#I complained about the weird oedipus complex

[honorthysalad]

Actually I change my mind, I think if ‘Hikaru’ got confused on his own feelings for Hikaru, on if maybe he likes the real Hikaru like he likes Yoshiki in some twisted version of self-love because his sense of self is derived from another person then that would be interesting.

[molech]

sorry im complaining more about this. on satanicks blog. but satanick introjects are the most annoying pest and nuisance on this site and wherever they may be. forgive me but, the endless complaining about trauma and theyre like always completely maladjusted ive seen one accusing dsp making people have certain kinks that relate to their specific trauma and i can promise you in the years ive been orbiting this fandom no one genuinely wants to fuck their mom because licorice is a weird little rapist. someone genuinely said dsp gave people oedipus complexes. im sorry but thats. hi.

[mostweakhamlets]

Untitled Sheep Project: Vegan Cheese and Wine

CW for mature, semi-explicit beginning. Nothing is described in detail, nothing is actually sexy, but stuff is happening. 

This is an original story in project I’m working on. I’d love to hear any feedback or if anyone enjoys it! It was posted initially on my patreon where I’m gradually building this project up! 

“We’re going to be late.”

“I know, my darling, but it ruins the mood when you keep saying it, and that’s just going to make us even more late.”

Cherry Bomb knew that when she focused too hard on maintaining her arousal, it made the whole situation that much less sexy. Once she felt herself start to lose it, she couldn’t force herself back into the proper mindset. She had to think about what was sexy about looking down at her bored partner propped up on pillows, doing the bare minimum to help her out.

And then her thoughts wandered to what she had to do after: laundry, shopping, meeting a client. In this case, she thought about how she had to shave her legs and how she should really try to put on a little makeup. Then, she thought about what her newest step-sister would look like, and while she had no hard feelings about the woman, she did feel a sense of competition whenever they were going to be in the same room.

She thought about Peggy’s usual well-lined lipstick and neat eye shadow. She owned expensive, luxury brand makeup from across the globe while Cherry Bomb bought most of her makeup at Boots and let it expire in her bathroom before she managed to use even half of it. If she were lucky, her mascara wouldn’t be dried up and clumpy yet.

“Fuck it.”

They lost it.

She climbed off and crawled off the side of the bed, picking her panties off the floor and pulling them back on for the walk to the bathroom. Richard lifted his hands in defeat and threw the sheets off himself.

“I’m glad we wasted our time with that,” he said.

“Don’t start with any of that,” Cherry Bomb mumbled. “Let’s just get ready.”

And half an hour later, when she heard the unmistakable sound of him jerking off in the shower as she left the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, she said nothing.

—

Vegan cheese turned out to taste not much different than dairy cheese, but it was just different enough for Cherry Bomb. She sipped her Spanish rosado wine to wash away the taste of the fake ricotta, and then scraped her tongue on her back teeth to get the coating of sweetness off.

Perhaps if she had been to an actual cheese and wine tasting before, she would know what to compare the vegan option to. Perhaps if she had a more refined palette, she would be able to make better conversation about it.

Her father, meanwhile, spoke about his latest research with the colleagues they had met. They droned on about studies and their results and gave little teasers about what they were going to present.

“You know,” Richard said, keeping his voice low. “The bar has other drinks.”

Cherry Bomb looked over at the bar that stretched across the back corner of the room, partially hidden by the crowd. Servers were leaving with trays of wine and individual people were gathering for hard liquor breaks. She waited for a lull in discussion.

“We’re going to step out for a smoke,” she said.

“Neither of you smoke,” her father said.

“We’re hoping that someone out there might peer-pressure us into it.”

She grabbed Richard’s wrist and pulled him away as he explained that they were just looking for fresh air after their many glasses of wine.

With her generous glass of whiskey and his generous glass of tequila, they stepped outside onto the empty patio. Groups hovered around the garden, smoking and making conversation. Maybe even gossiping about those around them.

Cherry Bomb took a moment to admire Richard. He was in a jumper she insisted he wear because the dark red looked so nice against his complexion and hair. That and she believed that a pale top would be a bad idea for a wine tasting—just in case of accidents. She reached up to re-tuck his white collar into his jumper.

“Can we talk about earlier?” he asked.

Cherry Bomb shrugged and took a sip of her drink. The stinging oakiness to it was a welcomed change from the sweetness of the wines that still clung to her tongue. The flavors did mix horrifically for a moment, but the next sip was that of strong liquor only.

“What should we talk about?” she asked.

“I think it might be time we talk to someone—”

Cherry Bomb cringed. Sex therapy was never something she wanted. She had always associated it with other people—people who had run out of options and were unable to communicate anymore. They were the people her father studied and wrote books and essays on. They were the fake names that appeared in studies next to stories about their failing marriages and deep parental issues.

“I don’t think it’s come to that just yet,” she said. “I don’t want to waste anyone’s time when there’s people who genuinely need that help. Besides, what are they going to tell us that we haven’t read on our own?”

“A lot.”

“I don’t think we need to resort to a therapist.”

“We’ve been having problems for nearly a year,” Richard whispered. “And it is multiple problems at this point. I’m keeping a list.”

“Then, let’s wait until it’s been a full year, okay? If February comes, and we’re still having problems, then I promise you that we can start looking for people. I’ll ask my dad if anyone he knows is taking new patients.”

“And that’s another thing we need to talk about. I don’t want your father involved in our sex life. If we do it, I don’t want him to know.”

“That’s reasonable, and I will respect your boundaries. We can Google it like other people.”

Richard smiled down at her. He looked far too sweet to deny anything. She wanted to cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss on the forehead, but she refrained.

Cherry Bomb watched the people around them. They all looked very posh with swanky dresses and suits and jewelry. But they also all looked the same, obsessed with being perceived as successful and upper class but not wanting to go too far as to look as if they were bragging. Though they definitely were bragging. The dress codes of the upper-middle class were all about being just relatable enough to people below them while also signaling to those above them that they had taste and money to spend as well. It was a balancing act in a circus of classism.  

Cherry Bomb counted only a few women without dyed-brunette, chemically straightened up-dos and two men in blue suits that they were trying so hard to look casual in. They swung their drinks around and pursed their lips and rolled their eyes.

It was who her father had become. Obsessed with appearing not out-of-touch but then flipping a switch once he safely could complain about how much he lost to taxes that year and how his gardener did a poor job planting new bushes.

The patio door swung open. Cherry Bomb looked over her shoulder to see Peggy scan the room before spotting them. Cherry Bomb swallowed the rest of her drink, clearing her throat after.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to get away.” Peggy walked to their side. She smiled at Cherry Bomb. “Your father is a brilliant man, but I cannot, for the life of me, follow what they’re talking about.”

Her eyeliner was perfect. It was a nostalgic style—something that would have fit in in the 1990s and went around her entire eye—and it fit her well. Just like her lipstick and foundation and dress. She wasn’t attractive in the conventional way. Her nose was a bit wide, and her face was more square than most women would have liked theirs to be. But that made her all the more attractive, Cherry Bomb thought. It made her unique, and she seemed to know it judging by how she held herself with so much confidence.

Or maybe she believed that she didn’t need to be attractive. That for her, looks were truly superficial and she had found happiness in her work and personality and social life and it had all reflected back out to give her a clear complexion and a few beautiful, silver wisps of hair.

“Imagine being raised by him,” Cherry Bomb said. “My bedtime stories were about debunking the Oedipus complex—he wanted to start me off with the Introduction to Psych basics.”

Peggy laughed. Cherry Bomb laughed, too, only because the liquor and wine she had had were all catching up to her and making her head float above her shoulders. Laughing made sense to her. Richard pressed his hand into her waist, and it felt distant.

“I’m leaving in a few minutes,” Peggy continued. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Cherry Bomb leaned in for a half-hug and a cheek kiss she would never give anyone else.

Richard leaned in for an awkward hug. Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight, though it wasn’t reciprocated in the slightest. She hummed as she pulled away and smiled up at him, letting her hands rest on his shoulders.

Maybe Peggy wasn’t that great.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” she said.

She walked off the patio and back into the event room. Her heels clicked the entire way.

“That was a bit weird, wasn’t it?” Richard asked. “I didn’t imagine that?”

“No. No, it was weird.”

They looked through the glass doors, eyes on Peggy until she completely disappeared in the crowd. Maybe Cherry Bomb would keep her distance next time they met. Surely, Peggy would catch the hint.

“Do you want to leave and get chips?” Richard asked.

“Fuck, yes. Please.”

[neni-has-ascended]

You Can(Not) UnGay Kaworu Nagisa - An Essay

This is a text-version of my video-essay on the recent Netflix/Evangelion translation controversy. To see the video version, please click here!

I make no secret of the fact that the linguistics involved in Anime and Game translation are one of my primary fields of interest as a Japanologist. Compared to translation between Germanic and Romanic Languages, as the west is used to it, translating from Japanese to English is filled with a plethora of pitfalls, the likes of which can be very difficult to imagine unless you’re fluent in both languages.  

It’s because of this that my interest in any given AniManga controversy immediately skyrockets as soon as the matter of translation issues is brought up. Which brings us to June 21st’s release of Netflix’ Redub of Studio Gainax’ internationally infamous existential creator meltdown disguised as a Mecha Anime, Neon Genesis Evangelion.

1.)    Neon Genesis ADVangelion

For those among you who haven’t yet heard of this inherently controversial work – what rock do you live under and does it still have vacancies? In all seriousness though, enough videos attempting to summarize the plot of NGE exist on the internet to make giving the rundown here an exercise in redundancy. All you need to know is that the protagonist’ name is Shinji and that he’s a mental-wreck with Daddy Issues who pilots a giant cyborg infused with the soul of his dead Mom to fight surrealist alien abominations and gains an increasingly screwed up social life doing so, all while his already fragile psyche gradually declines to world-ending consequences. For far less fatalistic takes on some of these concepts, please see RahXephon and Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann. Good? Good. Let’s move on.

The original ADV Films dub of Neon Genesis Evangelion and its sequels and spin-offs is… not really flawless, to say the least, but it did a good job in introducing the series to a western audience while staying entirely true to the themes and intentions of the original version. This is definitely at least partially thanks to the fact that director and auteur of the series, Hideaki Anno, personally oversaw the translation and dubbing process, and while the guy in all honesty doesn’t really know the first thing about voice acting – his performance as Jiro in The Wind Rises is one of the reasons it’s my least favorite Ghibli movie – what he does understand is his own work, and what it should convey to the audience in order to be authentic to his vision. So while I do have my issues with the ADV dub, such as poor audio-quality and hopeless cases of overacting caused by poor voice direction in certain parts, the translated script of the series was as stellar as could be expected from something created with the original author’s input, and to the very end of the original 26 episodes run, one can definitely feel the deep, emotional investment every single member of the English cast had in these characters and their journey. (I mean. Just listen to Spike Spencer’s secret rant in the end of the last episode. The dude clearly cares about what happens to Shinji.) In any case, this is probably one of the most influential, iconic dubs to all of the English-speaking Anime Fandom.

Then Netflix decided to license NGE. Not the ADV Dub. Just the show.

People were not happy.

2.)    The Rebuild of Netflixgelion

Please do not mistake what I’m saying for pedantic. The iconic nature of the original ADV dub of NGE cannot be understated, and plays a huge role in the current lack of acceptance for the Redub, even though previous similar redubbing efforts, such as in the case of Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon, where welcomed by the community wholeheartedly. The new dub cast is absolutely stellar, including voice acting veterans such as Carrie Keranen and Erica Lindbeck, and Casey Mongillo’s amazing vocal range goes a long way to replicate and convey the emotional depth of Shinji Ikari in a way previously only seen in Megumi Ogata’s original Japanese performance.However, while the Netflix dub has a wonderful cast and voice direction, what it does not have is the original dub’s Hideaki Anno-approved script.

…Aaaaand, this is where the real troubles start.

To be totally clear, the redub always meant trouble. The original voice cast were reportedly never given a real chance to reprise their roles- despite efforts made by the main trio, Spike Spencer, Amanda Winn Lee and Tifanny Grant to at least be given a chance to audition – which is a surefire recipe for upsetting a lot of fans. However, this is a problem that could have at least been partially smoothed over after allowing the performances of the new cast to shine in their own right. I mean, even if it is incredibly scummy to not even inform the old cast of the auditions for the redub, if the new version proves to contain superior performances and direction in comparison to the, honestly badly-aged ADV dub, then Netflix’s decision to make an entirely new dub is entirely understandable, right?

No such arguments can be applied to the retranslation of the show’s script.

3.)    The End of Authorial Intent

I haven’t rewatched the entire show in the new dub, just two key episodes. That said, I wouldn’t dream of calling the new script ‘bad’. It’s, for the most part, natural and faithful to the original Japanese source text in much the same way the ADV dub was, to the point that some stray lines received identical translation in both versions. What gives the new script away as entirely unrelated to that of the ADV dub, however, are some rather…  baffling localization choices. 

All of those decisions are rooted in the original Japanese script. They’re not incorrect translations. If the Japanese were to be your only point of reference, there would be no reason to complain about these choices.

But we do have a point of reference. The ADV script. Which was overseen and approved by Hideaki Anno. The original director.

In the making of this video, I have since learned that Anno’s animation company, Khara, was most likely involved in the translation of the script for the Redub. However, as I can’t find any evidence that he himself was involved, the point I am about to make still stands:

Back in the 90s, very shortly after the show concluded its original run, Anno personally signed off on every single choice the ADV dub made. The respective pronunciations of Nerv, Seele and Gehirn, calling the EVA pilots by the correct singular “Child”, rather than the awkward Engrish singular “Children” the original Japanese featured, and referring to the enemies consistently as Angels, even in parts where the original Japanese mixed up the terminology for the sake of a pun with Kaworu’s name. 

So, all of the ADV localization changes are within the intent of the original author. They are part of how the show is meant to be consumed by a western audience. Not carrying over this terminology, despite it being faithful to the Japanese script, thus ironically makes the Netflix script LESS faithful to Anno’s authorial intent than the ADV dub. But those are only terminology changes, right? They’re not a big deal. They don’t alter the context of the narrative itself.

…

Kaworu Nagisa.

4.)    Kaworu Nagisa

Remember how I mentioned that I only really watched two episodes of the Netflix dub all the way through so far? Well, one of those two episodes happens to be one of the series’ most infamous, right after the two-part finale: Episode 24. “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”, or “The Final Messenger” – Let’s not get hung up on which it is, Evangelion has ALWAYS been weird with titles.

This Episode introduces Kaworu Nagisa, the fifth of the EVA pilots and long-time fangirl-favorite for not-so-subtle reasons. Kaworu appears as Shinji is at his lowest point, our main protagonist’s already pretty much non-existent self-esteem in shambles. The two boys bond immediately over… the fact that Kaworu can sing ‘Ode to Joy’? Yeah, let’s go with that – And the majority of the episode consists of showcasing the growing relationship between Kaworu and Shinji, beginning with simple conversations, but quickly progressing into some more… serious territory.

I won’t sugarcoat things, in terms of narrative structure, the episode is a mess, rushing from scene to scene with reckless abandon, attempting to successfully tell a story in under 25 minutes, that some Disney Movies don’t tell right in 90+ minutes. This is doubtlessly due to the overall mess that NGE’s production process had become at this point in its original run for reasons too complicated to talk about in this video, but let me assure you that there’s pretty solid evidence that Kaworu was definitely originally meant to appear for much more than a single episode. As it stands, however, he dies in the same episode he is introduced, begging Shinji to assist him in his suicide after revealing himself to him as the final Angel. His effect on Shinji, however, is profound and comparable to the effect Nia Teppelin of Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann has on that show’s protagonist, Simon Giha. In that way, just as with Nia later, it is plain as day that Kaworu is intended to be one of Shinji’s love interests. And the episode is NOT subtle at all in portraying him as such.

A lot can be said about the exact nature of Kaworu’s affection for Shinji, from Kaworu clearly seeing Shinji as some sort of avatar for humanity as a whole on which he projects his admiration for the species, to Shinji seemingly falling victim to an idealized Oedipus Complex in regards to his perception of Kaworu, the fact remains that their interactions with one another in Episode 24 are in places obviously romantic to even sexual in not only the dialogue, but also the visuals. Even with Hideaki Anno’s profession that Shinji’s romantic feelings for Kaworu aren’t “carnal”, they’re still obviously there. Projected and skewed by their unusual psyches as aspects of it may be, the relationship between them is clearly portrayed in a way that transcends the platonic and becomes intimate more quickly than your seafood friends can start singing ‘kiss the guy’ on a romantic boat ride – It’s not subtext, you guys. Towards Shinji Ikari, Kaworu Nagisa acts and speaks quite openly like one would speak to a lover. And even if Kaworu and his ambiguous humanity are somehow not gay enough for you, well, resident violently blushing and stuttering smitten wreck Shinji Ikari will put your doubts to rest. The visual homosexual (homoromantic?) tension in these scenes is so tangible, you can cut it with a knife. The dialogue, at certain points, doesn’t even really matter. Kaworu could quite literally be reading off the grocery list, and these scenes would STILL be gay.

That doesn’t mean the dialogue is not important, and that one shouldn’t really, really pay attention to what’s on screen when translating.

5.)    The Final Angel is in the Detail

The translation of Kaworu’s words to Shinji in the Netflix dub is not wrong. But it ignores the context of the scene, as well as authorial intent. And that’s why I understand why people are angry at it.

The lines in question are these : 

(Scene 1)

Kaworu: そう、好意に値することよ。

Shinji: 好意？

Kaworu:「好き」ってこと、さ

(Scene 2)

Shinji: カヲル君が「好きだ」って言ってくれたんだ。僕のこと。初めて…初めて人から「好きだ」って言われたんだ。

In the ADV dub, these lines were translated like this: 

(Scene 1)

Kaworu: This is worth earning my empathy.

Shinji: Empathy?

Kaworu: I’m saying “I love you.”  

(Scene 2)

Shinji: Kaworu said that he loved me. I’ve never... felt such kindness before.

In the Netflix dub, however, they were translated like this: 

(Scene 1)

Kaworu: Yes, you’re worthy of my grace.

Shinji: Your grace?

Kaworu: I’m saying “I like you.”  

(Scene 2)

Shinji: Kaworu said I was worthy of his grace. That was the first time... someone told me they liked me.

Which one of these is right? The fact is… both are.

The Japanese term “ 好き ” doesn’t really have a direct equivalent in English. It holds a connotation that is meant to convey very personal, but broadly defined affection. It doesn’t simply mean “to like something”. It means to feel a strong, positive, emotional connection to that person of thing. For that reason, this term can be used to profess affection to your friends, your family, your favorite item… Or as a love-confession. 

In Japan, love-confessions using “ 好き ” are a lot, lot more common than the much, much stronger term “愛する”, let alone the implicitly sexual term “恋する”. In most romance Manga, “ 好き ” will be the term of choice the heroine uses to confess her love to her object of affection. And though, via character analysis, a strong argument can be made that when Kaworu uses “ 好き ” to express his affection for Shinji, he means general affection towards Shinji’s humanity more than personal, romantic affection, this is clearly not how Shinji takes Kaworu’s words. To Shinji, what Kaworu said in that moment, definitely sounded like a confession of romantic devotion, which becomes very, very clear when Shinji later tells Misato: 

Shinji: 初めて人から「好きだ」って言われたんだ。

With the line being translates as “I like you”, this statement of Shinji sounds like pure delusion, which wouldn’t be out of character for him, of course, but isn’t at all what the episode is trying to get across. Of course people have told Shinji before they ‘like’ something about him! That’s a big part of the reason he started defining himself through his status as pilot of EVA Unit 01; his efforts earned him praise from those around him. He had friends for most of the series, at least implicitly, these people have definitely expressed a ‘liking’ for him. So by translating “好き” as “like” in this context, a whole layer of the statement is lost, and Shinji professing that this was the first time anybody has ever said that they “like” him sounds less like a serious revelation about his character, and more like his typical, delusional whining about how the world hates him.

And I think that’s why Anno signed off on the ADV dub translating the line as “I love you” rather than “I like you”. Because the point of this line is not Shinji thinking that Kaworu is the only person who’s ever tolerated his presence. It’s that Shinji feels like Kaworu was the first person to ever have a genuine, emotional connection to him. Something he’s never allowed himself to have, due to the series’ often cited theme of Hedgehog’s Dilemma.

And, as correct as translating “ 好き ” as “like” is,  a whole dimension of Episode 24 of NGE is entirely lost if you choose to translate Kaworu’s lines that way. As much sense as it technically makes.

The Netflix dub of NGE, by all measures known to me, is a very well-acted, well-directed, well-translated version of a classic piece of Animation History. I am not telling anyone that it is in any way bad or even inferior to the original, and I am not telling anyone to avoid it.

All I am saying is, that if you, as a translator, have access to references regarding authorial intent you should probably use them.

[lickstynine]

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Eleven

written with @ocsickficsideblog

Kit didn't sleep too well that night; he'd dozed off fine at first, but the encounter with his father had left a deep dent of anxiety in his already-soiled psyche. He tossed and turned throughout the night, asleep but hardly resting. When the doctor came in the next morning, just the slight creak of the door jolted Kit awake.

Alistair groaned, pulling the floppy pillow over his face. He never was too good with mornings. The doctor scrutinised him expressionlessly, then turned to Kit. “Will you be staying at his residence? I need him awake if he’ll be your primary carer.”

Kit nodded, still a little shaky even as he recognized the doctor. He prodded at Alistair briskly until he seemed reasonably awake, sitting up with Kit still on his lap.

“Al, we… we get to leave now.” Kit mumbled. He was trembling faintly, staring down at the sheets rather than facing the doctor.

Alistair brightened at once. “Oh, that’s great!” He nodded impatiently as the doctor handed him dietary plans and rattled off information, wanting to get him out the room for Kit’s sake. The doctor made him repeat stuff back, trying to insure that Alistair was actually listening. It clearly annoyed Alistair, but he managed to parrot everything, and the doctor finally left, saying he’d take care of the discharge paperwork.

When the doctor walked away, Kit wrapped his skinny arms around Alistair in a tight hug. “Thanks.”

Alistair hugged him hard. “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Kit let out a small squeak when his cousin squeezed him, but he nodded. “Is Julie coming to pick us up?”

“Yep. I sent him a message. You staying in your pyjamas?”

“Do I have a change of clothes?” Kit asked, looking around.

“Probably. I didn’t pack your bag, Jules did it,” Alistair said, going to rifle through it. “You have the very crumpled ones from that night…”

Kit shook his head. “I'd been wearing those for like a day and a half already.”

“Pyjamas it is then. It’s alright, I’m leaving in mine.”

Kit sighed dramatically. “How low have I sunken?”

“Oh, there’s way lower than this, trust me. Here, swing your legs over, you need your shoes on. Unless I’m carrying you.”

“You’re not.” Kit replied firmly. “It’s bad enough to walk out in my pyjamas.”

“Nobody cares in a hospital. I haven’t walked anywhere dressed ever since you were admitted, and nobody said a thing. I even got chips from the cafe and nobody even stared.”

“I care.” Kit muttered, feeling like some shitty Cinderella as he held out a foot to be shoe-d.

“I’m putting them on for you then?” Alistair grinned, carefully slipping Kit’s feet into his shoes and tying the laces in messy bunny-ears bows.

“Yes.” Kit replied. He tried to make his tone snobby and serious, but he was grinning back.

“Shall I comb master’s hair too? And of course, someone so wealthy and with such noble blood couldn’t be expected to wipe their own arse…”

“That’s what your favourite drinking fountains are for.” Kit smirked.

“Oh, you bitch,” Alistair laughed, slipping out of character.

Kit cackled as well, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s just go before the doctors come up with another reason to keep me here.” He hopped off the edge of the bed, wobbling and grabbing onto Alistair. “Shit…” After spending 95% of the last week lying down, his legs weren’t feeling very sturdy.

“Sure you don’t want to be carried?” Alistair said, wrapping his arm around Kit’s skinny waist.

“Please don’t. I’d like to keep a shred of my dignity.”

“Put your arm around my shoulders then. We’ll go slow.”

Kit nodded, latching onto his cousin. “Thanks.”

Alistair supported Kit down the long hospital corridors, their bag swinging from his free arm. He let Kit set the pace and hauled him back up whenever he wobbled. They had to pause a few times when Kit got tired, but they eventually made it out the front entrance, where Julius was patiently waiting.

He ran forward to help with the bag, hugging both boys in turn. “It’s so good to have you coming back home!”

“Thanks for coming to get us.” Kit forced a smile, but he was winded just from the walk through the hospital. Alistair bundled him into the back of the car, making him sit and sip water. Kit leaned on his cousin, sleepy and spacey but relatively cooperative. By the time they got back to the flat, he was halfway asleep on Alistair’s shoulder.

Alistair didn’t bother to ask permission this time, simply scooping Kit into his arms and carrying him upstairs. The older boy didn’t complain, looping his arms around Alistair’s neck. Alistair sat with him on the sofa, letting Kit stay on his lap. He’d got so used to his cousin’s warm weight on top of him the past few days. Kit didn’t object, so drowsy he didn’t notice or care when Star jumped onto his lap with a meow. Alistair carefully eased the cat onto the arm of the sofa, where she settled happily enough, starting to purr when Alistair scratched between her ears.

Kit smiled sleepily at the Star, but his expression shifted when he noticed the brown leather she was sitting on. The gears of his brain took a second to start turning, but then he sat up. “I never gave that poor girl her jacket back…”

Alistair nodded. “Call her.”

“Now?” Kit looked nervous. He also had no idea where his phone was.

“Well, you don’t have to. But you were in hospital a while, she probably thinks you’re not getting in touch.”

Kit sighed. “Oh, god, you’re right… Where is my phone? I haven’t seen it all week.”

“I put it in your bag,” Julius said, going through it. “I’ll have to put it on charge, but it’ll still reach.”

“Oh, thank you.” Kit smiled at Julius. “You've already been such a darling, but can I ask you one more favor?”

“Of course you can! You can ask me anything.” Julius smiled warmly - he liked being called a darling. Alistair wasn’t very big on pet names unless Julius was particularly sad or sick, and even then it was usually just “love.”

“Could you make me some tea? Please?”

“Of course! That’s no trouble,” Julius said cheerily, trotting off to the kitchen.

“Earl grey, if you have it!” Kit called after him.

“I know!” Julius called back.

“Thank you!” Kit looked down at his phone, nervously chewing his lip.

“Just text her,” Alistair said.

“But I'm not good at texting!” Kit cried. “What do I even say?”

“Just something like “hey, sorry I’ve been busy and didn’t get back to you sooner, you free to pick up your jacket?” It’s not hard,” Alistair said.

Kit sighed, muttering something to himself as he started to type.

Hi, it's Kit. We met at the bar about a week ago. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I have your jacket. You can come pick it up, or I can have my driver bring it to you.

He sent it before he could overthink it, then showed the message to Alistair. “Is that okay?”

Alistair nodded. “Yeah, perfect.”

Julius came back in with Kit’s tea. “What’s perfect?”

“I'm messaging the girl whose jacket I have.”

“Oh, yes! The girl with the lovely red hair.”

“She had red hair?” Kit looked up from his phone, surprised.

“You don’t remember?” Alistair laughed.

Kit shook his head. “I drank half my body weight in whiskey that night. I could’ve left the planet and I wouldn’t remember.”

“So you don’t remember a single thing about this girl?”

Kit deflated, staring shamefully down at his tea. “No.”

“It’s okay,” Julius said gently. “You’d had a rough day.”

“What do you remember about her?” Kit asked, looking up at Julius.

“Irish accent. Looked very strong, and tall, but everyone seems tall to me. Older than you, but pretty. Lovely smile.”

Kit nodded thoughtfully. “Mum was Irish…” He mused, sipping his tea.

“You haven’t got some weird Oedipus complex going, have you?” Alistair asked.  

“Obviously not.” Kit scoffed, “I was just thinking, it’d be interesting. I never knew much of mum’s family, so I don’t know that culture.”

“You can learn from her then. Your pretty little Galway Girl.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Is that the extent of your knowledge of Irish culture?”

“I know about some of the folk lore. And a lot about the Troubles. But that’s it.”

“All I really know are some of the songs Mum used to sing.” Kit admitted.

Alistair sighed, nodding. “I can play them on my violin,” he said quietly. He’d never told Kit that before; it had been a private thing, something he was almost embarrassed about. He didn’t want to butcher the songs he still couldn’t listen to without hearing Fox’s voice. “I can the words too. It took bloody ages to master Gaelic Irish.”

Kit suddenly lit up, looking at his cousin with wide eyes. “Really?”

Alistair blinked, though he was delighted to see that expression on Kit’s face. “Yeah. I know all the ones she’d sing. Some others too, but hers are special.” He paused. “I can play them if you want. But I can’t sing like auntie did. And don’t watch me. That freaks me out. I’ll turn my back to you.”

Kit nodded eagerly. “I won’t stare. I just want to hear.”

Alistair nodded, grabbing his violin and slinking back awkwardly. Julius sat by Kit on the sofa, eager to hear too - Alistair rarely played even for him.

“Don’t laugh,” Alistair mumbled, convinced he’d sound awful, though he had a nice enough voice and he knew the songs backwards.

Kit rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t planning to.” He sipped his tea, staring off down the hall as he waited for his cousin to start playing.

Alistair took a deep breath, starting to play and sing. His pronunciation was perfect after practising so much at the songs, and he always became swept up in the music when he played. There was such soft love to the melody and in his voice as he sang, remembering being rocked to sleep as Fox sang to him.

The first few notes were lovely but unremarkable; however, when Alistair started to sing, Kit went still where he sat. While the music was vaguely familiar, the lyrics had burst through a dam of old memories. He sat, holding his tea but not drinking it, totally transfixed as he gazed off into the middle distance. He wasn't even aware of the tears welling in his eyes. Julius shuffled over and held Kit’s hand tight. Kit leaned on him at once, his lower lip quivering as he smiled.

Alistair played on, singing songs that were mostly about lost loves, the tunes soft and melodious enough to soothe small children - they hadn’t asked what the words meant back when Fox sang them. They were just sweet songs that lulled them to sleep in her arms. Kit barely even processed what they mean, so overwhelmed by the memories that it almost hurt.

It took more than an hour for Alistair to get through all the songs he remembered. His voice was growing husky by then, his own eyes damp. When he stopped playing, Kit's arms latched around his waist, pulling him close. Alistair turned around to hug him properly, putting down his violin. Kit leaned into him at once, finally breaking down in proper tears.

Alistair winced, holding him closer. “Oh Kit, don’t…”

“It's not… I don't… you… you played really well… I just… I miss her, Al…” Kit sniffled, clinging tightly to his cousin.

Alistair nodded, letting his chin rest on Kit’s head. “I know,” he whispered.

Kit nestled against him, continuing to sniffle for a while. He slowly settled down, and was quite content when his phone dinged, the sound making him jump.

Alistair nudged Kit eagerly. “Answer it! It’ll be Galway Girl.”

“Please don't call her that if she comes over.” Kit begged, picking up his phone. It was, of course, the girl.

I'm out. I can come pick it up, long as you don't mind me bringing my dog.

Kit furrowed his brows, showing the message to Alistair since it wasn't his house.

Alistair’s eyes brightened at once. “Yeah! Tell her to bring her dog!”

Kit nodded, turning his phone back so he could type. That's fine, go ahead. The address is Kit paused, looking up at his cousin. “What's your address?”

“You don’t know?”

Kit went red. “No! I know how to walk here, but I don’t know the street number.”

Alistair rolled his eyes, grabbing Kit’s phone and typing the address. Kit just shamefully took the phone back to finish sending the message. This time he got a prompt reply.

Be there in 30. That alright?

Yeah, that’s fine. See you then. Kit tucked his phone in his pocket, nervously chewing his lip. “She’s coming in half an hour…”

“Okay,” Alistair said, shrugging. “Why’d you look so nervous?”

“I don’t know! I’m not sure what to say when I see her, and I’m not really in a state to be having visitors, but I didn’t want to keep hoarding her jacket, and oh lord, I need to change…” Kit fussed, scrambling to his feet in search of his duffel bag.

Alistair rolled his eyes. “Just say you were in hospital. She’ll understand. And you still look pretty anyway.”

“I still want to be dressed.” Kit grumbled. “It was bad enough the people at the hospital saw me like this. Where did my bag end up?”

“I saved it,” Julius said, going to fetch it. He handed it to Kit. “I didn’t want to mess with your things, I just took the bottle away.”

Kit nodded. “Thank you.” He thumbed through the bag until he found a cohesive outfit: dark charcoal slacks and a warm burgundy jumper. “This will do. I’ll be back.” He shuffled off to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

“Don’t faint,” Alistair called, half-serious.

“No promises.” Kit was clearly teasing, and he came back a few minutes later, still running a brush through his hair. “It’s not ideal, but I look better than I did at least.”

“You look lovely,” Julius said.

“You're too kind, Julie.” Kit nudged Star off of the jacket so he could dust it off and smooth it. She made a small, indignant noise, leaping onto Kit’s shoulders. He yelped, giving Alistair a desperate help me look. Alistair giggled, carefully lifting Star onto his lap instead.

Kit sighed in relief. “Thank you.” He set the jacket carefully on the back of a kitchen chair, pacing nervously.

Alistair didn’t bother getting dressed, sighing at Kit. “She’s not going to eat you.”

“I didn't think she would. I just want to make a good impression.”

“She remembers the real first time you met.”

Kit paused, his face falling. “Oh… she does, doesn't she?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Alistair said immediately. He was such a pushover with Kit. “She can’t think you’re a tit if she’s coming over.”

“She probably just wants her jacket back.” Kit plunked onto the couch with a sigh. “I don't know what I was getting in my head about.”

“She’d have got it back on the night if she didn’t want to see you. Trust me, she wants to pork you.” Alistair grinned.

“That's a bit presumptuous… maybe she's just nice. She could be a lesbian for all we know.” Kit mumbled unsurely, but he got back up and started pacing again.

“Did she look like a lesbian, Jules?”

“How does one look like a lesbian?” Julius giggled. “We’re not all rainbow coloured.”

“Don’t you have gaydar?”

“I spoke to the girl for two minutes. She had no reason to tell me that. But I do think she wants to see you if she left you her number, Kit.”

Kit nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe. But I'm not getting my hopes up.”

“Well, we’ll see how it goes.”

Kit nodded again, checking his phone for the time. “She should be here in about ten minutes.”

“Are you gonna sit down, Kit? You’re not strong enough to keep pacing,” Alistair fussed.

“I'm not that frail.” Despite his words, Kit was starting to wear himself out.

“It’s normal! You just came out of hospital!”

Kit sighed, but he dropped onto the couch again. “Yeah, for like the thousandth time.”

Alistair smiled. “We should have kept count. Could have got in the records.”

“I'd rather not be known for that.” Kit rolled his eyes.

“You’ll be known for something special one day, Kit,” Alistair said, without a hint of doubt.

The older boy scoffed. “Only if my father kills me and gets caught.”

“No,” Alistair said firmly. “That’s not happening. But I mean it.”

“Since when are you the resident optimist?”

“I’m not. I’m just extremely biased.” He grinned at Kit.

“You’re an extreme idiot is what you are.” Kit mumbled, leaning against his cousin.

“You are,” Alistair said lovingly, playing with Kit’s hair. Julius smiled at them fondly. Kit settled against his cousin, quiet and cozy for about fifteen minutes. He was startled out of his state of content by a knocking at the door, and he sat upright, looking at the younger boys in a panic.

“She’s here.”

[mimikilstories]

Miracles of Arx Nubibus Chapter 1

"So how'd you do on the test?" Hank asked as he walked beside Joey through the residential area. Joey shrugged. 

"Probably about as well as anyone. I just hope I pass." 

"Man, I am not jealous of you. All that brain stuff goes over my head." 

"Psychology is not that bad, Hank." Joey laughed and gave his friend a punch on the shoulder. 

"Have they told you about that one super old dude from before Arx that thought dreams led back to a...what was it called? Some kind of complex where you wanna marry your mom or something." 

"Oedipus complex? And yes I have heard of Freud. Also there was more to his theories than just that, even if a lot of them dealt with repressed sexual desires. The old world had some strange ideas." Joey shook his head. The old world - the surface world people lived on prior to Arx Nubibus - had boasted some impressive technological accomplishments, but some things were totally off the mark.

He'd learned about some weird stuff in his university psychology classes. Like how mental illness used to be thought of as a form of demon possession. Or, apparently in the ancient world some people thought that the distribution of bodily fluids determined one's personality. Something about blood and bile. That had been a while ago, so Joey couldn't quite remember it perfectly. 

"I have a stupid math exam tomorrow," Hank complained. "I don't want to know about integrals. What do I look like to you?" 

"Not a math person," Joey replied with a laugh. 

They were walking across one of the residential bridges. Hank's place was just on the other side and Joey's was about a block farther and up a flight of stairs. The artificial sun lights were on at this time of day, even though the real sunlight still came filtering down between the buildings. The bridge they were on was fairly quiet, and below they could hear kids getting out of school. Most of them would walk home from there, some accompanied by parents and some not. 

Then there was something off. Joey and Hank stopped in their tracks. Three people stood around them. Of course, these people had been walking with them for a bit, which they hadn't thought anything of. Plenty of people used the roads. But one of these people held a raygun pointed at the two of them. One of the other two spoke up. 

"Hand over your cash and we'll let you go." 

Crap. Joey didn't have much cash, but he knew Hank kept a decent chunk on his person. 

What do I do here? 

Joey slowly reached for his wallet, but Hank stood his ground. 

"Why should we? Gimme one reason we don't call the military on you." 

"I'd say a raygun is a pretty good reason," Joey said, carefully keeping his voice level. 

"Calling the military," Hank said, grabbing his phone. One of the guys without the raygun leaped at him, trying to wrest the device from Hank's hand. 

Joey couldn't just leave the guy to himself. He moved between them, pushing their assailant away and trying to calm Hank down before they both got shot. The other guy was getting in on it too. Joey didn't know what was happening anymore. Everything was a blur. Someone shoved him and his back hit against the railing. The raygun was still pointed at them. 

Then as Hank tried to keep his phone from them, one pushed Joey a little too hard on the shoulders in an attempt to reach it, which Hank was now holding over empty air. Joey tried to stabilize himself by grabbing the railing, but everything was happening too fast. He felt his body tip, and then he was in freefall. 

"Joey!" He heard Hank yell as he flew down past the various buildings in the business district. Five full stories of it. 

Crap. Is this how I die? Joey found himself thinking before he felt his shoulder hit the ground. 

 The next time Joey opened his eyes, harsh hospital lights met him, making his eyes hurt and everything blurry and smeared. He was connected to a breathing apparatus, and he couldn't move. He looked around at the bland room and tried to move his fingers at least. They moved, but his arms were locked in place. Toes? Slight twitch, legs also immobile. But it wasn't for lack of ability. As his eyes flickered over himself, Joey realized he was in a lot of casts. 

Well, I probably broke almost every bone in my body, he thought drowsily. His eyes slowly drifted closed again. 

 Someone was standing in front of him. He couldn't see their face or make out any physical characteristics, but there was a figure there, glowing with a soft purple aura. Joey tried to look around, but his vision seemed to be fixed. The figure opened its mouth and spoke. 

"How tragic. You try to help your friend, and end up crippled because of it. Poor young man. Don't worry. This will never happen to you again. I'll grant you...a Miracle." The voice faded to a whisper. 

His vision faded and something seemed to settle in his bones. 

 Three months later, Joey was sitting at home playing on his brother's gaming PC. Ned had recently been gushing about some new game by Bluebird and Joey was trying it out. Since he'd shattered a good chunk of the bones in his body during the fall, he'd gotten an exemption to withdraw from university for the year. He'd start again when the new school year began, but for now he was focusing on recovering. Lying in a bed for two months was not good for his muscle mass, and rehab was taking a while. 

The game was fairly simple as far as modern titles went. Well, at least it looked that way at first. The graphics had more points than most, and were reminiscent of those really old games where everything was a triangle, even the people. Despite the graphical shortcomings, Bluebird's games were pretty well-loved by a lot of people. This one was about an adventure on the surface world before Arx rose into the air, in a country called Peru. 

The world already seemed fairly impressive. The map was huge, and from what Ned had said every inch of it was stuffed with detail, from complex NPC interactions to a city library full of books you could actually read. They weren't long books, but the amount of writing was impressive. And apparently the physics engine was top-class. Mostly stuff that went over Joey's head, but what else was he going to do with his time off? 

His phone beeped and he paused the game. Another news article on "Achilles" the hero. About two months before Joey's accident, Achilles had showed up and started fighting crime in a disguise like those super hero comics. They'd apparently been quite popular in the old world, but nowadays they were falling out of fashion. Joey wasn't sure if Achilles was a publicity stunt to reboot the popularity of superhero stories, a nutcase who wanted fame without the drawbacks or an actual legit hero. 

Apparently Achilles had a power that meant no weapon could harm him, much like some old hero in a poem or something. He'd mentioned it in an interview, but the reference was lost on Joey. Apparently Achilles had once again saved the day when some jerks tried to rob an antique store. 

Why couldn't Achilles have shown up before I got shoved off a bridge? Joey thought absentmindedly. Some luck he had. Last year he'd had better grades than most of his classmates, and now he was going to be behind a year. 

Joey closed the article and started the game again. His polygonal character was climbing up some vines. He couldn't help thinking that if the graphics were anywhere near decent the game would be gorgeous to see. Ned said it couldn't be helped since Bluebird was a single person making massive games, but that didn't change what a shame it was. 

His phone dinged again and Joey paused the game to check it. A text from his mom. 

plz start supper. meat ready to go.

Joey quit the game and hoisted himself on his shaky legs. The kitchen was just downstairs, and he carefully picked his way along the railing. Or he would have, if his left leg hadn't decided to just give out on him. 

Crap! 

It was all Joey could comprehend as he tumbled down the stairs and hit his head on the hard floor. He winced. Everything hurt, but at least he could still move. He checked each limb for injuries as he moved to stand up, and everything was working. At least it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. Maybe falling five stories made a tumble down the stairs feel like a walk in the park. 

He headed for the fridge and pulled out the meat and a pan to cook it in. 

 His parents and Ned were home soon after for supper, and after listening to Ned gush for a while about his new game, they watched their mom's favorite TV drama. Around nine, Joey made it to bed. By then, he'd almost completely forgotten about falling down the stairs earlier. 

The next morning he remembered again, but didn't feel any different. Nothing hurt any more than it had before, and there weren't even any new bruises. It seemed weird, but for now Joey decided to just be happy that he wasn't more injured.