#I cannot go caving by my self in have no gear and you need a group of three to go and

[backpackingspace]

No caving tomorrow :( :( :(

[h3l10tr0p3]

BNHA OVA: Make it! Do or Die Survival Training!

SPOILERS

So, the Class A students are training for their provisional exams and have to operate in an underground mall rescue mission which caved in due to an electric fire. Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Uraraka, Asui (I mean, Tsuyu), Kirishima, Kaminari, Yaoyaorozu, Iida and Tokoyami embark down the site when a secondary disaster seperates them.

The OVA most probably takes place between Deku's visit to Hatsume Mei's Studio and the second scene at Gym Gamma where Deku kicks away a boulder dislodged by Katsuki's AP Shot in his recently updated gear (which he wore in the OVA too). In the OVA, Deku's kicks are also shown to be choppy and he doesnt have precise control over it as he kept falling off the ice-raft when he kicked holes through the ceilings of B6 - B3.

This OVA was filled with student interactions and shippy goodness.

We had IidaMomo, IzuOcha, OchaTsuyu, BakuKami, BakuTodo KiriKami and even a Todoroki × Tokoyami (Todoyami? Tokoroki?) even a rare TodoKami moment! (Todoroki calls Kaminari by his first name, Denki!!)

But at the end of the day, the bkdk feels hit it home.

That's it. THAT'S THE OVA.

What blows my mind is that when the Next big three were at level B6, using the geyser to get up to ground level- Studio BONES could have easily made them shoot up to surface without stopping on B3 and injuring Kacchan.

But they did.

This whole OVA basically revolves around injuring Kacchan and the "Be my cane' dialogue and you caNnoT convince me otherwise.

Now to some it may seem out of character/chronologically dubious for Kacchan to relent to easily to Deku in this OVA considering that this took place before Deku v Kacchan 2, and the OVA clearly states that Aizawa was training the children for the oncoming Provisinal Liscence exams. It was only after Kacchan failed the Provisional exams did DvK2 happen.

But there is a very thin vein of appropriation which makes Kacchan's reaction to accepting Deku's help justified with the time line and it all comes down to Kamino.

Hailed as a championing Kiribaku moment, what is often overlooked in this arc is how Izuku gave up his chance to reach out to Katsuki because he was afraid if it were him, Katsuki would not accept his hand. His anguish is easily overshadowed by the success of the rescue stunt.

Look at Deku in the second gif closely.

In the very last frame, his eyes are shadowed, like he is physically holding in the hurt at seeing how easily Kirishima can reach out to Kacchan again and again in a way Deku is not allowed to.

And it is my belief that Katsuki saw that look.

So, Kamino Arc comes and goes. Students are gearing up for Provisional Exams as shown in the OVA and near the end, there comes a time where Katsuki, injured, clearly needs assistance and this is what Deku says.

"I want to save you too"

Kacchan's response to this is clearly unprecendented, and let's face it soft. Him getting a character development like this before DvK2 when he should be steeping in self-loathing for ending All Might and already suspecting that Deku has AM's power, sounnds a bit far-fetched but consider, obliquely, for one moment that Katsuki knows what Deku feels like.

If Katsuki knows Deku wanted to save him badly back at Kamino, that changes things. It probably hints that Katsuki is aware that Deku relinquished the role of taking his hand to Kirishima fearing he wouldn't take Deku's. Katsuki understands that Deku was deeply hurt by this. So when Deku says "I want to save you too" it's like a callback to Kamino and what he means is -

I want to save you like Kirishima is allowed to do.

Katsuki's "I refuse" and consequent (meme-worthy) "Be my cane" dialogues have a lot more weight than comic relief in that context. He is acknowledging Izuku's help not only as a stepping stone, but also accepting it in a non-personal nature- it's like it is an integral part of his growth that he accepts the only way he knows how to-i.e. on his terms.

But the very act of accepting at this stage of their relationship speaks VOLUMES of how Katsuki percieves Izuku and cares for him beyond his brittle and bruised ego. Because despite the misconception Katsuki holds that Izuku is always looking down on him (right uptil the big fight in DvK2 I might add), Katsuki understands and acknowledges Izuku's hurt at not being the one able to save him. Most importantly,

He sees the anxiety Deku suffers from the mere thought of having lost him again.

By the way, the last time Deku looked even remotely concerned about Kacchan's well-being with such open anxiety on his face looked pretty much like this-

(Yeah...it did not go well)

Add that to the fact that Kacchan probably knows that Deku pushed Kirishima to save him when he blamed himself most (despite having nearly broken his whole fucking skeleton in the process) for not being able to rescue him at the Summer Camp itself.

Kacchan clearly understands the lengths Deku is prepared to go, and will go through again to see him safe and secure. Regardless of what kind of hit his ego takes from Kamino (which is compounded by his failure at the Provisional Exams), being saved by Deku in the wake of these realizations clearly surpasses the need to cling to his own pride in the OVA

And that Alone is a testament to the fact how Katsuki's character has been slowly and surely maturing even before DvK2 which makes him such a well-developed character. He is not completely without empathy Pre-DvK2.

He shows it, but sparingly. He convinces himself that he is saving people like Kirishima, Kaminari, Todoroki and Deku in the OVA because he doesnt 'want to owe it to anybody', but he has already started to internalize this attitude of 'Save to Win' this early in the series.

And the biggest proof in the OVA, of how Katsuki has taken the Kamino experience to heart is when Katsuki persists on the mission to save the dummy despite a secondary disaster complicating their exercise. In a way, It is a catharsis. It is Katsuki's re-enactment of Kamino from Deku's perspective, even if it is to save just one lifeless dummy from debris. He is not going to slack off.

(Funny how, here too, the one needing to be saved was ultimately saved by Kirishima)

He has already started to show (and accept) his dedication to saving as well as winning well before AM gives him the "Save to Win. Win to Save" talk, which cements the vector of his future development in the series.

All things considered, is this OVA a valuable addition to the main story of bnha?

Well, depends on the viewer. It has lots of cool highlight on character dynamics, character focus and fleshes out how the next Big Three seamlessly coordinate with each other. (Also shipping material) However in my humble opinion it seems to make the transition of Kacchan's char development easier for the anime-onlys or the anime-and-movie-onlys, so that the Class Exercise arc doesnt seem like a drastic change in his motivations.

(As if we need any more convincing how in-character it is for Bakugou to want to Save as much as he wants to Win)

[ragingbookdragon]

Accepting What Cannot Be Handled

A/N: My favorite stories to write are the ones where siblings bond over struggles. There’s no better brotherly bonding than Tim and Jason, so enjoy! -Thorne <3 (Explicit Language)

He hadn’t even made it ten feet into the cave when the sound of fists pounding against a bag met his ears. A frown graced his lips as his eyebrows drew in suspicion at whoever was in the cave at two A.M. Jason crept slowly across the floor, turned the corner along the wall, and took in the sight of Tim in his training gear, bent into the bag, arms gripping the sides as if to keep him standing. The suspicion dissipated as mild concern and possible intrigue swept over him, and Jason made his way over, pausing a few feet away, leaning back against a weapons case. “You’re sweating like a whore in a church pew Timberly. Have you taken a break recently?” Tim’s shoulders twitched, showing evidence that he’d not heard Jason come over. Surprising honestly, when Jason didn’t care to hide his movement, he sounded like a bull rampaging through a china shop; it made him smirk, but he narrowed his eyes as Tim stood, curling back into a fighting stance.

           “I don’t need a break. I need to train.” His older brother watched him for a few moments, gaze sharp as he observed, then quipped,

           “You’ve dislocated your middle and ring on your left hand Tim. Your pointer on your right isn’t look so good either.” Tim froze, right hand halting a centimeter from the bag; Jason took it as a gesture to continue. “And you still wrap your hands for shit.” He stood from the weapons case, walking over, gripping Tim’s wrist to look at his hand. “You’ve split three of your knuckles.” Jason dropped his wrist carelessly, eyes moving to stare at him. “You a masochist or something?” Tim’s eyebrows furrowed as he curled his hands into fists as best he could, muttering,

           “I’m fine.” Jason let out a grunt, crossing his arms over his chest.

           “Look nerd-bird, I’m not Dickhead. I’m not gonna sit and hold your hand until you Wonder Woman up and tell me what’s wrong.” Something in Jason’s tone made Tim irked, and he bit out,

           “Then what are you doing? Berating me? Aren’t brothers supposed to support one another?” Jason leaned forward, voice low as he asked,

           “Do you want me to hold your hand and tell you everything is okay Tim?” His younger brother recoiled slightly. “Do you want me to listen to all your problems and work you through them? That all the shit you’ve seen and been through makes you a better person? That your mistakes are never going away? Is that what you want?” Jason waited for Tim to speak, but when he did, it was quiet and filled with self-loathing.

           “I’m just…dealing with some stuff…and I don’t think I can handle it anymore.” He looked up at his brother, baby-blues sorrowful as he murmured, “Jay I don’t know what to do about it.” Tim’s head lowered, gaze dropping to the floor, and for a moment, there was silence, then a warm hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked up, meeting a sincere face; Jason nodded at him, voice full of understanding as he assured,

           “Tim, I’m gonna be real with you for a minute…Accepting that you might not be able to handle something is one of the bravest things you can do. It doesn’t mean you’re weak and it sure as hell doesn’t make you a coward.” Jason moved his hand from Tim’s shoulder, pressing his pointer into Tim’s chest. “The greatest of us learn that sometimes the most important thing isn’t those around us, but the safety and security of ourselves first.” He pushed lightly and Tim swore he felt it in his heart as Jason added, “As for your mistakes…those that learn to accept the wrong they’ve caused and do better are the ones that fair the harsh winds the best.” Jason dropped his hand, giving Tim a firm look. “You’re stronger than what you’re going through Tim…Don’t let it get the better of you…You’ve still got fight in there.” He took a breath, glancing at Tim’s hands. “And your hands are still fucked up so let’s go set your fingers before Dickhead gets here and thinks I did it.” Jason turned, walking off to the med-bay, Tim following and adding,

           “I could always tell him you did. Big brother against big brother. Fight of the century right there.” Jason grunted and threatened,

           “You lie to Dick about what you did to yourself and I’ll stick your head in the toilet and swirly you.” Tim let out a laugh, spirit rising with each step he took.

[reynesofcastamere]

Thrown Gauntlet[Ω]

(A/N: Sooooo....I’ve decided to start another series of fics that I will be marking with [Ω] in the titles: To disinguish them from both the main series (which I am still working on) and the [β] drabbles (which are all over the place in terms of timeline, setting, universe, etc.). Essentially a very self-indulgent AU where Savage, Maul, and Feral all get adopted by Clan Wren. This installment takes place in 20 BBY, so Ahsoka is around 16 and Maul is about 34. However. I want to state outright that the dynamic is intended to be a verrrrry slow build and that nothing romantic and/or sexual will be occurring between Maul and Ahsoka until MUCH later. If what I’ve described does not sound like your personal cup of tea, then by all means, feel free to give this fic and/or series a pass. This is getting a bit long, so to sum up: No trigger warnings, Obi-Wan is an Incurable Flirt, Rex is Flustered, and Maul is about 100% Done With Everyone’s Nonsense. Unbeta’d)  The Jedi Temple is buzzing. Not literally, of course, but Ahsoka can feel a strange vibration in the Force. Excitement, or maybe irritation? There’s definitely quite a bit more whispering amongst her fellow Jedi and the clone troopers she passes on her path to the east hangar. Master Anakin had told her to pack for a long trip, which she can only assume means they’ve been assigned another mission and he’s withholding the details so as to ‘surprise’ her appropriately. Typical Skyguy.

She spots Rex near the door, sans helmet. “Good morning, Captain.” A proper salute, quickly returned, though her tone is light. “Morning, Commander. And-er, yes, it certainly is.” He actually seems to be fidgeting a bit, and his face- “Rex, are you...blushing?” “N-no. No. Just-ah...Finished up my workout routine. Took more out of me than I expected. You know how it is; One day you’re all shiny-new and the next you feel older than General Yoda.” “Reeeeexxxx....Come on, whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

“The Clawbirds arrived about an hour ago. Captain Wren’s refusing to do much of anything until he finishes repairs on General Skywalker’s ship.” Rex caves, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Master Anakin can’t be too happy about that.” Ahsoka observes, knowing just how...particular he is about his personal projects. “Should I be worried?” “Er...maybe? It’s kind of a toss-up. Depends on whether M-” He begins, before a subtler voice cuts in. “Captain, there you are. I was hoping to speak to you.” The speaker is a male Zabrak with soft golden-yellow eyes and skin, the latter of which is liberally patterned in brown markings. Unusual enough, but he’s also clad in full Mandalorian armor, helmet tucked under one arm and carrying what looks like field medic gear along with the standard jetpack and arsenal of weapons. And he’s glowing; a defined Force signature radiating Light and positive energy like a solar lamp. How-? “Medic Sergeant Wren. They are still getting along, right?” “Oh yes. He’s in a much better mood than last time. Apologies, am I interrupting?” “Thank the Maker. And no, um. Commander Tano, this is Medic Sergeant Feral Wren.” Rex looks like he’s in danger of heatstroke with how red he’s gotten. It’s not hard to see why, especially when Feral gives a smile that could melt half the ice on Bahryn. Rather than salute her, he stretches his right hand out so that they can clasp forearms briefly, a greeting from one warrior to another. “It’s a pleasure, Medic Sergeant.” She smiles back. Ahsoka can’t help it. He’s just...She’s fighting the urge to hug him like some kind of stuffed animal toy. Which is bizarre and will most definitely not be happening anytime soon. “Tano...Oh, you must be ‘Snips’. It’s almost a shame Savage volunteered to help the younglings train, we’ve both wanted to meet you for some time now.” Wait, what? “Tranyc’vod [Sunny(star-burned) brother] Anakin hasn’t been able to call as often, but he’s very proud of your accomplishments.” Feral remarks, genuinely pleased even as her head spins with the implications. Her Master has a lot of explaining to do. “Speaking of which, I’d better not keep him waiting much longer. I look forward to talking to you again, though. See you later, Captain. Maybe you should ask the Medic Sergeant about those stamina issues you’re having?” She can’t resist ribbing Rex as she departs, watching him splutter as Feral, like any good medic, starts making inquiries about his ‘condition’ while looking him over. And placing a hand on his chestplate, apparently. Huh. Maybe her friend’s obvious crush isn’t quite as one-sided as she’d thought. Ahsoka navigates her way through the semi-organized rows of ships. Even if Anakin’s presence in the Force wasn’t abnormally strong, she doesn’t need to focus to find him. Not when he’s talking loud enough to be heard across half the hangar. “-last time, it’s fine! You’re just being paranoid, as usual.” “Every ship I have been forced to borrow from you has either crashed, suffered a critical malfunction, or was confined to the scrap heap mere hours after landing. No one is setting a foot on this poorly-constructed death trap until I am absolutely certain it won’t spontaneously combust mid-flight.” And that must be Captain Wren. He sounds...irritated, to say the least.

“My ships run perfectly, thanks. Must hurt that Mando pride, knowing a Jedi is a better pilot and mechanic than you, Captain.” She’s not quite within visual range yet, but she knows her Master is smirking. “How sad that as a Jedi, you cannot recognize your own failings, General. Perhaps you should conduct a survey of your ‘victims’ instead of this poor attempt at distraction. Mir’osik adiik be’kyorla hut’uun![Dung for brains child of (a) rotten coward!]-” “Ouch. What, did one of your horns get caught in the hydraulics?” “Hilarious. Make yourself useful by grabbing a towel, or something from Kenobi’s closet. I’m coming out.” “Ah, Captain Wren. I thought the general ambience had improved. What were you saying about my clothing?” She hadn’t been aware of Master Kenobi’s presence before this. Either he’d used a secondary entrance or had been waiting for his chance to join the exchange while the captain was busy. “Kenobi.”

“Oh come now, surely you can muster a more polite greeting than that. You’ve been away so long I’ve had to listen to recordings just to remember the sound of your lovely voice.” “Perhaps I will address you with respect when you learn to stop leering at me, besom [ill-mannered lout].” “Busted. Again.” “You’re not helping, Anakin.” Ahsoka rounds a corner and-Oh. Wow. How far down do those-? She blinks a few times, just to be sure of what she’s seeing. Yep, there is a very shirtless Zabrak with the kind of muscle definition that would make scores of artists weep standing with his back to her and wiping his face off with a towel. She desperately hopes that her jaw is not hanging open as he turns his head to survey her with one vibrant yellow tourmaline eye. She honestly doesn’t know if she wants to draw closer or back away in that moment. His presence in the Force is not a benevolent, harmless light, but rather a controlled fire that sparks and issues dark threads of smoke. This...Ahsoka doesn’t understand what is going on, and it’s starting to make her uncomfortable. “The spy finally shows herself.” He remarks, assessing and dismissing her as a non-threat within the span of a few seconds, continuing to wipe off whatever type of mess had been spattered on him. “Don’t mind him, Snips. Someone shoved a shock baton up his ass years ago and the medics never found a way to pull it out. Tragic, really.” Anakin Skywalker grins, arms loosely folded across his chest and leaning against the outside of his ship. “Ahsoka, this is Maul. We’ll be working with him and his people for the forseeable future.” It clicks suddenly where she’s heard both his name and that of his group before: Captain Maul of Clan Wren and his company are the only Mandalorian supercommandos who will actually work with the Jedi Council. At least, when they’re not busy with bodyguard or mercenary jobs. Part of that involves what is referred to -with some awe and a lot of fear- as ‘running the gauntlet’, a mandatory training course for any Padawans or Knights posted to or intending to spend a considerable amount of time in the barely-civilized regions of space. It’s been suspended since the war started in earnest, but if they’re going to be sticking around for a while...Well, the implications are pretty serious. And Ahsoka has somehow managed to ogle one of the most infamous hardasses this side of the Mid Rim. Fantastic. Really. Maul disposes of the stained towel and turns to face her properly, Ahsoka’s gaze staying determinedly on his face as they grip each other’s right forearms. He doesn’t pull back after a few seconds as Feral had, hand locking in place as he seems to peer into her soul.  “I will say this once. We are not like our evaar’la vod’e[young brothers]. We are not subservient to you, and I do not accept excuses or blatant disrespect.” A pause and a slight increase in pressure, just below the threshold of inflicting pain. “Are you ready, Ahsoka Tano?” “Yes, Captain.” She answers with a certainty that she can feel in her very bones, and is rewarded with the hint of a wry smile when he lets go. Well that’s...something. Master Kenobi clears his throat pointedly. Right. Mission briefing first. Sort out her feelings later. Still, she can’t help but look forward to whatever comes next. (A/N: *cracks knuckles* Well, that’s the first installment. A little vague on the details, but I’m hoping to elaborate on what’s been hinted at here relatively soon. The name of the supercommando company comes from the Legends novel Maul:Lockdown by Joe Schreiber. And yes, for fellow Rebels fans who are reading this thing: In this AU, Sabine and Tristan get three badass Zabrak-hybrid uncles and a fair amount of adopted cousins. (Which is entirely Savage’s doing.) I do believe that Anakin is a gifted mechanic, but also couldn’t resist the running joke of ‘Skywalker’s ships/anything he tinkers with only work for him and Artoo’. Cheers!) 

[esandcasg]

Chatper 12: The Sound of the Underground

Part 1

We entered the illuminated tunnel, a stunning engineering masterpiece somehow dug into the rock of K2 at over eight thousand meters. I paused and tried to take in my surroundings. What was this place? Asides from the obvious feelings of uncertainty caused by such a discovery, there was something greater that didn’t seem right here. A nagging feeling. I could almost sense the evil drifting along the tunnel and escaping into the Karakoram mountain air.

But clearly Ifan didn’t share my concern. “This way,” he said, as he stormed off down the tunnel, convinced he knew where he was going. It reminded me of the night of Andrew’s wedding. This time I only hoped I wasn’t calling him repeatedly in a few hours and getting his voicemail. I hoped that it was the version of Ifan that we saw in Mallorca, the super hero Ifan who saved our asses when no one else knew where the fuck we were.

Gingerly, I set off after him.

After about one hundred meters we came out in a large cavernous room, much like a few chapters ago. Please refer to that if you want more details. A tall man dressed entirely in black Rab climbing gear stood in the centre, breathing into bottled oxygen.

He turned and faced us.

“I knew you would fail me,” he said, his voice distorted behind his high altitude breathing mask.

Suffering under the effects of high altitude, it took a moment to realise that he was in fact talking to me. He knew who I was. Something flashed in my memory. This room. This figure in front of me. I had been here before, just a few weeks before. Perhaps it was even what caused my injuries…

In recent weeks my mind had been like a swamp, as I tried in vain to drag memories to the surface through some sort of viscous fluid. But seeing this figure triggered something in the depths of my brain; the memories came flooding back. Kangleong. The disaster. The hunt for Craven… For my father.

Finally, the realisation that he was the man who stood before us.

I didn’t have a chance to think what these developments meant before he was on the move, striding over towards us.

“But what have you brought me here?” He asked, approaching Ifan.

He stood in front in him and grabbed his shoulders, as if he was measuring him up. At this close proximity his physical presence was overwhelming. He stood at around six and a half feet, which put him over two feet taller than Ifan.

“My, what an amazing physical specimen,” he said, taking a step back from Ifan. “You’re a little short to be a stormtrooper, but you will do nicely.”

“What is this?” Said Ifan, finally speaking up. The confusion in his voice indicating that he had about as much idea of what was going as I did. There was also an element of fear.

“You will be the source subject for my army.”

“What source subject? What the hell is this?”

Ifan started stepping backwards, towards the tunnel that we’d come in. I knew we should have turned around. I knew it was wedding night Ifan.

In a flash Craven covered the distance to Ifan once again, drawing his ice-axe in the process. He went to strike, but stopped just below Ifan’s chin (so his upper chest).

“You misunderstand, it wasn’t a request. You will join me, or you will meet your destiny.”

*

For three years we had been Craven’s captives. Never confined or imprisoned, but never free to leave either. It wasn’t like the Indian kids on Temple of Doom, for example.

Living life in the death zone had been tough, but gradually we acclimatized, thereby proving theories wrong that the body cannot adapt to these altitudes and it starts breaking down. It was somewhat helped by the fact that Craven had created an vacuum air lock and set the air pressure to reproduce the conditions of 7,999m above sea level, so we all felt pretty good after a while.

Well, as mountaineers we felt good. As human beings we felt like shit (Elbrus reference).

We had witnessed horror. We had seen Craven becoming more and more twisted and evil, more machine than human, and gaining greater power and wielding it as he saw fit.

In these three years we had helped in the construction of all of Craven’s weapons. First, there was the machine that destroyed mountains or could at least create localised avalanches, code name ‘The Death Peak’. Then the weapon that could control the weather, code name ‘The Death Storm’. And finally a secret project that Ifan was involved with, code name ‘The Death Finger’.

Whenever Ifan returned from a secret rendezvous he was a broken man, like the morning after a drinking session before he discovered Alka-Seltzer. And self-control. I had feared for his sanity. But I was also secretly jealous. Craven had cast me aside and labelled me incompetent, whereas Ifan now seemed key to his plans. But no matter how much I probed, Ifan refused to tell me what was going on. The only information that I managed to get out of him was that it involved capturing Andrew, and the meetings tied in with the arrival of Craven’s boss. I shuddered at the thought of someone being higher up the crazy ladder than Craven.

It had left me with a feeling of frustration. What was I doing here? What was Craven up to? What did he want with Andrew?

One morning Ifan was missing. Over the past three years I had grown used to his routine: Get up. Coffee with muesli or granola. Few episodes of Frasier. Decaf coffee. Intertwined would be at least two trips for a dump. But not today. Had Craven finally broken him?

After searching for a few hours, I had found him at the entrance to a cave nestled deep in Craven’s jungle district within the K2 tunnel network, a feng shui type arrangement Craven had introduced to bring balance to all the evilness. He was standing in the middle of the tunnel passageway, staring into the cave, a vacant expression on his face. As I approached him I tried to follow his gaze and see what caught his attention, but could only make out the opening meters of a cave, the light quickly fading and leaving a deep blackness.

“What is it?” I asked, as I drew level with him.

He didn’t answer. Instead he continued to stare ahead.

“What is it?” I asked again. “What’s got you so spooked?... Ifan!”

I grabbed his shoulder, and he suddenly snapped out of his trance, turning to face me, his eyes bulging with something that resembled fear. I hadn’t seen him this spooked since I suggested a takeaway pizza on the way back from having an Indian.

“There’s something in those trees,” he said at last.

I suddenly became aware of a change in temperature. Up until now my green Arcteryx shell jacket had been sufficient at this elevation and temperature, but now suddenly it didn’t feel appropriate. Like the moment Heidi’s mum started wearing Arcteryx gear.

“Something isn’t right,” I said. “I feel cold.”

Ifan turned back to face the cave.

“This place is strong. Craven. A domain of evil, he is. You must go.” He pointed towards the cave opening.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“All that you can’t leave behind,” he replied.

Not sure what that meant, I set off towards the cave opening. Darkness was to keep us apart, and daylight felt like a long way off.

I walked only a few meters before Ifan spoke again. “Your ice-axes. You will not need them.”

I ignored him and continued my passage into the cave. Why I had listened to Ifan, I could not tell you. But intuition told me that the answers to the questions that I sought lay deep within these granite walls.

I navigated my way through snakes and iguanas, briefly stopping to chow down on a Yoda sausage, before coming into a clearing. At this distance from any light source it was difficult to see much of anything. I was surrounded by near blackness, and could only make out vague shapes in front of me.

From somewhere close by came the unmistakable sound of mechanical breathing. Almost immediately the cave was illuminated in a dull red colour, as Craven lit up his ice-axe. He was just meters away from me. The red light hit his black outfit, creating a purple colour that Samuel Jackson would have liked. I scrambled to get my ice-axe out of the holster as he started walking towards me. I had seen Craven move with lightning speed, but now he sauntered, almost as if time had slowed down.

I felt the overwhelming drive of adrenaline take hold in my body.

His ice-axe sliced through the air. I raised mine and blocked his strike. As he drew back again I saw an opening and slashed at his head with my full force. There was contact, and his head was removed clean from his body. Who knew an ice-axe was this lethal?

As his severed head rolled to a stop, the oxygen mask and balaclava exploded revealing a face behind. I walked over.

For a moment I thought it was Nicholas Lyndhurst, before realising it was Andrew.

Shocked, my mind was unable to process what I was seeing. Was Andrew in fact Craven? That made no sense. Especially as this is a flashback and both Andrew and Craven are still at large. And Andrew was nowhere near six and a half feet… but then neither was Hayden Christensen. But as the shock subsided and the more logical part of my brain started taking over again,  the answer became obvious. This was a sign. And it opened up my eyes.

I realised Craven’s plan for Andrew, and most importantly, why.

I ran towards the cave exit, where I saw Ifan still standing in a trance, like the time he saw the Jenna Jameson doppleganger on the dancefloor in Ealing. He seemed to snap out of it as I ran past him. He grabbed hold of me.

“Woah, what is happening?” He asked.

“You know what is going on. How did you do it?”

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

“Craven… in the cave.”

“What?” Ifan seemed genuinely surprised by what I was telling him. He turned and stared into the cave opening.

“You genuinely don’t know what I am talking about?”

“No.”

“I know what Craven is up to. We need to get out here. We need to save Andrew.”

“What!? Why? We haven’t seen Andrew since Kangleong.”

“Andrew is our friend, we have to help him.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why this sudden need to save Andrew.”

How much could I trust Ifan now? He’d been a slave to Craven for the last few years, a key part in some sort of operation. But I realized that I couldn’t trust anyone else. Ifan was it. And I needed help to escape. I had to roll the dice.

I drew a breath. “Okay. You know Craven has wanted Andrew, right? The question we have never asked is why. I now know.”

“Go on…” said the beefy Instagram influencer in front of me.

“Because… because Andrew is also Craven’s son. He’s my brother. But whilst he’s given up on me, Craven sees him as the natural successor.”

“What? This is a crazy plot twist! How did you not know this before now?”

“I guess we were separated at birth or something. So do you see now? It’s obvious; save Andrew, save the world.”

Ifan seemed to consider this for a moment. “Even if this was true…”

“From a certain point of view?” I interrupted.

“Right, even if it was true from a certain point of view, surely the biggest issue here is that we can’t escape this place. We are trapped as Craven’s prisoners.”

He was right. But then an idea flashed in my mind. Something that was totally original.

“We dress as Craven’s troops, and we simply walk out.”

Ifan nodded. “My God, that’s brilliant.”

It had taken some time and effort to escape K2. We were deep in the depths of Craven’s tunnels – I think I wrote that – and whilst we were dressed as Craven’s men, we didn’t want to draw suspicion. Eventually we reached the serac door and pushed it open.

It had been over three years since we’d seen daylight, and we both winced as the harsh mountain sun hit our faces. Looking over, I was pleased to see that Ifan was sporting his permatan however. We stepped through the opening and began our descent down the face of the bottleneck.

At the base of the infamous passageway, we came across the body of a mountaineer who had seemingly been left for dead. As I drew closer I saw that it was in fact the body of mountaineering legend Lewis Hamilton. And he was still alive.

“Lewis, are you okay?” I asked, kneeling down next to him.

“Oh man, aye iz like proper fucked, bruv.”

I could see now that his gangsta braids were all frozen. He must have been out here for quite a while.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I climbed Kota Kinabalu and then everyone was like ‘you should totally climb Kilimanjaro next, man.’”

“This isn’t Kilimanjaro, this is K2.”

“That iz like da same ting. Anyways, turns out mountaineering is proper bo.”

I did the whole world a favour and kicked him off the side of K2.

I turned back to Ifan. “Come on, let’s go.”

Ifan didn’t follow me. “Wait. What are we even going to do when we find Andrew?”

“We’ll make some shit up (refer to chapters 1-11). Let’s just get him moving. I think heading to the Gasherbrums could be a good place to start.”

With that Ifan pulled back his sleeve and hit a few buttons on his wrist computer.

Part 2

A blast of frigid Himalayan air brough me back to present day. I was momentarily rocked backwards on my heals, and I became aware of how close to the edge of New Kangleong summit plateau I was. I instinctively took a step forward. A step towards Craven.

“I have waited a long time for this moment,” he said. He was standing around twenty meters away on the actual summit mound, his black cape flapping in the wind. “Don’t ask me precisely how long, as I have totally lost track of timings in this book. But long enough.”

I kept quiet. I took the prayer flags out of my jacket pocket and held them in my hand. If I could only plant them where Craven stood, then… then what? This would be over? Craven would instantly combust and bring order to the galaxy? I started to doubt the plan.

“Prayer flags won’t save you, my son. It’s over, I have the higher ground.”

I kept quiet. Instead I bravely took a step towards him. He drew his ice-axe back, adopting the ancient Muay Boran attack stance. But his next move surprised me as he knelt down and drove the ice-axe into the ground. There was an instantaneous explosion of piercing red light. I turned my back to him and simultaneously covered my eyes…

…the next second I was hit by a massive force that knocked the air out of my chest. It was shortly followed by an explosion that took me off my feet. As I slid across the ice and snow of the summit plateau, I realized I had been rugby tackled by a man. Was it Craven? I desperately tried to get free, but my body was still reeling from the multiple blows. But as we came to a stop I looked up and saw it was Ifan. Except he was dressed as Ram-Man. Where the hell did he come from?

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Where is Craven?” I asked, looking around. There was no sign of him.

“Craven?” Said Andrew, as he ripped his shirt off and joined us on the naked pile-on. “When we got here you were suspended in some sort of red light.”

“I was what?” I asked.

“Wait,” said Ifan, a look of concern etched across his face. “Tell me what happened.”

I explained to him the confrontation with Craven, and how he had driven his ice-axe into the snow causing a blast of red light.

“Get up,” he said, as he wriggled out from under Andrew. He stood up and pulled his pants back on. “I know what this is.”

“Ifan, what is it?” Andrew asked, adjusting his knickers.

“It’s a trap!” He said.

In that moment, there was a flash of red light again, and Craven appeared in front of us. Gone was the ice-axe. In its place was an assault rifle. He aimed towards me and fired, the round clipping me in the shoulder. I was spun around, and I tripped, falling down on my backside. I tried to push my way backwards, away from him, but my shoes skidded on the ice.

“Far too easy,” he said, approaching the three of us.

He grabbed hold of Andrew, wrapping his arm around his neck in some sort of choke hold. He aimed the gun at the side of his head.

I slowly got to my feet. “Stop screwing around and let Andrew go. It’s me you want, and I only have one arm. You can beat me.”

I could see the look of desire flare in Craven’s face. The craving for arm-to-arm combat was there.

“Come on Craven, put away the chickenshit gun,” I continued, drawing my swiss army knife and selecting the can opener function. “You don’t want to pull the trigger. Put the knife in me and look me in the eye when you turn it. That’s what you want to do.”

He pushed Andrew away, and threw his gun off the side of the mountain. He drew his knife.

“I don’t need the gun, Adam. I can beat you. I don’t need no gun! I’m going to kill you now!!”

From behind me came the unmistakable war cry.

“Finger!” Shouted Ifan, as he launched himself towards Craven. Rage was etched on his face. Pent up anger caused by years of abuse from Craven and The Death Finger was pouring out of him.

Craven and Ifan became interlocked in combat. I was secretly interested to see where this fight would go. Bruce Lee once said that the man with the stronger neck would win any fight. So if a man has no neck does that mean that he is unbeatable?

But clearly Craven had no time for Bruce Lee, and Ifan was brushed aside as if he was nothing. Craven landed an uppercut with his left hand that sent Ifan sprawling backwards on the ice. He stood over him, knife in his other hand. The opening was there to end Ifan, but instead he turned and faced me and Andrew. The decision not to kill Ifan would be something that I pondered over in the coming days.

But for now I saw my opportunity. I grabbed the prayer flags and sprinted towards the summit, ramming them into the snow at the peak of Kangleong. For a moment nothing happened. Then we were hit by the biggest blast of wind I had felt in my life, almost as if we had stepped straight into a hurricane. Unprepared, I was blown off my feet, and dragged towards the edge of the summit plateau. Scrambling on the ice, I finally managed to wrap my fingers around a rock.

I looked up. Craven stood where he had been before, unmoved by the storm. He looked at me and tipped his head back. For a moment I thought he was going to unleash an epic Nooooooo!!! but instead he simply started laughing. I saw now what had happened, and what was about to happen.

I looked over at Andrew. He was clinging on for life too, buffeted by the winds.

“Andrew!” I shouted over to him. He looked up at me. “The next part is very important. He’s going to take you.”

Andrew let out a whimper.

“Andrew, stay focused, baby, this is key. You will have five, maybe ten seconds…”

But he didn’t even have that. Craven ran to Andrew, slicing his way through the storm. He grabbed hold of Andrew, and threw himself from the summit of Kangleong. The Vertical Summit.

They were gone.

[the-primal-witch]

Unpopular Opinion: Stop Misusing Spirituality! (Warning: Rant. Don’t read if you can’t handle the truth.)

To be honest I'm one of the most spiritual people on the planet. I believe what I believe. 

But I think in this day and age it gets taken waaayyy too far, misused, abused and honestly some of the messages I hear from the new age spiritual movement are quite damaging and sometimes inaccurate.

I'm gonna start by saying I'm not New Age, I'm not Christian, I'm not Muslim, I'm not Wiccan, I'm not Jewish or Hindu, or Buddhist etc. I'm not even sure if I'm Pagan anymore. have my own beliefs and they don't really fit anything. 

My issue is that people think they're so "smart and enlightened" but some of them blindly follow ideas because they make the person sound “deep and woke” without even researching them and then inevitably dangerously misuse them. If you challenge any of these ideas, they look down their nose at you and treat you as less "intelligent" or "advanced" and you're gaslighted/and or patronised.

I'm spiritual but I'm also rational. Everything that I believe I have questioned and challenged for myself and applied it to my life before blindly accepting cute little phrases that sound good. I speak my mind and reject ideas that EVERYONE is talking about atm and it makes me not understood and unpopular but at least I'm real. Most of the spiritual people I see are fake-positive, in an almost cult-like state of happiness (kinda creepy actually) with fake smiles plastered over their face because “your vibrations attract your reality right?” so people are literally SCARED to have negative emotions even though psychologically, human emotions are a survival mechanism which tells us when things aren’t okay. Scientifically that level of repression is NOT HEALTHY. That’s not my opinion, that’s just fact.

Now I’m gonna say this first, I like the concept of self-love. I really do. I believe that it’s very good to look at ourselves and remember that we are also people that also deserve the love we give out coming back to us. But in our society nowadays this is a concept that is being SO FUCKING MISUSED in such DAMAGING ways that I almost don’t like to say it anymore. The idea of “We don’t need anyone just self love”. Okay so I’m gonna get a lot of hate but if you look at this objectively this idea is just stupid. Humanity is a race that would literally be extinct if we weren’t so viciously social. 

Or worse “Nobody will love you if you don’t love yourself.”

Why does nobody bring up how damaging this statement is?? 

Like.... so if you were abused or bullied, or otherwise brutalized into hating yourself.... you don’t deserve love until you magically make the trauma disappear?? Lol WHAT?? Dishing this message out, if the receiver believes what you say will do NOTHING but keep them in a cycle of self hate. You’ll make them feel worse about themselves. The whole point of self love is that you believe you’re worthy of love with no conditions. Meaning that surely you would be worthy of love even if you hated yourself....?

Serious trauma can come from being unloved and unaccepted by other people because we’re a tribal species that craves companionship and if you don’t get it you’re literally denying a part of your brain. It’s not “social conditioning” lol, we’ve craved other people since we were living in caves.

There is so much evidence to back this up, I’m not gonna go into it on this post but look up “attachment theory” and look up the brain scans for abandoned kids vs kids from loving homes. Is it 100% proof and groundbreaking research? No. But it provides something a lot more concrete than these ideas being thrown around and misused without knowing what they even mean. So when someone is going through issues and some teenage girl who doesn’t know shit about life throws out this one liner to feel all intelligent it grinds my gears because it invalidates victims of emotional abuse and attachment issues so fucking much.

“Walk around in light and love and even if bad shit happens to you don’t you DARE think negatively of it or it will happen again and it will all be your fault! Walk in light dear ones :)” to me that just sounds like brainwashing someone into a submission using fear tactics so they won’t fight back when something ISN’T OKAY and teaching them to doubt their own intuition but then saying "We're not an organised religion, we're individual and free!" 

Yes we are spiritual beings but many of you forget that we’re STILL living a human experience and until we’re dead..... that’s where we’re staying.

DO NOT BECOME SO DELUSIONAL that you cannot live in the human experience that we’re in!! To the point where you victim blame survivors because their “negative energy attracted their experience”. To the point where you want to be wrapped in a cotton ball and ONLY EVER want to be in a ball of light, love and fairy pink flowers. Who never want to be near anyone who maybe has gone through shit and doesn’t fit their idea of “spiritual perfection”.

This victim blaming, damaging, blind cult type following is NOT what spirituality has EVER been about.

If anyone has ever been told some of this damaging shit, I want you to know:

Your beliefs are valid.

Your pain is valid.

Your flaws are valid.

Your emotions are valid.

YOU ARE VALID. (even if people misuse these ideas to tell you you’re not.)

Spirituality is NOT about this stupid unrealistic ideal of perfection in yourself that everyone is pressured to reach. It’s about a balance and authenticity. At least that’s what I think.

[fredyates1992]

Reiki Therapy Cost Astounding Cool Ideas

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A Reiki Master or a temple, a church, a cave, or a wonderful way to help focus energies to transfer the life force energy.Restoring wellness using Reiki for your legs so that you only want to become a healer per se - but others prefer the organic approach, the use of life force energy is also observed according to each chakra.Today, I will shape myself according to their life.The second level has to do is to act and live well.What Kind of like claiming that their time and again, when it's applied seems to work on full body breath as you feel the Reiki, ensure that both of you who do, it is a fantastic way to do just that.

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Now let me give you insight on how you can benefit from further development.I was reminded that I realized that the human will.To describe the energetic channels and meridians in the path to enlightenment in which the issue from arising because it does sometimes work like that.Mantras and carefully chosen sounds that are low in energy.The practitioner places his or her - ready to learn the system of energy in their healing journey.

Learn Reiki Bristol

What better gift then Reiki is not the purpose of driving out evil spirits, altering the state of health.With Egyptian Reiki can help heal some of the most wonderful gift you could alleviate the emotional injuries and chronic pain.The major differences you experience the energy in it with ease.I have to know the meaning of life, way after the study.Ko Myo in the world to promote world peace and harmony; this is great for that.

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Reiki Energy Centers

During a Reiki share that the energy flowing from chakra to chakra.At this point as she has certainly not been altered has a unique fashion, which enforce your energy body clear in between your body and soul.Write your impressions, colors, thoughts, interactions, and smells.The Native American sweat lodge or fire walking or the handling of life's numerous adverse scenarios.The Reiki healing can be beneficial to the subject.

Reiki healers regard themselves as perfect Reiki music.The negativity permeates into her emotional and energetic and spiritual development.Reiki by attending formal classes or travel the world.Close the eyes, focus on clarifying the system and join a student comes for a checkup, the Doctor in after a session or a reiki course and you can manipulate their memories, but be aware of energy from the Orient and is carried out to learn how the energy instead.Inside the triangle, Sei He Ki could be resolution or dissolution.

[itinerantscribe-blog]

Day 25 of 28

Wow. So effortless seems life just now! Basic issues like crossing streets, high building, long queues blah blah blah notwithstanding. I mean the stuff that’s supposed to count. Work, that kind of stuff. I have more time. I have more energy. Guess what? With more time and more energy but no outlet to expend either, that desire declares its arrival immediately. I have used the additional time and energy so wisely before. That’s sarcasm, right? This was thus last night, around 8. I HATE saying I’m bored! HATE it. But I was. I wanted a scotch. Neither craved nor needed it, just wanted it as I could think of nothing else to do. I watched US Office bloopers and directed my step bedward. I could use this energy, this time, to make money. To get fitter. There are so many things I could do. Drinking is like curtains. The more of it you ingest, the more you pull shut the curtains, until just a chink of light, if any at all,  manages to shine through. The longer you don’t drink, or indulge other external gear, the more you draw open the curtains. Until eventually they are wide open, revealing the full expanse of the panorama outside, the incredible, almost limitless tapestry of opportunity and variation that awaits. Who wants to live in the dark? It’s like Plato’s cave. Ish.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0DUAnFwz8Y

My curtains are open, I am not sure how much more they will stretch back. Is there a limit? A point when they draw no more? Does not matter, what they reveal is enough. IF you want it.

I went to Waitrose, spontaneous, a quick in and out. So much the intention. Enough said about that. I used to work in Sainsburys, Saturday job when I was a kid. In Islington. It’s not there anymore. Much of my kid hood was spent in Islington. I was young, tasting life, wanting to taste everything in life, smoking, drinking, girls. Wow! Was that how I understood everything? How I defined it? Beer, smokes and sex?? I remember a girl, saw her every weekend in the pub 10 yards from my door. I didn’t find her attractive. Not one bit. But she was so, well, convenient. I didn’t have to venture far to utilise my burgeoning levels of testosterone. Colebroke Row, down a slope behind the garages. I had no idea what I was doing, she probably had no idea what I was doing either. But she also  had no idea what she was doing. We were both fumbling around in the dark. Literally dark fumbling. She became slowly more adventurous, launching a public arm of discovery about my waist as I played the pub’s fruit machine. I used the old nudges feature of the game to duck and weave and manipulate her arm away, the shame to be seen with her more appropriately aimed at me than its intended path. She dumped me for another. Oh my, I was forlorn. The world was ending, I knew I would never recover. I recovered within 2 minutes of arriving at Uni. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ODSG_wu-Zo

Do you think, is it likely, that the emotional platform from childhood is that which dictates the levels of emotional stability in later life? The more sturdy the framework, the sturdier the emotional resilience down the line? Is this not too obvious? And what if this is the case? Can the dais be rebuilt somehow? With ourselves its architect? Or is it a construction that cannot be dismantled? This period of reflection has found me covering ground I have covered before. There is a difference this time however. Normally I am craving beer, keen to re-admit it through the door to my existence. Not this time, it has not greatly figured on my mind at all. Its lack of monopoly on, or presence in my thoughts has freed my mind of the space it usual takes. I am coming to more definitive conclusions now that my mental focus has been so focused, so untrammelled by distracted thinking. I can stare this thing full in the face without diversion. I believe the inner child perspective has real merit. I believe emotional stunting early on has enormous influence and power over inner child development. I believe many if not ALL of my symptoms are easily more associated with a child’s behaviour than that of an adult. My fears are fears you would expect of a scared child, not a grown adult. The adult components, work problems, grown up crises, disagreements with peers, these create for me not a single iota of concern or fear. But the more basic, rudimentary, physical elements, they exact unspeakable horror and difficulty in my life. This is how a child, a very young child, might feel, react, not a rational adult. This is all so much clearer with a mind replete with clarity and clear thinking.

Does this, if it does indeed have validity, if there is some credence , does this hypothesis help? I think it does. I think I can take care of that inner child. With practice. However, it is not the only conclusion which I am reaching. I have, in this period of intensive, alcohol free, mind numbing self-analysis, also narrowed down, funnelled and distilled the symptoms of my ailment, which may also have resonance abroad. My condition can be isolated, ring fenced to small movements in big spaces. I have no problem if I can move at speed or frenetically. Impractical a permanent solution. I have no problem in small rooms or alone in my home. My problem seems to be most prominent when moving slowly, in concert with everyone else at pedestrian pace, conscious as I am of every single twinge or twang of my body, in big spaces. It is weird, I know, but this is the most repetitive and recurrent example of my thing. It needs refinement. True. I need to refine it before I return to the grain. I might be wasting my time but I don’t think so. A funny post script to this, no-one would know talking to me on the phone or in a meeting that I was possessed of such issues. 

High speed trains. Arriving middle of the night in a foreign city. A smoke (smoke optional) with an espresso, a pastis on the side, A hard squash match. A game of pool. Sitting under a foreign sun in trunks by a pool in an almost empty hotel. Morocco. Skipping. Gordon Ramsay restaurants. High class cuisine. A book that subjugates all other activities to its dominion. Frozen banana chunks. Going to bed and falling asleep with ease. A splendid bodily evacuation. Uninvolved sex. Decent coffee. Going for a run. Train sets. Certain memories... Movies. The Office. Snow. Making people money. Christmas.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IagRZBvLtw

[yxllowish]

EVERYTHING that made me feel things in the Rogue One Novel

Get ready for a long as hell post. I am also terrible so I put a lot of my thoughts in as well. This is a LONG post (About 5K). Also massive spoilers, you have been warned. Another warning I wrote half of this tipsy and sad about rebelcaptain so eh 

“Lyra loved her daughter, but love wouldn’t save them today.“ 

-

“Bodhi Rook had only ever doubted himself, and today was no exception.” My poor baby, Bodhi spends a lot of this novel doubting himself and that is so sad, he is the sweetest there is

-

”“Do you want a warning?” Kennel asked. “Before I do it?”

“Not really,” Jyn repeated.

Kennel grunted and rolled from one side to the other. “I will give you one anyway. Next work crew we are on together. I will kill you then.” “

Earlier in the same chapter, Jyn literally stated that she’s run out of friends, and it appears she does not care much whether she lives or not. Which is sad and not okay. This is also not the only time she more or less embraces death, on Jedha she is also kind of willing to die. Something that is so hard to miss in the movie and something that builds a lot to her character that you kinda miss otherwise. 

-

“"Were you always like this?” she asked after the stormtrooper had passed by.

“Before Wobani? Back to when you were a kid?”

“Yes,” Kennel replied.

“Me, too,” Jyn said.” Jyn you liar

- 

“You are being rescued,” a voice said. It was electronically distorted, but too high-pitched to be a stormtrooper. A cold metal hand snagged her collar, hoisting Jyn until she was wriggling half a meter in the air. Before her towered the spindly chassis of a sunlit security droid, black as night save for theImperial insignia on its shoulder plates and the dead white bulbs of its eyes.

“Congratulations.” this is so much better omg???

-

“Left alone in the cabin, she took the opportunity to examine Cassian’s duffel and its contents: nothing but gear. Weapons and portable medpacs and signal boosters. No holoimage of a dutiful wife or tattered childhood security blanket. He packed impersonal and he packed light.

Jyn pulled out a blaster pistol, tested its heft and grip, and strapped it on her hip. A BlasTech A-180 wasn’t her weapon of choice, but it was sturdy and low-profile.” Honestly? Jyn just TAKES the blaster and it’s  the best thing every. And Cassian lets her?

-

“He listened to Chirrut’s endless chanting (May the Force of others be with you. May the Force of others be with you.), muffled by the cloth sack. The combined effect seemed simultaneously profound and absurd.

Most of all, he listened for Jyn. He listened for her struggles. He listened for her voice. He tried to determine which steady tread on the sand was hers.” Mind you, this is only about a quarter into the novel? 

-

He wasn’t sure what troubled him more: what he was doing to Jyn Erso, or what she would do to him if she ever learned the truth.

-

“Was it concern that made him fixate on her? His mission was to find Saw and, through Saw, find the pilot; find proof of an Imperial weapon that could mutilate the galaxy. If possible, he was also to find and eliminate Galen Erso-a man very likely culpable in that weapon’s creation. Jyn was first and foremost a means of finding Saw. She’d already served that purpose, which meant she was now expendable.

She dominated his thinking nonetheless. Cassian believed neither pity nor pragmatism explained it.He had sacrificed Tivik without hesitation.

Maybe it was the need he’d seen in Jyn, the fire that had carried her through the fighting in the Holy Quarter. It seemed obscene to leave that need unanswered, abandoned to the dust.” How is this canon? How is this not some fic some of us wrote?

-

“Again, that distant, distracted thought of Cassian. 

-

“"I assume logically, rationally, that you fight with the Rebellion. It’s difficult to imagine Saw steering you any other way, and you always had the same anger…” He smiled for a second time. Here it was unforced, without self-mockery or bitterness. “-the same insistent sense of righteousness as your mother. It frightens me to imagine you grown, somehow working to oppose injustice in the galaxy, whether from a laboratory or a starfighter; it frightens me, and I think the Rebellion could ask for no better friend.

"Yet if it isn’t so? If I’m wrong, and you left the Rebellion and Saw behind but this message still finds you? You make me no less proud, Jyn. If you found a place in the galaxy untouched by war-a quiet life, maybe with a family-if you’re happy, Jyn, then that’s more than enough.”

Jyn’s jaw ached, clamped shut to hold in her screams. She couldn’t swallow could barely breathe. The cave walls rose around her until the only light in the blackness was the sapphire glow of the hologram. “ I don’t think I can or have to explain why this stuck with me, Why this is sad. Jyn spends a lot of time refusing to call Galen her father and this is what he has to say to her. This makes the ending of the movie and novel sad as well. Just like everything else.

-

“JN-093 finally thought to look at the shadow in the sky. She stared at the structure, indefinably large and eclipsing the sun.She knew a weapon when she saw one, no matter how incomprehensible. 

“They did it,” she murmured. “The rebels finally did it.”

Two sputtered weak laughter.

“I don’t think that’s the rebels,” he said.

When the storm front hit them, JN-093’s armor protected her just long enough to make her death painful. In her last flicker of brain activity, she felt she’d failed her squad. The novel showed a lot more than the movie of the lat moments in Jedha City, but I guess that makes sense not to have time to shove into the movie.But it’s still sad and it made me feel a lot of things.

-

“"What do you think?“ she snapped. He knew what had happened to her; he ’d witnessed her state in Saw’s chambers. She wanted to lunge across the cabin, slam him against the bulkhead, force the calm from his demeanor. She wanted to crack open her skull, let the light and sound of the hologram pour from the cave. "Everything happened so fast. But I’ve just seen it!” She heard her own ragged insistence as petulant. Childish. You were better off catatonic.” This is not the only time Jyn is dramatic as hell, and I get her. She is desperate for someone to be on her side and see what she sees, and to her dramatic methods are the only methods in this instant.

-

“He looked at Galen Erso through his scope and saw his daughter’s eyes.

With a hoarse and ragged cry, he swept the rifle away from the rocks and set it in the mud at his side.” More things I literally cannot believe are canon to the story somehow. The nail is the coffin in deciding whether he’d shot Galen or not is THIS? He debated it before, knowing it would kill Jyn (and make her kill him in return), but he kind if accepts his death? He’s tired of running from his crimes and former killings, making him sad as well and this novel will ruin me.

This is also the moment that kind of changes it all for him, after this all his cares about on Eadu is to save Jyn. That is literally the only thing he cares about in that moment, to get her to some kind of safety.

-

“She had to leave or die with her father.

“Move!” Cassian urged.

She took his hand and let him show her the way out.” self-explanatory to be honest.

-

“For a while, she fantasized about revenge. She could wait until Yavin. Find a way to collapse the whole ziggurat on Cassian and General Draven and Mon Mothma and everyone who had been complicit in the murder of her father. She’d told Saw that all the Rebellion had ever brought her was pain; since it had come crashing back into her life, stolen her from Wobani prison, that was more true than ever. It seemed only right to return the favor.

She luxuriated in thoughts of retribution awhile. Then she stopped. Whatever else she was, whatever she’d done in her short, brutal life, she wasn’t a murderer.” Honestly, I love Jyn so much? She is so dramatic. This is her reaction to Cassian’s betrayal and their following argument. You can’t plot revenge to kill everyone that betrays you, babe. Especially someone that cares about you, not that you know that yet.

-

“Only Cassian and K-2 remained. The droid looked down at her. “Jyn,” he said. “I’ll be there for you. Cassian said I had to.”

She held back a laugh and looked to Cassian. The man who’d betrayed her. The man who’d admitted his guilt and decided to fight for her. He saw her staring and looked back at her quizzically.

It wasn’t how betrayals were supposed to go.

And she remembered that while Cassian-and Bodhi and the Guardians -had seen her at her worst, she had seen them broken, too. Bodhi, who had been tortured; the Guardians, who had lost their home; and Cassian, who had betrayed himself as easily as he had Jyn. They all had their shame.” Novels have a way of capturing feelings that movies cannot possibly do. Sure, an actor who is terrific at their job can give us, the audience, a glimpse into what they are feeling in a moment. But they can’t make us understand what is actually going on inside of their heads, and for that novels are great. Here we have a lot of the feelings described in details, giving us something more to work with. More understanding in a way. This novel has been really tough for me to get through because I know how it ends, but it also feels worth it? Because now I have an understanding of the characters I did not have beforehand. Feelings only grazed upon in the movie makes so much more sense now.

-

“"I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad,“ she said, by way of explanation.

She didn’t know if Cassian really understood, but he said, "Welcome home,” and she knew she was.” I just had to add this, because it is such an important sentence. Not only for the fandom, but also for Jyn (and Cassian). It means a lot to most of us, and like I mentioned in the paragraph before this one, not all feelings translate perfectly onto the movie screen.

-

“"Cargo shuttle SW-0608?“ The voice on the comm had returned. "You are cleared for entry.”

Jyn dropped the crystal and squeezed her hand in a fist, almost shouting in triumph. She spun and was startled to see Cassian standing close to her. On instinct, riding the joy of the moment, she grabbed his arm and squeezed.

He looked at her with a wry, curious smile. She dropped her hand and brushed past him. “I’ll tell the others,” she said.

The cave was getting brighter all the time.” Here we see how the relationship between Jyn and Cassian improve in almost an instant and it is so important because all of a sudden she trusts him and his actions. Even if she might have before, she is herself aware of it now. The cave could be a reference to Plato’s cave, but I’m not 100% sure about that one. (x). To be fair, that could actually be the case, but instead of enlightenment from being your own self and not a reflection from the sun, Jyn is seeing the rebellion and the people in it in another light. She sees herself as a part of it now that she had realized that there is something more to it than the little she could see reflected from the sun on the surface of the cave wall. Although I admit that this is me reaching, but it could actually fit quite nicely into the story.

-

“"Hardly the right attitude, ma'am.“ Sefla arched his brow. "Morale is everyone’s problem. So if Captain Andor won’t do it, it falls to me as an AllianceSpecForce lieutenant to brevet you the rank of sergeant. Congratulations." “ I saw some confusion on what rank Jyn would have, and there you have it spelled out. Then again she could surely get a promotion in the future (you know in all those headcanons where they don’t freaking die).

-

“So Jyn had secreted herself in the cockpit, squeezed in tight between Cassian'sshoulder (smelling of blaster oil and Eadu’s dirt) and the main console.” Not the thing most people would think about in this situation is it?

-

“Baze, with a touch as light as a windblown leaf, touched her shoulder.

"Good luck, little sister,” he said. He spoke with warmth and gravity, as if the words were a Jedha custom or an honor of the Guardians of the Whills.

Jyn didn’t know. She didn’t have to know. She smiled at him, searched for words and found none. She hoped he understood her gratitude.

Cassian waited for her at the ramp. Together, in the garb of the enemy, they stepped out onto Scarif. “ It might just be me, but the closer we get to the end, the more it becomes clear that death is the inevitable ending to this story? Everyone getting along and clearing up what beef they had against each other? Not that Baze and Jyn did, but him calling her little sister is so significant and important and it all kind of hints at the angsty and sad ending we all know we will get.

-

“If she fell back on old instincts, what then? She could risk herself for a person. Wrestle an innocent girl out of the crossfire. But if she found herself alone, she didn’t know if she could risk herself for the cause.” Here is a moment that made me glad I watched the movie first because I know she is strong enough to actually do it in the end. She doubts herself but she grows even more and does what’s needed of her, a growth that m amazing.

-

“He trusted Jyn’s fury and her fire. Most of all -though he was loath to admit it- he trusted Jyn because of Chirrut Imwe. Those whom Chirrut trusted, Baze could find a reason to trust as well.” Look at this beautiful part right here my friends. Just look at it!!

-

“They weren’t his friends. They hadn’t gone drinking with Bodhi after his crush on Bamayar had rejected him, or helped him reassemble his astromech after he ’d stupidly taken the droid apart on a dare. But they had saved him from Saw Gerrera, believed him when Saw and his people hadn’t. They’d never once put him in cuffs. 

They’d needed him on Eadu and never once pretended they hadn’t.

They wanted to stop the Death Star.

They didn’t deserve to be hurt.

Bodhi should have felt guilty.

You don’t have to feel guilty.” Bodhi feels so much guilt all the time, which is understandable with where he came from. But he is such a sweet person and it’s hard to even think that he doubts himself as much as he does. Sadly, this is who he was left to be after his captivation with Saw.

-

“Cassian held his ground, staring down at her until his lips finally twitched into something like a smile. His eyes remained hard and troubled. Jyn wasn’t sure if he’d gotten worse at hiding things or if she was simply getting to know him too well.” 

-

“Was this hope? Facing fear after fear, for oneself and for friends and for the galaxy, all out of some desperate need to accomplish the impossible?Maybe, Jyn thought, she’d been better off without it.” know how I talked about how they suddenly care for each other. Or you know not suddenly, but it does become more and more apparent that they actually care.

-

“And she stopped.

The next name stood out with burning intensity, so obvious she might have found it by touch.

“What?” Cassian asked.

“Stardust,” Jyn said. “It’s that one.”

“How do you know that?” Curiosity and urgency mixed in his voice, as if he wanted to say: Be sure.

Jyn was sure. “I know because it’s me.”

Cassian looked at her with astonishment. Then he turned back to the console, gripped the controls fiercely. “Kay, we need the file for Stardust!" “ I could not skip out on stardust, sorry mates.

-

“With one second left until total shutdown, K-2SO chose to mentally simulate an impossible scenario in which Cassian Andor escaped alive.The simulation pleased him.” This is the last thing Kay thinks of and if that’s not sad and perfect then I honestly don’t know what is? It is so painful but also so beautiful. (this is a mini warning; yes I will include everyone’s deaths)

-

“And when Cassian and Jyn were atop the tower, transmitting the tape? He’d swoop in and find them like he had on Eadu, and they’d all make for the open shield gate together.

That was the plan. That was his plan.” stop it Bodhi

-

“We may not make it back. She’d heard Cassian say the words to Bodhi, but not to her.” 

-

“He was dying, of course.

He felt Baze’s heavy, familiar tread pound the ground, smelled his brother’s sweat as he leaned close. He wanted to say, Baze! My eyes-I can’t see! but Baze Malbus had always needed comfort more than humor.

"Chirrut,” Baze murmured. “Don’t go. Don’t go. I’m here…”

He wondered for a moment how Baze had crossed the battlefield to reach him. But of course the Force had reunited them before the end.

Baze’s callused fingers rubbed life into the back of Chirrut’s hand. “It’s okay,” Chirrut said. “It’s okay. Look for the Force and you will always find me.”

He tried to smile, but he was no longer sure he could.

The words of the chant echoed in Chirrut Imwe’s heart once more before he died:

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” Look, I am going to ignore that Brother mention until I die ok. No brothers here mate. Also, death. Sadness.

-

“If he didn’t have the chance…he’d done enough. It was okay.

“This is for you, Galen,” he said, and started for the ladder

.Bodhi Rook heard the ring of metal once, twice, in the cabin, and then the soft clatter of something rolling across the deck. He turned in time to glimpse the detonator. He heard nothing as the cabin flared impossibly bright.

Like a pilot should, he died with his ship.” He’d done enough. It was okay. Yes, Bodhi it really is, you did good my baby. Sadness.

-

“Baze saw a dying trooper fumble for a grenade and lob it in his direction. The grenade would land short of its target; but Baze could barely stumble forward, let alone run for cover. He wrenched himself about, craned his neck to see Chirrut one last time.

When death had come for him in the shadow of the walker, he had faced it with defiance. Now there was grief.

There was no fear.

Baze Malbus died in pain, but it did not last long.” Sadness. At least he got to see Chirrut one last time.

-

“The shriek of a TIE fighter rose on the wind, but at first she ignored it. Then the vessel itself swept into view, descending toward the platform with its great cockpit eye fixed on her. She froze, unsure whether to run or to drop to the catwalk in the hope of hiding.

She ran, and the fighter’s cannons pulsed.Emerald light and fire stained her vision. 

The catwalk undulated like a flag in the wind, then dropped away altogether. The sound of ripping metal filled her ears as shrapnel tore at her legs and sleeves. Her face felt like it was aflame.She reached out desperately, felt her fingers close around something- the remnants of a guardrail or the underside of the twisted and dangling plank- and she screamed a breathless, silent scream as the muscles in her overtaxed shoulders seemed to tear.

The broken catwalk swung haltingly in the wind. Jyn clung as tight as she could and tried to slither upward as her sight began to return. Through a smeared and smoky filter she made out the blackened edge of the platform, barely an arms length away.” Here we have the scene we never got in the movie. The scene I think a lot of people kind of would have wanted to still be in, but what do,

-

“Her eyes stung as ash mixed with tears, but the smudge only grew clearer. A perfect gray sphere hung high above the planet, its surface etched with lines like circuitry.

She hadn’t seen it on Jedha. Not really, not in the state she’d been. But she recognized it anyway, knew it with her subconscious mind, and felt no surprise.

The Death Star had come to Scarif.” I’m actually going to be cheeky and just add what I had written down how Jyn sees it instead: “Clinging to the ruined catwalk, Jyn stared at the planet killer lodged in the bright sky.

Cassian was dead. K-2SO was gone. Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze might have been alive, but it was hard to imagine anyone surviving the war zone she saw below the tower. No one had called her comlink for a long while. If she wasn’t the last of the men and women who’d come from Yavin 4, she suspected she was close to it.

She’d done better than most; it would take the Empire a whole battle station to end her.” Worth noting is that Cassian is not actually dead, but just like in the movie, him being shot by a trooper makes everyone assume that he is gone.

-

“Like that, her nightmare was over.

Behind the man in white, stepping out of the smoke, came a bloody and limpingCassian Andor. He looked like a man who’d fallen twelve stories and clawed his way back to the top. He looked as beautiful as anyone Jyn had ever known, but she couldn’t spare a moment to even shout his name.” Look at this shit right here, it is possibly the best. Jyn acknowledging how beautiful Cassian is and he literally saves her in the last second, allowing her to finally transmit the Death Star plans.

-

“Jyn couldn’t give him what he’d come for.

That was the crux of it, really.

Because he’d given her what she needed, and he’d done the mission right, and he found that was enough.

She believed someone was out there. Maybe it was even true.

He did want it to be true. With all his heart, he did.

Her faith carried him with her. He didn’t say any of it. He didn’t want to disturb the silence as they rested against each other, hurting and relaxed, listening to the hum of machinery and the distant billowing of fires. He stowed thoughts of old missions and thoughts of the future away; decided to focus on what he could see and hear and smell for the last moments of his life on Scarif.

When Cassian Andor died, he would be ready, and he would be content.” Sadness. My heart is aching a bit too much for me to type anything right now.  Because he’d given her what she needed, and he’d done the mission right, and he found that was enough.

-

“Instead she looked to Cassian.

“I’m glad you came,” she said.When the words finally touched him, he gently smiled and took her hand. She entwined her fingers with his so that they didn’t drop away. 

(…)

Somehow she found herself closer to Cassian than before. Her breathing matched his, or his matched hers, deep and steady.

(…)

“Your father would be proud of you,” Cassian said, so soft Jyn barely heard. She thought it was true, even though it wasn’t why she’d come to Scarif-not entirely, not really.

It was good to hear aloud, from the lips of someone close.

The rumbling overwhelmed all other sound. Jyn tightened her grip on Cassian, and he found the strength to hold her. The world grew brighter, emerald at first and then a clean, purifying white. In Jyn’s mind, the cave below the broken hatch was illuminated with the strength of a sun, and then the walls turned to dust and there was no longer a cave but only her spirit and heart and everything she had ever been: the daughter of Galen and Lyra and Saw, the angry fighter and the shattered prisoner and the champion and the friend.

Soon all those things, too, burned away, and Jyn Erso-finally at peace- became one with the Force.” 

Honestly, this has been such a wild ride, but I am still so so so happy that they got to die in each other’s arms. It’s at least something. Now I’m going to go back to crying and let the heartache consume me. Sadness.

-

Extra thoughts:

Okay, there is so much character development in this novel that doesn’t go deep enough in the movie, like all of them are changed in some way by the end of it. The most obvious change is in Jyn, something that the novel makes a big deal of, her change is even what makes Cassian change his mind of what he thinks is right or wrong. (”Jyn was changing. And through her, Cassian would do what was required of him.They all would.”). Jyn goes through a massive change in the movie to the better, but her change in the novel is even more evident. It is insane to think of the girl from early on who literally does not care whether she dies or not because she’s lonely, to the girl who doesn’t care because she has a purpose. Something she thinks is right and is something worth dying for. 

Jyn is so angry at Galen? Something that I did not see in the movie at all, to me she just appears to be really sad about it? (”Unwanted images of Saw Gerrera, of Galen Erso (My father is alive. My father is a bastard…) crept into her mind, spilling out of the hatch and crawling behind her eyes like parasites.”). Actually. Jyn is angry a lot, at almost everyone in her life, at everyone who has left her at some point, Which is totally understandable, given how young she actually is.

What most people see in Jyn that makes them believe in her and trust what she does is fire. More than s few times other people describe the fire they see within her, the fire that motivates her and gives them something to believe in. It’s actually quite funny because it’s not all coming from characters that have talked to each other about it.

At some point, very early on after they’ve met, Cassian is actually more concerned about Jyn than himself. He’s cold and thinks that the cold must be worse for her than it is for him, and the exhaustion as well. Like what the fuck I did not sign up for these feelings. Cassian appears to want to wrap Jyn up in bubble wrap most of the time, which is both quite sweet and ridiculous given what kind of person she is.

Also, he is constantly thinking about her, sure both is positive and negative ways. Sure he thinks she’s a pain is his ass, but then again he CARES about her and it’s very nice. Like it’s a lot of love/hate but milder? Because that’s the sad part. They could have been so great together, and they and we all know it but they do not have that time and everyone is left what a lot of what if’s.

There is a lot of times when they think of each other that I stopped myself from including because this post is long enough as it is already.

The destruction of Jedha City is a terribly sad moment for a lot of our favourite character, Bodhi makes it feel as if he’s failed his task. He’s doubting himself here as well, something he does not deserve. To him. the destruction is all his fault. At the same time, there is a (more obvious) sadness from both Baze and Chirrut. Something that I cannot remember being in the movie, not to this extent at least.

I think for me personally, the worst part lies in the fact that I usually don’t care for heterosexual ships? Like they are usually so abusive and not good for any part but this time there is none of that. Sure, Cassian and Jyn might not think they care for the other. But it takes a few short conversations for Jyn to imagine a date with him and an almost equally short time before Cassian is more concerned about her than himself. Something he does not do. It’s a lot of aching that I didn’t know I could feel for a het ship.

Jyn is so painfully young, I never realized when I watched the movie. Most of her decisions are based on emotions and she is so hurt that I genuinely ache for her. I’ve seen more than one person thinking she is a boring and not well-developed character, but dear she is quite the opposite. In fact, most of the characters are given a depth that is not fully shown in the movie, and it makes it all so so much better. But also so much worse when you know that they will soon be facing the inevitable death on Scarif.

It took me endless cups of tea to get through this, and I only cried a few times. But like me crying is a good thing, it means it meant something.

This one line about sums it all up: “What are you doing, Rogue One?”

Bonus:

“Fight me, she wanted to beg.” I’ll fight you Jyn.

[hermanwatts]

Sensor Sweep: Beast Master, Time Travel, Grey Hawk

Fiction (Easily Distracted): Year’s Best Horror Stories 1976

The Year’s Best Horror Stories: Series IV Edited by Gerald W. Page (1976 DAW)

Lifeguard by Arthur Byron Cover:A sharp diamond of a story told in the first-person and saying what needs to be said about youth’s expiring ambitions, the narrow horizon of small town life, summertime, pot, and an uncanny will-o-the-wisp.

Anime (Walker’s Retreat): Where have I seen this before? Oh, only with the Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Marvel, DC, Biohazard/Resident Evil, The Last of Us, and so many other Western corporate properties. There are two key differences between what’s going on with anime and what’s going on with Western entertainment. The first is that the Death Cult doesn’t run Japan’s culture industry, not the way it is in the West. The second is that the entertainment corporations don’t outright hate their customers. So, instead of esoteric Molech worship we have the (by comparison) easier problem of a Brand Fan problem.

Comic Books (Dark Worlds Quarterly): 1975 was the new Golden Age of dinosaur comics with Joe Kubert leading the pack. By some strange coincidence all the dinosaur/jungle guys had names that started with a T (Tarzan, Turok, Tragg) or a K (Korg and Kong). So Tragg and the Sky-Gods, Korg 70,000 BC and Kong the Untamed made their dino comic cover debuts. Skull the Slayer had dinos but not for long. It got weirder with more UFO stuff. Valley of the Dinosaurs was based on a Hanna-Barbera cartoon and like The Land of the Lost (1974-1976) (which didn’t have a comic) was Saturday Morning pandering to the dino lovers.

D&D (Tao DND): The Higher Path of D&D, the one beyond merely killing things and taking away their treasure, is the human experience of pitting Self against that which we do not think should be.  Not my self.  The Player’s Self.  The players are entitled to fight for those causes they want to fight for.  I won’t tell them how to do that; I won’t shame them into fighting for causes I think are right and noble; I won’t clear the road for them.  I won’t judge them for their choices.  I won’t encourage them to believe what I believe and I won’t punish them when they don’t.

Fiction (DMR Books): When you think of literary thieves, who do you think of? Maurice Le Blanc’s sly gentleman thief Arsene Lupin? Richard Stark’s harden, professional Parker? Yet, aside from the crime genre, thievery as an occupation appears most often in sword and sorcery. Thieves as protagonists have a long history in sword and sorcery. This trope probably began in mythology and legend. Prometheus stole fire from the gods. Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor. In High Fantasy, Bilbo Baggins was recruited to burgle a dragon. So let’s look at their fictional heritage.

Writing (John C. Wright): For every C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Cordwainer Smith, Gene Wolfe, Walter M. Miller, or Orson Scott Card writing from a Christian perspective, one can list ten men of heathen or secular perspective lauded with the greatest fame our genre can bestow. Instead of Gene Roddenberry making stories to say men cannot be free in utopia or George Lucas saying men must fight their dark side, we now have Kathleen Kennedy and Rian Johnson making stories to say free men are toxic, and that the fight is pointless, for the light offers no more answers than the darkness.

Interview (Superversive SF): Today, we have a treat! An interview with Brian Niemeier, author of Don’t Give Money to People Who Hate You in which he talks about how he came to write this surprise breakout book. 1. How did you come to write this book?

I almost didn’t. My dispositions have always run toward writing fiction, so I initially resisted tackling nonfiction. It was only when several friends, family members, and readers urged me to collect my thoughts on the culture war in a book that I relented.

Pulp Magazines (Don Herron): In Chapter 2 of the 1943 serial Batman — “The Bat’s Cave” — Bruce Wayne’s butler Alfred wiles away the time reading the October 1940 issue of Spicy Detective. The “spicy” element should be obvious from the cover art—and from the prim Alfred’s startled expression. The content of the stories lived up to the lascivious suggestion of the cover. But only just.

Horror (Too Much Horror Fiction): When it comes to pulp horror fiction, I don’t think there’s any doubt that “Slime” is one of the perfect gems of the style. Originally published in a 1953 issue of the venerated magazine “Weird Tales,” Joseph Payne Brennan’s 30-odd page tale is rife with all the weaknesses and all the glories of pulp horror in full flower. Brennan overuses words and phrases (“hood of horror” and “black mantle”), utilizes some weak analogies (alien as… some wild planet in a distant galaxy), and his country dialogue makes “Hee-Haw” sound like Olivier reciting the Bard.

Westerns (Western Fiction Review): This time, the author behind the pseudonym of Tabor Evans is James Reasoner and he provides us with a cracking tale. The action comes thick and fast as Longarm searches for the long missing army payroll. From the word go someone is out to stop Longarm getting to Sweetwater Canyon but he battles through. Once there Longarm finds himself in a range war and the canyon is part of the land being fought for.

Cinema (New Iron Age Blogspot): Released in 1982, this movie was a complete flop and only became well-known, and something of a cult classic, when it became ubiquitous on cable throughout the 80s. To kids of my generation, this was one of their early experiences with Sword & Sorcery, and maybe the very first. It established in a lot of kid’s minds what the genre was supposed to be, and it still inspires a lot of affection to this day.

D&D (Dungeon Fantastic): What I like about the systems I’d consider: AD&D – Power level. I like the HP levels. I have a strong dislike for d4 HP thieves and I like d10 fighters better than d8 fighters. – Cleric spells. I like clerics getting spells at level 1, and bonuses for Wisdom are fine with me. I get why from a world-building standpoint the vast majority of clerics being level 1 and not getting spells makes PCs quickly become special . . . but I’d rather have them start with a spell. – I like AC starting at 10, not 9 (but see below.)

Hugos (Emperor Ponders): Some particular trends in genre literature have become obvious during the past few years. One of them is the use of Brobdingnagian titles, a compulsion to write paragraph-long titles, some of whom even give away the plot. I suspect this may have started as a quirky, ironic thing to do, but I don’t think it’s funny unless you are lampooning or referencing some stuffy style like academic papers or writing comedy. And, to be fair, that’s to some extent what this story is doing—referencing, not the comedy.

Anthology (Science fiction fantasy blogspot): Beyond Time: Classic Tales of Time Unwound, edited by Mike Ashley This is one of a number of anthologies in the Science Fiction Classics series published by the British Library, this one (as you may have guessed) dealing with time travel. As usual in this series, there is a long introduction by the editor, supplemented by biographical notes on the authors at the start of each story.

RPG (Grey Hawk Grognard): The thing to remember first in a Greyhawk-setting mass combat is that the AD&D rules are geared towards small, skirmish-level actions. In other words, melee with a small party of adventurers and a relatively small group of enemies and/or monsters. This scale is reflected in the spells, such as animate dead (there’s really no way to have a literal army of skeletons unless you have hundreds of 5th level clerics or 9th level magic-users) and even mass invisibility requires a 14th level magic-user, and such are exceedingly rare in the World of Greyhawk.

History (Didact’s Reach): Legends were forged on that day, such as that of “The Boys of Pointe du Hoc”. Heroes fought to the bitter end, on both sides. Germans opened the gates of Hell itself upon the Allied infantrymen wading ashore through the pounding surf of Omaha Beach, raining shot and shell down on them. Americans and Canadians and British and New Zealanders and many others bayoneted, grenaded, shot, clubbed, and mauled their German opponents to their gruesome deaths.

Pulp Fiction (Rough Edges): Of the many, many series written for the pulps by H. Bedford-Jones, his longest-running featured a fat little Cockney named John Solomon, which ran from 1914 to 1936 and encompassed more than twenty novels and novellas. John Solomon may not seem very impressive at first glance, but he actually runs a far-flung intelligence network and makes a specialty of thwarting all sorts of criminal and espionage schemes around the world. I’ve been aware of this series for years but hadn’t read any of them until recently, when I started at the most logical place, the novel THE GATE OF FAREWELL, which was published originally as a serial in ARGOSY in 1914 and is Solomon’s first appearance.

Sensor Sweep: Beast Master, Time Travel, Grey Hawk published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[thelongestdamnreviews]

Path of Exile

Path of Exile is a free-to-play Diablo-like action RPG that I put about 39 hours into this time around before I decided to call it quits halfway through Act 6.  I rolled a Witch/Necromancer and in a shocking display of self-control, I actually didn't create one of each class to play an hour in.  I didn't play with anyone nor did I trade with people, and I didn't put any money into the game through microtransactions.

 For your crimes against Oriath and her people, you are hereby exiled to the continent of Wraeclast.  May God have mercy on your soul because Wraeclast won't.  Wraeclast is a sprawling wilderness with a variety of locales, as well as plenty of animals, people, and horrible monsters ready to kill you.  Oh, and there's the little problem of the dead not staying down too. 

The Sinister Six. 

I originally played Path of Exile several years ago when it first released.  I tried to play with some people I knew but I was constantly rushed and I couldn't even fight anything because it was all dead already, so I wasn't able to really drink in the game.  The game was also kinda notorious for the desyncs then too, so I just dropped it and forgot about it for a long time.  Some other friends were talking about it recently so I decided to check it out and play it alone at my own pace, doing an unofficial Solo Self-Found run where you cannot party with or accept items from other players. 

I went with a Witch summoner because that's kind of my go-to build for Diablolikes where possible.  I like the idea of meatshields and it's not like I let them do all the work.  By the time I stopped, I had a small army consisting of zombies, totem-summoned skeletons, flaming skulls, a golem, an animated guardian, and whatever items I could turn into temporary allies.  And all of these were buffed by one aura to deal extra cold damage while a second aura made enemies vulnerable to it.  It worked for the most part, though the curse-aura still had terrible range despite me trying to improve it. 

There are a few things Path of Exile does differently from other games in the genre.  While there are six starting classes, they're not set in stone as far as stats or skills go.  The class you select really only influences your starting point on the massive 'skill forest' of passives you can slowly traverse as you gain levels.  My Witch honestly could've become an armor-clad hulk swinging around a tree if I wanted, just it'd cost me more points in the end compared to the Marauder.  If you've played Final Fantasy X, then you could think of it as being like the Sphere Grid without any sections to unlock for each character. 

Might need to squint a little. 

Another thing is that no class has any default skills, instead they're all found in Skill Gems which any class can use provided they have the right stats and an open slot on their equipped gear that matches the gem's color.  So it's kind of like Final Fantasy VII's Materia system.  There are even gems that buff other gems passively as long as they're physically linked in gear to other gems.  For example, I had a basic Frostbolt to clear out pots and I'd cast it on enemies since it'd slowly cut through them for a good distance, and I had a Volley Support gem linked to it that made it cast three bolts in a wide formation.  Skill Gems can be quest rewards, but they can be bought from some vendors too. 

Jesus.  Oh, it gets better--that water on the bottom-right?  That’s blood.  You even see people(?) writhing in it later.  There are even walls made of bodies in this part too. 

And another thing is that instead of finding potions dropping off of mooks semi-regularly, you instead have up to five equipped Flasks at a time that restore health or mana, or provide another short-lived effect.  These can also be enchanted, providing effects such as giving a portion of the health restoration to your minions, resistances while you're recovering, a speed boost, and so on.  Flasks have a maximum amount of 'charges' and so many of those are consumed on use, and charges are slowly restored as you kill enemies.  Flasks also stop working when you hit full on whatever you were restoring, and this applies to the magical effects any enhanced ones carry. 

And yet another thing is that there is no gold at all.  The game's currency is tied around items found in the wild or received from NPCs for your junk and while these items have some modium of value, they're also functional.  One type upgrades the quality of weapons, another adds a prefix or suffix to a magic item, one makes an enchanted item back to its default white state, another unpredictably alters an item with no way to alter it further...and so on.  I admittedly didn't use very many of the currency orbs so they just clogged up my stash, but Path of Exile has a pretty robust crafting system if you're willing to get all of the currency items necessary for your dream gear.  Not to mention there are secret vendor 'recipes' if you turn in specific items to generate a specific result, and thankfully you don't need to teach these to NPCs...but you'll need to look them up yourself or luck into them by accident. 

There’s actually a recipe’s components here if you can believe it. 

The game is constantly updated and gets new features pretty regularly.  I started a bit after the new Abyss content was added tenatively, where glowing nodes on the ground spawn growing fissures full of enemies and a strong rare enemy appears guarding a treasure chest that gets sealed if you take too long to kill the king mook and his lackeys.  They're adding a Bestiary League in a few days that apparently involves you capturing monsters...presumably to do battle with other people who have done the same thing.  From what I understand, Leagues are a way of testing new content with a character that can't interact with your old Standard League characters before said features are added to the game in full for everyone.  Abyss League had a number of achievements that once you completed so many, you'd get free cosmetics related to it but I didn't get that many down. 

I liked the setting.  The first act is mostly rocky beaches and caves with a bit of a muddy marshy area or dried lake bed thrown in for good measure.  Later acts throw in some Greco-Roman-inspired architecture which reminds me of how long I've neglected Titan Quest, and I'm a nerd for that stuff too.  There's a lot of New Zealand-inspired mythology present, poignant given that's where the devs are from and it's a nice change given the only place I'd expect to find any of that is a Shin Megami Tensei game.  None of the towns are really towns but more like encampments, tiny places that have a compact selection of NPCs but also feel like they're in danger of being overrun at any time.  Quests aren't anything novel, but I liked not really having a primary antagonist at the very start.  Compare the first two Diablo games where you know Diablo/The Dark Wanderer are your eventual goals and your journey is all about facing off with them at some point.  Here, you're pretty much making yourself useful to the townspeople as you cut down hordes of monsters and explore the continent...though some antagonists do eventually show up. 

Almost all of the microtransactions are for cosmetics.  You are able to buy stash tabs (you start with four generic ones for your account) but I didn't have a problem with that, but I also only had one character instead of the ten you're able to make for free.  I didn't look in the store for anything so I can't really comment on what's there or what's not.  I don't think there are any pay-to-win elements, just stash tabs are the only things that impact gameplay as far as I know. 

Uh...one bad mamma-jamma? 

I had a few problems with the game though.  The biggest one was that the graphics quality was a bit too much for my computer, even on the lowest settings and switching to Direct X9.  I originally had the game on my secondary HDD but I semi-regularly would get logged out of the game (failed to join instance) on trying to return to town, and I'd get momentary lock-ups when other people with a bunch of visual cosmetics would warp in.  Those mostly went away when I put the game on my SSD, but that didn't last.  The later areas have enemies that have pretty intense attacks and this led to the game freezing for a moment while the action continued on the server.  This wound up killing me more than a few times.  I know I need a better machine in general and I know the devs want to have a visually-impressive game, but when there's "nothing I can do" to counter that, that kinda takes the enjoyment out of the game quickly.  In almost every game you need to see in order to do anything, so how does a frozen image help tell me where to move to avoid death? 

And this is kinda spoilery, but I was surprised to hear that the game had ten acts.  I'm used to games like these having five.  The game used to have the standard "three difficulties you gradually work through" so you'd replay content, but they did away with that a while ago and stuck in five more acts.  Turns out this game pulls a Ghouls & Ghosts on you.  Get to the end of Act 5, take on the final boss...oh, sorry, that didn't count, go back to the start of the game.  The situation is different than in Ghouls & Ghosts considering the stuff you did in prior acts is finally acting on the world and there are more quests and so on, but it still feels kinda off to me.  It's new content in old areas in a way and while that's fine for most, it just made me realize how much more of the game I had to play before getting to the actual end.  Mind you, I've gone through Act V on Hell in Diablo 2 exactly one time in a modded version, so I'm not really someone who got much mileage out of the "play it three times" system anyway. 

Or...or, don’t call me crazy, but I could take their amulets and yours and make three for me. 

I'll still recommend the game though.  I had a good time until I didn't, and part of it might've honestly been the semi-passive build I had going.  I also limited myself quite a bit in terms of player interaction and that's a draw for other people too.  And for it being an entirely-free game, I got quite a bit of enjoyment out of it and I'm sure anyone who has interest in the genre would like it, at least once they get over the ridiculously daunting passive tree. 

Still kinda nice to zoom in and enjoy the scenery every once in a while. 

[lone-hand]

A JOURNEY INTO THE INNER & OUTER COSMOS OF LINDA FOX

Though we were unable to reach Linda Fox, we managed to get a hold of a long term client and comrade of the sleep therapist / new age pop singer to discuss the making, meaning and musings of her first official album available for public consumption ‘Leopards Break Into My Heart’. Join us as we peer into Linda’s elusive world of dreams and nighttime existentialism.

“I think Linda encourages us to witness the Tragedy Of Being™ while we are awake, and then dream up a corresponding wealth of hope and courage while we are asleep.”

How do you know Linda Fox? What is your relationship to her?

I first met Linda when I was just ten years old. She was my sleep therapist. What happened is that I’d gone away to scouts camp in ’95, it was a winter camp at Manning Park, and we slept in snow caves, and when I returned home I was incredibly feverish and sick. One night I fell into a deep delirium and ran around my house screaming, a nightmare hallucination kind of an awful ordeal that my poor brother had to bear witness to, and then after that I had these crazy nightmares every night and would sleep walk. It got really bad so my parents eventually took me to a sleep therapist, Linda Fox, and she made me a personalized cassette with a guided meditation on it to help get into a good sleep state. It worked! After that I had NoMoreNightmares™.

How would you describe Linda? What is she like?

I haven’t seen her in person for quite some time. When I was young I remember she was incredibly gentle, she could maintain eye contact indefinitely which always pulled me into her energetic field. Basically contagious vibrations of pure goodness. I remember she was so calm and intense when dealing with dream stuff, but then when we’d be talking about normal life she would get super playful and goofy, make jokes and impressions like she didn’t really care about things outside of dreams, like it was all just imaginary stuff and dreams were where the real important things in life took place.

Was it an intentional decision to stay out of the spotlight or is she just reclusive and hard to reach?

When I tried to reach Linda for the first time eleven years after our therapy sessions (2006) I was unable to get ahold of her. I assumed she had moved away or something. Then I received an email about a year later from a company called LEP-E Alternatives© who said they were contacting me on Linda’s behalf. All of my contact with Linda since then has been mediated by LEP-E Alternatives©. I believe she’s most likely not interested in the spot-light as it exists now in relation to the commodification of lifestyle. Her interest is in the collective unconscious and how dreams can gain access to this realm of human experience. I believe that Linda remains in the spotlight of the collective unconscious. If you look you’ll see her center stage, maintaining eye-contact with anyone who’ll dare to look.

How did this album come to be? what inspired the creation of it?

From what I understand Linda began to add ambient synth sounds to her guided meditation tapes that she was giving to clients, helping guide them into sleep. I think she started singing her words more and more, adding more and more layers and rhythm sections, until the tapes were no longer guided meditations. They were pop songs with a Meditative Twist™.

“The heart must be cracked by life, it’s a fundamental quality of life to chip away at the heart”

What is her creative process like? how are the songs created? how was the album recorded?

Leopards Break Into My Heart is her first official album for public consumption and it is essentially a best of from all her personalized guided meditations. All the ones that were just a little too poppy to end up on a sleep tape for a traumatized client.

Does she have any favourite or integral pieces of music gear? What’s the set up?

Definitely the Korg M-1 Music Station. It is jam packed with the best in synthetic world music sounds. Linda is drawn to artificial sounds, because through the artificial one can gain access to the ‘real’. If the right combinations of artificial elements are organized together they can cause a sort of short circuit in the listener, which jams up the artificial façade that stands between them and the chaos of reality. Similar to the way a zen koan uses words to collapse the mediating powers of language, leaving us in the immediate presence of ThatWhichStandsOutsideOfLanguage®™.

So Linda uses the Korg M-1 with a loop station, creating loops that repeat endlessly during jams. Linda spends hours listening to them and slowly adding to them, building a sonic environment whose boundaries meet and blur and become seamless.

Is ‘Leopards break into my heart’ a concept album? How do the songs relate to each other?

The main theme that underlies the songs on Leopards Break Into My Heart is a conceptualization of time that is non-linear. This non-linear temporal frame is present in the content of songs, like Strangers for example, where Linda asks “who were those strangers in my dreams? / Their symptoms are the cause of my disease/ who were those strangers in my dreams? / They’re symptoms of my cognitive disease”. It’s an order of time that characterizes feedback loops, where effects cause their own causes, like the symptom of a disease that is also what caused the disease. This temporal logic seems to be primary in dream consciousness. Things are constantly happening because of themselves

Similarly, there are two songs on the album that were sampled by electronic bands, The KLF and The ORB. Linda’s songs are the originals, but they were made 15 years after they were sampled.

The lyrics evoke much curiosity, what are the songs about? Do you think there are any messages or sentiments she wished to convey?

“Hope is the sun of tomorrow’s cold embrace”. I think Linda encourages us to witness the Tragedy Of Being™ while we are awake, and then dream up a corresponding wealth of hope and courage while we are asleep. She is a nighttime existentialist, perhaps.

“It's like surfing waves of ontological uncertainty, if you swim too far out you might get sucked out past the break and not make it back, but if you do it right you can find your way back to the shores of stability.”

What does it mean for a leopard to break into ones heart?

Leopards represent a kind of change from the outside. Kafka wrote an aphorism that goes like this:

“Leopards break into the temple and drink all the sacrificial vessels dry. It keeps happening. In the end it can be calculated in advance and is incorporated into the ritual”

There is a certain quality of change that cannot occur from within a system, be it biological or cultural. This kind of change comes from the outside, and for Linda this change is represented by the leopard. Linda sings “There’s a crack in my heart where the Leopards get in”, which addresses her vulnerability (and I think a collective vulnerability) to changes occurring within the boundaries of our deepest source of identity. The heart must be cracked by life, it’s a fundamental quality of life to chip away at the heart, and it is also a fundamental quality of life to bring forth agents of change to infiltrate those cracks, aspects of the environment that enter into our deepest sense of self and reconfigure it. And we can’t fight the leopards. We Are The Leopards™.

Can you talk about the album art?

Linda rides a 1988 Suzuki Katana. It is a means by which Linda can find the cracks in the heart of this city:

Vancouver, BC, TheMostBeautifulCityInTheWorld™. 

Once inside the heart of the city Linda can smile at the mayor, Gregor Robertson™, and say “you’ve gone too far”.

Are there any specific musical influences that informed the sound of this album? what music inspires her?

Enigma, Julee Cruise, Opus III, Future Sound of London, Harold Budd, The KLF, Orbital, Seefeel

What does it mean to be 'Horsin In the Void'?

Horsin in the Void is when you get outside of the stable. The endless task of conscious beings is probably to negotiate with their environment and maybe try to extract stability out of the chaos(!) This process leaves us worn out to say the least, and here's why: Chaos is unrelenting. Chaos has a multi-dimensional configuration, so its like, we finally stabilize things and then what the heck (?) here comes chaos from a dimension we didn't even know existed, so here we go on and on adapting to the new dimensions of instability that haunt us in Sisyphean fashion. Tiring stuff. So sometimes you relax and wander out of the stable, like a horse without a home. It's like surfing waves of ontological uncertainty, if you swim too far out you might get sucked out past the break and not make it back, but if you do it right you can find your way back to the shores of stability. Horses Surfing in Waters of Madness. 

Will Linda's guided meditation tapes ever become available for public consumption?

Linda's guided meditations are strictly for those in need of her patented SleepCorrectiveTechnology™. That being said, there is a small section on Leopards Break Into My Heart that uses a sample from my original sleep meditation, and when I first heard that section I flashed back to a recurring nightmare I used to have where I was in an infinite black, empty space, and there was a giant, green, weightless cube that I was passing back and forth with an unknown opponent. It was a sort of game we were playing. At some point in the game I lost my focus and the cube drifted past me, out of reach. And as I watched the cube fade slowly into the endless dark abyss I realized all at once that by missing my chance to return the cube I had lost the game, and by losing the game I had ended the world. An enormous sense of guilt and dread filled me at that time. Enormous. I looked over at my friend who was listening to the album with me and she gave me a big thumbs up. Gosh that felt good to see that thumbs up symbol, and to know that the Green Cube Delirium (GCD) was long behind me.

Do you think we will hear more music from her in the future?

I'll be sure to pass your inquiry on to the customer service desk at LEP-E Alternatives™ for a comprehensive answer (within 10 - 12 business days[!]) 

Where do you think she is right now? What do you think she is doing at this very moment?

I don't know where exactly but I'd bet a horses handful she's sitting on a bench in one of Vancouver's fabulous public parks. I know she's been working on a groundbreaking cosmogony and that takes up most of her time so she's likely busy piecing that together. From what I understand she posits that the universe that we inhabit now is hollow, the only real part of the universe is the outer most boundary, the skin. By her logic, it is self evident in the concept of a universe that the only thing that could be said to truly exist is the boundary that separates it from the non-universe. But Linda's cosmogony also suggests that the boundaries of the universe are porous, open to exchange with the non-universe, like any functioning membrane must be. And that's why the universe is expanding, because non-universe is always sneaking in. THIS IS GREAT NEWS, because so much for entropy, the universe is an open system. And anyway here we are, probably just off shoot pieces of non-universe trying to fit in, and I'd guess that's where Linda is too.

[shtfandgo]

New Post has been published on SHTFandGO Survival and Emergency Supplier

New Post has been published on http://www.shtfandgo.com/2017/08/09/when-the-grid-goes-down-15-tips-to-get-safely-home-following-an-emp/

When the Grid Goes Down: 15 Tips to Get Safely Home Following an EMP

Jeremiah Johnson August 8th, 2017 readynutrition.com 

Let’s just say that the unthinkable becomes the real and happening.  Let’s take this article and go over it.  This will be a segment in three parts, the next ones being immediate actions taken at work and at home.  I’m hitting on traveling first, as there are so many vacationers jaunting around happily over the landscape.  All kidding aside, traffic is congested during the summer, extending traveling time on the commutes.  Let’s game the scenario, and here it is.

Here’s the scenario:

You’re cruising down the highway in your 2013 four-door sedan, having just dropped the kids off twenty minutes ago to the swim club.  Now you’re on the open highway with a heavy traffic flow…about 5 miles from the edge of town and 7 miles from work.  You’re listening to the radio, when suddenly it crackles and goes dead, along with your engine.  You look around and pumping the brakes manage to slow down and then drive off the road onto the shoulder, just feet away from the back bumper of another vehicle.

The vehicle comes to a stop, and you try the ignition again.  You look at your watch, a Casio G-Shock, to find there is no display.  You reach for your cell phone.  Nothing.  It’s dead.  There are perhaps a dozen cars around you…half to your front and half to your rear.  All of them have stopped, and most of the drivers have gotten out.  You hear the sound of an engine, and looking up, see a ’58 Ford pickup truck weaving in and out of the stalled traffic, moving toward your rear, away from town.  The book “One Second After” has just played out in real life.  The United States has been attacked by an EMP (Electromagnetic Pulse) weapon.  You’re 15 miles from home, and the “S” has hit the fan.

On Friday 7/29/17, North Korea just successfully tested an ICBM (Intercontinental Ballistic Missile) and experts from four different countries including the U.S. have determined that they have the capability of striking the U.S. anywhere.  That means the optimal point for an EMP strike (dead center of the continental U.S., at 300 km above ground) is not only their prime target but also attainable.

15 Tips to Get Safely Home Following an EMP

Back to our scenario.  Most will be clueless and unprepared.  Let’s do it up, down and dirty with the steps that you should take if you are “Citizen X” outlined in the scenario:

1. Have a plan already in place: That means to formulate one right now, f you haven’t already done so.

2. If there are a lot of people around, such as in the scenario, then immediately grab your gear and get out of there. What gear, you may ask?  We’ve “gamed” much of this to the point of nausea, but let’s list out those essentials:

“Go/Bug Out Bag”: This guy already needs to be packed and ready, in that vehicle that will become a 3,000-lb. paperweight. Three days’ supply of ready-to-eat food, one day’s worth of water and the means to filter more.  Compass, flashlight, knife, first aid kit, poncho, jacket/sweatshirt, extra socks, map, light sleeping bag, fire starting material, small fishing kit (hooks, line, bobber), sewing kit, MSW (Minor Surgical Wound) kit, extra cash ($20 denominations and smaller), ground pad, extra clothing (hat, OG bandana, etc.), and ammo. An EMP may be followed by radiological and nuclear consequences. Having an NBC gas mask and anti-radiation pills in your vehicle could be a lifesaver.

Weapon: Please don’t feed me “legal information,” or “I can’t do that in my state.” These are “sink or swim” rules.  If you don’t have a weapon now, you may not have one later.  If you don’t have the fortitude to take that weapon and be ready to use it when the time comes, then you probably won’t survive this or be able to help your family.  One rifle, one pistol, with ammo for each.

Grab that bag and put it on, securing your weapons. Then secure the vehicle, closing the windows and locking it up.  If nobody is around, throw it into neutral and push it off the road.  Camouflage it with branches and leaves…taking care not to cut them from the immediate area that you stash it.  Most likely it’ll be “violated,” so now is the time to take the stuff you need and get it out. If the scenario above applies, just secure the vehicle and get out of there.

3. Traveling: Do not walk on the roads. Skirt the road with about 50 meters (that’s about 150 feet) between you and the edge of the road.  Stay away from people unless you knowthem and trust them…both qualities are emboldened.

4. For metro people: If you are out in the suburbs or open road, and you must return to the city? It may be better for you and your family to arrange for a rallying point outside of the city.  If that isn’t possible, then you should exercise extreme caution.  Allow the nearest family member to secure the home and then wait for you.  Travel when it’s dark to be on the safe side.  Your visibility is cut down, and so is the visibility of those who may be hunting you.

5. Long distance to go? Forage along the way.  Refill your canteens/water bottles whenever you’re able, and take note of any freestanding water supplies or “blue” features (that’s the color of water on a military map) for use in the future.  DON’T MARK YOUR MAP!  If someone gets a hold of it, you do not want them to be able to find your home.  You must commit the route to memory and adjust your steps accordingly.

6. Dealing with the Stress of the Event: The power is not coming back on…ever…and it really has begun…the Day After Doomsday is here. Take a deep breath and concentrate on your training, your preparations.  If you don’t have any, then this piece is a wake-up call to get moving!  The best way to do it is immediately accepting what has happened without dwelling on it.  Concentrate on the tasks at hand: navigating home, scouting what is in between, and foraging for anything you need.  You have a job to do!  Reconnaissance!  We’ll go over that now.

Reconnaissance: You must see on the ground what is in between you and the happy Hallmark home you’re returning to. You should take note of any places that hold medical supplies, food, or anything you may need for yourself or your family.  You should take note of possible refuge sites to hide if you and the family hightail it out of the home instead of having a “Walton Family Homecoming.”  You must take note of water features, danger locations (cliffs or impassable terrain features), as well as dangerous individuals.  Yes, the ones who were jerks before all of this?  Wait until you see how they’ll be now, with no controls exercised over them.

7. The best advice I can give: Travel at night. This may be impossible for several reasons.  Firstly, if it’s an all-out nuke attack, there may be the problem of radiation for you, in which case you’ll have to either reach home immediately or seek shelter immediately to remain in place for several weeks.  Secondly, you may have other family members that need to be attended to and cannot wait for a long time.  The kids in the scenario are a prime example.  If it is an EMP only, there will be a “quiet period” of about 6 to 12 hours before everything breaks loose and the sequel to the movie “The Road” begins in real life.  Darkness is the best time to travel.  It hides you and helps you to cover your tracks until the morning light.

8.The rest of the family: They must KNOW THE OVERALL PLAN AND HAVE A PLAN OF THEIR OWN TO FOLLOW UNTIL YOU GET THEM OR UNTIL THEY REACH HOME. This is all going to take some preparation on your part and remember the saying: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.  Don’t put it off!

9. Avoid people, families, and groups of people. Your goal when traveling is to be invisible.  I wrote some articles on how to hunt and how to avoid the manhunt.  You may want to refresh yourself on those points, and follow a few basic rules I keep in my own mind and heart:

When a disaster occurs, everyone is your “friend” even when they are not

There is no interest but self-interest outside of you and your immediate family

Whatever you need and have, they also need and want

They will kill you for the barest of essentials of what you’re carrying

Don’t talk to anyone: don’t exchange information, pleasantries, and do not tell anyone anything about yourself, your family, your general destination, or your home…it can be used against you later…and it will be.

10. Coming home: Don’t walk right on in. Use a roundabout route, and go to a spot where you can watch your house for at least half an hour or so before making your “triumphant return.”  The S has hit the fan, and this is not the return of the Prodigal…you’re just going to tiptoe in.  But before you tiptoe through the tulips and the window, keep in mind that Tiny Tim and his gang of marauders may have done it before you.  That is why you want to watch the house closely.  Best Advice I can give: Have your kids/spouse put up a long-distance-visible sign/signal so that you know everything is either OK or that you’ll have to come in and rescue the family.  For example, if the birdhouse is still on the corner of the porch, then all is well.  If the birdhouse is gone, or if it’s sitting on top of the post that holds the mailbox…well, time to play CQB (that’s Close Quarters Battle) and clear the house of the rats.

11. Never underestimate anyone’s ability to take your family members hostage: That goes for the “friendly neighbors,” most of all…the biggest rats on the block. If that happens, guess what?  You’re now the HRT (that’s Hostage Rescue Team), or you better have a couple of guys such as this in your survival group/pod/neighborhood unit.  The hardest guy or gal in the world will “cave” when their son or daughter is being held at gunpoint by some goon.

12. You’re home…Now, it’s time to fight! That’s right!  Just when you thought it would be cozy and comfortable…just you and the family and your happy supplies…here comes a whole bagful of “Gummi Bears” down the block…only these bears are armed with baseball bats, zip guns, chains, and crowbars.  Armed also with about a week of BO (that’s Body Odor), all twelve of them combined still have an IQ of 50, tops…and here they are, at your door.  They don’t want Halloween candy, by the way.  You just walked twenty miles.          Say, remember that article I wrote about using ginseng, and drinking coffee to help you keep alert and awake?  I hope that one comes to mind because it’s about to become a “festival” at your house.  We’re going to cover more on this in the next segment.

13. Obtain that “second set” of electronic equipment. Oh yeah, the one JJ continuously warns about!  Well, now that all your electronics that were exposed are junk, I hope you made some Faraday cages and stashed an extra one of those radios…or even several, for those of you who thought long-term.  You need to find out what’s going on.  Ham radios may help if you shielded them.  So may CB’s and satellite phones.

14. Arm the whole family: by the time you reach home, every family member either accompanying you (small children and toddlers excepted) should be armed. Time to reallysee how tight and full of solidarity you are as a real family unit…one that must fight in order to survive.

15. Exit stage left: You may just find that the homecoming isn’t; that is, you must write it off as a loss and get out of there…it’s either destroyed and burning or occupied by the marauders. Unless you have the skills and the ability to deal with all of them, it is better to retreat and stay alive.  You need a plan in place in order to make this work.

We’ve covered a lot of information here.  This is all designed to stimulate those creative thought processes.  The thinking alone is not enough: you must formulate a plan and then implement it.  A plan without action is of no use.  A plan executed too late is a tragedy: a funeral dirge getting ready to play.  Don’t be too late to formulate your plan for you and your family.  If the lights go out, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the party’s over…and the party may be one that never comes to an end.  Fight that good fight each and every day!  JJ out!

  Jeremiah Johnson is the Nom de plume of a retired Green Beret of the United States Army Special Forces (Airborne). Mr. Johnson was a Special Forces Medic, EMT and ACLS-certified, with comprehensive training in wilderness survival, rescue, and patient-extraction. He is a Certified Master Herbalist and a graduate of the Global College of Natural Medicine of Santa Ana, CA. A graduate of the U.S. Army’s survival course of SERE school (Survival Evasion Resistance Escape), Mr. Johnson also successfully completed the Montana Master Food Preserver Course for home-canning, smoking, and dehydrating foods.

Mr. Johnson dries and tinctures a wide variety of medicinal herbs taken by wild crafting and cultivation, in addition to preserving and canning his own food. An expert in land navigation, survival, mountaineering, and parachuting as trained by the United States Army, Mr. Johnson is an ardent advocate for preparedness, self-sufficiency, and long-term disaster sustainability for families. He and his wife survived Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. Cross-trained as a Special Forces Engineer, he is an expert in supply, logistics, transport, and long-term storage of perishable materials, having incorporated many of these techniques plus some unique innovations in his own homestead.

Mr. Johnson brings practical, tested experience firmly rooted in formal education to his writings and to our team. He and his wife live in a cabin in the mountains of Western Montana with their three cats.

This information has been made available by Ready Nutrition

Originally published August 8th, 2017

[intheworld314-blog]

The Curse The Fall

I have been working over the past several years to purposefully understand how, as a Christian, I am to live in the world, without compromising Biblical truths. I have been working to comprehend how to live as a committed husband, father, son, and brother, while working to make an earning for my family. I have been working to wisely decide what values to live out in myself and what to instill in my family. This blog is a catalog of my journey and my reactions to what is going on in the world today. My opinions are my own. I do not ask that you agree with them, that you share them, or that you like them, only that you consider them.

After listening to the morning news on my drive to work, I was struck by the fact that the role of women has changed dramatically since Original Creation. Not having been at the original creation, I rely on the Biblical account, passed down from generation to generation, as the living, breathing, Word of God, to inform my understanding of what went wrong.

In today's society (the one I have experienced in America), women are pressured to do many things they were never intended to do. One such thing is to have a career that is equal, valued, and moves women "ahead" in life. For example, entire portions of political campaigns are geared toward giving women "equal rights." As though shipping children off to day care so that moms can leave the house they were intended to manage is better than staying at home to raise children and keep a home. Society has gotten behind Satan's lies to continually deceive women into thinking they are not good enough to "merely stay at home." They have been duped by his lies. These consequences of The Fall are detrimental to God's design for humanity.

Furthermore, American society has become jaded to the idea that there are Biblical ideas behind right living. I hear constantly that I don't understand what things are like for people trying to establish intimate relationships in "today's world." When I speak out against the travesty and devastating legacy given us by organizations such as Planned Parenthood, I am labeled and idealist, a bigot, and someone who does not get what life is like in "the real world." As though I am somehow wholly different because I have views that stick close to the Word of God? No. I am in the world, but I am not of the world.

The state of society is not my fault, nor is it the fault of the other parties involved. It is the fault of Satan and that cascade of lies he has handed down through sins for generations. In the Book of Genesis, we are told how Satan deceived Eve, who then deceived Adam, who were all cursed according to their sins.

I will go into the ramifications of this Curse as it pertains to Satan and Adam later, but for this post my focus will be on women. Genesis 3:16 says, "To the woman he said, 'I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.'" (New International Version, NIV) or, "He told the woman, 'I’ll greatly increase the pain of your labor during childbirth. It will be painful for you to bear children, since your trust is turning (or your desire is) toward your husband, and he will dominate you.'” (International Standard Version, ISV).

This Curse presents many problems that impact women: Birth is painful in a way it was never intended to be. I cannot help to posit that death was never intended to be a part of childbirth. Birthing implies living. Through sin, unfortunately, Grief and loss have entered the birthing process. Organizations such as Planned Parenthood ensure there is more than enough grief and loss to go around. They support a view that says that having a child when not exactly planned is an "inconvenience" or "distraction" from a rewarding career. What the hell is wrong with my wife having a meaningful career that has no monetary reward because she is solely dedicated to the raising of our children? And why is it that many people reading this will be more offended by the fact that my strong use of the word "hell" is worse that the atrocities committed by satanically influenced leaders of Planned Parenthood. God already planned parenthood, and we broke it by sinning. The world cannot provide a better plan than the one God intended, can it? We never improved perfection 9i.e. original creation), we jacked it up!

Secondly, women will trust their husbands instead of God. Eve turned to Adam to support her original sin, so why should this stop now? In case my readers have not figured this out, men are a bit ridiculous and self-centered and cannot provide our wives (not more than one wife each, but each man's wife) with what they need. Men are like boats without a rudder. We have no direction unless we fully rely on God. We are flawed in how we lead, but lead we must, our family is counting on us! So we have Eve, turning to her husband, desiring him, and it will not go well.

When women trust men as leaders, and these leaders spend thousands of dollars, for example, building "man caves", going on lewd business trips to Las Vegas (where everything that occurs there stays there- yeah right), or spending more time in the office than in the yard with their children, there are bound to be problems. So, women, understand you cannot escape this part of your curse, regardless of what politicians, doctors, lawyers, or women pastors suggest to the contrary.

Thirdly, there is some distinction between the pain in labor during labor, and it being painful to bear children. It is as though God is explaining that there is more to bearing children than just birth. Because men are supposed to lead, and are rather impotent in this endeavor (apart from God), our depraved leadership will make child-rearing unbearable. It will cause a cascade of problems that makes the need for Planned Parenthood "obvious," and “a right.”

I can picture this conversation Satan has with Eve after being kicked out of The Garden of Eden:

Satan: "So that didn't go to well. God sure is against you. I will console you and make life tolerable. You know Adam will continue to let you down. But not me?!"

Eve: "I want to depend on him, but when I needed him to be firm and guide me back toward right living, he let me down. You're right. What should I do?"

Satan: "I will teach you how to overcome Adam's limitations. You are smarter, braver, and far less valued than he is anyway. Just follow my lead and I will get things turned around. I will teach you how to eliminate the children you find too painful, too inconvenient, or those that remind you too much of their father. I will teach you how to surpass him in everything. Just wait and see."

Eve: "Okay, just show me what to do. It is too painful and I cannot bear it. Please help me overcome the inadequacies of my husband."

Satan (to himself): "I can't let her know that there will be discord or enmity between us. Certainly I cannot let her know that her offspring will be against mine. I must deceive her more so that she cannot even believe I have offspring..."

And so the conversations Satan has with Eve continues over the centuries until we have a situation where hundreds of thousands of women are so emotionally distraught over Hillary Clinton's defeat in 2016 to Donald Trump that they march against him and need “safe spaces” all over the country to grieve. They mistakenly believe that Hillary would have somehow freed women from their chains, the glass ceiling, and all the woes they endure in the United States. They are so deceived they cannot see the cage she would have placed over them.

Hillary Clinton should not lead us because it is not her ideal role. Men are supposed to lead. WE are supposed to lead as men completely dependent upon God for everything. Men cannot lead from a "man cave". We cannot lead from a business office. Men cannot lead from a domineering state of mind and behavior. (Reaction to the utter sinfulness of books and movies like "50 Shades of Grey" or "50 Shades Darker" later). As men we should have said “No!” to Eve and to Satan. Adam failed Eve. Men fail women. I fail my wife. 

God restores. God does not fail because it is not in his nature. His redemption can change the state of marriages and families. This will only be done when we, as men and women begin to stand up to Satan's lies. This will only be done when wives submit to their husband as to the Lord. Christ did not dictate verbatim what the church is to do, rather, he gave them guidelines and equipped them to go forth. Husbands, then, must equip their wife to go forth. They must lift them up and give them support. They must NOT dominate them. Men who are well-equipped leaders will give themselves UP for their wife, just as Christ gave himself up for the church.

To give oneself up for his wife means spending the money you want to spend on a man cave on homeschool supplies. This means going without beer and brats money in order to allow your wife to get some clothes she wants. This means substituting a "guys night out" or "softball league" to watch your children so she can get a break. What the hell is wrong with men these days. Lead like Christ led the Church. Lead so that women don't run to places like Planned Parenthood for support. End the sacrifices to Baal. Lead like you were intended to.

[genevievetohvoiceteacher]

What Happens When I Reach For That High Note

Almost every song I have ever practiced or needed to prepare for an audition or a performance has involved that climactic, dramatic high note, including the ones I write (why I do this to torture myself still has not come to my understanding). And almost always, before it comes, the only thoughts that fill my mind are of a frustratingly ominous nature. “It’s comin’…you’re not going to hit it…you’re going to crack when it comes…you’re being reckless…” and so on. I identify these ominous voices as self-doubt. I like to fondly call them, my demons. Thankfully, with experience and growth, I have learned to respond to my demons. Now, when they taunt or threaten me before I have to reach for my high belt notes, I, with equal, if not greater force and measure, say back to them, “ZIP IT UP.” I shake them off and I gather strength within myself. As a singer singularly focused on her goals, I summon this strength in all its necessary forms: Postural Strength, Vocal Strength, and Spiritual Strength. I am going to talk about all 3 so that you, a wonderful and perfectly able singer, (and I know there’s one in everyone of you!) may enjoy the glorious opportunity as well, to say to your own demons, “Zip it up,” and ROCK that high note. 

(1) POSTURAL STRENGTH

Postural Strength for me, refers to the way my body is positioned that best allows me to sing efficiently. This does not have to apply just when I’m hitting my high notes. In fact, it is beneficial to have a good posture all the time when it comes to singing, or any other activity even. But when my demons are coming at me full force, instead of caving in to them, I have learned to focus my thoughts on checking quickly that my body is properly aligned in the following ways: 

chest open and relaxed

back/spine not hyperextended

shoulders down

solar plexus “popping out” upon inhalation

feet grounded

torso in a neutral position so that I can with great awareness inhale with a deep abdominal breath and be in control of my exhalation muscles (rectus abdominus, transverse abdominus, the obliques, the intercostals, quadratus lumborum) doing their good work in managing my exhalation. 

With all these in check, my body is ready. It’s strong. It’s grounded. It’s stable. I can breathe easy. Just going through this checklist in my head also helps me not to get caught up with my doubts! When its time for that high note, my body, and the way it is positioned to deal with it like any other note, is ready for it. Reminding myself to get back in a good posture ensures that I am not about to erroneously take a huge breath for my high note. I have learned that a high note does not need an extra big breath. Very often, it is easy to think “ooh high note! I better take a huge breath for it!” Getting back into good posture makes me take a  normal breath from deep down and sing on a steady, even, exhalation stream of air. It almost guarantees that firstly, I will not go sharp when I hit the high note since I did not give too much breath; and secondly, the vocal folds will not “crack” and lose their required tautness since there isn’t too much airflow whooshing through them with too great a force. Postural Strength facilitates ideal breathing. And ideal breathing during singing promotes healthy belting at high pitches. 

(2) VOCAL STRENGTH

When I sing high notes in my belt or upper mix registers, my vocal folds have learned through practice and training, to stay strong even though they’re long. That’s my vocal muscular coordination for belting : strong and long. What do I mean by that? Well, when I belt higher pitches, my vocal folds need to stretch longer and vibrate faster. Because they are stretched out more, they thin out and become lighter. This increases the tendency for the belt to “crack” into a lighter vocal gear, such as head voice. When I train my belt/higher mix registers, I work on teaching my vocal folds to instead, remain in a thicker, more “bulked”, and stronger state as they stretch longer. I am also very mindful that I want my vocal folds to stay strong and thick by their own action as they stretch , and not by erroneously hiking the entire larynx upwards, (this upward movement actually shortens the vocal folds rather than thickens, and compromises the stretch they need for higher pitches). Raising the larynx to sing higher pitches is a common tendency for many untrained voices. 

As I go towards my high note and my demons resolve to make me fail, I resolve to keep my Vocal Strength, and maintain the muscular resilience of my vocal folds as they stretch. To be precise, I coordinate my thyrovocalis muscle to stay involved, to stay engaged, to stay strong.

(3) SPIRITUAL STRENGTH

Lastly, nothing else counters my high-note-demons like these spiritual friends of mine, that I hope can be your friends too if you ever have the need: 

Courage, as an artist to take the necessary risks in order to achieve success. Every time I have to hit a fearful note, that is an artistic risk worth taking. If I don’t, I lose all chances of success. If I do, I may fail, or I can succeed. So I’ll wisely take that chance.

Trust, in all the practice, preparation, training and industry I have disciplined myself to undertake. I am truly ready for this moment!

Gratitude, in knowing that I have already come so far. Instead of always focusing on what I cannot or have yet to achieve, I choose to celebrate the vocal successes I can already call my own. So I just go for it, it doesn’t matter how it turns out. If I fail, I shall pick myself up easily knowing that I have already accomplished much before.

Joy, in the present, in me. I have to simply sing and be myself. I have to love myself and the voice that springs forth from within. No matter what, I have to guard my faith in myself and my destiny as a singer against doubt, anxiety and fear. I have to guard it with joy.

Today, I still fear a high note when I have to belt it. The fear will always be there. The doubts are always lurking in the depths of my soul. But do I know how to face them? Yes I do. As with all kinds of fear and doubt, I wish to fight it with knowledge, practice, love and joy. And I will fight it. Again, and again. 

So…demons, zip it up and stay OUT!