#Cannot begin to express my excitement at playing Real People Games like that hasn’t even been a POSSIBILITY

[jorvikzelda]

This may be a good and normal thing but I have absolutely zero regrets about having purchased the laptop last night. Like all day yesterday and even as I was buying I was going oh god should I should I not but now I’m not even having second thoughts about the huge display lmao

[kokitanaka]

Thought on Koki's "OLD maid-JOKER" Play

Finishing watching Koki's last show today and I think I need to write down my thought (and sometimes the thought is just too difficult to express in Japanese :p).

The last time I saw him on stage for a play was ten years ago when he was flying in The Imperial Theatre as the boxer champion. To be honest, I was obviously very upset when he and Johnny's parted because he left my favorite group. I was also very disappointed because it also meant it would be difficult to see him starring in anything in the future. I love him singing and dancing. I also love him acting.

Comparing to many talents, I don't think he had that many roles in the past. However, each one is memorable, in My Boss My Hero as a hooligan, in Tokkyu Tanaka 3 Go as the goofy college student, in Hissatsu as the tailor, in Ooku as the monk and in Dream Boys as the boxer champion. I always enjoy his acting.

Finally, "OLD maid-JOKER" happened. Written/Directed by Hyouga Tanaka. I have never seen his brother's work and I couldn't really guess what the play was about. At first, I was just very excited to see Koki starring in a play again. However, this play was beyond my expectation.

Old maid is a card game that players collect pairs and try not to be left with the joker card. Whoever gets the joker card at the end loses. The story says that the world is like the old maid card game. Most people can find their pairs. They have people who support them. However, only the joker is left alone. No one likes the joker and the joker has no one to be paired with.

Koki played a character with the same name, KOKI, a lonely boy who doesn't understand love, born as a mistake and left by his mother. He was the joker of the story. However, KOKI still desired love, family, friendship, and affection. In the story, we followed him through the past, present, and the future. Sometimes the scene was in reality and sometimes it was in the imagination (or was it all imagination? I don't know). Comparing to other roles, this role didn't have a lot of dialogue. However, I think Koki did such a good job walking us through this character's mind.

There was a scene that he was looking into the past with his mother. His body language and the way he talks were just like a young child.

There was also a scene that he was desperate for love from his mother. We could see his sorrow and the broken heart from his tears.

I felt some emotions of the character echoing Koki in real life. However, this is still a difficult character to play. In this 90-minute show, we could really feel all these emotions in this character, which make us feeling sorry for him, wanting to hug him, wishing him can find his happiness eventually.

However, just when we thought good things were happening to him, the story continued to go dark. There was a scene that KOKI felt betrayed and desperate. While the main story was carrying on in the front of the stage, KOKI stood alone in the back, without any dialogue, we saw him turned from suffering and hopeless to psychopathic. It was like the monster came out of him causing him to make mistakes that he could not take back.

In the end though, not sure if it was in reality or out of his imagination, we also saw KOKI finally met someone who brought him the light. This was also my favorite part of the story. The show was somehow difficult to watch because it was dark almost the whole time. However, there was a character with pure good who finally walked in KOKI's life. We finally saw him laughing from his heart. Did he finally get his happiness? The story ended with INKT's "Zutto" playing.

-----------------------------------------------------------

I really think Koki is such a good actor. You really cannot tell he hasn't done any acting in 10 years. Obviously, everyone in the play is a professional actor. Among them, Koki is like one of them. He said that his personal goal for this show is to make sure that he wouldn't use "because I haven't acted in 10 years" as an excuse for anything. His co-star also said that he felt Koki really is a star. He got better and better every day. He was better on stage than in the rehearsal.

Apparently, Koki was quite nervous during the first day. He said he couldn't really eat and he was under so much pressure that he had ulcers in his mouth XD However, I felt he was able to relax and enjoy more after the first day. Koki also said that he was into the character more and more. Sometimes he cried out of nowhere at home because he felt like the character. There was a scene that he had to choke a person to death. Koki said that he had to be careful not to really choke him because his character really hated that person XDDD

I was also very impressed by Hyouga. What he wrote and directed was something deep which I wasn't expected. I watched this play 9 times and every time I had a new discovery or a new explanation for the story. Also, I felt because he knows Koki the best. He really created the play that shows Koki's talent to the fullest. Besides acting, the opening song was 2U and the ending song was Zutto (both Koki's songs). There was a dance act in the beginning. I felt I saw so many parts of him on stage that I love.

Koki was on stage almost all the time for 90 minutes. Sometimes there were activities after the play such as photo sessions, talk shows and mini lives. I don't know how he could be so emotionally involved in this dark character for 90 minutes and turned right back to Koki Tanaka, the artist and started singing. Otsukaresamadesu! Really! I really hope through this play, there are more opportunities in the future for him to act in other things.

ps. For the last show today, as the captain of the play, Koki asked each co-star to say something at the end which is rare (usually only the captain talks). After the show, he even wrote messages on twitter to each co-star, one by one. Sometimes I felt he failed a lot in real life. If people only knew him from the news, it is easy to dislike him, just like the joker in the story. However, when people get to know him, seeing how sweet he is, it is hard not to like him or support him. I think it is also the reason that people who have worked with him never say bad things about him.

[cinna-wanroll]

Kenobi Script

Heavy panting and clanking of soldier’s footsteps.

J-Cut:

Camera on white armor-clad feet, running.

 Scale up on bodies with blasters against a tan backdrop.

A voice accompanies the scene as we continue to pan through a series of shots of the soldiers running through indistinguishable sand buildings.

A few splashes of color pop from signs and banisters, resembling a street chase.

Voice (V.O.)

Hiding. That is what my days are like. Alone, perhaps to die, although I hope not. I can’t. The galaxy rests on my shoulders now, even though I’m not certain it always hasn’t. I meditate just to find myself broken inside, shards of memories finding their way to the surface, and my mind strays to fix the past- although my body has long since left the scene of who I once was. Now, I no longer reside on the front lines. No, I am refined to watch as the glorious Republic that used to be deteriorates around me. All that’s left of who I am- or who I was- are the sparks I can feel across the galaxy, dimming out quickly. And I can still feel their pain, too.

A brief pause as some action occurs on screen. Pan up to reveal dead end and a cloaked figure, chased by Stormtroopers. 

We see the figure draw a GREEN LIGHTSABER, ready to defend themselves.

Their face is in a fierce snarl, all calculated focus. And for a minute, the Stormtroopers hesitate.

Suddenly, the JEDI is lifted off the ground, choking. 

Pan down to ground as a dark silhouette approaches, and a RED GLOW ignites, a hum the only noise we hear.

J-Cut:

To black.

Voice (V.O.)

But however misshapen I may be, however hidden away I am, I cannot reverse my instincts- my purpose. I can hear it whispered to me through the Force, a tug in my spirit. Warrior. Fighter. And even though I go by a different name, it still finds ways to remind me of who I was- who I still wish to be.

Smash Cut:

On intense grey-blue eyes, opening as the camera focuses.

Voice (V.O.)

And it tells me I am still Obi-Wan Kenobi.

A beat begins to crescendo in the background as we cut away

EXT. TATOOINE- SUNSET

Soft hues melt into the horizon as Tatooine’s suns finish setting. We can see the shadow of a figure riding a measly mount in the distance, sand softly moving across the dunes.

Cut to a closer up of Obi-Wan, holding a pair of ELECTROBINOCULARS up.

We see into the green-tinted view, revealing THE LARS HOMESTEAD. We can see a soft light emanating from entryway, but nothing else. 

Cut back on Obi-Wan, taking the Electrobinoculars away from his face and looking thoughtful and frustrated.

Obi-Wan 

Well, Rooh, this whole surveillance business would be a lot easier if I could see anything.

He pats the eopie’s side gently.

Obi-Wan

(Sighs) I’ll just remember to get here earlier next time, then. 

He closes his eyes briefly and we see the wind blowing his hair gently, the breeze picking up around him. Soft drums in the background.

Obi-Wan

(Opening his eyes) I sense nothing of danger here. Some sand people to the north, maybe. But they’re not likely to come anywhere around here, at least not after last time. 

He leads the eopie away from the homestead and pulls his cloak tighter around himself.

Comp. as night begins to fall upon the desert, Obi-Wan riding silently across the dunes. 

Creature noises echo across the empty desert, and we see how truly alone Obi-Wan is out here.

Focus on Obi-Wan’s lightsaber as it clinks against his hip, silver and heavy.

Obi-Wan stops Rooh abruptly, pulling back on the reins, suddenly alert.

Obi-Wan (Whispered)

Easy girl, shh. 

He squints at the distance, hand shifted to his belt where his lightsaber rests. A small shadow approaches over the dune and out of the darkness, silently.

Obi-Wan remains quiet and calculated, trying to gauge if whatever it is is a threat.

 An ominous beat strikes up in the background.

We see a young Luke Skywalker, no older than six, approaching.

Zoom as Obi-Wan’s eyes widen in surprise.

Obi-Wan (Startled)

Luke!

The young boy gazes up at the older man, shuffling nervously with wide blue eyes.

He’s wearing simple, layered clothing and goggles that sit awkwardly upon his blond, ruffled hair. He has on a small orange and blue poncho, knitted and a bit large.

Luke

Do I know you?

Obi-Wan

Well no, not really. But I do know your parents. What in the blazes are you doing all the way out here?

Luke (suspicious)

Why do you wanna know? 

Obi-Wan

Because you’re a young boy out in the desert alone, at night!

Luke

Why are you out here alone at night?

Obi-Wan’s gaze hardens sternly at the boy. He’s not playing games.

Luke (crossing his arms, indignant)

Well, they’re not my parents, they’re my aunt and uncle, and I’m not alone.

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and tries to squint into the distance.

Obi-Wan

Who are you with, then?

Luke

Well… I was with my droid, but then I got lost and- well, I guess now I am alone.

His shoulders slump and his hands fall to his side as he yawns.

Obi-Wan looks at him with worried sympathy, his own face tired.

Obi-Wan (hastily)

Well, we best get back to your home then, your aunt and uncle must be worried sick.

He leans down to help Luke up, but Luke pulls away, pleading.

Luke

Wait, we have to go back for E6-97!

Obi-Wan (confused)

E6-9…

He realizes what Luke means, and we can tell he’s reminded of Anakin here. His gaze turns sad and dark. Of course, his expression seems to say, always with the droids.

Obi-Wan

No, no, there isn’t any time. It’s much more important that you get home now, and then perhaps you can look for your droid in the morning.

Luke takes another step back, stubborn.

Luke

I can’t! E6 is my best friend! I don’t wanna leave him out here to be destroyed in the sand, or scavenged by the Jawas!

Luke bites his lip worriedly. Obi-Wan can see that there’s no changing the boy’s mind, but he tries again with more force.

Obi-Wan

Luke, no droid is as important as a person. And right now, we need to get you back home. Like you said, it’s dangerous out here and-

He’s cut off by Luke, tears welling in his eyes.

Luke

How could you say that? E6 is just as much a person as anyone else! I won him myself, at Bestine in a dice match! I’ve had him forever now, and I can’t afford to lose him. He helps me and Uncle Owen run the farm, he tells us the weather and everything! Please, please, please, you’ve got to help me. If I lose him, I don’t think my uncle’ll buy me a new one.

Obi-Wan sighs, looking away.

Obi-Wan (softly to himself, cracking a smile)

I’ll bet that droid has a lot to report on the weather here.

Luke (crossing his arms again)

He does. He tells us when a sandstorm is coming. And if you don’t help me, then I’ll run away. 

Obi-Wan frowns and turns back to Luke, finally nodding.

Obi-Wan

Alright, since the last thing I want is to be on a wild goose chase while you run yourself into Sarlacc pits. But only on one condition.

Luke (hopeful)

What?

Obi-Wan

You can never, under any circumstances, come out here again without supervision, understand?

Luke nods vigorously, excited.

Luke

Okay!

Obi-Wan

Very well.

He hoists Luke up onto Rooh, who grunts under the added weight. He grabs hold of the reins and makes sure Luke is secure in front of him.

Obi-Wan

Now, which way did you go?

EXT. DESERT- NIGHT

Focus on Obi-Wan and Luke, riding together in silence as Obi-Wan picks up his Electrobinoculars every now and again, searching for Luke’s droid.

Obi-Wan (putting down his binoculars)

Why were you out here in the first place, young one?

Luke (sighing)

I got mad at my Uncle, so I said I was going to run away. He said fine, and that I should take my useless droid with me. That I should leave just like my father before he died.

Focus on Obi-Wan’s pained expression here.

Luke (cont’d)

 So I started to, but then my Aunt Beru told me that my Uncle was just being ridiculous, and that he would never want me to leave. So I decided not to go, after all. But then when everyone was about to go to sleep, I decided I would get out and explore a little. And maybe if I found some place better, I would stay there.

A brief pause as Obi-Wan furrows his brow, concerned.

Obi-Wan

Does your uncle not treat you well?

Another brief pause.

Luke (thoughtfully)

No, he does. Treat me well, I mean. My Aunt says that he really just wants to protect me. But he just doesn’t understand that I want some excitement every once in a while, ya know?

Obi-Wan gazes thoughtfully up at the stars, pan out for full sky view. Thousands of twinkling lights are scattered about in the dark, vast emptiness.

He knows, perhaps better than anyone what that feels like. But he also knows the consequences better than anyone, too.

Obi-Wan

Maybe your uncle has a point.

Luke (surprised)

What? 

Obi-Wan

Someone I cared about once craved the same thing you do. Change, excitement.

He says the words as dryly as he can, trying to convince Luke that he believes what he’s talking about, that he is immune to the pull of adventure. His tone is sad, remorseful as he pulls his gaze back down and nudges Rooh forwards again. 

Obi-Wan (Cont’d)

So he kept craving more and more. He danced with danger.

A fire ignites in Obi-Wan’s sad eyes, memories you could almost touch.

Obi-Wan (saddening)

But then, it was easy for him to believe in the next adventure, and he forgot all about the real reason he was there in the first place. 

Luke looks back at Obi-Wan, curious.

Luke

Why?

Obi-Wan

Because he was different than most people. He needed to be somewhere with people who understood him. But the more time he spent venturing further, the more people he found. And some convinced him that he wasn’t where he needed to be, even though he was. He left his place.

Luke

What happened to him then?

Obi-Wan (softly)

I had to leave him, too.

Luke (disappointed)

Oh, that’s sad.

 Obi-Wan nods and lifts his Electrobinoculars up again, hiding his expression.

Obi-Wan

A little adventure goes along way, Luke. But if your spirit leads you somewhere, follow it. Just remember who you are and try not to stray off your path.

Luke nods, serious.

Obi-Wan looks back and smiles weakly.

Obi-Wan

I think I’ve found your droid.

Luke (perking up)

Really? Wizard! Lemme see!

Obi-Wan hands Luke the Electrobinoculars and guides his direction, until we transition into Luke’s POV.

Back in the green-tinted view we see a SMALL, SEMI-CIRCLE DROID whirring across the top of a nearby ridge.

Focus back on Luke, grinning from ear to ear.

Obi-Wan

Is that it?

Luke nods and turns around to face Obi-Wan and hand him back the binoculars.

Luke

What are we waiting for?

Obi-Wan can’t help but return the boy’s smile.

Obi-Wan

Nothing, I suppose.

Beat picks up

Pan out back view of eopie and riders, until we see the large expanse that lays before them.

EXT. DESERT- NIGHT

Obi-Wan and Luke approach the ledge that we previously viewed, the wind speeding up and the outcropping jagged and rocky, rough terrain. Luke has donned his goggles an Obi-Wan has lifted a hand up, shielding his eyes.

Obi-Wan

We’re almost there. Can you see anything?

Luke

Not yet. (Pausing) I wanna go home.

Obi-Wan’s facial expression is the definition of an inaudible groan.

Obi-Wan

We shouldn’t turn back now.

Luke

I know, I just wish I hadn’t left.

Luke wraps his arms around himself, shivering in the cold.

Obi-Wan takes off his cloak and wraps it around the young child, bringing Rooh to a halt. 

Obi-Wan

I’m going to check the motion scanner on here, give me a moment while-

He’s interrupted by the distinct sound of a TUSKEN RAIDER CALL, extremely close. His face falls.

Luke whimpers.

Obi-Wan (seriously)

Stay here.

Luke tries to protest, but stops as Obi-Wan begins walking away.

Invisible cut through sand:

Obi-Wan comes up on a patrol of three TUSKEN RAIDERS with their bantha mounts, prodding at E6-97, which moves uselessly in circles around them. They turn to see them, raising their weapons angrily and calling out.

Obi-Wan (calmly)

Hello there, friends.

The Tuskens don’t pick up on his friendly demeanor, instead focusing on his lightsaber. They howl in fear and rage and hold their GADERFFII in defensive positions. Obi-Wan winces.

Obi-Wan

Listen, that droid there-

He points to E6, which stops abruptly.

E6-97

Yes?

Obi-Wan

It’s mine. And I require it. It’s of great importance to me. I would be happy if you could let me take it and leave, and I’ll promise not to come near your territory again.

E6-97

I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I belong to Luke Skywalker, who won me fair and square at a dice match on the-

Obi-Wan

 Do hush.

E6-97 shuts up, and we wait for the Tuskens’ response. 

One of the Tuskens lashes out at Obi-Wan, leaping with their Gaderffii and almost striking Obi-Wan, who dodges swiftly but does not ignite his lightsaber. Instead, he grabs hold of the Tusken’s Gaderffii and uses it to knock them off of their feet. 

SLO-MO.

His gaze is intense as the wind slows around the scene, stars decorating the background and the distant sounds of animal life echo around the cavern. We hear the breaths of the Tuskens and Obi-Wan, almost unified in a way. A haunting beat plays as we get a taste of the force, the energies from both sides intense. 

Obi-Wan (still calm, pleading) NORMAL SPEED

I do not wish to hurt you!

Back to SLO-MO

TOGETHER. The Tuskens move as one towards Obi-Wan, bringing their Gaderffii above their heads and howling.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and reaches out towards the two with one hand, stopping them mid-air. The hang there as he repeats himself again, the sound echoing across the expanse of the desert and reverberating around. The banthas groan in fear and buck.

The music swells.

Obi-Wan

I do not wish to hurt you! Lay down your weapons and seek peace. I’m only here for the droid.

He sets them down gently, and no sound is heard. 

NORMAL SPEED.

The Tuskens are shocked, shaken to the core.

It’s quiet as they put down their Gaderffii and mount their still alarmed banthas, riding away into the distance. 

Obi-Wan breathes a sigh of relief.

E6-97

Thank you, sir. Whoever they were, they were quite rude. However I’m afraid I cannot go with you. 

Obi-Wan looks at the droid flatly and says nothing as he hoists it up into his arms and carries it away.

E6-97

Or I can, but I would prefer not to. I must warn you I’m a rather old model so be careful please. You might not get as much use out of me as you think.

Obi-Wan

I’ve no use for a droid. I’m bringing you back to your owner.

E6-97

Oh really? Thank you! Of course, no one of mature age really needs a droid if it’s not in their line of work. Often times companion droids like myself aren’t needed because you have people you can hang out with. I was programmed to play with children, mostly. But I can do some organizational things and give relevant reports, so-

E6 pauses. Obi-Wan looks forward in focus, fighting against the wind.

E6-97

Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I’d lost your interest.

Obi-Wan (chuckling)

Well, that would be the first time a droid has ever said that to me.

E6-97

I am programmed to pick up human emotions through my receptors and sensors. I could also tell that you’re upset, but I didn’t want to say anything.

Obi-Wan

I’m not upset.

E6-97

Okay.

A beat.

Okay so this is a first draft cuz I had no time to edit but I hope you guys enjoy!

[shxwmi]

beAuTiFUL DiSAstER quOTes

“Everything in the room screamed that I didn’t belong.” (page 1)

The beginning of the entirety of this novel happens at the underground fight circle, which Abby knows she does not belong. The importance of this quote connects with the theme of adventure and also her past. Although Abby does everything she can to ensure she is not rekindling her past, she does walk through the doors of that fight circle for a sense of adventure. Her true self belongs within the walls of the arena, but due to her past hobbies, she does everything in her power to distance herself. This is important to the development of the narrative as it reveals the dynamics of Abby.

“I was shoved from behind, and Travis caught me by the arm before I fell forward. ‘Hey! Back up off her!’ Travis frowned, shoving anyone who came near me. His stern expression melted into a smile and the sight of my shirt, and then he dabbed my face with a towel. ‘‘Sorry about that, Pigeon.’”  (page 5)

The initial encounter of the couple-to-be is a crucial moment in the novel because it sets the story in place. The two main characters, who share a relationship throughout the novel, had finally come across one another, which means the narrative will begin to develop, providing the audience with excitement, relief, plots twists, tears and heartaches. The iconic nickname, “Pigeon” begins with their first encounter, which was explained to express Abby’s beauty. Travis was taken back with Abby, and felt the necessity to help her at the fight circle. This quotation is important because it was the start of the love story between the two characters. 

“Second of all, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I haven’t because I don’t see you that way anymore.”  (Travis, page 52)

Within these two sentences, it is evident that there has been a character development or change in Travis’s character. This is the start of something new for Travis. This is where he gradually falls for Abby as he does not see Abby as someone he would want to only have sexual interactions with, rather someone he would maintain a friendship with. Travis is someone who would have sex with any woman with a vagina between her legs, but with Abby, he grew to value the friendship they share, rather the one night of pleasure she wouldn’t give him. He no longer sees Abby as just some female, but rather sees her as a friend, someone he can confide in and go on adventures.

“Travis’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. ‘If you win, I’ll go without sex for a month.’ I raised an eyebrow, and he smiled again. ‘But if I win, you have to stay with me for a month.’” (page 72)

This quotation is important because it helps develop the theme of adventure; in other words risk taking. This wager goes completely against the person Abby tries to portray. She takes the risk of staying at Travis’s place for a month, which may not only showcase the theme of adventure, but also something about Abby. There was absolutely no necessity to create this wager; why did it matter whether Travis remained abstinent for a month? There is a possibility that Abby has started to fall for Travis deep down, and it bothered her to bear witness Travis screwing around with other women. This is important because it reveals something deep within Abby, her true feelings for Travis. There is a chance that Abby wanted to lose, so that she could remain at Travis’s place, just so she can be closer to him. 

“I leaned into Adam’s ear. ‘I’ve got two on Travis.’ I said. Adam’s eyebrows shot up as he watched me pull two Benjamins from my pocket. He held out his palm, and I slapped the bills in his hand.” (page 73)

With this quote, we get into Abby’s past; she was forced into playing poker and betting since the age of thirteen. Abby had moved to Pennsylvania in order to get away from her past, and try to get a fresh start. However, with this simple bet on Travis during his fight, just indicates that she cannot leave her past behind her, and that it will always creep up on because it was just how she was raised by her father. This quotation is important because it provides the readers with a hint into Abby’s past, how she was raised, and the person she has become to be due to father and the poker games. 

“Travis laughed once. ‘I’m not playing the big brother, Pigeon. Not even close.” (page 95)

The context behind this quotation is that Abby has a date with Parker Hayes, and it irritated Travis. This is important because this quote shows Travis confession that he has feelings for Abby, but Abby does not realize it. He doesn’t nor did he ever view Abby as a little sister, or as someone he would consider as a sister.  This quote showcases the continuous development of Travis’ character as he goes from the player on campus to falling in love with Abby.

“I covered my eyes with my hands. ‘You know, before I was pathetic because I was thought to be Travis’s poor clueless girlfriend. Now I’m evil because everyone thinks I’m bouncing back and forth between Travis and Parker like a Ping-Pong ball.’” (page 110)

Abby’s character slowly turns into someone evil; someone who is toying with two men’s emotions, even though it was not intentional. It’s interesting that she compares herself as a ping-pong ball because everyone seems to think she is bouncing back and forth between Travis and Parker. She made it clear from the beginning she had no intentions dating Travis, and her interest towards Parker was clearly shown. However, the fact that she is staying over, and sleeping in the same bed as Travis would definitely confuse everyone. This quote is important because it shows a terrible part of Abby, something that is false, but yet seems to be true; they made her out to be equal to Travis, playing with emotions like they didn’t matter.

“‘Do you even see what’s going on?’ she asked. ‘Travis quit fighting. He doesn’t go out without you. He hasn’t brought any girls home since the bimbo twins, has yet to murder Parker and you’re worried that people are sating you’re playing them both. You know why that is, Abby? Because it’s the truth.’” (page 144)

There are two things that prove the importance of this quote; one the life lesson of friendship and two the beautiful development of Travis Maddox. America Mason, Abby’s best friend from Kansas, has moved great miles for Abby, just to ensure the fact that she will never be alone. The lesson within this quote is, no matter the brutality of the truth, real friends will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want. America told Abby the truth, straightforward, regardless of Abby’s feelings; that Abby was playing with the feelings of both guys. Additionally, America reveals the depths of Travis’s character; that he has given up his passion, his necessity to go out with Abby by his side, his recent change towards abstinence, and his need to murder Parker. America revealed that Travis, indeed, has feelings for Abby.

“‘Travis is what you want, and Parker is what you think you need.’” (page 144)

America’s is just going back to back with hits on Abby; regardless of the wounds America’s words created, she was honest, and pointed out Abby’s mentality. It was obvious Abby has feelings for Travis, but yet due to her past, she pushes those feelings to the side, and proceeds to go out with Parker, assuming that he is the right guy for her. This quote, said by America, just proves that Abby’s past still affects her character, because there is something about Travis that reminds her of what she is trying to escape. Abby is trapped between her past and present, and she does not know she has already fallen for Travis. 

“‘I’ve wanted you for so long, Abby. You’re all I want,’ he breathed against my mouth.” (page 172)

Here within this quote holds the key to the most crucial moment within the novel. Abby had finally given up her virginity to Travis Maddox, the one person she promised she would not have any sort of sexual interactions with. This is crucial because this moment meant a lot to both characters, for Abby it was her first time ever, and for Travis it was special as it was with the woman he loves. However, the biggest surprise that occured was when Abby ran away, back to her dorm because she did not want to face reality; she had fallen in love with Travis Maddox, someone she wanted nothing to do with. From this moment forward, the twists and turns of this novel only gets better, and more surprising.

“He laughed once. ‘Unbelievable. The one girl I want, and she doesn’t want me.’” (page 194)

Towards this specific quote, I felt a special connection towards it because I experienced the exact feeling about three years back. Travis is in love with Abby; Abby was the only female Travis has let into his life, built a relationship with and finally fallen in love with. However, during their confrontation Abby revealed that she cannot be with Travis, and I related to the moment. In my freshmen year, I had fallen for my best friend, but I couldn’t be with him given the circumstances back in the day. No matter how much I wanted to be with him, he did not want to be with me. This quote is important for the novel because it allows the reader to connect to the characters on an emotional level. 

“‘I’m … pretty sure I’m in love with Travis,’ I said, bracing for his reaction. (page 195)

With this confession, the novel’s storyline finally comes into play. This confession is an important moment in the novel because the characters can finally build a relationship where they both are romantically together. The story revolves around the dynamics of the pair, whether they are together or not, however with this confession, their story finally starts. Moving forward, after the couple realize that they want to be together, they will be faced with many hardships and challenges, which will test their love for one an

[imagining-supernatural]

Chapter 2: History Class

Cracks In The Dam Series – Reader’s POV

She’s a quiet engineering and physics major trying to forget the demons of her past, and he’s the campus playboy trying to turn over a new leaf. Their friendship is unlikely, but just might be forged to withstand the cracks in the dams they’ve built to protect themselves. (BuckyxReader college au)

Word Count: 1900

You know how you always seem to have that one class each semester that just makes you give up three minutes into the first day? History was that class for me. I was halfway through the semester and barely holding onto a D. Maybe if I paid attention in class instead of sketching new ideas in my notebook, I could bring that grade up, but honestly, who cares? It’s history. I just need a D to pass.

“Another exciting day learning about fifteenth century history,” someone says, plopping down in the chair next to me. The husky scent of his cologne and faint tinge of cigarette smoke gives away his identity before I even look up.

“Oh lovely. Another stimulating conversation with Bucky.”

He chuckled and leaned back in the chair. “It’s been long two days without me. I know it’s hard, doll.”

“Why don’t you go sit with your harem?” I was referring to the group of girls he usually sat with in the back of the lecture hall. “I’m sure they need your attention more than I do.”

“Probably.” No shame. Not even an ounce of shame. No embarrassment. No sense of humility. How do people find him—

Okay. Fine. He’s attractive. But how do people stand to be around him?

My watch vibrates, letting me know I have a text, and I look down at it to see that Tony texted me. Thankful for the distraction, I grab my phone out of my backpack and open the conversation.

Tony: Jarvis thinks I have a concussion and keeps wanting to call an ambulance. Tell him I’m fine.

���God, it’s like babysitting a five-year-old,” I mumble. He’s nearly twice my age, but Tony Stark is just a giant baby underneath his playboy exterior. I suppose rather than an uncle, he’s more like an annoying older brother.

“That the dude from your date on Friday?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t a date.”

Canary: You designed Jarvis. He knows you better than you do. If he thinks you have a concussion, go to the damn hospital.

Canary: What did you do, btw?

“Not a date. Right. Dressed like you were? Doll, that dress you wore was probably more than my last paycheck.”

Setting my phone down, I gave all of my attention to the dark-haired man beside me. “Why so interested in my love life, Barnes? Your one-night stands getting boring?”

He leaned forward, arms crossed on his desk, and gave me a smirk with that damn twinkle in his eye. “Why so defensive, Y/L/N? Jealous that your best friend found her true love and you struck out on Friday night?”

“Oh, God, don’t remind me about Nat and Steve. They’re disgusting. Literally they’re always making out on the couch or in my kitchen or… ugh.” I’m happy for Nat, but still. Boundaries, girl!

Tony: It’s Bubba’s fault. I tweaked the thrusters and tested them out and that stupid machine didn’t spot me like he should have.

Tony: If I had a concussion, would I be able to type grammatically correct sentences? Checkmate.

“Boy trouble?” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and I just shot him a dirty look.

“Boss trouble. Gimme a sec.” Rather than text him back, I dialed his number and waited for him to pick up. I didn’t even give him time to say hello when he answered. “Go to the damn hospital, Tony.”

“No time, Cannie. We’ve got that—”

“I will drag your stupid ass to the hospital myself. If I’m going to be on my A-Game this week, you need to be too. I need your brain. It’s the whole reason I have a job. I’m going to tell Jarvis to call that ambulance.”

“They’ll just tell me I can’t do the presentation and—”

“For fucks sake, man. I’ll do the presentation. Your brain is your best asset and no-no, don’t say anything. I regret that word choice already. You need to make sure you didn’t fuck up and ruin it.”

“Grammatically correct sentences.” He said pointedly. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll believe it when a doctor tells me that.” I hung up and immediately called the line that Tony set up for me to directly connect to Jarvis. “Jarvis, I’m overriding whatever stupid command Tony gave you and telling you to call a goddamn ambulance.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I cannot approve an override without—”

“Override code: Please and thank you.”

There was a moment of silence before Jarvis approved the code and called an ambulance. I just loved that AI. I swear, he was more human than most humans sometimes.

By the time I finished with all of that drama, Bucky was watching me with a puzzled grin on his lips. “I’ve never heard anyone talk to their boss like that.”

“You’ve never met my boss. You’d understand.”

Just as Bucky was about to say something else, the professor drew everyone’s attention to begin another boring lecture. As usual, my attention span lasted roughly thirty seconds before I was bored to tears and turned to a clean page in my notebook.

Tony said he was messing with the thrusters? I could only imagine the kind of scene that played out when he tested them. Get footage from Jarvis, I wrote in the margin of the page before starting playing around with the thruster design.

For the presentation on Friday, we would definitely have to go with the original design. There was no way I was going to trust one of Tony’s tweaks less than a week before the biggest presentation of my life. This might not be as big of a deal for him, but this was my first real presentation. If I could nail this in front of the entire board of Stark Industries, the CIA, and select individuals from the US Armed Forces, then I was set for life. I would have my choice of jobs. I could do whatever I ever imagined after graduating next year.

I just couldn’t let Tony screw this up.

But since I knew him, I knew that he was going to play around with the design until he got bored with it, so I had to keep up with him. Maybe I could even come up with some ideas he hasn’t yet. Beat the great Stark to a breakthrough. That was the dream…

My watch vibrated again and I glanced down to see the message scrolling past the screen.

Jarvis: Mr. Stark has been admitted to New York-Presbyterian Hospital. He is not happy. I will keep you updated on his whereabouts so you will be able to find him when you are finished with your classes for the day.

“Big baby,” I whispered under my breath.

Warm breath on my shoulder drew my attention to Bucky, who was leaning over to look at my notebook. “You a fashion designer or something?”

“Or something,” I muttered. He was entirely too close to me, so I shoved him lightly. “Dude, personal space.”

The rest of class went by uneventfully. Bucky kept trying to distract me and I kept squinting at my notes on the project. There was something I could do with it. Something I hadn’t thought about yet. I just knew it.

Before I knew it, class had passed and everyone was suddenly moving, shoving their notebooks and laptops into their bags. As if snapped out of a daze, I looked around.

“Well, that was a fascinating lecture, as usual,” Bucky drawled, stretching his arms back and over his head. Why guys always took up so much space was a mystery to me.

“I sure hope none of that is gonna be on the test,” I mumbled, gathering my things.

Bucky stayed by my side and, uncharacteristically, stayed quiet until we were out of the classroom. Ever since Nat, my best friend, started dating Steve, his best friend, Bucky and I found ourselves together all too often. So I knew that he rarely shut up.

“You know,” he started, and I nearly groaned. So close. So close to a full sixty seconds without speaking. That would have been a record. “I could help you out with this class.”

“You? Really?”

His brow furrowed minutely and there was a wounded expression that flashed across his eyes. It was so brief that I nearly didn’t catch it. “Hey now, just because I’m hot and sexy as hell doesn’t mean I can’t be smart too. You should know.”

That made me scoff. “Right.”

But… if Bucky really could help me out in this class… I was teetering right on the edge of failing. I really didn’t want to retake this class next semester…

“No strings?”

“What kind of strings would I attach, Y/L/N?”

We stepped out into the cool fall air and I stopped just before going down the stairs to the building. Bucky imitated me and I eyed him for a long few moments, trying to discern his true intentions. Why did he offer to help me? What did he have to gain?

“Okay,” he gave in with a hidden smile. “Fine. One string.”

“Ha! I knew it!” There was always something.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to word his stipulation. “One string: friendship. That’s it. I promise. I’ll help you, but you have to admit that we’re friends.”

That was not at all what I had been expecting. “Why?”

He huffed a small laugh and there might have actually been a spattering of blush on his cheeks. “Alright, this is going to make me sound like a complete douche, but it’s the truth. I swear.”

“Spit it out, Buck.”

“I like this,” he motioned to the space between us. “Because you’re not into me. Besides Nat, you’re the only other woman who doesn’t try to get my attention or get into my pants. It’s refreshing.”

“Poor Bucky,” I crooned. “It must be so hard to have all the women falling over themselves for you. Being the resident sex-god must just be the worst.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Douchey, right?”

I shook my head and started walking towards the library. “It’s conceited, is what it is. I can guarantee you that Nat and I are not the only women who don’t want to sleep with you. You just never notice the girls who don’t pay any attention to you.”

“You’re probably right,” he surrendered. “But about our deal, whattaya say, friend? Besides, we’re gonna spend a lot of time together anyway, with Nat and Steve dating. Might as well just accept the inevitable.”

My watch vibrated just as I started to respond and I glanced down to see a short message from Tony seconds before another text came through from Jarvis.

Tony: I hate you.

Jarvis: Mr. Stark has a mild concussion but is otherwise in excellent health. He is going back home.

Turning my attention back to Bucky, I gave him a small smile. “Let’s see how the first study session goes.”

“Tomorrow at one? Grab some lunch while we’re at it?” With a victorious grin, he started walking backwards away from me.

“I have to work all day. I can do Wednesday at one though.”

“I’ll meet you at your place with food, then. See ya later, friend!”

Watching him walk away, I wondered what the hell I’d just gotten myself into.

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[nancywheelxr]

(our friends set us up on a blind date as a prank because we don’t like each other but neither of us wants to let them win so ) | Part 7:

( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) ( part 3 ) ( part 4 ) ( part 5 ) ( part 6 )

Weeks pass surprisingly uneventfully, but even amidst the dull boredom, something stays with Winn, nagging at him to pay attention. Alex hadn’t meant anything by her comment, not really, not this time, but it makes clear they have to step up their game if they want to keep this up for much longer. Soon, people will begin to wonder why they never seem to go on “dates”. And god knows the DEO loves a good gossip.

So when Kara asks if they want to go get drinks after work, Winn makes a big show out of telling her no, he can’t, actually, because you see, it’s date night.

The choice of words is important, too. He’s very proud of that. Date night, implying a routine, implying they did this before, implying they go out regularly.

And he thinks Brainy notices it, too, because he smiles from across the table, knowing and private, eyes shining under the lights, before going back to his conversation with Alex.

Kara grins, watching them. “Right, are you guys planning anything big for Valentine’s Day?”

“Sure,” he replies easily, “I’ve got reservations at that fancy french place downtown.”

She coos, shaking his shoulder excitedly, “oh my god, that’s so romantic! You’re taking him back to the place of your first date!”

“Yeah, well, not to brag, but I’m a damn good boyfriend.”

“You are constantly bragging,” Brainy comments, suddenly appearing at his side, “although you’re not incorrect. This time.”

Winn snorts, “thanks, babe.” A foot steps on his, and he has to bite back his snickers, “anyway. We were talking about how awesome I am, right? We should go back to that.”

“No, but seriously, how did you get that reservation? And at Valentine’s Day?” Kara says, gaping, “I heard there’s a month-long wait list.”

He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “two months long. But I actually made them back in December? I mean, I was already there anyway, so I asked just to see– who knows, right? And there was a table left, so I took it. Seemed smart at the time.”

“Not at all,” Brainy frowns, apparently not grasping the logic of that, “two months are too far ahead, what if we had broken up?”

“Nah,” Winn grins, swinging an arm around his shoulder, “I thought it was worth the gamble. ‘Sides, I have faith in us, man.”

The frown clears from his face, but Brainy keeps looking at him with surprise– no, that’s not right. Something surprised and disbelieving in his eyes that Winn wishes he had more time to figure out properly–

Someone makes gagging noises nearby, drawing their attention away from each other. It’s Alex, faking a disgusted grimace, “yeah, yeah, we get it,” she rolls her eyes, waving them off, “you guys are disgustingly in love.”

If she wasn’t grinning just like her sister, Winn maybe would be inclined to believe the annoyance on her words, but as it is, Alex isn’t fooling anyone. She’s just as happy for them. And maybe if he hadn’t meant it what he had said earlier– he did have faith in them at the time. Half-drunk and excited with their new plan, he had been absolutely goddam sure they would be able to pull this off– then maybe he would feel a little bad for tricking them.

“It’s a love story for the ages,” he says. His smile slips briefly, but it goes unnoticed.

“Absolutely revolting,” she shakes her head.

Kara elbows her sister, snickering along. “Let them live, Alex,” she keeps a straight face for about a second before adding, “they have a date tonight.”

“You know, I met thirteen-years-old more mature than you two,” Winn tells them matter-of-factly, then turns to Brainy, “are you ready to go? Or do I need to entertain the peanut gallery for much longer?”

“There are no peanuts here,” Brainy gives him a perplexed look, “do you want peanuts?”

Right, he should’ve seen that coming, this one’s on him. “No, it’s just an expression, it means they’re children and their comments are stupid.”

“Oh. It’s a very misleading expression,” he shrugs, “but in that case, yes, we can go now.”

“Great,” Winn claps, whirling around, “shall we?”

“Have a good date,” Kara calls.

“And bring him back before midnight!” Alex adds.

“Will do,” he laughs.

*

“I have a very important question,” Winn says with a serious expression. He’s just finished locking the door, and Brainy is still hovering nearby. “Have you ever played Mario Kart?”

He throws his keys in the vague direction of the dish by the door, and Brainy follows him into the living room, sitting down on the couch. “I have not. The only games I know of are the ones Kara has brought at Game Nights.”

“Yeah, right, right, she told me you were there a few times,” Winn says, hooking up his game system on the TV. “She also mentioned it was a bit of a learning curve?”

“There were no explosions and no kittens,” he complains, huffing forlornly, “everything is so misleading in this century.”

“Even Scrabble? I thought you would be good at that one.”

“We haven’t had the opportunity to play it,” Brainy says diplomatically and takes the controller passed to him, turning it around curiously.

“Seriously? Kara hasn’t lifted the ban yet?” Winn scrunches up his face, “but then again, we’re still strongly against Mario Kart during Game Night, so. That’s fair, I guess?”

Only sort of, though. Adding the letter s to every completed word on the board just to see Alex slowly go through all five stages of grief does not compare to breaking one’s favorite controller during Mario Kart. The thing was crushed. To smithereens. But he supposes some games are just not meant to be played by a group of very, very competitive people.

They haven’t banned Monopoly yet, though, for some reason.

“Nevermind that,” he shakes his head, focusing on the task ahead, “so. I figured since we gotta stick together for a couple hours, we could just stay here and chill? I’ve got Mario Kart, Netflix, and the pizza place on speed dial.”

“Not Massimo’s?”

“God no, that place is stricken from the records. Giorgino’s two blocks down– and before you ask, yes, I’ve checked and they’re willing to make your weird apples and olives pizza.”

Brainy smiles. “It is the only acceptable flavor of pizza.”

“And people think pineapples were the real crime,” Winn laments.

The familiar song kicks in as the menu pops up, and Winn does his best to explain the game. It’s fairly simple, after all, and it’s not as if they were going straight for the rainbow road. Brainy picks up on it quickly, choosing Luigi as his avatar. Winn, of course, chooses Yoshi because some traditions are meant to be followed. And, weirdly enough, it’s not so bad. Throwing shells at him is very entertaining, watching his confusion as to why he’s suddenly spiraling off the road turn into suspicion turn into really? And that turns into spite pretty quickly.

Because the thing about Mario Kart is that it’s so much more fun when you’re overly competitive– and not gonna lie, both of them are guilty as charged on that one.

“Fuck off,” Winn says, too busy to physically flip him off, “that’s cheating!”

“No, I am merely using the resources available in the game,” Brainy replies calmly.

“I don’t know how yet, but I know you are and I will figure it out,” he threatens, leaning to the right as he makes a curve, “in the meantime–”

“I’ve told you I’m not– wait. What happened? Why have I shrunk?” Brainy glares at him, “and I’m the one cheating?”

Winn laughs.

He had been so prepared for tonight to suck, it’s almost upsetting how well it goes. They don’t argue properly, no more than the usual bickering, which by now it’s mostly fun. Brainy accepts the beer he tips in his direction, humming pleased and somehow not swerving on the road while holding the controller one-handed.

That’s so cheating.

“So, you want that pizza now?” Winn asks, pausing the game.

“I could eat,” Brainy decides after a moment of indecision. He might have been aiming for a nonchalant, cool reply, but his stomach betrays him, growling earnestly, and he sighs, halfway amused, “I meant, yes, I would like that pizza now.”

Hiding his snickers, Winn digs around for his phone, lost somewhere in the mess they made of the coffee table. The pizza place is on speed dial and the teenager on the other end of the line apparently isn’t paid enough to judge his weird ass order.

“Appalling,” he says later, when the two pizzas are laid side by side and the olives stare back at his soul amidst the apples. “God really has left us.”

“Try it,” Brainy tells him, eyebrows raising in clear challenge. He picks up a slice for himself and nudges the box towards Winn.

And well. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Winslow Schott, Junior cannot back down from a dare, so he sets down his own pepperoni slice and carefully takes the olive and apples, gingerly raising it as if it were a nuclear bomb about to go off in a crowded mall. A deep breath. He takes a small bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Eh, it’s not so bad. I thought it would be worse, to be honest.”

Brainy gives him a victorious smirk, “would this be a good time to say I told you so?”

“It’s never a good time to say that,” he scowls, washing down the taste with beer, “and it’s still weird.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” They eat in relative silence for a while, and Winn isn’t surprised to see him slowly working his way through the entire pizza. The game is soon switched for some very unrealistic action movie neither of them recognizes, but the explosions do look cool with the electronic soundtrack.

“It’s a shame there are no pizza places in the future,” Brainy comments idly.

“Oh my god, I know, right? I searched everywhere for one, it didn’t even have to be good, the bar was at existing.” Winn says, gesturing broadly with a slice, “and how come there are no bananas, either? And no one even knew what I was talking about, it was like they didn’t even exist! Like, I didn’t look it up because, you know, spoilers, but what happened? Did we all as a species develop a sudden aggressive allergy to bananas and had to destroy all records of the fruit? Is there gonna be another banana apocalypse in the next centuries– what?”

He stops, self-consciously wiping his mouth with a napkin, because Brainy is staring at him strangely. To be fair, everything about all of this is strange. But he caught him doing that before; sometimes at work, Winn will turn to say something, only to find Brainy already looking back. It’s odd and offputting, and honestly? A lot easier to just chalk it up to another one of his quirks and call it a day. That’s probably the explanation anyway. Now, though, Brainy shrugs, “nothing. Do you always feel this passionate about fruits?” A pause. “Did you say another banana apocalypse?”

“Dude,” Winn breathes, sitting up properly because it’s not every day you get to school Brainy about something. “It’s so much less exciting than it sounds, but here’s the thing– “

*

It’s a little after ten o’clock when he walks Brainy to the door, awkwardly stopping in the doorway. He scratches the back of his neck, “so. I guess it wasn’t all that bad, after all.”

“I suppose it was not unpleasant,” Brainy allows, his lips twitching, “although, I do have a request– next time, may I bring the movie?”

“Sure,” Winn says easily, then stops. He narrows his eyes, “am I going to regret agreeing to this?”

Now, Brainy grins openly, startlingly amused, “well, you’ll just have to wait and see. Good night, Winn. And thank you.”

It’s something in the way he says it that Winn wonders what exactly he’s being thanked for, too warm, too grateful to pass as simply politeness. Still, unwilling to overthink it, he shrugs awkwardly, “no problem, man. See you tomorrow.”

Brainy nods, slipping out the door.

Winn stays there, staring at the end of the hall for another long moment before going back inside.

[eluvianarts]

My Solavellan Isn’t Hell - Here’s Why

It would first be important for me to note that I was late to the Dragon Age party, & started with Inquisition in 2017. Since then I have, of course, picked up & played all three titles multiple times, but my first playthrough with Inquisition introduced me to the world of Thedas, thus my understanding of terms like “the Fade”, “Grey Wardens”, & “the Rite of Tranquility” were shaped by this game first. It may also be noteworthy to mention that I always play my OCs as my own self - I design them to look like I do, react like I do, make decisions that I would make, etc. (So if I say “I” instead of “Lavellan”, this is the reason).

The first time I first heard the term “Solavellan Hell” I thought it was such a negative sounding reference to such a powerful romance. “Hell?”, I thought, though I had indeed finished the game & all DLCs. “Hell produces pain, suffering, & anguish. None of which I experienced in a concentrated enough amount to be considered hell.” But scrolling through tags I quickly understood where my experience differed from others, & I intended for quite some time to share my thoughts. Let me explain...

[This is the part where I warn the reader that spoilers are bound to follow under the cut]

[[Short version - Just read the last two paragraphs.]]

My inquisitor, Visériel Lavellan, was immediately enamored with Solas from the start. (I literally flung my arms in the air & said to my husband “I don’t even care that he’s bald!”). The way he described his journeys in the fade, (remember, I had no prior experience of the fade from the other games). To Visériel, the fade was a wonder just as Solas described; “It is the fade. They are all real.” ... Also that iambic pentameter. But I digress...

Visériel had eyes for no one else, & her flirting was saved only for Solas. When she stole a kiss in the fade, & it was returned with such passion, she knew they were bound to be a powerful couple, feeding off each other’s strengths, building up each other’s weaknesses, all while maintaining an air of dignity. This bond is important because she believes they are on equal grounds even if one or the other has strengths or weaknesses the other does not, (this feeling doesn’t change after Trespasser either - see below for reasons why Visériel feels she is meant for more).

She was not the big, brave, leader that the Inquisition seemed to position her as, but she took the role seriously, (albeit casually with her friends,) judged with mercy & forgiveness, made responsible tactical moves, (including going the long way about saving the Montilyet name in Orlais), & stood as it’s face even when she denied knowing whether or not the Maker had sent her, (she sees that knowledge has been tainted over the years, & believes that all peoples may be partially correct & partially incorrect). This is important because as more known “truths” concerning the Maker, the Divine, the Dalish gods, & the history of the Chantry are uncovered & found to be inaccurate, or flat out lies, she is not shocked, nor her faith rattled. (However, Sera greatly irritated Visériel because of her disrespectful attitude toward others’ beliefs).

Later on the balcony, when Solas mentions that she is not what he expected, asking if he had misjudged the Dalish, she replies with, “The Dalish didn’t make me like this. The decisions were mine”, because though she loves her family, she is her own person. Visériel had always thought of herself as not-quite-an-outsider, but not-quite-an-insider. Besides her wariness to believe another’s theory without any sort of analysis, she always felt she was meant for something higher. Becoming Inquisitor had partially given her what she felt she was missing, but it also sometimes felt wrong for her to be the face of those who had previously looked so far down their noses at her. This is important because when more is revealed about how the Elvhen used to be, she sees it as how she was always meant to be, especially in Trespasser when she travels the Eluvians, she is amazed at how wonderful it all is & the knowledge to be gained! (Also, Abelas, don’t you point your finger at me “You are not my people!”. Rude!) This is also important because when she discovers that Solas is Fen’Harel, she doesn’t bat an eye, because it only makes sense that she, having always felt she was meant for more, would fall for someone who was in fact “more”.

When Cole panics about his possible possession, & begs Solas to bind him, Visériel listens to the kid & reasons with him. Though she sees Varric’s side of the argument that Cole is also “strangely like a person”, she cannot ignore the fact that he is also like a spirit, & she would rather see him safe than sorry, & give him the protection he needs. She also generally leads with compassion & peace, so when confronting the Templar who killed Cole, she encourages him to forgive the man. One of the biggest reasons Cole is one of her best friends is because of his desire to help others, & she encourages him to look for many resolves to a situation, & not to take lives. This is important because she believes spirits can learn & that coexisting is possible & desirable.

When learning of Inquisitor Ameridan & his tragic romance with Telana, Visériel couldn’t help but wonder why Telana seemingly gave up on him. She spent the rest of her life searching for him in the fade when Visériel & her companions only had to find the metal spikes that Telana knew about & free him. Even if she knew it would release the dragon, she then should’ve spent her years learning how to kill it, or to release the spell’s hold on Ameridan, not simply dreaming & waiting for nothing to happen! This is important because when Solas leaves her, she is determined to do something useful, not just wait around for him to return on his own.

Discoveries at the Temple of Mythal, differing from what the Dalish currently believe, didn’t shock Visériel, but instead excited her! She loved finding the truth! Especially when it answered questions that she had been debating. Wanting to keep the peace, & to gain favor with the ancient elves, Visériel made the deal with Abelas even after his uppity behavior, (”You are not my people” Rude!). Honestly, Visériel wanted to destroy the well rather than let anyone have it, which seems contrary to her usual quest for the truth, but everyone was uncomfortable with the well, & if Solas was so adamant about himself not drinking from it, she surely wouldn’t risk it, so Morrigan drinks. When he asks what she will do with the power after the war she replies, “I’ll try to help this world move forward”, & when he responds angrily asking what she would do if it ends up worsening things, she says, “I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again”. This is important because Visériel keeps her head high, & is a beacon of hope even when the world is, (quite literally), falling apart. She prides herself on taking a breath, & moving forward. 

During the Crestwood vallaslin scene, Visériel chooses to remove the markings since she trusts Solas’ word & knowledge. She would rather move forward without the vallaslin, now knowing the truth behind what they stand for, rather than keep them as some form of sentiment. No matter if she originally got them for another reason, the truth is more important, & “my people vowed never to submit to slavery”, though she does express remorse that the Dalish were wrong once again. Her emotional responses are often either hope, agreement, or sadness. 

On the breakup part, I thought the dialogue choice, “I don’t want to lose you” would be more hopeful than a sad cry of “Solas!”. Then given that the dialogue choices were either a hopeful, “I believe in us”, or a sad, “I love you”, she really just wanted those three words said out loud, so I chose the sad dialogue, but a cross between the two choices would’ve been more accurate.

And this is where Visériel’s unshakable faith & fierce tenacity come in. Solas won’t explain to her about the breakup right away, but promises “everything will be made clear” after the defeat of Corypheus. So she is patient, waiting to get her answer, because she trusts him to keep his word. But of course, we know that he doesn’t follow through. When his orb breaks he is lost again, unsure of how to next move forward, & so he runs, to rethink, to replan, & Lavellan is left confused & troubled. Visériel believed something very important must’ve altered his course especially after his somber words of “it was not supposed to happen this way” & “what we had was real”, especially since they had been a force of power together. At Leliana’s gentle words that, “Perhaps he had no choice? He might return at any moment”, Visériel gave a shy smile, hopeful again.

She then used her resources to search for Solas, & as they years passed she grew less certain that he was even alive. Her time as Inquisitor was less appealing without him around, but she continued to try to better the lives of everyone she met. When the Exalted Council had to meet she was embittered at the resounding lack of thanks she was getting for all her hard work. But seeing her friends again brought back good memories, & when Cassandra lets slip that she thinks Lavellan is going to propose, she responds with, “I might get married. I’ve thought about it.”, because even after all these years she hasn’t lost hope that perhaps he may return.

Discovering new knowledge through the Eluvians excited her once more, made her feel part of something real again, but as her arm begins greatly paining her, she cries that she doesn’t want to die, followed by “not knowing the world still needed me”, but what she kept to herself was, “not knowing if Solas is still alive”. Venturing further through the Eluvians she pieces together that Solas is the Dread Wolf, & even more, she realizes he’s the one who’s been fighting the Qunari, which quickens her pace further, now knowing that he is alive & more powerful than she had ever imagined. (I should also mention that I 100% games, so I search every nook & cranny for every shred of information, dialogue, & quest). She wants to find him as soon as possible, to ask him about everything, only hoping that he’ll still look at her like he did on the balcony. Nothing else matters anymore - she is dying, Solas is alive, & the Inquisition is no longer of any use.

“We have to save him!”

Hearing his voice again, & seeing him look at her with even more care & kindness than he had before, all Visériel wanted to do was wrap her arms around him, so thankful that she hadn’t given up on him, nor he on her. (I wish the dialogue option for “You’re the Dread Wolf” wasn’t so accusatory sounding).

“What is the old Dalish curse? ‘May the Dread Wolf take you’?”, he says, afraid she now sees him as all the others do, with disdain, distrust, & disgust.

“Our legends about you are wrong. I saw the truth as we traveled the crossroads.”, she exclaims, filled with the revelation that what once seemed questionable to her now made so much more sense! 

“If you had just told me... Ma ghilana, vhenan!” 

 Visériel, having always believed she could analyze & interpret quite well, tosses aside what others may think of her, fully understanding that the world had been a marvel & could see it’s former glory again if the veil returned magic as it once was, & though it would take a long time for them to first stop mindlessly fighting one another, she believed men & spirits can coexist, as seen with her relationship with Colr. Ready to follow Solas as he had once followed her, & add her strengths to his, she believed that the world would be better in the end if his plan succeeded. 

He tells her everything, letting her gain all the knowledge & all the explanation that she was due.

“Let me help you, Solas!”

“I cannot do that to you, vhenan.”

“But you would do it to yourself? I cannot bear to think of you alone.”

But when time runs out, & her mark flares up again, Solas chooses to save her, but leave her again, hoping it would in fact save her life.

“Solas, var lath vir suledin!”, she confidently declares.

“I wish it could, vhenan. My love...” he whispers, resigned to go against her wishes. “I will never forget you.”. Then he disappears through the Eluvian.

The end of Trespasser is the second time he leaves her, but what has now taken place changes everything to her! The first time he left without a word, without explanation. She had no idea how he felt, why he left, what he was doing, or if she would ever see him again. Now she knows exactly how he feels, the reason he’s left, what he is up to, & she is fully determined to see him again! Last time she took deep breaths to keep her hope intact, searching for any sign of him, but now her hope is in full force, because she knows that he loves her, & she loves him, & she’s going to show him once again that they are stronger together than apart. Visériel disbands the Inquisition, not to sift out the agents of Fen’Harel (as the screen indicates), but because clearly the Inquisition is no longer needed, & she would rather have a handful of reliable friends at her side than an army of possible turncoats, especially when she knows she will be greatly opposed when she announces to her companions that she intends to help Solas against his enemies.

All in all, what I’ve taken away from why I didn’t consider my experience to be Solavellan “Hell”, is that I was always so skeptical of the information given to me, (be it about beliefs, persons, or history), hopeful in what could be, & persistent in going after the truth, & what I wanted. I have heard that Solas takes from Lavellan her beliefs in her gods, (which to my Lavellan only confirmed what she guessed at previously), her connection to her clan via the vallaslin, (if you remove it, which my Lavellan did, because she believes the truth is more important than some heritage marking), & her physical arm, (how can this one be bad? Either remove her arm to save her life or let her die? How about take my arm!). Needless to say, I’m very excited for the next installation of Dragon Age, even if it doesn’t bear the fruit that I hope for. Here’s to possibilities! *and to all Solasmancers*

[thefreckledone]

shadow of your heart

a sequel to [falling star]

“Quit that incessant pacing girl. The delegation won’t get here any faster with you paving a path in the carpet,” Tsunade says, smile belying her words.

Sakura pauses, looks around, and flushes, ducking her head. “Sorry shishou,” she says quietly, unable to keep from curling her toes with worry. “It’s just…we haven’t seen each other in years.”

“You exchange letters every week, oftentimes on a daily basis,” Tsunade says, standing from her desk and pulling her anxious student into a warm embrace. “You know each other just fine.”

“But, but—”

“New D-ranked mission for you,” Tsunade says, railroading Sakura’s spiking apprehension. “Join Izumo and Kotetsu at the gate for watch.” She smiles and her eyes are pure wickedness. “The Sunagakure delegation will need a guide.”

Sakura barely has a moment to open her mouth in protest before she finds herself maneuvered outside, staring at Tsunade’s closed and sealed door. Sakura pouts for a moment and crosses her arms. “See if I help you with the Council next week,” she mutters as she meanders her way toward the gate.

Despite her best efforts, Sakura finds her gut begin to churn with a mixture of excitement and fear. She hasn’t felt this way since the Forest of Death and she doesn’t appreciate it in the least. It’s just…they haven’t seen each other face to face in two years. True, they’ve written letters but Sakura finds it a paltry substitute for flesh and bone.

What if he’s changed?

What if she’s changed?

What if he doesn’t want to be friends anymore?

Sakura pushes this thought away, stuffing down into that dark place her mind wanders late at night. It’s the place that questions her worth, her career, her very being. It’s the place that knows how unworthy she is of her friends, that tells her to hide, hide, hide. Sakura swallows back against the bitter taste in her mouth, focusing instead on the last letter she received.

He’s excited to be coming. He wants to see the greenhouse she planted and see the constellations that hang differently over Konoha.

He wants to be here.

“Ah Sakura-chan, here to relieve us?” Kotetsu asks, perking up in his seat.

“Join you, more like,” Sakura replies as she slides into the open seat beside Izumo. “Tsunade-shishou has tasked me with guiding the Suna delegation to the Tower.”

Sakura misses the way Izumo and Kotetsu exchange knowing glances.

“Ah yes, quite the task,” Izumo says in a lilting tone.

“It is a well-hidden building,” Kotetsu says.

Sakura squints at the two of them, trying to figure out their angle. Finally, she shrugs it off, deciding that it really isn’t worth her time. She zones out for a while, watching the tree line move in the breeze as Izumo and Kotetsu’s banter washes over her like white noise. She startles when a flare of chakra pierces her senses. Her eyes snap in the direction of the chakra signature, though no one is in sight.

She knows that signature.

Sakura stands, heedless of Kotetsu and Izumo as she makes her way past the gates, following the beacon that she is certain is just for her. Sakura crests the hill and sees the entourage splayed out before her.

One thing is for certain, Suna knows how to travel in style.

The group is dressed resplendently in long, billowy robes done up in deep, rich tones. At the helm of the group is Temari, moving along in confident, swaggering strides. Behind her though…

Sakura’s breath catches in her chest.

Gaara is swamped by green robes that trail a bit behind him. The Kage hat is tilted precariously upon his head and it is apparent how out of his depth he feels in the trappings and prestige of his newly minted position.

Still, he is Gaara and Sakura cannot contain the smile that breaks across her face.

He looks up and Sakura can breathe again as their eyes connect.

“Sakura,” he says and he is smiling and he is real and suddenly he is right in front of her, the slithering sound of sand telling her how he got to her so quickly. There is something warm and liquid in his eyes as he looks at her and Sakura realizes with a jolt that they are of a height now. He sticks out his hand, determination written on his face. “Hello. It is good to see you.”

The words are practiced, Sakura can tell, yet still so stilted. Sakura feels something squeeze in her chest as she takes in the furrow between his brows and the rigidity of his offered hand.

He is trying so hard for her.

Sakura grabs his hand and shakes it for a moment, smiling so hard that her face aches. She uses her momentum to pull him in for a hug, grunting when her forehead collides with his hat.

Sakura pulls away, still holding his hand and looks at him. Gaara glares up at his hat with such consternation that Sakura cannot keep from giggling. “I’ve missed you,” she says, intending it to sound light. Instead it comes out raw and true and it doesn’t even make sense because they’ve only been face-to-face for two weeks’ time and only a smattering of days spent together as friends. Yet, it is the soul-searing, bone-aching truth. He knows her, perhaps as well as or even better than Ino at this point.

His eyes lighten. “I’ve missed you too. Letters are nice, but I find I like your physical presence more.”

“Smooth, Gaara.”

Sakura nearly jumps out of her skin, dropping Gaara’s hand and looking to the interloper. Kankuro stands before them and the entourage, a smirk lighting his face. Considering that he once feared his brother with good reason, Sakura finds this a massive improvement.

“I apologize,” Sakura says, face warm. “Tsunade-shishou sent me ahead to greet you all and lead you to the Tower. If you’d follow me?”

“So you work for the Hokage?” one of the group asks, who, by the looks of him, must be a council member.

Sakura sketches a slight bow. “I am Haruno Sakura, apprentice to the Fifth Hokage, Senju Tsunade. I sincerely apologize for my unprofessionalism.”

The man regards her with keen interest in a way that makes her uncomfortable.

“It’s fine!” Temari exclaims, effectively deflating the tension as she claps Sakura on the shoulder. “You mentioned leading us to the Tower? Gaara told us that there is a barbeque restaurant in Konoha that you consider a must for any visitor. Any chance you’ll take us by later?”

“Of course,” Sakura replies, thanking Temari with her eyes for the efficient distraction. Truly, Temari would make a wonderful diplomat if she chose that route. “Follow me, please.”

Sakura feels awkward and unwieldy as she guides the train through the gates, finding herself uncertain of how she should walk or how she should move her hands. She certainly feels her age, a mere handful of years, as she guides the prestigious group to the Tower. Her neck and face are warm, but she manages to lead the group into Tsunade’s office.

Tsunade nods at her, indicating that she should take her place behind her. Sakura folds her arms behind her back, listening with half an ear as the proceedings begin. She’s heard it all already, hell, she was part of the drafting and revising of the new treaty. After the disastrous chunin exams, their last treaty was broken and, in the chaos of losing so many people including the Hokage, a new one hadn’t been drafted.

They survived on grace and unspoken rules but now that there is an established Kazekage, it is time to renew their written treaty.

Which leads to today and Gaara’s visit.

Sakura glances over the group, flushing as she meets Gaara’s eyes. His lips quirk up at the corners and Sakura hastily looks away, praying her face isn’t as red as it feels.

As she waits for her face to cool, the talk ceases and Sakura snaps to attention.

“Sakura,” Tsunade says and her voice is full of amusement. “Will you lead the delegates to the ambassador suites? Staff will be able to provide amenities from there. We will reconvene in the morning to begin discussions.” She stands and her eyes are whiskey warm. “I thank you all for traveling so far. This venture is pivotal to the future of both our countries.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama,” Gaara says. Sakura blinks. His voice is strong and confident in a way she hasn’t yet heard. “I am grateful for your forgiveness of our past follies. Our countries will emerge from this stronger and safer.”

Pride fills Sakura’s chest as the Kages bow to one another, certain that their alliance will come out of this stronger than before. Sakura quietly takes a position by the door and waits as the politicians prance and preen and prattle a bit, knowing it is all part of the game they play.

Sakura is relieved to see a slight furrow between Gaara’s brows. At least he hasn’t changed too much.

When the posturing becomes too much for both Kages, Sakura and Temari begin subtly maneuvering the envoys out the door and Sakura again marvels at Temari’s skills. They manage to make the walk through Konoha without too much hassle, though at the end Sakura is exhausted. Directing councilors is like herding cats, which were aptly chosen as the Uchiha familiar.

“Thank you,” Sakura says, slumping against the post outside the embassy.

“Don’t worry about it,” Temari replies. “I picked up the skill running around on dad’s coattails through the years. He always enjoyed watching me maneuver the councilors. Always said I’d make a good—” She cuts off, expression pained.

Sakura files that bit of information away, knowing that Temari didn’t intend to share that much. “I’m sure you’re in the mood to rest,” Sakura says, graciously avoiding the inadvertent confession. “Were your quarters satisfactory?”

“They were great,” Temari says. “I actually was wondering if you could provide me with some information. I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh?” Sakura replies, taking in the flush on Temari’s cheeks. “Do you have a name?”

“It’s the girl I fought in the chunin exams,” Temari replies, fidgeting slightly. “Tenten, I think?”

Sakura’s eyes go wide. Oh. “Of course,” she says, recovering quickly. “You aren’t planning on demanding a rematch, are you?”

“No, no,” Temari says. “I just wanted to…apologize for my actions during the exam and thank her for what she said…after.” There’s a story there but Sakura doubts she’ll hear it today. “She’s really kind and I wanted to follow up with her.” She looks at Sakura and there’s something vulnerable in her gaze. “Do you think she’ll be angry?”

Sakura thinks on that, on Tenten’s almost unending pool of patience when dealing with her teammates. She smiles. “I think it’ll be fine. Her team trains at Training Ground Eleven. If you hurry you’ll catch them before they break for the evening.”

Temari’s smile is a breathtaking thing as she sweeps Sakura up in a hug before bounding off down the road.

“That was kind.”

Sakura jumps, looking up into Gaara’s expressionless face. She honestly cannot tell if he is happy or upset with her. “Gaara, what’s wrong?”

His lips pull down momentarily before he says, “You still haven’t hugged me.”

Sakura swallows a laugh, instead straightening up and grabbing his hand. “Well I should rectify that then, shouldn’t I?”

She pulls his hat away and wraps her arms around him. He has grown and his shoulder is now the perfect perch for her chin. Something is off, however. Sakura frowns, pulling away slightly. Gaara’s arms hang limply at his sides, though his fingers twitch as if he wishes to return her hug. Sakura grabs his hands and tugs them to rest at her back. She’s sure they look like a pair of fools and damn if she can’t keep grinning like one.

Still, as she sinks back into the hug, she finds it offers a shelter, a haven, she never expected.

“I missed you, Gaara,” Sakura says against his ear.

He stiffens slightly but his breath is warm against the shell of her ear as he says, “I missed you too.”

They stand there for a long time, just basking in each other’s presence. Sakura finally breaks the hug, realizing Gaara will not. “So,” she says, clapping her hands together. “How about we grab some dinner?”

Gaara nods and there is a lost look about him that draws Sakura in She scrutinizes him for a moment. “Actually, it may be smart for you to change first. Don’t want you getting mobbed on your first day here.”

“My sand is more than enough defense for any attack against you or myself,” Gaara says and his expression is thunderous.

“It’s an expression!” Sakura replies. “No one is going to mob you though they may crowd around you because they want to know more about you. People are curious about the Kages. Haven’t you experienced something similar in Suna?”

He shakes his head, still tense and Sakura’s heart breaks anew for him. “Well,” she says, “tonight we’re going to have fun. Grab some dinner, stop by the greenhouse, and watch the stars. Sound good?”

“Amazing,” he replies and his gaze is intent as he stares at her.

“Go get ready,” Sakura says, glad when he turns away so she can press her cold hands to her cheeks.

A few minutes later Gaara returns, dressed in dark attire. The gourd is still firmly attached to his back and, after her offhand comment about mobs, she doubts he’ll part with it all night.

“Have you heard of a place called Ichiraku?”

“Just a little further,” Sakura says, leading Gaara by the hand. “Our greenhouses aren’t as nice as Suna’s. Tsunade-shishou put me in charge of the development. She and Shizune are in charge of the one at the hospital but this one is my personal project.”

“It is wonderful.” His tone brooks no argument.

“You haven’t even seen it yet!” Sakura says through a fit of giggles. She hasn’t felt this light and carefree in quite some time. Gaara brings out the child in her.

“Regardless,” he says, hand curling more firmly around hers.

“Here it is,” Sakura says, tapping her free hand against the door.

Her chakra streams free from her hand in veins along the glass panes. In the moonlight, it appears ethereal. With a soft push, the door to the greenhouse is open and they are submerged in a veritable forest.

Sakura lets go of his hand, moving to groom her bonsai plants, knowing that they are the fussiest of her plants. She works at them as she watches Gaara move through the greenhouse, his face soft and open. There’s something magical between the silence and the full moon bearing down upon them and Sakura doesn’t wish to be the first to break it.

Still, as she finishes tending the bonsais, Sakura sidles up beside Gaara and guides him over to her succulents. “These are the ones you sent me,” Sakura says, voice barely more than a whisper. “They’re crossbreeding magnificently.” She brushes the top of one covered in fuchsia flowers.

“Sakura, have you kissed?”

Sakura jumps, barely feeling the sting as her hand clenches around the cactus. Gaara makes a noise, pulling her hand away from the cactus and meticulously removing the prickles from her hand. Her hand lights with chakra and the cuts fade away.

“W-what’d you ask?” Sakura says, flustered. She sets the cactus down, petting it apologetically.

“Have you kissed?” He is calm and his gaze is steady as he watches her. His expression puckers in confusion. “Kankuro said it is something you do with someone you like.”

“I haven’t kissed,” Sakura replies, glad for the lack of adequate lighting. Her face is hot. “H-have you?”

“I haven’t,” Gaara says. “There is no one I like except you.”

Sakura swallows. “Are you asking to kiss me, Gaara?”

He is silent for a few, painfully long moments. “Yes.” His voice is so quiet, Sakura must lean closer. “Do you wish to kiss me?”

Sakura ponders for a moment, biting at her lip. Does she? Her heart pounds and her hands are clammy. “Yes.” Her voice is equally as quiet and tentative.

Gaara exhales and it rattles free of his chest in such a way that Sakura realizes he has been holding his breath expectantly. Something in her relaxes and she says, “Yes,” once more, confident now.

Sakura moves closer to him, balancing a hand against his shoulder. She cannot really make out his features well in the moonlight but his eyes shine an almost otherworldly green. They lean in at the same time and Sakura can feel his breath on her lips. Her lips part just as they bump foreheads. They pull apart, eyes wide and mouths agape. Sakura isn’t sure which of them starts but they begin to laugh, the nervousness and anxiety fleeing in the face of their humor.

Sakura presses her head into his shoulder, breathless from all the giggles. Sakura catches her breath and stands up straight. Their eyes lock and Sakura finds her breath has fled her once more and her anxiety remains absent as well. This time Gaara leans in, shifting his head slightly, and then his lips are pressed against hers.

It is an interesting sensation. His lips are dry and warm over hers, but something about the kiss feels awkward. Sakura adjusts her head, startled as his lips move pliantly along with hers. A frisson of giddiness travels down her spine as Sakura presses into the kiss, taking her time to enjoy the sensations.

They pull away from each other, breathless and panting as they stare at one another with wide eyes.

“That was…” she begins, before shaking her head.

“Much better than Kankuro described,” Gaara says and his smile is warm and inviting.

They contemplate each other for a moment and Sakura is relieved to find that their relationship isn’t irrevocably altered. He is still her friend. Sakura takes his hand in hers and starts heading for the exit.

“You ready to see the stars?” she asks.

“As long as I’m with you,” he replies as they head out into the night.

[63824peace]

Friday, 7th of october 2005

I saw posters and panel advertisements for the International Film Festival when I descended onto the platform at Roppongi station. This marks the eighteenth Tokyo International Film Festival. The poster design hasn't changed a bit. Every year it’s: MOOOOOOOOOOOVIE!!

When I look at the poster I compulsively count the number of O's in the elongated word MOVIE. There are eleven O's. It's the same as always. The constancy relieves me. I suspected them of adding another O each year, but they are too busy for silly jokes like that.

We feel the transitions between seasons variously. We notice the usual changes in temperature and the crisping of the leaves, yet we have other ways of knowing that the year is passing. Our ancestors and contemporaries prepare cultural events that communicate their sense of the seasons. Here is proof that humanity can express the spirit of autumn alongside nature.

The Tokyo International Film Festival has become one of our autumnal signs, as well as the athletic and cultural festivals in the schools.

I wonder if I will finally be able to attend the Tokyo International Film Festival this year. I am eager to watch Park Chan-wook's film Sympathy for Lady Vengeance. It's the final installment in the Vengeance trilogy. I met Director Chan-wook in Korea during February's filming. I wonder if he will attend the festival in Japan.

I'm also excited to watch Nick Park's latest, Wallace & Gromit: the Curse of the Were-Rabbit! I'm a huge fan of Wallace and Gromit.

I want to see Night Watch at the Tokyo Fanta.

In the train I saw a hanging poster-advertisement for SPA! magazine. The text on the ad read: "Men in your twenties and thirties, will this be you in ten years? 57% will be clinging to their company… 69% will suffer failing health."

I am so bothered by the implications of this headline. I can't think of anything else. Yesterday I actually bought the recent issue of "SPA!" at the Nasu-Shiobara station.

The front page article concerns itself with corporate men in their twenties and thirties who live without personal dreams. All of the article's information was gathered through polls and questionnaires though, so the poster-ad's key phrase "in ten years" makes more sense.

Everyone feels anxious about the future and where their lives are headed. That's OK. I was disturbed by the train advertisement because of the implied self-absorption. "Will this be YOU…?" As individuals we worry for the future. More importantly we should worry about the future of our society and of the larger world.

My generation cared about these larger issues when we were in our twenties and thirties. Will the Earth exist in ten years? Will we suffer war? What about the twin threats of meteorites and aliens? Perhaps viral disease will erase humanity?

One of modern civilization's hallmarks is easy access to hot water. We have it in most of our homes now. How long will this level of civilization hold? We live bordered by anxieties. Menaces are everywhere: war, pollution, radiation poisoning, environmental destruction… even aliens.

Even though it is natural for us to care about personal futures, we must also consider the society among whom we live. We have no future without society. We shall remain unhappy unless we achieve an organized peace.

What will the world look like in ten years? What about our nation and society? Everyone shares a common stake here. Our future depends upon our answers to these questions.

Terrorism and civil wars consume us. Blood and lunacy overwhelm human order. We court the ideals of national and emotional security when we should concern ourselves with political and personal inner peace. We don't work toward nuclear disarmament and anti-war diplomacy; we fetishize emergency responsiveness. Does anyone consider the panorama that exists beyond the blinders of "our personal futures"? Who can claim a personal future without creating society's future in the process?

The advertisement terrified me. Twenties and thirties… where will you be in ten years…

My wife stopped me as I left home this morning. "It will be warm today," she said. I took her at her word and left without a jacket. God, it's cold! So cold!

Tokyo is not usually as cold as the northern regions, but the climate here is just like Nasu's. I only wore a long-sleeve shirt today. My heart feels vacant and my mind feels scored… it isn't a good time for my body to feel cold.

I must identify with the inner character of my location. I need to become intimate with the coldness; I must love it. If I cannot bond myself to my context, I cannot bind myself to my presence. Yesterday's training will have been wasted.

I considered buying a shirt at the Hills but I didn't have time. I still felt cold, so I pulled on a MGS2 T-shirt that I found in my work booth beneath my long-sleeved T-shirts. It smelled a little weird, so I tried perfuming myself. Now my work booth smells rank.

At lunch I had Rigatonni with cream and bacon at the Italian restaurant Piatto Piatto. I visited the bookstore afterwards but nothing caught my eye.

I checked the video sequences for the Existence disc. I reviewed everything left on the roll of film, and then I started from the beginning and worked to the end. I gave it to the staff that synthesizes the final mix.

The whole video lasts three and a half hours. I can't change this. It has to be this way. My adjustments on the length of the film make a little trouble for the sound designer. My stress has infected Mrs. Yamanaka, too.

I attended the unveiling of new technology. When new console technology is in development our work methods are inevitably interrupted, redirected, interrupted again, and so on. When new technology is revealed, new problems arise in our work methods. The cost in labor and time increases, but that cannot be avoided.

That is not the real trouble. The clarity of detail and specificity in images has been augmented. We need to figure out what to do about the fragments and elements to which we haven't paid much attention until now. We need to work this out as soon as possible.

The imagistic world that we create using CG requires more intense attention and detail. If we do not care for these nuances then we will discover that some less detailed images stand out. They will appear incongruous against the whole work.

Let me give an example. In MGS3 I asked the voice actors to use their talent fully when delivering their lines. I didn't consign them to synchronizing their delivery with visual images. I next asked the motion capture actors to learn the timing and delivery of the voice actors' performances before we filmed the motion capture scenes.

When we make a storyboard the character models are made from scratch. We use Shin-chan's drawings for reference. After we decide on a given scene's camera angle, we work through the characters' facial expressions.

We have chosen our method of narrative development in order to make evident the superior qualities of our voice actors (such as Akio Otsuka who plays Snake). This is how we have chosen to cultivate our energies. We created the cast for our mold by blending digital media's unique design elements with our best talents: our voice actors, our visual artists, and our motion capture actors. We wrapped the digital skin of virtual reality around the living heart and muscle of our talents. This is how we created the Metal Gear Solid universe.

Our work method will be difficult to preserve when we move to the next generation consoles. Physical forms and facial expressions will need to appear in-game exactly as they appear in reality. We will need to rely upon one single actor for our four main ingredients: facial model and texture, motion acting, facial expressions, and vocal performance. I'll also need to worry more about the adaptation from a Japanese language version into English. Facial and vocal expressions always differ between the two. I will need to prioritize either the English or the Japanese version if I make my games like a movie, with subtitles and voice dubbing. I will need to develop the game to its best form within the context of only one language.

I have always approached MGS with the attitude that I am emulating reality from a distance. Each character is a collage of many different people. One lends his voice, another his facial expressions, another his body movements, and still another his character design ideas. Each character has been the composite of each person's best qualities. Future game development will require one actor's voice, facial expressions, performance, and embodiment of character design. As in a movie, we will only be able to use one actor per character.

I won't allow MGS to turn into something so conventional and unimaginative. I'll develop a better method. That's a game designer's job.

I received a gift from a close friend tonight. It will no doubt comfort me when I am lonely. I'm fine… I'm really alright. No one needs to worry. I can no longer depend upon kindness from others. This is my life, and I am the only man living it.

I drank a few glasses of wine with Murashu at his regular bar last night. We discussed the future of HIDEOBLOG.

I begin writing every blog entry in the morning. I finish writing retrospectively at home. I proofread what I wrote the previous day on the following morning, amend the text if necessary, then give it to the webmaster.

It is important that I continue writing this blog. Last year's Kojima Diary started and stopped on the same day. I don't want to repeat that, but I am tired.

That is why I have called upon Murashu. I explained the blog's significance to him. Unlike me, he should be able to handle the work. He will step up as my pinch hitter.

Murashu's blog titled Murashu Trek will begin next Tuesday. I may not continue HIDEOBLOG.

Murashu and I parted as midnight brought us across Thursday's threshold into Friday. Rain beat down upon my umbrella. Cars choked the streets. In the time that it took for me to hail a cab, I could have listened to a whole CD. The rain crashed down. The cab's windshield wipers slapped epileptically back and forth. Even so, water sheathed the windshield into a total cataract. It was almost like a full blown storm.

The driver and I didn't know each other, and we were stuck together inside the car. I didn't even know his name. I felt anxious. I tried to focus myself on the energy wavelengths around me, but I couldn't blend myself into the tidal undulations.

I saw that the television show 24 was on when I arrived home. This may be the final HIDEOBLOG. Is this good enough for my public 24 hours?

Behold a day in the life of a game designer. This is my blog.

[alittlebitofpersonality]

aLBoP is not MBTI

Hey, it’s Justin!  So…this post has words in it.  It’s written with words.  I’m typing words right now, with the strange expectation that words can communicate thoughts and ideas.  It’s odd, and it hasn’t seemed to work very well so far.  Yet maybe, there’s a faint chance that typing a few more words might be able to communicate something to somebody.

A Little Bit of Personality is not Myers-Briggs Type Indicator.  We say so right there in the intro video…and in lots of posts on here, posts with words.  We started there, as we’ve said before, because we were just having fun and we, like so many, presumed that MBTI was a reliable, scientific system.  Yet as we’ve said before, we gradually came to see more and more ways in which MBTI is inconsistent, in which it does not work, in which it encourages and even relies on stereotypes and superficial simplifications of people.  And what was worse, we started to see that many, many people apparently wanted those stereotypes and simplifications.

We started to see how much “personality typing” was used as a petty weapon in infantile campaigns to put down anyone whose mind worked differently.  We cringed more and more whenever we saw four-by-four grids that listed insultingly shallow sets of qualities for each of the sixteen types, and which portrayed some types as clearly better, smarter, more reliable, more successful, more creative, more visionary, more concrete, more compassionate, more practical, or simply of greater worth and value than the others.  Personality typing had become a shallow and subjective mudfight through which people tried to compensate for their own unresolved personal insecurities by putting down others who made them feel inadequate.  Apparently, there are a lot of second-graders online who are quite skilled at writing up passive-aggressive four-by-four grids.

So we went back to the beginning, because we knew there was so much good here!  We, like so many of you guys, had gotten excited about personality typing for a reason.  It was exciting to see how our minds worked, and how others’ minds did too.  It was so cool to try to figure out the personality types of fictional characters, or of historical figures or celebrities we liked.  But now that we had seen how personality typing had become such a putrid and subjective cesspool, we had to go back to the basics to figure out what was good and what was brain-damaging.

We’ve talked about this before, in several posts that use words.  We’ve described how a clarification of basic definitions is one of the first indispensable steps in any effort to replace subjectivity with objectivity.  We’ve talked about how we didn’t have to throw out the baby with the poisonous bathwater, and so we were able to use the brilliant original work done by Carl Jung and by Katharine Cook Briggs and her daughter Isabel Briggs Myers (all of whom died long before the internet), without the simplified dangers of modern MBTI.  On aLBoP Phase 2, we go into far greater depth about our scientific process, how we were able to clarify definitions that made Cognitive Typing into a reliable and repeatable hard science, rather than a subjective and dubious soft-science.  But all those posts use words, words that invite you guys to see “Hey wait, this is different. This isn’t what I thought I already knew.”

A Little Bit of Personality is part of a larger endeavor, which we call our “Twenty-Five Year Plan,” a plan to simply help make life better for as many people as we can.  As I’m writing today, we’re a bit more than eleven years in, on the fourth of eight stages.  This is all stuff that’s explained in depth on the full Phase 2 site.  It’s really exciting to us, and though we did not initially expect to use Cognitive Typing or anything like it as a tool in this plan, aLBoP has become a powerful way for us to reach and help so many awesome people!  Yet originally, we didn’t plan to have Phase 2 be a separate website; we were just going to put all the information right here on one site, for all the internet to see.  We’re very glad now that we didn’t.

There is nothing secret on any of our sites, and all the information on all three of our sites (Phase 1 here, Phase 2 Intro, and full Phase 2) is all completely free of charge.  But we realized that we had to separate our content into multiple sites when we saw the bizarre and aggressively cruel reactions of so many people to even the comparatively basic concepts of Cognitive Typing.  I’m not referring to insightful and engaging questions; for instance, a lot of cool people have asked very good questions, like “How do you have a large enough sample size to make sure your conclusions are accurate?” “Why don’t you submit to scientific journals?” “What exactly is your experimental process?” etc.  Those sorts of thoughtful questions are the sort of thing that we’ve had to save for the later websites, because we realized that even the introductory information here on Phase 1 seems to be far too much for some people to read.  Too many words.

We wanted an engaging and active forum where we could talk back and forth with people, instead of only posting articles on a website, but it soon became clear that if we went ahead and put a forum here on Phase 1, open to the internet, then any potential discussion would be buried under arrogant assertions and bitter argument.  In fact, when we started a forum on Phase 2, it was astonishing how rapidly that happened, how quickly it became a toxic atmosphere where thoughtful, intelligent people grew ever more wary to post anything.  If we didn’t do something, our forum was going to become yet another place on the internet where the discourse was dominated by the bone-headedly obnoxious.

As I’m writing this, I have an online game open in the background, where one of my characters is happily crafting food for me.  But I usually play most games with the general chat channels turned off, because while there are a lot of sweet and helpful people in a lot of games, the general chat channels tend to get dominated by the least common denominator.  When we first started our Phase 2 forum, some people were convinced that it couldn’t possibly be any different from anywhere else on the internet, calling us naive for trying to create a place online where people could feel safe to freely share ideas, where the thoughtful majority didn’t have to remain silent or risk setting off the irrational blowhards.  Yet now, on the full Phase 2 site, we have an awesome and active realtime chat forum where everyone feels safe to think, to work through problems, to discuss ideas, to share their lives and make precious friendships.  I’m actually making them wait right now while I write this, but Calise and I thought that this little post was worth taking the time for.  Yet that forum would have been impossible if we hadn’t first created a safe place insulated from the wild, aggressively-asserted opinions and jaw-dropping simplifications on the internet.

We wanted to put all of it on one website, and perhaps we could have, were it not for the apparent fact that the current culture of the internet trains us not to read.  Trains us not to think.  Not to stop and digest.  Not to sit back and make sure we understand things before moving on.  And it certainly seems to train people to post comments before, you know, reading.  We wanted to do videos as well as posts, and we did make a few before moving them away to Phase 2.  We wanted to do podcasts, which are a ton of fun but we only do them for Phase 2.  This is not meant to be an advertisement for Phase 2 (especially because we are very, very, very behind on responding to Phase 2 invites, really sorry about that!), but rather a challenge to read what’s here on Phase 1.  If people can’t do that, then how could they possibly read more anyway?

It’s gotten to the point that I wasn’t sure I should even take the time to write this, because I wondered who would read it?  Not that we don’t have plenty of traffic, but I wondered how many people would do more than skim.  One of our closest friends, whom we met through aLBoP, told us that when he first stumbled across Phase 1, it was a real shock to him because he had to slow down to really understand it all.  He told us that he had grown accustomed to being able to skim most things online, that most articles were fairly simple ideas expressed in way too many words, so he’d gotten used to skimming.  But with aLBoP, he had to seriously re-adjust his expectations; he had to take time and think about the content.  Another of our friends, upon reading the first Super Simple Series post, said “That’s not simple at all!”  We’ve done our best, heh, and we hope that it really is pretty simple and straightforward, but it is also new stuff, not just the same old familiar repetition, so it can’t be simply skimmed.

A couple weeks ago, someone walked up to me and declared that I was an INFP.  I tried to be diplomatic and inviting, telling him that I’d be interested to hear what made him say so, and I asked what definitions of the letters he was using.  He seemed confused and a bit bothered by the question, and said he was just using MBTI.  I still don’t know what made him think that he could so confidently assert someone else’s type like that.  Of course, on aLBoP we do quite confidently assert the Cognitive Types of both real and fictional people, but we can only do so as a result of using concrete, clear definitions that leave no subjective wiggle-room.  There’s no uncertainty about whether someone is a Cognitive Introvert or Extravert; the definitions are very clear, they leave no room for fudging or gray areas, yet they are also not the same soft and elastic definitions of current MBTI.  We have said so, over and over, using words.  And yet we still get comments by people unilaterally asserting “Nope, you typed that character wrong,” based on definitions that we are not using, definitions we cannot use for reasons that we have explained repeatedly.

The problem is in the assertiveness, the astounding certainty with which people treat their own points of view as objective fact.  There’s nothing wrong with asking questions, with re-examining and re-questioning over and over, with constantly re-checking and revisiting even the things that seem the most well established.  Sometimes you might find a mistake, like the time on the Phase 2 Typing Library, when I accidentally put ESTP(ep) Usain Bolt on the library pages for two different Cognitive Types because his picture had somehow got copied over into the wrong folder.  Just this morning, someone pointed out a typo where I had said “our” when I meant “or.”  And we get so many sweet comments where people ask questions rather than assert opinions as fact.  “Why did you type Gandalf as an F instead of a T?” shows a mind that wants to think, to understand, to hear feedback and decide whether or not it makes sense.  Yet when someone flippantly comments “No, Gandalf is INTJ like me,” then that shows such a closed unwillingness to question or examine one’s own point of view.  No wonder current politics are such a nasty echo-chamber.

So when people assertively tell us “I’m an ENTJ,” “I’m a Ne dom,” etc, it makes us wonder if they’ve really read much of anything before commenting.  We do not use the simplistic “dom” system because it turned out to be tremendously subjective, with apparent “dominance” depending far too much on potentially cherry-picked factors that are all too easily used to weigh the result toward a preferred conclusion.  As someone once said to us, and as we’ve quoted before, “Personality typing is just horoscopes for people who think they’re too smart for horoscopes.”  In other words, it’s all subjective fluff that can be applied equally well to anyone, of any type, as long as people are eager to adolescently define themselves in a way that parodies the real work of finding oneself.

But then, as soon as we mention that, we get sincere comments telling us that astrology is real too.  Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not; personally, I have seen many, many reasons to believe it is not accurate or reliable in any fashion, while I have not yet seen anything to suggest the contrary, so far.  Yet I have to wonder: what makes someone feel equipped to say that astrology definitively does work, or does not?  As soon as we start treating our own personal experiences as universal truths, as soon as we start treating our own opinions as objective facts, and as soon as we make the incredibly self-centered error of saying “I have no experience of such-and-such, therefore it’s crap,” then we shut off our ability to think, to learn, to approach anything in any sort of rational manner.  That quote about personality typing being mere horoscopes in disguise, displays its own form of narrow and lazy thinking, by asserting that all “personality typing” is this way, painting life with such a broad brush.  It’s this sort of simplistic thinking that leads to racism, sexism, or any other form of prejudice, that says “I’ve seen dumb religions, therefore all religions are dumb,” “I’ve known vile men, therefore all men are vile,” “I only hang around with dishonest people…and I am one myself…therefore nobody is honest,” etc.  It’s a lazy and anecdotal simplification of the complexities of people’s lives, hearts, and hopes.  It’s mean.

But just because the internet trains us to make everything simplistic and skimmable, just because the current online culture trains us to view our own personal opinions as objective fact, that doesn’t make it our fault.  We can learn to see outside our own points of view.  We can learn to recognize the powerful lenses of emotion, pain, and desire which skew and distort how we see every experience that happens to us.  We can explore just how not objective we are, and then learn to grow past that subjective isolation.

This is why Calise and I have had to de-prioritize Phase 1 for a long time, though.  We’ve been working feverishly, constantly, but most of it has not been here on Phase 1.  We did put eight months of work into The People of Stranger Things post, we put so much thought and feeling into it, so much care and planning, for a total of more than fifty thousand words.  There’s a lot of great stuff in there, but it has produced hardly any results.  How can we justify prioritizing the addition of more information here on Phase 1, when people repeatedly show us how little they’ve read of what we’ve already written?

We love our Personalized Typing service, we love seeing people’s faces and hearing about their lives, we love connecting with them, and it’s a great way to find thoughtful, good, decent people.  And yet, over and over, it’s an uphill battle to remind people who order typings that we are not MBTI, that we do not use those definitions, as we’ve said so many times in so many posts.  Whenever we send out a typing, we always caution people that if they look up their Cognitive Type online, then they are going to find things that are very different, and likely demeaning and limiting.  And yet we still get replies of people saying “No I can’t be this type, because here’s what MBTI says about it, and that’s not me.”  The Cognitive Orientation Guidebooks, which we package with each typing, spend a fair amount of time explaining and reiterating precisely how each Cognitive Type is different from the popular stereotypes. We really hoped words would get that across.

Yet we know what the internet culture is like, and we know that sometimes we all need to be reminded that it’s okay to slow down and process thoughts instead of living life through reactions.  Sometimes I find it intriguing to hop between news networks as they cover the same story, to see how differently each network portrays the very same events.  Which bits of video do they show, which do they edit out, and which do they repeat endlessly?  Which adjectives and adverbs do they use, to influence viewers’ conclusions?  What information do they focus on, what information do they downplay, and what information do they conveniently fail to mention entirely?  Like the proverbial blind men and the elephant, the same event and the same data can be interpreted in wildly different ways even when people have the most honest of intentions.  So when people are less honest, when people have an agenda, a worldview, an ideology or attitude that they want to push, how much more careful do we have to be before we draw any sort of confident conclusions?

It’s our hope that, by taking a few hours away from other work to write this, maybe this might help nudge aLBoP Phase 1 toward being a site where we can post more information, more Type Heroes, more character spotlights, and just more fun articles.  I’ve been wanting to do an article about Winston Churchill for years now, titled “How an ENFP Saved the World,” because he really did, and yes he was unequivocally an ENFP(ip), but how can I justify taking the time to write that, time I could be giving to other people, when so many readers here on Phase 1 won’t, well, read?  I worry that so many internet skimmers wouldn’t get past the title before firing off comments authoritatively declaring “He wasn’t ENFP!! He was [roll the dice and insert any number of different types here]!”  We owe Gwen and Phil 20 bucks, since someone did indeed leave a comment (one of the many that we decided to leave unapproved) assertively stating that, because Lord Shen has a grand vision, he is therefore INTJ.  Wow.  So that’s how we’re defining these complex variables of human thought and desire, now?  And so none of the other fifteen Cognitive approaches to life can have a grand vision?  Seriously?  Sorry Elon Musk, no ENFJ(ij) for you, you gotta be INTJ I guess.  The all-knowing internet decrees it thus.

We really hoped, and I still do hope, that by bringing the subject of Subtypes here to Phase 1, it would be a quick way to immediately show people “Hey look, see those two little letters in parentheses?  Then maybe, just perhaps, this is something a little bit different from what you’re already used to.”  We hoped that would help the Personalized Typing service more easily show people “Hey this isn’t just MBTI, see?  We’re giving you six letters, not just four.”  There are actually more than six letters, more than eight; it seems to be a magnificently reiterating fractal of complexity, with each new layer of sub-typing adding ever more clearly definable nuance to the intricacy of consciousness, but we figured that the basic idea of Subtypes was plenty enough for Phase 1 right now.  I worry that even by dangling that little hint of more information, it might lead people to leap to conclusions and simplifications.  Fair enough, but I also hope that this can encourage more of you to read a little more carefully, to ponder a little more than you already do, to consider, to question, to dig deep, to see outside your own point of view and become a voice for understanding instead of adding to the cacophonous chorus of cartoony, rigid simplifications.

TL;DR: aLBoP is not MBTI.  But more accurately, if you really want a “Too Long, Didn’t Read,” then why are you even here?  There are plenty of skimmable websites that will be more than happy to let you simplify people into shallow little subjective boxes.  This is not a blog, though it did start as one over on blogspot, but pretty quickly we realized how much aLBoP could help us find and help cool people, honest and thoughtful people, people who are willing to expend the labor of time and energy to earn what they learn.  That’s the sort of person we love to meet.  That’s the kind of person we love to learn from, exchange ideas with, and see how we can help them add to the world in their own way, in their own life.  That’s what we’re all about.

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