck up his own life and the life of others.

To Sasuke team 7 was hope and love after loss, to naruto they were the people who saved him from the darkness, to kakashi it’s the light at the end of the tunnel and to Sakura it’s where she grew up, where she faced life for what it is and arguably after ino were her first friends who helped her blossom into who she is. They really did not want to give up on that.

With all that in mind, I find it hard to believe these two could give up on sasuke.

He viewed them as family too, he too understands too well that the love you have for your family; the selfless, unconditional love that can cause a hell of suffering

Even a god believed there was hope.

When sasuke’s ideology stemmed from his beliefs that were about common interest above personal feelings he said this

and this

After everything, he had seen no reason for her to continue loving him; and it does not matter how he feels, since they have no common interest; he’s too busy trying to take over the world and she is thinking of a happy ending full of regained bonds

and he was right! Sasuke and Naruto officially ended the cycle of hatred begun by Kaguya and her grandchildren, and that’s when sasusaku got together.

had sasuke not been genuinely sorry I would have boarded off this ship, but he was. 

a romantic relationship only officially happened after this, even after sasuke stayed in konoha for a year after the war and whatever happened between them happened, he still did not allow himself a chance to enjoy these things because he was working off his sins.

In fact, in Shinden (I own it) it’s revealed he is working on himself because he was afraid of having intimate relationships without going off the rails again, despite longing to see team 7 again. What I am trying to get to is:  whatever punishment you want inflicted on sasuke, don’t worry he’s inflicting on himself/the world is inflicting it on him,,in fact I reckon this poor kid deserves a break, some tomato soup and a good tight hug. 

What about romantic sasusaku?

SasuSaku happened under great, healthy conditions and it’s not like sasuke is incapable of making sakura happy. You can only imagine (sadly no bitch is animating it) how much happiness she felt travelling around with a happy, free of hate sasuke and I 1000% believe he did his best to make her happy and I reckon it worked since she seems chipper despite the circumstances in gaiden…must have been one really good trip to have it’s after effects lingering for 12 years LOL

He makes her happy and she loves him and loves seeing him happy, and she has that forever now so I don’t really think Sakura is sad to end up with Sasuke and really neither should you

What does sakura deserve?

- More fights as given to her male counterparts to show her amazing skills, we want to see the genjutsu skills she’s renowned for

- More medical ninja scenes, the Kankuro one was iconic and was literally one of the most epic moments in the SERIES; more of the stuff showing her intellect please

- Her personal arc to be expanded on just as her male counterparts 

- To be involved in more important information just like her male counterparts, the entire sasuke fiasco could have been avoided and could have opened a door for some deep sasusaku moments

- Her emotional moments were the type that give you chills, more of those just as her male counterparts 

- An animation studio that does her justice in animation

- An animation studio that uses fillers to expand on her, not one that pulls shit like this to make her look immature and unlikable 

- A fanbase not full of ugly sexist boys who hate on her unnecessarily 

- A fanbase not full of insecure self inserty girls who hate her for being in place of their self insert 

- A better fucking plot for Gaiden

But, don’t take it out on sasuke or sasusaku man, don’t take it out on something you like. I love the judgmental couple that overcame everything.

Ultimately whether you believe she deserved better from Sasuke is completely up to how much you are willing to interpret both characters evenly. And ultimately, whether you like the dynamic of the ship or chose it’s not for you, is also completely up to you..it’s atypical and I understand why it might not be someone’s cup of tea. I only get annoyed when it’s unnecessary bashing of the relationship and the characters that sometimes extends to insulting real life people and their beliefs. Not cool.

Thanks for the ask and I hope this was not too sasuke centered hehe, also sorry for the late reply I have 78 asks in my box and it’s very hectic as I also have studying and socializing to keep up with.

Thank you again!

[gods-dont-bleed]

Koyol and Svet, The Transient God and the Old God, The Mutant Snake Man and The Man of Heat and Light.

Koyol (nicknamed Kyle) is a mutant amalgam of many things- mostly Snake, but also Human, Earth, Plants, and other animal composites. He came into existence at an unknown point in time with the mind set of perhaps a small animal where as “one day, I was there” and slowly developed more human feelings like curiosity and questioning, to which he eventually left the whole he came into existence in. His agine speed decreases as he got older, and he spent many many years as a child, “civilized” by a human village that caught him and passed around like a plauge between homes as he’d outlive every family since he aged so slow. He eventually becomes an independent adventurer and traveler, and makes many great discoveries, including finding a Gem of Power, a special artifact known as the Universal Emerald (which isnt actually an emerald its Tsavorite) as well as his life long companion, an Animal Spirit in the form of a Snake from an Egg that would never hatch which Koyol found in his original Hole, so named Katrina. with the Emerald, Koyol’s travels massively expanded, and he went from having traveled everywhere in his own land to Traveling an infinite number of other worlds which he studies in grave detail. He picks up new incredible skills from each universe he visits and has even met many other versions of himself, including his Self from Svet’s universe. Over the course of his travels, others  who could travel between worlds or had a knowledge of him refered to him as a nonexistant mystery beings known as The Man They Call Universe, as well did Koyol’s constantly increasing powers and skills make many think he was a god and many universes develop cults in his dedication.He’s recognized as a Snake Prince in his home world, and a god or King or many other titles in others. Svet’s world recognizes Koyol as a Transient God- a god that was once mortal but has such immense power, they can no longer be considered mortal. He has a massive arrayal of skills and abilities from ordinary mundane things he’s learned by studying cultures like Cooking, Instruments, Weaving, Writing, etc, to great powerful abilities that come from other universes, like Flow Alchemy that he learned from a universe he calls Alchemhaven (aka, the universe of Full Metal Alchemist), or Water Controling skills from another universe, Avatara (aka, the Universe of Avatar the last Airbender). As a part of being a mutant, Koyol’s body is productive of a strange and difficultto study ‘energy’ similar to radiation that can be dangerous to others over a prolongued exposure lasting years- for example, his childhood companion and one-time brother Kal, who has become severly deformed, lost two limbs and some fingers to a slowly decomposed body, and is still alive despite having known Koyol when he was a child (his aging process has slowed along side Koyol’s, but at a lesser rate, and physically he appears to be 45). Another mutation of Koyol’s mutant DNA has been a deteriorating Psychosis, more likely from an increase in bad experiences over his very long life. However, Koheu is a second being withing Kyle’s mind and within his soul, essentially a second person completely, that comes from being amutant and has been recognized as Koheu, Ender of Worlds. A chaotic, hateful man inside kyle’s head that is far beyond reason, and knows everything koyol can and do everything he can do. Kyle’s greatest passion is to Learn and to Travel, and over his life he has adopted 4 children, including his only son who has a grandchild. He’s a fiercly protective man who’s Loyalty is is at a dangerously lethal level, and his anatomy and body are all sorts of strange. He’s established his own group called the Rainbow Squad, a massive collection of people with special skills seeking escape from their original lives and to make the multiverse a better place, including training programs for abandoned children who are housed there, and massive workings of members and affiliates. Koyol is incredibly old and his biological downtick has officially stopped, and he no longer ages at the physical age of 24. Svet jokes the Koyol has to be at least half his age (which is a joke, because Svet doesnt have an age and has always existed.), and frequently refers to Koyol’s age as ‘about half as old as forever’. 

Svet on contrast has a very different life story. He’s an ethereal being that was both there before time- therefor, before there was a before- and came into existance when the first light and the first heat could exist. as an Old God he is physically Immortal and unbound to a single body or even having a form at all. His life is a blur of partial omnipotence as he watched the universe form around him, within him. He knows every god, even the Void Gods that never existed, excluding some ‘newer’ Demigods or other sorts that only newly reached divinity. As long as there have been humans, Svet has been fascinated with their lives. At one point a Tyrannical dictator, at another point pretending to be a human himself, and currently just living as a god among people. Svet has almost always been a popular deity among people and has had many temples, shrines, and wars have been fought in his name. While a light hearted man on his most usual, he is a wrathful and dangerously powerful person who makes almost no corporeal sense. He’s a man of a million loves, a million friends. He has a single daughter. and while fiercely protective and Loyal... there are parts of him that would make others think otherwise, and many have eventually figured that out after a lifetime in his companionship. History on Svet is surprisingly sparse and it seems his go-with-the-flow lifestyle has meant much of his life is lesser known to others.

most of my characters tend to share specific ideals or traits strongly because im not sure how to portray other things- per example, many of my characters are Polyromantic or Polysexual, since i personally dont really see the concept of why someone would be conflicted loving two people and blah blah blah. the point is, all my characters are similar in a certain angle.

However, the conundrum of these two to me is always fun, because they to me are so... similar, and yet, there is virtually every possible reason to call them complete opposites, even down to fundamental cores.

Examples.

Koyol has lost many loved ones over the course of his long life; he finds the memories of them all very painful, and lives in constant dread of each person he knows dying, and knows they will. Contrastingly, alough Svet has also lost many over the course of his long life, He is disconnected from this sort of pain then a normal person or most gods are. His attachments are lesser, he mourns very shortly, and rarely worries or thinks twice about the passing of someone he knows,

Koyol lives a very isolated way that would make it seem as though he’s Distant, but in actuality, he gets attached very quickly and very strongly, and sees most people he knows as family. Svet, while living an outgoing and friendly, active life and meeting many people and many relationships, is actually incredibly distant from most if not all people, and cares deeply for incredibly few people in his life to the point it is very surprising.

Koyol and Svet share a strong strain of protective nature and loyalty. However, Koyol is self-sacrificing Loyal to even people who barely consider him an acquaintance. to those he values he would even readily die just at their request if they wanted him to. Svet on contrary is not self-sacrificing, or at least not nearly as much as Koyol. He will go out of his way to help friends, but wont go so far as to give up his own for simple friends or even others closer to him.

Svet is a very forward, touchy person and communicates bast with his hands, and is very physical-contact oriented. Koyol, on contrast, will most likely never touch you if he neednt. In his culture, even light touches were considered very intimate. He is also just naturally a not-touchy person and would prefer to keep a good personal bubble from others.

Svet is incredibly sensitive and is constantly aware of anything touching his body or the stream of fir- be it every fiber of his clothing to every particle of dust that settles on his skin, as a result of his body being a ‘projection’ of sorts. Koyol, contrarily, has two layers of “skin”. the top layer is extra flesh and skin and his sense of touch is extremely dull. Occasionally he sheds this layer (which is a disturbing messy process) by flexing the second layer- a layer of razor sharp, uniquely hard black scales that tear the top layer of green skin off. This layer is incredibly sensitive, though not as much as Svet’s. While his top layer is very, very dull, his hair is quite sensitive. dont pull it. hes tender headed.

Koyol’s curiosity and interest is incredibly studious, and he wants to learn essentially everything. if he doesnt know it, you can talk his ear off and he’ll be intrigued. Svet, however, while paying attention, is doing so more out of courtesy and more so to learn about you then because he actually ever cares about a topic- he rarely does.

all of Koyol’s traits/skills are hard earned, for the most part. he worked and learned them. Svet is more of a savant with natural skills in things he enjoys.

Koyol will rarely use your name. In his culture, using a name specifically to you face is intimate. He only uses names to refer to another person when talking to someone, and otherwise uses nicknames. Also, in his culture, most names start with a K or have many Ks. Svet uses names consistently, and prefers full name use to shortened nicknames (referring to Chelo as Chelovek, or calling Koyol by his name rather than his eaiser pronounced Nickname Kyle.).

Koyol is fluent in almost any language he’s ever heard of, and can communicate with any culture he’s ever met- the biggest exception to this is that he cannot use Sign Language, not for a lack of trying; he can read it easily if someone signs to him, but his hands are not flexible enough for signing and many of his gestures look wrong. to the contrary, Svet only knows Sign language, Morse code and English and has shown to have great difficulty learning new ones should he try, and rather learns more universal languages that arent spoken. He’s currently trying to learn computer Binary and how to read various Ciphers.

While they both strongly enjoy cooking and are very good at it, Koyol cannot taste sweet, hates sour flavors, and loves milk; Svet cannot taste sour even in a human body, loves Sweet flavors, and cant stand milk. They both enjoy cultural dishes. Koyol strongly refuses on drinking if he can but is fairly easy to peer pressure into it, and is a surprisingly loose-lipped drunk; Svet loves partying and quite enjoys a drink but its nearly impossible to peer pressure him into it- or anything- and is a very cut-loose, party-type drunk in any body except his normal firey one, where alcohol makes hime a more angry drunk as it reacts with his core. 

They are different as fuck so i dunno why to me they see so similar.

[galimatios]

t/a rambles 1

back on my bullshit part 1

... should look into the tactics ogre games for novel inspo bc my novel is also a political drama ... UNINTENTIONALLY actually id call it a coming of age story in rhe new adult genre since mc is probably 23-25 i have so many feelings about the novel ugh i love my ocs so much and i put them all om opposing sides for this novel the most complex relationship i have in it i think is alex and his mother or rather prince kreutzer in this au queen elaine and her son prince kreutzer .. god its so fucked up bc kreutzer loves his mother- he was largely isolated as a child and his mother was always so loving and sweet and they were so so close but the prince never knew of the shit his mother did as queen she is a tyrant she must have lost a child once. a princess, i think probably to the king who she may have ... overthrew or usurped maybe but regardless of that shes in power now and because she lost a child she became overly protective of kreu and consolidated her power heard of a plot to infiltrate her kingdom and assassinate the son of the previous tyrant king (?) and she just fucking ruled with an iron fist because she has so little trust in the goodness of people that she thinks the only way to achieve good is to force it and as a result she kills anyone who steps out of line thus making the people resent her deeply but to kreutzer shes his mother his loving and doting mother who does all she can to protect him the novel actually starts um after the queen is assassinated h a its not her story but shes a big part of it even after her death bc a big portion of the theme is like coming to terms with the complexity of individuals no one is all good or all bad and kreu starts out unable to understand this he has a very black and white view of moralitt like his mother at the beginning on his coronation day theres an assassination attempt made on him but he gets whisked away by the court jester after that a coup is staged and rebels take over the country and the prince is forced to hide with a traveling circus that the jester brings him to where every performer... is a fugitive or criminal! and thats where his personal growth really begins bc he learns abt these people and realizes his world view was wrong people are complex people do bad things... for just reasons and vice versa esp Keith who makes a major appearance in the novel his entire bg story takes place outside the novel as well hahaha but its a lot after a raid on his village, hes orphaned along w his little sister who is ill so to make ends meet / buy medicine he does literally every fucking crime under the sun starting off with petty theft and scaling up to murder literally sacrificing every last shred of innocence he has for the sake of his ailing sister who... dies anyway! and im thinking, tbh, its a fantine/cosette/thenardiers type sitch where this quack doctor is basically scamming him except instead of fantine dying cosette does anyway thats where he fucking hits rock bottom he could handle things as long as he had someone to fight for you know he was alright with it bc his sister was there, his saving grace but when she dies hes all alone thats probably when lydia finds him i imagine he would he on the verge of suicide or at the very least dying of self imposed starvation and neglect but honestly probably suicide julie's death on top of the crushinf weight of all the crimes hes committed the innocence he lost, the lives he took its just way too much and hes just a naive kid lydia finds him and takes him back to the circus takes care of him gives him food and water and shelter and slowly tries to reach him slowly teaching him that there is still life to be lived that he is so young, and it is far too soon for him to lay down and die that he should live for his dead family, because that is what they would want to keep their memory alive in his heart and he begins to come around slowly starts doing chores for the troup then he finally sees one of their performances acrobats and the trapeze and the glitz and the glamor its the first time in years where he ... wasnt thinking about his dead sister or his trauma he asks lydia to teach him how to "do that" he says while pointing at the stage and so she does and ever since then hes taken up performing full time as a .. daredevil type act doing outrageously dangerous things for the thrill of it it excites him, the risk he loves to see how close to the edge of death he can walk without falling and it fuels him makes him enjoy being alive again and he's.. happy god by the time you meet keith in the novel he's just this happy go lucky teen with this smugness about him a kind of dangerousness belying a sweet exterior he's all jokes and laughs at this point and you'd never be able to tell what he went thru at first glance or at all really bc honestly, at this point he honest to god is okay lies and dirt - Last Thursday at 6:00 AM he... doesnt need anyone's pity. he doesn't need anything but the feeling of being alive now and one of the major points of the novel is prince kreu's relationship with him... bc at first they really clash and kreu is just... he's a fucking criminal and all of then deserve to hang keith plays this off w jokes at first but kreu keeps being antagonistic bc he just cant believe a criminal like him is getting away without punishment but then one day keith snaps at him knife to the prince's throat dangerous, cat like eyes, the usual smile on his face no where to be found you're right. i'm a thief. a liar. a criminal. a murderer. i'm all those things. but i'll tell you one thing, prince: i'm not worthless. he pulls the knife away and walks off leaving the prince stunned after this lydia talks to kreu explaining that maybe he shouldn't judge keith so quickly hinting that the circumstances of his life were... not ideal when i first found him, he was already half dead. perhaps not physically, but in the eyes. you could see the reaper in them. hhmgmgn i need to think more abt the circumstances around this scene ah keith must have been looking for a good place to die

the music from the circus reminded him of better days, when he played songs with his family. i imagine him.. outside the tent, somewhere obscured and there's music flowing from its interior... he's tired. he sits down against a barrel and he's been starving, exhausted... letting sleep take him away on the songs from the circus back to a time he used to be happy...

lydia fines him and shakes him but his eyes look glassy and he's unresponsive

he's taken poison must have been something from his former days working as an assassin something he saved for himself just in case and that's when lydia takes him in and nurses him back to health she's a water mage w healing capabilities so she's able to do it and i imagine at first keith is hurt, angry why am i still alive? i im fucking myself up in the feels i hate this THIS ISNT EBEN IN THE FUCKINF BOOK IT ALL HAPPENS BEFORE IT KEITJS NOT THE MAIN CHARACTER HERE BUT IM SO FUCKED UP ugh after kreutzer learns a bit abt keiiths origins he actually thinks a lot. and tries to make amends. apologizes to keith who doesnt say anything much he's sitting, eyes away from the prince, fiddling with the knives he uses for his performances

"a raid took my parents away. illness took away my sister."

"i did a lot of things for money. most of it i'm not proud of. but i would have done anything to save her... you know?"

"you've got someone you love too, don't you?" kreutzer thinks of his mother. the surrogate brother who disappeared on him and never returned "i do." "then, you get it." after this they start to really bond almost as siblings.. which is really funny bc kreutzer doesnt need to be protective of keith keith can MORE THAN take care of himself but its new for kreutzer to feel.. responsibility for someone else like this he was always the one protected before keith laughs at this a lot what're you trying to do? be my big bro? but secretly he ...really likes having family again as idiotic as kreutzer is ofc lydia has always been there for him but as a surrogate mother an older sib is new and.. kind of nice in canon modern au they really are basically bros LOL actually cousins via mothers but alex/kreu goes to live w keiths family after his mom (lain) dies so they essentially grow up like brothers i didn't even get started w the fucking mess that is alan and kreutzer alan goes by calisto also and he hes the court jester but he was trained from a young age as a snake in the kings court he was supposed to kill the prince when the time was right but alan and his dumb fucking gay ass FALLS IN LOVE WITH HIM INSTEAD spoiler alert: its unrequited btwn alex and alan is NEVER requited in ALL aus its because alan ... doesnt love himself at all. he has no sense of... purpose or identity alex can never love someone like that but either way he becomes the prince's personal servant and entertainer and this idiot falls for him the naivete he displays, the timid stateliness, the unfitting title of prince bestowed on his shoulders- kreutzer is far too soft to be the leader of this kingdom and alan increasingly has the desire to protect him even as kreu grows older and more skilled in his studies there is always the anxious trepidation they also grow up together from around ages 11-present at the time of the novels start god alan loves him so much it hurts me but its so one sided alex loves cyrus in modern au ): alan could never be more than just a phase tbh poor guy alan and his low self esteem and depression the worst part of this thougg is that because alan feels aimless and without purpose when he falls for kreutzer he ... finally has his OWN cause to fight for and he takes it to the extreme betraying everyone that trusted him to do his job for the sake of a man who wont ever love him it bites him in the ass too bc i kill him off as a catalyst for other stuff h ahahahhahahahahahahaha not just kill him off but horribly because HE FUCKING BETRAYED HIS ENTIRE SIDE THEY ARE, UNDERSTANDABLY, PISSED Alan is so fuckong flawed hes a fuckinf mess and i love it ugh im thinkijg of another scene in the novel once kreutzer gets captured bt the coup rebels he actuallt submits himself voluntarily bc keith gets kidnapped and used as ransom keith tells him hes a fucking idiot keiths life doesnt matter dont fucking come for me! but kreu doesnt listen obviously and they torture kreutzer bc i love suffering and after that they make him listen in a mock trial to the testimonials of all the people hurt by his mother death to the queen! death to elaine of koel! all the horrible stories of lives unjustly cut short because of his mother it breaks him because he loves his mother so much but she's done all these horrible things he doesn't know what to do how to make amends the damage was done and he takes their wrath their scorn and anguish and i'm sorry as if sorry could ever fix anything but it is his burden to carry, his punishment to suffer in place of the queen ironically this makes lilya have a change of heart she was infiltrating the queens court just as alan did and she is directly responsible for her death her assassination, i think or the king's? either way shes part of the rebel forces and she DESPISES the queen good fucking riddance as far as she's concerned that woman made her life hell(edited) so she can rot in it for all lilya cares for but seeing kreutzer there bloodied tortured sobbing broken and taking the punishment doled out to him without so much as a word of protest(edited) she thinks... this... isnt right this is wrong. because kreutzer was not responsible for the sins of his mother as much as people want to blame him, take out their anger on him lilya was at first all gung ho about ending the royal bloodline lies and dirt - Last Thursday at 7:02 AM but she reconsiders this moment feels something tugging at her this isnt right

she remembers her sister back at the circus— lydia. who she always loved dearly but clashed with, leading to her abandoning the circus and joining the rebellion.

retribution is deserved, but should it be served? what then makes us different from our oppressors?

or sth like that so she rescues kreutzer takes him back to the circus. and reunites with her sister after so many years after that ik not entirely sure what to do w the novel LOL bc i know there has to he a big battle bc the rebellion forces begin to quell opposition like how the communist regime in other countries started in ernest bc people felt oppressed but then they went too far and started culling the middle class so then kreutzer leads his own rebellion force against them to take back the country then once he wins he uses his kinghood to dissolve the monarchy and embrace democracy instead asking lydia to lead hes much too tired to lead, and she is much better suited for it but hm inhabe to think more about that entire segment after this he takes over lydias spot in the circus as its owner and organizer and with keith he spends the rest of his days helping people just like keith also they properly mourn alans death it takes forever for kreu to come to terms w his mothers assassination and crimes he probably never truly works it out but he begins to be able to recognize that she is both the tyrant queen and his loving mother that they do not cancel eachother out, that they are not mutually exclusive they are one in the same UGH IM SO UPSET I WISH ID FUCKING WRITE THIS BC I WANT TO FUCKING READ IT the message i wanna convey is like people.. are complex, imperfect, and the systems they create are also subjected to that but everyone does things for a reason. no matter what that reason is and i want lydia to address this too when she becomes the new prime minister of koel a democracy is not perfect, because man is not perfect. there will be hardship, mistakes made along the way. but together we can grow, improve, and learn about one another— and better our society for it. and i believe anywhere injustice goes, justice will always follow(edited) sth like that ig

[qdtquietdownthere]

Day 8- Swim, clay and personal space.

Day 8

Today is going to be a busy day and I wake up and put on my swimming costume before doing anything else. 

If that isn't a wild start to a Tuesday, I don't know what is.

I get the tube to Victoria (one stop before my usual Pimlico) and head to the Queen Mother Sports Centre to go for a swim. It is odd getting off here. There have been major delays on the railways and the space is buzzing with frantic energy. Everyone is passing through. No one seems to stop. I down a coffee from cafe-disgusting-Nero before my swim. It is interesting wandering in a mad sea of people who are rushing. I like to guess what job they have and I wonder what they think I do when they look at me. If they look at me. There was a man on the tube this morning swearing at his laptop. I wondered what his day was going to be like. It is funny taking the tube every morning and being in this transient space. It gives me energy and I feel part of the crowd, but it is also so transient and so isolating. A swelling day population and I'm just one of them. As I walk towards Pimlico however, and towards the pool, the swell of people calms. I sit outside the pool and wait until 10am as I sip my coffee before I go in. I am enjoying sticking to the timetable as well as I can, This is the little bit of structure surrounded by unknown activities. 

The pool is quite this time in the morning. There are maybe only 5 people in the pool and we are all spread out. Absolute luxury. At first I notice how calm and clean the pool is. There are sheets hanging on the wall which contain workout guides. One for strength, one for cardio and there is one sheet titled ‘silver’ for elderly people. This one looks the most used, and 4 out of 5 of the people swimming today all have silver hair. This is inviting for me as the pace is relaxed. Im not ready to try and fight for a place in the pool. My last experience in Stoke Newington pool was not pleasant, whereas this is already a great experience. I stay for 45 minutes until the local schools start playing on the flumes and distracting the tranquility of the unified breast strokes happening in our orderly lanes. I hear two elderly men in the slow lane laugh with each other. Up until this point I have only spoken to two people today, and that makes me feel a little sad. Most other days I would have spoken to many people by this time. Swimming is also a lonely sport I feel, it is easy to be in your own head. Running for example, keeps your eyes busy and you get to smile at other runners. It is so easy it is to be out in the community, doing an activity in a shared space, but still lack engagement with another human. Later on in Tesco on Lupas Street I wait to pay for my nut bar and notice that the line for the tills run by a real human cashier are almost twice as long as self service. Never have I seen this in another supermarket before. A simple chore is buying food, but for older people, lonely people, it might be the little interaction they get in a day. 

After swimming, and sporting a beautiful chlorine barnet, I make my way towards Thames Bank centre. I pop into a few charity shops on the way. In both there are lots of young people, both working and shopping. Its nice to see some 20 somethings and when I buy a dress (which I now regret buying) we have a little laugh. Its nice to have this, and its interesting how the demographic has changed.  

Like the market at the weekend, it is wonderful to look in a charity shop and see the identity of a place and area. I think charity shops, and a sharing of items and style is a wonderful way to get to understand a place. There is a great book titled ‘the Comfort of Things’ (2008) by Daniel Miller in which the author, and anthropologist, goes into a London tower block to speak to people about their belongings and asks the owners to tell their stories. It is a wonderful and deeply personal book which unifies through difference, all around a backdrop of belongings. Charity shops for local areas remind me of this. I find comfort in buying something which has its own story. 

Thames bank centre is hosting ETAT (Encouragement through the arts and talking). I turn up a little early and walk into a room full of chatting, and laughing and there is clay everywhere. I walk in and have to introduce myself to everyone in the room. Everyone is elderly and they are all chatting away while deep into their clay. There is some confusion about who I am. I am there to come along to the class and do the chair exercises. This however gets misinterpreted that I am leading the chair exercise sessions. I don't really understand and go along with it. This has been the best approach to most of the activities. I start making clay into an underwater theme and then, luckily, like an act of god, the chair exercise instructor turns up and I'm off the hook. It makes everyone giggle. 

I am overwhelmed by the sense of community in the room, and once again this free, easy and non comital environment. The space is like a loud living room with clay everywhere and people come and go. Like a living room exactly. There is a range of ages, though I hear the oldest is 97. Once again I am the youngest, but this is something with invigorates me today, excites even. I feel like it is a space I would come to completely by myself. I sit next to a lady who I went on the Warwick trip with and we laugh about her attention to detail while making her ceramic tile compared with my botch job attempt. Yes thats right, I am an ‘Artist’. I speak to Jane and Karen (Who runs CAVE in Pimlico) about ETAT. They are far reaching and busy people. Pimlico million was set up by Jane who shows me videos and photos from events, exhibitions and footage of her singing at SouthWest Fest. They are currently preparing for an art show and ETAT have even recorded an album. However I am told that the album has a parental advisory because many swear words are sang throughout the song…. Again, the eldest member is 97. I'll just leave that there. What is apparent is how both Jane and Karen, and everyone for that matter, are connected to the community. They seem completely involved in its development. They make it feel this way just by  simply knowing everyones name. There is power in naming.  

Im a little anxious when I meet Jane and Karen, because I am nervous to be seen as a threat to existing services. It has been a challenge explaining why I am coming along to activities which haven't seen a new, or young, member in many moons. I stand out. I feel like a cultural probe at times. However, I'm also there for me. I am interested and excited by these activities and interactions separate from the schedule, the blog, and the cash to eat breakfast. 

We begin chair class in the corner of the huge room. There are around seven of us, all with a mixture of abilities. Emily who is in a wheel chair, a woman with dementia, Barney who is a Chelsea pensioner and wont stop laughing and then me who is giggling along with the energy of the place. We dance to music in our seats which are arranged in a circle. We play volleyball and Barney throws a mean punch. Its fun and I'm happy. I loose track of time and have to run out. 

Later on in the day, after a visit to Victoria library, I head over to the London Mayor’s Parlour to observe the council meeting of the health and wellbeing board. Im early and then I'm late and then I'm lost. Being lost is hard and I wonder what this residency would be like without a phone. Even more, without a schedule. It makes me see even clearer the obstacles in leaving an area where you grew up when you don't have the funds, the ability or the confidence to leave. It is easy to ‘other’ the next streets across the busy road. It is then easy to other the next community, the young teenagers, the refugees. I wonder how much of a knock on effect this inability to access certain spaces shapes us. Urban geography shapes us. 

The streets as you leave Pimlico become busy with suits and men who are walking like they mean business. The buildings get taller and it becomes striking that you have left pimlico. Again, the city scape, the gardens and the design of Churchill Gardens and the surrounding area give you a sense of a village. It is protected. I am desperate to draw this- desperate to map it out. 

I eventually arrive to the building I need to be at. In the foyer but the woman at reception tells me the meeting was last week. The only one today is on transport. I feel a little embarrassed but mainly because I'm a bubbly sweaty mess and everyone is in navy blue suits, not sweating and cool as a business man shaped cucumber. I ask to use the toilet but she says no, so I leave. 

It Is nice walking back to Pimlico and towards the library. I don't need a map anymore and that gives me confidence and a sense of belonging. I know where streets are and have a sense within me like a homing pigeon for the library. 

The day takes a turn and while waiting outside the library in the sunshine I get a personal call with some bad news. I am outside the library in Pimlico, but on the phone feeling very emotional. I am here in Pimlico but I'm transported into my life in Tottenham, in Edinburgh. I wish to be in these places now. I try and clean myself up to go into knitting, but when I walk in I notice only two people sat in the space outside the toilets,  knitting at speed in complete silence. It is not the right space for me at this moment. This is the only time I have felt an overwhelming sense of being in a place which isn't mine. I want someone to talk to who knows me and I want to be with my friend. I crave something normal in an abnormal situation and after abnormal news? For the rest of my night I isolate myself. I get off the tube at one point to isolate myself. To be in control. Its demanding giving all the time during the residency. I am always trying to bring energy. It takes energy to walk into a room, to try and engage someone, to listen to long stories, to listen to upset and to ideas you don't agree with. Even the stories which are happy and interesting, it takes energy. I know I bring energy to what I have been doing. I bring a genuine interest and care and a giddiness to talk and connect. I wonder how much I have given of myself. I told the women who I sat with at choir how nervous I was to sing and walk into the room, and it was in this activity which I felt most happiest, and most transformed when I left to go home. I wonder if I should have gone into knitting but be open and honest about how I was feeling and what had just happened to me merely 3 minutes before. How would this have felt? With action research I am aware of mutuality and transparency. It has been this. But I wonder if I had pushed it a little further, and let go of this need to make people feel good and happy and just talked about me, how would this change the residency and my interactions? I wonder if this had happened just before choir, would I have gone in? What is it about knitting club which meant that in that situation I couldn't walk in and be with the sadness I had just received? I believe it was the intensity of the situation, and the fact it was only two knitters sat in the library space. Even more so after this, I celebrate how all the activities and groups I have attended are relaxed and casual. One doesn't have to commit to a 5 week course going every Thursday night. Life happens. 

I am someone who recharges my batteries alone and I don't want to talk about hard subject with strangers. I know how to self sooth, how to get back the sunshine. I feel bad I didn't go in but in this moment it wasn't right. It has also shone light on the need for flexible activities in a community which inevitable will encounter childcare problems, ill health ect. Its about designing a service which despite all of what life can throw at someone, the service will continue to be outwards reaching. I think there is value and need for creating something which can be someones fall back. That in despite of sadness, loneliness or not feeling like leaving the sofa, one doesn't feel lonely and isolated from the culture and happenings of the community.

I go home and have a bath, watch some Netflix and I draw a quick drawing of a lobster. I also listen to Stormzy. Lots of Stormzy. 

[ryodan]

SasuNaru and the pin hole

(semi anti ending but not tagged as such as its mainly pro, so beware..vv semi tho)

@sasuke-prevails

Okay, so I’d reblog your post with a reply but my computer always freezes up when I do that and try to add pictures and I can barely use the tumblr app as it is so gaaaah. Plus, I’ve always wanted to make this post debunking everything SNS claim anyways. So here you go. sorry about the wait, i was so lazy..sorry about some shakey images i have GAD

First off, I’d like to say that when I say I am a Naruto fan, I don’t mean the character. I mean, don’t get me wrong I love Naruto too, but I am referring  to the series. I genuinely love this series despite all of it’s inconsistencies, I am late on the band wagon but I prefer that since it allows me to think objectively.  SNS tends to view the series with what I like to call pin hole vision where the entire series is naruto  x sasuke, they are the center bond because they represent everything the series itself stands for. They are not together all the time, they haven’t had the healthiest relationship but they’re the centre  bond because as proven by the first and final battles in the VOE, both at the end of part 1 and part 2 respectively it’s a ‘it boils down to this’ type of thing. However, when I say I am anti romantic SNS it does not mean I am anti their friendship. Do I think its unhealthy? Some aspects of it, yes. Problematic, yes tbh.

These are good examples  I think. Narutos worst fears early shippuuden were disappointing his comrades, and this. Why is is problematic on Narutos side? I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it

I’d like to mention what naruto as a series stands for, and always consistently stood for.

‘Nande?’

‘Onagi dakara’

‘why?’

‘because we are the same.’

-Narutos first bond, Iruka

‘Konoha o mamoroto tsuyui ishi’

‘strong will to protect the hidden leaf village.’

-Hiruzen

‘sato wa nanda?’

‘what is a village?’

-sasuke, ill get to it

‘Kono hi no ishi mote oru kagiri kono sato no mono wa subete kazoku sono mono nanja’

‘as long as one has this will of fire everyone in this village is family.’

‘Iruka sensei? Nande hito wa hito no tameni inochi o kake- ah fuck this translation takes too long im sorry omg

‘Iruka sensei why do people risk their lives for other people?’

‘When one person dies, their past , their present and their future disappears along with them----those people who die have dreams and ambitions, but everyone else has something just as important. Parents, siblings, friends, lovers..those who are dear to them. They trust each other and help each other—that string gets which connects those people gets stronger and thicker by time. It’s impossible to explain why, those who hold those strings just do it, because it’s important to them.’

‘yeah. Somehow it’s clear even to me.’

-Iruka and Naruto when Hiruzen died protecting the village

‘When someone has something they want to protect, their true power comes along’

-Haku

It’s because we help out when they’re in trouble that we can count on them to come running when we need it.

-Shikamaru, about Suna

‘If comrades that you trust gather around you, hope can take physical form and become visible. That`s what I believe...’

-kakashi, to obito

I won't allow my comrades to die. I'll protect you with my life. Trust me.

-kakashi

The next generation will always surpass the previous one. It's one of the never-ending cycles in life.

-kakashi

If you don't share someone's pain. You can never understand them.

-Pain

‘A long cycle of hatred humans have come to call history’

Just by living, people hurt others without even realizing it. So long as humanity exists, hate will also exist. There is no peace in this cursed world. War is just a crime paid for by the pain of the defeated...

-pain

Now there's something I understand a little better. Hate, sadness, even joy. To be able to share it with another person... Naruto Uzumaki. From fighting him I learned that. He knew pain like I did and then he taught me that you can change your path. I wish that one day I can be needed by someone. Not as a frightening weapon... But as the sand's Kazekage.

-Gara

  People's lives don't end when they die. It ends when they lose faith.

-itachi

‘ill never let my comrades die, those words and the conviction behind them are not lies, because neji was able to store those words in his heart. Brother Neji died! It’s not just you Naruto, we all hold those words and feelings in our heart.That is what binds our lives together and makes us comrades. If we all give up those thoughts and feelings Nejis final act would have been for nothing. And that is when your comrades truly die.’

-Hinata

The pain of being alone is completely out of this world, isn't it? I don't know why, but I understand your feelings so much, it actually hurts.

-Naruto

That void is something that everyone helps you fill. Just because you face adversity and hardships, is no reason to give up on this world. A person willing to throw away all those memories... of their friends and comrades, will never find peace of mind. Resorting to something like that isn't going to bury that hole. If you persevere and endure, someone will be there to support you!

-Kakashi, to obito

 I love sasuke. I love all of his bonds, and despite the shit he dealt with in the series he really does represent the message of the series really well…an atypical antagonist, an incredibly well written character who fills not only his shoes in the story, but the shoes of many other characters.

You say Sasuke offered his food to Naruto because he cares about him and I agree, empathy stems from care. But going by your argument.

Despite this

He did wait for her to wake up, also risking elimination and a halting of his revenge plans.

It’s important noting that before any of this, their goals were very self centered and none of them were playing by teamwork..except sasuke, who boasted that he was better than them to Kakashi, but was still the only one who linked them together, by feeding naruto and by saying the whole ‘we are a 3 man cell aren’t we?’

That’s another thing I love about this guy, he really brings people together despite the fact that does not talk for 98% of the series. Taka developed because of him and so did 7.

A constantly relevant theme.

the first mission bought light to what their relationships would be like very early on, and also imprints these guys as personal bonds based on friendship and affection that sasuke shares, a feat that no one else in the series was able to do aside from his family.

From the tree climbing exercise that combined their rivalry and their friendship to this moment that made a grown ass man cry

 ENCOUNTER WITH FRIENDS WHO CAN EASE HIM FROM LONELINESS!!

【仲間】 「それまで恋や友情に見向きもしなかったサスケは、ナルトやサクラと出会い、少しずつではあるが、仲間を受 け 入れ始める。サスケにとってナルトは、いつの間にか互いの能力を高め合う良きライバルとなり、 また大蛇丸の 邪悪な呪印にのみ込まれんとするその心を、サクラに救われたことも．．．  」

↳ 【COMPANIONS】 Though until then he had taken no notice of either love or friendship, after meeting with Naruto and Sakura Sasuke begins to accept them as nakama, even if only little by little. In Sasuke’s eyes, before he even noticed it, he and Naruto became mutual good rivals capable of boosting up each other’s skills - and also, when his heart was about to be swallowed by Orochimaru’s wicked cursed seal again, he was rescued by Sakura…

‘as they go on countless missions together, he sees her strengths and weaknesses and views her as someone he needs to protect’

「呪印の影響で暴走するサスケを身を挺して鎮めるサクラ。サクラのサスケを想う心が、邪な力を 包 み込む。」  

↳ Sakura willingly and bravely calms the rampaging Sasuke under the influence of the cursed seal. Sakura’s heart, thinking of Sasuke, devours the wicked power.

 For Naruto who was considered a failure, Sasuke was more than an annoying guy who got the best grades: he was also the rival that won Sakura’s heart, for whom Naruto is in love …! That’s why he always gets annoyed with Sasuke

Sasuke, who only had power for revenge, becomes stronger because of his companions. His true place would have been a future among them.

Growing distant, towards darkness. The one to appear before him as he began leave was Sakura. To the back of a Sasuke that tried to avert from what was being left behind, Sakura desperately conveys her feelings. Bright and earnest feelings - feelings that did not want to lose Sasuke. The one who filled his lonely existence with the emotion called love was Sakura. But, as expected, Sasuke cannot respond to those feelings. Sasuke was only able to leave a single word of thanks as word of parting. 

Friendship and love, a future filled with warmth. But as long as he is there, he cannot make his dream come true. This is why he throws away a future with his friends. To make dreams of revenge a reality…

As is confirmed by the databook.

Sasuke risked his life for them both, and he would have done it again no thinking what so ever, partly because he is a selfless person and also because they already imprinted on his mind. Sasukes relationship with Naruto is given a rivalry mixed with friendship context early on and my friend who had 0 to do with naruto burrowed volume one from me and in school while she was reading asked me if sasuke and sakura end up together, because authorial context is clear

In fact this scene builds up a very good argument I have for this ship that I will get to, where we first learn of his entire stance in the story and sakura is like? Mind you, this was at a time before sasuke ever spoke about these things to anyone…he made me cry is not something he ever told anyone other than sakura. She was intuitive to he him, even during the war when she had a feeling he’d start shit up early on.

You could argue he is blushing bc he is embarrassed… but he has had girls thirsting after him since he was fresh out the womb. ‘he came off stand offish’ well, yes naturally when a person is suffering from trauma and survivors guilt they tend to isolate themselves and become reclusive and irritable. Now, add the fact that the trauma happened at such a young age and you have a sasuke. But he still, took out the time to say he’s emo (a joke ofc)

The only ‘romantic context’ ever given to Naruto and Sasuke was the ‘accidental kiss’ which ended up like this

Over the course of the series we see Sasukes attachment to team 7, in the same context given before. Best friend and rival, girl he feels protective affection for.

however, the context between sasusaku was always romanticized

 Part 2 : http://sasukeuchihayas.tumblr.com/post/160820240389/this-comes-full-circle-in-the-gara-fight-when

Part 3 : http://sasukeuchihayas.tumblr.com/post/160820241909/if-we-do-a-time-skip-to-after-the-akatsuki-arc