#╭ ⁞ ❏. narrations / abraham lincoln.

[historiavn]

@frxncaise sent: “ wait… hold on a second, what year is it? “

ABRAHAM WAS READY TO DISMISS THIS AS NAUGHT BUT A particularly strange incident when the strange woman asked a question that sent shivers down his spine. He paused, his haunted gray gaze flickering upward to meet Angélique’s own.

“…it is currently eighteen-sixty-one.” Abraham responded, his voice HESITANT amidst the curious uncertainty which this question provoked. “Why do you ask?”

[tqyzilla96]

I would just like to show my silly steam review of TSPUD (yes, my steam account is Abraham Lincoln. I think it's absolutely hilarious)

[historiavn]

TRAVELING TO FRANCE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CIVIL WAR was a most RISKY ENDEAVOR indeed, and although his cabinet was JUSTIFIABLY INCENSED by his decision, Abraham cannot help but feel as though his decision was the RIGHT CHOICE. The Union didn’t necessarily NEED foreign allies to win the war at all — it was just that the mere IDEA of his foes gaining any semblance of support from other nations utterly chills him to the brittle old bone.

“Your majesty.” Abraham says softly, while he sinks into a low, respectful bow. There he stays for a few moments, and he does not speak again until he straightens his spine. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Christ, everything feels so FORMAL; Mr. Lincoln is all too aware of the fact that he sticks out here like a sore thumb. “Thank you for granting me a diplomatic audience.”

╰► @sovereignofthefrenchpeople

@historiavn Starter for Abraham Lincoln

Louis XVI sat in a lavishly furnished room, the air heavy with anticipation as he waited for the arrival of Abraham Lincoln. He had always been curious about the man, so unlike the monarchs he knew, yet undeniably possessing a strength of will that mirrored his own, albeit from a very different position of power. His fingers lightly brushed the golden embroidery on the sleeve of his royal coat, the fabric smooth and rich against his skin. His mind buzzed with thoughts of their coming conversation—what could they possibly have in common?

[historiavn]

@araneorum sent “   please   stay  .   i   need   you   more   than   you   think  .   ” / holly to abraham !

                    ABRAHAM HAD RISEN TO HIS FEET TO LEAVE when Holly’s request leaves him frozen in his tracks. CONFUSION flickers across his rugged features, so utterly BAFFLED is he by the bizarre notion that he is needed by someone. Slowly but surely, the young attorney turns around, letting go of the doorknob whilst he takes a hesitant step towards Holly.

❛   Well … ❜ He trails off, biting his lip before speaking once more. ❛ Mr. Stuart is probably expectin’ me to head back to the law firm to close up shop for the evenin’, but I s’pose I can stay here for a while longer.   ❜ Ever obedient to those he loved most, Abraham approaches Holly, and then settled down at her side once more. Hesitantly, he reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently in an effort to provide comfort. ❛  Is … uh … is everything okay? ❜

[historiavn]

@apurekindness liked this post for a starter.

“I’ve got blood on my name.”

[wrishwrosh]

hey, i find your posts about historical fiction pretty interesting, do you have any recs?

anon this is the most beautiful and validating ask i have ever received. absolutely of COURSE I have recs. not gonna be a lot of deep cuts on this list but i love all of these books and occasionally books do receive awards and acclaim because they are good. in no particular order:

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. of course i gotta start with the og. it’s 40 million pages on the tudor court and the english reformation and it will fundamentally change you as a person and a reader

(sub rec: the giant, o’brien by hilary mantel. in many ways a much shorter thematic companion to the cromwell trilogy imo. about stories and death and embodiment and the historical record and 18th century ireland. if you loved the trilogy, read this to experience hils playing with her own theories about historical fiction. if you are intimidated by the trilogy, read this first to get a taste of her prose style and her approach to the genre. either way please read all four novels ok thanks)

lincoln in the bardo by george saunders. the book that got me back into historical fiction as an adult. american history as narrated by a bunch of weird ghosts and abraham lincoln. chaotic and lovely and morbid.

the everlasting by katy simpson smith. rome through the ages as seen by a medici princess, a gay death-obsessed monk, and an early christian martyr. really historically grounded writing about religion and power, and also narrated with interjections from god’s ex boyfriend satan. smith is a trained historian and her prose slaps

(sub rec: free men by katy simpson smith. only a sub rec bc i read it a long time ago and my memory of it is imperfect but i loved it in 2017ish. about three men in the woods in the post revolutionary american south and by virtue of being about masculinity is actually about women. smith did her phd in antebellum southern femininity and motherhood iirc so this book is LOCKED IN to those perspectives)

a mercy by toni morrison. explores the dissolution of a household in 17th century new york. very different place and time than a lot of morrison’s bigger novels but just as mean and beautiful

(sub rec: beloved by toni morrison. a sub rec bc im pretty sure everyone has already read beloved but perhaps consider reading it again? histfic ghost story abt how the past is always here and will never go away and loves you and hates you and is trying to kill you)

an artist of the floating world by kazuo ishiguro. my bestie sir kazuo likes to explore the past through characters who, for one reason or another (amnesia, dementia, being a little baby robot who was just born yesterday, etc), are unable to fully comprehend their surroundings. this one is about post-wwii japan as understood by an elderly supporter of the imperial regime

(sub rec: remains of the day by kazuo ishiguro. same conceit as above except this time the elderly collaborator is incapable of reckoning with the slow collapse of the system that sheltered him due to britishness.)

the pull of the stars by emma donoghue. donoghue is a strong researcher and all of her novels are super grounded in their place and time without getting so caught up in it they turn into textbooks. i picked this one bc it is a wwi lesbian love story about childbirth that made me cry so hard i almost threw up on a plane but i recommend all her histfic published after 2010. before that she was still finding her stride.

days without end by sebastian barry. this one is hard to read and to rec bc it is about the us army’s policy of genocide against native americans in the 19th century west as told by an irish cavalry soldier. it is grim and violent and miserable and also so beautiful it makes me cry about every three pages. first time i read it i was genuinely inconsolable for two days afterwards.

this post is long as hell so HONORABLE MENTIONS: the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay by michael chabon, the western wind by samantha harvey, golden hill by frances spufford, barkskins by annie proulx, postcards by annie proulx, most things annie proulx has written but i feel like i talk about her too much, the view from castle rock by alice munro, the name of the rose by umberto eco, tracks by louise erdrich

[historiavn]

ABRAHAM’S HEART FEELS LIKE IT’S ON FIRE as RIGHTEOUS ANGER courses through his veins. His jaw is CLENCHED, and his towering form TREMBLES with the sheer force of unchecked emotion. Relaxing is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE at the present moment, and it’s all because of the seemingly innocent newspaper spread out upon his wooden desk.

Stephen Douglas. Of COURSE it’s his LONGTIME FOE who’s responsible for this particular legislation, but this is only a MINOR ASPECT of why today’s newspaper makes Abraham so damn angry. His hand curls into a fist and his gray gaze is GLARING at the newspaper as though it’s wronged him personally when Henry’s familiar voice interrupts his ruminations.

“ Relax, eh? ” Abraham repeats, and a HOLLOW chuckle escapes his lips while he shakes his head. “ Look, Henry — I know ya don’t like payin’ much attention to politics, but surely even YOU are aware of the danger posed by this godforsaken Nebraska Bill? The implications it has … good god, they’re horrifying. ”

╰► @fragmcntdstars

@historiavn ( abraham lincoln ) sent ❛ What do you want me to do? ❜

         in  his  many  years  on  earth  ,  he  had  never  liked  those  questions  .   they  held  a  certain  air  to  them  ,  &&  they  were  difficult  to  take  seriously  .   for  all  intents  &&  purposes  ,  henry  saw  abe  as  a  friend  .   was  he  the  most  loyal  friend  ?   no  ,  but  henry  also  wasn't  the  most  loyal  friend  in  return  .   after  all  ,  enlisting  someone  in  the  ongoing  fight  between  himself  &&  the  vampire  who  turned  him  was  the  driving  factor  in  a  lot  of  things  that  he  did  .   so  ,  he  didn't  really  know  how  to  be  a  good  friend  ,  but  he  was  going  to  try  .   okay  ,  he  was  willing  to  try  to  be  the  friend  that  abe  deserved  .   he  didn't  know  the  world  of  politics  ,  although  that  was  done  on  purpose  (  at  least  ,  to  an  extent )  ,  but  he  felt  that  having  someone  in  his  corner  was  the  best  thing  for  abe  .

         “  i  want  you  to  relax  ,  for  one  ,  ”  henry  finally  says  ,  settling  on  one  of  the  more  obvious  things  .   “  you  are  a  second  away  from  grinding  your  teeth  &&  the  muscle  near  your  jaw  is  twitching  .  ”

        shit  you  sound  like  her  ,  he  reminds  himself  ,  the  scolding  a  little  more  than  he  might  have  intended  .   simply  ,  he  was  trying  to  make  sure  that  his  friend  was  comfortable  .   okay  ,  that  was  only  partly  true  .   he  wanted  to  make  sure  that  abe  was  okay  &&  wasn't  at  any  risk  to  ruin  the  plan  that  he'd  constructed  .   perhaps  it  wasn't  the  most  carefully  constructed  plan  ,  but  the  plan  itself  was  one  that  was  hastily  thrown  together  .   “  can't  you  relax  ?  ”

[kimtiny]

I have started to read Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter each day after work and so far here are some of my thoughts;

1. Teenage Abraham Lincoln is EMO ASF

2. The movie is not a good adaptation but I still like the way it tells the story

3. Since I watched the movie first I was expecting Will Johnson to appear any second but he didn't bc he's an original character from the movie. I got Torieled.. :(

4. I didn't like Henry in the movie and I still find him an asshole in the book (at least from the narrator pov)

5. Talking of the Narrator, I was super involved in his life for no reason I forgot what the book actually was about for a second.

6. This book is gore btw, not like it describes terrible acts of torture (yet) but the actions are told in such a gruesome way I just can imagine the scene.

7. The Narrator mentioned there was books about Lincoln's sexuality... erm... Speedcoln maybe?? Gay Lincoln please!!!!

[emeraldspiral]

So from what I understand, the initial pitch for Invader Zim was that the main source of comedy was Zim thinking posing as an elementary school student was the best use of his time as a spy and making leaps of logic based on his lack of cultural knowledge. And we did certainly see stuff like that happen in the show, but I think over time there was a shift to more episodes focusing on the Zim/Dib rivalry or things going on in space that didn’t feature the skool setting at all or didn’t revolve around cultural misunderstandings to drive the plot. IDK if they did more of that in the comics, but here’s some ideas I feel were missed opportunities. Not including anything obvious like “skool dance” episode, or “forced to work with Dib on a project”.

1 - An episode that’s just Zim and Dib narrating short stories they wrote for a creative writing assignment. It might be low-hanging fruit for them to both write the same story of a real incident between them from either of their perspectives, or a self-insert wish-fulfillment fantasy about defeating one another. I kinda like the idea of Dib writing the kind of story he himself would enjoy, like a noir-style detective story with a supernatural twist or gothic horror ghost story. Zim would just copy a story told to him by GIR, which itself is a mangled retelling of something that happened on TV that neither of them actually understand, but no matter how ridiculous and nonsensical the plot was he’d read it like it was Shakespeare.

2 - Similarly, an episode that’s just Zim giving an oral presentation on a historical figure or event, but he gets a ton of stuff wrong due to misinterpretation, or mixing up factual sources with like, a historical fantasy. Like if he read TF2 lore and told the class that stairs were invented by Abraham Lincoln.

3 - Zim gets an exam/report card back and finds out he’s performing poorly, which makes him question whether he’s learned anything at all from all the time he’s spent gathering intel. He decides to put his plans for conquest on hold to spend more time studying, except he’s not studying anything actually assigned by the skool and nothing he learns is on his next test or useful for conquering the humans.

4 - Alternatively, Zim is warned that because of all his absences and poor performance he’s at risk of being expelled. Dib mocks him for it at the first, but then decides he’d rather not have to worry about what Zim’s getting up to all day while he’s stuck in class, so he decides to help Zim break into the server room for the skool’s computer system so they can change his report card, but because this is Zimworld the security system is ridiculously over-the-top and the stakes are a like a Die Hard movie.

5 - The skool needs a team to represent for an academic decathlon. Zim signs up because he wants to show off his superior intellect and Dib joins the team to keep an eye on him (and prove his superior intellect). Zim and Dib are the math and science experts while their other teammates specialize in different subjects but everyone except Zim at least knows enough about the other subjects to mostly get the answers right if they’re forced to answer something outside their specialty. Unfortunately all the questions Zim and Dib know the answers to go to their less science-minded teammates and they get stuck with all the insane questions about skinning moose and other lectures from Ms. Bitters that they didn’t pay attention to.

Either that, or they keep getting quizzed about pop culture trivia they don’t know because they don’t keep up with mainstream television. Zim ends up getting a question right that wins the game however because he remembered it from some insufferable show GIR watches constantly and everyone treats him like a fucking genius for it. Dib meanwhile is treated like an idiot for getting all the stupid pop-culture questions wrong.

6 - The class has to read some classic lit out loud and Zim’s over-the-top dramatic narration leads to him being asked to audition for the skool play. Zim scores the lead role and gets way too into method acting. To the point where Dib can’t even tell if he legitimately thinks he’s the character or if he’s just doing it to mess with him.

7 - Zim joins a skool club and quickly usurps the club’s leadership and rules over the other members with an iron fist, twisting it from its original purpose into just being a club dedicated to serving his whims/messing with Dib. It all falls apart for some stupid reason like one member leaving and forcing the club to dissolve because it didn’t have enough members or some forms not being filled out correctly or budget issues forcing a bunch of clubs to shut down. Meanwhile, Dib tries to start a paranormal club but can’t get any members and gets kicked out of every other club he joins for trying to steer it away from whatever its original purpose was to make it about the paranormal.

8 - Baseball/team sports episode. Zim and Dib are both actually pretty decent so their team begrudgingly puts up with them. They let their rivalry get in the way at first and don’t pay any attention to the skool’s rival team talking trash about their skool. Even when it turns into an 80s cliche where the skool will actually be closed if they don’t win the game they don’t care because it is a shit skool and if it closes they’ll just go somewhere else. It’s only when one of the rival team members interrupts Zim and Dib in the middle of their own little pissing contest that they finally get their act together and start strategizing with the rest of their team. They win and finally get a taste of what it’s like to be appreciated momentarily for carrying the team until everyone else finds out their shitty skool is staying open because of them.

9 - Some Yu-Gi-Oh/Magic-type card game becomes really popular and Zim decides to get into it to blend in and find a way to exploit it to gain power over the humans. Dib naturally gets in on it too and they get way too serious about it. It either becomes an over-the-top parody of Yu-Gi-Oh and its hyper-realistic holograms and battle arenas that turn card games into genuine life-threatening experiences for participants and audiences alike, or it satirizes the satanic panic by having some kind of reveal that all the cards are actually possessed by real supernatural spirits and the games are part of some nefarious third party antagonist’s plot to overrun the world with demons or something.

[crepes-suzette-373]

Another conspiracy theory posting.

It has been mentioned that the Nerona in Imu's name might be a reference to Nero. Or perhaps specifically, a painting titled "Pochodnie Nerona", which depicts Christian martyrdom.

Now, if this is correct and not coincidence, this specifically makes Jupiter's naming choice very very strange, because his name strongly alludes to Saint Peter the Apostle.

Jupiter's full name was Shepherd Juu Peter. Peter is Peter directly. The "juu" is written in kanji like this: 十. Literally it means the number 10, but it's also the shape of the cross. Cross-shaped objects, including the Christian cross, is referred to in Japanese as "juumonji", or "the shape of the kanji juu".

The Bible narrated that Jesus left a personal message to Peter alone. The wording may vary depending of the translation, but one of the forms used says "shepherd My sheep".

Apostle Peter was, according to tradition, executed by the order of Nero.

I've seen some comments in the fandom suggesting that someone among the Gorousei might actually be a turncoat, and I'm not sure what the existing theories were, but I wonder if this means that Jupiter is the one.

Certainly there's a few things about him that makes it feel like he's the odd man out. His beast form is not a "traditional Asian folklore beast", but a Western one. Possibly a relatively modern invention, even, since I wasn't able to find anything like a "sandworm" in older mythology. Far as I can tell, this was based on or adopted from Dune's sandworms.

The other Gorousei's faces were very very similar to their real life inspirations. Venus being based on Gandhi and Mercury based on Gorbachev is so dead-obvious it's not even funny. Jupiter's supposed "reference" was Abraham Lincoln, but unlike the other 4, the resemblance is not intuitive. I'm even personally of the opinion he doesn't look like Lincoln at all. There is the entire possibility he's not actually based on a real person at all, and if so, that's singling him out as different again.

And now for the wild guess that is mostly based on conjecture. I previously wrote that by the zodiac alignment, Jupiter's "beast" form should have been a dragon. You can stretch it and suppose that "sandworm" maybe counts as a "dragon" somehow (because wyrm and worm sounds similar), but unlike the other 4 this is not really intuitive either.

I have posted a couple of times saying that I have this theory that maybe before the World Noble Tenryuubito established themselves, there were a race of "real dragons" who may have lived on Red Line alongside the Lunarians. Maybe Jupiter's strange naming and his zodiac alignment hinted that he is actually a real dragon, and he's been hiding his true form to avoid being hunted.

It's not yet really explained why Lunarians are hunted, but it's not entirely off base to make a conjecture that: 1) there could be other ancient races on the red Line, and 2) they might have been hunted just like the Lunarians were. In which case, hiding one's identity is necessary.

Not to mention the strange scar he has on his neck. Sure, Saturn has a scar too, but the scar being on his neck really makes me wonder. I half-jokingly theorised that maybe he was the dragon Ryuuma cut down all those years ago.

The wording says "cut down" 斬り捨て. While this tends to imply "kill", this does not actually directly mean kill. It's just slashing the opponent with a critical blow. This still leaves the slimmest chance of the opponent being able to survive the strike.

The direction of the diagonal scar also is consistent with a standard samurai slash. Or any right-handed sword slash, even, since Zoro's scar from Mihawk also goes the same direction. I'm not entirely serious with this theory, but it's not impossible.

[historiavn]

“The Fourth is what we Americans call the anniversary of our declaring independence from England. Unfortunately, some folks get a little bit … heavy handed with the celebrations.”

╰► @wolfvirago

"... What's the Fourth and why are there scary explosions everywhere?"

Local awoo is confused.

[rmstitanics]

WEBWEAVE: With Malice Toward None

WITH MALICE TOWARD NONE is a new musical currently in development that recontextualizes the well-known narrative of Abraham Lincoln’s presidency by focusing on his struggle with mental health. Narrated by the Robert Todd Lincoln of 1922, this musical is a complex commentary on the issues of mental health, leadership, and historical memory.

FEATURING QUOTATIONS AND IMAGES PULLED FROM Tumblr, Pinterest, And There Was Light: Abraham Lincoln and the American Struggle (Jon Meacham), Joshua Wolf Shenk, The History Channel’s Abraham Lincoln docuseries, The Psychic Life of Abraham Lincoln (Susan B. Martinez).

[theclassclone]

Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody... Girls?

Chapter 8

Word Count: 3,591 TW: Canon-typical Master List || Previous || Next

“Previously on a very special Clone High: Joan accidentally discovered Harriet and Frida’s juiciest secret and revealed her own,” CJ narrated. “Let’s see what the hell spawn are up to now.” Abe inhaled deeply. “CJ, we talked about this.” “No, we didn’t.”

Harriet kicked her feet and propped herself back up on her elbows. She rested her palms against her cheeks and stared at CJ with a giddy expression; her eyes sparkled with the excitement of what CJ’s deepest, darkest secret is. Frida sat on the ground with her legs stretched straight out. She draped her arms over her thighs and tried her hardest not to nod off after their exciting night of digging and refilling a hole in the ground. She, like Harriet, had to change out of her soaked union suit pajamas into something that wasn’t soaking wet. Joan lay across the floor next to Frida with her chin pressed against her fist to prop herself up. She glanced up at Frida from time to time to see if she had fallen asleep or not. She was less than enthused to hear about CJ’s deepest, darkest secret because she was still so embarrassed about her own. CJ sat up on Harriet’s bed and kicked her heels against the drawers that were hidden behind the bed skirt. She draped her left arm over her lap and warmed her right hand up beneath her leg. Her fading copper hair still dripped sporadically because it just held moisture like no one’s business.

“Alright, CJ, what’s your juiciest secret?” Harriet asked excitedly. “Is it about that crush? Something crazy? Is it actually really boring? Do you have actual skeletons in your closet?” She dropped her hands onto the bed and tilted her head, grinning from ear to ear. She stretched her arms toward CJ and threatened to make physical contact with her.

“Yikes.” CJ looked at Harriet and leaned her body away from the crazed adolescent. “It’s definitely not as bad as a dead body or a sex dream about Lincoln,” she shuddered. “Abraham Lincoln of all people. Yuck—you know the original Abraham Lincoln partied hard. He slept with men behind his wife’s back, too.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Why do you know this?”

“Why would you tell us that?” Joan slowly looked up at CJ with some semblance of disgust.

CJ shrugged her shoulders and leaned her head toward Harriet. “I have acquired a lot of useless information over the years, and I can’t remember where most of it came from.” She licked her dry lips. “I thought you moved on from your crush on Abe because he…erm…ignored you for years?”

Joan rolled her eyes. “Just a dream! I bet you’ve had a dream like that before.”

“Huh,” CJ laughed. “Even if I did, I’m not telling any of you because I don’t want jokes about it between the four of us.” She frowned and looked away from the three adolescents, trying to think of a secret that she could willingly give up to these teenage girls. “Thinking of a secret is hard.”

Frida snorted, suddenly paying attention to the conversation the other three adolescents were having. “What, no way. You’re like the most mysterious girl at school, that’s why you became my Vice Prez. We know nothing about you! You gotta have something to tell us!”

CJ exhaled sharply and looked down at Frida. “You guys make it look so easy. Like… I don’t know. What kind of secret do you want?”

“Something juicy!” Harriet squealed.

“Well, that doesn’t help me.” CJ glanced at Harriet. “I don’t have a crush on anyone, so if that’s what you’re looking for, you can forget about that one.”

Harriet hummed. “Shoot. Alright, will you tell us anything about who you are or your foster family?”

CJ inhaled deeply. “Ah,” she looked toward the ceiling. “That doesn’t seem juicy to me. I mean, murder is juicer than being a clone. A sex dream with Lincoln is juicier than my home life.” She looked back down at Joan and Frida. “I think I live a pretty mundane life outside of school, honestly.”

“Alright, alright.” Frida nodded. “How about something personal then? Inner feelings?”

CJ nodded slightly. “Personal I can do. Maybe.” She pulled her right hand from beneath her leg; she lifted her left hand and fiddled with the fraying gauze at chest level. She stared down at her hands with her constantly tired-looking downturned eyes. “I suppose you can consider my personality a front; I pretend to hate everyone. Now, don’t take that as I enjoy everyone’s company because I do not. There are plenty of people I do not want around me, and that’s most people if I’m being honest. I enjoy my own company more than anyone else’s.” She looked up at Frida, feigning eye contact. “I am a bit of a narcissist, I am full of myself, but I can admit that I make plenty of mistakes.” She looked away from Frida and glanced at Joan for a moment.

“So, you’re fake?” Joan asked.

CJ drew the corners of her lips back and stared at the floor in front of her. “Well, yes, if that’s what you call it.” She nodded. “Honestly, what I want to get across here is that I put up this front because I’ve struggled with making connections with my peers for so many years that I’m just so… so angry and upset,” she glanced next to her at Harriet and rested her hands on her knees. “I’ve always found forming bonds and maintaining relationships to be challenging and I saw other people as mean to me, I thought that it was easier to be alone and that I should just treat people the way I was always treated. I thought something would come of it—respect, friendship, something. But I was still alone.” She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head slightly.

“Definitely not bad. That’s really sad though.” Frida said.

Harriet looked at CJ with saucers for eyes. “We’re your friends now.” She clasped her hands together and smiled endearingly at her.

“No thanks.” CJ raised her right hand to the side of her face in an attempt to block Harriet from her peripheral vision. “Not with those mercury poisoning eyes.”

Frida snorted. “Oh, the saucers. Just ignore her, they’ll go away.” She assured CJ through a fit of laughter. “She watched anime as a kid.”

Joan covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed. “Jeez, those are big eyes.”

“Is she still looking at me?” CJ asked.

“Yeah.” Joan and Frida nodded.

CJ frowned. “Eugh.” She crossed her arm over her mouth and yawned into her elbow. “Shit.”

“Hey, about JFK, do you really want to be his friend, or is he really upsetting you?” Joan asked.

CJ grimaced at the question because she could only repeat herself a handful of times before she was ready to deepthroat a gun. It’s not like CJ hadn’t openly admitted to not wanting to engage with JFK because of Joan herself. It’s not like JFK wasn’t aware of the alleged rumor that his girlfriend was jealous or had something against CJ and CJ did not want to engage with him for this reason. But CJ could only say this so many times and it never seemed to click in either of their brains. “Um, I mean, I don’t know. I don’t even know why you’re asking again; we’ve gone over this. I don’t really want to upset anyone. He seems to want to be my friend, but I don’t know what you’re like as a girlfriend and I don’t want to step on any toes—er, upset anyone.” She tried to explain for what she hoped was the last time. “Ah, forget it. Just forget it. No. No, I don’t.”

“Oh, okay.” Joan nodded; a small smile began to creep along her face. “Got it.”

“Man, stop reminding everyone that you’re not single. I’ve got no one to take to Hoco this year.” Frida leaned back on her elbows. “That reminds me—.”

Harriet threw a pillow at Frida. “Stop it, you could ask anyone, and they’d say yes. You always have someone to take, you literally always go with friends.”

CJ chuckled lightly. “You actually like Homecoming?”

Frida pulled the pillow off of her face. “Ay, leave me and my platonic dates alone, Harriet. I want a romantic one this year.” She glanced at CJ. “I love Hoco, I can’t believe you seriously asked me that, girl. Are you taking anyone to Hoco? I mean, you are planning it and all.”

CJ inhaled deeply and leaned away from the sleepover attendees. “My horoscope said the next two years will be absolute ass for me, I’m not even going to risk it.” She had a small lopsided grin on her face, but it quickly faded at the thought of actually having to attend homecoming in October.

Frida snorted. “Bruh. Ask someone, if you get rejected, I’ll go with you.”

CJ pursed her lips and tried to hold back a slight smile. She knitted her eyebrows together and narrowed her eyes at Frida. “I’m confused but also intrigued.”

“We’ll go as friends, the Prez and Vice Prez going to Hoco together would be so rad.” Frida tried to convince CJ. “Just let me know if you get rejected.”

“How will that work if you’re taking someone else?” CJ asked.

Frida glanced around the room, trapped in her own plan because she didn’t think about that part. “Uh-huh. I’ll get back to you on that,” she pointed at CJ.

“Guys, it’s almost 3 AM!” Harriet jumped on her bed, adjusting herself from her stomach to sitting next to CJ. “C’mon, we’re going to miss out.”

“You’re too excited.” Joan commented; she rolled her eyes and tried her hardest not to let a laugh slip past her lips. She glanced at CJ and smirked. “Any tips for a successful summoning?”

CJ’s eyes circled the room, and she leaned away from the small group of teenage girls. “Not exactly. We’re performing the ritual at the witching hour; I suggest some spell candles. Or regular candles. Those will do fine. Fire, none of this electricity bullshit.” She waved her hand as she explained the literal basics behind rituals.

“Regular candles I can do… are scented fine?” Harriet jumped off of her bed and headed toward the door without stepping on Frida or Joan. She stood in the door frame; she gripped the door frame and looked back at CJ.

CJ drew her the corners of her lips back and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see why not. Sage and palo santo have natural fragrance… most candles should be made of essential oils because it’s 2023…” She allowed her voice to trail as she was actually uncertain about that one little detail and was too prideful to admit it.

Harriet disappeared into the depths of her house, leaving Joan, Frida, and CJ to their own devices while she scoured her home for some candles that they could use for their little ritual. Frida showed off her crystal and rock specimen bracelets; Joan listened to her brief spiritual lesson with sparkling eyes. CJ listened intently but didn’t exactly agree with the notion that crystals have spiritual properties. But she could agree that rocks and crystals were fun to collect.

Harriet poked her head back into the room. “Come on, guys.” She stuck her hand in the door and waved one of the candles. “I found some candles.”

“Of course, you did.” Frida groaned; she rolled her eyes and slightly rocked her body backward, gripping her ankles.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Harriet waved her hand, urging them to get up and join her; the longer they delayed, the more aggressive Harriet sounded. “Let’s go.”

“Alright, alright.” Frida huffed.

CJ whined. “Man, I’m still recovering from being outside.”

Joan snorted. “I thought vampires went outside at night.” She sat up and pulled herself to her feet.

CJ shook her head. “I’m much worse than a vampire…” She jumped off of Harriet’s bed and walked between Frida and Joan. “I’m not even a fully functional member of society.” She spoke proudly and pressed the tips of her fingers to her chest.

Frida pursed her lips and stifled her laughter as she pulled herself to her feet. “I shouldn’t laugh, but that was iconic. The walk of royalty and the most deprecating comment. She was so proud of it.” She placed a hand on Joan’s shoulder and laughed. “Man.”

“Don’t laugh too hard, you don’t want to take yourself and Joan down like the twin towers.” CJ looked over her shoulder.

“Stop it!” Frida wheezed.

Joan’s smile quickly faded; she looked between the 3 clones born in 2007. “I’m sorry, did you just make a joke about a national tragedy? People died. Many people died. It’s not something to joke about.”

Frida turned her back to CJ and Harriet, who were still giggling over CJ’s dark humor. “Don’t sweat, you’ll come to learn that our humor today is very dark. We know it’s a huge tragedy and we don’t act like it isn’t, we still celebrate the lives of our heroes and mourn the losses of the innocent.” She explained. “I’m sure you and your friends had a few slick jokes here and there, I mean, we don’t use a lot of the terms you guys used to say because they’re outdated and don’t fit our culture.” She walked backward into Harriet, who placed a hand on her shoulder.

Joan inhaled sharply and rubbed her arm nervously. “Right… your woke culture isn’t making much sense to me.” She shook her head. “We can’t say ‘retarded’, ‘gay’ isn’t an insult anymore—which I can completely understand, but you make jokes about real life tragedies?” She drew her eyebrows together and followed the three adolescent females out of Harriet’s room. “It’s weird. Don’t you think?”

“I certainly do, but I err on the side of offending people.” CJ pushed the bathroom door open. “I rather enjoy my dark humor, it’s very fitting for the persona that I tend to have. And it adds a little bit of dramatic flair. Oh, and shock value.” She walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the sink. She held the candle that Harriet had handed her in front of her chest.

Frida and Harriet slipped into the bathroom behind her, Harriet stood on the far side and Frida stood next to her, leaving Joan to stand opposite CJ and closest to the door. Harriet passed the candles to Frida and Joan and handed a lighter down the line, allowing each adolescent to light their own candle—which Harriet, Frida, and Joan did with ease, CJ, on the other hand, had refused assistance and opted to place the candle down on the counterspace and lit it that way.

“I just don’t get it.” Joan mumbled.

“You don’t have to.” CJ reminded her; she leaned down to whisper to her. “Quite honestly, I don’t understand how someone as uptight and pushy as Harriet made friends with someone as relaxed a Frida. I don’t know how they can even stand each other, but I don’t openly question it, nor do I comment on it… Except for just now.”

“Joan, hit the light!” Harriet raised her voice.

Joan nearly jumped out of her skin and did as she was told; she flicked the bathroom lights off and stared into the mirror with Harriet, Frida, and CJ. The bathroom was only illuminated by the candles and Harriet kept glancing down at her dim phone to watch the time—she would not let any of them begin the ritual until it was exactly 3 AM. Which made it awkward; they stared at their reflections in the dimly lit mirror. CJ’s eyes bounced between each adolescent, feeling an overwhelming sense of discomfort each time she glanced at Harriet or Joan’s reflections but didn’t seem to mind looking at Frida’s (she could have sworn that Frida’s eyes were bouncing around the mirror, and they might have made eye contact through the mirror at least once). Once it was the witching hour, the four of them began to ritual and called upon Bloody Mary by repeating her name into the mirror three times. A young woman, maybe 20 or 30 years old, drenched in blood and donning a ghastly white dress appeared before them in the mirror. She raised her arms and screeched, trying to frighten the four adolescents; her screech blew out their candles, and knocked Frida off balance. Frida gripped Harriet in fear (Harriet, likewise, gripped Frida in fear, but neither of them made a sound). Joan stepped into the door, only slightly startled by the apparition’s visitation. CJ stared the apparition down, masking her own fear with something along the lines of confidence. She continued to hold the candle in front of her chest as if the flame never went out.

“Do you want to watch a movie with us?” She asked.

The apparition calmed down and pointed at herself, shocked that she was being invited to watch a movie with the sleepover attendees that performed a ritual to be frightened by her.

Joan looked at CJ and laughed breathlessly. “CJ!?”

“What?” CJ turned her head to look at Joan. “Do you think anyone that summons Mary asks her to spend time with them?”

Joan pushed herself off of the door and leaned into CJ instead. “I didn’t think of it like that, it could be fun, actually. The more the merrier, right?”

Frida and Harriet pushed themselves against CJ and Joan, pushing Joan back into the door. Frida and Harriet reached for one of the apparitions’ hands to pull her from the mirror so that she could join them for the rest of the sleepover. Bloody Mary pushed her bloodied hands through the mirror, soaking everything in blood, and grasped Harriet and Frida’s hands; they pulled her through the mirror, splashing the entire bathroom, themselves, CJ, and Joan with millennia old blood. The five females scampered out of the bathroom and ran toward the living room; CJ was quick to fall behind, stumbling over her own two feet, and being dragged along my Bloody Mary (who was silently appreciative of the invitation).

Frida dove onto the couch and grabbed the remote. Joan took her spot on the floor again, leaving room for Harriet; Harriet ran into the kitchen to replenish drinks and snacks while Frida tried to pick a movie for everyone. CJ walked around Joan, intending to set with Frida on the couch, but Bloody Mary had taken it upon herself to pull her down to the floor; Blood Mary sandwiched herself between Joan and CJ, looping and arm through Joan’s and her other through CJ’s. CJ simply sat there, stunned and had yet to readjust herself to sit comfortably. Frida snickered at CJ’s slight misfortune.

Harriet rejoined the sleepover attendees with more snacks and drinks; Frida had immediately removed herself from the couch and lay across the laps of the four other females. Joan and Harriet held onto each other for the majority of the movie. Bloody Mary and CJ held onto each other and Frida each time they were frightened by the movie scenes (because this time CJ paid attention to the movie). And every jump that Bloody Mary made, she splattered blood over her new friends, the blankets, and the furniture around them. It lightened the mood each time. Once the credits started rolling, Harriet sneakily instigated a pillow fight by smacking a throw pillow against Frida as she continued to lay across everyone’s laps. Frida was quick to get up and try to show her who was boss. Joan, CJ, and Bloody Mary started out less competitive than the other two; Bloody Mary would spread blood each time she was hit with a pillow, not only drenching the pillow, but splattering the substance in the surrounding area. The teenagers and apparition laughed. The pillow fight soon grew competitive across the five individuals involved when Frida swiped CJ left and right rapidly—CJ was not going to take that kind of strike lightly.

The living room and Harriet’s room, by the end of the pillow fight, was covered in blood from engaging with Bloody Mary (not to mention, the bathroom was covered in blood from pulling her out of the mirror). The apparition waved at the four sleepover attendees and slowly backed away into the bathroom and vanished into the mirror; the blood disappeared as Bloody Mary did. The four adolescents slunk out of the bathroom and dragged their feet back into Harriet’s brightly lit bedroom. CJ dragged her feet toward Harriet’s soft bed and sat down, she slumped over and groaned. Joan and Harriet laughed from the floor, despite themselves being overly exhausted from their entire night of bonding as well. Frida lay back on Harriet’s bed with CJ and sighed.

“Wicked.” CJ looked up and had a crooked smile across her face as she nodded at the easy clean up.

Harriet blinked. “Wow.”

Frida stretched her arms, hitting CJ’s shoulders, and yawned. “How long until school starts?”

Joan tapped the screen of Harriet’s phone and peered at the time. “Uhm, can we just show up at lunch?”

CJ glanced down at her own phone. “Awh, shit. I vote not going at all.”

“I’m not ruining my perfect attendance, start getting ready!” Harriet raised her voice.

Frida, Joan, and CJ groaned.

[cantsomeoneelsedoit]

Ch 52: To You, From Me

Rip: "Want me to pick you up, too?"

Latla: "I hope no one tags me in this..."

And that boy's name was Abraham Lincoln.

This chapter is all about Akira/Anno Un. For plot purposes, UU focuses on how his manga helped the Negators, but there are surely a lot of regular people who love it, too--Fuuko's mom, for one! It holds the record for the longest-running shoujo manga for a reason.

Andy and Tatiana both enjoyed it before they knew about its importance, too. It stands on its own as a story even if the reader doesn't know that it predicts the future, because it's a great story! Fuuko told Top that it was the "gold standard for long-running shoujo manga" and both she and Tatiana were SHOCKED that a young person like Top hadn't heard of it. I wonder what the normal fans would think if they learned its true purpose!

I just realized that if little Akira hadn't been a manga fan, he might've done something else with the story he saw, like make it into a movie or children's books or a spoken word album or an interpretive dance or something. Or even just kept it to himself! And if that had happened, there's a chance that Fuuko would've never known about it, Juiz would've never put the puzzle together, and the people who needed to hear the story might not have ever encountered it.

But the fact that the object he picked up was a G Liner seals the deal. It's for drawing manga! It's like God/the Author/whoever put it there was gently nudging him to make this story into a manga instead of any other medium.

The flashback continues in narration boxes while the current story moves ahead. Rip is running along Autumn's claw while Latla and Bunny get in close.

"Despite that, he never gave up on life, in part because of his mother's desire for him to stay alive. But the other reason...."

TOZUKAAAA!!!! Yes!! I love this!

He had to have a close relationship with a good parent or else the manga may have never happened. What if Akira hadn't overheard her hopes for him? Or if she'd given up on him?

It's all set up so perfectly! And Akira having a loving parent is the key to all of it working out. He wrote all of it with her in mind, even the title! And it did find its way to her, though Anno Un was too late to meet her in person.

I just love that he prefaces the fact that the characters kept him alive with "AND HE HAD A WONDERFUL MOTHER." It's nice to see that.

That's a lot to put on a kid! Poor Akira!

If the bad ending was that the world ended because Fuuko died, it's probably bc killing God is only possible with her Negation abilities and personality, but also hear me out: (ch 16⬇️)

Fuuko's death may have broken Andy, too, and with him weakened, Victor would come out to try to kill Juiz, and then who knows who would ride the Ark!?!

The one-shot contest Akira won was likely in the 70s, judging by the name of the magazine, so by now he's had like 30 years of drawing these characters and writing stories for them. He's their #1 fan! He loves them! How could he not? He doesn't want to see them defeated.

(And that's the difference between Anno Un and God/The Author in the UU-verse. Anno Un knows they're real and wants to help them. God may or may not know the characters are sentient, but only wants to see them defeated...)

Akira found a loophole to his ability by manifesting Anno Un to do the work for him! Has he just been following Anno everywhere all these years?

It seems like Akira may have taken out his soul with Soul Caliber and put it into Anno Un, but I still have questions:

If Akira's body was without a soul, then was his body just hanging out unnoticed somewhere like Fuuko's was when she was in the book?

How did Akira's soul get back into his body at the end of this chapter?

If you have theories, please send them!

Meanwhile, Andy and Rip begin the main attack on Autumn in a very wicked double spread

Hit 'em with the double moons! Without Rip, they couldn't have pulled this off!

The pen shattering as a punishment for changing the future is just cruel! Did God just expect him to live with that knowledge and not try to change it? Or was God afraid of what else Akira might tell them now if he could?

Latla swoops in on her broom-cycle with Bunny and Fuuko and Bunny grabs the core as Andy sets up a Volcano Unluck Bullet.

All of those pieces had to work together and maximize the way their skills could combine for Autumn to be captured. But now that Latla has the core, will the Union be able to get it back?

Awww, that's what Fuuko told Cap'n Andy at the cabin in the book! It makes sense that Andy would be the one to reach out to Akira. He knows what it's like to lose people and how alone Akira must feel.

In the anime, the voice actor for Anno Un, Akira, and the narrator are all the same person, so these narration boxes are Akira's voice speaking and talking about himself in 3rd person.

And we finally see Akira as an older man. He hasn't been acknowledged by another person in so long! Granted, Andy calls him "Anno," which is probably just how it has to be since no one can know about Akira. Still, a fist bump is a fist bump.

"To You, From Me," was a phrase that summarized Akira's feelings toward his mom, but it's also what Andy is giving back to him. Akira's ability forced him to live in a situation where he could only GIVE, never receive. He gave advice. He shared his work. He gave life to a drawing, then gave that drawing his name, his soul, and his fame.

But he couldn't receive things from others because no one could perceive him. Andy's fist bump is the first thing he's received in so long! I wish The Union could find a way to contain his ability and let him live a normal life, like what happened with Tatiana, but his requirements are so strict that there probably isn't a way around it. Still, it would be fun to see him stick around.

Masterpost

[historiavn]

THE WARMTH FROM HIS DIVINE companion’s hands was welcome indeed, bringing Abraham much needed comfort in the midst of a particularly dark hour. Abraham let out a quiet sigh, his troubled gaze flickering upwards whilst he pondered this new information.

    “I see.” He said softly, carefully placing the pen with which he’d previously been fiddling onto his desk. “Is it …. Is it all souls which exist and are divinely remembered forever, or is it just the souls of those who follow your religion?”

continued from this open starter as a new thread.

╰► @withinycu