#?? technically but its for like the third thing that physically appears in the game

[commander-damneron]

Endless Ocean knew what they were doing by making the first mystery thing a giant gold coelacanth, they know their audience

[spiritluxray]

curious about your jsab au is it a crossover au or it's own thing?

It's a crossover between GD, JSaB, and PA! It actually started in GD an irl year ago but the trio traveled to JSaB.

The AU also has some TPC aspects to it, like some small mechanics and characters

I don't own PA myself, so it's story to Data Mind is probably very off. I'll give the full rundown of what happened leading up to the trio being in JSaB now

Basically, the three started off in their own rhythm game worlds. Dash is a decent GD player, but finds himself to be quite lonely and struggles to socialize confidently with his stuttering. Cyan travels with the group of heroes in JSaB, being Gold, Green, and Orange, and it takes place a few months after sealing away the third corruption (the one that takes place in game). Nano was just recently created to fight back against a strange virus that had been taking over the PA world, and was created with staggeringly amazing knowledge on machinery (technically being one herself too).

The AU first technically starts when the PA virus breaks out of the game and leaks into nearby downloads. The virus can't survive in different worlds too different than its own, so it didn't make much progress until it ran into JSaB, which was similar enough in worlds to survive. The virus couldn't do harm in the JSaB world though, but Nano didn't know that at the time and desperately tried to contact the JSaB world to warn them. This is when Nano met Cyan, digitally through worlds that were alike enough to communicate. Over the next two weeks, the virus grew stronger in PA and started to sap Nano's strength away. She thought that JSaB was too risky as well now, thinking that the virus would end her there too, so she had to find a backup, which is how she found GD. Geometry Dash proved to be a world close enough to where Nano could travel to it, but far enough to where the virus couldn't do harm. Nano and Cyan became good friends over the month of planning, and was able to learn how to link the worlds thanks to one of Cyan's friends, a smart robot hero that went by Cyanide.

Nano was too weak at this point to link the worlds are travel, so she asked Cyan for help. Cyan willingly took damage, giving the energy to Nano so she could bring both herself and Cyan to a safe world, the world of GD.

In the GD world, Nano met Dash, who she saw as a very timid and quiet square. Cyan found Nano and Dash shortly after, but was weak and hurt from giving Nano some of his power, causing the damage chip to become permanent. The three became great friends over time in GD, and Nano "repaired" Cyan by giving him the robotic corner he has now (Cyan can only take two hits still, the metal piece didn't actually heal him. It was more of a confidence boost than anything).

Half a year passes with the trio being in GD. Nano doesn't really like how she looks, because of course their physical appearance changes between worlds and her grey and red got swapped upon entering GD. Nano works to linking up to the JSaB world, because Cyan was getting extremely homesick and anxious. Dash came along too, because he could never leave the two, and wanted to start anew in a world he considered better (needless to say, Dash had a bit of a rough time in his past)

The three travel to JSaB successfully the next day. Upon entering, though, it was clear that the virus could affect JSaB more and a large rift was created from where the three fell in. Along with that, the energy from the rift caused a strange tree to grow in Paradise. From that point on, is the start of Data Mind, the three traveling Paradise together.

EDIT: important to the story, the rift is still active and visible in the sky of Paradise. It doesn't happen too often, but it is linked to GD and PA so shapes/characters from the other two worlds can fall into JSaB. The rift is directly connected to Nano and the trio theorizes that it would only go away if Nano shattered.

[amaryllis-sagitta]

In retrospective, the shift whose culmination we see today seems to be about making hardware more uniform and the system infrastructure less opaque to anyone who isn't a developer.

Looking back as a millennial, I feel like the Gen-X are the most literate computer-wise because they dealt with all the weird pre-Windows systems and physical LAN party setups before the Internet at homes became fast enough to hold online gaming. Still, it's strange to read posts like this as a Millennial who was taught to use a PC in primary school because it was a new thing for the entire generation, and then I had to pass this knowledge on to teach my own parents to send an email and not to panic whenever "my window disappeared".

What I see in my boomer parents is a sort of a mental blockade from engaging with a typical window-based UI, like every time you could literally read something on the menu and click accordingly to perform an unknown activity, my mum has a little meltdown and wants to be taught the activity step by step so she can perform it by muscle memory. The greatest peril of my mum's boomer PC experience is that she doesn't watch what's going on on her screen outside the application in focus, she is not used to interactivity on a basic level, a robust system UI is too much for her because you need to learn to "dwell" in a structure of a certain complexity, you need to get used to the thought that a PC has a massive hidden side among all the nested folders, settings and policies. I think my dad has less problems with using a PC because he had vocational technical education before, he understands mechanical schematics and electrical installation charts and abstract structures of that sort. A classic menu is a little like this.

As a kid, I was taught basics of the structure of a pre-XP Windows system. I was taught a common technique to type using as many fingers as possible, without looking at the keyboard as you do it. I was taught how to use the Office suite, how to build a simple website using the ugliest incarnation of HTML, and how to push it to the teacher's host using a FTP manager. I was even taught basics of programming in one of the code-free visual gamified editors made solely for teaching purposes. All of it to familiarize us with a certain innate logic of software that was norm at the time.

Even as an IT worker nowadays, accessing most things I need on mobile devices as a QA tester is locked behind a hidden procedure of enabling Developer tools, and even then, if you look at the folder structure on the device when accessing it from your PC, the said structure is more code-like and obviously not meant for any end user. Or, I need to use workarounds through third party applications like iTunes to even access some stuff in the first place. iOS is a true nightmare when it comes to trying access the things Apple does not want an average end user to access.

What mostly changed since my childhood is that hardware is becoming uniform to the point building your own PC and setting it up to work is easy and foolproof, and Windows is trying to be quicker in providing some template behaviors and more "transparent" in its inner workings. The mobile device design simplified user experience to the levels of "Go to store, download app, tap and swipe, the system takes care of everything else". At the same time, the systems are more intrusive, and they heavily discourage messing around and finding out. Everything is meant to be done from the status bar, or a popup that appears right at your main screen.

Teaching my parents smartphones was a different experience insofar as notifications and popups from Android keep appearing without their consent, so to speak. They feel like they have no agency over their own phone, all they want is to make a call, the entire device with its apps and ads and intrusive messages is the enemy, and "they don't want IT" (where "IT" is an SMS from the provider, a system update notification, a push notification, information about used data, there's too many icons again, there's too much everything, yada yada). Once they learned the basics of using a laptop to click things on an Internet browser, phones started to be the opposite thing.

So this was originally a response to this post:

****

****

Which is about people wanting an AO3 app, but then it became large and way off topic, so here you go.

Nobody under the age of 20 knows how to use a computer or the internet. At all. They only know how to use apps. Their whole lives are in their phones or *maybe* a tablet/iPad if they're an artist. This is becoming a huge concern.

I'm a private tutor for middle- and high-school students, and since 2020 my business has been 100% virtual. Either the student's on a tablet, which comes with its own series of problems for screen-sharing and file access, or they're on mom's or dad's computer, and they have zero understanding of it.

They also don't know what the internet is, or even the absolute basics of how it works. You might not think that's an important thing to know, but stick with me.

Last week I accepted a new student. The first session is always about the tech -- I tell them this in advance, that they'll have to set up a few things, but once we're set up, we'll be good to go. They all say the same thing -- it won't be a problem because they're so "online" that they get technology easily.

I never laugh in their faces, but it's always a close thing. Because they are expecting an app. They are not expecting to be shown how little they actually know about tech.

I must say up front: this story is not an outlier. This is *every* student during their first session with me. Every single one. I go through this with each of them because most of them learn more, and more solidly, via discussion and discovery rather than direct instruction.

Once she logged in, I asked her to click on the icon for screen-sharing. I described the icon, then started with "Okay, move your mouse to the bottom right corner of the screen." She did the thing that those of us who are old enough to remember the beginnings of widespread home computers remember - picked up the mouse and moved it and then put it down. I explained she had to pull the mouse along the surface, and then click on the icon. She found this cumbersome. I asked if she was on a laptop or desktop computer. She didn't know what I meant. I asked if the computer screen was connected to the keyboard as one piece of machinery that you can open and close, or if there was a monitor - like a TV - and the keyboard was connected to another machine either by cord or by Bluetooth. Once we figured it out was a laptop, I asked her if she could use the touchpad, because it's similar (though not equivalent) to a phone screen in terms of touching clicking and dragging.

Once we got her using the touchpad, we tried screen-sharing again. We got it working, to an extent, but she was having trouble with... lots of things. I asked if she could email me a download or a photo of her homework instead, and we could both have a copy, and talk through it rather than put it on the screen, and we'd worry about learning more tech another day. She said she tried, but her email blocked her from sending anything to me.

This is because the only email address she has is for school, and she never uses email for any other purpose. I asked if her mom or dad could email it to me. They weren't home.

(Re: school email that blocks any emails not whitelisted by the school: that's great for kids as are all parental controls for young ones, but 16-year-olds really should be getting used to using an email that belongs to them, not an institution.)

I asked if the homework was on a paper handout, or in a book, or on the computer. She said it was on the computer. Great! I asked her where it was saved. She didn't know. I asked her to search for the name of the file. She said she already did that and now it was on her screen. Then, she said to me: "You can just search for it yourself - it's Chapter 5, page 11."

This is because homework is on the school's website, in her math class's homework section, which is where she searched. For her, that was "searching the internet."

Her concepts of "on my computer" "on the internet" or "on my school's website" are all the same thing. If something is displayed on the monitor, it's "on the internet" and "on my phone/tablet/computer" and "on the school's website."

She doesn't understand "upload" or "download," because she does her homework on the school's website and hits a "submit" button when she's done. I asked her how she shares photos and stuff with friends; she said she posts to Snapchat or TikTok, or she AirDrops. (She said she sometimes uses Insta, though she said Insta is more "for old people"). So in her world, there's a button for "post" or "share," and that's how you put things on "the internet".

She doesn't know how it works. None of it. And she doesn't know how to use it, either.

Also, none of them can type. Not a one. They don't want to learn how, because "everything is on my phone."

And you know, maybe that's where we're headed. Maybe one day, everything will be on "my phone" and computers as we know them will be a thing of the past. But for the time being, they're not. Students need to learn how to use computers. They need to learn how to type. No one is telling them this, because people think teenagers are "digital natives." And to an extent, they are, but the definition of that has changed radically in the last 20-30 years. Today it means "everything is on my phone."

[news4usonline]

Clippers-Nuggets is an instant classic

Inglewood, CA (News4usOnline) - Game 4 delivered on the promise of this being one of the best first-round series of the postseason. There was a massive fourth quarter comeback, countless runs, a buzzer beating dunk, and it got very chippy. The Nuggets miraculously escaped with a win, despite being outscored by the Clippers by 18 points in the fourth quarter, and now the series heads back to Denver tied at two games apiece. The game was very physical, and a scuffle broke out at the end of the first half, resulting in three players from each team receiving technical fouls. Aaron Gordon and James Harden were lucky to remain in the game after appearing to throw open-fist punches in each other's direction. In a regular-season game, they would have surely been ejected, but this is playoff basketball. Gordon ultimately got the last laugh, sealing the 101-99 win for the Nuggets by jamming a Nikola Jokic miss through the rim as time expired. https://twitter.com/nuggets/status/1916297013660160156 Jokic, the most dominant basketball player in the world, scored 36 points, grabbed 21 rebounds, and dished out eight assists, asserting his dominance on the series. "I thought they were aggressive, like they are supposed to be, down 2-1, and we didn't really meet that intensity until the fourth quarter. That is just a lesson for us to stay the course, do what we are supposed to do, and continue to execute," said Tyronn Lue. "2-2, they are a great team that won a championship a couple of years ago, so they are not going to give in. We have to beat them." Denver came to play defensively, trapping Harden and forcing the ball into the hands of other players. Harden and Kawhi Leonard each turned the ball over twice in the first quarter, and Kris Dunn, the recipient of Harden's passes, started the game 0-4 from the field. "You have to give them credit. They played a great game. They came out with a lot of energy, and Jokic led them all night, just him being an MVP player, getting to his spots, and making shots," said Leonard. Harden made the right plays, but almost to a fault early on. After a couple of no-calls on drives to the basket, he was not aggressively looking for his shot. One three-point attempt through three quarters is unacceptable, especially on a night when Dunn and Nicolas Batum were 1-12 from three. The step-back was non-existent until Harden finally got to the foul line for only the second time in the game with 20 seconds remaining in the third quarter.

Inglewood, CA - James Harden of the Los Angeles Clippers (1) tries to evade the defense of the Denver Nuggets in Game 3 of a best-of-seven NBA Western Conference series between the two teams on April 24, 2025. Photo credit: Dennis J. Freeman/News4usOnline "We can't allow their defensive pressure to take us out of what we are doing, and we can't allow the pressure to wear James out. There are some things that we need to do differently so that we can save him for a game where he is not getting as worn down," said Lue. If Harden is feeling some fatigue, then Denver is definitely feeling it as well as this series progresses. Some Clippers fans might be disappointed that Russell Westbrook did not suit up for Denver (they are now 8-0 without him this season), but his minutes are highly valuable on a team that lacks reliable depth behind him. The Nuggets are essentially playing a five-man rotation without Westbrook in the lineup. All five starters played at least 42 minutes. Jamal Murray was subbed out at one point in the first quarter and returned to the game a minute later. Denver is opting to give its players short breathers, and the longer this series goes, the better off the Clippers are. https://twitter.com/nuggets/status/1916283643867369963 Just when it looked like the Nuggets had figured the Clippers out and built a 22-point lead, the fatigue started to show. LA put on an absolute master class in the fourth quarter, reeling in a tired Denver team and even taking a one-point lead with a minute left in the game. The Clippers went into a zone for the first time in the series, further wearing down Jokic with extreme pressure, something they might want to revisit. It will be interesting to see what kind of adjustments are made by both teams in Game 5. Any sort of edge is crucial in this series, as three of the four games have come down to the last shot, further signifying the importance of every possession. Read the full article

[pharrell-the-formation]

I want to share a small hypothesis about the world of Simulacra. I have to clarify that I haven't played the third game yet, and got only a couple of endings in the second one, because I can't stand this part. Perhaps somewhere there are direct explicit denials of the following, then take it just as another AU of mine.

So the thought is: what if the characters in these games are living in a simulation?

Let me explain my train of thought. None of the games give us more information about simulacrums than the fact that they are some powerful creatures that love to play around with human destinies. And their most important distinguishing feature is that they are all tightly tied to different kind of technologies. Then the question arises: did they exist before technology? Given HOW MUCH exactly this feature plays a role in the plots of games, I doubt it. However, it means that they were also created by people, which contradicts the fact that only a few units of the population know about them, and then only the very grains. Even the verified methods of destroying creatures do not exist, except for one of the positive ending of the second part, invented in the process.

The only significant thing that the creators gave us on this topic is an article from the second game. It says that the influencer awakened the beast simply by becoming popular. It didn't look like he had summoned a demon with a ritual, it was more like some being was just showing an interest in him. In addition, Charlie himself spoke of this creature as a Deity. And this, after all, correlates with past information - they have repeatedly proved in words and in deeds that in terms of abilities they are MUCH superior to people.

What I try to say is that one of the variations of the theory about our world as a matrix implies that there is a certain superior race that controls this matrix and we are a human zoo for it or something like that. In my version, simulacrum creatures actually are some kind of higher organisms and the world of characters for them is like a fancy board game with a ton of figurines laid out in front of their metaphorical noses. They lived quietly for themselves, and then something took place that irritated them and they began to abuse their little animals in various twisted ways.

Therefore, they do not have a full-fledged physical appearance and communicate only via messages in instant messengers or through human carriers. They are with people on different levels of reality, like pen pals from different cities, with the only difference being that one can kill another using only its will. Therefore, Taylor's consciousness was captured in seconds despite the distance. Therefore, in the bad ending, Teddy can be DELETED from the world. Therefore, Maya saw technical interference in reality, around her.

And you, as a player, are immersed in the shoes of just such a non-playable character, a faceless member of the crowd, who must find a way to agree with someone, who is actually playing here.

[pingutats]

i just had such a good request for a fic. dom/sub dynamic with dom!harry where y/n is being spanked for misbehavior and she ends up crying during it because she feels like she deserves to be hurt, and harry stops immediately and there’s a lot of fluffy aftercare and physical affection

thank you for the request!! i know it took me a million years to get to writing this but finally did it... i know it strays a little bit from all the details of your request but i hope you enjoy regardless!

warnings: spanking, dom/sub dynamic, descriptions of anxiety (maybe don’t read if you’re in a weird headspace, it’s not exactly pleasant!)

word count: 1.7k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

As soon as Y/N hears Harry’s car in the driveway, she dashes from the kitchen to the front door like a kid that’s heard an ice-cream van. After the day of work at home she’s had, of redoing paperwork she’d messed up the first time and struggling through technical issues and communication errors over email—she just needs Harry so badly.

In fact, she’d texted him earlier to let him know. Quite blatantly. With a photo she prays he opened when there was nobody else around.

When Y/N opens the door for him he freezes, taking in her appearance. She’s wearing just panties and one of his shirts, her bare legs completely on display for him. His gaze sweeps up and down her body for a second, then he swears under his breath and strides in quickly. Y/N jumps back to give him room, waiting a few feet ahead in the hallway.

He shuts the door with his arm swinging back behind him, not even glancing over his shoulder to watch it close.

There’s a second of silence as they stare each other down, and it’s in this second that Y/N feels them slip into the roles of the game she’s been wanting to play all day. His eyes go from wide in shock to steady. Her head bows almost of its own accord, responding to the straightening of Harry’s shoulders after he drops his bag.

He inhales sharply through his nose and drops his keys into the bowl on the bench. “You’ve been doing this on purpose, darling,” he says in a measured tone. It isn’t a question. He won’t be asking questions now—she won’t have to think, she can just listen to him, let him take over now.

She plays with the bottom of his t-shirt that she’s wearing, pulling it up enough to reveal the slightly paler skin where her shorts would usually cover.

Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Come here,” he says, beckoning her over.

She considers refusing, just to be a brat, but it’s a lot easier to just go along with him now she’s getting what she wanted. She twists her hands in the t-shirt in front of her as she approaches him, averting her eyes from his as he watches her, suddenly vulnerable under his gaze.

When she’s close enough, he reaches out and grabs her wrists to yank her grip on the shirt free, pulling her off balance so the only thing that stops her falling flat on her face is his arms. She tries to relax into his grip, tries to let herself go.

“Been so fucking needy today. That photo — nearly had me getting hard in the studio right in front of everyone, love,” he says, squeezing her wrists almost painfully. “And look how you answer the door, nearly naked for anyone walking on the street to see.” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue condescendingly. “Do you want to apologise for anything?”

She looks at him, pretends to think, and then shakes her head.

He sighs. “Of course not, you little brat.” His grip loosens. “Alright then. Go upstairs for me.”

She blinks at him.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Go on.” He spins her around and nudges her towards the stairs with a gentle push.

She glances over her shoulder at him before she goes and he only raises his eyebrows expectantly. She’s almost tempted to pull the back of the t-shirt down over her ass to cover herself, but that wouldn’t get her what she needs, and what she needs is Harry to take care of her—so she keeps her head bowed as she walks up the stairs, adding a little swing in her hips with each step just as the icing on the cake. She smiles when she hears his deep inhale from the hallway as he watches her the whole time.

Upstairs, she sits on the end of their bed with her hands in her lap, scratching at days-old nail polish she’ll need to redo soon. There’s a knot in her stomach that’s been twisting all day, stresses piling up and morphing into some ugly feeling she can’t shake, not without Harry’s help. She manages to peel all the bright pink colour off her left thumbnail while she waits.

It seems like forever before she hears Harry’s footsteps up the stairs but when she does, she straightens up. The sound of the door opening makes her jump in nervous shock. She flexes her fingers, trying to calm her jitters. It’s Harry. She needs him.

“Being such a brat today,” he says when he’s finally in front of her. “Aren’t you? Don’t know how to behave.” He sits beside her, squishing her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. “Need me to teach you a lesson, hm?”

She nods at him, eyes moony. Yes, this is what she wants, needs from him—to let him take over for a little while, let him take out his frustration on her, help her let go of her own.

His grip softens a bit. “This okay, baby?” he asks more quietly.

She swallows. “Yeah.”

He leans forward and gives her a quick kiss. She feels like melting against the softness of his lips, pressing against her own, the mouth she knows so well. It’s a comfort in the mess that her mind is feeling like right now.

But he isn’t so gentle as he drags her over his lap a moment later, her face roughly pushed down into the mattress. His hand squeezes her ass, only barely covered by her panties, and her breath hitches.

“Count for me.”

“Yes sir,” she breathes, closing her eyes.

Her exhale is cut short by the force of his palm cracking against her skin, jolting her forward over his lap. The sting dissipates quickly, taking none of the tension inside her with it.

“One,” she says.

“Good girl.” His hand comes down on her again, harder this time.

She screws her eyes shut. “Two.”

It isn’t feeling like how she wants it to feel. She’s too tense, restless, her mind unwilling to float away under Harry’s touch. The pain, which usually is laced with something brilliant and exciting, is just pain today. But with all the mistakes she’s made today, all the things she messed up that have just added to her workload and her stress—maybe this is what she deserves. Punishments are called that for a reason.

So she stays where she is, her head lowered so Harry won’t see anything wrong. She gasps at the third, and it takes her a second to remember she needs to count. “Three,” she says, her voice shuddering.

Harry pauses and she fears she’s made him upset, spoken too quietly, taken too long—she can’t do anything right.

“Love,” he says. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder gently. “Are those good tears or bad tears?”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and in the pause, realises her cheeks are wet. “Um,” she says. Her voice shakes.

Harry’s arm snakes underneath her and pulls her up, manoeuvring her so she straddles his lap and he can see her face. The crease between his brows is deep as his eyes dart over her face, his thumb coming to her cheek to brush a tear away.

She leans her head into his palm that was cracking down onto her skin just a minute ago and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“What happened? When did it change?” he asks, his voice soft again, his character leaving.

She shrugs. She doesn’t trust herself to speak without crying more, and she feels stupid enough already.

“It’s alright, love,” he says, shifting so he can sit up straighter and pull her closer to his chest. He rubs her back, kissing her hair. “Let’s just rest for a moment, alright?”

She nods into his shoulder, hiding her face. His hand cradles the back of her head. The panic that she was feeling is dissolving into nothing. All day she felt so tense with so much twisting inside her, and she’d thought she could force it out painfully—she was wrong, of course, and now she feels awful for roping Harry into her misguided attempt to fix herself.

After a couple minutes, Harry taps her to get her to look up at him. “Why’d you want a punishment today?” he asks, without accusation.

She shrugs, raising her shoulders as high as she can and then letting them drop sharply. “Just felt like I needed it.”

He nods. He understands that sometimes she feels like this—needs to lose herself in playing a role for an evening, forget about real life and its responsibilities—because he knows the feeling too. She’s helped him in this way before. They take it in turns: give each other what they need, when they need it. “Wasn’t helpful today, though?” he prompts, his eyebrows raised sympathetically.

She shakes her head, looking sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” he says. He smiles a little bit and a shallow dimple appears in his cheek. “That’s fine. It’s just a game. We play it whenever you want to, we stop playing when you’re not enjoying it. That’s important, alright?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Sorry.”

“Need to stop apologising, baby,” he tells her. “Just keep talking to me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He kisses her cheek and the gesture raises butterflies in her stomach, even still after all the months they’ve been together. It reminds her that he’s there for her, to look after her, to take care of her when she can’t do it for herself. His lips stay close to her skin as he asks, “How can I help, though, really?”

She buries her face back into his shoulder. “Dunno,” she says, her voice muffled. “Just need you.”

She feels his chin gently knock against the top of her head as he nods, his arms tightening around her again. “You’ve got me, baby. Always got me.”

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thank you for reading! if you did like it, a reblog would be really appreciated as well as any feedback/comments you might have! you can find more of my writing on my masterlist.

[kujakumai]

cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

--

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

--

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"

[uovoc]

Murderbot privacy

“SecUnit is a very private person, it doesn’t like to talk about its feelings” made me do a double take because I was like, SecUnit, who’s listening to you right now? Since when has it cared about privacy? Because while MB is a secretive fucker, it sure doesn’t extend that courtesy to others. And what I could figure out so far to explain this apparent hypocrisy is some more-or-less coherent stuff.

Summary:

MB conflates personal, private, and secret because these categories could not exist separately under the regime of surveillance and objectification inflicted upon it in the CR. This meant that the development of MB’s sense of personal identity was limited to its internal self. As a result, MB has a good instinctive grasp of the right to privacy regarding one’s emotions and internal state. However, its lack of bodily autonomy and background as a cog in the CR surveillance state have led it to regard physical privacy as a personal privilege rather than a right.

2200 words below the cut. I think about Murderbot a normal amount

Terminology

For clarity, the terms personal, private, secret, and privacy will be defined basically by their Merriam-Webster definitions. Personal will be used to mean relating to an individual’s character, conduct, motives, or private affairs. Secret is defined as kept from knowledge or view; hidden. Private will be used to mean 1) intended for or restricted to the use of particular person, group, or class. Privacy will be defined as the quality or state of being apart from company or observation; freedom from unauthorized intrusion. These are not comprehensive definitions, but for clarity’s sake they’re the ones I will use here.

The connotations that they carry in this analysis are:

Things that are secret are actively concealed. If something is secret, people are not aware of its existence. Secrets carry the implication of potential harm if divulged.

Privacy and things that are private are generally kept as such by social norms rather than active enforcement. The existence of things that are private may be known, but the details are limited to a restricted (trusted) audience. For instance, to quote Beatrice-Otter, “the contents of my underwear drawer are private, but not secret.” If you’re at someone’s house, you could technically go look in someone’s underwear drawer – it’s not like they can stop you – but out of the mutually agreed-upon respect for privacy and definition of what qualifies as private, you don’t. Things kept private tend to be done so for personal-emotional reasons rather than practical reasons.

These are limited definitions and not mutually exclusive. For instance, privacy can be enforced by gates and barriers like secrets are. These definitions aren’t meant to be comprehensive, but just to establish the meanings and connotations that I’m working with.

Privacy in the CR versus Preservation

Murderbot’s approach to privacy reflects the attitudes of the Corporation Rim. Preservation regards privacy more like a personal right and establishes it through primarily through societal norms, while the Corporation Rim treats privacy more like a personal privilege which individuals are responsible for securing and maintaining. In Preservation, freedom from observation is the default, and surveillance is the exception. To MBs annoyance, unless a space is singled out for security reasons (cargo spaces and high-traffic zones on the station), it’s generally left unsurveilled (residential areas, pedestrian corridors, most of the planet that we see in NE). Preservation also has cultural expectations of certain types of spaces being private. MB doesn’t share these expectations, as it notes in NE when it admits that its eavesdropping habit is “a little incriminating with the whole listening to private conversations in secured spaces and personal dwellings thing.” The specificity of “secured spaces and personal dwellings” makes this sound like something someone else said to MB that it’s now repeating, especially since it doesn’t agree that what others consider private conversations or private spaces are inherently off-limits to observation.

Unlike Preservation, MB sees privacy as a privilege rather than an inherent right, because it’s more used to the attitude of the CR surveillance state. In the labor installations that MB was deployed on, everything people did was observed by SecSystem at all times. If you wanted privacy, you had to pay for it, as MB notes in ES when it’s complaining about the lack of cameras in the fancy hotel that it books when it arrives. Even then, you might not get what you pay for, and MB take steps to secure PresAux’s own camera network that they later set up. In the CR, privacy is closer in meeting to secrecy, something that must be actively enforced and secured against intrusion. Corporate entities in the CR are motivated to erode personal privacy for profit in the form of datamining and workforce control. Privacy is thus a personal responsibility, since the surrounding environment is one that seeks to undermine it. This is the attitude towards privacy that MB is working with, and part of why it feels entitled to constant surveillance of its humans. In contrast, privacy in Preservation is a right maintained by the collective expectations and policies of the larger community. Station Security doesn’t exactly approve of MB setting up its own surveillance network, but nor does it do regular drone removal sweeps. MB expects privacy to be actively secured, and sees Preservation’s easily breached systems as the equivalent of leaving your valuables out on the lawn. If you don’t want to be surveilled, don’t go around being surveillable.

Surveillance exemptions

Instances where MB appears to respect the notion of privacy are sex/bodily functions, proprietary data, and feelings talks. However, out of these 3 categories, feelings are the topic where MB’s motivations align most closely with the human understanding of privacy. MB’s aversion to sex is more of an ick factor thing, since it repeatedly states that it finds human bodily functions to be disgusting. (I think touch aversion is also part of the sex-repulsed thing, but touch aversion aligns more with ick factor and also with lack of bodily autonomy, discussed below.)

Proprietary data is another topic on which MB appears to be on the same page as humans regarding “private” as being restricted to a particular group: it doesn’t tell the Mensah parents about Amena’s creepy date, and it removes the audio when it shows Indah the video of Mensah complaining about another councilmember. In both of these cases, there’s the potential for harm if the information is divulged: Amena would get scolded and possibly grounded by her parents, and Mensah’s relationships with the Council and Senior Indah would be damaged by her lack of professionalism. In a business context, proprietary data is information kept within a company because it would give your competitors an advantage, or because your competitors could use it to put you at a disadvantage – pretty much the same results, in the game of capitalism. Although both of these examples deal with personal-emotional information, the concept of proprietary data is closer to secrecy in its potential for harm and complete concealment of the information’s existence.

The third type of situation where MB appears to be on the same page as humans regarding privacy is people talking about their feelings. After Arada gets back from the Barish-Estranza negotiations, MB pointedly does not watch her and Overse make up because of the high likelihood that “they were having sex and/or a relationship discussion (either of which I would prefer to stab myself in the face than see).” Sex falls under the ick factor, but there’s a number of reasons the fandom collective braincell has pointed out for MB not wanting to watch people talk about their feelings:

MB exercising the privilege of not having to care about human feelings, as a formerly enslaved person subjected to human whims.

Secondhand embarrassment because MB would never talk about its feelings.

Related to the above, MB reflexively recoiling out of empathy because if it was in their position, it wouldn’t want someone listening in on its feelings.

Actually, now that I think of it, MB doesn’t go into great detail on why it doesn’t like watching humans talk about their feelings, unlike how it explicitly expresses its disgust for anything involving human fluids. Which is why I’ve got the suspicion that when it comes to feelings, MB does have a strong instinctive understanding of what it means for something to be private and, as a result, gets uncomfortable observing a moment that is not meant for others to see. MB has an easier time understanding how privacy applies to feelings rather than acts because unlike its body, its feelings are strongly tied to its concept of what is personal.

MB’s internal and external self

To paraphrase this one MDZS meta, MB’s body is not its own. MB’s sense of what is personal to it, or its sense of unique identity, applies more its internal self than its external self because of its former nonperson status in the CR. This informs what MB considers to be inherently private. While in the CR, its appearance and configuration were decided by the company. To be fair, humans don’t get to choose our original bodies either, but our bodies and the modifications we make to them tell a story of our personal background. The history inscribed in MB’s body, down to the logos etched on its structure, is that of a mass-produced piece of corporate equipment. MB does not have a particular attachment to its external appearance (“standard human”) because its appearance reflects the company’s choices rather than its own. (This changes after it gains the freedom to choose its own clothes and gets tabletop surgery from ART, discussed at the end.) Although MB’s configuration is what makes it a SecUnit, and being a SecUnit is an essential part of its identity, it’s not an identity that’s unique to MB.

For most of its life, MB’s actions have also been extensions of the company. Its actions have either been dictated by its clients and governor module, or it has had to pretend to be controlled by those things, which means making decisions which could conceivably have been issued with the governor module’s approval. MB is also used to selling its body, since it’s expected to literally sacrifice pieces of itself to keep its clients safe (an expectation it continues to hold). MB has been ship-of-Theseus’d to hell and back. The lack of both bodily autonomy and bodily safety due to its nonperson status in the CR means that MB considered its body to be neither private (restricted to the use of only one person) nor entirely personal (pertaining to its unique character).

As a consequence, MB doesn’t consider its external self to have the right to privacy. Although it doesn’t like being looked at, it’s reaction is to hide rather than ask people to stop. (This is also because MB isn’t used to exercising its personal preferences regarding other people’s actions, but that’s a different angle.) It doesn’t like it when Mensah walks into the security ready room, or when its humans and ART’s crew are watching it come out of involuntary shutdown on the deck, but it doesn’t tell them to stop. In general, MB doesn’t like being looked at because if it’s falling apart, it’s in a vulnerable state, and if it’s not falling apart, then being paid attention to used to carry the threat of abuse/incoming orders/being clocked as a rogue. These reasons are more about safety than privacy.

However, MB specifically doesn’t like people looking at its face are because its face shows its emotions, and its emotions are a reflection of its internal state and, by extension, its internal self. MB considers its thoughts and emotions to have the right to privacy because they are the aspects of itself that it has been able to control, and thus has been able to make personal. When Gurathin reveals its name, it grates out, “That was private.” On one level, Murderbot’s name is an honest expression of what it thinks it is and all the associated self-loathing and guilt. MB does NOT want humans to know its name because then they know how it feels about a topic truly important to it. On another level, its name reveals its self-deprecating humor, something a ruthless killing machine is not supposed to have.

Everything that MB considers personal, it has also needed to keep secret, because in the CR, it’s not supposed to be a person the first place. Conversely, the only reason it’s been able to have personal opinions and emotions is because it has been able to keep these things secret. Anything MB would have wanted to be private – restricted to a trusted audience – would have also needed to be secret because of the pervasive surveillance present in the CR, the nonperson status of constructs, and the fact that it had no trusted audience with which it could share private information.

Conclusions

MB conflates the categories of personal, private, and secret because these concepts could not exist separately under the regime of surveillance and objectification inflicted upon it in the CR. Anything in one category had to be able to fit into the others, which limited the development of MB’s sense of personal identity to its internal self. Although MB has good instinctive grasp of the right to privacy regarding one’s internal state, MB’s lack of bodily autonomy and its background as a cog in the CR surveillance state have led it to regard physical privacy as a personal privilege rather than a right.

Now that MB’s in a safer place (kidnappings by giant asshole research transports aside), it’s beginning to separate out those concepts a bit and allow things to be personal and private but not secret (its desire to be with ART, its affection towards Mensah). It’s also starting to allow things that are neither secret nor private to be personal (expressing preferences in its hairstyle, clothing, and aversion to physical touch), which can also be considered MB reclaiming its external self/body.

[help-shes-not-dead]

Review:

Pumpkin eater

Video game

4.5 stars

Pumpkin eater is a horror visual novel created by Thugzilla. It is a static (read like a book with no choices) game about the dissolution of a 1950’s suburban family and a boy with a pumpkin for a head.

The game begins directly after the scene of a tragic accident: driving back from an unspecified location, a family runs over their own son, who was playing in the driveway. This was a fascinating and rather jarring opening to the story- we have no clue what has just happened, there is no character introduction, we just hear the sickening thud and the hurried dialogue of our characters as they realise what has happened. Unable to cope with the grief of killing her own son, the mother takes his corpse and replaces his mangled head with that of a pumpkin’s. This is the introduction to a brilliant slow-burn horror.

One of the things I enjoy is the symbolism of names in the story. No character is given a name: they are referred to by their relations to each other, such as ‘the Father’ or ‘the Daughter’. This gives a sense of the disposability of these characters, the sense that this could be any family in the right situation. Only the daughter- the character you play as mostly- is named, deliberately, at the very end: a symbolic way to show her breaking free from the nightmare that she faces.

Another good concept is the scientific reasoning behind the story. The main horror element in the novel is rot: the physical rot of a slowly decaying corpse, and the metaphorical rot of the Mother’s derangement as she drives herself and her family deeper into her delusion. Thugzilla has stated that they wanted to have scientific accuracy in their description of the rotting body- there is a section in the main menu where you can learn about the technical processes of decay you see described, such as rigor mortis and the release of gases. This really helps bring a sense of uncomfortable reality that the game thrives off of. We have all seen, if not a corpse, at least rotting fruit. We can imagine the maggots that spawn from mouldy things and feel revolution about finding them in your food. We can picture the green sliminess, mushy to the touch. It is a very real feeling, something that helps ground a fairly fantastical story in reality.

Another great thing about the story is the artwork. A concept such as pumpkin eater’s can become cliche or cheap quickly, yet I believe the artwork really helps it avoid this fate. It’s heavily stylised, with this watercolour-esque technique reminiscent of old paper puppets. The images of the decaying corpse are helped by this: you can see that the art is less trying to make you squirm with its body horror, more simply depicting the horror of the situation. A small detail I really enjoyed was the growing disheveledness of the father, physically shown by the appearance of coffee stains on his face mimicking a 5 o’clock shadow. It’s a small detail that really shows the care that went into making the game.

Something I disliked was the use of character perspective in the game. As said before, you play mainly in third person looking in on the thoughts of the daughter. This is good: she’s a character you can empathize with and being a young girl in the 50’s you can really believe she has nowhere to go for help. The helplessness of the situation is another really good part of the story. However, what I disliked were the 2-3 occasions at the beginning in which we saw the perspective of the mother. I understand that it was a way to show her growing delusion, but it really shifted the tone of the story. It was jarring to go from a sad situation to a mad one, only to jump back in at the sadness. As well as this, near the end of the story the character of the mother felt increasingly like a caricature of the ‘scary madwoman’ than a character with actual depth. Her actions make sense, yet she does sometimes feel corny in her dialogue.

Overall, I thought that this was a brilliantly gruesome horror with beautiful art and a clear passion in its design.

[rhetorical-ink]

Haikyuu!! Top 5 Ships: Oikawa

** SOUTH AMERICAN SPOILERS BELOW **

Haikyuu!! is wonderful, in part because unlike other series, the sky’s the limit on how many ships can set sail and be embraced by the fandom. I wanted to go through some of my favorite characters from the series and my Top 5 favorite ships for them! 

Of course, we have to start with my favorite “Trash King”: Toru Oikawa! 

5. Kuroo x Oikawa

The rarest of the pairs in this post, but I find it hilarious that despite these two never sharing a panel of screen time together, Furudate loves to constantly sketch these two characters together. 

Personality-wise, these two actually have a lot in common. Kuroo gives off that “con man” vibe in Chapter 401 to those around him, and Oikawa is constantly being described as putting on a “fake persona” in public by Iwaizumi. But, both former captains have the respect of their team and are great leaders. 

These two together would be like two gossipy high school drama queens sent on a trip to the shopping mall together. Both physically exude that “sexy, too-hot-to-handle” persona, but in reality are a pair of nerds obsessing over aliens and docosahexaenoic acid. Maybe it would’ve been too much for the universe to handle had they shared a scene in the series together. At least we have Furudate’s sketches...

4. Ushijima x Oikawa

Okay, so I’ll be honest. I was not originally a fan of this pairing -- I mean, Ushijima’s practically Oikawa’s biggest rival outside of Kageyama, so how could anyone picture them romantically involved? 

Well, then I read this fan fiction, and I realized that there could be something there. Unlike Oikawa’s dislike/rivalry with Kageyama, that basically stems from his jealousy and insecurity that his kouhai will succeed him as the better setter, Oikawa’s main rivalry with Ushijima is just beating him in a match. Sure, Ushijima aggravates Oikawa in the series by labeling his pride as “worthless,” but we all know how our Grand King comes back to make Ushijima eat those words later on, don’t we?

I think there’s an aspect of this ship that is similar to the Iwaoi pairing -- in that Ushijima’s stoic, genuine, and grounded personality is polar opposite Oikawa’s calculating, put-on, and often petty persona. Ushijima is basically the antithesis of Oikawa in the series, but as a ship, his quiet reserve opens up a lot of avenues for Oikawa to be himself and -- fan fiction-wise -- have a platform to open up and monologue his way through personal growth. It’s not my favorite ship for Oikawa, but after reading the linked fan fiction, I can see the appeal.

3. Sugawara x Oikawa

Okay, so this ship is just fun. There’s such a creative fandom with OiSuga, whether it’s them as Slytherin wizards in a Hogwarts AU, or as college roommates, or pretty much any scenario, there is so much creativity with this pairing, partially because of just how intriguing a concept this ship is!

I think the draw of this pairing is how different it is from the more popular Oikawa ships, like Iwaoi. Sugawara is a “team mom” kind of like Iwaizumi, but Suga’s personality couldn’t be more different than Iwaizumi’s. Sugawara has a fiercely supportive stance as a teammate, but he’s also a setter, and a calculating/manipulative one at that -- much like Oikawa. It’s canon that Oikawa nicknames him “Mr. Refreshing,” because he’s so different from Kageyama in terms of communicating and reading his team -- similarly to Oikawa, it could be noted. And you have two pretty setter squad members who are easy on the eyes, but have much more going on under the surface in terms of insecurities, pride, and goals as third years. 

And you wouldn’t think that Oikawa would work paired with another setter, but since Sugawara isn’t a “Kageyama-level prodigy,” it gives Oikawa the ability to be the better player on the court, so his pride isn’t hurt, but leaves Sugawara available as the more emotionally stable, “cool” partner. Plus, the two can share their own insecurities about being “replaced” by Kageyama as the better setter, but Sugawara can shut down any trash talk by Oikawa if it gets too overbearing. 

Basically, you have two characters who are more similar than they appear, but still have enough differences to be an interesting duo. It’s like if a sour patch kid and a candy apple hooked up. I’ll let you decide which is which. 

2. Hinata x Oikawa

So...Furudate has laid the groundwork for this ship since the first time Hinata spiked that ball past “The Great King,” but it wasn’t until the Rio mini arc that we really got this ship to come into its own. Hence why I put a spoiler tag on this post, for you anime-only’s who haven’t been blessed with the greatness that is the Rio Arc. 

Of any pairing in Haikyuu!! One could argue Hinata and Oikawa have done the most “shippy” things, with the exception of #1 below. I mean, they’ve:

* Taken the most epic, beautiful selfie together and sent to their exes rivals * Went on multiple dinner dates together (during the day and at night) * Are on a literal first-name basis  * Played two-on-two beach volleyball together (multiple times) * HUGGED ON LIVE TV DURING THE OLYMPICS 

I’ve wanted to post more on this, but Oikawa and Hinata actually have a lot in common, besides being Kageyama’s rival. They’re both naturally athletic, though definitely not “geniuses” or “prodigies” like Kageyama or Hoshiumi. They’re just two individuals who literally live and breathe volleyball and try to push themselves to their limits at being the best they can be. And their dynamic works really well -- Oikawa may be petty and snarky, but Hinata takes it all in stride and is a literal walking ball of unphased sunshine. Oikawa would probably think he has the upper hand in the relationship; at least, until Hinata speaks up and shows he’s not quite as naive as he appears. He’s just literally that optimistic/nice. One can definitely see the appeal of shipping these two similar-but-different characters. 

While some ship it as just a “fling in Rio,” and some ship it more as a fantastically developed friendship -- I mean, Hinata went on to play for Brazil, so you KNOW those two kept playing each other in matches and at training camps -- it’s still become one of the most unexpected, yet welcomed Oikawa pairing!

1. Iwaizumi x Oikawa

Okay, so this shouldn’t surprise anyone. But yeah, Iwaizumi and Oikawa have been paired up since the start of this series, and for good reason. 

There is so much to like about the pairing: The childhood friend aspect; the Setter/Spiker dynamic Haikyuu!! is so infamous for; how Iwaizumi takes none of Oikawa’s dramatic self and pushes past the “bs” to make sure Oikawa takes care of himself; how Oikawa teases Iwaizumi, yet is always by his side; how the two are so in sync, despite their different personalities; godzilla vs aliens...

...but I think I love best how they, similar to Hinata and Kageyama, are rivals who pursued their dreams: Oikawa making it to the Olympics on the team of his idol and mentor, and Iwaizumi as an Athletic Trainer on the team of his idol and mentor’s son. It’s so poetic, and I love in the final chapter that they finally get to face each other...even if it’s not “technically” against each other in a game.

This ship is probably one of the most iconic in Haikyuu!! and it’s hard to say anything that hasn’t already been stated, but I love it. There’s a reason it works so well, and Furudate has blessed us with all the hints and crumbles of canon for us fans to work with. Again, the greatest gift Haikyuu!! has given us is the fact that we can ship so many different characters together, and it all for the most part fits. ^^

[life-0r-death]

(so this is technically two different templates, but I couldn’t resist the part two. shoutout to @the-kings-of-games and @asix-oud for inspiring me to do this)

Character Profiles:

Jack Atlas - 20, blonde, 6' (anime height I think) “No one loves like Jack Atlas!”

Yusei Fudō - 18, raven with gold highlights, 5'7″ - “Jack it’s alright--”

How it happened:

Growing up together in the same orphanage under Martha’s care, both Jack and Yusei developed a bond of brotherly affection toward one another that they also shared with their third brother, Crow. However, as they got older, Yusei started to realize his feelings for Jack were anything but brotherly. With his growing adoration, he slowly tried to feel out how Jack felt, slowly implying that he had more love to give. It took Jack well after the Fortune Cup, and deep in the WRPG to realize that Yusei had affections for him. And that he returned them. Unintentionally, the two kissed and the rest was history.

Showing affection:

Both Jack and Yusei take initiative when it comes to affection. However, Jack is more of a wild card on whether or not he wants to provide verbal affection or a physical one. Often, Jack will either smirk at Yusei and tell him he’s a dream or he’s his knight in shining armor (This tends to turn Yusei quite red). Or, Jack will pull Yusei into a hug no matter where they are, just to hold him in his arms.

Yusei is all about non-verbal affection. He holds Jack, kisses him, gets him things, or just takes care of him as he needs to. Yusei finds that he never has the right words to tell Jack of how he feels, so a kiss and a hug are his better applications.

Handling Conflict:

More often than not, many of their conflicts revolve around Jack. Whether that be to duel, go out and visit Martha, or the strain of Jack’s worries on Yusei’s health and his own flighty nature, Jack is usually the most vocal on his distastes. He’s one to yell sharply and angrily before taking time away to cool down. He has a fight or flight response and his motions are to verbally fight and then flee. Yusei understands Jack’s needs to just be alone. He is not one to give chase (unless he absolutely needs to).

Yusei is the most neutral. Depending on the fight, he can range from just listening and helping to resolve it, or he can be just as stubborn as Jack, silently seething and also removing himself from the source. 

They usually come back to one another eventually, though, and kiss and make up.

Dealing with jealousy:

Both Yusei and Jack are prone to jealousy as both are quite popular in their inner circles. Jack is often seen by his fans who love to latch onto him and ask for his hand in marriage. Yusei’s jealousy certainly spikes, but he doesn’t let it overtake him. He usually just requires a bit more attention after the source departs, whether that be cuddling or Jack just being in the same space while he works on a duel runner.

When Jack becomes jealous, he’s just as eccentric as he normally is. He’s loud and in faces, grabbing Yusei and practically dragging him away or making sure that Yusei knows he’s there. There are no if, ands, or buts about it. Yusei will give him the affection he deserves and whatever the source may be, alive or inanimate, they will feel his wrath. 

Relationship Attitude:

When it comes to their relationship, Yusei holds it near and dear, performing all sorts of PDA and making sure Jack knows just how much he loves him. To Yusei, he spent too much time hiding his feelings, playing it safe, and watching Jack run off to become King all alone (when Yusei wanted nothing more than to be his Knight). He had to watch as Jack never understood his advances, watched as Jack would be harmed from the forces that came after them. Yusei had even gotten to the point that he would always appreciate Jack from afar, but know he’d never have him in his grasp. But once Jack admitted feelings for him too, Yusei made an oath to never hide his feelings again. So he devotes everything to Jack, understands Jack’s own fears and anxieties, and puts their relationship above all other projects. A duel runner can be fixed another day. Jack’s tears? Those need to be attended to now.

Jack is just as devoted to their relationship. Hell, he thinks about marriage at times. But he doesn’t perform as much PDA nor does he express how important it is to him as much as Yusei does. He does this for two reasons; one, Yusei obviously initiates it all. Jack doesn’t need to start any PDA since Yusei will begin it on his own. And Jack doesn’t need to overthrow Yusei with adoration since Yusei seems happy enough to give it mostly to him. The second reason Jack is a bit more reserved is because he has a hint of anxiety for their relationship. He’s always been a flighty man, ducking out when something was getting too much. He fears if something should go wrong, then he’d need that escape path to make sure Yusei doesn’t crash and burn. 

But both of them are rather happy in their relationship, usually talking about their fears and loyalties in the dead of night.

Attachment:

Each person toes the line depending on their emotions. But they are quite heavily attached to one another. Jack is not overly-protective nor is he hyper lax, and he does value his independence a bit more. This goes back to his flighty nature that should he need to run, he needs that space to get going. But this doesn’t mean he doesn’t adore Yusei.

Yusei doesn’t mind indepence or clinging. He’s just happy to be in Jack’s bubble or to just be in his thoughts. Yusei is, however, quite protective of Jack. Watching his man be flung from his duel runner too often has boosted this feral need to just keep him safe, as well as make sure Jack is never taken advantage of again. So Yusei is pretty quick to do research on events, offer up to go with, and generally make sure Jack is going to be okay.

Things to elaborate upon...

First to confess - both sort of did it at the same time. Yusei never really outwardly confessed until Jack sort of gave him this notion and feeling that they felt something similar. So they both openly told one another than they loved each other.

More popular/charismatic - both are held in high regard, Jack with his fanbase and Yusei with their inner circle as with the City for being the King (since he de-throned Jack).

Sick caregiver - both are pretty on even ground to take care of one another. Jack makes Yusei soups and foods, making sure he stays away from the duel runners to actually rest. Yusei pets Jack, gets him water, and is a constant by his side.

Does the cooking - Jack does it all. He’s a baker, having honed the skill while under Godwin’s foot and locked within his penthouse. When he wasn’t dueling, he was committing his time to something that distracted him long enough to feel alive. So he’s known as the chef in their household, and everyone loves his food.

Does the cleaning - since Jack does all the cooking, Yusei takes it upon himself to do the cleaning. He’s pretty good at making sure all of his tools are set and ready in the garage, so he makes sure those habits follow him into the house (and Jack isn’t too messy to begin with, he’s actually quite organized and proper).

Does most of the speaking - Not that Yusei doesn’t talk, he just lets Jack speak for him. Especially when he’s hands deep in a duel runner. Jack knows what’s on his mind, or knows what he likes to eat or drink, so he lets his man take care of him in his own ways. Plus, Yusei is pretty lax on requested subjects, like what they’d wear to some party. Jack cares about that stuff, so Yusei lets him talk for both of them.

Designated driver - Now, Yusei is deemed this because he is also overprotective. He doesn’t want Jack crashing, so if they have to go somewhere and both don’t have to have their runners, Yusei will be the one to drive and make sure his King makes it in one piece.

Has good penmanship - Jack knows cursive from his time with Godwin. Martha taught both him and Yusei a lot in the orphanage, but cursive and clean writing weren’t the top priorities. Just know how to read and write were. So, Jack honed this skill not only because he wanted to, but because he had to. In order to appear like he was actually from the Tops, he had to be able to write signatures elegantly.

Has more experience in a relationship - neither do. They’ve only ever pined for one another, or never thought about romantic interests or advancements. So this is their one and only relationship.

Sensitive to subtle changes in partner - both are excellent at this. Yusei is already hyper aware of Jack constantly. He knows when he’s feeling a bit more agitated or when he’s on edge. Jack isn’t as honed as Yusei, but he knows what each facial expression and silent grunt means. He’s studied them for a long time, and honestly, Jack and Yusei never have to use words to communicate how they are feeling.

The one who proposes - Yusei will want to, will plan for it and will be sure its a fanfare (as by Jack’s request). But the world will decide that he’s now allowed to, either making him too busy or stealing his attention away constantly at the perfect moments (or more enemies appearing out of the woodwork to ruin his plans). So, in the end, it will be Jack who sets up some sort of extravagant world around them, getting down on his knee and holding Yusei’s hand with a simple yet beautiful wedding band ready to slip on his finger.

(if you want specifics on part 2, send asks! Otherwise, thanks for reading! You can find a lot of these dynamics in my fics on AO3 <3)

[capricornus-rex]

What You Fear To Lose (2)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by: Anon | Prompt:

Okay so maybe a fic where Cal keeps having nightmares and visions when he meditates of the reader dying and the events leading up to her death. He starts being really protective and the reader tries to reassure him shes fine. But on a mission things start happening that he saw in the visions before the reader dies and gets really on edge. You can decide how it ends, aka reader dying in cals arms to make me cry or him saving her to also make me cry! Sorry if this is too much!!💕

Tags: Near-death! Reader

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of 3

The next morning, Cal woke up realizing that he was late for the morning briefing; he rushed to the room where Cham Syndulla and his fighters are gathered. He finds you standing at the far back, away from the crowd, yet listening intently to the leader.

“Hi,” Cal huffed, gasping for air as quietly as he could. “Did I miss anything?”

“Oh hey, not much. Cham was just getting started,”

You filled him on the minor details before the Twi’lek got to the chunk of the plan; pointing which teams go where, when to strike, and who to avoid. Later, Cham turned to the two Jedi which prompted you to step forward and the people gave way for you.

“This section is the most crucial—and obviously the most well and heavily-guarded—with your weapons and knowledge in better combat, you two are our only chance of ever achieving our objective. You must destroy the main shield generator so we can have a better chance in taking it down with aerial assault. Can I count on you, Jedi Knights?”

There was a pause. You stepped closer to the hologram, your head panned across the very edge up until the blinking red square on the map that indicates the objective. You turned back to Cham and your signature confident smug plastered all over your face.

“Trouble seems to be our only selling point. Why don’t we give the Empire a free trial?”

Cheers filled the conference chamber, brandishing their weapons of all types, and fighters poured out of the mound—a handful rode in their mounts, whilst several continued on foot.

You and Cal were on the vanguard, with a designated assault squadron flanking you for cover.

This was only the beginning phase of the plan. The assault squadron that charged with you traded shots with the baffled Stormtroopers that were standing by and keeping watch at the main entrance. The pair of Jedi assisted the fighters as they faced head on with the melee-wielding Stormtroopers.

“Requesting reinforcements! The main entrance is being overwhelmed by rebels!” a Stormtrooper cried out helplessly before taking a shot from a blaster rifle.

“Go, Jedi! Half of the squad will cover for you once you’re inside!” Cham bellowed.

“Come on!” you beckoned Cal and he ran by your side.

The two of you come across a human barricade of Stormtroopers between the entrance of the stronghold and you. The barricade was spearheaded by a rocket launcher-wielding trooper, he already had a single shot loaded into his weapon, and all he needed was to pull the trigger.

A torpedo comes popping out of the barrel of the weapon. With your combined lightning-fast reflexes, you and Cal worked together—with his Force-Slow, he hindered the slug in mid-air, ripples in the air encased the large bullet, and your ability to manipulate the flow of objects using the Force comes into play: your hands weaved the air in a continuous spinning motion to which the slug motioned in a similar manner until it now faces the opposite direction. Cal then released his focus on the bullet and sends it flying back to the row of Stormtroopers—including the one who shot it.

The entire stronghold is now on high alert, but the two of you eluded the eyes of the Stormtroopers marching across the hallways until you could reach the objective. Neither confidence nor arrogance have a place in this mission, so going in quietly was the best option. The hallway you prowled through was similar to the fortress in Nur, though neither of you sense anything… yet.

“Cham, we’re inside the stronghold. Stormtroopers are coming your way,”

“Copy that. We’ll be ready for them, they haven’t thinned out my numbers yet!”

You and Cal sprinted through the hallway, eager to get to the objective. Along the way, the Stormtroopers have started pouring into your direction and you have no choice but to fight through it.

“Calculating attack success probability.” The Imperial security droid monotonously annunciated as you dodge-rolled its uppercut punch.

This was already the third wave of enemies. The Jedi were beginning to anticipate that the next wave is bound to be more difficult than the last.

“They killed our droid!” a Stormtrooper whimpered.

“Oh no, now they look mad!” another followed.

To the Stormtroopers’ eyes, the blinding beams that are your sabers dazed them, messing up their aim and footing in effect; the Jedi were fluid and lithe with their attacks and general movements that none of the Stormtroopers’ blasters can find its mark.

The arrival of a Purge Trooper in the skirmish somehow became their beacon of relief. Humbled by the presence of the black-clad trooper wielding a massive electrohammer, they’ve technically placed all their hope of survival in their more tenacious, high-tier comrade.

“Two Jedi? Looks like my lucky day!” the Purge Trooper hissed through his helmet.

You made yourselves busy with the inferior Stormtroopers first before setting your sights on the Purge Trooper.

“Puh! They never even stood a chance anyway!” the enemy taunted, striking the floor with the pommel of his weapon.

Cal exchanged glances with you and for a moment, there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. With each of you running on the walls on either side and leapt off at the end with an overhead strike, you took the Purge Trooper by surprise but he was quick-witted enough to deflect both attacks.

“Oh-ho-ho!! A worthy challenge!” he chortled.

The joint stunt you did with Cal somewhat enabled the Purge Trooper rather than intimidate him, now he’s gotten more brutish with his attacks albeit sluggish—which you took advantage of. Cal immediately engaged him as a diversion while you sneak in and exploited an opening, regardless how narrow that window of opportunity might be.

To your surprise, the Purge Trooper deflected your sneak attack with his own gauntlet! A cocky snicker muffled through his helmet and he literally has his hands full with both of you. A hard kick to the shin from Cal caused the brute to lose his footing and it granted you a short time to finally kill the Purge Trooper.

You pulled your saber away from his gauntlet and while he fumbles, you released a triad of slashes across his body, severing his armor in half until an ember-encrusted gash across his body steals away the last breath in his lungs. The two of you stood there with your mouths agape while sucking in air.

“Well then… that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cal blurted.

You threw yourself into Cal’s arms, not even as a response to his remark, but simply out of your heart’s content. You took Cal by surprise, he felt your fingers crumpling the back of his jumpsuit as you cling onto him. You drew the strength to pull away and shyly avert your eyes from him.

“Sorry… I just couldn’t help it… I don’t know what came over—”

He ignored your nervous rambling of reasons, he cupped your cheeks and his lips met yours for the very first time. His thumb caressed the fullness of your cheek as his tongue sneakily dips into your mouth. Of course by instinct, you kiss him back—tenderly sucking the bottom of his lip as you held him by the neck.

Even when he has pulled away, Cal followed up another kiss—but tender and short.

“Now isn’t really the best time but… I just wanted you to know it before shit goes down.”

You breathed out a chuckle, “Oh Cal, I know… I know.”

There was an exchange of awkward but endearing smiles, accompanied by snickers in between.

With your heads back in the game, you find your way to the place where the red blip on the map showed.

“There’s the door!” you squealed.

The blast door starts to open, slowly revealing a tall, hulking figure standing on the other end.

Your path was cut off by the Fifth Brother, a gray, hulking brute whose helmet made him resemble a Zeffonian or the guardian in its tombs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he hummed, brandishing his dual-ended lightsaber.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!?” you snarled back.

Your lightsabers hissed back as you assumed stances. The Fifth Brother remained indifferent.

There appeared to be no room for small talk. The two Jedi faced the Inquisitor head on. Even though the dark warrior was outnumbered, his strength was twice the combination of your strength and Cal’s.

Meanwhile, Cham Syndulla was beginning to get worried why you and Cal were taking so long. He had feared the worst—and it has come true.

The Inquisitor has lured his enemies into the other side of the blast door, leading you into the exact place where you needed to be: the main shield generator chamber. Sitting at the center of the vast room is the pillar coated with electric currents—in other words: your target.

He’s made this duel much trickier. The walkways that lead to the main pillar had no railings, they lead straight into the abyss of the shaft, and it limited your space, thus forcing you to be more tactful with your movements.

“Careful!” Cal cried out.

“I know!”

The Fifth Brother’s fighting tactics was similar to the Ninth Sister’s, however, he moves in a feather-like grace despite his physical appearance—rendering his elusive and dexterous with his attacks. It was too impractical for both of you to keep on charging, it was a given fact that if he saw that strategy, he will just tire both of you out until he emerges victorious.

The Fifth Brother dealt a hit on your shoulder, afterwards he used the Force to push you away from him just so he can target Cal next.

When Cal got a little too close, the Fifth Brother landed his elbow against the boy’s jaw, disorienting him until he staggers backwards. He interrupted his fall by holding onto the edge of the bridge, the Inquisitor stood by the edge and hovered his foot just an inch above Cal’s fingers.

“No, get away from him!” you violently pulled the Inquisitor away from the ledge, making him return his attention to you.

He watched you bring yourself back up to your feet. You winced as you got both feet flat on the floor. The Inquisitor almost gutted you open by the abdomen—luckily, the thick fabric of your jacket only made the strike into a graze but it still burned on your skin. You looked at your arm, deep red blood dribbled and stained your tattered sleeve, and the seared flesh peeked through the slit that the Inquisitor has cut on your clothes.

“Pitiful! Stand up straight, girl!” he roared.

Cal immediately pulled himself up and saw that you weren’t in your best shape, but the Inquisitor had no regard to that and marched right towards you. The Inquisitor’s large hand braced your neck and hoisted you up from the floor, your legs kicked as you struggled for air, your small hands couldn’t loosen his crushing grip around your throat.

“This is the fight I was promised? Pssh, shame.”

Cal’s heart sank the moment the Fifth Brother drove his lightsaber into your abdomen. He didn’t even grant you to dignity to stand up straight as you prepared to face him.

The sensation was excruciating. Your body didn’t know whether to cough to recover from the choke or gasp for oxygen as you felt like you were a balloon that’s been ruptured open and is quickly running out of air.

You found Cal’s eyes, wide and wrought with anguish, and it slowly curdled into a seething rage—a dangerous seething rage that can be weaponized when the tables have turned.

[agallimaufryofoddments]

I’m seeing another copy of the Baccano! DS game novella up for auction and I’m bowled over. If you asked me 3-5 years ago if I thought the novella would ever surface again / whether I, personally, would ever be able to get my hands on it, I would’ve said no way.

(Content under the cut is just me rambling about Baccano! stuff up for auction + a digression on things I’d like to do to celebrate the subscriber increase on /r/Baccano. Put it under cut since it gets long and not everyone needs this taking up space on their dash, haha.)

Though, technically, to be fair... 5-6 years ago I’d never so much as seen or touched the online auction scene and I wouldn’t have known where to start. Did not ever think I’d be the person who’d actually start participating in online auctions. Not in a “I’m not that sort of person” sort of way, more like a “online auctions seem Very Adult (let alone foreign auctions) and would my father kill me if I started dabbling in them (let alone foreign auctions)” sort of way.

Moreover, at the time I never ever thought I’d get my hands on the Baccano! Setting Research Collection...

..and now I own two copies of both the SRC and the timetable DS game novella.

...and another copy of the SRC may or may not be also up for auction, again, whoda thunk.

I am trying to tell myself “no, for God’s sake, spending more money on third copies of the novella and the SRC is not a good idea.”

...On the other hand...

...I’ve been really wanting to plan celebration(s) over on /r/Baccano in honor of our major increase in subscribers since May, and one of the things I think I’d like to do is a giveaway (if not 2-3 giveaways?)--again, talk about things I thought I’d never do in my lifetime. 

I’ve been thinking with COVID-19 that the safest type of times to giveaway would be electronic copies of select light novel volumes and manga volumes, since, you know, mailing precautions (+ address concerns, though maybe a PO box would work? Can you tell I’m inexperienced with Internet giveaways?). It would also be the easiest, for obvious reasons (no physical mailing hassle, just “hey, I’ll send you an email with the gift link” depending on the online retailer.)

But man, how special would a giveaway featuring items like the SRC and the novella be? Well, the novella would only be useful to Japanophones (still want to scan one of my copies), come to think of it. And the 8 _gaiden_ novel installments from the DVDs (which I may or may not have found and bought second copies of). 

Of course, expenses remain a fundamental issue. The SRC as an individual item is not cheap, and importing goods from Japan is not cheap in general. So that’s another point in the digital books’ favor. A one-day giveaway out of my own pocket != cheap, more than one giveaway != cheap.

I’m probably putting way too many eggs in one basket with all my dreaming, here. /r/Baccano hasn’t had a subscribers celebration post before (because, uh, for the majority of its existence it didn’t have many subscribers to speak of), and I’ve never personally designed/handled/hosted celebratory events before, so I shouldn’t try to go all out or anything. I know I’d like to do a demographics survey at minimum. Maybe plant the seeds of recurring threads (like a biweekly Naritaverse thread). Not sure about contents, but a giveaway would be neat.

Wait, the point of this post was just to say, “Wowee, look at these items surfacing all of a sudden.” Definitely not complaining to see them, I’m just bemused by the change in three years. Hell, the two copies of the novella I have? They both appeared on the market at the same time. I still remember doing a double-take at the double-listings.

And, you know, over the past couple of years, I’ve seen more listings of the Premium DJCD online than I expected. I think there’s at least 3 up for bidding right now? I only have one copy (and thus am worried about losing it), so it’s nice to see there’s more out there than I thought.

Still not over the fact I once upon a time saw the Nice Holystone Zippo Lighter (official merch) up for auction. I would have loved to buy it were it not for the $100 USD equivalent price tag, and, more obstructively, the fact Japan forbids exports/imports of lighters (with maybe an exception if the lighters are dismantled? Regardless, my proxy labelled it off=limits).

I think I saw another copy of the magazine issue with Ronny’s origin story up for auction, recently.

The trading cards are definitely among the most elusive “now you see it, now you don’t” items for sure. I was very lucky to spot and grab what cards I could, and all the cards I bought were (understandably) loose-leaf used copies, i.e. not unopened packs. I swear I blinked once and saw an actual box of cards (not even one of the card packs, but a box with packs) up for sale (not auction, used goods site), but it vanished quickly... 

I still kick myself for that. Fingers crossed one of us fans will get our hands on the alleged mini-game(s’) instructions at some point. I’ve tried in the past to crawl various old Japanese blogs/2ch and 5ch forums, etc in the hopes that someone transcribed the instructions online for others’ benefit, but so far, no dice.

Well, this was a very rambling post. Long, at that.

[aion-rsa]

The Knick Is An Ugly, Atmospheric Delight

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Most early photographs look haunted. Perhaps it’s because we view these images with the knowledge that the people inside them are already ghosts. In some early photos the subject had actually already expired at the time of their capture. Photography was expensive and the first and best occasion for many families to pay for a portrait was recently after a loved one died.

But some old timey photos are just ineffably creepy beyond any easy explanation. Consider this snapshot of a surgical operating theater in 1890.

Boston City Hospital operating theater, circa 1890 | A. H. Folsom of Roxbury

The experience of seeing primitive surgeons dressed in angelic white, surrounded by seats of mustachioed men wearing their Sunday best and staring down at a lifeless body is so intensely bizarre. Photos like this are dripping with a grim atmosphere that very few documents or art can really capture. One recent entry into the prestige TV canon, however, did a shockingly good job of recreating that eerie sensation and maintaining it over two full seasons.

Both seasons of Cinemax’s The Knick are now available to stream on HBO Max. Cinemax may no longer be in the original content business, but some of its better shows are finally, thankfully making their way to the WarnerMedia streaming venture. In addition to The Knick other recent Cinemax titles arriving to HBO Max include Banshee and Warrior. All three are superb shows and worth checking out, but let us highlight The Knick in particular as one of recent television history’s most underappreciated gems.

The Knick is quite simply one of the most stylish and atmospheric TV shows ever made. Premiering in 2014, it is set in a fictionalized version of the real Knickerbocker Hospital (a.k.a “The Knick”) which was located in Harlem at the turn of the 19th century. The series begins in 1900 and follows Clive Owen’s Dr. John W. “Thack” Thackery, the chief surgeon at The Knick, as he runs the hospital while barely controlling his addiction to injecting cocaine. Other cast members include André Holland as new assistant chief surgeon Dr. Algernon Edwards, Jeremy Bobb as hospital manager Herman Barrow, and Eve Hewson as nurse Lucy Elkins.

The plotting on The Knick from creators and head writers Jack Amiel & Michael Beglerare is tight and effective. The show capably balances multiple story threads at once, from the series- long arc of Thack’s drug abuse and addiction to season-long arcs about infectious diseases spreading throughout New York to episode-long stories presenting patients simply in need of help. 

But what sets The Knick apart from fellow medical dramas (and just about everything else) is the imagery involved and the tone it invokes. Watching The Knick is like staring at the uncanny oddness of that old operating theater photo until the people within it start to move around and vacuum blood out of a patient’s open abdomen. 

Television has always been seen as a writers’ medium, with the head writer on many shows often serving as de facto “showrunner” and maintaining the visual style. The Knick, however, benefits greatly from the involvement of filmmaker Steven Soderbergh, who produces and directs every episode. Soderbergh’s cameras, era-authentic gaslamp lighting, and superb production design all conspire to create one hell of a visual mood. That’s not even to mention Cliff Martinez’s excellent, synth-heavy score, which one would be forgiven for thinking is the work of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. Just about every scene sounds like a tense mission leading up to a boss battle in an NES game. 

Thack and his fellow doctors Bertram “Bertie” Chickering (Michael Angarano) and Everett Gallinger (Eric Johnson) are fond of calling the Knick their “circus.” And like any circus, The Knick is only as good as its performers. Thankfully the doctors, nurses, administrators are all more than up to the task. 

Despite being only six years old now, The Knick has proven to be quite an acting talent factory. The series was Hewson’s first TV role and the Irish actress is now on her way to modest stardom thanks to roles in The Luminaries and Behind Her Eyes. Jeremy Bobb has since turned up in everything, including Russian Doll, Jessica Jones, and The Outsider. Chris Sullivan, who plays ambulance operator Tom Cleary now plays Toby on This Is Us. And Juliet Rylance portrays Della Street on Perry Mason. 

Meanwhile, Owen is a perfect fit as Thack. The actor seems to relish hiding his handsome movie star features behind sweat, matted hair, and a thin mustache. The effect makes Thack physically resemble some kind of familiar early 1900s pugilist archetype more than a Hollywood leading man. The lifelike performance flows out from there.

Holland as a talented Black surgeon extremely unwelcome in a white hospital is also superb. The actor has racked up award nominations for Selma and Moonlight, but he’s never seemed like a more capable protagonist than he does in The Knick, even if his character isn’t technically the lead. 

It does at times feel as though this is really Edwards’ story. Which makes sense, given that the most attention is frequently paid to him as a perceived trespasser in a white world. Also: it probably goes without saying, but one should know before watching that The Knick pulls absolutely no punches in its depiction of early 20th century racism. It’s admirably honest storytelling about the time period but it’s also just brutal to sit through. One season 2 plotline even involves a central character becoming a full-on eugenicist. 

Thought that understandably all sounds quite bleak, The Knick isn’t just all crushingly real depictions of racism, gore, and nifty camerawork. The show fills an important prestige TV quotient by frequently bringing something new to the table. In the absurdly crowded TV landscape, oftentimes the best thing any show can do is to present something to the audience that they’ve never seen before. The Knick has many such moments…unless you’ve somehow seen someone inject cocaine into Clive Owen’s penis before. The series also has one of the wildest series finale of all time. The finale of season 2 (which wasn’t necessarily a series finale at the time) features one moment that should take even the most veteran drama watcher by surprise. 

The show has some sturdy themes to go along with the stylish flourishes and surprising storytelling. In the series first episode, Thack describes what is simultaneously appealing and devastating about healthcare to him, saying: “God always wins. It’s the longest unbeaten streak in the history of the world.” 

There is nothing that any doctor or surgeon can do to stop death. The best they can hope to do is forestall it’s arrival. Thack and the doctors at the Knick have done the best they can in this mission. When Thack proudly announces that life expectancy has gone from 39 to 47 in the past 20 years, it’s a darkly funny moment to the modern viewer. But any small medical advancement or deeper understanding of the human body always feels like a sincere victory throughout The Knick – particularly because we see the very literal blood, swat, and tears it takes to achieve them. These drug-addicted surgeons and frightened, shivering patients are indeed ghosts from an stained old-timey photo of an operating theater. They’re also people. And that’s something that the show is able to capture in addition to capturing all the terrifying gore of 20th century medicine. 

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Back in September of 2020, Soderbergh revealed that he and producer Barry Jenkins were planning to go through with The Knick season 3, with a pilot script having been written. Given that the Hollywood landscape is particularly turbulent at the moment, who knows if that script will ever find a home. Whether or not The Knick gets a third season, its first two will fit in quite comfortably alongside the greats in its new HBO Max home for years to come. 

The post The Knick Is An Ugly, Atmospheric Delight appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3dEI37H

[roseyserpents]

Delicate

Summary: after you lose everything you made friends with some Serpents, but you worry your new feelings would ruin what you have

Word count: 2,616

Warnings: mentions of sex (that's about it I think)

A/N: This is a song fic with Taylor Swift's Delicate! this is the first fic I've posted in a few months so it might be pretty bad :|

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

You used to be at the top of the social ladder in Riverdale High. You walked the halls with Cheryl Blossom and Reggie Mantle and the like. You were a co-captain of the Riverdale Vixens, proudly wearing the uniform and looking down at the people who could only wish to be like you. To be someone everyone knew and was invited to every party. Someone who could get a boyfriend with the snap of her fingers and get everything she wanted just by saying it. You used to be that person. Until your mom lost her job sending you both tumbling from the richest parts of the Northside to Sunnyside trailer park. It was nothing like your old life where you had a closet the size of the entire trailer and any type of food you had a craving for. Now you had a small dresser and two cabinets that held Cheerios, Graham crackers, and ramen noodles. You traded your high and mighty life at Riverdale High for being the new soft kid from the Northside at Southside High. It was as if you were standing on the top rung of the ladder and someone pushed you off, sending you crumbling down to the bottom not even getting a grip of it. Your reputation in Riverdale was ruined.

That's why you were surprised when on your third day in hell a certain Serpent named Fangs Fogarty decided to take a chance on the Northsider that stook out like a sore thumb and invited you to sit with him and his friends at lunch. Fangs didn't have much of an issue with your past but it took the others about three months for them to consider you worthy of being called a Southsider. One of the people who scoffed and rolled their eyes every time you appeared or spoke was Sweet Pea. But he even came around to you eventually, you becoming part of the group. Part of the Southside.

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

But you can make me a drink

You were finally okay with your new life after a year and a half when the news of Southside high closing traveled around. You were sent a letter in the mail that you would be transferred to Riverdale High effective by Monday of the next week. Riverdale High where everyone who used to adore you would now glare down at you for being one of the transfered students. Riverdale High where you knew there were rumours about what happened to your family and you were had been receiving hate for it. As soon as you read the letter you threw open the door to your trailer and made your way to the Whyte Wyrm, sitting down with a heavy sigh and your face twisted into an expression of rage.

"See the letter?" Sweet Pea asks, appearing in front of you from behind the worn bar counter. You don't reply, simply nodding and drumming your stiff fingers on the wood. "It'll be fine. You already know everyone."

"You don't understand." You say with a humourless smile and a shake of your head, "They're ruthless to anyone with remote connections to the South. I'm not going to be able to walk the halls by myself without getting the shit beaten out of me."

"Serpents wouldn't let that happen." Sweet Pea says referring to you joining four months prior. "That's a promise."

"Might be a hard one to keep." You sigh. "Can you make me a drink?"

As anticipated by you the first two months of being back at Riverdale High was horrid and filled with you getting pushed becoming the students physical and verbal punching bag. They threw words at you about how now you're Southside Serpent scum and no longer one of them. But eventually most of the Northsiders got bored of bullying you all and dropped it, mostly only Bulldogs and Vixens starting feuds. You'd eventually made friends with a few Northside kids you'd never noticed when you went there through Jughead including Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, and Archie Andrews.

"So, I convinced my parents to let me use our lake house for the break." Veronica says as she sits down in the student lounge. "I figured we could all use it as a romantic getaway."

"Sounds great." Betty smiles for her and Jughead.

"You guys have fun with that." You sigh, leaning back in the couch.

"Aren't you going to come Y/n?" Archie asks, everyone turning towards you.

"I would but I don't exactly have someone to go with." You answer.

"Why don't you bring Sweet Pea?" Jughead suggests, raising his hand that rests on Betty's shoulder.

"Sweet and I- we're not like that. We're just friends." You stutter, trying to stop the heat creeping up your necks and onto your cheeks. You didn't want to even admit to yourself you'd grown to like the tall, quick tempered Serpent as more than a friend. The butterflies that flew in your stomach every time you saw your friend scared you because you knew it would change things so you stuffed the feelings way down inside of you and locked them in a box. That nobody was allowed to unlock or even see. Those feelings were off limits and would just turn everything into a mangled knot.

You see Veronica and Betty have a conversation with their eyes before turning towards you. "Bring him, it'll be a friend thing instead of a romantic getaway."

"No, you guys can have your date thing I'll just hang out with the Serpents." You reject, not wanting an extremely awkward week or to ruin theirs.

"Hangout with that Serpent with us." Veronica says with her "I'm not going to stop bugging you until I get my way" look. You sigh and press your lips into a line, looking between the two of your friends before speaking.

"If you guys can convince him to go, I'll go." You finally give immediately regretting it as the two of them look to Jughead.

You'd decided to leave to go to your locker, the others waiting for you to be out of ear shot before talking.

"Y/n and Sweet Pea like each other right?" Archie asks, turning to Jughead.

"Oh yeah definitely." He answers, stuffing a Dorito in his mouth.

"Which means we need them both to come." Veronica adds, quirking a brow as she smiles.

Your stomach flipped at the texts as you realized you just accepted to go on basically a date with Sweet Pea that you were technically forced to do. Still in disbelief the next morning you packed a bag filled with clothes and your basic necessities before walking outside, confused when you see Sweet Pea standing there.

"I was expecting to meet you there." You say, explaining your expression when he quirks a brow at you. He shrugs, hand scratching the back of his neck before falling back to his side.

"I figured I could give you a ride." He says, gesturing to his motorcycle leaning on its stand.

You look to your own propped against your house and look back at his, debating the decisions before walking towards Sweet Pea. He flashes you a small smile before swinging his leg over the seat, you doing the same and wrapping your arms around his torso. He revs the engine before pulling away from the trailer park and makes his way to the lake house using the directions Veronica had sent that morning. You tried to ignore how your heart seemed to stop whenever you remembered how close the two of you were, trying to keep your focus on the passing woods.

After about forty-five minutes you slowed to a stop in front of a house the size of the entire Sunnyside trailer park. The others approached you as you and Sweet Pea gaped at the building.

"You made it!" Veronica smiles, taking back your attention. "You two can set your stuff in your room."

"Room?" You ask, slight panic rising in your chest at the lack of a mention of separate rooms.

"My uh parents only gave me permission to use three so we're all two to a room." She says, not fully convincing you but you say nothing else knowing it would be a pointless conversation as you follow her into the house. "Last door on the right." Veronica says, you nodding and walking up the stairs with Sweet Pea behind you.

"Holy shit." You hear Sweet Pea breathe as you step inside. "This room is as big as four trailers."

There was a queen sized bed on one wall facing a wall made of windows with a door leading to a balcony. Another door sat on the wall next to it leading to a bathroom, the room complete with themed decorations. You both set down your bags and meet the others downstairs, the sun setting below the lake outside as you made small conversation and played a few games.

About an hour after the sun was out of sight you were all sitting in the hot tub with a drink in hand. While the others sat practically on top of one another you and Sweet Pea stayed a safe distance apart sometimes your arms brushing against each others causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You'd easily finished two drinks trying to loosen up and not be so tense when everyone was having fun. You just couldn't stop thinking about every little thing Sweet Pea did from the smile that grazed his lips when the others made jokes to how you could swear he was getting closer to you.

Events seemed to start blurring into each other, you hardly being able to give any of your focus to the others conversation. You hardly realized you were leaning against Sweet Peas side, his arm lazily hung around your shoulders.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." You excuse yourself climbing out of the hot tub.

"Are you okay?" Betty asks, observing your wobbled way of walking.

"I'm fine." You say, waving a hand at her right before slipping, twisting your ankle and landing hard on the stones around the water. You hear multiple people climb out as you groan and turn over on to your back, squinting your eyes.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Sweet Pea asks, helping you sit up as you rub your head.

"Totally." You groan, looking around at the others who give you looks of concern. "I'm probably gonna go uh lie down."

With that you attempt to stand up but wince and lift your leg at the pain from putting pressure on your ankle.

"Need help?" Pea asks, standing up next to you. You nod and he wraps an arm around you, trying to help you walk but you find it awfully hard to hop on one leg in your state. He shakes his head before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you the rest of the way inside. He gets you upstairs, setting you down on the bed but falling over and ending up on top of you, his cheeks burning bright red.

"I uh..." He says, opening and closing his mouth to finish his sentence but no words come out.

Third floor on the West Side, me and you

Handsome, your mansion with a view

Do the girls back home touch you like I do?

Long night, with your hands up in my hair

You look into his eyes, your hand coming up to cup his face before bringing your lips to his. He hesitates a moment before returning the kiss, moving himself fully above you. The once small kiss quickly turns heated, your hands roaming his body. Your lips trail down to his neck, sucking on the soft skin. His hands lace in your hair, tugging on the y/h/c locks occasionally.

That night you did something you'd never imagined would happen between you and Sweet Pea, not even thinking about how many boundaries were bring broken and how you weren't thinking of your delicate friendship.

The next morning when you woke up you immediately felt yourself go hot clammy finding your head on Sweet Peas chest with nothing but the bed sheets separating your skin from his. Your heart tightens in your chest as you back away from him, having to pry his arm from around your waist before retreating to the opposite side of the bed. Sweet Pea groans and opens his eyes as he sits up, the blanket falling off of his upper body as he does so. Your cheeks and ears burn bright red when he looked to you, your eyes holding his for a quick moment before looking down at the mattress.

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it chill that you're in my head?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Is it cool that I said all that

Is it too soon to do this yet?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

"Shit..." He mumbles. "Look I um-"

"It's fine." You cut him off in a small voice. You didn't mean to sound so scared but you were utterly terrified of this ruining everything the two of you had. "I just... I don't want this to change anything."

Sweet Pea nods, meeting your eyes again. You don't know why it hurt you to see regret slightly on his.

"I like you, Sweet Pea." You say, everything in you freezing as you say the thing you had barely admitted to yourself. You don't see any reaction on his face prompting you to rant out of nerves. "I thought that if I just ignored it it'd be fine but I can't get you out of my head. I know that you will probably not want to see me after this and I understand that it's just-"

Sweet Pea cuts you off by cupping your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your mouth went dry and you couldn't get any words out as your eyes scanned his face finding something you couldn't quite identify. One of the things on your mind was how you were practically shattering the delicate relationship you had. You felt like you were ruining everything and you just lost one of your closest friends because you were stupid and couldn't keep your emotions to yourself.

"I'm sorry. For all of this." You manage to say.

"Don't be." He says quietly. Neither of you quite understood the reason for being so quiet, maybe not to scare the other away with anything above a whisper. In seemingly slow motion he leans forwards until his lips are on yours soft and warm in a delicate kiss made of rose petals. Everything between you two was delicate from the way his hand gently held your face to whatever your relationship was now. But something that wasn't delicate was the fireworks you were seeing even though your eyes were closed, the colours exploding between the two of you. You both pull away, not getting very far as your foreheads press against each others.

"You're okay with this?" Sweet Pea asks, his breath lightly hitting your face.

"Of course." You smile before connecting your lips again, finally breaking through that delicate phase of your friendship and into a relationship that you'd always thought would never happen in that bed, a kiss being the bond in front of the sunrise over the lake making the whole moment even more perfect and warm and golden.

Cause I know that it's delicate

Delicate

[chanoyu-to-wa]

Nampō Roku, Book 5 (40, 41):  the Sō [草] Form of the Display of a Kōro [香爐] (Continued¹).

40) [The first sketch².]

    The kaki-ire [書入]³:

① There is no problem about displaying [the utensils in this way] at the beginning [of a gathering], or also afterward⁴.

    In the same way, once the preceding [appreciation of] incense has been finished, the tea utensils should be advanced upward [onto the higher kane]⁵.

② If there is no kyōji-tate [香箸立], or, again, when a pair of kō-bashi [香箸]⁶ is not present on the tray, it is best for the hibashi to be in the shaku-tate.  Or else, [the hibashi] may be [placed] on the go-sun-ita⁷.

41) [The second sketch.]

    The kaki-ire⁸:

③ [The objects on the daisu] may also be displayed like this⁹.

    This [shows] the kōro without its covering¹⁰.

④ These two arrangements were both [drawn] on a single sheet of paper [that was not part of the original book]¹¹.

_________________________

◎ The present entry does not seem to have been part of Jōō’s original collection, since it does not have a title.  According to a note written in the left margin of the page by Tachibana Jitsuzan, the two sketches were drawn on a single sheet of paper* (which, in itself, is very unusual, since the other sketches are distributed one to a page -- even when a single entry requires multiple sketches), which appears to have been placed into the manuscript (the sheet was not physically attached to Jōō’s document).

    The identity of the person responsible for these sketches, and for inserting this page into Jōō’s manuscript, is not known.  Nor is the date when this material was added†.  The most likely guess, however, is that this was perpetrated by someone acting on behalf of the Sen family (since the details of the arrangement conform with their practices). __________ *The writing on the left side of the second sketch also means that this was a separate sheet of paper that was inserted into (Jōō’s) manuscript, while not originally forming part of it.

†One of the most unusual features of these two sketches is that both arrangements employ an object that is referred to as a “jū-kōgō” [重香合] -- curiously, in addition to a taki-gara-ire [炷空入] (a jū-kōgō already contains a compartment in which the burned-out pieces of incense and gin-yō are discarded, making a separate taki-gara-ire superfluous).

    A jū-kōgō consists of a set of three small boxes, and a lid, that stack one upon the other (and is so represented in the sketches):  it somewhat resembles an in-rō [印籠].  The uppermost box is used as a container for the incense (with each variety segregated into its own miniature version of the kō-zutsumi [香包]), the middle one holds several gin-yō [銀葉], and the lowest one (which is either made from ceramic, or of lacquered wood lined with a pewter or brass cup, depending on which of the modern schools is using it) functions as a receptacle for the burned-out kyara (which is fused to the gin-yō on which it was heated).

    The jū-kōgō, as a combined kōgō (traditionally, the pieces of incense and the gin-yō were placed together in the kōgō) and taki-gara-ire, actually seems to be associated with the Sen family’s style of incense appreciation in this particular context (in the incense schools, while a jū-kōgō is used in specific incense guessing games, it does not seem to have been used when the goal was simply the appreciation of several varieties of kyara incense, as was the focus of the original Shino family’s practice).  The Senke style is best known to people today through its inclusion in the Senke shichi-ji shiki [千家七事式] (jointly introduced by Jōshin-sai Sōsa [如心齋宗左; 1706 ~ 1751] and Itō Sōshitsu [一燈宗室; 1719 ~ 1771], this collection of highly-regimented rituals first appeared around the middle of the eighteenth century):  this is also true of the other variations introduced in these sketches (such as using the hibashi in place of the koji [火筋] or kyōji [香筋], and the temae habōki in place of the ko-hane that is traditionally used to clean the kōro).

    While the Sen family’s method of incense appreciation was probably standardized into something resembling its present form a century or so earlier (most likely by Kōshin Sōsa [江岑宗左; 1613 ~ 1672]), the implication still is that this page was surreptitiously inserted into the manuscript of Book Five as yet another attempt to associate the Sen family’s practices with the way things were done in the classical period.

    All of that having been said, it is unclear why, in addition to the jū-kōgō, a separate taki-gara-ire would also be needed (other than to make these two sketches superficially resemble the authentic illustrations that precede and follow them -- since the jū-kōgō always includes a compartment that functions as a taki-gara-ire) -- though this detail amplifies the likelihood that the sketches are spurious.

¹Presumably.  As mentioned above, the page containing these two sketches appears to have been inserted into Jōō’s preexisting manuscript by a third party.  While, at first glance, it appears to continue on from the previous entry (and is presumed to do so, by Tanaka Senshō*), certain details† show that it is, in fact, unrelated to that entry (and, most likely, inserted here simply because the arrangements superficially resemble that shown in entry 39).

    As mentioned above, this entry lacks its own title. ___________ *He argues that these are the two other arrangements mentioned in the title of the previous entry (part 39).

†Such as the fact that while the arrangement shown in entry 39 is explicitly said to be for situations where the appreciation of incense will precede any part of the tea-related activities, such as the sumi-temae, it is mentioned that the two sketches being included here can be used at any time.  This latter comment, while typical of Edo period practices, conflicts with the linearly historical focus of Jōō’s intrinsic design:  Jōō appears to have been intent on documenting the history of chanoyu through the evolution of its temae, with the purpose being to show where the precedents for his own arrangements (which make up most of the second part of the book) can be found.

²There are, in fact, no titles associated with either of the sketches on this kiri-kami [切紙], or with the page as a whole.

    I added the designations of “first sketch” and “second sketch” for the sake of clarity.

³The Japanese texts of the kaki-ire found on the first sketch read:

① kore ha hajime ni te mo nochi ni te mo kurushi-karazu kazari nari, onajiku ha hatsu ni kō sumite, cha-gu kuri-ageru kayoi nari

[コレハ始ニテモ後ニテモ不苦カサリ也、同シクハ初ニ香スミテ、茶具クリ上ルカヨキ也];

② kyōji-tate naku, mata ha bon naka ni kō-bashi naki toki ha, shaku-tate no hibashi aru-beshi, mata go-sun-ita ni arite mo yoshi

[キヤウシ立ナク、又ハ盆中ニ香ハシナキトキハ、杓立ノ火ハシアルヘシ、又五寸板ニアリテモヨシ].

⁴Kore ha hajime ni te mo nochi ni te mo kurushi-karazu kazari nari [コレハ始ニテモ後ニテモ不苦カサリ也].

    “This is also at the beginning, and also afterward -- without any problem.”

    In other words, the author is saying that the daisu may be arranged in this manner regardless of whether incense will precede the service of tea*, or whether it will come at the end of the goza.

    If the kazari is done exactly as shown when tea will precede the appreciation of incense, this means that the tea container will remain above the furo until the goza.  This would have struck the chajin of Jōō’s and Rikyū’s period as being highly inappropriate, since it would potentially subject the tea in the chaire to the heat rising from the furo, spoiling it.

    In the previous entry, however, the fact that the natsume was in the same place would have no real consequences, since the only fire in the furo would be the shita-bi†, and that would not be enough to warm the kama much more than to evaporate the water from the outside†. __________ *The advocacy of placing the hibashi in the shaku-tate suggests that appreciating incense will take place at the end of the sumi-temae, instead of the host putting the taki-mono into the furo.  This accords with the Sen family’s preferred method.

†Consisting of three gitchō [毬杖].  Even over an extended period of time, such a small fire could only make the kama slightly warm to the touch -- before burning out.

‡The same argument could also be made when the appreciation of incense would take place at the end of the sumi-temae.  It is when the things on the ten-ita must remain in that way throughout the shoza and naka-dachi that problems could arise -- since, once the kama begins to boil, it necessarily heats the ten-ita, and that would be damaging to the tea.  (Of course, by the Edo period, tea shops were selling pre-ground matcha, which would already have degraded to a large extent by the time it came into the customer’s hands, making the damage caused by extraneous heating less apparent to host and guests.)

⁵Onajiku ha hatsu ni kō sumite, cha-gu kuri-ageru kayoi nari [同シクハ初ニ香スミテ、茶具クリ上ルカヨキ也].

    “Likewise, when the [appreciation of] incense that precedes [the service of tea] is finished, the tea utensils should be moved upward.”

    That is, once the appreciation of incense is finished, the incense tray should be removed (either to the shelf below the chigai-dana, or to the katte).  Then, the chaire and dai-temmoku should be moved toward the right -- which, technically, is the higher seat* (though the reason for this is no longer obvious). ___________ *This is because, in the original orientation of the room, the guests were seated on the host’s left, while the katte was located on his right.  As a result, moving things toward the right moved them farther away from the guests (and so protected them from any dust that the guests movements might stir up, as well as making them physically less accessible).

    The modern explanation (that moving them toward the right moves them closer to the tokonoma) is, at best, forced.

⁶Kō-bashi [香ハシ = 香箸] means the ebony chopsticks used to handle the pieces of kyara incense wood. While the pronunciation kō-bashi is clearly indicated by the text (since hashi [= bashi] is written in katakana), in incense circles the word is pronounced kyō-ji*.  As an experienced practitioner of kōdō [香道], Jōō would certainly have been familiar with such details†.

    However, this indicates that the person who added this sketch was unfamiliar with the correct, classical usage‡. __________ *This is true whether it is written kyōji [香筋], or kyōji [香箸].

†As we have also seen in chanoyu, such special pronunciations were concocted primarily as a way to distinguish the initiated from those who had not been invited into the inner circle of devotees.

‡The difference in language and idioms suggest that the notes were already present on this piece of paper when it was inserted into Jōō’s collection -- not only is the language of the Edo period, but it seems to be of a different form (dialect?) from the usual kaki-ire that were written by the Enkaku-ji group of scholars (who were primarily using a Kyūshū dialect).

⁷Kyōji-tate naku, mata ha bon naka ni kō-bashi naki toki ha, shaku-tate no hi-bashi aru-beshi, mata go-sun-ita ni arite mo yoshi [キヤウシ立ナク、又ハ盆中ニ香ハシナキトキハ、杓立ノ火ハシアルヘシ、又五寸板ニアリテモヨシ].

     “If there is no kyōji-tate, or, again, on occasions when, within the tray, there are no kō-bashi, it is best if the hibashi are in the shaku-tate.  Or, again, it is good if they are on the go-sun-ita.”

     The abbreviation “shaku-tate” [杓立] is a uniquely Edo period usage, most usually associated with the Sen families.  (Rikyū, for example, always used hishaku-tate.)

     This kaki-ire seems to contradict the previous entry, where it was said that the hibashi (if made of sawari, bronze, silver, or some other refined metal) should be placed on the left side of the ji-ita (so as to avoid touching the tea-related utensils at the time when incense is being appreciated).  The idea (at least in so far as the Shino family was concerned) was to keep incense-related things completely separate from the things that would be used for the service of tea, even when they were occupying the daisu at the same time.

     Persons devoted to incense generally feel that metal chopsticks should not come into contact with the pieces of incense (since they can leave a metallic smell)*.  This is why ebony chopsticks (or ones made of ivory, which, likewise, does not impart any smell) were preferred.  Using the metal chopsticks to handle the pieces of kyara would strike a devotee as lacking in respect -- not only to the incense, but to the guests as well.

     Such violations of propriety were considered “wabi” by the followers of Sōtan's school -- though, in that, they only demonstrate that they were as ignorant of the meaning of wabi as they were of many other things that were supposed to have come down to them from Jōō and Rikyū.

     Also, while Rikyū placed the hibashi together, with their handles extending toward the right (and so toward the mizusashi), Sōtan and his followers (rather perversely) placed one on either side of the hishaku†, making it difficult to take both of them out simultaneously without disorienting the hishaku. ___________ *Modern people have absolutely no idea how costly -- and so, precious -- imported kyara was in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.  Far greater than a comparable weight of gold bullion; and, of course, the pieces cut from the original purchase would be destroyed when they were burned.

    In the present day, people in Japan can go to Kyūkyodō [鳩居堂], or some such store, and buy a small piece of kyara for several thousand yen -- a fragment large enough to be divided into perhaps 10 pieces, each suitable for burning.

    In Jōō’s and Rikyū’s day, however, one had to go to an auction and bid on a substantially larger piece, and such things were luxury items in the extreme -- so much so that they usually became intimately associated with the man who owned them, since it was unlikely that any given individual would own more than one or two varieties.  Then, as now, newly imported pieces were tested and, usually, associated with one of the varieties selected in ancient times, and so classified accordingly. (I remember when I first went to Kyōto, and visiting a utensil shop on the corner next to the Daitoku-ji.  After speaking with him for several hours, the old man who owned the shop invited me up to the second floor see some of his personal treasures, among which was a small box containing 5 or 10 fragments of kyara, which he said were the most precious things he owned.  These had been handed down in his family for several hundred years, and small pieces had been cut off and used -- reverently -- ever so often, when entertaining especially important guests, guests who would be able to appreciate them.  Such behavior is probably unknown today.)

†The fact that the hibashi are routinely shown arranged in this way in the Nampō Roku shows how pervasive Sōtan’s style of chanoyu had become by Tachibana Jitsuzan’s day.

⁸The kaki-ire written on the second of the two sketches read:

③ kaku no gotoki mo kazaru, kore ha hadaka kōro nari

[如此モカサル、コレハハダカ香爐也];

④ kō ni kazari kiri-kami ichi-mai nari

[香ニ飾切紙一枚也].

⁹Kaku no gotoki mo kazaru [如此モカサル].

    “Also like this [the things on the daisu may be] arranged.”

¹⁰Kore ha hadaka kōro nari [コレハハダカ香爐也].

    “This is a naked kōro.”

    That is, a kōro displayed without its shifuku, or lid.

¹¹Kono ni-kazari kiri-kami ichi-mai nari [此ニ飾切紙一枚也].

    “These two arrangements are [drawn on] one separate leaf of paper.”

    Kiri-kami ichi-mai [切紙一枚] means a single, separate piece of paper -- that  was not part of Jōō’s original collection of sketches*, but was inserted later.  For two sketches to appear on the same page is very unusual for the Nampō Roku -- which is why Jitsuzan felt it was worthy of being commented upon.

    This statement does not seem to be found in the Enkaku-ji manuscript (at least as it was published in the Sadō ko-ten zen-shu [茶道古典全集]) -- which does not make it suspect; but, rather, show that Jitsuzan was intent on normalizing things that were not, in fact, part of the original collection of teachings, when preparing his presentation version of the text.

    The sense of inviolability that pervades everything found in the Nampō Roku (ultimately, even to the kaki-ire that are known to have been added after Jitsuzan presented his copy to the Enkaku-ji) arose from this kind of attitude -- making it ever more difficult to discuss the contents of the Nampō Roku from the perspective of Jōō’s and Rikyū’s chanoyu.

    This kaki-ire was added by Tachibana Jitsuzan himself. ___________ *The original collection seems to have been bound into a notebook, which seems to have been Jōō‘s way of insuring the integrity of the collection -- whether that consisted of sketches or text.

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◎  Analysis of the Arrangement.

    The two sketches seem to feature the two trays most closely associated with the machi-shū chajin -- the naka maru-bon [中丸盆] and the naka hō-bon [中方盆].

    The first sketch features the former.

    The objects arranged on the naka-maru-bon are (from right to left), the jū-kōgō, a meibutsu kōro (this is why it is tied in its shifuku), and a taki-gara-ire*, with the pair of kyōji (ebony chopsticks used to handle the incense) placed in front.  The kōro is displayed, as a mine-suri [峰摺り] on the first kane to the right of the central kane.

    Because the habōki is displayed on the go-sun-ita, it seems necessary to display the hibashi in the shaku-tate -- though both of these reflect Edo period modifications that arose with the Sen family.

    According to the text, after the appreciation of incense has been finished (and the incense tray removed from the room), the chaire and dai-temmoku should be moved toward the right.

    The second sketch shows the arrangement of the incense utensils on the naka hō-bon.

    In this sketch, only the incense tray is displayed on the ten-ita.

    The things on the tray are (from the right) the jū-kōgō, kyōji-tate, hadaka kōro (that is, a kōro displayed without its lid or shifuku), and a taki-gara-ire, with the ko-hane [小羽] (the special miniature habōki used to clean the incense burner) arranged in front.  Notice that the kōro overlaps the central kane by one-third†.

    In this case, if the service of tea will follow the appreciation of incense, the chaire (and perhaps the dai-temmoku as well) will be brought out and arranged on the ten-ita immediately after the incense tray has been removed from the room. ___________ *While the objects on the tray are not named in the sketch that is found in the Enkaku-ji (perhaps for good reason), in Shibayama Fugen’s teihon [底本] they are clearly marked as being a jū-kōgō (on the right) and taki-gara-ire (on the left side of the kōro).

†Tanaka Senshō adds that the jū-kōgō should also come into contact with a kane.  Though he also adds that (contrary to what is shown in the sketches) the ko-hane should rest in front of the taki-gara-ire and the kōro -- and that the tray should be a nagabon (even though even the smallest of the nagabon that were in used during the early sixteenth century would be larger than what is shown).  Since he is the only commentator to mention these things, and since they are not substantiated by any of the versions of the sketch, it might be good to take these assertions with a grain of salt.