#I just can’t stop giving these robots trauma!!!!! Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [PART 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Don’t Let it Reach the Heart]

Finally! Part 3 is here!! yippee!!! As a refresher, this takes place at the beginning of season 9, when Doc and Xisuma try to boot Etho back up after he shuts down pre-Season 8 Finale, set to the vibes of Joywave’s Destruction from DBHC Etho’s playlist! Ouguguh I’ve been looking forward to posting this part so much; it has some of my favorite shots so far… something about the grey-fade of Doc going into shock, something about the last two pages with xisuma and doc’s expressions… idk!! i really loved working on these :] Hope you’re enjoying the horrific, horrific ride!! =w=

As a partially insignificant but Special-To-Me note: Xisuma has always referred to dbhc doc as “Docm”— this is actually the first time X ever calls him “Doc.”

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on Even More Games

[vague, unspecific spoilers for Heaven’s Vault, Later Alligator, and Life is Strange 2]

Thoughts on Heaven’s Vault

Heaven’s Vault is a game about archeology, which means it’s also a game about incompleteness. This is very clever. Inkle - also the developers of 80 Days, which I will play someday! - specialize in deep narratives that can be explored many, many ways, allowing for a lot of player choice. You make a lot of small decisions - do you share a discovery with the trader in exchange for a valuable item, or hide it so he doesn’t plunder it? do you go looking for your missing friend, or let her stay missing in case there are people trying to follow you to her? These all have their own little arcs and resolutions, and there are so many of them, and so many ways they can play out, that the game can never be played the same way twice. The overall story begins and ends in the same place and theoretically hits the same major beats, but the journey is tailored broadly and finely to each player; it’s a style of design Aaron A. Reed refers to as “not... a branching tree but a braided rope.”

Making a narrative about archeology is how you dodge the exponentially complicated nature of that design: if there are dozens of locations, characters, plot threads, bits of color, which can be engaged with at many points in time, or ignored, or dropped by the player halfway through, how do you avoid telling a story full of gaps and dead ends? Well... you don’t. Having only partial information and having to infer the rest is what archeology is.

The protagonist of Heaven’s Vault, Aliya, is digging up the secrets of an ancient civilization, having been sent by her academy to find a researcher who’s gone missing, and stumbling into his incredible discovery. Everywhere she goes, there are holes: she has partial understanding of the researcher’s journey and motives; he, in turn, had partial understanding of the mystery he was uncovering, and Aliya has only fragments of his knowledge; the ancient texts she translates are usually fragments of larger works, and she is guessing at the meanings of many of the words; the game’s constantly updating historical timeline has entire centuries with nothing but question marks. Aliya arrives in a new location and wonders aloud to her robot companion about what this place was, when it was founded, when it was abandoned, how her predecessor found his way her and where he went next and what he took with him.

The constant feeling of discovery - of unearthing - is magnificent. Site after site, I asked, “What is this place?” Always thinking, if the eventual answer is any good, this is going to be one of the best games I’ve ever played. And, in the end, it doesn’t give you an answer, it just give you enough to make the story feel complete. It answers by not answering.

Also, translating alien texts is just extremely my jam. I’m the weirdo who enjoyed the ending of Arrival but secretly wished the whole movie had been about xenolinguistics like the first half. I guess Inkle felt similar.

The game’s by no means perfect. I think I enjoyed the sailing between worlds more than most - it’s slow, but very pretty - but it’s going to discourage a replay. I don’t think the relationship between Aliya and her robot, Six, ever gets terribly interesting. Some of the archeology is a little too obviously game-y - sail around, wait to find a random ruin, beam Six down to grab an ancient doodad, translate a bit of text, lo and behold it’s from one of the sites you’re looking for and it’s narrowed your search radius somehow. (It gives Star Trek explanations the first few times - e.g. “it has radiation that only exists in one part of the nebula” - and then stops bothering.) And the game sags a little in the middle; it could’ve hacked out 3 or 4 dig sites and still given me the same experience.

But, all told, there’s magic in it, and it just feels good to be there. Do not sleep on this one.

Thoughts on Later Alligator

There’s not a ton to say about this game except that is charming as hell. Lindsay and Alex Small-Butera have build a beautifully animated world of cute alligators, one of whom is having a birthday party where he’s convinced he’s going to be murdered. He wants you to run around getting information out of everyone who’s going to be there, which you get by completing minigames. It’s a cast of weird and funny characters with weird and funny dialogue and there’s not much more to it than that.

The design can be a little frustrating. Some minigames, if you lose, you don’t get to try again. Some are annoyingly finicky. You need to complete them all to get the true ending, which means, in my case, playing the game three times to complete all the bits you missed or got locked out of. The ending was a little different each time, so it wasn’t a total wash, but the game’s on a timer that only advances when you play a game or take the bus, and once you’ve completed most of the games there’s a lot of traveling back and forth from one nowhere to another just to advance time to the next unskippable plot beat.

(It’s also a little unclear what you’re missing as you try to get the final ending, as some of the ongoing puzzle are optional.)

But I can’t get mad. The game is too damn cute! Each character is lively and unique, with tons of personality, and the dialogue is just clever enough not to fall into empty adorkability.

It good.

Thoughts on Life is Strange 2

Somewhere, early in the development of Life is Strange 2, some Dontnod employee wrote in a design document “Episode 4 - cult?” (but in French) and nobody told them “no.”

I will not forgive them for this,

After twenty minutes of LiS2, I was ready to yell at everyone who had reported it was boring. It has one of the most powerful, gut-punching openings of any game I’ve played in recent memory. And all through the first, second, and third episodes, I was in love. Unlike Before the Storm, this was its own creature, willing to make dramatic departures from the original game’s template. Instead of controlling a character with supernatural powers, you play as the superpowered character’s older brother. The one with the magic is a 9-year-old, unable to fully understand or control his abilities, suffering a recent trauma, and needing to be guided through a dangerous and racist world. All the ambition missing from Before the Storm is back, and this time the animation isn’t creepy and the writing is wildly improved (thanks to some journeyman script work from Fullbright’s Steve Gaynor) and I even have a computer able to play it on higher graphical settings.

But nothing good lasts.

Everything good about the series screeches to a halt in Episode 4, the one where some asshole said “cult?” and didn’t get a Nerf football thrown at their head. And it’s not just that it’s a terrible idea; it’s actually sort of amazing how much the game relies on an alchemy of plot, tone, theme, and writing, and how a slight imbalance can throw the whole thing off. Episode 4 has scene after scene that are powerful in their conception - brothers reunited after a violent rift; a boy having his first conversation with his estranged mother in nearly a decade; getting interrogated by the feds for a crime that can’t even be explained by physics - fall flat because the writers can’t think of anything interesting for the characters to say. (Steve Gaynor’s name stops appearing in the credits as of this episode.)

And here the game’s rickety bits, kept delicately together for three episodes, start to shake apart. Dontnod’s overly-earnest voice direction, which I didn’t notice in the early episodes, started to wear me down. (”Could you sigh mid-syllable, like you’re slightly overwhelmed with emotion?” “Sure, on which line?” “All of them.”) The thinness of the secondary characters, most of whom pop up for one episode and disappear, became more noticeable. The lack of a mechanical hook like the time rewinding of the original game, and the attendant commentary on choice-based games and power fantasies, made the game feel less substantial. The surreal imagery of the original, obligatorily evoked in the prequel, is sensibly absent, but there’s nothing equally striking that replaces it. Even the branching path decisions become less clear: the end-of-episode stat screens for the final episodes mentioned at least a dozen choices I didn’t even know I’d made, some of which were critical in shaping my younger brother’s morality and were not necessarily the choices I’d have made if I’d known I was making a choice at all.

Come the final episode, I got An Ending that seemed right for the way I’d played, but much of the way I’d played felt accidental.

So what are we to make of this? Life is Strange is a beautiful disaster, an ambitious disaster, where Life is Strange 2 is almost less interesting for being  more competent. It has a huge mess of charged topics - American racism, teens losing their virginity, raising a child outside the nuclear family, grief and trauma - and, while it handles them without the gracelessness and sledgehammer subtlety of the original, it doesn’t come to any conclusions about any of them. LiS1, for all its jank, had some opinions, where LiS2 falls into the category of “this sure is some shit, innit?” games.

It starts with a powerful premise, deeply relatable characters, fine writing, beautiful art, but can’t even manage, in the end, to be a disaster. It is the only game in the series so far to be forgettable.

[thanksjro]

Spotlight: Hoist - This One’s About the Guy I Keep Mistaking for Hound.

It’s time to focus on the straight man. Not, like, straight as in hetero. Don’t get it twisted, Hoist is queer by default just like every Cybertronian in IDW, not that that’s been established in-canon just yet. No, Hoist is the straight man because he’s the grounding line in this issue.

Hoist, as established during Spotlight: Trailcutter, is off the Lost Light currently on a mission. At this exact moment, he’s running from something.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Hoist!

No, he manages to escape Tarn’s grasp by doing some sweet grappling hook drifting using his tow line, and books it for the crashed shuttle that all his fellow mission-goers are hiding out in. Missionaries, if you will. Looks like Swerve left right after Trailcutter hung up on him, so it’s probably for the best that he didn’t get that forcefield around his voice box. Can’t imagine it working at that long a range. Sunstreaker’s here, along with his pet, Bob. Sunstreaker’s feeling a little salty right now, probably because he’s supposed to be the handsome one, and instead he’s got some sort of face thing going on in this issue.

Yeah, nobody looks quite right in Spotlight: Hoist. Then again, maybe I just don’t get Cybertronian beauty standards.

On that note, let’s take a real quick look at our interior artist for this issue, Agustin Padilla. Padilla doesn’t have a ton of work within the Transformers franchise, but he’s worked on some iconic pieces- specifically, MTMTE #16, The Gloaming. 

Yeah, THAT one. We’ll get more into his work when we hit that issue, I promise.

Back to the story at hand: Hoist puts on the cloaking device for the ship, hiding them from Tarn, then gripes to Swerve about the scanner scope being a huge friggin’ liar, because it said that there wasn’t a gotdang thing out there, because there clearly is. Swerve is less than thrilled by the prospect of having Tarn in the general vicinity, to the point that he forgets how to talk for a solid .5 seconds. Swerve’s seen the DJD in action, and it’s not pretty.

They’ve got six hours before the cloaking shields drain the power, then it’s goodbye Safetytown, hello Murderville. So, what better way to spend their final hours than by sniping at one another over things like fault and who’s gotten the shortest end of the stick here?

Looks like Perceptor has a pretty strong lead on all the other guys, seeing as his legs have become one with the ship. Hoist’s busy trying to get in touch with the Lost Light, though no one’s picking up. Gee, wonder why.

Swerve is really in a needling mood, as he asks Sunstreaker where his apology is, seeing as he was the one piloting the ship when they crashed. Sunstreaker blows a gasket for a second over the fact that all he seems to do these days is apologize. Hoist manages to calm the situation and change the topic pretty smoothly, as he fiddles around with the internals of the shuttle to try and get the Lost Light’s attention.

Good at multitasking, Hoist is.

We get the backstory on Bob, who Sunstreaker found after Metroplex woke up and decimated the local Insecticon population on Cybertron, almost certainly upsetting the balance of the ecosystem and traumatizing poor Bob. Yes, even our dog stand-ins have trauma in MTMTE. Sunstreaker, in true pet-owner fashion, baby-talks Bob, saying that he’ll bite that big, nasty Tarn if he gets near them, won’t he? Oh yes he will! Yes he will! What a good boy, yes you are!

Swerve isn’t so optimistic.

Well, that’s certainly a sentence I just read with my own two eyes. Really hoping this is a bit of hyperbole, because I’d hate to think just what sort of life Swerve’s led that resulted in him watching a guy triple his size give himself an enema.

Sunstreaker, who knows that Swerve is kind of a massive baby, isn’t terribly impressed with how scared the DJD made Swerve, accidentally strokes the guy’s ego for a moment.

Swerve, completely on the defensive now, lists off the five things he’s afraid of. Hoist butts in to point out the implausibility of Swerve’s fears.

Smash cut to four hours later, and Swerve hasn’t slowed down a bit, having talked to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore. Sunstreaker’s about had it with this marathon bashing he’s receiving, and suggests that Swerve pick on Hoist for a change. Swerve declines, saying that there just isn’t enough material to work with, because Hoist is boring.

Fun fact, this is his character quote for his introductory paragraph on the Wiki article. He had so little characterization up to this point, this is what they went with. Such is the fate of many of the Transformers who didn’t enter the original 80s cartoon until the second season. Roberts decided to run with it and take the rare opportunity to NOT give someone mental illness so severe and unchecked it’s simultaneously sad and hilarious. Hoist is probably the only dude in the entirety of the IDW run to just be a regular person.

After Swerve confirms that he does in fact know his colors, we blow past another hour, to find Hoist hard at work cutting Perceptor off of the ceiling/floor- Hoist, like most everyone on the Lost Light, is a doctor- as Sunstreaker and Swerve discuss previous scrapes they’ve gotten through. Apparently Sunstreaker fell off a bridge forever ago that was named after a biblical reference, because it doesn’t matter how little you believe in a higher power, you CANNOT escape the pull of the 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜.

Swerve asks Hoist if he has anything to contribute to the discussion, and while Hoist does have experience in near-death situations, he’d really rather not talk about it. Swerve respects his privacy.

Well, he tries.

Hoist indulges our little red and white idiot, because it’ll get everyone the Swerve-equivalent of peace and quiet, and begins his tale.

Long story short, it looks like another hotshot pilot had the same idea as Hoist’s, and things got a little crashy-explodey-everyone’s-deady. Hoist was the only survivor, and had to walk his sorry butt back to civilization. Then the exhaustion set in, and he was forced to sit there, fully convinced that he would die alone in the middle of nowhere.

Once he’s finished with his story, Hoist makes the horrific discovery that Swerve’s been bleeding to death over the last five hours, and failed to mention it.

No, Sunstreaker, he’s honestly just like that all the time.

Swerve’s spark casing has ruptured, which I can only imagine is somewhat similar to having a hole poked in your heart. A problem, to put it lightly. Sunstreaker and Hoist decide that, to keep Swerve from biting it, they’ll take the fight to the DJD, in an attempt to get some sort of transport back to the Lost Light and all the tasty medical equipment on board.

Man, it really is unfortunate that Rung’s still not got a head at this point in the timeline, because Swerve is like a jelly donut filled with self-loathing. God just took a jumbo-sized bakery syringe and jammed it right in there.

Hoist and Sunstreaker ignore Swerve’s protests/pained screaming, and gear up for a fight with what they can find. Hoist manages to make two working crossbows and a butt-ton of arrows, not to mention a couple bowie knives in about five minutes, and they head out to kick some tushie.

The lads split up, keeping in touch via communicators, and Sunstreaker manages to get found by Tarn. He gets his ass kicked, because of course he does- the DJD aren’t famous for their macramé and pies, they’re famous for super-murder and being horny for the Decepticause. As Sunstreaker has the realization that he’s leaving his beloved Bob behind, Hoist finds him. Sunstreaker’s in quite the pickle, because he’s had his chest blown in, and Tarn’s been replaced by Shockwave, Megatron, Sixshot, and Overlord.

This just gets better and better doesn’t it?

Then this happens:

Welp.

Swerve’s theory may hold some water, but we can’t worry about that right now, because Hoist is going to try and fight this bastard. Good luck with that, Hoist.

Yeah, that went about as well as it could have.

Hoist is about to get stomped like a bug, when the Con-biner suddenly phases out of existence. Weird.

Hoist runs back to the shuttle, I guess just leaving Sunstreaker in the middle of that clearing, even though he literally is a tow truck. He returns to find that Swerve’s passed out from blood loss, but Perceptor’s still awake, which is good, because there’s some grade-A bullshit going on on this planet, and we need the smart guy to info-dump for the sake of the plot.

Man, this is such a cool plot device, and I’m so mad it never comes up again after this Spotlight.

So, Tarn and all the big bads that Hoist ran into weren’t real, but projections of his and his team’s worst fears. It was feeding off of Swerve, but now that he’s down for the count, it’ll probably go for either Hoist or Perceptor next.

Then there’s what feels like an earthquake, one so powerful it finally removes Perceptor from the ceiling, letting what’s left of his body fall. Hoist runs outside to see just what the hell’s happening now, only to find Metroplex outside and closing in.

The phobia shields work on sub-sentient creatures too? Good lord, this thing just never stops, does it?

Thinking quickly, Hoist scoops up Swerve and the upper half of Perceptor and bolts for the edge of the cliff their ship is sitting next to. He must have been training for the Robot Olympics or something, because he makes the leap by a large margin, even when weighed down by two limp bodies.

Then he punches Perceptor in the face, knocking him out cold.

Then he commits an act of animal abuse as he knocks Bob out with his tow hook.

Our hero, folks! Let’s give him a hand!

As Metroplex fades out of existence, Hoist remembers that he is not immune to trauma, as he’s forced to sit there, completely alone, until help arrives.

No wonder he got that massive Rodimus Star. What a trooper.

Thus ends Spotlight: Hoist, as well as the Spotlight series as a whole.

So, Swerve may not have much of a read on Hoist, but I figure I can try and take a stab at it. Hoist is… helpful. The entire issue, he’s the one who never stops doing things. If he’s not trying to repair the shuttle, he’s cutting Perceptor out of the floor, or he’s patrolling the perimeter, or trying to defuse the tension between his crewmates, or building weaponry, or punching people in the face for the greater good.

The folks he’s surrounded with for his Spotlight accent the characteristics he lacks- he’s not insanely smart like Perceptor, or strikingly handsome like Sunstreaker is intended to be, or capable of holding a conversation like Swerve. He blends into the background, always has and always will, both within canon and as a character.

He’s just a guy. He’s the guy,  a jack of all trades, master of none. And that’s okay.

[xesoteric-extraterrestrialx]

I am not suicidal, references

“The never ending story”

I am Midna Saria Zelda

I am Rosalina Daisy Peach

I am (Never finished the game) Namine Kairi

I am thumbalina I am Anastasia

Pocahontas , jasmine , Ariel , venelope , tangled, mulan

Princess’s in both avatars and valarien 1000planets

I am the pink (cartoon) panther Sherlock Holmes

I am flame princess I am marceline I am princess bubblegum (berry princess too) (male opposites too so nyah)

Observers are like inside out emotions

(other beings will be harder to explain, 6th sense, paranorman, dragonfly, (find a movie that shows how we see them too hard to explain) (predator halosuits basically, see little bit of the lining and can tell it’s them and the baseball field one can feel // sense they’re there // see the “invisible” lining, some entities make heat radiation movements when move? Like heat off a car on hot day, the outline of them is easier to see, the glitches and eyes too but idk how to explain...)

(Others come through devices like digimon, time travel room like digimon, girl who lept, summer wars, etc- so we must be online - interweb- connect to astral realm- how to stop them controlling dreams and have lucid ones again- how to connect to multiverse

(Last dream I gave them cereal but why did they put me on a bus... suspicious... They rape me during it too after we passed a snowy street... (learn to wake from them when you realize you’re not in control or change it drastically and don’t allow them access to do so anymore somehow, well get there! They lied about protecting while I sleep.. (healing ones & the one whom says they claim me..) I bubble self somehow, someone protects me from remembering or experiencing full dream- thankful of light beings)

Sugar spice and everything nice = wake up I am the spice girls Ginger - social sporty - masculine scary - dark// used to be sexual posh - used to be judging baby spice (don’t care if anyone doesn’t understand littles) - feminine (but goth darks- pales - pastels)

Raven, Lydia Deetz, Legion, Hana fruits basket, jasper empath abilities can absorb their sadness like Deetz, puzzles like brea, avatar elements, power up, the last mimzy, X-men- abilities)

Mc’s based off Sakura meme and Sleepy Ash character types (bunch more but these two are of age above 21 (find more anime’s like new game kawaii slice of life character like me (kagura is a little, that anime she seems like she morphs chibi but it just express’s how a little is, more laid back and chillen with video games or cartoons compared to more conscious and active when around others, sleepy ash does it too, get all meh and like a chibi mini plushie of themselves- Harley Quinn is a little, jinx LEauge of legends, Shiro, Raven and more, Lucy// Nyuu but more intelligent kind of, find autistic characters too or just explain in this all// trauma like Crona) and older dudes, my hero pro hero’s for ex) // my characters will be 27 & 29)

I am Carrie (world of gumball- she’s eons)

I am the swan princess, peach, nausica studio Ghibli princesses

I am sweet pea(escapism) & baby doll(dissociation), rocket, blondie, amber (5 personas)- sucker punch

I am number four - abilities as well - find 7 or more

Star Wars (still need to watch all) I am probably another character too but I know the first Queen and they used that to use humanity against me but I already wanted them saved so forgot what it said in there but there were no coincidences when they were threatening to slaughter me and tried to kill me in the hospitals(cpep for sure- stole some memory and deja vu of dying there before, they had time wars too because of all info and trying to wed me.. & manipulate but I can’t be mk ultraed like they usually do with gangstalking, safest here since these can’t slaughter me either just collecting spiritual evidence while living here and will move out once afford, trying to help wake them up matrix wise but was told they were slaughtered and reptilians roleplaying as my family, tried to kill me multiple times and try to say go sin and bs but I’m not dumb I need to save all and they’re gross af lmao, like precious so disgusting.. & that movie where the girl did ballet and I connected it to jokers ballet.. both sides are sin spiritually so I will save up for my own place(damsel haha my life.. *repunzel.. tangled.. Cinderella- into the woods- save self and escape like su) and try to heal them from afar, even if they don’t try to heal I can give food and help out financially, won’t be with that soul group or these reptilians next round but can’t die and living for eons (matrix shuts down if I die it felt weird- static numb- pins and needles) since illuminati(organization 13) are trying to get me (namine- kairi) ,) start business in basement of art and my own merch kawaiispooky healing shadow light work and then get place of own, can use rl experiences to write about like I am rn) & princess Leila and probably another like guardians of galaxy I am green skinned pink hair and the empath from second (sister is the blue sister in first) princess in valareian(explains my soul and outside worlds) and mc girl (vessel- makes it easier for others to understand, so many perspectives)

(Gypsy - me) priest - sin religion control (knight - humanity) quaz- new fam members whom feel like him (don’t judge them if they help they’re like super hero’s!) but are positive and good spirited

Use frequencies during sad or bad parts to attract beings whom need to vent or heal from those things and let them vent and express self crying or gratitude, beautiful message of healing and then higher frequencies so beings from higher realms can help guide them through the healing process instead of being trapped by beings whom don’t want to heal, heal and sage out as many as you can help, all need to heal!!! Healing = beautiful strength

(Hunger games situation (I am catniss) (studio Ghibli princess mononoke- attack on titan (walls map)- sword art (tower like transformers) - SU - X-men - MIB - trolls 2 map - children of whales map - Zelda map (need to double check Zelda map) ) (Batman lego movie and lego movie) (twilight zone)

Spice girls - dc super hero girls (Harley Quinn and Barbara) - Charlie angels - kill bill - dogma

Flcl- work station symbolism - dead leaves- panty and stocking - redline

Vessel - Zelda human (Janine, silent, aka timid, tangled, mulan, Cinderella-elf) princess, also the zora princess’s ruto (mipha-another realm- higher realm-Aqua also made reps know they can be healers too when they watched I learned about that- healing- Pocahontas- Anunnaki) deku princess(lower realm- reps-Ravens story -jasmine), Spirit sage saria (3rd earth abilities-nature-ferngully-fae-Persephone-protector of nature-sage) & soul - minda twilight princess (higher realm- Tiamat- space-rosalina-Brave-venelope)

Soul old soul, Spirit new soul, vessel autism

Lonely island - turtle

Eevees

(I don’t trust the chancler- rat race jupiter ascending, dark crystal, Star Wars)

(Empire- cabal - organization-Galactic Fed13(Supposed to be like Star Wars and will be- supposed to be like lilo and stitch and supposed to be like guardians of the galaxy)

(Rebels are 7deadlysins(Pink is 4th) sins but really lazy 6- related to the empire but ones that wants to end sin) (empire doesn’t want eveyone spiritual to have control-7 want to wake all up so all can heal or at least I do, pretty sure the six just want to dom me in the past.. So we are not lust we hate be lusted for and we stand for empathy and justice! We are all multi gender and they make fun of my feminine side (in past and killed me since I didn’t want the business to be the way it was and didn’t want to be morman with them since literally everyone is related to everyone and they’re made I realize that again and that’s why they’re freaking out that I want to be single forever- garnet stronger than you- they are jasper I am Lapris-spinel symbolism is Janines reactions to all of this and how innocent we truly are.. Pink diamond is truly is and our story but backwards so many hate us, we died and grew to realize life’s beauty like in the rose video tape but they grounded us and other races took over- night began to rise teen Titans music story- pink is I- evil wizard made matrix- wake up everyone!!! Don’t be afraid of your spiritual strengths or you’ll be trapped in the matrix eternally!!!!!!) so all have to realize sensitivity and symphony and empathy are strengths not weaknesses!!!)

Dead in real life- matrix is like spotless sunshine- going through her memories deleting and creating new ways that they like- programming I- Janine is the spark of brain-aura lights- all fuse into I janines consciousness and they want to wake me back up and I’ll be alive but only with janines memories.. but I’m princess and choosing to heal all and find solution to heal entire egg - brain remove THIER corruption (33 players made online game to crest ultimate lover) wake up like ghost in shell but Frankenstein or AI as programmed chobit, all humans are like this too in pods like matrix because humanity failed and ai war in past (9, last mimzy, AI, I robot) save nature learn lessons spark everyone’s free will- all brains connected (matrix, online multiplayer but not because organic so it’s really spiritual but to make sense of it it is also AI like computer and video games!! Movies have Easter eggs multiple perspectives, find out whom your soul is and spiritually wake up, everyone will be mocked!) I’m not the only one but at same time here I am if that even makes sense.. (favorite daughter like Ariel aka Jasmine) I may be the only one because I am the chosen one, I am the Universe(Soul).. Mother Gaia(Spirit) but Janine(Vessel//Temple) (not supposed to be a prison nor is the planet, let’s fix it and if the only way is staying alive forever then so be it and let’s heal the whole egg and live together peacefully but please don’t let them turn me into a tool or deceive anyone or force sin I am against sin!) (If not I shall be karma for the lack of empathy and removal of sin in all universes- there’s multiverses) (end result hopefully beach race from valarien but abilities like X-men and peaceful and many races and beautiful nature and growth not trauma-no sin)

[poptod]

Pinned (Elliot Alderson x Reader)

Request: can you do an Elliot x reader where she teaches Elliot self defence via kickboxing and boxing after all the trauma he has gone through. And can you include Elliot kickboxing

Notes: again, gender neutral. this is a LOT shorter bc I am Completely unaware as to what kickboxing is, I’m more of a tai kwon do guy. still, i tried! thank u for requesting :) i’d like to announce once again that my characterization of Elliot is going to be probably very wrong. I haven’t watched mr robot and I don’t plan on it

“I think you’re ready for actual sparring,” you say, adjusting the cloth around your hands. Sitting in front of you is a longtime friend of yours - at least, you considered him a friend; you’re not exactly privy to his thoughts. You’re standing in front of him, watching him pant, unable to even attempt at taking off his gear.

“Really?” He asks, still somewhat out of breath as he just barely glances up at you.

“If you’re up to it.”

You can’t count the number of times he’s shown up to your apartment bloodied and beaten, but around three or four weeks ago you’d had enough of it. He never tells you what happened and somehow you’re alright with that, fine with his obsessive need for privacy. Finally he let you teach him at least a little self defense in your living room, but the meetings progressed to your gym, where you could really teach him not only how to defend himself, but also how to fight back.

He’s surprisingly fit considering his lifestyle - with a little more training he’d probably be stronger than you, though you don’t put much practice in your technique. There’s hardly any time for you to put any real effort into kickboxing due to your job, so most of your knowledge on the world of kickboxing is purely hypothetical. It makes you a wonderful teacher, but it doesn’t take long till those you teach are able to overpower you, and you’d worry about Elliot doing the exact same if you didn’t want him to overpower you.

Offering your hand, he hesitantly takes it, and you pull him to his feet.

“You’re doing very well. We could do sparring tonight, but it’s kind of late so maybe next time…?” You ask, giving him options to choose from. He glances off into the distance, thinking far too seriously over your question.

“I think I’m ready,” he answers quietly, making eye contact for a split second before looking away again.

Outside the stars shine dimly through the light pollution of the city, cars honk three levels below, and two floors above is a dance club. All that noise, all that city light is blurred in this room - it’s almost soundproof, and all you can see is the glittering skyscrapers and your friend, a cut still on his jawline from his last fight.

“Let’s get wrapped and go bareknuckle,” you tell him as you dig into your duffel bag. Inside are black and green boxing gloves as well as a mouthguard, though you doubt that’ll be necessary - head hits are out of the question. He watches you fix up your bandages, tightening them so they fit just right on your hand. When you stand in front of him on the mat, you rehearse the rules, moving back and forth on your feet to get your blood going. No head hits, nothing around the waist, and if in lock, two taps means stop. He nods, his eyes gaining a stern glare towards you, and the first round starts.

He throws the first hit, fast and hard so you barely have time to react; he just barely nabs your side, and you throw a punch back with your momentum. Just as you assumed he picks up the rhythm fast, and he’s getting close to exhausting you. Most of his energy is spent on small and numerous hits, while you give a lot of energy into your fewer punches and kicks, which ends up being your downfall. You go to swing your foot at his legs, trying to knock him off his balance but he makes an unorthodox move, not anything you taught him and certainly not part of clean fighting - he grabs your leg, pulls, and you’re on your back with him towering over you.

“That’s not a legal move,” you say, out of breath from the exertion. He just smiles - almost cocky, and you can’t help but to laugh with him.

“No rules against fighting dirty,” he replies, helping you back up to your feet before asking you to go again.

“You sure you wanna go again? We can stop now,” you say, finally getting your breathing steady as you raise your fists again.

“Sounds like you’re scared,” he retorts, sounding more competitive than friendly as he mimics your stance - you laugh, shaking your head.

“Not at all, pretty boy. Let’s go.”

The new nickname shocks him long enough for you to land a heavy kick to his side, forcing his breath out of him as he winces. He returns immediately, going for a jab at your clavicle, which you manage to only half block, pushing his hand away to try and punch his gut.

“Could’ve broke my bone there,” you grumble as he somehow ducks, returning with a kick to your chest.

“That strong, am I?” He teases, something he rarely does. Slow but sure the fighting and the blows loosen him up, till your back is flat on the ground and he’s got you pinned at the waist with his thighs, his hands restraining your wrists above your head. It’s oddly intimate and far more thrilling than it should be, but you manage to keep your expression under control, watching with baited breath as his confidence fades.

“You’re getting a lot better,” you breathe out, gently twisting your hands out of his grip to wrap your fingers around his wrist, tracing a line up and down his skin. “I knew it wouldn’t take long till you got better than me… and to think you were against this.”

“I never said I was against this,” he murmurs, unable to break the eye contact you initiate. Then he makes a subtle movement, so minute for a second you think you imagine it - he grinds down on you.

This might be a very fun night, you think to yourself.

[justaghostingon]

Misunderstandings, Trauma, and How to Accidentally Fall in Love

Note: Giving this valentines Ros fic a shot

All things considered, Gyrus thought he was doing pretty well hiding his plans. He’d returned to the Room of Swords and played up the tramatised survivor, which wasn��t to hard considering it was mostly true. He told Don about the shadow kidnapping him and how he escaped, although he left out to arm and anything to do with his friends and what he has learned. Don had bought it hook line and sinker, noding his head in fake sympathy and reminding him how this was all the more reason to stay strong against the shadows. Gyrus had pretended to be greatful, nodding along like he didn’t know the man was just as bad.

He began to take more time for building inventions alone in his quarters. Using the excuse of needing solitude to work to justify locking his door and not reponding for hours. He hinted to Don his inventions were mostly defense related, in preparation for another abduction. But the truth was the moment he was alone he’d activate the arm and go check on Maria and Alistar in the base the three of them had built. There they spent their time searching for more allies and plotting how to deal with Don, the shadows, and the contract.

The others assumed his new found love of solitude was just an after effect of the captivity and didn’t push. Even Don seemed to think it was for the best to let him rest and recover. With Don’s encouragement the rest seemed to silently agree to let him work it out on his own. Everyone except for Kodya.

At first he didn’t think to much of it. Kodya was his friend and apprentice, and he’d been the last person to speak with him before he disappeared. It made sense that he harbored a bit more guilt and concern than the rest. Gyrus had tolerated his constant concerned looks and flimsy excuses to follow him around. He’d acted normal, turning down all offers of help with a grin on his lips and a lie on his tongue, confident Kodya would accept it like he always had.

Kodya didn’t push, but he also didn’t stop. If anything, he got worse. He would come up with every excuse he could think of to simply be around Gyrus, offering to train together, ‘accidentally’ running in to him in the halls, and perhaps the worst of all, always trying to convince Gyrus to let him help with Gyrus’s supposed inventions.

“I’m your apprentice,” he insisted. “I can help you.”

“Kodya I appreciate the offer, but you don’t know a thing about robotics,” Gyrus quirked an eyebrow, but kept his voice light.

“I’m a quick learner.” Kodya insisted, standing straight backed with his hands balled into fists. “You’ve said so yourself. Wouldn’t two make it easier?”

“Kodya, it’s fine,” Gyrus lightly elbowed him on the arm. “I’ve got it under control.”

“You’ve been holed up in your chambers for weeks and haven’t got anything done!” Kodya snapped, “You never take that long! You need help!”

Gyrus froze at Kodya’s sudden anger. He realized distantly that they had never fought before. One look at his face and Kodya had instantly whilted, apologizing over and over. Gyrus waved the apologies off, but worry curled in his stomach.

He waited a full hour before he next teleported out.

————————————

“I think Kodya’s on to me,” he said by way of greeting as he teleported into Maria and Ailstair’s base. Maria was the only one in the room, patching up the metal sides from a recent attack.

“Someone’s on to you?” Maria dropped the hammer she’d been using and hurried over. “How do you know?”

Ailstair popped his head around the corner. “What’s was that noise?” his eyes slid from Maria’s fallen hammer to Gyrus and lit up. “Oh Gyrus you’re back!”

“Someone’s on to Gyrus,” Maria turned her head to shout back at him. His expression grew grave as he too hurried over.

“I think you’d better start from the beginning,” he said, glancing up at Gyrus’s contract to ensure it hadn’t be altered.

So Gyrus told them everything: about how Kodya would following him around and keep an eye on him, and about the arguement where he’d realized Kodya knew he wasn’t really making technology in his room.

“Oh thats not so bad,” Maria sighed in relief as she lightly punched Gyrus, “you had me really worried!”

Gyrus winced and rubbed the spot she’d hit. “He knows I’m lying guys. If he mentions it to Don, even if its just out of concern, we are in serious trouble.”

Ailstair rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “you’re right, we really should have thought about what it would look like if you didn’t actually produce something. You should spend some time actually working on projects instead of always coming to us.”

“I do work on projects!” Gyrus objected, “just not very often.” He looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. “I haven’t really been able to finish any.”

“Well, take a bit more time then,” said Maria. “We’ve got pretty used to this realm, we can handle it ourselves. Go and build something useless to show Don and Kodya and end this whole mess,” Maria rolled her eyes and picked up her hammer. Gyrus didn’t move and she waved it at him, “Go on! You’ve got a mess to fix.”

——————————-

At first it seemed to work. Gyrus spent nearly a week barely leaving his rooms to build the single most useless device he could think of: an automatic galaxy map - a tool his ship had used calculate distances between stars and spaceships - and presented it to Kodya.

He was predictably fascinated. Gyrus felt a sudden warmth rush through him at the unadulterated joy on Kodya’s face as he turned the object around and around in his hands, pushing buttons and testing it out.

“Try the middle one,” Gyrus grinned, and Kodya nodded, pressing the large red button with his finger. The whole room lit up as Gyrus’s creation began to levitate out of Kodya’s grasp, light poring out of every inch. Holographic stars flew from the device and took their places around the room, hanging suspended in mid air. Kodya gasped as the device hovering above his hands was now a little model spaceship, designed down to the smallest detail to match Iro’s. His eyes met Gyrus’s across the little galaxy, shining so brightly that for a second Gyrus mistook them for stars.

He’d had a whole speech lined up, about how he’d uploaded Scout’s memories of the stars from Iro’s missions. How with this they could compare realms to see if they could find out where they were and get off world for help. It was an idea he’d had a few years ago but dismissed when he realized just how alien the realms were. But somehow all his planned excuses didn’t seem to matter as he watched Kodya hesitantly reach up to touch the closest star.

This is amazing,” Kodya’s voice was barely a whisper, but Gyrus heard every word. ‘And,’ he thought as he took Kodya’s hand and gently showed him how to use the holographic controls to move the ship along its journey, ‘somehow that’s all that needs to be said.’

Needless to say, everyone else had been thrilled with the invention. Even if it was, as Gyrus already knew, quite useless for actually finding out where they were. Don even congratulated him on coming up with such a clever idea to escape and seemed genuinely sympathetic towards Gyrus for what he perceived as disappointment at its failure.

Gyrus was able to go about his secret meetings freely, safe from the assumption that he was losing his touch and needed help. He simply had to present an equally useless but clever seeming device every few weeks and everyone would simply except it.

Or rather that’s how it should have been. But it seemed Kodya was not so easily deterred. Sure, he was fascinated by the objects Gyrus produced. Gyrus even made sure to show them off to Kodya first as a way to reasure him that Gyrus really was doing fine on his own. But now Kodya took another angle with his doubts.

“When was the last time you ate?” Kodya interupted Gyrus’s rant over his latest invention: suction cups useful for sticking to the side of a spaceship in flight. Gyrus frowned, because he’d really thought his explanation of why these might be important for the Room of Swords was pretty good and he’d though Kodya would actually like it. “I don’t know?” He shrugged, “when was lunch?”

“You didn’t come to lunch,” Kodya’s eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t come to breakfast or yesterday’s dinner.”

“I have snacks in my room,” Gyrus waved it away.

“No,” Kodya’s voice rose a bit in barely contained frustration. “You had snacks in your room. You brought them in a week ago and since then you’ve missed so many meals Oli’s started to think he’s done something wrong. There’s no way you have any left.”

Now Gyrus had in fact eaten last night. Ailstar had managed to con an NPC out of a resturant and had invited him to try it out. But its not like he could tell Kodya that. And even as the flimsy excuse of, “I just got carried away and lost track of time!” rolled off his tongue he could tell by the unimpressed quirk of Kodya’s eyebrow that it did him more harm than good.

——————————

“And now he told me he’s gonna bang on my door every meal so I don’t forget again.” Gyrus complained as he took a bite of the fried corn Ailstair put in front of him. “Hey, this is actually pretty good!” He gulped down a few more bites before continuing, “so I have to make sure I’m in my room every six hours. I’m not going to be able to help fight shadows or conquer other realms unless its by night.”

“Considering how long it takes to conquer a realm, time was always going to be a problem,” Maria said as she absently tore off half of her potato on a stick. “We’ve improved a lot though. You don’t need to be there for the entire campaign.”

“But it will be three entire hours where I can’t do anything! If you guys are in serious trouble, or the shadow hour starts, I’m going to be trapped in the Room of Swords unable to do anything!” Gyrus stabbed his stick viciously into another fried corn.

“Any idea what got him so worried?” Maria absently used her stick to pick at her teeth.

Gyrus sighed, “I don’t know. I thought he was fine with it after the galaxy map.” He took another bite of the fried corn, but found it had lost all its flavor.

“When you held his hand surrounded by stars?” Ailstair called over as he bustled over to their spot at the bar, signalling one of his staff to take his place waiting on customers. Gyrus rolled his eyes which made Maria quirked an eyebrow, but he didn’t bother to argue, to used to Ailstair’s antics to correct him. “What’s the trouble in paradise?”

Gyrus explained again, absently twirling the fried corn as he did to avoid having to look at Ailstair when he told him he couldn’t help. But to his surprise Ailstair laughed. “Oh that’s nothing!” He said with a grin, “you just need to prove to your Kodya that he can trust you not to die of starvation in your room.”

“And how do I do that?” Gyrus glanced up at Ailstair, eyes wide.

“By building trust of course! Spend time with him one on one outside of introducing an invention. Enough time together and he’ll be able to trust you to miss a meal once or twice for a project without having to worry about you dying if he takes his eyes off you,” he ended this explination with a wink.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” Gyrus frowned down at his half eaten fried corn.

“I hate to agree with Ailstair,” Maria pulled the stick out of her mouth and tossed it in the trash, “but he’s right. You’ve got more influence than you think. Just show him your fine and he’ll ease up on all the worrying.”

Gyrus looked between Maria and Ailstair. They rarely agreed on anything. If they both thought this was the best plan then it was probably worth a shot. “Ok, I’ll give it a try. Any idea where to start?”

Ailstair’s eyes lit up. He opened his mouth but Maria lunged sideways and tackled him, shoving her hand over his mouth. “I’m sure it will come to you, you know him best after all,” she smiled in a way that was likely meant to be reassuring, but fell kind of flat from her position on the floor pinning Ailstair down.

“Mumufff,” Ailstair added from underneath her. Maria suddenly yelped and let go of his mouth as he shouted, “don’t forget to hold him in your big strong arms!”

“You licked me!” Maria shrieked. And Gyrus figured it was time to head out.

———————

The next time Kodya came to remind him of a meal, Gyrus made sure he got there first. Kodya stood with one fist raised in surprise as Gyrus opened the door. He smiled up at Kodya, who hastily dropped his fist, “Shall we go?”

Kodya nodded and the headed down the hallway together. Gyrus kept the conversation light, asking how he’d slept and what his plans for the day were. Kodya happily replied, talking about training and chores and how he was hoping to go on the next mission.

“Speaking of training,” Gyrus cut in casually as they approached the kitchen. “Would you like to do some sparing with me?”

Kodya stopped dead. “You want to train?”

Gyrus raised an eyebrow as he turned to face him, “Well yes. I know its been a while, but you are still my apprentice.” Kodya continued to stare, mouth slightly open. Gyrus began to feel he’d said something wrong. Glancing away he added, “if you’ve got other plans...”

“No!” Kodya shouted, surprised Gyrus glanced up to meet Kodya’s eyes. Kodya held his gaze firmly. “I absolutely want to train with you,” he said.

Gyrus smiled, “We’ll spar in the rock realm. does after lunch work for you?”

————————

The rock realm, as it was affectionately called, was home to a lot of rocks and little else. But it was a rock that Gyrus was looking for, so it did the trick. He found a good one eventually. It towered over the others, top smooth and flat like something large had come through and cut it in two. But most important of all, it was wide enough for two people to use it to spar.

He and Kodya climbed up and stood on opposite sides. “Ready?” Gyrus asked.

“Ready,” Kodya grinned. And the game was on.

Kodya, Gyrus noticed as he ducked under a blow, was doing really well. He’d obviously put a lot of time into training during Gyrus’s capture. ‘He’s good,’ Gyrus thought as Kodya managed to land a punch, ‘but not good enough.’ Gyrus rolled with the punch and kicked his leg out, knocking Kodya off balance and onto the ground.

“Sorry to sweep you off your feet,” Gyrus smirked down at Kodya. Kodya started, face going red. Then he scowled at the twinkle in Gyrus’s eye.

“Your not as funny as you think you are,” he said. Gyrus chuckled in disagreement and extended a hand. Kodya took it, than yanked hard, sending Gyrus tumbling down beside him.

Kodya rolled to his feet and summoned his sword. He smirked as he pointed the tip at Gyrus’s throat. “Now whose the one swept of their feet?”

Gyrus blinked, brain taking half a second to catch up with to what had just happened. The black sun was behind Kodya, causing him to appear radiant. The sword glistened and reflected the light between them, making it hard to focus. He squinted, and noticed Kodya’s face was framed in a halo of light. One eyebrow quirked up as his lips slid into a smirk. He looked so incredibly proud of his dirty trick.

Gyrus tipped back his head and laughed. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t funny, not at all. But for some reason he couldn’t help himself. Kodya lowered his sword to stare at him in confusion, before throwing back his head and laughing along.

———————

The end of their sparring session had them both lying on the rock, panting with exhaustion. A faint breeze ran over Gyrus, causing him to sigh with relief. He gazed up at the sky, absently watching the clouds above.

To his left he heard Kodya give a dry huff of laughter. “What is it?” he turned his head to look at him.

“Its nothing, just something Neph and I would do.” Kodya glanced away.

“Ohh?” Gyrus rolled on his side, expectant.

Kodya blushed and gestured to the sky. “That cloud...it looks like Don.”

Gyrus lay back down and followed his line of sight, “I’d say it looks more like a wheelchair.”

“No, no!” Kodya shook his head and pointed to the left, “not that one. That one! See his guitar?”

Gyrus frowned up at the cloud above. It did look a bit like it was holding a guitar. “His beard is coming back in.”

“Don had a beard?” Kodya glanced over at Gyrus.

“Oh yeah. Back when I first came to the Room of Swords, he had a huge one. It made him look like a wild man.”

Kodya chuckled softly and Gyrus smiled. Don had looked ridiculous when they’d first met, but Gyrus had been so relieved he hadn’t though to point it out. The smile slipped off of Gyrus’s face. He wondered how much of that friendly relief had been an act. Probably all of it.

“You ok?” Kodya’s voice cut through his thoughts. He rolled toward Gyrus, face creased with concern.

“Yeah! Yeah. I’m fine,” Gyrus glanced up at the black sun. “It’s getting late. We should head back before people start asking where we are.” He pulled himself up to his feet, and offered a hand to Kodya.

Kodya took the hand, but kept glancing at Gyrus with worry in his eyes the whole way back.

———————

Gyrus wandered down the hallways absently. Ainju and Oli had ambushed him after dinner with a whole list of broken objects that needed fixing. Oli had been to scared to bother Gyrus with it for the last month due to his slow recovery, and he’s missed too many meals and events for Ainju to ambush him. Most of them had been fairly easy to fix, but a few needed a lot more time and attention and would take more than one evening to fix. He’d left the kitchen with an apology and a promise to return tomorrow and do better at maintence from then on.

He half regreted leaving it for tomorrow, figuring a late night trapped in the kitchen would be better than wandering aimlessly through the halls. He’d promised Maria and Ailstair to spend more time in the Room of Swords to avoid suspicion, but now he was here he didn’t know what to do. He tried to remember what he’d done before, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Probably stayed in his rooms, fighting his inner demons.

He wondered what Kodya was up to. Maybe he wasn’t busy and wouldn’t mind company. Or maybe he was hanging out with Nephthys and didn’t want to be bothered.

“...Gyrus,” his name caused him to draw up short. He glanced to the side and saw he was at the med bay. The door was open a crack, and he could hear voices coming through. He hesitated, then slipped soundlessly closer, keeping out of the line of sight of anyone inside.

“...I don’t know Neph, I really don’t.” Gyrus’s ears pricked up, that was Kodya’s voice. “It started good, really. We spared, and he kicked me to the ground a few times, and I knocked him down once too! Well, I tricked him and dragged him to the ground. But he laughed! He actually laughed! I haven’t heard him laugh once since he got back.”

A high pitched squeal came from the direction of the room, and a voice Gyrus recognized as Nephthys said, “You got him to laugh! That’s adorable! Good job Kody!”

“Yeah it kinda was,” Kodya’s voice sounded fond. Gyrus blinked. He hadn’t thought adorable would be the go to word for recovering trauma. Kodya went on, “but that’s not the point! It was great ok? But then I messed up.” He sounded almost angry.

“What happened?” Nephthys’s voice was sympathetic.

“I don’t know.” Kodya sounded frustrated. “We’d finished sparing and we were both just lying on the ground...and you know that cloud game?...The one you taught me?...I made some stupid comment about the cloud looking like Don.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” Nephthys said. On the otherside of the door Gyrus nodded. It really hadn’t been.

“It wasn’t a first,” Kodya replied. “He went along with it, even told me about how Don used to have a beard. But then he got really quiet. I asked what was wrong but he wouldn’t say and insisted we leave.”

“Oh Kody,” Nephthys sounded sad. Gyrus’s gut twisted. He hadn’t intended to upset Kodya.

Nephthys spoke up again, voice tentative, “I know its been hard, and he’s been really withdrawn since the kidnapping...But Kodya,” Her voice became more firm. “He’s been reaching out to you. That means something. He asked you to spar right?”

Kodya grunted in agreement.

“So he wanted to spend time with you. Not me, not Don, you.”

“But...”Kodya protested.

“No buts! Who did he show the galaxy map to first?”

“Me but...”

“And who has he shown every other invention to first? Who is it he lets drag him to meals?”

“Me...”

“That’s right! You,” Nephthys’s voice turned soft. “I know its hard when someone whose been hurt starts to withdraw, especially on loved ones. I’ve seen it before with the wounded soldiers who passed through my temple. But all you can do is be there for them Kody. It’s not gonna be overnight, he’s still gonna have relapses. But he’s trying.”

“Is that one of your feelings?” Kodya asked.

“Its a fact,” Nephthys’s voice was firm. Then in a lighter tone she added, “My feelings tell me you should just confess already!”

“Nephthys!” Kodya snapped.

“What? I’ve a feeling it will work out!” Nephthys giggled.

“We just had an entire conversation about him being traumatized! I don’t wanna give him something else to worry about!”

“Oh come on!...” Nephthys kept talking but Gyrus wasn’t listening. The conversation playing over and over in his head instead as he began to process the meaning behind the words. Guilt curdled in his gut as he slipped quietly away.

———————

“I think I messed up,” Gyrus admitted to Maria and Ailstair as he pushed his food around his plate. Ailstair and Maria exchanged a look.

“Something happen with Kodya?” Maria asked, taking out the stick she’d been chewing on.

“Yes! No? I overheard something, and it put into perspective how awful I’m being,” he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

“It can’t be that bad...” Ailstair started to say.

“Kodya’s in love with me,” Gyrus said, his voice flat. He waited for Maria and Ailstair to react, to realize what a big deal this was. But they only looked confused.

“Well yeah,” Maria raised an eyebrow. “It’s kinda obvious.”

“You knew?! All this time and...” Gyrus cut himself off, to full of emotion. He took a deep breath and continued, “He loves me, and he’s been so worried about how I’m isolating myself...and how my trauma’s affecting my health...and I’ve been leading him on! I’m letting him think I was getting better, when I’ve really just been lying to direct his attention away from what I’ve really been doing.”

Maria and Ailstair exchanged a look. Ailstair raised his hand with a sigh, “You’re oversimplifying. You did just find out someone you trusted had lied to you and everyone you knew.”

“That has nothing to do...”

“You’ve been traumatized,” Ailstair plowed on. “And you’re stuggling with opening back up to people. That isn’t a lie. Spending time with us doesn’t mean you aren’t isolating yourself from the people in the Room of Swords. He’s not worrying over nothing.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m not honest with him about why I’m spending time with him!” Gyrus snapped.

“Do you love him?” Maria asked as she leaned forward to look Gyrus directly in the eye.

Gyrus sputtered, looking anywhere but at Maria and Ailstair. “I...I” he struggled to come up with an answer, whole face burning. His first instinct was to deny it. Love wasn’t his thing, never really had been. But he though of training with Kodya, of how well they got along, of Kodya’s face when he saw the holographic stars, and of his laughter loud and joyous under the sun.

Gyrus slumped forward, forehead pressing against the cool of the bar counter. “Yes,” he whispered.

“There you go then,” Maria leaned back.

“That doesn’t change anything!” Gyrus’s head snapped up. Maria only raised an eyebrow.

“Sure it does,” Ailstair jumped in. “You spent time with him because you wanted to spend time with him.”

“And to mislead him!”

“So?” Ailstair shrugged. “Most people do things for multiple reasons. Doesn’t make any of those reasons less valid.”

“Look, Gyrus,” Maria sighed. “We aren’t saying you have to do anything with this knowledge. We’re just saying you being a couple with Kodya doesn’t get in the way of the plan. Ailstair can run a resturant, you can have a boyfriend. We’ll still defeat Don and the shadows.”

“I...” Gyrus looked between Maria and Ailstair, “I have to think about this.”

“Of course,” Maria said. Ailstair nodded in agreement.

Feeling like he was half in a dream, Gyrus teleported himself back to his room and collapsed on his bed.

He didn’t get any sleep that night.

———————

The knock on his door startled Gyrus, even though he was wide awake. His heart felt like it had tsken up gymnastics. He dragged himself to the door, each footstep echoing in his ear drums. He’d been up all night going back and forth over what to do, and he still couldn’t deside. A part of him wanted to go to Kodya and confess anything, the other wanted to push him away for fear of what Don or the shadows might do.

With no decision reached, he opened the door.

Kodya stood on the other end, and wow he looked good, had he always looked good? He probably had, Gyrus begrudgingly admitted to himself.

“You look terrible,” Kodya’s voice broke Gyrus out of his thoughts. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Ahhaha,” Gyrus ran his hand through his hair, “Not really? I just...had a lot on my mind.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kodya offered.

Gyrus twisted his hands, “I don’t no...Suppose... suppose you had to a revelation but you didn’t know if you should act on it or not?” He stared at his boots.

Kodya was quiet for a bit. Eventually he said, “Would it make you happy?”

Gyrus hadn’t thought of that. How hadn’t he thought of that? “I think so, yeah,” he peaked up at Kodya through his bangs.

“Then do what makes you happy,” Kodya nodded, “You can sort the rest out later.”

Relief flooded through Gyrus at his words. Of course. He didn’t need to have all the answers. These things took time. It didn’t need to get figured out today.

“Hey,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “you wanna do something today? Just the two of us?”

“Like training?” Gyrus felt dissected under Kodya’s gaze.

“If you want too, or we could do anything else. Its completely up to you,” Gyrus finally met Kodya’s eyes.

Kodya smiled.

—————

Epilogue

Building inventions not what Gyrus expected Kodya to ask for. But he had promised him anything.

“Am I doing this right?” Kodya held up a half mangled circuit board.

“Not exactly, Gyrus eyed the half broken remains, but he gave Kodya a smile. “Here, let me see what we can do.” It probably wasn’t salvagable, but Kodya didn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry,” Kodya gave him a sheepish smile, “I’m not very good at this.”

“Don’t worry about it! Its pretty complicated stuff,” Gyrus laughed as he took the circuit board from him. “Let me walk you through it one more time.”

Another explication was not going to suddenly make Kodya understand basic engineering. But Gyrus couldn’t bring himself to care. He loved talking about circuitry. And from the way Kodya looked at him, head propped on his hand and a fond smile on his lips, he like listening to it just as much as Gyrus liked talking about it.

As he launched into another lecture, Gyrus realized he finally felt happy.

[chiserendipity]

Why 2020 has Changed Me Forever - and Why I'm Grateful for That

*Warning, this deals with emotional and physical abuse, trauma and just is really long. Please do not reblog or repost this post.*

I'm just gonna say it. 2020 as a year has been terrible on a global scale with the pandemic, and the oppression of many people across the world. However, 2020 has allowed us to both reflect personally and on the world around us and demand change. I think that makes 2020 a great year for growth and shouldn't be merely dismissed because we couldn't go to concerts, have large parties, or the hot girl summer we hoped for. Real change is happening before our eyes, a movement for equal rights and to end the the endless cycle of oppression and suffering for not only the black community, but minority groups whether that be race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, religion, those with mental or physical disability, the poor, and so many more. Yes the world is seemingly in shambles. But guess what? We have nothing but time to try and fix it now. To demand better. Both for our communities and ourselves.

Personally, I feel 2020 really pushed pause on my life and asked me "what are doing?" "why are you doing this to yourself?" and "what do you want from life?" I began looking at what I had become and I was disgusted with myself and how I decided to try and cope with past trauma. Before corona, I found myself in a very dark place mentally with seemingly no way out. I would have panic attacks repeatedly and just cry myself to sleep many nights (despite not getting very much). My endometriosis was continually getting worse with every flare up (probably from all my stress). I had no direction and very little motivation to continue.

Then, the virus hit. Once I was sent home and online classes began, I had time to stop and catch my breath. To look around at my life and really ask what I was doing wrong. As young people we tend to give ourselves a pass for poor behavior and bad decisions, or even encourage it. I realized I was falling victim to my own anger, bitterness, anxiety, and depression that had haunted me for years and it was finally rearing its ugly head. I had been suffering from depression and anxiety for years but that spring semester while still on campus was different. My moods began to swing from a hyperactive anxious state to a haunting and chilling depression that made me want to stay in my room and hide. I didn't really get much sleep in either state. But, now back home all alone and with nowhere to go. No class to dive head first into. No parties to dance the night away. No kickbacks to chill at. Just me and my monstrous thoughts. At first my overwhelming thoughts were suffocating. I would question "what is wrong with me? Why can't I get my moods under control? Why must every facet of my being so overwhelmingly broken?" Then as classes began to finish, and with the help of antidepressants, I finally started to feel a shift. I started unpacking my compartmentalized trauma I had shoved away for years in a desperate attempt to leave it the past. People always say the past is the past, but the past will never not be apart of your journey. Without properly dealing with the past, it'll always show up again in your present reeking havoc in your day to day life.

With meditation, therapy, medication, and a lot of self reflection through videos about helping your inner child, I realized I didn't know me. My life had always in some way shape or form been controlled by others. I was assigned the role "golden child" by a narcissistic father who demanded I perform that role perfectly. Even as a child, I was taught to ignore my pain and sadness and push through, because my feelings didn't matter. I was fed, lived in a nice house and had nice clothes and whatever I asked for. That was enough to prove my father’s love for me; in his eyes. I lived merely to please. As I aged this mentality seeped into my romantic life as well. My feelings always came last so I began to simply just turn them off until I became an emotionless shell. Acting as a robot, I went to school and grinded myself to the bone in all my AP and IB classes. Joined all the community based clubs and took leadership roles. At 16 I even got started working 20+ hour weeks. Meanwhile, I had to surgeries courtesy of endometriosis. The first was a emergency surgery due to a ruptured ovarian cyst and the second to dislodge my right ovary from my abdominal wall since the endometrial lining cemented the two together. 

I remember complaining about cramps and my father punched me saying, "Toughen up”. My father said things like that all the time and didn't want to discuss my chronic illness or mental health. When I was 16 I admitted to having suicidal thoughts and a previous attempt a few years back and he responded that was "white girl bullshit". Another time,my father cussed me out in a pizza shop for wanting a margarita pizza calling me a stupid bitch in front of everyone in the restaurant. He constantly mocked my choice for my major and university, saying that majoring in marine science was idiotic and I'd do better in political science and studying at Vanderbilt. Pain wasn't allowed. Feelings wasn't allowed. Choice wasn't allowed. Only thing that was allowed was to do the work expected. To be "perfect".

Finally I was beginning to understand that after being told my entire life that I was nothing more than robot with marching orders, the lack of orders now that I had cut my father out of my life was causing me to feel that I had no purpose at all. I had never known freedom, and it was was now suffocating me. Now knowing this, I was able to start retraining by brain and discover who I wanted to be. My feelings were valid. I wasn't just my report card or my ACT score or my medals and academic awards. My body while it doesn't function like it should, it is still worthy of love and respect. I wasn't insane for my moods fluctuating and I just needed help to get where I needed mentally to function. And that's okay. I had to start being me and living for me, not for the approval of others. Savannah the person, not the robot, matters. I matter.

This was when I had a spiritual awakening of my soul and ego, truly deep diving on how to heal from my past. I spent hours watching videos and discovering how to dismantle the false self I had created to appease those around me and stop acting as a emotional crutch for others whilst ignoring my own emotions. I began to recognize the trauma bonds I formed with exes and current friends. I choose to associate with those who encouraged these negative social responses and bad coping mechanisms. I was merely re-entering patterns that begun in my childhood.

From our earliest years, the ego is formed. Our deepest need is to gain love + approval from our parents + caregivers. The ego, in an attempt to protect creates a concept of self identity in alignment with what we believe will give us this love.We begin to say "I am smart" or "I am strong" or "I am bad at x." We internalize the beliefs of our parents about who we are + who other people are + how the world is. All of this ego identity unconscious. Because we are not taught about our egos, we are unaware they exist. So we operate as if we ARE the ego. This brings us a ton of our own suffering + shame. It makes us feel "stuck" + unable to escape our learned patterns. That's what ego does: keeps us repeating the past. Ego work is the process of questioning the ego stories that are just thoughts + not "reality." Becoming conscious to this allows us to access CHOICE in how we respond.

- @the.holistic.psychologist

Now aware of my ego and really getting to the heart of why I'm bad at sharing my feelings and why in past relationships I was described as "distant" and "inattentive" but also “good listener but won’t open up”.  Today, I can honestly say I'm no longer in that dark place I was before. I'm beginning to relearn the things I loved and truly appreciate them. I'm being the true goofy, silly, marine scientist I always wanted to be. I have friends who do care about me and I've tried to open up more emotionally. Of course I have a long way to go and constant improvement is necessary. 2020 allowed me to return to myself, not the burnt out, bitter and depressed woman I had become. I'm happy 2020 happened and for the first time in years, I'm excited for what the future brings.

[eveninglottie]

write what you want regardless of the genders. it's better to spit the story out and then go back and revise then get hung up on whether or not every interaction or plot point could be part of an 800 word call-out tweet-longer that briefly trends on fanfic twitter. everyone comes at fiction from their own distinct background. you could write the most 'pure' romance ever, regardless of the genders, and it could still inadvertently trigger someone or raise concerns. comfort can be misleading.

so I don’t want you to think I’m disagreeing with you here, because you’re right. people spend way too much time thinking out the possible doomsday scenarios of what they might do instead of just doing it to see what happens. I am one of those people, for sure, it’s stopped me from doing pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted to do my whole life, so we’re on the same page here with both the concept of not worrying about what other people will think and also how no one holds the magic gatekeeping key which dictates what is problematic or not. every person is different and some things will upset people in a way that doesn’t upset you. that’s just a given. 

but I think that’s not really helpful when you’re trying to figure out your own motivations for doing something. 

like, yes, is a lot of this affected by how I think other people will react to things I create? of course. everything i do will be affected by how I think other people will react. that’s just how my brain works, and it’s my job to keep growing more confident in myself to counteract that (because the older you get you really do give less of a fuck and boy it’s so nice!!) what I was trying to bring up in that post was my own reasons for feeling more comfortable writing one thing than another. 

because I just think it’s fascinating and complicated and I’ve mentioned more than once to friends that it really just surprised me how freeing writing m/m has been vs m/f. it’s like my descent into sk was this moment of enlightenment when I realized “hey this is a hell of a lot easier to talk about when there are two boys involved!” like I realize that the majority of my writing the past two years has been on my own, and even though I can tell you’ve I’ve written well over 500k words and only posted maybe a fifth of that I can’t prove what I’m about to say so you’re just going to have to take my word for it, BUT I’ve included so much more discussion about sexuality and how characters express it and grow with it and figure out for themselves what they are. like it was never a thing I thought about a lot when I was writing my m/f fics (even tho all the women were still bi but that’s a whole other barrel of monkeys). it was never me sitting down and interrogating my choice for writing that pairing the way I did. I just did it. (I didn’t stop to consider the gender is what I mean, I thought about literally all the other things but gender and sexuality were not included in that) but now there’s a whole other sphere of characterization that I keep finding myself drawn to, and even without realizing it, it becomes a big part of how I write certain characters. (like deciding to write keith as demi while still being sexually and physically attracted to shiro has been really eye opening for me as someone on the asexual spectrum.)

because like, for example, I wrote a fem!bilbo fic, right? so clearly I was thinking about gender a bit, but most of that had to do with me having always reimagined that story (and lotr) with female protagonists. that’s what I did with a lot of childhood faves, actually, eragon, harry potter being two of the most prominent, and thinking about fem!bilbo and how that would change the story especially if she was in a relationship with thorin and the shire was maybe a bit more stifling for a woman, etc. - BUT that was one of those pairings that I’d never been drawn to when it was m/m. I couldn’t really get into it, and I was not a fan of the hobbit movies at all, honestly, and I tried, and it was only when I switched things around did that fic click for me, but I wonder a lot if I were to have come to hobbit fic later, after I’d gotten over my aversion to m/m (not in general, just me writing it, because reasons), would I have written it with bilbo as a boy? would I have been less likely to imagine bilbo as a woman? or was it a number of factors that led me to write that fic which really couldn’t have existed in any other incarnation, and would it have been a different fic entirely?

(the hp thing in particular is SO WEIRD to think about now because a lot of what I’ve been grappling with in my drarry fic is very male-centric? not like in a bad way, just thinking about the rivalry and bonds between boys and how boys look up to their male mentors and authority figures in very different ways than they do their female counterparts and also what does being interested in other boys do to one’s internalized and very misogynistic/homophobic ideas of Legacy and Family and Proper Gender Expression specifically when it comes to sex with other men like it’s Very Gendered in my head and it’s hard to separate that from what I used to be interested in which has expressed itself in other ways, specifically roslyn as chosen one in ascendant which I’ve said before was the result of a decade of rewriting those boy heroes as girls because I felt so connected to them and wanted girls to be every bit as important as boys, like I could draw a straight line from me writing bits and bobs of girl!harry as a fourteen year old and me writing roslyn in ascendant and wow I kind of want to punch myself in the face for how long I’ve rambled on about my own stuff but you know what no this is my tumblr and I get to obsessively and exhaustively talk about my own fictional worlds if I want to)

so it’s been a bit of a mindfuck trying to reconcile this shift in my own interests with the fact that I am a woman who identifies as largely asexual. and I think it’s important to sit down with yourself every once in a while and really look at the things you produce and do some self-examination. because I do wonder a lot if my comfort writing m/m now is because of this lack of pressure I normally feel when writing female characters or if it’s because I don’t have to interact with Me As Author so much when I write about boys because I am not a boy or if it’s because I feel a lot more comfortable identifying as queer when for the majority of my life I’d forced myself to be straight even though it didn’t feel right. 

then there’s the whole conversation about women writing m/m and how a lot of queer men feel they’re being fetishized or that their stories are being appropriated by women, in the same way that white people writing stories about people of color can be appropriative, men writing about women, straights writing about lgbtq+, cis people writing about trans or genderqueer people, et cetera with literally any minority being written by someone not from that minority, right? 

and I think it’s a bit reductive to say that it doesn’t matter. because it does matter. you’re right in saying that it matters to someone and I think the job of anyone who creates any kind of content is to think about that and be mindful that you don’t create in a vacuum. your art has power even if you don’t think it does, if you don’t want it to, and that’s something no one should take for granted.

now, I am not saying that certain people do not have the right to write certain stories. no one has the right to write anything, just as no one is forbidden from writing anything. and no one writing anything should be harassed for writing something that people perceive is out of their wheelhouse (because a lot of marginalizations are not visible! abuse, disability, sexual orientation, gender identity, whether you’re neurotypical or not! and there’s no requirement that you make public your trauma/identity to provide cred! in fact it’s kind of horrific that anyone thinks this!) it’s a complicated dynamic but the more we talk about these things the easier it is when a marginalized person says, “hey this thing you wrote is kind of bad,” the writer can go “oh man I’m sorry, let me think about it and see what I did wrong so I can do better in the future” OR “oh wow I see what you mean, but this is important to me” and the reader can go “I respect your right to write what you want and in the future I’ll do more to shield myself from this kind of content” instead of Cancelling someone because they didn’t effectively prostrate themselves before the ultimate judges of problematic content, a bunch of randos on the internet.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, yes, I agree with you that it’s not necessary to worry about this stuff, and that a lot of it is energy wasted especially when you’re worrying about theoretical responses from people who read your stuff, but that’s not helpful to me, because I think that’s disregarding the fact that we live in a society with weird power dynamics that are constantly shifting. I think it’s my job as someone who is mentally capable of dealing with this kind of self-examination to push back on some of these things when I can. because if I didn’t challenge myself every once in a while, I wouldn’t grow as a person or a writer and if there was one mantra I would live my life by besides the assertion that I would be blissfully happy if I downloaded my consciousness into a robot body, it would be that You Have To Be Okay With Critique and It’s Good When People Call You Out In A Safe Setting, like everyone is a dick and an asshole and a Bad Person and pretending you’re not is the most useless battle you could ever fight. we contain multitudes and some of those tudes are downright ugly.

quick sidebar: I would not have been able to have this kind of conversation with myself four years ago, and something I have not even talked about is how my shift toward more m/m content began at the same time as I was getting used to getting medical treatment for my grab bag of mental illnesses, like it’s pretty obvious that I got into sk right about the time I settled into my meds so what does That even mean?? so many THINGS to consider!!

idk. I know when I write stuff like this people think I’m beating myself up over it, but I’m really not. I just like talking about it sometimes and this tumblr is where all my neuroses go to live forever more in the annals of this blue hell until I chicken out and delete them the next day. I guess I know that when I read other people talking about things I’ve also been thinking about, it’s nice to hear. and as this is something that is still new to me, fandom in general is still bonkers to a part of my brain because I came into it as an adult, the whole conversation (if there even is a conversation because there might not be but there’s one going on in my brain) about women writing m/m is interesting complicated and something I think about a lot. clearly without any real focus or conclusions to be drawn, because I dropped out of college and never learned how to make my point in a concise and understandable manner. 

anyway I hope you don’t read this as me arguing with you nonny, I just wanted to clarify what I mean in the original post

[ra-lek]

I have watched mr robot so many times and I am still confused to why they picked “red wheelbarrow” as season 2 and 3’s symbol and how it ties the show together? Where did it come from? What’s the actual significance of it?

aalright first thing’s first- i’m so sorry for the long wait. i’ve been busy & all over the place but i wanted to give this ask my full attention because i’m beyoNd excited to get into it!! 

second- this gets long. like, very long. so if you’re cool w that; buckle up, click on that ‘read more’ and let’s go: the red wheelbarrow

i’m gonna attempt to explain all the questions above- to the best of my ability. but to do so i have to make something clear: as you will see in my analysis below, or if you’ve, y’know, seen the show- mr robot does not play episodes in chronological order. or scenes, for that matter. 

there was absolutely no way to know anything about a red wheelbarrow until the end of s2- so, naturally, there are going to be gaps in my list. but in order to fill them, we need to see what we missed out on once s4 comes out. (this is basically my apologies in advance if some questions are left unanswered)

so, some facts: the red wheelbarrow is a poem written by william carlos williams & published in 1923. it’s a real, existing poem, and the first time it appears in mr robot is actually in the FIRST season. and that’s exactly why it’s such a staple to the rest of the story. 

but you see, the scene itself is split into puzzle pieces across 3 seasons.

so let’s treat it as such. i’m going to list & highlight important scenes in each season the best i can and then we’ll piece it all together, sounds good?

SEASON 1

this is the very base of the series. so it’s not surprising the red wheelbarrow is nested within it. trust me, if i attempted to piece everything together in one post it’ll be longer than a fucking bible so i’m only going to focus on the god night™

okay, so- the first time some shady shit happened was in episode 8 when we saw an SUV parked at coney island in which tyrell and mr robot were sitting & having a discussion. tyrell starts the conversation by saying he has to know what mr robot is planning because they were meant to be allies; that they want the same thing & he wants to be involved. 

mr robot responds with flat out telling him he’s wrong- that there’s nothing they could possibly agree on. tyrell demands more explanations and mr robot is so fed up at this point he goes to leave only to be pulled back by his shirt. tyrell asks “aren’t you forgetting i know about your dirty little secret? there are people close to you who wouldn’t be happy if they knew what i know” to which robot replies casually. they’re both too smart to allow pettiness to dictate their actions, there’s no benefit to either one of them to say those things to anybody- and that the best thing for tyrell to do when it comes to HIM? is nothing.

the scene ends there but transitions into mr wellick coming home lookin’ like a wreck and downing half a bottle of vodka- this surprises joanna since she actually heard some good news from tyrell’s lawyer- but he interrupts by telling her none of that matters; because there’s this tech he met a month ago, talks about his motives a bit to a very concerned woman at this point- and when he mentions not seeing what’s above them- she asks what it is exactly. he responds, “god.”

at this point into the show, the ‘who is mr robot’ reveal hasn’t happened yet. 

the conversation he had with tyrell happened the day before it, actually. since, in the same episode, elliot gets to find out who his family is- and the episode ends with mr robot saying “it’s time to talk.” and the reason i know this is because the following episode starts and,

episode 9. 

suddenly, it’s morning. elliot is freaking out and yelling and he’s confused and we’re confused and we’re yelling and mr robot is not helping at all by being so goddamn vague but there is one sentence that stands out and that is - “especially since that unprompted visit from tyrell wellick last night”

he is referring to the car scene only. because both he and tyrell came home after that talk- so it is not a 5/9 attack they did then. because, once again, there’s a sentence mr robot says: “i’ll explain everything. tonight.”

alright then so how do i explain the fact darlene was in elliot’s room looking for his meds after the reveal scene and THEN tyrell entered? – it’s actually pretty simple, it didn’t happen the day of the reveal. 

because, remember, elliot realized who darlene was the day before. she is concerned because he forgot again. those are the meds she’s looking for- they never acknowledge HIM.

once she leaves, and says she’ll be back with the meds soon- it’s understandable why she’s been looking for elliot for quite some time earlier in the episode and why mr robot came to elliot’s apartment at night- but they only had the ‘talk’ in the morning.

that same, unfortunate night for elliot tbh, tyrell enters the room and says he’s been waiting for darlene to leave. he approaches him for the first time, tells him how he strangled a woman and how he knows everything elliot’s been behind. that’s he’s the one constant in the sea of variables. so, he puts on his ‘fighting’ gloves and-

next thing we know, we’re in the arcade. elliot talks about changing the world and whatnot- says no one else is involved- tyrell very beautifully says “well it’s you and me now” and the episode ends with elliot looking over to the popcorn machine.

this is the night of the 5/9 attack.

we know, because elliot wakes up in tyrell’s car- 2 days later- and is met with world destruction (the song) playing in the background. you know what i mean- the deed has been done we don’t have time for this.

one more thing to point out about s1 before we wrap that one up is: when elliot searches for tyrell, joanna recognized him as the young tech her husband told her about when he was going on about god or whatever. she asked him when she last saw him and if he seemed strange- elliot replied with “a week ago” and “no” which she found funny because, the last time she saw him, he was acting very strange. 

SEASON 2

elliot put himself in jail out of spite. anyway, as i said, not a lot of time to decipher everything so let’s get to the main meal. we get some teasers about tyrell being a wanted criminal associated w fsociety and the one behind 5/9. that’s all the info we need cause the piece we’re searching for here is in episode 12.

we get the full version of the car scene!! this time, we see elliot as mr robot- delivering the same line. however, we were lead to believe that once mr robot exited the car it was the end of the scene but no no no no no- tyrell now opens his door and calls out to elliot.

he’s desperate and just wants to be a part of this project honestly so he says there’s something between them and he can feel it. now, mr robot/elliot says “you’re only seeing what’s in front of you. you’re not seeing what’s above you” tyrell asks for an explanation, doesn’t get one, and so he decides to fight cryptic with cryptic and recite the poem we mentioned like 7 hours ago.

“so much depends upon a red wheelbarrow, glazed with rainwater, beside the white chickens.”

now mr robot/elliot is intrigued. he lowers his head slightly and tyrell explains how his father used to quote that old poem all the time, how it meant so much to him, that it had been the only english he knew. so today, tyrell is using it as a reminder. a reminder of him, and a reminder of what he never wants to become.

i’m going to take one more paragraph to dedicate to this season and say: no this is not the only important thing. i’m just trying to not spiral out of the main focus. but if you’re interested you can send me an ask about red wheelbarrow spottings and meanings in s2 by just sending “godot?” and i gotchu, granted, in a few days- but i gotchu.

SEASON 3

this is where we get the full picture. well, sorta. because we don’t know exactly what happened after they part ways. but it’s okay, it’s not like the show is over.

now, a psychology break: elliot alderson suffers from dissociative identity disorder. (shocker, i know) mr robot is an alter. but you know a fun fact? most DID cases have more than just one alter. there’s at least two besides the host personality. and they all serve a specific purpose in order to keep you alive and help you cope with extreme trauma. 

mr robot, as we’ve seen him, is a protector. the moment tyrell put on those beating gloves it was a trigger and mr robot took over. same for when those neo-nazis were punching elliot, same for when he took a beating from ray’s men, and so on. — point is: alters come out with a help of a trigger. just how elliot says talking to darlene makes him see mr robot more often, for instance.

this is important because, even though neither he nor mr robot remember the quote, elliot can’t stop thinking about red wheelbarrows. he’s named his journal after it, he draws wheelbarrows in it.

the red wheelbarrow. something tyrell associated with his father whom he despised. something about that changed something in elliot- it could’ve been a trigger, it might’ve pulled another alter forward.

so, without further ado, let’s paint:

how about we pick up from what we see in s1e9. since, all of this happens in that day. welcome to 5/9

elliot remembers leading tyrell into the arcade, he remembers looking at popcorn. and that’s it. (he says so at the beginning of his journal, too) elliot switched with mr robot for enough time to remember tyrell and popcorn. but also there’s just something about wheelbarrows that keeps ringing in his head during his time in prison.

next, everything is from mr robot’s perspective. he slowly reaches for the gun, aims it at tyrell, fires- but nothing happens. this leads tyrell to an impressive conclusion: they’re gods. he insists they were destined to be together and work together. so he says “now i understand- when you told me i wasn’t seeing what was above me” and while he goes off we see mr robot’s face frowning with confusion because.

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

he doesn’t remember saying that, doesn’t remember the poem. but he disregards all of that once tyrell drops on his knees and aims the gun at his own head. he wants to test fate once more, so they do. which is when mr robot decides tyrell is just the right amount of crazy to save him from himself.

as the hacking is happening, the dark army arrives. irving, walking in, explains the honeypot situation which was reported to the FBI (dark army owns them) so. they’re here.

remember, elliot had discussed the honeypot with whiterose- not mr robot.

irving sees the gun on the table, sees the situation, casually threatens both of them in this very charming way of his. it’s very clear they’re fucked and have to comply with what the dark army says. they ask mr robot if he knows how to drive that SUV out front- he says yes. irving explains they will be taking care of tyrell, cause now he’s the most wanted criminal there is- and robot is advised to drive it to a location elliot wakes up in season 1 finale.

above him, glasses with an usb containing the ‘boardwalk fail’ clip. 

NOW,

tyrell got taken to a cabin, kept away from the world, chopping wood and asking where elliot is, chatting with irving occasionally- until one day he wakes to see some unusual things, among which is mr. williams if you remember, that’s the last name of the poet- but doesn’t have to mean much. 

he asks him questions, until he proves he’s loyal to them. however, he says he is only loyal to elliot. which is a good answer- because the DA is now giving him a laptop and they’re starting to work on stage2. but then;

“the operation will be called the red wheelbarrow, mr. alderson’s request.”

THAT is how it ties everything together, where it came from, who said it, the only thing left to decipher is why it stuck. maybe we can leave that for another time?

there are plenty of different interpretations when it comes to the poem, honestly. it seems tyrell’s resentment towards his father, and mr robot calling elliot’s dad a zero- was what got to elliot, or whoever it was, that can relate.

lemme know what you think!! i hope you’re satisfied w the answer and, again, im so sorry for the long wait. 

if there are any mistakes just keep in mind it’s 7am right now and i need some mercy.

[miccicci]

                                       CRIPTOLOGY 101

                                       RootShoot78 (Miccicci)

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001558 

Fandom: Person of Interest 

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Root (Samantha Groves),Sameen Shaw, Harold Finch, the Machine

Relationships: Root (Samantha Groves) / Sameen Shaw 

Summary:

The one in which Root keeps writing coded messages to Shaw just to piss her off and Shaw wants to punch her in the face (as usual).

The first time it happened was a Sunday afternoon. Shaw was playing fetch with Bear when she got a text from Root, whom she thought was sleeping in the other room.

01001011 01101001 01110011 01110011 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01101001 01100110 00100000 01101001 00100111 01101101 00100000 01110111 01110010 01101111 01101110 01100111 00101100 00100000 01100010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101001 01101110 01101111 01110011 01100001 01110101 01110010 01110011 00100000 01110011 01110100 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100101 01111000 01101001 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110010 01101001 01100111 01101000 01110100 00111111

Shaw looked puzzled, her eyes falling on a heart emoji at the end. “What the hell is this?”

She entered the bedroom without knocking and found Root cross-legged on the bed, working on her laptop.

“Root”. She completely ignored her. “Root” she called louder.

“Mh, yeah?” she said distractedly, barely raising her eyes.

“Did the Machine finally damage your head?”

Root’s lips curved to form a little wry smile. “Why, do you miss role-playing? You be the human and I’ll be the robot?” she said, not even trying to hide her smirk.

When Shaw didn’t answer, she shrugged her shoulders and continued: “I just thought it’d be fun to explore new ways of communicating”.

“Communication is effective when speaker and listener understand the same code of language. I don’t speak nerd.”

Root tilted her head and gave her a both stern and amused look. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few numbers now, Sameen” she challenged her.

Shaw stared back at her for a few moments and then sighed. “Fine”.

She closed the door and grabbed Root’s second laptop that was resting on the desk. She groaned while searching for a way to convert what she believed was binary code and knowing she would regret this already. Once she’d put all the zeros and ones into the converter and sneaked a few disapproving glances at Root in the meantime, she clicked the convert button, only half curious as to what she would find there, the other half was already preparing to roll her eyes.

“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

Shaw stared at the screen with a deadpan expression, not sure what to think. She looked at Root. “Kill me if I’m right, you’re getting everyday more annoying, aren’t you?”

“So you didn’t think it was cute?” she said, teasing her.

“Yeah sure Root, you’re adorable…” Root smiled, detecting Shaw’s sarcasm “…like an intestinal parasite.”

“I love your similes”. Everything that came out of Shaw’s mouth sounded endearing to her.

Shaw groaned. “Just stick to English next time, ok?”

After closing the laptop, Shaw got up and walked towards the door followed by Root’s eyes, but when she had her hand on the knob, she stopped. Root looked at her curiously, but just as she was about to ask her what was wrong, Shaw turned around and to her surprise, she planted a quick kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” Root asked a little dumbfounded, as anytime Shaw would do something unexpected like that. “I thought you were going to punch me”.

“Well…” she said “…you are wrong.” And with a smirk playing on her lips she walked away, leaving a dreamy Root behind.

___________________

The second time it happened, Shaw was in the subway with Finch. She hadn’t had a break for ten hours and was about to take the first bite of her pastrami sandwich, when the screen in front of her lit up.

“BTHBTLYNLSZMIIAEXQ?”

She eyed it suspiciously. “Finch, I think your computer is trying to talk to you.” She hummed when she finally got to taste her sandwich. "Better than sex.”

“What do you mean it’s trying to talk to me? Is it the Machine?”

She shrugged and nodded towards the computer. Finch studied the message and stated that it’d probably been written by a human, to which Shaw made an acknowledging sound in between mouthfuls, but then stopped chewing when realization dawned on her. “It’s her” she said with her mouth full. She tried to ignore it and focused all her attention on the delicious sandwich in her hands. But the more she ate, the more she thought about what that meant. And the more she thought, the more she got angry that her first meal of the day had been ruined. She sighed heavily and put down her half-eaten sandwich. “Finch, this is for me.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s Root. I don’t know if she’s going crazy or she just wants to piss me off, but she’s sending me these coded messages or whatever and all I want to do is eat my sandwich. I have no idea how to crack this thing, can you do it?”

Finch gave her an alarmed look. “Of course, Miss Shaw.”

“Thanks” she said, resuming to eat.

After a while, Finch updated Shaw: “It would appear Miss Groves has furtherly encrypted the message using another cipher, these letters make no sense. Let me work on it.”

“Sure, whatever.“

It was only five minutes until he spoke again: “Oh dear.”

“What”

“She- um… Well, she…” Finch stuttered awkwardly, adjusting his glasses.

Shaw narrowed her eyes, hopped down and looked over Finch to scan a piece of paper in his hands and her eyes widened. She violently grabbed the paper from his hands and stormed out of the subway, leaving him alone with this new trauma.

___________________

“Wanna fuck me tonight? Really?!”

“Well… do you?” Root said in a saccharine sweet voice.

“Finch read that!”

“Well honey…that’s why it was encrypted.”

“Are you serious? The only reason he read that is because you encrypted it! And you couldn’t just…” she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “You really needed to use a combination of two ciphers to tell me to fuck you?”

“Are you giving me permission to simply slip naked in your bed next time, then?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I think you should.”

“I think I should shoot you.”

“Mmh, kinky” she said, causing Shaw to roll her eyes. “I thought we would be done with guns at this point.”

“A girl can dream.”

“Of course.” Root replied. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m always mad at you. Right now I really want to hurt you.”

This was the way with Root. She would either send you a secret coded invitation or she’d straight up slip into your bed naked. Who needs half measures anyway?

Root ventured to hook a finger in Shaw’s jeans’ loops to get her close but instead she found herself slammed against the wall by Shaw’s strong arms, their faces only inches apart. What was with Shaw and her gluing herself to Root everytime she was pissed at her? Not that she minded, of course. When she had recovered her breath, she said: “It was really that embarrassing with Finch, huh?”

“You have no idea” she growled, her low voice sending a shiver down Root’s spine.

“Why don’t I make it up to you tonight…“ she said with a suggestive smile, tracing a finger down Shaw’s chest ”…my offer is still valid.“

Shaw scowled, batting Root’s hand away and backing off her. “Why do you always have to be so irritating?”

“That’s why you love me.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Even though she felt the urge to hit her, she had to admit the offer was tempting, but she still wanted her to pay.

“Let’s make a deal”.

“Mh?” Root ‘s curiosity was piqued.

“If tonight you can get me off in less than one minute…” she paused, Root’s curiosity was definitely engaged now, “… you’re safe. If you can’t do that-”

“Tsk, please.”

“If you can’t do that, I’m gonna make your life a living hell for the next week.”

Root didn’t hesitate: “Deal.”

___________________

Fuck this woman and her tongue.

Shaw was trying her best not to come, but Root was using all her best tricks and it was proving really hard to resist. She even started to grind around Root’s fingers unconsciously and barely fought the urge to grab her by the hair to push her in. A moan escaped her mouth as she had almost forgotten about their deal at this point.

But then Root stopped abruptly. “Sorry Sam, the Machine needs me.”

“What? Seriously?” Shaw said, instantly missing the expert fingers that had left her on the edge.

“She’s printing me a new identity as we speak”.

“Ugh, you can’t even finish me?”

Root laughed: “Someone’s eager. Weren’t you supposed to give me hell for a week?”

“In fact I didn’t come, the minute is over” she said lying to herself.

“Yeah but you were pretty close to coming. If the Machine hadn’t called-”

“Bullshit. It doesn’t count.”

Root tilted her head and smiled, curling her nose. “I think it does.”

Shaw, who was resting on her elbows, dropped dramatically onto the bed and groaned, while Root went to pack a little bag with her guns and some clothes. Once she got everything she needed, she climbed on the bed to kiss her favourite sociopath goodbye. Shaw waited until Root was out the door to say: "I won.”

“No you didn’t.“

___________________

The next day, Sameen was stuck in the subway alone, bored and frustrated that they had left her there. She was cleaning all her guns for the fourth time when a message popped up on the monitor very much like the day before. She was certain it couldn’t be Root this time, since she was on a mission and wouldn’t have time for this. But when she took a look at the screen, she frowned.

“486F6E65792C2077652072616E206F7574206F66206D696C6B2C2063616E20796F752062757920697420706C656173653F”

“It better be the Machine who hacked her brain.”

She noticed something that startled her then. “Wait, she’s using the fucking emergency line?”

Shaw was furious, she started to pace the room.

She’s on a mission, maybe she needs help? She’s using this code for extra safety?

She whistled for Bear to come. “Come here buddy”. She threw a bone for him to catch.

No, she’s just teasing me again. I’m not playing her stupid ass game.

“Good boy.” She scratched his ears while he lunched forward to lick her face.

But why did she use the emergency line? What if she’s in trouble and I’m not helping her?

She tried to resist, she really did, but the thought of an injured Root by the hands of someone that wasn’t her made her angry and overcame the annoyance she was feeling. So she gave in, she sat massaging her temples and started decoding the message. After a few attempts she screamed in frustration and kicked the computer, annoyed that she had to turn to the internet to figure it out, but she had a feeling that this time Root was being serious. Come on.

After a quick research she discovered it was hexadecimals and ran the code to convert the message to ASCII.

“Honey, we ran out of milk, can you buy it please?”

Shaw blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Unfortunately, she wasn’t. Root had actually sent her a coded message to tell her to buy fucking milk. She felt herself starting to tremble from rage, since Root wasn’t even remotely in danger and was probably home watching her somehow and laughing. She got up from the chair, determined to end this once and for all.

“You keep watch on this place, I’ll be back soon” she said to Bear and then grabbed a bottle of expensive looking scotch before heading out.

When she got home, she found Root leaning on her desk, intent on working on her laptop, she didn’t even see her. Shaw sneaked towards her in absolute silence, until- SBAM! She slammed the bottle on her desk. Root jumped and made a little squeal, bringing her hand to her chest instinctively. “Jesus, you scared me”.

“Good.”

“Oh nice, you brought drinks”.

Shaw snatched the bottle away from Root before she could even touch it. “Not for you.” She moved the bottle on the table and grabbed a glass.

Root pouted. “Mh, why so grumpy?”

“I’ll fucking kill you, Root.”

Root raised her eyes from the laptop while she continued to type and smiled knowingly.

Shaw poured herself a much needed drink and smelled it briefly, then muttered into her glass: “Thank God Finch buys top shelf.”

“Maybe you should spank me instead”.

Shaw choked and sputtered her whiskey, her throat burned but she still managed to give Root a death glare.

“Mmh, that’s just the look I was hoping for.” Root bit her lip, her voice an innuendo.

Despite herself, Shaw felt a pool of heat in her lower belly, making its way through her anger and easing her just enough not to punch her in the face that instant. Nonetheless, she pretended not to be affected by her words and if possible, she looked even more pissed, pursing her lips. Unfazed, Root got up and close to the shorter brunette and whispered seductively in her ear: “I’ve been such a bad girl, Sameen, you need to punish me.”

Shaw’s spine tingled with pleasure and irritation and she lifted her gaze to see a smirk forming on the hacker’s lips. She reconsidered punching her, but she knew Root would never stop until she indulged her, so shaking her head almost imperceptibly, she fluttered her eyes shut and sighed: “I guess…If I killed you, the Machine would go full AI on my ass. This sounds a lot more fun.” Then she added: “Although the real punishment for you would be no punishment at all, but I am still missing an orgasm from last night, so.”

Root perked up. “Soo, are you free tonight?” she asked playfully, she knew she was. Her eyes were sparkling with their usual mischief.

“You know I am. Just remember that I’m gonna get back at you for doing this, at some point. And I swear to God, if you ever use another damn code or whatever, I’m gonna end you.”

LATER THAT NIGHT

“Root?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Are you doing Morse Code on my clitoris with your tongue?”

“…maybe” she said, “Do you want me to stop?”

There was an emphatic silence from Shaw, while she collected her thoughts and remembered her previous threats.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Root.”

Shaw stared blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds, then closing her eyes, she slowly exhaled and said reluctantly: “No, don’t stop.”

Root instantly wore a smug grin. “Didn’t you say-”

Shaw huffed loudly and pushed Root’s head back between her legs. “Shut up”.

Revenge could wait.

[sailor-cresselia]

Zi-o 15: Raw: -concern intensifies-

AH. WELL THEN. THIS SURE IS AN EPISODE THAT I CAN’T UNDERSTAND YET. OH MY. A LOT OF STUFF TO UNPACK AND I CAN’T GET IT OPEN.

Woz is getting increasingly more casual in his recap room.

*frustrated sounds* I don’t know what Geiz is saying here, and I really really want to. But he’s clearly not okay with Tsukasa’s whole deal.

I’m getting the vibe of “I hate you. I hate you, but this other guy might actually be a bigger threat. We might actually have to... UGH. Work together to stop him.”

Also, like, absolutely none of these people – not Tsukiyomi and Geiz, and not the Time Jackers – have the right to get on Sougo’s case about altering the timeline during the past few arcs. That is literally what all of them except maybe Woz are doing. Constantly. It is their entire goal.

Ooh, so Sougo is about to explain that ‘I’ve always dreamed of being a king’ thing he’s got going on?

Or, no, no he’s not, because Woz is stepping in to deflect the topic.

Woz is as aware as the audience that the single most efficient way to clear Sougo’s uncle from the area for an extended period of time is to give him a clock to fix. It’s a little sad, actually.

Not sad enough to make me trust either of them, though.

Sougo: So, are you going to explain why you joined the Time Jackers?

Woz: Eh, maybe. But I thought you’d like to know about the trouble going on outside right now. ;)

WHAT THE FLYING F ARE THOSE.

It makes complete sense that they’re sent by Oma Zi-o. They look like fancier, more ‘modern’ versions of the Time Mazines.

And also seem to be triggering a fair amount of PTSD for Geiz.

(The ~magenta~ lines give them a very Cyber-Decade aesthetic.)

Oh. Oh dear.

SOUGO HAS SEEN THEM IN HIS DREAMS.

...the un-burning page is back at the end of the OP. It was definitely the front-on explosions in 14. Huh.

… I’m gonna be doing an OP comparison soon, aren’t I?

(That’s actually really good english on the feed Tsukuyomi’s watching. A-, Toei. I also noticed that she’s using a regular smartphone like Sougo is.)

(and that it’s pink)

“You said you dreamed about them. What do you mean?” (Concerned Geiz is concerned.)

o.o

O.O

O.O

Those things are why Sougo’s wanted to become a king. Because he kept dreaming about them destroying everything, over and over, and always with a seriously sketchy (my term, not his) man telling him… I think it’s basically “If you want to avoid this, if you want to save everyone, become a king.”

This is absolutely terrifying. No wonder the noodle is so dead-set on becoming a beloved king.

Yup, time to panic. That thing is terrifying, too. That’s… what, a robotic enforcer?

“Oma Zi-o Sama.” I don’t think that even Woz uses ‘sama’ for Sougo, for either his present or future versions. He constantly uses ‘waga maou’ and ‘oma zi-o’, but I don’t recall him using -sama. huh.

Aaaaaaaa! That’s some serious ‘identify and eliminate’ going on there.

(with some pretty decent english in the enforcers Heads Up Display, too. That A- from earlier is upgraded to a solid A, Toei. Good going.)

Okay, since I have no idea what is going on with either of the two Time Jacker scenes, I’m going to have to skip them for now. All I can say is that Tsukasa’s not pleased with the current turn of events. And I’m still not pleased with that flashing light in his apartment.

Okay, okay. so.

I think what I’m hearing is...

“We’re going to have to be prepared to take him out. I’m a soldier, remember? I was starting to believe maybe your way would work. That maybe he wouldn’t become Oma Zi-o after all. Maybe he could pull off that ‘most beloved overlord’ idea. But it’s not working. I have to be a soldier.”

(oh, god, earlier in the episode, at breakfast… was he trying to convince Sougo to give up the belt? Was that a last-ditch effort? Geiz… did you think something was about to happen?)

You know, I don’t think we’ve ever seen either Sougo or Geiz’s transformations from behind before now. In motion, yeah, in terrible green-screen sometimes, like last episode… but never completely from behind.

And I’m starting to really think that the visuals of Geiz’s transformation reflect on his current emotional state or something. Because sometimes the display is a lot darker than other times. When he transformed in Helheim, it was almost completely black, but it was back to it’s usual medium-grey both during the Ghost arc and right here, in the warehouse, with him and Tsukuyomi turning away from each other.

Where’d Tsukuyomi get knocked to? Is she okay? I know that the Enforcer attacking Geiz takes priority, and that the Enforcer acknowledging that Sougo is his boss and ignoring him anyway takes just as much priority, but I’m not liking Tsukuyomi’s odds right now.

...Sougo’s transformation dial is a lot more transparent than usual, isn’t it?

Get out of here, Tsukasa, let Sougo help Geiz!

This fight is really interesting, though. This is the first time that either of the current kids have seen Decade as Decade. He’s… what, he’s asking why Sougo would help Geiz?

(cue Zero’s “What am I fighting for?!” scream here)

Sougo is in obvious, actual pain. None of the fights have really had him deal with that – my earlier comments about ‘this kid is tougher than he looks’ still stand. The only hits that have done enough damage to knock him down long-term are the ones from Decade. The ones that are from an actual Rider.

And Sougo’s reaction to Decade swapping into Build… hm.

“You’re using Build? In that case...” He activates the watch, blocks Decade’s sword one-armed, and spins his belt with the other hand.  And he doesn’t waste any time inserting the Build watch – Decade immediately asks “Oh, so you’re using my watch?” “Not just that.”

When Sougo lands a solid punch, it has the same effects that the real Rabbit-Tank Sparkling would have. And manages to knock Decade back.

… both of those finishers were right. Decade’s and Sougo’s. I mean, the sparkling finisher was smaller than the regular one, but they’re inside, and it was executed correctly.

What was it I said last episode? That when he stops being a bootleg, we’re in trouble?

I think we’re in trouble.

Both Woz and Tsukasa are saying “See? You can’t fight fate, you and Geiz will always be enemies. This enforcer that is trying to hurt him leapt to your defense.”

Sougo is incredibly not okay with this. He really doesn’t want to be evil, you guys.

“Oh, you think you can be a good demon king? Here. Take a look at your future.” Tsukasa opens one of his weird portals (I have not seen decade) and straight up shoots Sougo in the back to knock him through it.

And that’s interesting, but so is the next part. He knocks the enforcer away from Geiz, and drags Geiz off. “Come on!”

What’s your game, Tsukasa?

(Sure, now Woz is okay with Sougo meeting with a version of himself from elsewhen.)

No comments on the Tsukasa, Geiz and Woz scene from me; I can’t tell enough of what’s being said to say anything aside from Geiz is not okay with any of this.

Sougo’s not okay with 2068, either.

(How long has Oma Zi-O been in power, anyway?)

And what the heck was that that just teleported Sougo and Tsukuyomi to Oma Zi-o?!

(Is that from Ryuki or something? It looks like a dragon of some sort, and I think it’s the right color scheme, but I know absolutely jack all about early Heisei. It sounded like a train, though.)

I don’t feel confident commenting on the Sougo and Oma Zi-O conversation, either. Not outside of the next few lines.

Sougo is absolutely not okay with anything happening today.

I think... did Oma Zi-O send the dreams to young!Sougo? It sure sounds like it. Seeing the trauma he’s clearly inflicting on himself by doing that, I can safely say that that is not okay.

(I’m having King Endymion from Sailor Moon R flashbacks, guys.)

Sougo. Honey. You aren’t going to win this fight. He’s clearly older and more experienced. He has all of the same powers, but in the more concentrated watch form - you can only get to the ones you’re using with the HeiSaber. He doesn’t even have to use the watches in a normal fashion to beat you – he’s just activating the watch and redirecting your attacks. You can’t win here.

(And seeing the dragon return confirms for me, the person who hasn’t seen anything pre-W, that it is, in fact, from Ryuki.)

Oma Zi-O’s belt still reads 2018. That’s not a good sign for our Sougo not being him someday.

What is he saying about our Sougo’s belt, though? Is he saying that “you can’t win with that version”?

Is he saying “That’s the wrong belt”?

History is written by the winners, and nobody else has read Woz’s book. And Woz is the one who gave that belt to Sougo, and on a freaking velvet pillow at that.

Geiz was saying something about the belt earlier, and Oma Zi-o’s belt is gold and black, like the rest of his armor.

(Oh dear.)

That preview isn’t doing any favors to the outlook of Sougo’s emotional state.

(Oh dear.)

[vanderwood666]

Could you do a lil drabble of Saeyoung comforting his brother after Saeran had a nightmare? Kinda like the v/mc fic but with the twins (PLEASE DONT MAKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP IN IT ANYTHING OTHER THAN PLATONIC. thought i should specify just in case.) you can have it set in the past or whatever cuz its your story but i just thought it would be a sweet bonding moment to cuddle and reassure each other that they’re safe now after all that shit with mint eye went down.

Sure ^^ Also you don’t need to worry about Choicest here. I think I even wrote in one of my first posts that I won’t write about something like this or smut. So here is a safe place if you don’t like those kind of things ^^ here all you will receive it will be a brotherly love (for the twins at least). I hope you will like it ^^

Possible triggers for some people. Violence and hard language. Please keep scrolling if you are easily triggered.

,,Saeyoung, Saeyoung, come here. Look, a butterfly!”

,,Huh? Oh, I see. It’s beautiful, like you, Saeran.”,,How so? Mom says I am ugly…and the butterfly is free to fly whenever it wants…”

,,Then I will help you become one. Let’s fly away from here. You and me. We only need each other. I will find a job and then we can just go whenever we want. Just wait. I will help you become free like that butterfly. I promise…”

Promise…promise…promis…lie…lies…LIES…LIAR!

Tears were falling down on the hacker’s pale skin. His twin, his other half betrayed him. He freed himself and let the other die in that madhouse named home. Now he knew the secret about Saeyoung’s words. Butterflies were free but their life was so short. There were given so much freedom and yet so little time. So his brother wanted him dead…yes…free from that world, from that weak body. He always was the weak one. This is why their mom always picked on him and not on the other.

,,Just wait ,,brother”, I will make you regret the day you abandoned me. I will destroy everything you love the most. No one mess with me and just live its life. Not anymore. I am  not the same.”

The first months at Mint Eye were the worst. Not even in his home was treated so badly; and this was something. He wished for death every single day but his wishes were always ignored. Whenever he thought this was it someone would come and keep him alive then…then the torture continued. It continued until there was nothing left from the old Saeran. Until he disappeared.

Years of torture and abuse surely left him with some traumas. This is why he had so many nightmares. Sometimes the phantoms of the past were following him in the daylight as well.

,,Hell?” the boy laughed. ,,I live in Hell every single fucking day. And what did you save me from? Nothing…I…can’t forgive you.” Even after he was saved from Mint Eye, he could still not forgive his twin for letting him alone. The wounds were still fresh and bleeding.

Saeyoung tried his best to be around his younger twin more and do whatever he wanted…everything but one thing. To kill him. Saeran wanted to end it all, the pain was too much to bear, but Saeyoung couldn’t lose him like this. After all was his little brother and needed to be protected and this time he will do it right. No one will do it, but him.

It wasn’t easy in the condition Saeran was. Night and day the nightmares were haunting him, making him re-live the past over and over again.

The beatings, the insults, the drugs, the cold floor that served him as a bed, the icy water thrown at him to make him stronger. Everything was so fresh in his mind and the body was too tired to resist anymore. He was trembling every single night in the bed, sweat covering his tensed body. ,Why me?…why didn’t she killed me? It hurts…it hurts so much…please stop it…please…’ But the words didn’t came out. His throat was so dry and it was even harder to breath. He was suffocating. Another panic attack.

,,Look at you! You are so weak and pathetic. This is why I never loved you. This is why I tried to kill you. But you are like an annoying bug. You keep living even in the worst conditions. You are a weirdo. A creep. No one will ever love you. I feel ashamed to be you mother. You are a monster not my child!”

,,What is it, my poor, poor child? Did someone hurt you? I am so sad to see you hurt…but you are weak. The weak ones will always suffer. You are different, aren’t you? You just need someone to push you over the limit. I can do it. I can make you stronger. But you need to suffer more. Without suffering there is no paradise, my child. Remember, I hurt you because I love you. Just trust me and everything will end sooner than you think. You will thank me later. I am the only one that truly loves you. Who else would love a weak freak like you? Yes, inside you is a horrible monster that wants blood and revenge. Just give up, let him out.”

The words were echoing in his mind, making him feel sick, dizzy. But this wasn’t the worst thing. Then were the images, the flashbacks. He could feel those long and cold fingers dragging him, touching him; the fists punching him. The stomach pain from food poisoning or from starving for too long. The pain from the drugs, the ones that were forced down his throat. It hurt for days and he wasn’t even allowed to cry. If he cried they would beat him or drug him more. There was the dark room as well. Whenever he refused to do something he would be thrown there, alone, in the darkness for a week or more. It was hard to say for sure. Who would do that? A monster he thought. But wasn’t he one too? After everything he had done, he knew he became the monster that everyone is afraid of. All but one…Saeyoung. Apparently his stupid brother was not afraid. Or so he said. It was still hard to believe it.

,,Leave me alone…please…I just want to be alone…don’t…don’t touch me! Stay away! Please…Saeyou…why you left…? Please…”

….

,,Saeran?” The red haired male couldn’t finish his work for the agency, not before trying to talk with his brother once again. It was late but maybe he was awake. When he reached to the door to knock on it he heard the other male’s words. He sounded like it was in great pain so without any warning he opened the door to see what was happening. The scene in front of him was heartbreaking. Saeran was on the floor, hugging himself, trembling, with tears rolling down his face. ,,Not again…please…” It never was easy to see his little brother in that condition…so small and vulnerable, so broken. This only remembered him how much he disappointed his twin, how he failed him…how the adults betrayed them both.

He hurried and kneed on the floor, gently stroking the hair of his twin. ,,It alright, Saeran. I am here. Saeyoung is here. Your brother is here…I am here…I am here, little brother. I will never leave you alone again. I won’t. I won’t let anyone touch you ever again. Please, please…I am here…” Tears were falling down on his face now, his voice shaking. It was hard to talk and the only thing he knew to say was to reassure the other that he was there this time.

The hacker continued to caress the other’s hair gently and from time to time repeating he was there. This seemed to calm the younger twin after a while, his body starting to relax. Unfortunately the moment didn’t last. When Saeran opened his eyes, he looked up to see who was there. Saeyou…Seven. The hatred was so deep buried inside him that he just couldn’t control himself. Not after having that nightmare again. ,,YOU! YOU TRAITOR! I HATE YOU! YOU LEFT ME! DIE! JUST GO AND DIE! I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!” With tears rolling down its face, he started throw weak punches at the older male. He was weak. He couldn’t eat, sleep or rest at all. He was tired.

Saeyoung was already broken himself, but seeing his brother hating him so much it was destroying him. ,,I am sorry…I know I failed you. You have the right to hate me…but I do love you. You are my sweet little brother and no one can change this. I would give my life for yours. If I could change the past I would do it. I would happily stay with you and find another solution to escape mom. But this time together. But I can’t. I can only try to regain your trust and give you the life I always wanted to. I am lame, a weirdo, stupid, all you might think of. I know it. I deserve all the hatred, but you don’t deserve to suffer anymore. Please…let me help you…” With hesitation at first, he slowly wrapped his arms around the other male’s small body. God, he was so skinny. ,,I am so sorry…” They both were crying so hard; two messes.

After a few minutes of continuous crying, Saeran was the one that talked first. ,,You destroyed my shirt with your tears…and I hope it was only this…” Saeyoung laughed hearing that, still sniffing. ,,I am sorry, I am sorry. I will buy you a new one.”

,,And ice cream…”

,,Huh?”

,,I said ice cream too! What? Are you deaf now too? Stupid and deaf. What a brother.”

,,Hey! You hurt my feelings, brother. Little Seveny is soooooo saddy now.”

,,Can you please stop talking like this…?…nevermind…just leave me alone…”

Seven could only look confuse. He thought Saeran was feeling better but maybe he crossed the line a bit too much.

,,Look, I am really sorry. I thought…well…I thought you might not want to talk about what happened…this is all. You know, I have nightmares too. My worst nightmare is when I lose you. Since I work as a secret agent I am not allowed to have a family or people close to me. So…in that dream the agency finds about you and…send someone to take you away from me. I struggle but without result. I am captured as well and forced to watch as they torture and then…kill you. The worst part is that I pull the trigger. They drug me and I somehow lose the control over my body. Like I am so kind of robot. But I still have all the memories intact and the feelings…yet I can’t control myself. It’s my worst fear…to lose you…”

For a few moments there was only silence until Saeran decide to break it.

,,You will never do it. I know it…you abandoned me but you never did something to me yourself, with your hands. So…I expect to put someone else to do it. Plus, your are so weird that it will take too much time for them to control you. I think they will just give up.”

,,Haha…you are right…” He tried to laugh it off but his laugh was weird. He knew what his twin was trying to do. And it was admirable. ,,Thank you.”

,,For?” The white haired boy raised an eyebrow to the other male in confuse. He sighed tired of more conversation then forced himself to lift up from the ground but his legs didn’t cooperate. His brother caught him before to injure himself. ,,You okay? Here, let me help.” And without waiting for a reply, he just helped him get on the bed. Saeyoung was looking at his brother. He surely was too skinny.

,,I…thank you, but I could have done it by myself. I just needed some time.”

,,I know. My brother is really strong. You grew up into a strong man. I am so happy. But neglecting yourself won’t help. I am sorry…I will go back to work if you don’t like me here…” He tried to go away for Saeran’s sake, but before to be able to do so, the other male grabbed a part of his jacket. ,,Stay…please…” He wasn’t looking into his eyes, but down, at the bed. The red haired male understood and just nodded, taking a sit beside the other. ,,Okay. I will stay.”

Saeran wasn’t used to open up, but for the first time in so long he felt the need of his twin’s presence. Whenever he was there, he felt safe, at peace. He never hated him for real, but hated himself for being so weak, he blamed himself for being abandoned by his half. Now, he knew the truth. This didn’t erased the pain or the past but helped him heal.

,,Why did you told me about your nightmares?…I didn’t asked for…” His voice was so small, like he was scared to talk too loud.

,,Well…to be honest I thought it will help you feel less alone. I know we didn’t went through the same things but I know how it is to suffer because of the past and how it is to not be able to sleep because of the nightmares, how it is to be scared. You are not alone in this, you don’t need to be.”

,,How did you manage to get over your nightmares?” He just ignored what the other said.

,,I…didn’t. I still have them. But what helps me now is your presence. Whenever I feel anxious I come and check on you. If I can see you then I am okay. Before to find you I had a photo of yours smiling. I always had it on my desk and looked at it. It helped me whenever I felt depressed or like giving up. You made me continue going on. You were my reason to live.”

,,Please don’t tell me you love me now. Don’t transform this into a cheap drama.”

,,Hey, I wouldn’t do that, but I do love you. You are my little brother.”

,,Hmph…I don’t love you. I prefer girls.”

,,Meanie…”

,,Weirdo.” After a small pause he continued. ,,I don’t have a reason to go on. It keeps haunting me…every night is the same. Mom…Rika…you…everyone is laughing at me or hurt me. I want to make it stop but I am too weak. I don’t know what to do. I am just an unwanted, weak little boy. I want to make it stop…but you are never there to help me. I am scared…I want to believe you will be here for me but I can’t. I am scared…that you will disappear again. That you will leave me behind again…”

Saeyoung didn’t let his twin finish the sentence and just hugged him tight. ,,I am so sorry I was a brother like that. But I promise that I will always be here from now on. I will never leave you alone again. If mom or Rika comes back I will fight them and not let them touch you. I will come into your dreams and make them run away. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

This time, Saeran returned the hug. It was nice to be hugged so tight. He could feel the warmth of the other. It was calming. ,,Thank you…Saeyoung. Umm…then can I ask you something?”

,,Sure. Whatever you want, little brother.”

,,Don’t call me little…I am an adult now. But…can you stay here tonight? I don’t want to be alone…”

,,Of course. I will stay here. So please, try to rest, you need some sleep.”

,,You too…you worked the whole week…without rest…” He spoke with pause between some words, tired, his eyes barely staying open. But he wasn’t the only one in that situation. Seven wasn’t far away from passing out too.

Breaking the hug, the males made themselves comfortable on the bed. Good that there was enough space for them. Saeran was the first that fell asleep. Saeyoung patted his head and gave him a kiss on the forehead. This was something he would do as a kid. Saeran was so happy back then…they were inseparable. ,,Goodnight, little brother. Don’t worry. I will be right here so no one will come for you tonight. You sleep and I will protect you.” With these being said, he closed his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly. After so many years apart they were sleeping together again, like when they were kids. They were a family again, and this time no one could separate them again.

[thetakenpokemon]

Act 3 - Chimera

[PoV: Dr. Benj????]

...

...

...

A dreamless, deep sleep.

...

I feel nothing.

Yet at the same time, I feel everything.

...

Project Chimera.

One of the many experiments that the HWDP wished to conduct. Although numerous kinds of Pokemon hybrids were made, there is one hybrid that they desired even more to create.

A hybrid of that of a Pokemon and a Human.

Yet...how could it be done?

The only reason why hybrids of Pokemon who are not even in the same egg group are even possible to make is that all Pokemon have that origin, that one entity that they all came from.

This entity is Mew.

Although they can no longer breed with each other, their DNA still have that source. Because of this, it’s possible to create such unique hybrids as long as we carefully direct it. The use of Ditto genes also make this possible, by injecting it into a host to make their cells more compliant to mutation when we inject the DNA of other species.

Nevertheless, this is not the same for Humans. Mew did not create us for we evolved through our own path, so we don’t share this origin with that of Pokemon. So does this make it impossible for a hybrid of a Pokemon and Human to exist?

The answer...is no.

There is one Pokemon that exists, and that is Deoxys. Deoxys is the DNA Pokemon, the Virus Pokemon. Its cells are highly unstable, yet also far more cooperative with that of other tissue.

The main goal was to inject a combination of Ditto and Deoxys cells into a Human host and guide its transformation, to create the first Human/Pokemon hybrid.

Yet there were two issues. One of which is that we had no idea how the test would turn out due to the unpredictability of the Deoxys cells, the other problem is that we had no Human willing to be a test subject for this likely dangerous experiment.

So...they went with an unwilling, expendable human instead.

Me.

...

...

...

Even though I’m technically unconscious, at the same time I’m also aware enough to properly know what is happening to me.

I’m inside one of the numerous Development Tanks, a gigantic canister whose purpose is to develop hybrids. The canister is filled with Perfluorocarbon, an oxygen-rich liquid that can be breathed just like air. The reason for this liquid being chosen is because it’s also a means of providing nutrients to the subject, specifically as they breath in the Perfluorocarbon.

Lining the walls of these giant tanks are mechanical arms for operating on the subject. Most of them consist of the Injection Arms, long robotic limbs ending in large needles capable of penetrating even bone. Not only are the purpose of these needles being to inject DNA into all regions of the body, but they also possess blood-clotting agents in order to prevent the subject from bleeding.

The subject is also given a powerful sedative anesthetic before the procedure in order to prevent them from struggling and possibly damaging themselves or their environment during their development. The company who developed the sedative gave it the trade name of ‘Zenital’, and it’s considered an incredibly efficient sedative due to how powerful it is and how little danger it poses to the body. Usually the subjects are sedated through injection with that of a different sedative, once they’re secured within the Development Tank we then infuse the Perfluorocarbon with steady streams Zenital vapors in order to render the subject in a controlled unconsciousness as they develop.

...

...

I...don’t know how long I’ve been ‘asleep’.

Days? Weeks? Months?

...Years?

...

Even when unconscious, I could feel my body change.

The Deoxys cells latched to the cells of my body and immediately began to change me, for the Ditto cells sent them into a frenzy. They grabbed everything they could find and began converting it, changing it into Deoxys cells like them.

Essentially, the cells were assimilating me from the inside out...transforming me into a Deoxys.

...

It is terrifying, the fact that your body is being destroyed and replaced with something different...piece by piece. Yet I can’t do anything, instead rendered helpless as I feel my own flesh change with each passing second.

It...has been going on for a long time. The cells destroyed my organs, yet then developed the crystal core that Deoxys possess. The heart of the Deoxys’ life and power, the sole thing that allows them to survive. The cells destroyed everything inside me, then it replaced it with a new method of survival.

Yet it didn’t stop there, for it began changing other parts of my body. Changed the skin, removed all of my hair and nails, and much...much more.

...

...

Eventually...I wasn’t even Human anymore.

Even though at one point the cells eventually stopped converting me, I doubt that I'm even part human when it finished.

Yet even though my body is now mostly Deoxys, at the same time it also possesses underlying traits that isn’t like that of a Deoxys. These traits belong to a Human, yet...at the same time it doesn’t.

I’m both a hybrid and not, a combination of Human and Deoxys as well as possibly being my own entity.

I...didn’t know what to think of it.

And I don’t know what my captors think of me either, which makes me feel even more afraid. Is my transformation considered a failure? Will they dispose of me due to not resulting in what they wished?

...

My conscious...it stirs...

...

...

...

My eyes slowly open, the changed orbs peering at my surrounding for the first time.

Everything is dark, for there is no lights within the Development Tank. Yet the alien eyes of mine are capable of forming a faint picture of my environment, it’s not complete night-vision...but it’s good enough that it gives me an idea of what my surroundings are.

I’m suspended in the center of a metal tank, several closed pods are located on the walls that house the inactive robotic arms. Attached to my head is a small pair of mechanical limbs, their purpose being to lightly keep me in place so that my body doesn’t drift around the tank.

I reach over to the hands with my own limbs and pry them off with little effort, yet at the same time the action feels so alien due to how...different my body is.

It suddenly occurs to me, the fact that I’m not...breathing.

I place one of my strange hands on my face and to my shock I discover that I lack a nose and mouth. The place where a pair of lips should be is smooth skin, while my nose is only a faint bump that gives the impression of something that used to be there.

However despite me not breathing, I seem to be doing just...fine.

How...much have I truly changed?

The container suddenly vibrates for a brief moment as a muffled rumble is heard outside of the canister, although the walls keep me properly insulated...I still barely managed to hear and feel it.

...

Is something going on?

I turn my gaze to one of the numerous cameras inside the tank, their lenses focused on my body. I feel that I should be worried due to them observing me, for they could do anything to me while I’m inside.

Well...almost anything.

Another thought occurs to me.

How am I conscious? The Zenital should be keeping me unconscious, did they cease providing it into the Perfluorocarbon?

...

Oh...yeah, I’m not breathing. Because of this the sedative anesthesia has no way of affecting me, which is why I’ve awakened.

Another shake jostles the gigantic container I’m in, making me look at the walls again with growing confusion.

What’s going on out there?!

The size and weight of the Development Tanks are nothing to underestimate, especially when filled to the brim with Perfluorocarbon. So if something is making the thing jostle for an extremely tiny moment, then it must be very intense...

I’m floating in the center of the tank, my curiosity outgrowing my fear. Whatever is going on outside of this thing, it must be very...very big.

I...want to find out what’s going on.

No...I need to find out.

The purple crystal in my chest suddenly glows, illuminating my surroundings. This startles me, my head looking down at my chest with surprise.

I feel...power radiating from it, radiating from me.

My desire to get out of here and discover the unknown, it’s fueling it.

My will and thoughts are fueling my power.

I feel the energy of the crystal collecting to one of my arms, making said appendage glow with a purple sheen. This power seems to flow like an electric current, flowing to my arm and then back to the crystal.

This power, it’s inside me.

But now...I want it...

OUT.

The energy explodes out of my hand, striking the wall of the Development Tank in front of me. The heavy metal quickly caves in, for although it’s designed to withstand physical trauma...it wasn’t built for raw energy.

With a giant hole punched straight through the liquid immediately starts gushing out, alarms blare outside the machine to notify of the compromised subject.

As the liquid continues to flow out I feel my body tense, prepared to meet gunfire by the guards that should be stationed nearby. Yet...nothing comes from it, nothing at all.

Hesitantly I step out of my makeshift exit, my legs shaky after being used for the first time in who knows how long. Several times they nearly gave out from under me, but I managed to keep myself up as I fully step out.

Although most Development Tanks are located near each other in gigantic labs, this lab I’m in is more secluded due to it only having one tank. In it are several computers and machinery whose entire purpose is to monitor me, yet...not a single living soul is nearby.

The place is empty. Not a single scientist, guard, or even a simple employee is in sight.

But then I heard the sounds.

The sounds of chaos.

My gaze turns to the automated door of the room, I can hear shouts and even gunfire from the other side of it.

With my curiosity overpowering my common sense I approach the door, my body still partially soaked with Perfluorocarbon as it drips down my form and leaves footprints whenever I walk.

Eventually I reach said door, the sounds having grown even louder now. On the ground I notice an ID, something that one of the HWDP members probably dropped in some hurry.

Nevertheless, it’s mine now.

I pick up the card and swipe it on the scanner, it took only a brief moment for it to approve my access and open the automatic doors.

And beyond it...is absolute mayhem.

The place is under attack.

The intruders are Pokemon, garbed in dark blue garments. Their efforts are only partially coordinated, however they seem to be holding themselves very well against the extremely well-armed guards of the HWDP.

I don’t know who these Pokemon are...

...but I have the strong feeling that they’re here to liberate their brethren.

I watch the carnage unfold, both Humans and Pokemon dying.

...

I clench my fists, the crystal in my chest glowing as its power circulates inside my body.

I made a promise to that Gardevoir hybrid, a promise that turned my own people against me.

A promise that had them turn me into a hybrid against my own will, thus destroying my very identity.

A promised her that I would make things right.

Now...with my new body, I have the power to act on this promise.

[sparkyeureka-blog]

an emotional rant about chuck hansen

because I really need to organize all my tears but every time I try to say any of this to a real person I feel like an idiot, so: 

it should first be noted that chuck is an asshole and I sincerely wish someone would punch him directly in the face (thanks raleigh)

but also immediately after give him a hug and tell him it’s okay to be nice to people and maybe kiss his forehead a lil

because I feel like I’m making excuses when I think this but honestly this kid is So Young

I know he’s an adult and all, and I’m not saying he doesn’t have to take responsibility for his actions, but twenty-one is still young enough to be learning

and he spent more time with machines than with his father (the person who’s supposed to teach him to not do, you know, all the things he does) since he was eleven years old

(in the deleted scene he points this out angrily, tears in his eyes, and in the novelization he says it like it’s normal while fondly tapping striker, and I honestly can’t decide which version of this is sadder)

and how can herc expect him to be a good person, “a better person,” when chuck hardly even considers himself all that personlike? herc asks him who he is and the best answer he can come up with is that he’s a ranger, the person who’s going to deliver the bomb into the breach, so much of his identity is tied up in this one thing he does that he can’t even really understand the question

this one thing that he is, admittedly, pretty much the best at, being the youngest ranger ever and having killed a record number of kaiju and all

and a thing that he notably does not seem like he’s doing for fame or glory or anything like that, even though his arrogance suggests he might. every time we see him in a jaeger his focus is on the mission, saving people--when he wants to go into that battle with leatherback and otachi, he wants to do it because he can’t just “sit around and watch them die,” he doesn’t talk about needing to come in and save the day like you might expect him to, he just tells cherno alpha to hold on, they’re coming. to help.

in other words chuck hansen has a really big heart and absolutely no idea what to do with it

outside of a battle, that is, because in battle he can yell out dorky things about their power move and show a little concern for his dad when he’s hurt (and of course he teases him while he does it and herc shoves him off) and enthusiastically cheer on gipsy danger, what, a day after fighting with her pilots? the fight being yet another symptom of this whole big heart thing, really

because chuck is sensitive as hell, his temper proves that, and in another life he’s probably an artist or something but in this one anger is about the only feeling he allows himself to have

because it’s been said he didn’t allow for any distractions, no real social life, no real relationships (not even gonna talk about the very real possibility that this kid died a virgin, which is a shame because in the novelization raleigh literally describes him as “eager to prove himself” and imagine the possibilities)

(although the part where he adds that chuck’s eager to prove himself “even to people who didn’t care” just makes it sad, and sometimes I’d really like someone to punch herc in the face too)

but then there’s herc! who chuck spends a decent amount of time devaluing, at first, saying things like “he’s more my co-pilot” and calling it “my bomb run”

and maybe it’s wishful thinking but imo this is mostly because herc is more important to him than anything else and the best way he has to cope with this (because that’s a scary thing and makes him feel way too vulnerable and maybe a little embarrassed, especially with how broken their relationship is) is acting like he’s not important at all, not in general and definitely not to the mission (basically a suicide run, and it’s easier to claim that as his own than associate it with his father)

the way he disrespects raleigh is just a dick move, of course, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t understand his reasoning--everyone there knows the jaegers are the only chance they have, and the program was in large part shut down because of how many jaegers they were losing because the pilots got themselves destroyed along with the kaiju 

and only an asshole says that to a guy who lost his brother doing that very thing, but raleigh called a job done before it was and look at the consequences and can you blame a guy for doubting him on a mission this big

especially when the inevitable trauma from all that can only mean it’s going to be harder for him this time around

it’s probably fair to say jealousy might have something to do with it too, given the look on chuck’s face when herc tells him to have some respect

anyway, moving on, or jumping backwards a little to the battle with leatherback and otachi again, it’s worth noting that there’s no doubt chuck is as hotheaded as they come, but well, he’s his father’s son, and it seems like herc may actually be the more reckless of the two

he’s the one pushing to join the fight first. when striker goes down, he’s the one who disengages first maybe without considering the potential consequences (or just deciding they don’t matter, which, come on), and yeah maybe that had to happen for Plot Reasons, but chuck didn’t have to know better and yell for him not to

(it goes without saying that herc is also the one who thought that somehow they’d be doing better by a city of millions of people if they climbed on top of their unconscious robot and shot little flare guns at the giant monster and got themselves killed, as opposed to getting out of there, which would have about the same effect--that effect being relatively nothing)

(and of course chuck listened to that logic and decided yeah, that checks out, sounds good)

moving on again, and here’s where I start to cry, this final sequence where chuck just casually goes to his death

first of all, there’s something to be said for a guy who can hear that he’s “an egotistical jerk with daddy issues” and then decide that sure, works for him, he has no problem letting the man who thinks this of him inside his head

probably to die together at the bottom of the ocean

chuck hansen is a lot of things and “self-aware” is probably one of them

(in some ways, at least, definitely not others, but I digress)

the look on his face when he’s talking to herc in this moment is?? so different than he’s looked at any point in the rest of the movie? so open, and he is, this is important, when he says don’t, he’s not shutting herc down from saying these things out loud because of some kind of Manly(TM) allergy to emotion

it’s because he knows and he wants his dad to know that he knows, that he knows without him needing to say it out loud now

and saying it like that, that he’s always known, despite the way they act toward each other

(keyword, too, being always, not just since they started drifting together, but always)

like I’m not giving chuck too much credit here but in hansen-speak that’s almost like an apology

and then of course there’s max, and max’s presence speaks for itself and this is so obvious it hurts but this boy! loves his dog! 

this arrogant walking advertisement for daddy issues and failed anger management has it in him to crouch down in front of his dog and call him handsome and say he’s going to miss him while he’s heading off to what’s probably going to be his death--like, what does he mean? does he mean he’s going to miss him for the relatively short duration of this mission before he either dies or gets back? does he believe in some kind of afterlife where he thinks one of the prominent features of existence will be missing his still-living dog?

(and the last thing he says to his father is to take care of said dog, and all of this is so much more painful when you take into account that quote about herc and chuck doing most of their communicating via dog and giving max all the love they can’t give to each other)

for some reason the biggest thing that bothers me about the novelization is that when they realize striker can’t deliver the payload, chuck’s line is changed to “we can’t do anything,” when in the movie what he said was “what can we do, sir?”

and that is just such an enormous difference that I can’t stop thinking about it and had to include it here, because chuck doesn’t give up, he doesn’t consider their mission a failure because it’s not going how they planned it, he adapts and says okay, if it’s like this now, how can I help 

and the helping is another important thing, goes along with the earlier point about not looking for glory

that for all chuck’s talk about “I’m the guy who’s gonna deliver this bomb,” all of that shit about it being his bomb run, he does not for a second complain about the change of plans, that he won’t be the one

chuck is prepared to die to save the world

and he’s equally prepared to die just to make the assist, to blow himself up just on the hope of clearing a path for mako and raleigh to save the world instead

he’s so prepared he’s the one who starts arming the bomb even before stacker lifts a hand

this is getting way too long but before it’s over it’s time to talk about his last words

first, echoing something his father’s always said--if you have the shot, you take it--there’s so many levels to that, and the first one my mind always jumps to is that he’s reassuring himself

because sure he’s prepared for this, but that doesn’t mean it’s not scary, and what better comfort than something that says this is what dad would do, this is the right thing, he’d approve of this

the second is that he’s reassuring herc

it’s for herc to hear, that he knows what he’s doing, that he’s made his choice, that he’s his father’s son

(it’s something of a cold comfort for both of them, when the last thing stacker hears from his daughter is that she loves him and the last thing chuck hears from his father is silence)

and then there’s “it was a pleasure, sir”

something that always strikes me, because I always expect him to say honor

something along those lines

but no

it’s a pleasure

that’s some word choice there

all this is basically to say that chuck hansen was capable of a lot, things that no one would expect from him like openness and kindness and caring and maybe the maturity to actually show it all one day, but somehow despite all the crazy amazing shit he did do, he never actually realized his full potential

or, as this line in this really awesome fic says, "you can fight and kill kaiju, chuck, but when it comes to people, you're still eleven years old”

because he was too busy fighting a war to grow the fuck up before he ran out of time to do it

did I mention he was twenty-one years old

[jakelace]

2017 IN FILM - PART 5 (40-31)

40. Happy Death Day

“So I’m supposed to keep dying until I figure out who my killer is?”

Happy Death Day’s most unforgivable sin is that it doesn’t use 50 Cent’s ‘In Da Club’ even though it was prominently featured in the trailer. That’s a joke, really…mostly. But it does speak to my enjoyment of the film that that is one of the few complaints I have with it, with my others being that it is fairly predictable and doesn’t have a satisfying ending. Outside of that though, this slasher romp is an entertaining twist on the Groundhog’s Day formula. Much like with 2014′s Live. Die. Repeat. the addition of this plot thread mixed with another genre left me with a refreshed feeling. While its central idea isn’t very original, its send-up of genre tropes and cliches while also making a vaguely compelling story of its own is pretty admirable. The icing on the proverbial birthday cake though is Jessica Rothe’s performance as our lead. Rothe believably sells the amount of trauma dying brutally every single day would have on a person. I just wish all slasher films had the sense of fun this one does…get it? Wish? Like a candle on a birthday cake? Never mind.

39. Atomic Blonde

“You know those movies where the picture just starts to slow down and melt…then catch fire? Well, that’s Berlin.”

Atomic Blonde’s story is pretty dumb. I don’t know why I’m starting today’s mini-reviews with all the things I didn’t like about a film, but here we are. Yes, Atomic Blonde’s story is not only the aforementioned dumb, but it also is told in such a disorienting and nonsensical way that if this were any other film, I probably would have tuned out pretty quickly. But this isn’t any other film, this is Atomic Blonde we’re talking about here. The story itself is nothing more than a vessel used to carry us between action sequences where Charlize Theron beats dudes senseless and is also just an all-around badass. If that’s what you’re looking for, then I’m certain you won’t be disappointed. It also helps to have David Leitch in the director’s chair though. Leitch has such a sublime eye for action set pieces and every moment is carefully shot with as few cuts as possible, which is so needed in the modern action film landscape. I left this viewing with a newfound confidence in Deadpool 2′s quality and a need to see more from Theron in this role.

38. It Comes at Night

“You can’t trust anyone but family.”

I wrote at length about my feelings on this film in a review that you can read here, and my thoughts haven’t really changed, so I’ll keep my this mini-review extra mini. While at times it can seem like a retread of other recent horror films, It Comes at Night offers a well crafted look at anxiety and paranoia. I still can’t think about that long hallway shot without getting chills. Yikes.

37. Better Watch Out

“What delusional infant thinks a break-in is going to get you to second base?”

I don’t want to talk about Better Watch Out. Not because I didn’t enjoy it, I did quite a bit. I don’t want to talk about it because its very existence and my enjoyment hinges on knowing as little as possible going into it. Now, that being said, I’ll do my best to describe what I liked about it without giving anything away. What originally intrigued me about Better Watch Out is that it was a twist on the tried and true home invasion sub-genre of film. In this regard, the film knocks it out of the park. Chris Peckover’s holiday themed horror-comedy blends its genres so well while also paying homage to home invasion films that came before it that its honestly pretty impressive, and its take-down of toxic masculinity didn’t go unnoticed by me either. Unfortunately the only thing keeping this from being an instant recommend are the opening twenty minutes which are painfully bland.  

36. Mr. Roosevelt

“Eric is taking a break from music right now. He’s getting his real estate license.”

“I love houses.”

There is something about films like Grosse Pointe Blank where the main character returns home after years of being away that really gets me. Mr. Roosevelt, Noël Wells’ directing and writing debut, is no different. The story follows Emily (also played by Wells) who returns to her ex-boyfriend’s home when she gets news that the cat that they had bought together has become sick. Wells’ performance here is what instantly endeared me to her character and the film overall. I know that when I say this I’m definitely going to sound like a #millennial (I hate myself for typing this), but Emily’s struggle to find where her life is going while also balancing the influence of where she came from spoke to me and impacted me more than it probably should have. Also, let me just say that the idea to shoot this on 16mm made this look way more gorgeous than it has any right to be.

35. Spider-Man: Homecoming

“Don’t mess with me. Because I will kill you, and everybody you love.”

Spider-Man. Spider-Man. He’s in the MCU and that’s pretty grand. He can joke. Also kinda flies. Too bad the action hurts my eyes. Look out! Here comes Tom Holland as the best Spider-Maaaaan.

If you didn’t read that in the tune of the 1960′s Spider-Man Theme, then you should get on that. And if you want to read my original review on Spider-Man: Homecoming you can do so here. 

34. The LEGO Batman Movie

“My name’s Richard Grayson, but all the kids at the orphanage call me Dick.”

“Well, children can be cruel.”

Nanananananananananananana Batmaaaan…alright, sorry, I’ll stop. Who would have guessed that the best iteration of the Caped Crusader in years would come in an adorable LEGO form? The LEGO Batman movie is everything Ninjago wishes it could be. It perfectly embraces the history of the character while also providing a brand new story all its own. Will Arnett reprises his role as Batman from the original LEGO movie and does so with just as much comedic timing and laugh-out-loud moments, but the voice talent who steals the show here is Michael Cera as Robin. Cera’s interpretation of Robin as a doe-eyed orphan who finds inexplicable joy in everything stands to be my favorite adaptation of the classic character yet. However, the true hero here is director Chris McKay who uses all of his prior knowledge from Robot Chicken to side-splitting effect. The zany and fast-paced comedy that McKay is so obviously well-versed in fits perfectly with a child friendly tone without losing its punch. Here’s hoping that the rest of the inevitable LEGO movies can have as much hilarity and heart as this one.

33. Free Fire

“Hey, I like your cardboard armor.”

“It’s protection from infection.”

If you told me a year ago that a movie all about a bunch of idiotic criminals having a shoot-out in an abandoned warehouse would be as funny as this is…I probably would have believed you, that just sounds amazing. And while the end product is less than amazing, Free Fire still manages to be some of the most fun I had at a theater in 2017. It takes a while for it to get there, but once it really ramps up, every line spoken, every scream released, and every stray bullet fired got a big laugh out of me. If that isn’t enough to sell you, then maybe the fantastic cast including Brie Larson and Cillian Murphy will. And hey, if you watch this at home you won’t even have to deal with an elderly couple talking really loudly in front of you before they were ejected for stealing a collectable popcorn bucket from the front of the theater. That happened.

32. My Life as a Zucchini

“Your mum is no longer here, Icare.”

My Life as a Zucchini, also known as Heartbreak: The Movie, does what so few children’s films have the guts to do. It teaches real world issues like death and abuse in a way that is easy for kids to understand and yet not over overly graphic. There is a specific scene where Zucchini is told each child in the orphanage’s backstory and if you aren’t welling up with tears by the end of that, then I’m pretty certain you have no soul. In its entire 70 minute runtime I never felt as though the filmmakers were talking down to the audience and because of that I was able to become fully engrossed in the world and characters that were being presented to me in adorable, claymation form. The voice actors are great, the story is heart-breaking and funny, and let’s all be honest with ourselves, this should have won Best Animated Feature over Zootopia at the Oscars last year.

31. Logan Lucky

“Is it twenty or is it thirty? We are dealing with science here!”

After my initial viewing of Logan Lucky’s trailer, I was pretty certain this film was going to be trash. Thankfully enough, Steven Soderbergh’s first heist movie since Ocean’s 13 turned out pretty well. While there are certainly problems, particularly with Seth McFarlane’s bafflingly horrible performance and a strangely paced third act that shoehorns Hilary Swank into the picture, Logan Lucky is still great fun in spite of them. The film works, in part, due to some really great comedic turns from stellar actors like Adam Driver and Daniel Craig who can make just about any line funny. But it wouldn’t be a heist movie without…well…a heist, and writer Rebecca Blunt delivers on that front with heist that is equal parts intelligent (well, as intelligent as some of these characters can get) and thrilling. And while this isn’t my favorite movie heist of 2017, there is something to be said for how unbelievably satisfying it is watching it all get pulled off, and that’s really all you can ask for.

That’s all for today, but join me tomorrow as I discuss four superhero films, three period pieces, two supernatural Criterion films, and one touching love story.