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ignitification · 4 years

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LoV Colour Analysis Part I: Shigaraki Tomura.

As this analysis would be quite too long to read in one go, I decided to split it into three parts, each covering one of the Three Main Villains of BNHA (Shigaraki Tomura, Himiko Toga and Dabi).

All three do denote a precise and powerful colour scheme, but on today’s episode I am going to focus on the Leader of the League of Villains aka Shigaraki Tomura or Shimura Tenko.

Shigaraki’s colour pattern variates from Red (shoes and eyes), Black (his usual outfits, his hair when younger) to Light Blue, Grey and White (colour of his hair, skin and hands).

The interesting fact is how Shimura’s colour evolve with his persona and Quirk. The third paragraph is dedicated to the colour Yellow, which is not part of the palette associated with Tenko, but I included it because it adds to the detailing of Shigaraki’s character.

(Spoilers ahead! & tw/: mentions of canon-compliant violence; death)

I.) From Black to Light Blue to White

During his growth, evolution as a villain and person, not considering the one spurred from his Quirk, Tenko’s hair undergo a quite big development. While the colour of his clothes stays more or less stable (being black throughout the entire series), what differentiates his eras is the colour of his hair. In his childhood, before manifesting his Quirk, Tomura’s hair was dark (strikingly similar to the one both Touya and Izuku sported). This changed to light blue/grey in his years until last arc, where after being himself an experiment under the hands of Doctor Death (Kyudai Garaki is a very creepy man) to inherit the original AfO’s Quirk, his hair becomes snow white (as a result of the transformation, I would believe - but it might as well mean another thing which I will talk about later).

Beginning with maybe the easiest association: the colour black.

A little note of the fear association: in this case, I would like to interpret it as Shigaraki being aware of his decaying Quirk and freak people out because of that, and because of his external looks, which do look like the one of a decaying child.

Power refers definitely to both his position and his Quirk, in this case - which make him stand out even more. However, the strength in this case, in my opinion, is more a smoke screen: black is also worn as a protection from external damage, as in stress and emotional backlash. This creates a barrier between the subject and the world, protecting internal emotions, and hiding its vulnerabilities, insecurities and lack of self confidence. The emotional trauma, the ‘hands shield’ Shigaraki derived, in a way, from his trauma and from being confronted with something, has shaken him to the core since childhood, and in this case the clothes serve to protect him from himself and his ‘actions’. In this aspect, him wearing black as a child might also stand for him trying to shield himself away from his parent’s judgement and stare, while protecting his will to want to be a hero, despite their negative reaction to any hint of that. These meaning are, in conclusion a full circle: one calls for the other, especially in Shigaraki’s case.

Black is also associated with mystery, evil and aggression. Shigaraki is written as an enigmatic villain, cold-hearted, devoid of any humanity and the will to full front destroy everything in its path. And while the meaning perfectly fit to how Shigaraki should be, I do believe that this is a very superficial and banal description of such a complex character.

One thing which I found particularly interesting about this colour and its relation to Shigaraki, it’s the rocky tie that appears between black and its meaning as in rebellion. This aspect might refer to two different conditions: it might suppose a certain degree of refusal and hate for authority (The society at large), and at the same time the rebellion from his own family/persona/mentor, which could entail a fundamental foreshadow for Tenko’s destiny.

The color black affects the mind and body by producing feelings of emptiness, gloom, or sadness.

I think here again, this might just an extermination of the feeling that have been torturing Shigaraki from the inside since he was a child, and that he himself has not acknowledged, which also stands to explain how he tries to feel that void or to ‘eliminate the scratch’ that has been tormenting him, and that knows no peace.

Furthermore, In Japanese culture, the colour black mainly denotes non-being (apart from mourning) and evil-heartedness in a person. This meaning is consistent with the personality described to us by Horikoshi: Shigaraki Tomura ceases to be a person at one point, when his consciousness gets subdued by AfO for a while. It is important to note here, how White (on the other side of the spectrum) is also the colour of death and mourning.

Not entirely worth mentioning, is that black is the stereotypical colour worn by villains and bad guys in different fictional environments.

(Light) Blue/Grey.

Just a reminder: neither grey nor blue are explicit colour in Tenko’s palette as a character, but I think they are still important and since greyish blue (the precise colour oh his hair) has not its own meaning, I took the freedom to actually associate the two separate colour in association to describe this period of transition between black and white.

The phase in which Tomura has Greyish-Blue hair is the longest one (in terms of years), but also the phase of passage (which consequently is the phase he is exploring, and is in the ‘grey zone’, where things are just getting defined and there are no absolutes). Grey, in this sense, sports both characteristics from White and Black (depending on the shade used), and even if not explicitly used for Tenko, it still represents a landmine in his development.

The colour grey is an ‘unemotional’ colour. It is detached, neutral, impartial and indecisive - all traits that can be reconnected at Shigaraki. Indeed, it is after his encounter with Izuku at the mall where he recognises why exactly (or so he thinks) he rages and wants to bring destruction to the world as known. This indicates how he has been striving for a real purpose, like the one Stain has, in order to actually understand what he is doing and evolve from the child the Heroes define him as, to a Villain with the capital V. He does relate to reality in partial ways, while he tries to define his identity as something that has died inside of him, Shimura Tenko, and at the same time the part that has lived on through the memories he removed and the hands which accompany him. He does not know which part is stronger, and trying to figure it out he tries and fails, only to try again. To confirm the shaping of Shigaraki, indeed grey is a conforming colour and most of all it struggles with identity, which is arguably the most prominent trait Shigaraki presents during the first arcs of the story.

On the other hand, Blue symbolises coolness, passivity, fidelity. Somehow it reverberates the meaning of grey, while at the same time enhancing its other effects (it being emotionless and calm, undecided but also flowing). Blue is also indicator of depth, wisdom, confidence, and intelligence (among others). This also confirms the precedent meanings (of especially white) and it adds another dimension to Tenko’s character. It is clear how he feels deeply, and is still very clever in its own way. Still, this development and phase serves for him to obtain the other characteristics proposed by blue, especially wisdom and confidence (refer to Black where I said how sometimes the clothes are a screen to hide his true feelings).

Blue is a colour that’s constant and unchanging, which contrasts with grey and brings forwconstant struggle in Tenko. Blue is also nostalgic. Curious is how blue lives in the past, relating everything in the present and the future to experiences in the past. I think that this is what blue is about with Tenko: he struggles to look forward, to forgive and let go because he never forgot his dad, his grandma or even society for when they had brought upon him as an innocent child. His bringing up has been focused, after all, on his developing his constant feeling of sadness, rage and gloom and the necessary power to express them in confident ways, which could bring destruction forward. Tenko is a puppet in AfO’s hands since he has ‘saved’ him, so I think this is why the sentence in which Shigaraki tries to break free from AfO’s will is a break point for the story, and for Shigaraki as well.

Blue is also known for being deceitful and spiteful, depressed and sad, passive, self-righteous, emotionally unstable, weak, unforgiving. It can also indicate manipulation, unfaithfulness and being untrustworthy.

Indeed, it is after that Izuku sees Tenko being kneeled over by AfO and his presence that he understands that Shigaraki too, is human and that maybe the reasons for his rage and absolute hate for everything he comes across have deep roots, which is why even if he cannot forgive him for all the pain he has brought, he wants to save him.

Finally, the paler the blue the more freedom we feel - which brings me to my theory on what, throughout the years Tenko’s hair have been ‘decaying’ and bleaching out. I think that as a child, Tenko is caged and tries to break free of his cage, of his ‘itch’ but he cannot because he does not realise what it is, and there is no freedom for him to actually understand. The first time he uses his Quirk, he feels finally satisfied for the first time. He tasted freedom for the first time, and now he wants to do it again and again. Growing up, however his ideals become blurry and he does not understand what he actually wants. He does know that the hands on his body represent what he has lost and what is actually still there with him, giving him strength and will, but at the same time he does not know what is beyond there. Which is why, after he goes through the transformation by Garaki, his hair becomes white: he gets rid of the insecurities, of the shackles that have stopped him from actually achieving his goal, or rather to pursue it freely. His ultimate goal, after all, is to get rid of his ‘itch’, which, in its own way, it’s his language to say that Shimura Tenko wants freedom.

As a note, Blue is also the colour of the Throat chakra. It is located in the throat, but it is linked to the throat, neck, hands, and arms. This Chakra is linked to speech.

Final remark on blue: this colour is one of the most important lucky colors in Japan ( together with yellow, white, purple, green and, red) - and all the colour associated with Tomura, except for black, is indeed considered lucky.

White

White, is an inherently positive colour, is usually associated with purity, innocence, light, goodness, beginnings, possibility and perfection. However it is also described an dperceived as cold, impersonal and bland. Shigaraki after his ‘transformation’ is the perfect soldier: he is very powerful, to a fault, and represents a new chapter in not only his own life but as well in the one which has been conducted by AfO, as he sees him as his vessel. The fact is that the beginning of a new Shigaraki which is flawless, in appearance, is a very well constructed lie. While he should represent perfection, first of all his transformation has not been entirely completed and furthermore, while it does represent a clean slate in his check, is also the possibility, reality coming through for AfO to take advantage of the body new, which Tomura must preserve. As the new Shigaraki however, has his ideals very present and wants to fight for them, to protect his feelings and his ideas, it is anyway a struggle for both him and AfO to juggle through everything going on Tenko’s mind, and emerge victorious. This is also the most interesting aspect of this colour: the goodness and inherent purity which comes from this colour implies a purification process in Shigaraki’s character, who instead gets fixed even more on him not wanting to forgive society and insisting on going on his rampage, because at the same time he cannot let go of these feelings, because now they are the only thing which make him go forward.

White is usually used in contrast to black, and represents the dichotomy of good and bad.

The psychological meaning of white is wholeness and completion. This also refers to the meaning and falls into the category of ‘perfection’: it is a new beginning, but at the same time it represents the closure of a cycle and the beginning of a new one: a perfect one, which represents closure (‘The Circle’). Tomura is supposed to be the new complete weapon at AfO’s will, but as I states before this is a fought point (between the two of them).

White, in cultures that believe in reincarnation is held in high regard. Indeed, they sustain how white is a sign of rebirth.

Technically, Shigaraki has been reborn. What I mean is that he has transformed himself into not a new person, but in a better version of himself, he upgraded - and now of course going back is not an option. He has been held in a womb, breeding his new potential and now he became an individual whose strength far surpasses normal, his quirk control is absolutely insane and as well his memories, ideas and feelings are heightened. The theme of rebirth, which I think fits both Shigaraki and Dabi, is used a few times in BNHA, but as for Shigaraki it is very literal and very clear (after all he has been asleep for a time, just to wake up and fight an entire war against the Heroes). It is clear however, how his personality has been rebirth too: while he was not insecure, but more hesitant, now he is sure of his objective and he thrives on achieving it. What distinguishes therefore the old Shigaraki from this new one is the knowledge of being powerful and therefore being able to accomplish what we wants.

Finally, white inherently denotes death and mourning too in the Japanese culture, as well as black. Here, we are mourning the old Shigaraki, and the loss of the traits that instead made him a little bit more human, and a little less like God himself.

II.) From Red Eyes to Red Shoes (in association with both Izuku and Katsuki)

I already talked about the colour red in regard to Izuku here, but if we take the same meaning and apply it to Tomura instead, we get a different picture. It is no mystery how Izuku and Tenko are foils for each other, and that they resemble each other in different ways (starting from them sporting red shoes, to their characters, being ‘accepted’ and trained by a mentor, and so on).

Red is the colour of extremes. It appears clear how Izuku and Tenko represent the opposite extremes: where Izuku is enamoured of heroes and idolised them to an unhealthy point, even though he comes from a background where he has been discriminated by that same society because he was different, Tenko is disillusioned with the society they live in. He wants to destroy to the ground, because he cannot find it in himself to forgive anyone who could and did not extend him a hand when he needed it. At the same time, both Izuku and Tenko believe that to a certain extent what they had done has been ‘deserved’, and are not entirely focused on their own well being.

Red is also an attention-bringer. As I already noticed for Izuku, it is very curious how both wear red shoes, as a way to try and separate themselves from the rest, trying to escape the opinions of other which have labelled them in a way, and of course at the same time trying to take control and wanting to be the best in their own ways (hero or villain, that is).

Red is also the colour of blood, of rage, anger as well as desire, leadership and strength. I want to make a point which I do not know whether is important or not, however, a fact that struck me hard is how Shigaraki’s irises are very very small, and it somehow seems that he tries to compensate the little quantity of red of Shigaraki with wearing red shoes. This might be an indicator how Shigaraki strives to achieve these qualities, but at the same time he needs to put a lot of effort in it, and furthermore it somehow feels different from when we compare it to Izuku: even if both are charismatic leaders, Shigaraki is very dispassionate about it, while Izuku frequently denies how his influence might be fundamental when it comes to other people (Katsuki, All Might, 1A). However, Shigaraki does reflect in his personality, the venous desire to be angry, aggressive and destructive as it what his power entails, and after all what has been taught to him. I noticed as well a post (which unfortunately I cannot find) where it says that Shigaraki has a very high tolerance pain (again, the parallels with Izuku are insane), which also reconnects somehow to the colour red as we saw how Shigaraki himself even if tired (LoV vs Machia/LF) or absolutely bloody and at the brink of death is instead held up by his will to destroy (Shigaraki vs Heroes).

It relates to danger, power, determination and action. Well, Shigaraki and danger go to hand in hand as well as determination and action. After all, Shigaraki’s Modus Operandi is Trial and Error, which means he is not afraid to be wrong and to try things out, even if he is stubborn and ways things to go his way, every time (when that rarely happens in general).

Red is indeed determined, powerful, impulsive and aggressive. It is also tied to self-preservation. Although true for the most part, the self-preservation is still a massive blank point.

He is bloody, and even AfO is telling him to rest and preserve his energies (even if here, my counter argument would be that it would be easier for him to overtake Shigaraki’s body if he is weaker, so I do not know how reliable this is).

The color red in Japanese culture denotes strength, passion, self sacrifice and blood. It Also stands for good luck and happiness. Which is still very amusing to me, as Shigaraki feels like the farthest character away from achieving happiness, and his passions and strives are all useless unless he gets rid of his master puppeteer. However, Shigaraki embodies the self-sacrificing spirit. Even if it might sound strange, and he is not very willing to be himself in the front lines (at least not always), he does approach ReDestro himself and takes him on, while leaving the League to deal with the rest.

III.) Yellow

Surprise, surprise! Yellow, in the Japanese culture stands for Courage, while usually the Western culture associates it with Cowardice. It is a funny thing that it also stands for betrayal, sickness, egoism and madness on the negative side, however it is rather a holy colour, usually associated with deities on the other side.

Since I am not going to include yellow in the association paragraph, it is not a case that black reacts badly to yellow, and forms a very unpleasant colour, which means that the circumstances which follow either do not mix well together. However, it is also true how the most resonant contrast between yellow and another colour is given by black.

Plus yellow is the colour of the Solar Plexus Chakra and it is the symbol of vitality and will. All these elements, however present in a very limited amount in regard to Tenko, are telling of the aspect of authority (reconfirmed and amplified by black) and somehow, the lack of bright colours of Tenko makes the little yellow details resonating of a sad picture, as it embodies more the negative sides (egoism, sickness - and in part sickness).

Colours in Association.

Black used in contrast–particularly with white or yellow–does create energy (especially the contrast on shapes and just power that the image of waken up Shigaraki creates in the last arc is enough to send this message). It is as well true that black when used in opposition with white, symbolises the eternal struggle between day and night, good and evil, and right and wrong - a thing that for Shigaraki is somehow a metaphor and a literal representation of himself as a character. A perfect example would be the struggle he has with AfO for his body, where he struggles between his internal feelings and dreams and instead the evil will imposed by him by AfO, as well as in terms of consciousness where him being present and conscious is the day, while being subdued to AfO’s will in the Night.

Black usually represent the end, but the end always implies a new beginning. So when the light appears, and black transcends to white, it instead the colour of new beginnings. I already talked about how rebirth theme and the new beginning on new ideals and dreams is represented for Tenko by the colour white, however it is interesting also to note how his change in personality brings him from his childhood dream to being thankful to AfO who raised to him, but wanting to be even greater than AfO himself,- metaphor for Tomura’s life as being free from shackles of reality.

Bluish-Grey is also defined as ‘livid’, an adjective used to describe anger or decoloration of the skin (caused by bruising). This colour gives a sense of detachment - which also goes to review the colour grey and blue, in them being interpreted together as an entity, and how Tomura feels a detachment from his own memories, and past life, as well as his future (When Did We Ever Need A Future?) and instead seek meaning in everything that surrounds him.

Red and white are prominent traditional colours in Japan. Both colours are used in decorations at events which represent happiness and joy.

On a non serious note, Shigaraki’s date of birth is 4th of April, and casually the colours associated with April are Burgundy (deep red) and White (according to the Japanese etiquette).

And finally last remark for this post: it is very funny how Shigaraki’s palette is somehow almost the same as Bakugou’s (with the exception of green - which I would like to interpret as if Bakugou did not have Midoriya as his side, he could have ended in a far worse position, with no hope and no one to compare to).

Thank you for reading.

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zarathelonewolf · 3 years

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PLAY YOUR CARDS

You play your cards,

And I play mine.

They break into shards,

When our hearts collide.

What do you see in me?

I really don't know,

And of you, what do I think?

I really can't show.

Because you play your cards,

While I play mine,

Keeping us in the shadows,

Staying hidden through the night.

And no matter how much

The light tries to shine,

It cannot ever touch

The truth that hides:

In me,

In you,

And everything between...

I lost you one day,

Didn't know what it would mean.

And now we stay apart,

And we never speak

Of the sadness in our heart,

Of the pavement tiles that creak...

Whenever we walk together,

Whenever or world tethers,

We never really muster

The courage to reach each other.

Because you play your cards,

And I play mine,

So we'll never make the shards reunite,

Oh, our worlds only collide...

This poetry was written by me, in order to sort of represent what I feel is the often complicated, clumsy, not-always-honest way people try to connect with each other, usually failing to create valuable connections because of the barriers we put up (not necessarily without reasons)...

So the cards we play, what we show, have the chance to break and show us for who we really are, when our world collides with that of someone else we care about or that we want to care for, of someone else that is reaching out to us; if we stop that from happening, keeping our barriers up, showing ourselves only partially and without honesty towards the people we want to connect with (a behavior such person can either return or fight), we will never truly create/ deepen a relationship without fully trusting the other and ourselves. The shards created by our world's collision will never reunite into something worthwhile: our worlds will only clash and crash into each other, without the fragments joining in a satisfactory picture.

This poem is a way of encouraging, however, reserved people like me that don't always feel safe outside of their comfort zone and that have a hard time creating friends because of it; in my case, it's probably because I come off as a bit weird (maybe a lot) when I try to do that. There are ways of getting out of our shell, I know for sure... It is something I am working on, especially the part of me that becomes defensive when I feel like my personality or opinion is being downgraded, or regarded as too weird to be even conceived as acceptable.

Because I gesture too much when I speak, "laugh like a goat", and don't keep the volume constant (luckily, it's only an adult that keeps pestering me at this... I feel the need to scream whenever they remind me of how exaggerated I am). Because I'm "too much of a nerd", showing more interest towards books and drawings and art and writing rather than social media (f you TikTok... except for baker dude. And a few other videos. But to the majority of TikTok: plz stay away from me oh gawd) or any activity that doesn't involve a phone (I swear I was hated in middle school and mocked by a group of girls because I had no Facebook, Instagram, Twitter account).

I study hard except when I can't, I like studying except when I don't.. which is more than that adult from above ever wanted. I'm sorry, but even if I study well, doesn't mean I like studying in and of itself. It's a duty, and many subjects I find interesting... But it's not the end of the world if I get a B- instead of an A+ (unlike what that adult may think). I bury my head in school books even if the others keep telling me to "wing it" and be less "nerdy", except when I don't... Except for when I take a deep breath and try to fit in... coming off as weird anyways.

I stay silent or keep to myself, except when I try not to, and I try to deepen superficial connections, except when I am not given the chance...or when I feel like it isn't being given: there have been lots of people sending me mixed messages.

I long for friends except for when I don't, I keep track of those few that I have except for when my energy gets low, and exhaustion and annoyance gets the best of me.

I talk too little except for when I don't... And I talk too much except for when I don't, an opinion that pops up whenever people (read: that adult) start missing me vomiting out my world of opinions and anecdotes and information about animals and books that no one (or only some) would like to hear.

It's complicated. I'm complicated.

Playing your cards has become harder for me, however. I am tired of only showing my cards, without creating pictures with the shards. I want more, I want to be more in the eyes of the people, I want to make friends and allies and recognize who wants to hurt me and who actually wants to just talk. I want to stop grumbling whenever someone speaks to me, feeling down and horrible when I realize that I am being too grumpy, even with those that don't deserve it, and that I want to change, without really doing anything concrete about it. I want to feel lighter, in my heart and brain, I want to learn how to not let the mean words (meant or not) get to my mind, making me spiral down a hole of mistrust; a feeling that can be well deserved, towards those that demean who I am and my passions while denying they are doing it...or not so well deserved in regards to those that actually want to raise me up, and help me.

I want to get out of the cage I was put in, and that I reinforced by creating new insecurities or feeding old ones.

The world isn't making it easy, and not just because it gives me mixed messages, but because I myself perceive them, even when they aren't there. Because of my insecurities, I still misinterpret some stuff, making some of it seem like the end of the world while it really... isn't.

Not all the world is out to get me, though it can look like it. Not all the world doesn't like me for who I am, really.

I hope I can play my cards more wisely in the future... Maybe stop being a picky illusionist, and actually explain the tricks to others, the pros and cons of hiding behind them...

And how to play a game of cards, and end it there. Win or lose honestly, and end it there.

(Show what you have to show and end it there. Show your flaws and virtues honestly, trustingly, and end it there.)

No more running. I hope the world allows me to do that, I hope I find the key to the cage.

Or maybe I have already found it, and I just have to use it... Wait, I have already used it... But things will have to get worse before they get better.

Or... Haven't they already done that?

.... What am I waiting for, then?

Maybe I am just overwhelmed.

And it's a good thing, more than a bad one.

All that's left is sort things out. Maybe I am not completely out of the cage now or maybe I am out, but I need to jump over some walls in order to truly find myself.

No more running.

#poetry #personal #socializing has never been my forte #I hope someone actually gets what I was trying to convey #writing #my poetry

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skaylanphear · 5 years

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Monster

Summary: Ladybug didn’t know how far one could stretch the abilities of the peacock miraculous. And quite frankly, she hadn’t wanted to find out. But when she and Chat Noir finally catch Hawkmoth--revealing him to be Gabriel Agreste, no less--they learn the truth about many things. About him, his wife, and the unnatural means by which the couple had recreated their dead son using the same power that Mayura had twisted into sentimonsters.

And though Ladybug can’t figure out why Chat Noir seems to be taking the news so hard, his own identity soon makes it all clear.

(just another drabble based on a new episode. Like, y’all knew I had to do it to him)

Part 1

Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth.

This was a reality that was slowly sinking through Ladybug's system. After all, there was no denying the truth. He was crouched on the ground before her, his miraculous in her hand while her other gripped her yoyo. He'd tried to escape through the secret elevator in his house, but she and Chat had followed him through. Weakened after their previous battle and without the help of Mayura—who'd collapsed upstairs—it'd taken only another moment to steal his miraculous, leaving him exposed before them.

Exposed in his lair, which Marinette was taking in as she quickly looked around. Long walkways, butterfly breeding grounds, and…

"What the hell is this place?!" Chat demanded, pointing his stick threateningly in Gabriel's direction. "Explain. Now!"

"What does it look like?" Gabriel asked shortly, slumping some as he looked up at them. "It's a tomb."

Flicking her attention back behind him, Ladybug finally took in the ignited figure at the back of the room. She was propped up behind a glass case—a case more akin to a coffin. She was holding a bouquet of flowers, expression peaceful.

Chat was looking between the encased figure and Gabriel as well, just as confused as Ladybug.

"Is this why you wanted the miraculouses?" Ladybug asked.

Gabriel sighed. "With the power of your miraculouses, I can heal her." His gaze dropped to the ground. "I can bring her back."

"What's wrong with her?" Chat asked. Well, it was less a question so much as a demand. And when Gabriel didn't immediately answer, he extended his stick harshly into his chest, knocking him onto his back. "Tell me!"

"Chat!" Ladybug scolded, but he ignored her.

Gabriel shoved the stick aside and propped himself up on his hands. "I don't see how the details of her condition are any of your business," he snapped.

Ladybug glared. "I don't think you're in any position to be making determinations about anything."

Gabriel eyed her for a moment, before clicking his tongue and looking to the side. "She abused a miraculous and so suffered the consequences."

Chat curled his lip. "A miraculous?" he asked. "How? Why?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I want to know!"

Ladybug looked again to Chat, surprised at his ferociousness. But she had to admit that she, too, was curious as to how all this had gotten started. Not only because they'd finally caught Hawkmoth and she wanted details, but because this was Adrien's mother and father. Maybe it wasn't her business, but she still wanted to know.

"When you try to make a miraculous do something it's not meant to do, there are prices to be paid," Gabriel replied. "But Emilie was willing to pay that price, just as I'm willing to pay the price to bring her back."

"That's not an explanation," Chat growled.

"It's enough."

"It's not."

"Just tell us the whole story," Ladybug insisted. "And don't leave anything out."

Gabriel glared, but with Chat once again shoving his stick into his chest, he released another defeated sigh.

"It happened because of our son," he started, a statement that visibly startled both Chat and Ladybug. "Some years ago, he got… sick. Very sick. He'd always been… weak. That was why he had to stay in the house, and why we never let him go to school. Because his health… He just couldn't.

"We knew from the beginning that he was unlikely to live much past the age of twelve or thirteen. But even so, you can't… You don't just give up on your children. We talked with the best doctors in the world, got opinions from everyone, but no one could help us. So Emilie decided to look into… other options."

"The miraculous…" Ladybug determined.

"Yes. We got a lead that led us to Tibet, but the miraculouses we found weren't the ones we needed. What we needed were your miraculouses, but we got the peacock and moth miraculous instead.

"We started to give up hope. Adrien, he… he didn't have much time left. And so we decided that what little time he did have, we'd spend it… with him. Home. Together. As a family." He had to pause to take a shaky breath, his chin trembling as he visibly clenched his jaw. "He was everything good in the world. He knew he was—that he—he knew what was coming, and he was this… positive force through it all.

"He told us not to worry," he said, voice choked. "That everything would be fine. That he'd be fine, no matter what."

"You can't possibly know what it's like." He looked back up at them, heavy, dark grief apparent in his gaze. "To watch for months—years—as the one thing in the world you love the most slowly fades away."

Shaking his head, he tried to remain composed, but a single tear streaked down his cheek nonetheless.

"He died in my arms," he whispered, the words so strained it was amazing he could even say them. "Nothing but skin and bones, wasted away to nothing. He took his last breath while we held him, and then he was gone."

Despite herself, Ladybug blinked back her own emotions. None of it made sense, because she knew Adrien and he was strong and healthy. Yet, somehow, she realized that what Gabriel was saying was true as well.

"Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children," he continued brokenly, seemingly giving in to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to hold back his own despair. "Even though we knew it was coming, we could never have been prepared. It broke us both, losing him. But with Emilie it… it was like she just couldn't accept it.

"So she started experimenting with the peacock miraculous. At first, I thought she was just… grieving, creating these sentient creatures that looked like him, but never actually were. Because no matter how close to living the peacock miraculous makes these… things, they were never actually… But she kept going, thinking she was getting closer each time.

"But the peacock miraculous isn't the miraculous of creation—it doesn't have the ability to create life or restore it. Not within the typical parameters of how it's meant to be used. But Emilie, she… she was always the type to think outside the box. Like you." He nodded to Ladybug. "She always found a solution, even in the bleakest of circumstances.

"She became very skilled at creating these… fake copies of our son. I hated them, but they seemed to preoccupy her, so I just… kept my distance. Maybe if I'd been more attentive, I could have stopped her. But in the end, I was too late.

"She's kept a few locks of his hair, before we'd… As a memento. I don't know when she started using the hairs to create the creatures, but I suspect that was when the miraculous started siphoning off her own energy. Because with each attempt she made at making him real, the more there was that was required of her. Like I said, the peacock miraculous doesn't create life, so in order to do that, you have to get that life-force from someone else.

"She perfected him. She manipulated the genetics in those strands of hair, weeding out all the weaknesses and leaving everything else behind. But even so, he still wasn't… right. Which she knew, because she'd been practicing. Preparing herself for the real thing.

"So the time came when she felt she was ready. She took one of those single hairs and instead of keeping it, she created the… sentimonster, as you call them, around it. Protectively, so it could be born with free will that no one else could take or manipulate. And then she poured all of her life force into it.

"It shouldn't have worked, because that's not what the peacock miraculous is for. But I suppose we can't really know the true nature of the forces that reside inside those tiny jewelry pieces. They're beyond us. Her love, her memories, her desire, her grief, whatever it was she poured into him, it was enough to break the barriers that had defined what was possible with her miraculous.

"But it also shattered the miraculous, which in turn shattered what little remained of her. So here we are." He gestured out to the sides. "My wife is all but as dead as my son and all I wanted to do is bring her back."

To say that Ladybug was pale and shaky by the end of his story was a bit of an understatement. It was hard to believe, let alone rationalize. Because that meant the Adrien she knew, that went to school with her and her friends…

"But you have a son," she said sternly, as if needing to convince herself.

"Yes." Gabriel shrugged one shoulder. "I have the living embodiment of what Emilie thought our son was and want she wanted him to be. A perfect child that represents all that we loved without all the ill that stole him away from us. But though they share the same name, he's not the Adrien that died in my arms. He's perfect and unreal, just as Emilie intended him to be."

"But he's not unreal," Chat reasoned, sounding oddly desperate. "He's… He's a person. He has feelings and memories and—"

"And he is just as Emilie intended him to be," Gabriel replied flatly.

"You talk about him as if he's not your son at all," Ladybug pointed out.

"Of course he's my son," Gabriel snapped. "But he's not the son we lost and he never will be. Emilie's grief created something unnatural and she had to pay the consequences, while I live on with a constant reminder of everything I lost, loving it—him—because what else is there possibly left for me to do?" Once again, his expression broke. "He's perfect, but he's the only thing in my life that is."

"No one is perfect," Ladybug replied, finally beginning to regain her composure. "Your wife did an abhorrent thing, creating Adrien the way she did." Gaping, Chat whipped around to look at her. "But it's not his fault he exists, nor is it his fault that he now has to pay the price for you and your wife's mistakes."

"If you'd give me your miraculouses, he wouldn't have to know a thing about it," Gabriel growled out.

"What makes you think there isn't a price to be paid to use our miraculouses that way too?" she asked. "What you want to do is no more unnatural than what your wife did originally. You've created a life and ruined it all at the same time.

"You act like what your wife did was a mistake, but now you're trying to do the same thing. What makes you think your attempts will end any differently?"

"Because this time I'll have the proper tools!"

"No, you won't," she said firmly. "There are no right tools for what you're trying to do. No, all either of you have done was create a child that you've now orphaned. His mother is dead and now his father… You've done Adrien a horrible, horrible wrong and there's no way you'll ever be able to undo it."

"I'm doing this for Adrien!" Gabriel insisted.

"No you're not," Ladybug insisted. "You're doing it for yourself. Because you're just as steeped in grief as your wife was.

"This ends now," she said finally. "No more will you abuse any miraculouses. Or Adrien, for that matter."

"I love my son."

"That doesn't mean any of this is okay. I know Adrien. And I know that he'd never approve of anything you've been doing." She paused, swallowing hard. "And I hope to god that he never finds out the truth you just told us."

Gabriel glared. "Then you're not going to even try and help me."

Ladybug stood firm. "No."

And so Gabriel looked to Chat Noir. "And you?"

"I've already called the police," he said coldly, holding up his stick as he did. The phone adaptor was open, programmed to supply the authorities with their location. "You'll never be allowed to abuse a miraculous the way you and your wife have ever again."

Gabriel scowled.

"You're going to prison," he continued. "And if I have anything say about it, you'll be locked up for the rest of your life."

"It won't be that simple," Gabriel practically threatened.

"You're a terrorist that's murdered thousands. I don't think there's much to question," Ladybug replied.

"Thousands that you brought back!" Gabriel practically shouted. "How is that any different than what I'm trying to do?!"

"Because I only bring back the people who have died by the unnatural means of your abused miraculous!" she snapped. "I'm not bringing back people who die every day outside of your influence. I wouldn't even know where to start in doing that, because I know better than to question things like the natural process of life and death! Your wife… Your wife tampered with that line and I can't… I won't follow in her footsteps. And I'm certainly not going to allow you to do that either."

"You'd rather retain a status quo?" Gabriel asked. "Is that really the attitude of a hero?"

"It's the attitude of someone who knows their place in the universe," Ladybug replied simply. "And who has accepted their own mortality in the face of a universe I know is beyond my comprehension."

"Then you're a coward, unwilling to reach beyond your simple existence!"

"No, Gabriel," she said steadily. "You're the one unwilling to face reality. If anyone here is a coward, it's not me or Chat Noir."

Maybe he'd have had more to say. Maybe he'd have tried to do more than that. But if fate truly existed, it had something far different in store for Gabriel Agreste. Within the moment that Ladybug had quit speaking, they heard voices overhead, before a flashlight was shining down through the elevator shaft behind them. Snapping her yoyo out, Ladybug wrapped Gabriel up before he could finish standing, stranding him in place while Chat turned and marched back toward the elevator.

Soon enough, the police were all over the lair. And while Ladybug knew there was no hiding what was obvious, she hoped that perhaps she'd be able to keep a majority of the more sensitive details between only her and Chat Noir. Keeping both the moth and peacock miraculous hidden in her fist, she gladly handed Gabriel Agreste over to the authorities.

She wanted to find Adrien before things could get too messy. He had to be somewhere in the house. At the very least, she wanted to prepare him for what was coming. Yet as she attempted to retreat back up the elevator shaft, she was halted by the police for questioning. And so she ended up stranded for some time, explaining all that had happened and any details she felt were pertinent.

By the time she finally broke away and swung up the elevator shaft (the police calling after her), at least thirty minutes had passed. Hopefully—upon realizing that the police were swarming his house—Adrien had been barricaded away.

She really wanted to be the one to talk to him first.

And where had Chat Noir disappeared to?

Ignoring the police that continued to try and get her attention, she vaulted across Gabriel's study and out the door. Jumping to the banister along the stairs, she sprinted upward and over, deciding that the first place she would look was Adrien's bedroom.

The door was unguarded and unlocked, making it easy for her to press her way inside.

"Adrien?" she called as she walked in.

The room was dark, the night sky cloudy beyond the windows, the moon's light slightly hindered. But it was still light enough to see, and so she scanned the room.

There, sitting on the edge of Adrien's bed, was a single figure.

"Chat?" she asked, recognizing him immediately.

He didn't look up at her. In fact, it didn't even seem as though he had heard her. Hunched over, he was staring down at his hands, wholly indulged in his own thoughts.

"Chat," Ladybug said more firmly, making her way over as she did. "Have you seen Adrien?"

Still, he didn't answer. But he did twitchingly look up at her, the sight of his confused, distressed green eyes immediately jump-starting Ladybug's own concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked quickly. "Is everything okay? Are you okay? What about Adrien? Where is—"

The bright green flash of Chat's transformation disappearing was both startling and shocking, Ladybug freezing in place as her eyes went wide. But she didn't have time to look away, her gaze still zeroed in on Chat as his black suit disappeared to reveal…

Heart surging into her throat, she felt everything inside of her go numb as she stared into those familiar green eyes, both of which were now bordered in tears.

"Adrien..?"

He swallowed hard, the tears overflowing down his cheeks.

"My Lady," he struggled to say, each word sounding as though he had to pry it free from hardened concrete. "I—I'm Adrien."

He gasped helplessly, a sob ripping from his throat.

"I'm a monster."

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #ladybug #spoilers #ml spoilers #miraculous spoilers #my fics #fics #part 1 #Monster #sentimonster!adrien

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ddaenghoney · 5 years

Text

chapter twelve

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): mentions of anxiety and themes of anxiety from slight claustrophobic environment.

Word count: 5463

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

You click the volume button on your phone to raise the playlist’s sound to comfortable blur of the world around. More particularly, to avoid any verbiage from entering your eardrums when you are already too aware of how much attention you bring to yourself. Rationalizing that your presence at the airport makes sense given your public relationship with Yoongi, you simply scroll through a feed of posts on Instagram to bide time, waiting for an arrival text.

Yoongi told you not to come when you told him as he boarded his flight home that you’d be there to greet him. Explaining that it’s dangerous to your safety considering the amount of crowds sure to welcome him as well with the flight back being public, Yoongi said he’d go see you from the airport instead. You would’ve agreed had the whole ordeal not been requested hours earlier in a direct email from Yerin.

“Ms.,” The sound muffles in your ears, more aware of the bodyguard’s request for your attention by means of a gentle pat on your shoulder. You remove an earbud, spine tingling at choice words that seemed amplified by the tall ceilings and shiny tile floor of the terminal. “He should be landing soon, when he enters, please make sure you follow our guidance to the vehicle instead of loitering. For your safety.”

You nod, feeling exceptionally feeble in this alien situation. Never in your life would you picture yourself waiting for someone of such high recognition in the middle of the airport at the top of a wall of fans held behind you by use of a flimsy metal barrier. Furthermore, you would not ever think the person would be a falsified boyfriend where your position in the crowd only drives irritated spikes constantly in your direction.

Granted, the majority of people waiting to spot Yoongi seem polite, and even yell back in your defense. Still, you didn’t necessarily want to be at the center of this type of attention. The guard next to you probably finds you being there just as annoying as you thought you’d be when you read the email’s demand-

“Look, he’s here!”

Like the shot to start a race, the one discernable exclamation causes a frenzy of calls. The barrier budges only slightly, impact stopping as sensibility takes over and the hundred or so people try to act as civil as possible given the circumstances.

You clutch your phone tighter in your grasp, glancing back at them all as they scream different things to gain attention, but your eyes go back to the opening doors. Along with other passengers getting as far away from the mayhem as possible, Yoongi walks out with the inherent entourage of staff and guards.

Your smile is incredibly forced because of the nerves rumbling in your throat from the amount of people and volume, but then altogether the expression fades away as Yoongi just nods in a direction for you to follow them down the premade path to the awaiting SUV. Gathering he’s irritated by the added hysteria of you being there, you move towards him quickly, grabbing hold of the hand he extends out for you, but it becomes abandons as well. Instead replaced by Yoongi’s arm worming around your waist to pull you closer to his stature as the crowds get more vivid on account of paparazzi waiting towards the doors.

Your newly free hands find purchase quickly gripping onto the fabric hanging off of Yoongi’s torso, nervously following his pace as the bright flashes stun your senses. Biting roughly on your lip, you feel the bumps from security, hear the constant shouts of attention for both of you, and try your best to ignore it all, repeating that it’ll end soon.

The car doors are open long before the two of you reach them. Yoongi nudges you ahead at last moment to let you inside first, following in quickly afterward with the door shutting just as swiftly. You exhale air held in your lungs as your hands fiddle with one another in your lap, trying to ease as the car departs.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi raises the armrest of his seat to turn, knee nearly bumping your own seat while his eyes scan over your person. “I wish you would’ve told Yerin no-- that-” He points to the back of the car where road trails behind you both, head shaking, “is scary enough for anyone, but making you wait there for me for hours?” He scoffs, rubbing his bangs back from his face, “Bullshit. You shouldn’t have had to go through that, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Quiet lingers in the air, Yoongi’s chest rising and emptying a bit more visibly from the angered rant. He waits for you to respond, still eyeing your figure for outward signs of distress from the crowds. You eventually nod your head,

“Not a fan of that all.” Your voice feels grated, must sound so too as Yoongi frowns at you in response. He glances to your hands balled in your lap, still fidgety for relief with one another. Wordlessly he reaches for them both, taking them within his larger appendages. Rubbing gently, Yoongi also nods his head to your conclusion. “I’m sorry if it made you upset I was there though.”

“I’m not mad about that.” Yoongi mumbles easily in response, keeping contact for himself because of how your hands feel between his. Naturally, he hates that invasive part of fame, finding it anxiety inducing for multiple reasons. “It just bothers me you had to be around all of the crowds and deal with that.”

“I’m okay.” You convince him with a small voice, that also helps your own psyche to hear aloud. A faint smile curls on Yoongi’s lips as he lifts his gaze back to yours, silently telling you that you didn’t need to pretend. Your shoulder shrugs because it’s not a complete lie. “You’re here. I’m okay.”

Yoongi’s lips pursed at your tiny admission, appearing to grow satisfied with the words, but his head ducks shyly. The balling connection of your hands feel only a little tighter because of a flustered squeeze by Yoongi, “If you say so then...”

“Oh,” You interrupt the moment to shift on your seat, facing Yoongi when he looks back to you in a focused surprise. “Can we go to my apartment? I have the cake.” You grin as you watch Yoongi’s eyes light up in remembrance of the jovial promise you made to him before leaving. His lips curl, visibly peeking teeth as he chuckles at the excitement and pride you emit from the endeavor,

“Who am I to say no to cake?” ---

“Ignore all the papers on the-- what’s supposed to be-- dining table. I’m the worst at keeping it clean.” You mutter as you type in the code for your front door, ignoring Yoongi’s light laughter because in reality you’re internally thinking about how much of a mess you left the rest of the place. Pushing the door open, you scan the room as Yoongi follows you inside. Incidentally, it’s not that awful, but the table is as much of a disorganized array of papers, notebooks, and other stationary that you knew it would be.

“You can put your backpack on the armchair, or anywhere.” You gesture to your living area, before walking along to the kitchen space on the side opposite the table.

“I’m going to end up falling asleep on the couch if I get too close to it.” Yoongi admits in a joking murmur as he places his bag beside the entrance to your door instead, stretching out his arms when they’re free of the weight.

“Wait, yeah, you’re probably really tired, huh?” You frown as you pull out the cake from the refrigerator, turning to place it on the small island. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you go home and sleep-” “I’m okay,” He says with a smile, though your frown remains because of sleepiness in his eyes as Yoongi meets you in the kitchen. “Besides I’m just going to make my sleep schedule worse if I let myself go to sleep at two in the afternoon.” He tilts his head, smile tugging on his lips as you continue to frown up at him dissatisfied with the situation. “Quit pouting, I’m okay.”

“I’m not pouting.” You mumble, averting your gaze to the cake, fingers lazily playing with the container’s lid. The movement halts as Yoongi’s chuckling rings in your ears followed by his thumb prodding the plush of your cheek, calling your eyes back to his.

“You’re literally pouting.” Yoongi’s voice is quieter than it needs to be, despite its playful intonation as he studies your expression with gleaming fondness seemingly in his irises. You tighten your lips into a line, listening to the silence while the imaginary sound of your heart tries to pretend it’s accelerating audibly. “I can sleep later; I wanted to see you, Y/N, it’s not a big deal.” His arm falls back to his side as Yoongi looks to the container, catching the pink frosting’s pigment visible through the blur of the container’s texture. “Don’t judge me if I eat this entire thing, by the way.”

“Are you hungry?” Your soft tone is contrastingly teasing paired with a smile as Yoongi makes a tiny unintelligible noise followed by a mumble of falling asleep when they served food on the plane. You poke your finger into his side, giggling instantly as he jerks from you and grabs your hand. His eyes are wide, startled when he looks back at you, appearing utterly and dramatically offended that you tickled him beneath his ribcage. “Grilled cheese sound good?”

A grilled cheese layered with deli meat and quickly sauteed veggies and a full slice of cake make Yoongi sigh with contentment as he relaxes back into your couch. You watch with amusement as the amount of carbohydrates weigh down his eyes more than before. Chewing on the final bite of cake he insisted you had to eat as well or else it wouldn’t be a real celebration, you set your empty plate to the coffee table clattering its edge barely against Yoongi’s. “You and Namjoon are great at cooking.”

“It was just a sandwich.” You play off the compliment, thinking back to the first year of Namjoon’s cafe opening where you helped him out a lot more than nowadays that it is settled.

“The best one ever.” Yoongi goes on, eyes closed while he lounges back on the cushion, smiling when he hears you scoff in disbelief, yet with gratitude. The show’s sound lingers in the background of your perception, as you ponder calling him a cab so Yoongi could go properly rest. “You know you still haven’t told me about how the meeting with Yerin went.”

In the moment Yoongi brings up the topic you’ve done entirely well to avoid so far, you bite onto your bottom lip, shifting your stare aimlessly back to the television. Telling Yoongi that you’ve practically quit your job with no plan on how to get back on your feet afterward sounds like a way to get him to think you’re a little bit crazy, or at least very careless. When Namjoon found out he spent about ten minutes going back and forth from congratulating you without fervent emotion and staring at you like he was just as confused about what you would do as well.

You didn’t really want to go through that again, even if it is warranted due to their worry.

A hum vibrates your lips, thinking of a way to get him to altogether forget about this subject. Maybe if you put on a rain asmr playlist he’d fall asleep and you could abandon the country for a week to figure out an excuse of why you’re irrationally spoken decision in the meeting won out over something more civil. And resembling a continued livelihood.

“Was it bad after all?” Yoongi shifts on the couch beside you, legs coming up to sit criss cross as he faces you to better gauge your emotions. “You said you’d tell me about it when I got back since it wasn’t a big deal, but,” A tiny laugh leaks out with a contrasting mixture of nervous and attempt to keep the conversation’s ambience light-hearted. “Maybe not?”

“There’s just not much to say,” You begin vaguely, fingers in your lap fidgeting with one another as you figure out how to go about speaking, “They weren’t interested in changing my contract anymore than giving me a larger percentage of royalties so,” You shrug as the words trail away, thinking that you have no actual reason to find this difficult to admit. Yoongi wouldn’t be angry or judge you, but it felt embarrassing to say. Considering how financially secure your career at SoundWave keeps you, how could you just pull away from that to practically start over from the ground up?

“Ah,” Yoongi head nods in understanding. You glance towards him, watching him tossle around his locks and appear so groggy and without energy from the ten hour flight home. Yet he still seems intent to pay attention and hear what your situation is like now, to be beside you as you adapt to changes. “So you signed with them again.”

“I didn’t renew the contract.”

Without flinching, your eyes follow Yoongi’s head as it shoots up. No particular shock invades his appearance for a moment, just eyebrows creasing and a mutter, “You didn’t?” It’s as you nod slowly that his eyes begin to widen, lips parting in a shocked circle, then a repeat, “You didn’t.”

You swallow thickly, before cracked, small, practically soundless laughter leaves your lips as you just nod again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Your words are hollow, different from how you casually spoke the facts to Namjoon a week ago. More caught up with the severity. Worried.

“Wait,” Yoongi frowns, rubbing his neck as he connects everything verbally, “They weren’t going to change the contract like you wanted, so you decided not to renew. You’re just going to be there until your contract ends?” Rambling continues along while you just nod in response. Eventually your own hands come up to hold your jaw as you mutter,

“Oh, I fucked up. I messed up, didn’t I?”

“No,” Unconvinced you look at Yoongi whose head shakes instantly, though there’s nothing about how his eyes stare at you that help you believe the response. “No, no-- you deserve credit, Y/N. You really do.”

“I’m not getting credit for anything at SoundWave.” You mutter, letting yourself fall on your side into the couch, straying from Yoongi just so he wouldn’t catch the consistent nervousness invading your expression. “I have to find a company-- work in general for songwriting or production with a blank resume.” You inhale, counting the seconds as the air sits in your lungs.

In the short gap of response you recall how much Yoongi has had to do for you so far. Always comforting your screw ups and dealing with the remnant dissatisfaction in your previous relationship. Now you lie on your couch, ranting your problems again, and hoping for something in response. You don’t do enough for him at all, yet you still lean on him like it’s his job to help you out.

You didn’t want to tell him about the meeting because Yoongi’s nice and he’d give you advice, spend his energy worrying for you as well. You shouldn’t misuse his kindness, especially when he has plenty of other responsibilities for his own job. You exhale the air, scooting further from him to rest your head on the plush of the armrest, “Yoon, just forget it. I’ll figure it out on my own somehow, you don’t need to listen to all of this crap.”

Yoongi blinks, frowning in dissatisfaction of the apparent worry, and your misplaced desire to push him out of your affairs for fear of it being annoying. “I’m not obligated, Y/N.” He waits a second to hear a response but receives nothing more than your legs curling slightly towards your chest. His hand presses into the couch, torso arching as Yoongi scoots to lean over, “What’s wrong with telling me?”

“I always rant about things to you.” Your eyes evade his own, though you’re very aware of the closer proximity due to the shadow he casts over you. “And you’re always, like, I guess accommodating to all the problems I have, and I bet it’s so old by now. You’re tired from your plane ride and I’m just stressing you out more.”

“You have to get this out of your head that you’re troubling me because of any of this, angel.” Yoongi’s voice resembles starlight, and the sentiment exuding shines in little spurts across your senses. Your mouth tightens into a line, just returning the slightest glance because you’re unsure why he’s this sweet to you. “I can’t imagine how nerve-wracking this is for you, but it’s okay to let people help you.”

“Do-” You cut yourself off, sighing as you head shakes a little. It’s past the time when you should be asking what you want to ask, but it feels acceptable to go on as Yoongi simply stays silent. To help encourage you further, his free hand rest overtop of yours, working to cast warmth. “Do you think I messed up, Yoon?”

Despite the uncertainty, despite this being the biggest decision you could have made for your career, the line of questioning doesn’t cause Yoongi a lot of thought. One could blame the blind optimism or inherent positivity of his closeness to you that makes him assume your success from here on is sure, but he doesn’t think that deeply about it. After all that you’ve created and produced musically, he simply believes everything will be okay for you, so he shakes his head. Smiling gently as his hand squeezes yours, he says all you could want to hear in that moment,

“Not at all. You stood up for yourself. That’s never wrong.”

It takes only a moment for a smile to begin flowering on your face, more on account of Yoongi’s convicted gaze that maintains a softness that you’re starting to believe is an unconscious talent of his. Nodding slightly, you sigh letting yourself heed his perspective, if only as a means to make yourself try and think as optimistically. In the very least, if you were able to make a career out of music, albeit not under the best circumstances, then you have as much of a chance to do it again.

“Maybe I always tell you everything because you always say something to make me happier.” The audible ponder causes a tiny prickling of heat to crawl along the back of Yoongi’s neck then flourish more so as you shift beneath him, properly looking up at him with a sincere smile. The situation between your bodies travels closer to the forefront of his mind, but Yoongi’s cheeks speckle with pink only because of your words’ effect.

“I’m glad you think that.” Yoongi speaks quietly, rich timbre touched with a fluster. You nearly giggle at the fact, but the candylike tone of his proceeding admission causes your chest to swell, “I’ll always try to make you feel better, whenever you need me to.”

His words are sweet like honey, inciting summer to crawl along your complexion. You swallow nothing, just finding the gaze he returns to your eyes completely entrapping, but more so like that of a hug. Your heart could gush from just the pleasantness of his voice.

“Yoongi,” You find nothing to say following calling his name, so instead your hands escape his singular grip so that you can cover your face, hiding away the erupting blush. “You’re-” You groan without irritation, prompting Yoongi’s eyes to widen in confusion. His lips curl into an inquisitive frown, altogether taken aback back by your flustered state. “You’re dangerous-- you’re too sweet. I can’t even believe you.”

“What?” He chuckles at your senseless mumbles where you lie beneath him. “Dangerous and sweet, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Right?” You peek from beneath your hands, nodding. “You’re a contradiction.” Masked away from his view is your smile as Yoongi continues in chuckles. You feel his body growing limp, likely tired from holding himself up on one arm for the duration of the conversation, and then sleepy on account of his earlier plane ride. “You should take a little nap, at least. I’ll wake you up, promise.”

“You think so?” He questions your ability to wake him up though not actually intending to challenge you. Yoongi’s body inevitably sinks atop of your own, and he intends to shift away until your hand lies on his bicep comfortably. He bites his lip, suddenly undesiring of moving, especially as you hum an affirmative to his rhetorical ask. “Aren’t I heavy?” A testing whisper. Gauging if you’re as settled with the position as he finds himself to be.

“No, I don’t think you are.” You brush away his nerves unknowingly, finally finding your own courage to let your free hand mesh very gently into his bleached locks. Trying to soothe him into a quick slumber you guide your fingertips play around rhythmically, only ceasing for a moment as Yoongi’s waist shifts just so that he can rest more comfortably. Also ensuring that the majority of his body weight doesn’t press onto you, but that’s about all he can manage until the ministrations of your fingers in his hair lull him out completely.

---

“What are you so worried about?” Yoongi stares blankly at the computer screen while Hoseok’s question on speaker phone rings through his ears. Analyzing the final touches on the side project of potential songs he’s made with you over the past couple of months, he finds himself unsettled looking at them. Your name brightly pixelated in parenthesis beside each title, and it only serves to irritate Yoongi to continue seeing it.

Not that he ever planned to release these songs, but now that they’re done and he’s well into consideration for what could come for you at the end of the month when your contract is officially finished, Yoongi can’t avoid the negative association of their presence in his computer’s library.

“She doesn’t know what she’s going to do, and even if she’s as talented as she is, it’s fucking hard to get any noteworthy company to give her chance, Hoseok.” Yoongi sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “I’m worried about her; she already shouldn’t be having to start over, but I can’t do anything to help her, and I couldn’t do anything to help you either.”

There’s a falter of replies, both parties finding themselves surprised at the final piece of the outburst.

“Yoongi-”

“I should’ve helped you.” The conversation shifts back into stagnation. Yoongi sighs again, rubbing his face as the expected reply comes after a long pause.

“I told you me getting fired is my own fault. You know the CEO already had crap against me. The situation with Seulgi just sealed the deal for him.” Hoseok’s voice reasons factually, as if those two simple reasons are enough to say being laid off from their old company makes any type of sense. “I don’t blame you for anything.”

“I do.” Yoongi doesn’t know if his voice is loud enough for Hoseok to hear, but he doesn’t repeat the admission. Recalling how simple it would’ve been to defend his friend, Yoongi taps his finger on his desk, then glances back up at his screen where your presence remains like a reminder of a year ago. Yet different from that time.

Yoongi feels no worry about his own career while he stares in thought of what to do about your own. Where he had to consider his actions in light of his stoic reputation in the public, he doesn’t think about that in the present. His manager would if Yoongi brought the issue up, likely be ready to shut down anything related to helping you in the eyes of the media and fans. Risking the long-running persona of SUGA for some unfortunate songwriter who made a misguided choice is impossible. Reasonably speaking, SUGA can’t help you without sticking the name in the middle of a potential scandal.

“It’s kind of funny hearing you so worried about her considering you only became friends from having to pretend to date.” Hoseok disrupts the stream of thought, bringing Yoongi back to reality. “She went and met you at the airport a couple of days ago, right? Saw it all over twitter.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, then furrows his eyebrows at the memory of loud people and camera lenses in every direction around you as he walked into the lobby. “They made her go. Isn’t that fucked up? What if something happened?” He rubs his jaw, feet pushing him languidly side to side in his seat. “She’s not used to crowds like that-- it makes me mad-” Hoseok’s laughter stiffens Yoongi’s shoulders. Wondering what he said, Yoongi whines to cut into the laughter, “What?”

“You’re just really fond of her, huh?” Hoseok’s light voice makes Yoongi go quiet. Lips tighten into a line as he goes on. “I thought from the pictures that you became an actor overnight, but I guess that was really you being protective.”

Confused, Yoongi tilts his head in thought, trying to recall if he seemed particularly overbearing in the airport, but can only come to the conclusion that he had been trying to ensure you felt secure in the intense environment. He crosses his arms over his chest, humming when Hoseok questions aloud if the line went dead.

“What do you mean fond of her?”

“What?” Hoseok laughs again, but more so from amusement, spinning around in his desk chair on his side of the line, barely missing a collision with his knee on the corner of the table. “Bro, you know what I mean-”

“Wait,” Yoongi takes hold of his phone as loud thumping hits against his door followed by the ring of the doorbell. “I’ll talk to you later, I need to go.” Rolling his eyes at the dramatic, high-pitched whine Hoseok sends through the line, Yoongi ends the call, abandoning his phone on the desk as he gets up. Dotting through a quick list of potential visitors, he doesn’t recall anyone supposed to come, and knows it isn’t you because of your knowledge of the passcode.

“Hey,” One of the other producers greets Yoongi with a smile as he opens the door. A large, orange envelope in his hand waves into the air, “I was just bringing you some mail from the lobby while I was on the way to my desk.” He explains casually, prompting a nod from Yoongi albeit with smothered confusion on why the random producer is doing him a favor when they’ve barely ever worked together.

“Oh, thanks for that.” Yoongi sets aside the speculation, instead voicing appreciation as he takes the delivery.

“Yeah,” The guy’s reply falters, but Yoongi shakes it off to step back into his studio until the exchange continues further, “Actually, you’re close with Y/N now, right? Is it true she got fired?”

Inquisitive to the ear, but something deeper about the tone makes Yoongi’s eyebrows crease. He looks back towards the producer who meets his eyes with a now forced smile. Deciphering the intention as something negative, Yoongi’s head tilts in consideration of what he could be trying to get at. “Where’d you here that from?” “What? Oh,” He stutters, glancing towards the door frame as he shrugs, “You know, just gossip and all… I was just curious since she gets the most work, you know?”

Yoongi inhales remaining silent as he comes to understand this producer to be similar of a vulture. Likely others too are interested in receiving more work following your inevitable departure, but the insinuation of you being let go instead of quitting unsettles him. Irritating to hear. “I mean, it’s not just me curious,” He glances again away from Yoongi this time down the hallway where his eyes grow wide for a split second upon recognition, “Oh, like Jimin here-- hey, you’re wondering if Y/N got fired too, aren’t you?”

Yoongi steps a small step forward so he can lean his head and view down. Jimin appears confused at the question, hands in his pockets like he’d simply been walking to wherever.

“You heard she got fired, didn’t you-”

“Stop saying that.” Yoongi cuts into the producers loud voice, slicing them with an annoyed grit clinging to his words. “She didn’t get fired.” His arms cross over one another, envelope hitting against his side as he does so. Jimin’s movement causes Yoongi’s gaze to shift back towards him, expression etched with his upset temperment from the rude gossiping.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, slow steps like that of someone on a stroll, intending to walk past them both. The producer shifts a little distance away from Yoongi’s calm and heavy glare, watching with a stupor at the disposition that originally he hadn’t expected as a reaction to his questioning.

“It was just a question,” He mutters then nearly bites his tongue when Yoongi snaps his eyes back, “I just think it’d be pretty good for the company to vary more, that’s all-- she just works in the background anyways, it’s not like anyone would notice.”

“Hey,” Jimin interrupts the trail of irritated rebuttals about to leave Yoongi’s lips, eyes fixating into a glare towards the fidgeting producer, “She does more for the company than any of us do, so why don’t you stop talking shit and go actually work on something?”

“I,” The producer bites his lip, glancing nervously between Jimin and Yoongi, before nodding his head, “Yeah,” He turns on his heel, then startles backwards a few paces towards Jimin, eyes widening. “Oh, Y/N-”

The tension in Yoongi’s expression releases, stepping forward to let his studio door shut, revealing you barely more than a few feet from the three of them with two members of a girl group looking increasingly shocked and curious at the conversation at hand. He stays quiet, wondering how much of the guy’s stupidity you heard, but as he takes in your narrowed eyes he can freely assume enough.

“I didn’t get fired, I quit.” You say simply, voice devoid of civility. Glancing from the completely embarrassed producer to Yoongi then Jimin, you just sigh. Though you were aware this questioning would come eventually, you expected something more decent than gossip about people wanting to shift into your spot the second you leave the company. The two girls around you voice shocked questioning, but you pay no mind to them, “Next time you want to try gossiping about me, just ask me yourself; this is so ridiculous going behind my back for your own selfish gain.”

Jimin steps to the side as the producer nearly collides with him as he paces back another step, “You’re right, I’m sorry-- really.” You just scoff, watching him quickly scamper down the hallway so nothing more could be said.

“Wait, Y/N, you’re really leaving?” The youngest of the girl group members asks you with surprise, frown covering up her face. You just rub your face, nodding,

“Yeah, sorry; I have stuff to do.” You mumble in reply feeling a headache ready to come on from this whole stupid situation that is no doubt going to become increasingly invasive as this situation gets talked about around the company. You step towards Yoongi, turning to smile apologetically to the two girls, “It’s not a big deal, sorry.”

You hear the familiar sound of a clicking keypad and find the door opening as Yoongi takes the hint to let you inside. He steps inside first, holding the door open with his hand, as you go to follow and find yourself looking towards Jimin. Devoid of much expression his head just nods in a silent greeting to you and your find yourself doing the same without really noticing, going on to murmur quietly, “Thanks for speaking up for me, Jimin.”

Then you enter into Yoongi’s studio, realizing as the door clicks shut that Jimin finally did what you thought he never wanted to. Where in the past he’s only ever stood by silently while the company uses you to its own benefit, he today defended you without any need. Though you have no way of reasoning why he suddenly found it necessary to speak on your behalf, you find the fact that it occured a startling mixture of thankfulness and comfort.

Only it came too late.

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi @xionysus @baebyjoonie @honeyoongles

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theunluckiestchat · 4 years

Text

Remembrance 7

It was truly summer. The sun sitting high on sky, the heat making the skin sweaty and sticky. People in every direction having something cold in their hand, like an ice cream or milkshake. Adrien couldn’t wait for later in the day when it would be him holding an ice cream and sharing it with his new girlfriend. It only took their second date to make it official and Adrien couldn’t be happier about it. Being with Marinette was like an amazing dream. And he never wanted to wake up.

“Almost there now” Nino said from where he was walking beside him and Adrien smiled at the words. Almost by Marinette. “Do you think it’ll be awkward?”.

At those words though, Adrien frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“You know, dude. Being around Luka. And Marinette. At the same time.” as Nino said it, he gave him a pointed look.

With explanation, Adrien of course knew what he was talking about. Except it was such a non-issue that he almost had to laugh.

“It’s not gonna be awkward” he said, and couldn’t help the few giggle that escaped his mouth. “They were only together for a few months and it was years ago. Besides, Luka and I are friends. We wouldn’t let something like this make it awkward”

Adrien felt confident in the truth of his words. The relationship between Marinette and Luka was so long ago and so short-lived that it seemed like everyone basically forgot it happened. To be fair, he didn’t exactly know how Luka felt about the fact that ‘Adrinette’ (as Alya had dubbed it) was a thing now, but he doubted it bothered him much. They had talked a few times since the first date with Marinette and Luka hadn’t seemed anything but happy for them.

“Still, you’re dating his ex” Nino said, his eyebrow furrowed.

Once again, all Adrien could do was laugh. They were only a few meters away from the Couffine’s houseboat now and had already been spotted by the people on it. He saw his girlfriend wave to him which he returned with a giant smile.

“By that logic” Adrien said to Nino. “Marinette and Kagami shouldn’t be able to hang out. Do you wanna tell them that?”

He didn’t want to do that, if the way his eyes widened was any indication. Adrien just grinned and boarded the boat. He immediately made a beeline for Marinette, who was sitting off to the side from the others, behind a camera.

Four chairs had been set up at the center of the deck. Juleka, Rose and Luka occupied three of them, while Alya sat in the last one across from the rest, with a camera set up next to her. Rose was in the middle of recounting some story of one of the times she had met Ladybug and Chat Noir. She was talking about how determined Ladybug had been to make sure everyone was safe, and that she had complimented Rose’s outfit. Adrien couldn’t help but smile. That sounded like Ladybug.

Next to him, Marinette put a hand on her head and groaned quietly. When he looked at her, he could see that her eyes were closed and her forehead was creased. He quickly took her hand and squeezed it. She looked up at him with slightly glassy eyes.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, to not disturb the recording.

Marinette smiled back, although it seemed a little strained. “I’m fine. I’ve just got a headache. I think I might be a bit dehydrated” she said, just as quietly, and leaned her head against Adrien’s shoulder.

He chuckled a little at that answer. “It’s important to drink a lot of water in this heat.”

“I know” Marinette groaned. “I just got so wrapped up in this project that I forgot I had to live. Alya had to force me to leave my room today. I was almost finished, too!” she said with pout. Adrien chuckled again and kissed the crown of her head. She was just so cute.

As he felt Marinette relax a little more and lean a littler heavier on him, he turned his attention back to the interview happening in front of him. Nino had placed himself right behind the camera, and seemed like he really wanted to make adjustments to how it was placed, but every time he tried to Alya subtly swatted his hand away. After a few moments of this he ended up sitting down beside Adrien instead, pouting even more than Marinette had.

“And what about Chat Noir? What was he doing during all of this?”

Adrien immediately paid more attention when he heard his alter ego’s name. No one could blame him for wanting to know what people thought of him, right? People’s opinions on Chat Noir were kind of interesting. While most people agreed that Ladybug had been a valuable and competent hero, what they thought about Chat Noir was really varied. Some people found him useless and immature, others said he was skilled and funny. They either loved him or hated him. Adrien had found a lot of arguments about it online. He probably shouldn’t read them since they usually made him either really angry or really sad, but it was hard to stop once he had started. He could only hope that his friends had good opinions of him.

“Oh! He was so wonderful!” Rose said and a huge smile appeared on Adrien’s lips. “He was playing with the kids, and joking with all of us. He just made all of us feel better, I wasn’t scared at all when he was talking to us!”

Juleka nodded at that. “Yeah. Once when I was freaking out during an akuma attack he stopped and talked to me for a minute and made me calm down” she smiled a little. “He was really awesome”

Adrien’s heart warmed at their words. When he was talking to civilians during akuma attacks, all he wanted was to make them feel a little better and a little safer. He was happy to know it had worked.

The interview was over just a few minutes later, and everyone stood up. Nino immediately made his way over to Alya and started making comments about camera angles and lighting. While the two of them bickered in the background, Juleka, Luka and Rose came over to Adrien and Marinette. Rose squealed as soon as she reached them, and grabbed Juleka’s arm.

“You’re so cute together! Aren’t they just adorable, Jules?”

Juleka smiled. “Yeah. It’s about time, too”

Adrien blushed and rubbed his neck awkwardly at the attention, while Marinette didn’t seem bothered at all. She just groaned loudly and flopped against his side dramatically.

“I know, right?” she said with a slight nudge in his side. “I put so much time into getting him to notice me, I deserve to reap the benefits now.”

Adrien chuckled, having heard a few stories about Marinette’s attempts to ask him out when they were teenagers. Based of off Rose and Juleka’s expressions though, he could guess there were a lot more attempts than the ones he had been told.

“You two really are awesome together.” Luka broke up the grimacing by saying, with that ever-present, easy-going smile. “You create such a harmonious melody. I would play it, but Alya said I wasn’t allowed to have my guitar anywhere near during the interview.”

This roused a few giggled around the group. Luka’s constant guitar playing was a well-known, inside joke in their friend group at this point. Adrien could still remember him playing even in the middle of akuma attacks. Which, of course, made the snake miraculous with its lyre for a weapon perfect for him.

What was even more perfect, was that Luka wanted to play a melody representing Adrien and Marinette, which meant that he was totally okay with them together, which meant Nino was wrong.

“I guess you’ll just have to play it for us another time” Adrien said once the laughter died down.

“Absolutely” Luka smiled back.

Take that, Nino.

“That’d be awesome, Luka” Marinette said while standing up. “Right now, though, I believe I was promised ice cream” she turned to look at Adrien and pulled his hand.

He stood up after her and put an arm around her shoulders. They hadn’t been together for very long, but the way they fit together already felt so natural. It was probably because of the fact that they had known each other for so long. At this point, Adrien truly felt like it was meant to be. Especially, when she smiled at him the way she was doing right now.

“Of course, princess!” he said enthusiastically and her smile only shined brighter because of it.

They quickly said goodbye to their friends and started their walk towards André’s ice cream cart. Marinette was talking animatedly about her latest projects, mostly about the design for Audrey Bourgeois. She kept going on about how she felt like she was so close to the perfect design, but just couldn’t quite get there and how frustrating that was. All Adrien could do as he listened to her, was smile. He loved hearing her talk. He loved how passionate she got, how her eyes sparkled and how she did so much problem-solving on the spot, just by talking about it. She was so clever and creative. He just loved… her.

They might have only been together for a couple of weeks, but she was sure. He loved her. He probably had for a long time before he realized himself. He had just been too hung up on Ladybug when they were younger to understand that what he felt for Marinette, was love. And he really wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell everyone. If he could, he would gladly broadcast across the entire world that he was in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng!

But he was scared. Adrien had never been one to shy away from proclamations of love before, Ladybug could attest to that. This however, was so different from the whole Ladybug, and even Kagami thing. This was so much more real. There were no barriers between him and Marinette. No secret identities or controlling parents. It was just them. And it was wonderful. Adrien didn’t want to lose that by going all in if Marinette wasn’t ready for it. Which is why he had resolved to following her lead. He didn’t mind it. He would gladly follow her anywhere.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrinette #adrienette #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #luka couffaine #ml juleka #ml rose #julrose #djwifi #my stuff #fanfiction #i finally wrote more of this #i'm proud of myself

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curiocrab · 4 years

Text

I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS

I have seen plenty of hot takes and crummy opinions about this situation and I wanna talk about it.

HOW THEY ARE NOW: WHAT IS THIS?

These are some new “hip” “hello-fellow-kids” teen superheroes by Marvel. ““Safespace”” (who i’ll call “Pink” for now) is a “big, burly, sort of stereotypical jock” as described by their official bio and can create force fields for anyone but himself. ““Snowflake”” (who i’ll call “Blue” for now) is non-binary and can create ice shuriken. From the bio, we know that their story will be them dealing with the social issues surrounding the non binary community.

This would be good IF that wasn’t the only characterization they had. Instead, Blue and Pink are described in their bio as being obnoxious social geniuses, “hyper aware of modern culture and optics”, and just for extra “rEliaBiLITy”, as quoted from their official bio, “They’re probably streaming this.” They feel like what older people think is cool with the kids, like a PSA mascot who punches drug addiction in the face and flies away with his catchphrase “Don’t do drugs, Fam!” or “Drugs are NOT LIT, ok boomer?”

Correct me if i’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure nobody would want the only major representatives of their community in an otherwise oppressive and excessively masculine field to be unlikable douche bags. Why can’t they just be normal, maybe even (heavens forbid) LIKABLE characters with real human emotions and experiences?

We don’t have much more than their bio’s to draw from but we do have a picture and you know what they say, “A picture is worth a thousand words.”

THIS is OFFICIAL ART from the OFFICIAL WEBSITE!

WTH!?

Correct me if i’m wrong, but THIS looks like a weak, frail, surprisingly feminine non-binary person turning to their strong, confident, masculine partner for comfort and protection because they’re too weak to face their own problems. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought the nature of safe spaces is not to patronize and baby people but to support and encourage.

This is ENTIRELY CONTRARY to the message Marvel is trying to put forth! If they’re trying to support and display the community as strong and worthy of recognition, THIS is not doing that AT ALL! What’s gonna happen is comic readers uneducated in this field will see this character, hate them because they’re unlikable, and see non-binary people as weak and in need of a masculine pillar of protection.

This is HORRIBLE representation.

I would like to propose what they COULD have done and maybe, still can be done to save these characters.

FIXING THEM: PHYSICALLY

I have seen many videos critiquing and bashing these characters and I found them to be … misguided (I won’t name names). People have expressed dissatisfaction with their powers and designs, comparing them to other marvel heroes.

This is unfair. these characters are just kids. they don’t have to have Hulk or even spider man level power. They are crime fighting teens, working the small time, not universe-devouring god-killers. I think these limited powers are cool and interesting. They necessitate creative and interesting combat and problem solving.

In action it could be like this, Blue is agile and mainly on offense, dealing tons of damage and applying pressure, hardly worrying about defense. This is because Pink runs alongside them, keeping up and fending for himself as he casts barriers for Blue when necessary based off their psychic synchronization.

Alternatively, Pink could be on the offense while Blue darts around, getting in the enemies way so that Pink could cast a barrier over Blue. It would effectively be an agile shield orbiting and protecting Pink who deals massive damage without much concern in regards to defense. Blue could keep up some pressure and add chip damage from behind the barrier with their shuriken.

Their design on the other hand, is honestly dumb

They’ve got soft, boring silhouettes that are far too similar. The skin tight clothes are classic marvel style but are super outdated and honestly the worst. The matching hair is dumb and stupid.

I have seen some alternate designs by other more talented artists. Unfortunately, some of them are horrible and betray the characters and their overall message.

It’s very well made and the artist is super talented, but it plays into the hyper sexual old Marvel comics and makes Blue ultra feminine, something i’m sure the original artist and writer where desperate not to do, instead making Blue into an amorphous lump.

I have made my own redesign that I hope is closer to the writer and artist’s vision.

I gave them stark contrast and distinguished silhouettes. I tried hard to give the two of them more personality. Hopefully, you can all agree that it’s better than the original.

That was pretty simple, but now, I’ve got to do something about their douchbagieness

FIXING THEM: CHARACTER-WISE

To begin, let’s get better names. I saw some awesome new names from SpyV on youtube in their video “Redesigning “Snowflake” and “Safespace” | Marvel’s New Warriors Blunder”. The names they used were “Hail” for “Snowflake” and “Haven” for “Safespace”.

Now for their story. I don’t want them to feel like hokey PSA mascots, spouting slogans to the youth like “Be nice” or “Don’t be homophobic”. I want them to be actual people and characters.

These two are students at highschool. (grade 11/12) Haven is a crowd pleasing jock, valued for his physical ability and his participation on the football team. Though not exceptional, his stature and teamwork skills make him an invaluable asset that everyone loves out of necessity more than anything else.

Hail is as witty, snappy, confident person who stands up for their immediate friend group and the LGBT+ community in their school. They are still subject to the social conflicts and abuse that arise due to being non-binary in the socially harsh highschool environment. Due to the constant micro-aggression, Hail has grown abrasive and unapproachable as a self defense mechanism. The only person they can be genuine with is their brother, Haven.

These two share a psychic bond that allows a deep level of emotional sympathy between the two. Hail vents to Haven and relies on his emotional support. Haven tries his best to help but Hail’s circumstance is so different from his own that he can’t do much more than listen and accept Hail for who they are. Haven provides a safe space where Hail can be genuine, recuperate, and process their emotions during the tumultuous time that is highschool.

Hail is supported by Haven’s acceptance rather than his confidence and masculinity. Haven never white-knights for Hail and tries to solves their problems for them but, rather, provides support, acceptance, and encouragement, allowing Hail to fight their own battles.

Maybe, later on in their arc - hear me out here - Haven discovers that he is gay and is thus ostracized by his peers at school and their roles are reversed. Hail must be a supportive and encouraging figure for Haven as his world changes around him.

In regards to their super hero team, perhaps someone in the team could act as a foil to Hail, being maybe not so subtly anti-LGBT+.(*cough*cough-screentime-cough*cough*) Maybe Haven is gay for one of the other members (B negative maybe?) and the feeling arn’t mutual and it’s kinda awkward but that’s the whole point. Sometimes, a crush is just a crush and it’s not meant to be and that’s part of growing up.

In the end, they both graduate and realize that all the drama from their school days is gone. They realize how big the world is and move forward, forging a better world.

CONCLUSION

I really hope that those comics arn’t absolute garbage and the LGBT+ community can get some decent representation. Correct me for anything weird or inaccurate I said. Please don’t obliterate the writers or the artists. Thanks for reading.

#marvel #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbt representation #lgbtq representation #lgbt+#lgbtq+#lgbt+ representation #lgbtq+ representation #marvel comics #comic #comics #redesign #rewrite

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hufflly-puffs · 5 years

Text

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Chapter 37: The Lost prophecy

The entire conversation between Harry and Dumbledore in this chapter remains one of my favourite in the entire season. Something J.K. Rowling is extremely good at is to write about loss and grief. In a way Harry experiences it for the first time – he was too young when his parents died and Cedric’s death left him in shock, but then again they didn’t really knew it each other. This time it is different. And my reading experience changed, because I have experienced a loss similar like Harry (like Rowling, who had lost her mother shortly before she started writing the Potter series) between the first time I read the book as a teenager and now again as an adult. It might be because Rowling had lost a parent that so much about Harry’s grief resonates with me. It feels real.

“It was his fault Sirius had died; it was all his fault. If he, Harry, had not been stupid enough to fall for Voldemort’s trick, if he had not been so convinced that what he had seen in his dream was real, if he had only opened his mind to the possibility that Voldemort was, as Hermione had said, banking on Harry’s love of playing the hero … It was unbearable, he would not think about it, he could not stand it … there was a terrible hollow inside him he did not want to feel or examine, a dark hole where Sirius had been, where Sirius had vanished; he did not want to have to be alone with that great, silent space, he could not stand it –“ – Sirius’s death is not what causes Harry’s depression, but it certainly factors to it. The anxiety, the impossibility to escape your own thoughts, and how he blames himself for Sirius’s death, despite all logic and rational thought saying he can’t be blamed. And it is what makes things even worse – not just losing Sirius, but the circumstances, that Harry fall for Voldemort’s trap, that it was the love they felt for each other that brought both Harry and Sirius to the Department of Mysteries to save the other. That Harry should have known better, that Hermione (who always represent logic and rational thought) even warned him it could be a trap. Harry let his heart decide for him, he did what he felt was right. And whenever we make a mistake because we let our heart decide for us we feel foolish and weak. Dumbledore will tell Harry later that it was his heart that saved him, but to Harry it is his heart that failed him.

“The guilt filling the whole of Harry’s chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite, now writhed and squirmed. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being himself any more … he had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody, anybody, else …” – The thing about Harry is that the moment he entered the Wizarding World, the moment he learned he was famous, he has always been confronted with the image others have of him. The boy who lived, the tragic hero. In the last year he has been portrayed as a liar, mentally unstable, attention seeking. He has never let himself defined by these things, knowing they are not true. Now though he sees himself different: as the one responsible for Sirius’s death. He never claimed to be a hero, but it has never been less true than now. Ironically it is his hero-complex, as Hermione calls it, that brought all of his friends in danger, that did cost Sirius his life (at least from Harry’s perspective). It is unbearable to connect himself with the image of a hero others have painted of him, now that he has made a terrible mistake, that he did not save the day, but is the one who brought everyone in danger in the first place.

“‘I know how you’re feeling, Harry,’ said Dumbledore very quietly. ‘No, you don’t,’ said Harry, and his voice was suddenly loud and strong; white-hot anger leapt inside him; Dumbledore knew nothing about his feelings.” – Dumbledore of course has experienced loss and grief himself, but he also knows how it feels to think you are responsible for someone’s else death, as he blames himself for his sister’s death. But Harry does not know this, and he does not ask Dumbledore either, because we always feel like our pain is individual, like nobody could ever know how we really feel. Grief and loss are very personal feelings, because everybody experiences them in a different way, and at times it feels like it creates a barrier between yourself and the rest of the world.

“‘Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human –’ ‘THEN – I – DON’T – WANT – TO – BE – HUMAN!’ Harry roared […] ‘I DON’T CARE!’ Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. ‘I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANY MORE –’ He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions. ‘You do care,’ said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. ‘You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.’” – This always reminds me of a poem by Mary Oliver, “The Uses of Sorrow”: “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.” Dumbledore, in his age and wisdom, knows that experiencing pain the way Harry does, is part of being human, or as he even says it is a proof of being human (and therefore would make Voldemort unhuman). We can’t understand pain like this when we right in the middle of it. Harry experiences it for the first time really and he feels like he will never get over it, like nothing will ever be whole again, that this is the final straw. In time he will learn that you can live with the pain, but you never get used to it. And once he understands what Voldemort has done to his soul, he will understand Dumbledore’s words and what a great gift it is to feel that deeply.

“Voldemort’s aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight, would not have been my destruction. It would have been yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him.” – But in the end that is exactly what happens: Dumbledore sacrifices Harry in order to kill Voldemort. And that might have been a part of Dumbledore’s plan as well: that after this night Voldemort was convinced that Dumbledore would never do such a thing, that when Harry sacrificed himself in the end Voldemort never assumed that it was part of Dumbledore’s plan.

“‘Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry,’ said Dumbledore.” – It is interesting that it was Sirius who told Harry that in order to understand someone’s true nature you should look how they treat their inferiors not their equals. Of course Sirius did not hate Kreacher because he is a house elf, but rather because he was a constant reminder of the family/home he hated so much. He could not show Kreacher even the simplest form of respect. And house-elves, bound to their families, always become a product of how their masters treat them. And Dumbledore, unlike Voldemort and many other wizards, never underestimated house-elves. They are individuals, they have feelings, and they have magic of their own. And they are always overlooked, which can make them incredible dangerous.

“ ‘Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well – not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle’s doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years.’” – I think this is the first time someone actually acknowledges in words the abuse Harry had to endure. That what happened to him was neither right or fair, despite Dumbledore explaining the reason why he had to stay with the Dursleys.

“Did I believe that Voldemort was gone for ever? No. I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty or fifty years before he returned, but I was sure he would do so, and I was sure, too, knowing him as I have done, that he would not rest until he killed you.” – Imagine though it would have taken Voldemort 70 years to return, the book series would have been quite different.

“‘While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, whilst you are there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.’” – First, I still can’t believe that Dumbledore could not be bothered to explain this in person, that all he did was to write a letter. Second, the very complicated relationship Petunia has with her nephew. Harry claims that she does not love him, which might be true. Regardless she loved her sister. She took Harry in because her sister gave her life to protect him, because she knew that if she wouldn’t Harry would die. And yet Harry is a constant reminder of Lily, of Petunia’s loss, of all the complicated feelings she had towards Lily. And interesting enough both Petunia and Snape help to keep Harry alive, they both protect him in their own ways, but out of respect and love towards Lily, because he is her son, nothing more. It is not just her blood that protects Harry, but also the relationships Lily made while she was alive, the people who loved her.

“‘I cared about you too much,’ said Dumbledore simply. ‘I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act.” – Dumbledore thinks that his flaw, that the mistake that he made, was that he cared too much about Harry, that his happiness became more important than the lives of others. And many criticized Dumbledore for his final plan: that in the end Harry had to give his own life in order to defeat Voldemort. But this is exactly what this is about: that Harry’s life is no more important than the lives of thousands. Some see Dumbledore as cruel and manipulating, and perhaps they are right. But he still cares. He cares so much about Harry and yet he knows what he needs to ask of him, knows what it will take to end Voldemort. And one could ask what is more cruel: to sacrifice one live so thousands can live or to accept the pain of the many in exchange for one man’s happiness?

“I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all.” – I mean honestly, it is the most useless subject ever.

So, the prophecy. It reveals something that to the readers might be obvious, but this is the first time we actually hear it: that Harry is the only one who has the power to defeat Voldemort. And Harry of course is famous because he survived the Killing Curse, but perhaps he thought that there might not be a special reason why Voldemort wanted to kill him and his parents. After all Voldemort and his followers killed so many. Perhaps Harry thought Voldemort simply wanted to finish what he had started, that this time he wants to kill Harry because of what has happened to him. Maybe deep down Harry had wondered if there might be more about it, what the real reason was that Voldemort had considered a baby as a threat. If he did he probably ignored that thought, because as Dumbledore explains, it is an incredible burden to live with this knowledge.

Then of course there is the fact that it could have been Neville as well. There are many speculations what would have happened if Voldemort had chosen Neville instead. I always assumed that Alice Longbottom, just as Lily did, would have sacrificed herself for her son, giving Neville the same kind of protection Harry had. Neville would have still grown up with his grandmother (and through her blood he would be protected as well) though with even more pressure put upon him. But I always loved the fact that it could have been someone else, that in a way there was nothing special about Harry, and that of course the irony is that in choosing Harry Voldemort marked him as an equal and gave him the power to destroy him (though Voldemort of course was not aware of this, as he had not heard the whole prophecy). And Voldemort did not choose the son of two Aurors, the pureblood wizard, but Harry instead, the halfblood, because as Dumbledore explains, he saw himself in Harry.

The thing about prophecies is of course whether or not they become true, and in fiction they usually do, especially if people try to avoid their fate. Voldemort did not hear the full prophecy, he did not know that he would be the one to mark his enemy as an equal. The question is, if he had that knowledge and never had tried to kill Harry or Neville, could he have avoided his fate?

Also, we don’t know it yet, but of course it was Snape who had overheard the first part of the prophecy, which made me wonder what he was doing there in the first place. Was it a coincidence? Was he there on Voldemort’s order, spying on Dumbledore? And how come he would not know or figure out that the prophecy could refer to Lily’s son, and therefore would put her in danger by telling Voldemort about it?

“In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you.” – Harry has never been and will never be the most talented wizard, but that did not matter. It does not matter how advanced the magic is that Voldemort works. It is Harry’s ability to love, and the love of his mother, that saves him. And that is something you can’t learn or achieve. If Voldemort has ever been able to love he successfully got rid of this ability. To him love is a weakness, something he never understood and always underestimated. And in Rowling’s work it is essential our ability to love what makes us human. And losing that has made Voldemort dead long before he actually died.

“‘So,’ said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, ‘so does that mean that … that one of us has got to kill the other one … in the end?’ ‘Yes,’ said Dumbledore.” – Just moments before Harry told Dumbledore that he doesn’t have powers like Voldemort does, that he can’t kill someone, and yet he has to or he will be killed. In the end however he defeated Voldemort without actually killing him, and I always loved that he didn’t have to become a murderer.

#Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix #the lost prophecy #chapter notes #ootp

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timetrickster · 5 years

Text

Aloha Oe X Edith Nox Crossover Episode 5: The Fates

As always I hope ye enjoy! @cometworks

Tag: @coloursintheblur , @thelysstener

EPISODE 5

The Fates

FADE IN:

INT. EDITH’S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT

JUSTIN & VIOLET return to EDITH’S home. EDITH & NOEMI both worried for their sudden disappearance.

EDITH

Where were you guys?! (She looks at Justin) You weren’t on the ship! (She looks at Violet) You weren’t at the Castle! We were worried sick.

They both don’t say a word but were extremely tired. EDITH uses her magic and senses fear in both JUSTIN & VIOLET.

EDITH (cont’d)

What happened?

VIOLET steps up and hugs her.

VIOLET

It’s back…

EDITH using her magic looked deeper into VIOLET’S feeling of fear. She sees an image of the glass dome with the Black Beast’s remnants. A deeper look showed the image of the Black Beast itself. A ghostly image of the monster looms over the dome. A red aura surrounds it, feeling wrath, rage, fury, and anger. It frightens EDITH to the point where she stops and is petrified in place.

EDITH

That’s… That’s impossible.

CUT TO

EXT. THE CASTLE’S TEMPLE OF THE FATES. NIGHT

EDITH had left the house and went to the Castle with VIOLET & JUSTIN behind her. The enter this old and ancient temple with statues of a Fox, an Owl, and a Cat. EDITH looks at all three and anger begins to surge within her. She starts her sentence with demand.

EDITH

Show yourselves! I demand your audience with you all!

A flash of white light drags all three of them into a different location. A gazebo with a dome structure as it’s roof and it’s pillars broken as specific places floating still being held by some sort of magic. The surroundings were of a starry and vast galaxy. The Fates were all standing it wait, figures of shadows covered in cloaks and wearing masks of their respective animals. An angry EDITH stood before them, VIOLET respectful to her gods bow and kneeled and JUSTIN unphased by all this looks on in curiosity.

FOX steps up annoyed by the presence of EDITH.

FOX

Well if it isn’t Edith Nox… what is it that you demand witch?

EDITH turns to FOX with a fake smile.

EDITH

A bitch as always Fox, good to see you.

FOX snarls at her, to which EDITH stares her down.

CAT

Stop.

FOX

Fine.

EDITH turn to CAT, finally a bit calm.

CAT

It’s good to see you, Edith. What happened?

EDITH looks to VIOLET who rises from her kneeling.

EDITH

The Black Beast has returned.

FOX, OWL, & CAT are shaking and puzzled by this news.

FOX

IMPOSSIBLE!

OWL

That cannot be.

CAT

How? The Black Beast is no longer connected to me. I feel no anger or rage anymore.

EDITH

What do you know of this?

OWL responds immediately with one of his riddles.

OWL

What is Greater than God, worse than evil, the poor have it, the rich require it and if you eat it you die?

EDITH puzzled by his constant riddles and vague statements, thinks to herself for a moment. JUSTIN steps into the conversation whilst he leans on a pillar arm crossed and a serious-faced.

JUSTIN

Nothing.

EDITH and the FATES look at him.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

They know nothing of this.

EDITH turns to CAT.

CAT

It is true. It is the first we’re all hearing of this news.

EDITH

How could it be back?

JUSTIN

Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another. Cat’s anger in this world formed the Black Beast. The black goo was a mental appearance of how Cat perceived itself in its rage. When you defeated the beast, the emotional energy remained without its host to fuel it. It’s just black goo with remnants of its anger.

Silence falls in this dimension after JUSTIN had stopped speaking.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

What?

OWL

Who are you?

FOX

This one… has no magic, but smells of a different power…

CAT

Who are you, stranger?

JUSTIN

My name is Justin Oras. I’m a Time Walker from the planet Chronos.

The FATES looked confused as to what he meant. He sighs.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

I’m from another universe.

THE FATES realizes his status.

CAT, OWL, & FOX

YOU ARE NOT OF THIS WORLD!

Their fury had risen at JUSTIN as the galaxy around them turned red as blood. He, however, was calm and unafraid of their fury. Having had to pleasure of facing gods and demons and beings beyond his universe and other dimensions.

JUSTIN

No, I’m not.

He stood his ground and held a face fearless against these celestial beings.

FOX

(It sneers at him) Your presence here disrupts the natural order of this universe! WHAT IS INTENT OF BEING HERE?

JUSTIN

I’m here to help save the world.

OWL

You exist now in a world, not yours, fix a problem that no knows. Yet come here standing in lands beyond and face the three from the far away and behind the light and the dark.

OWL speaks one of his vague statements toward JUSTIN.

CAT

The Universal Barriers were decreed close long ago. Your presence here is a broken law. We cannot let you leave without knowing your intent and purpose.

JUSTIN

What?! No. I stated my intent and purpose. I am here to help save this world from this new threat. Not to destroy it.

VIOLET rises from her bow.

VIOLET

He speaks the truth, Fates!

The FATES draw their eyes on her.

FOX

You defend this one princess?

VIOLET

I do. He is a warrior from his home universe. He is known as a hero to many from his travels. He has the spirit of the warrior, the heart of a hero. He is my friend and as a respect to him. He is a good man.

CAT

I see.

OWL

Strange yet powerful, they trust his heart, should we trust their words of wisdom?

FOX

As much as I hate the humans… there are a few exceptions, I trust their words.

CAT

We apologize for our harshness and fury, otherworlder. Our purpose is to protect this universe from threats beyond our own. Forgive us.

JUSTIN nods.

CAT (cont’d)

What more do you know of the return of the Black Beast?

VIOLET

During an investigation with Justin, we discovered a lair full of forbidden magic. It was then I recognized the black goo of the Black Beast in a glass dome. Dormant. Justin and I also discovered the name of this looming threat. Neydolya.

The FATES roars their respective sounds after hearing her name.

JUSTIN

You know who she is.

OWL

Someone knew eons ago but forgotten and banished to lands unknown. Destroyed believed but alive not… unknown returns come not.

EDITH

ENOUGH OF THE RIDDLES OWL! No more secrets! No more hidden knowledge! The truth, we want the truth.

CAT

Neydolya was our sister eons before we were three.

EDITH

What do you mean before you were three?

FOX

We were one being before our creation.

OWL

We were Neydolya’s sister, Dolya in the Old Era.

A projection image appears in the middle showing the three friends of the past. They are thrown into the past to see the visuals. Surrounded as if they were apart of history. CAT, OWL, & FOX’S voices become one as they tell the tale. Their voice appeared female as if they had become DOLYA.

DOLYA (V.O)

A long time ago, before we were three. I was Dolya, the twin sister to Neydolya. We were the original fates, that controlled over the destinies of this universe.

The past had shown the twin sisters doing their given purpose. Both sisters, creating strings of light and weaving millions upon millions of strings.

JUSTIN

What are the strings?

EDITH

They represent us… our presence, our being, our life.

DOLYA (V.O)

But one day while watching humanity during the Old Era. Our benevolent world created by us turned into a ruined world. As The Old Era brought destructions and separation amongst the humans, my sister’s heart was broken but was filled with rage and vengeance.

The past showed NEYDOLYA’S essence from white to full-on black as her rage grown against humanity. The next projection showed a battle between the two sisters.

DOYLA (V.O) (cont’d)

We eventually came to terms of which side we were on which led us to our battle.

The image showed DOLYA winning the battle, NEDYOLYA presumably falling into the galaxies down below assumed dead. DOLYA cries in her victor feeling the pain of having to kill her own sister.

DOLYA (V.O) (cont’d)

The results took a toll of her as her pain led her to the decision of the creation of the New Fates. To lead the world below us into a better and peaceful world.

The images disappear and DOLYA reverts back into CAT, OWl, & FOX.

EDITH

How come you never told me this? Not even Clementine?!

CAT

Edith, there are secrets of the universe that we cannot share.

EDITH

What good did that do?! Clementine died because of you Cat!

VIOLET

Edith!

EDITH & VIOLET stare each other down.

EDITH

She died Violet… your sister died because of them!

VIOLET

I know.

EDITH

I am tired of all this destiny crap! Everything that prophecy had to be put on me! ME! The one person who didn’t want any of this saves the world bullshit! I just wanted to live my life in peace tending to my garden!

JUSTIN’S eyes glow orange and see EDITH’S aura flaring up with red. He walks up to her and places his hand on her shoulder.

JUSTIN

Edith.

She comes face to face with JUSTIN’S glowing eyes as her magic and his ability connect.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

You’re angry. I know it’s infuriating and I know you told me about your dream to have a simple life and the fact you hate where everything is on your shoulders. But it’s your world and it’s calling for you to be one of its heroes.

EDITH’S rage overcomes her senses.

EDITH

I DON’T WANT ANY OF THIS!

Her eyes glow red instantly she becomes the embodiment of her Wrath & Anger. JUSTIN now worried tries to hit a certain point in her body. She blocks it, which surprises JUSTIN even more. With surprising fury, she kicks him hard enough into a pillar to which VIOLET responds with a fight. First blasting her ice magic which had no effect due to her newfound embodiment magic.

EDITH (cont’d)

I’M WARNING YOU, DON’T STOP FIGHT ME.

Her voice had turned evil and menacing, she became a WRATHFUL EDITH.

VIOLET

Sorry, Edith but I have too.

She whips both arms summoning her ice magic hands. JUSTIN gets up, dusting off his the shoulder of his long coat. Summoning his power of time. Their fight begins with the FATES watching from a safe distance.

JUSTIN

Edith, we don’t want to fight.

EDITH makes the first move in the fight. To which experienced fighters both JUSTIN & VIOLET immediately block. They make their counter attacks as VIOLET hits her in on her left side making her lean toward the left. JUSTIN forms his right hand like a snake, striking certain points on her right arm. To which she starts to lose the feeling of it as it was going numb and turning to jelly.

EDITH kicks VIOLET off of her as held and blocked against her left arm. She clenches her left fist which starts to combust rage in the form of fire. Raising it to fight JUSTIN & VIOLET who gets up from the kick. With her burning rage, she managed to regain control of her right arm. Raising as well and holding fire in both hands.

JUSTIN

Here we go again.

They both rush at EDITH who surprisingly managed to hold her own in fist fight round two. Managing to block all of JUSTIN’S punches and pressure point attacks. As well as shaking off VIOLET’S ice magic with ease. Both knocked down and EDITH knocks out VIOLET quickly. She slowly walks to a beaten JUSTIN.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

Edith, please, this isn’t you.

WRATHFUL EDITH

I know, but it is now.

She raises her right fist aiming for his chest, JUSTIN shakes his head. From his point of view, time is slowed down, just as she strikes. JUSTIN blocks with his right arm which burns his skin. He smiles in satisfaction, his hand holds a ball of blue light. Which he hand closes and time rewinds itself.

Unaffected JUSTIN gets up and cracks a few bones, time rewinds to the start of round two which JUSTIN now has the upper hand. He snaps his fingers, time continues and counters every attack previously thrown.

CAT

Interesting… the otherworlder controls time.

OWL

Fascinating yet wonder fills the mind. Possibility of what we create… can we recreate?

FOX

Agreed… we could use this.

VIOLET freezes the WRATHFUL EDITH’S feet in place. JUSTIN dodges her fireballs and flaming fists and uses pressure point attacks again on her. She loses control of her now jelly body to which VIOLET holds her by her right shoulder.

VIOLET

I’m sorry Edith.

She knocks her out cold to which she lets her fall and JUSTIN catches her from falling. The color of red and emotion of rage disappear from her skin. VIOLET kneels down to care for EDITH. The Fates return to the gazebo and return them to the temple.

FADE TO BLACK

END EPISODE 5

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iamartemisday · 6 years

Text

Lokane Week Day 1 (Science and Magic)

A/N: Happy Lokane Week everyone! For the occasion, here are some unwritten days from Lokiday. There will be seven in all and will take place at various points in Loki and Jane's journey.

This one is set during the events of chapter ten, Days 25-65.

Hope you enjoy!

Day 32

Jane Foster

Every inhabitant of the observatory, long-term or otherwise, is allowed enough personal items to fill a medium-sized container stored under their beds. Going over that limit was grounds for a write-up. Repeat offenders risked docked pay or even expulsion, depending on Dr. Ahlberg's mood. She typically fluctuates between sour and really sour, making it even more important to follow her rules.

At least in theory.

The amount of books Loki magicks from the twenty-four other dorm rooms is enough to fill three very high bookshelves. The kind one would need a ladder to reach the top of. They come in a variety of languages from English to French to German to Russian. One appears to be in Japanese. Most are in Norwegian, but with a wave of Loki's hand, all the words turn to English. Jane reads every title; most of them have nothing to do with that she needs. She shakes her head and whistles regardless.

"That's unreal," she says, hating that she has to compliment Loki of all people. "A spell like that… you could eradicate all language barriers!"

"I suppose," Loki says, picking up a mystery novel and flipping through it.

Jane waits and he has nothing more to say. Of course, he doesn't. Magic is a parlor trick to him.

She picks up the nearest book and stuffs her face in it. He will not get any sort of rise out of her today. Jane Foster is a woman of science, taciturn and focused. That she is currently holding a holiday cookbook and it's upside down will not be acknowledged. Jane stealthily switches it out for a science textbook after memorizing the last three steps of a gingerbread cookie recipe.

Five minutes pass before she gives in and looks. Loki is flipping through the pages of his book way too fast to actually be reading them. At least she hopes so.

"Find anything interesting?" he asks. There's a smirk in his words though he keeps it off his face.

"More than you," Jane retorts. "You were useful for two seconds there. Why not make it a pattern?"

Loki tsks. "Come now, Jane. Don't you want to know the identity of Mr. Ratchett's killer?"

"They all did it. Everyone knows that."

"I didn't, but thank you for informing me."

He continues flipping and closes the back cover after another two minutes. Jane did not watch the time. She shuts him out as he mumbles something about the mediocre quality of Midgardian thinkers blah blah elitism blah. She wonders if she poked him with a pin, would he bleed or just expel a stream of concentrated hot gas.

"You should try And Then There Were None next," she drones, "probably her best work."

"If you say so." Loki ignores the rest of the books and stretches out on her bed. At no point did she allow this, but trying to drag him off would only get her dragged in and she was extremely not in the mood right now.

(Okay maybe she's kind of in the mood but that's just the stress talking.)

"You don't get answers overnight." She reads the table of contents. Biology, geology, botany, meteorology, oceanography… all equally represented within the pages of this fist thick tome. All equally useless. The only section on physics is so basic, a high school freshman would laugh at it. "You just don't. It takes patience. Trial and error. Nothing just happens in the real world. This isn't a movie."

"Are you talking to me?" He glances over his nose. His eyes have barely moved, yet she feels them burning her. "Or has your mind finally snapped under the pressure."

"You wish," Jane says. "You're just pissy because I won't buy into your 'the end is nigh' BS and get lazy like you."

His jaw twitches. "I assume 'pissy' is a term for frustration?" He sits up, knocking one neatly stacked pile of books into a replica of the leaning tower of Pisa. "I can't deny there are more productive ways to spend the day."

He gives her a look, but he hasn't used that voice, so Jane is immune. Mostly.

"It's a term for 'shut up so I can concentrate." She picks up another book. The Art of Kamasutra. She puts it down.

"Somehow, I doubt that." He stands and Jane turns away from him. His shadow falls over her, as she knew it would. She had hoped despite knowing it was hopeless, that he'd grow bored of her and leave her in peace for the day. Loki Laufeyson doesn't know peace, though. Or if he does, only so he can destroy it. His hands come around her waist and she tenses. She tries not to, but they both know the effect he has on her body. Her most sensitive nerve endings respond to him from twenty feet away. Donald Blake had to stick his tongue in her mouth and get her bra off before she was this turned on. "Tell me your theory."

"Don't have one," Jane says (not moans). "Not yet."

"Then tell me a theory." He breathes in her ear. She whimpers. Fuck. "I know your people have them."

"Casual loops." She squeaks the second word as he brushes the small of her back. She never knew she was ticklish there before Loki. "Past events create future events create past events."

"Explain."

"Like if someone from the future tries to kill you," she breathes through her mouth and squeezes her legs together. He plays with her buttons. "Because in the future you do something important that they want to prevent, but in trying to kill you, they end up giving you the tools to do that something in the future. It creates a time loop. You wouldn't know your destiny if not for that person trying to change it."

"Fascinating," he says as though he means it, "though I don't believe it applies to us."

"It doesn't. Too many variables in constant flux," Jane says. "We change things every day, only the way we wake up stays the same."

"So what you're saying…" he leans in and bites her earlobe. She sighs and falls limp in his arms. "...is that your current line of reasoning is useless."

"Fuck you."

"Language."

"Fuck you harder."

"I will fuck you harder, yes." He kisses her neck. His lips are like fire. "So hard, you'll never even think another man's name again."

A specific male name doesn't come up, but Jane hears it anyway. It's a little pathetic, and a little sad.

"I don't think so." She summons the last vestiges of her willpower and pushes him off. She backs away and only now feels the tidal wave of sweat on her brow. It's like she's been waterlogged.

Loki certainly notices. "You do seem quite put out."

"I'm working. Today is a work day, not a play day." For added emphasis, Jane sits and grabs another book. It's an exotic plants guidebook. Close enough. "You can do whatever you want, but I am not sleeping with you today."

She sleeps with him the next day.

(The Kamasutra book may have been involved.)

#Lokane #Jane Foster #Loki #Lokane Week 2018 #Science and Magic

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mazojo · 6 years

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Kiznaiver Review

I just finished the Kiznaiver anime and I am not okay, so I decided to do a review with my opinions and thoughts on it, so beware the spoilers and rants on different aspects of it ;w;

Spoiler Free Overview ~

Before actually going into the spoilers, I wanted to leave a little spoiler free plot overview for those interested but not convinced on watching it. Basically Kiznaiver is about 7 teenagers connected by an experiment to their wounds and pain, making the pain of one, that of the others. The anime follows the story of these teenagers and their friendship with the mystery of the experiment and the future of it in their city, making it emotional and addictive to watch.

Although there is a lot more to say, if you don’t want to be spoiled on the anime do not click on read more but if you don’t mind, go ahead <33

Plot

So as mentioned above, the anime consists on the union of 7 characters (representing the 7 sins) through the Kizna system/experiment which bonds them through their pain so if one gets hurt, the other six will feel the pain too. Each of the teenagers choose represents one of the deadly sins, which I will go into further in my description of each character, and they all have to work together throughout the summer in order to free themselves from their Kizna. Everything is running smoothly and they all become friends until some of them begin falling in love with others and it all kind of crumbles. In the final episodes we discover that the experiments have been running for a while and in the past, they were done to kids but it failed miserably as some gathered too much pain from the others while others didn’t, making them feel numb and emotionless. Our main character, Katsuhira was originally connected to the first kizna experiment but became numb to any sort of pain due to another kid (now leading the project?) named Noriko taking all the pain. In the end, Katsuhira is able to convince Noriko to give back his pain and those from the other kids involved in the experiment through a f r i e n d s h i p speech and the whole group ends up becoming much closer, with Katsuhira and Noriko confessing their feelings to each other.

Characters

okay, so I will admit I kind of may have fallen in love with some of the characters from this anime and I am going to list them in order of which I liked the most explaining a bit on who they are and what I believe they must be protected. I also decided to place a song that reminds me of them in order for you to gather a feel of who they are in my opinion.

Katsuhira Agata (Kacchon)

Rise - Ashes Remain

So this gif pretty much describes his attitude and face throughout the whole series (except the two times he actually cries). His sin is “sloth” but referred in the anime as “the imbecile”. This is due to his apathetic behavior to everything happening around him due to the lack of emotions he has. He is precious and even as a kid he has always been looking for those around him (even in his kind of oblivious way) and I love how even after going through everythingg he went through, he is able to forgive Noriko and even loves her with all her faults and imperfections <33.

Nico Niiyama

Hello Kitty - Avril Lavigne

She is one of those characters you either love or hate, and I absolutely looove Nico! She represents the sin of greed I believe due to her wanting of attention and reassurance. I don't know if its because I see myself in her craziness or just her whole attitude throughout the series but Nico is in top place with Kacchon for my favorite characters. She is much more than the I-am-cute-love-me character as we advance through the series we began seeing her need to find friends in those surrounding her and how desperate she tries to fit into this “eccentric girl” stereotype to fit in (if that makes any sense). I also loved how she was one of the first to come back and unite the group after their Kiznas were released even though she was hurting over Tenga, which I thought was really brave and a bit underrated, thanks for coming to my ted talk.

Yoshiharu Hisomu

Highway to Hell - AC/DC

So hear me out, Hisomu is a bit of a weirdo but through the small things he did and said he was able to win me over. Hisomu represents the sin of lust as he is a masochist and finds pleasure over the pain inflicted upon himself. I was a bit skeptical over his character as he appeared on the third episode unlike the others but he grew on me. Not only do I l o v e his character design but I think he has a personal growth over acquiring friends. He is close to Kacchon and never “abandons” him or leaves after all the others decide to part their own ways. Yeah, he may be a bit apathetic and unconscious towards the situations surrounding the others but I think in his heart he is actually a really good friend and sappy as it sounds, he cares deeply about the others and their suffering ;w;

Chidori Takashiro

Camouflage - Selena Gomez

Chidori is our tsundere-ish character. She represents the sin of envy as she is always second best when it comes to her unrequited love towards Kacchon. I really like her character and I feel bad for her as she often throughout the anime feels things very deeply and through Kacchon’s apathetic attitude, she mostly ends up hurt.I enjoyed her reactions as I know in the situations they face, I would definitely react similarly and she is very lovable overall.

Tsuguhito Yuta

Someone you Like - The Girl and the Dreamcatcher

Yuta is a classical popular kid with a soft side character. He represents the sin of gluttony as when he was little he used to eat a lot thus was seen as the fat kid and becomes kind of obsessed with his appearance after the fact. He may seem superficial at first but he is very caring and notices a lot of things others take for granted (like being able to be there for Maki even though she is a tough nut to crack). Also being a fellow cancer according to the wikia he went up my list :3. That being said I felt his character was all about Maki and he never really shined if there wasn’t any Maki story line involve which was kind of sad as I thought he had a lot of potential, but I still love him <33

Noriko Sonozaki

Never Enough - Loren Allred

Noriko is a weird character to me, as in some moments I really like her while in others I don’t really understand her. She has undergone a lot through her childhood due to experiencing the pain of her friends altogether and the constant fear of being left alone and not being understood even though Kacchon often reassures her of this but whatever. She may seem kind of like a psychopath and cold at the beginning but as we learn about her past I guess her behavior is kind of understandable but honestly I prefer the kid Sonozaki version which is adorableee. I like her relationship with Kacchon however and how they are able to grow from each other through their connection.

Honoka Maki

I Found - Amber Run

Maki and Tenga are my least favorite from the group but I don’t totally dislike them, I just don’t connect with he way they act most of the time. Maki represents the sin of pride as she often acts as if she is above everyone and everything going on around her placing a barrier between her and the other Kiznaivers. She has a rough past as she wrote a manga with her best friend Ruru and through their friendship feelings began developing. Ruru had a terminal illness and as Maki was afraid of getting hurt decided to cut all ties with her, which brings her to be the coldhearted person she is. Throughout the series she often rejects the other Kiznaivers refusing to call them friends inserts dramatic eye-roll until at the end she realizes its inevitable and accepts letting people in slowly.

Hajime Tenga

Counting Stars - One Republic

Honestly Tenga is pretty neutral to me and I don’t have much an opinion on his character. He represents the sin of Wrath as he often acts impulsively and resolves his issues through rage and anger acting with his fist rather than his head. He is quite loud and a bit obnoxious at times with his tough guy act but he means good. We don’t get much backstory on him other than he is afraid of dogs? which isn’t mentioned again after the second episode sooo… I mean he is a good character and has good intentions but I more often than not don’t understand his reactions and think he goes a bit over the top in most of them.

Ships

Although I know Kiznaiver isn’t an anime focused completely on the romance but rather a science-fiction/mystery kind of anime, I still had to mention the ships through the series starting from the one I like the most. Also note that some of them are non cannon so keep that in mind and note that this are my personal opinions ;w;

NicoxHisomu (non-cannon)

You can’t even understand HOW MUCH I WANTED THIS TO BE A THING. From the moment Hisomu appeared and had the first interaction with the group I wanted him and Nico to end together sooo badly. I don’t know if its because of their eccentric ways or how they are often looked upon as the weird ones from the group, but I always thought they would make such a cute couple! Even at the end when Nico is ranting on about Tenga, Hisomu is attentive to her and I honestly think their friendship is so pure and perfect ;w; I will be crying in the corner until this becomes a thing.

NorikoxKatsuhira (cannon)

Although I will forever be frustrated that NicoxHisomu didn’t end up together trigger please consider making a second season, I am actually really glad these two did! It was pretty obvious the two wouldd en up being cannon as the whole show premise basically concentrates in their relationship, and I am glad they did. I feel like both complement each other very well and stabilize one another through their feelings (or in this case, the lack of). I feel like both Katsuhira and Nori are very mature and overall I love their pairing as they both deserve all the happiness <33

ChidorixTenga (Cannon-ish?)

I really like this two together and I feel like through the finale we can kind of maybe say its cannon? I mean they never actually confessed their love to one another like Sonozaki and Kacchon (well, Tenga did), but Chidori kinda implied that she was starting to develop feelings? I totally feel like they work together as they level each other out by their protective mama bear attitude of Chidori and Tenga’s impulses leading to him being defensive of those he cares about. Also can we take a moment to appreciate their red aesthetic, like common they are adorable together.

MakixYuta (Cannon?)

This is also an odd pairing, as we see Yuta’s clear interest on Maki since episode 1 and where she only corresponds his feelings at the end of episode 12. Although they never truly became a couple I believe they both like each other so its kind of cannon? I like how they both have rough pasts and they help each other grow from them (cue to Yuta’s scene at the beach were he runs in the water although he may look like a fool) and they level the other out.

ChidorixKatsuhira (non-cannon)

The following two ships are ones I don’t like but I found important to mention as many people do ship them. I honestly can’t see this pair due to Katsuhira’s strong feelings towards Nori. I feel like he sees Chidori as her best friend and will never be able to see her as more than that. Chidori’s often explosive and overprotective character just doesn’t mash well with Kacchon’s laid back apathetic vibe, which is why I wouldn’t see this pairing working at all.

NicoxTenga (non-cannon)

I do not approve of this. I honestly can’t see this working and lets be honest Nico and Hisomu deserve each other so I am too blinded by that. I think their personalities wouldn’t work as Tenga is too aggressive and Nico much softer. I feel like Tenga is most of the times confused by her behavior or just doesn’t understand her eccentric behaviors which would definitely cause a problem if this were to be cannon. I can’t with this ship and if there is a season 2 I really hope this doesn’t become cannon otherwise ill just go cry myself in a corner.

To finish off this review on Kiznaiver, I would like to point out the things I like and the things I didn't like so much.

Liked…

- The characters is one of the things to really highlight from Kiznaiver. They are all so different but so lovable in their own ways and with their own faults which makes everything 10 times better.

- I haven’t been able to mention this before but I really liked the intro and outdo songs, I think they are catchy and represent quite well the anime.

- I adooored the character designs, specially Nico, Hisomu, Sonozaki and Katsuhira’s. I feel like the tones and designs of the characters with their little quirks really lets the audience gather who they are and why they are the way they are.

- I think the concept of the experiment and the characters being connected by their wounds and pain is very interesting! I dint know what to expect at first but as the story developed It really got me thinking what the Kizna system would look like in the real world.

Disliked…

- I feel like the character development could have been a little better for some of them? Specially Yuta, Tenga and Hisomu which even though we got to know, never really learned much about their past other than some random facts.

- The fact that Hisomu and Nico weren’t cannon

- Sometimes due to the small amount of time the creators had to create the episode, I feel like some things weren’t explained very clearly (like Sonozaki’s reasons to try committing suicide when she was young) but maybe its just me being dumb idkk

All in all, I really liked the anime and would definitely recommended to those who enjoy good characters and a little of science fiction as well as troublesome pasts. Remember this are just my opinions and feel free to ask me my opinions on anything related as well as I would love to hear all of yours :33

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thankyouorphanblack-blog · 7 years

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@sashafiercexo

Thank you Orphan Black

Holy Fricken Christmas Cake, where do I begin?

I never in my wildest imaginations thought that a television show could become such a huge part of my life, and it still amazes me to this day when I think about it.

Orphan Black is something I will never forget and it really brings me to tears knowing that this trip is almost over, that saying goodbye is right around the corner. I bet in 20, 30, even 50 years I’ll still be raving about it, the weird little clone show that meant the world to me, reminiscing constantly, and eagerly saying to people “hey you should watch orphan black!” I truly feel as if it is the only show I will ever hold close to my heart, and I honestly can’t even begin to find the right words to say thank you. I can’t begin to find the right words to express my gratitude and love for this show, or to merely explain what an imprint it has left in my life over the years. But, hopefully these words will do.

July 9th 2014 (Yes, I remember the day, I’m a sentimental goofball!) is a day I’ll never forget. I remember seeing recommendations for a show called Orphan Black and thought ‘hey, why not’. I heard about the critical praise and the main actress playing multiple characters so I gave it a go. Man, was I hooked! You’d be crazy not to with that opening scene. Never has a show captivated me and gathered my attention as quickly as OB. Jaw dropping television at its finest. I was screaming at the damn screen!

But it wasn’t until the iconic “you’re damn right” moment, Sarah transforming into Beth that sealed the deal for me. This was just the beginning. From then on, the surprises, shocks and twists never stopped and I was in complete awe of everything. From the crazy storylines to the mind-bending brilliance of Tatiana, the genre bending madness, and everything else in between.

Shortly after binging S1 and 2, I became the ultimate fan girl.

Getting all my friends & family to watch, having Orphan black birthday cakes, collecting the pop funkos, having posters on my walls, buying the Dvd’s, calendars, writing essays (personal and for school purposes) being infatuated and mesmerised by the scores, having in depth conversations about it, re watching a zillion times and so much more!

But it was beyond that, past the fangirling, that I found a deeper connection with this show. Reasons why it meant so much to me & still does years later. A few reasons why I will always treasure it. -

Little bucket of happiness- There was a time period in my life where I was at my lowest and loneliest. The last year of high school, friends would come and go and most days it was extremely hard to get out of bed. It was one of the hardest times for me, trapped in this spiral of depression that seemed to never end. Ironically, that was around the time I started watching Orphan Black. Orphan black coincidentally entered my life at a time when I needed it the most. It was an outlet for me - my little bucket of happiness. It was my safe space I could go to, making me smile and laugh when I needed to be cheered up. I had it to keep me going in this difficult time, to motivate me to study, and many sleepless nights I found myself watching episodes/cast videos/interviews etc. Even when I was alone at school lunchtimes I found myself watching episodes in the library on my phone. It just brought me this sense of comfort and joy unlike any other TV show I had ever watched. There’s a message about the show representing outsiders & putting them front and centre and I truly feel that’s one of the reasons I resonated with it so much. The deep sense of inclusion at a time when I felt like an outsider in my life. It was a show that comforted me in a dark time – and it’s been exactly that. Ever since then, during the highs and lows of my life within the past 3 years, Orphan Black has always been there, not just as my favourite TV show, but as my dose of happiness whenever I needed. It has remained as this constant uplifting part of my life, this outlet to make me smile and laugh, to make me feel included, and at times when I felt like giving up it gave me hope and reason to keep me going. I will always cherish this show because of that. As my little bucket of happiness. Even nowadays, with everything that is happening in my life, it’s still there for me and I just couldn’t be more grateful and appreciative that this show is real and it exists. I can’t thank Orphan Black enough for giving me unexplainable joy and for making me so incredibly happy during the past years, but most importantly, for giving me a sense of comfort, as that is something I will always remember.

LGBT Representation /Sexuality – I’m filled with so much gratitude and I know other members of clone club can relate to this as well. But one of the major reasons this show connected with us on such a profound level, is because it helped us to find ourselves, it helped us to stand proud and live our truest lives. Just as Evelyne said “ The best thing a show can do is create empathy and freedom of identity, and if our show can have a little bit of impact on anybody’s life…that stuff happens when fiction inspires reality to be more of what it should be’ and I think that sums up perfectly this next part as to why I will never forget Orphan Black. In 2015 I had a chance to slow down and focus on myself. I had been questioning my sexuality, trying to come to terms with what I was feeling, and struggling to make sense of it all. Feeling confused and also scared to admit that part of myself. It was an extremely overwhelming time for me. I dealt with a lot of doubt and self-hate and I wasn’t certain of myself or how to interpret these feelings I had- and it wasn’t until OB S3 that I was sure. Seeing the love shared between Cosima and Delphine and the intimacy between Cosima and Shay, something clicked inside for me and it felt as if a door had been opened wide. Everything began to make sense. Seeing these two relationships on screen, made me all together, simultaneously, realise/confirm/accept/understand everything I had been questioning and doubting beforehand. Everything I had been trying to deny and push away. I found myself saying “This, this is what I want” and from then on so many things in my life have changed. All thanks to Orphan Black, I’m content, happy and proud of that part of me and I couldn’t be more grateful for that. How powerful is media and television when it can really change someone’s life? How powerful is it seeing yourselves on a screen or a relationship on screen and for it to allow you to accept yourself? It feels ethereal and unexplainable really, the way this show has impacted me in that sense. Even currently, watching Cophine in season 5. I feel so proud and warm within. Not just in terms of OB helping me come to terms with my sexuality, but how this show honours and respects its LGBT audience. These relationships we see don’t shed negativity on the fact that they’re two women and making that the main problem, but rather the situation they’re in. As well, we see characters standing individually, where Cosima isn’t defined by her sexuality, and neither is Delphine. Felix also, even though he is gay, that is the tiniest fraction of his life and personality, alongside being a brother, a talented artist and so much more.It’s something extraordinary really, the impact a television show can have on one’s life, and I will forever be indebted to Orphan Black because of this. For helping me, and countless others feel proud of who they are. I also just know this representation is something that will continue to live on forever and make its mark in TV history, and for this factor, I couldn’t be more proud to be a fan of this special little clone show.

Feminism - I came to be passionate about feminism a few years ago and I always wondered why I felt so drawn to Orphan Black, despite the ability to constantly keep me hooked with the manic and insane storylines – it was because of this. These characters. These kickass female characters which I had never seen on TV before. We had these characters defying gender barriers and expectations, and we had all negative stereotypes smashed to pieces. Alison wasn’t just another soccer mom, but someone who can also fight to protect her family, Cosima wasn’t the expected hippie, but a warm sister, who’s intellectual, cheeky and full of spirit. We didn’t have the expected villains with Rachel and Helena, but rather a corporate clone with a damaging and lonely upbringing, and a psycho killer with a dark past who just wants love and a sense of belonging, and so on. These characters represent, remind us and show us on screen, the diversities and never ending layers of what it means to be a woman. The show represents who we are, and surprises us of who we can be. These characters we see, show real complexities of women, the strength they carry, the weakness, the pain, the courage, the heartache, just as women in real life. It felt like a lightbulb moment for me when my interest and love for this show interconnected with my passion for feminism. I found myself ripping apart and dissecting these characters, and really digging into the themes the show presented (e.g.; body autonomy, nature vs nurture, women’s rights etc). But ultimately, I started to understand the power and responsibility that television has in regards to positive portrayal of women on our screens. The art of storytelling through television is so important, and in that sense Orphan Black broke and pushed the boundaries on just how multifaceted women are. It’s raw, relatable, easy to connect with but most importantly realistic. - At times when my sexuality feels like a problem I know I’m not defined by it, just like Cosima. Or times when I feel lost or unloved like I used to, I can look at Helena’s journey and find strength and similarities to mine (excluding the murdering and being pregnant, ha) I can find reminders of how far I have come, just as she. I can find myself instantly relating to these characters and their stories, drawing from them for inspiration and hope. And when fiction can cause that ripple effect, it’s truly something special. Orphan black has prompted me to become more attentive and aware of feminism in modern day media and television, and due to that factor alone, it felt somewhat revolutionary for me. But not just myself, Orphan Black feels somewhat revolutionary in terms of women in TV, and I am almost certain it will be sure to leave its mark in history books because of this. “I hope that it opened people’s eyes and It helped open some doors” It truly did, and I am so thankful this show has opened my eyes in terms of feminism in television, but most of all it makes me feel proud to be a woman. To see a show where women are front and centre and they’re not boxed or defined by their gender. Orphan Black has truly shown me how impactful positive representation can have in one’s life, and as well as in entertainment itself, and for that I will be forever grateful.

Thank you Orphan Black! This show has meant more to me than I could have ever imagined and it’s something I will never forget. Thank you for being there in times of darkness, in times where I was struggling to accept myself and thank you for your portrayal of women and their complexities. And thank you for completely leaving me in awe and spoiling me in terms of top notch, exhilarating and smart television. You have set my expectations very high and I just know this show will always have a special place in my heart no matter what.

Thank you Tatiana, for sharing your talent with the world. You constantly leave me blown away in every single episode. Thank you for sharing your wisdom and kindness, for being so passionate with your love for acting, and giving your heart and soul in these characters, who showed strength, courage, and depth. Thank you for Sarah’s bravery, Rachel’s determination and will power, Cosima’s humanity, Alison’s humour, Helena’s protectiveness yet adorable and unpredictable nature, Krystal’s perseverance and Beth’s love. Thank you Kathryn! As the magic of the clones wouldn’t be possible without your generosity and humbled heart. Thank you Jordan for Felix, for his warmth, humour, humane spirit and his ability to not be defined by his gender or sexuality. Thank you Maria for the badass and iconic woman that is Mr S! A mother, fighter, and just the best foster mother on TV! Thank you Evelyne for your magical hair (ha, kidding). Thank you for the pride you take in playing Delphine. Thank you for her will to survive, her dedication and thank you for realising the importance of what it means to play a queer character on TV. Thank you Kristian for Donnie, for his hilarious and wacky journey and his humour that never fails to make me laugh uncontrollably. Thank you Kevin for Art’s humanity and his moral compass that has been something like the heart of the show since s1. Thank you to everyone involved who made this show possible. Thank you for the crazy science, the earth shattering ability to go against the norm on TV, and thank you for creating magic on our screens that constantly leaves me speechless. Most importantly thank you John and Graeme! As this show was all because of you two. Thank you for breaking boundaries, writing so boldly, for pushing the envelope constantly and thank you for creating this piece of art – this weird little clone show that I know will live on forever, in my life and everyone else’s in Clone Club. I am going to miss this show like nothing else, and I am filled with so much gratitude and love for it. I feel so incredibly lucky that I was able to be a part of this unforgettable trip, so I say thank you once again Orphan Black. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being such a huge and beautiful part of my life these past 3 years. This truly is something I will cherish for the rest of my life! x

Sasha, a clone club member all the way from Australia.

Twitter – sashafiercexo

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lukeskywalkerschanelboots · 7 years

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Gemsonaweek Day 5: Community Day

sooooo there was a writing prompt for today, but i was already working on this fic with my tanzan & @mr-ore‘s amazonite, and like...what represents “community” better than including someone else’s character in a fic LMAO

(others include @sarunono‘s angelite & @rebeccasugar‘s blue diamond!)

“My Amazonite.”

Her voice echoes across the room, cobalt rays of starlight shining through the navy curtains. It is dark, compared to how it used to be. Or so Amazonite is told - he was not there, when She was joyful, when Her beloved was whole. He has no idea what she was once like at full strength. He is not sure he wants to know. Even now, heartbroken and drowning in tears, Her voice fills planets with its feathery words, and the barest movement of Her eyes could command a thousand assassins to rain justice upon him. No, Amazonite does not want to know what She is like when She is angered. It is his job to never know.

“Yes, my Diamond?”

She does not meet his eyes, instead choosing to look out Her window at the brilliant star Her palace orbits. She gestures in that vague way that She does, unable to articulate with elegance and eloquence, and Amazonite climbs atop the small pedestal that is his stage. He is unable to meet Her eyes for longer than a moment. Staring between Her eyebrows is easier than gazing right into the cerulean irises, the uncanny pupils, the ends that are tugged down as if upon strings - no, it is easier to sing for Her.

She does not need to command Her singer any more than a bird must be commanded to fly. It is what She made him for.

Sing for me. Make me feel better.

And he does.

The ballroom of the palace is well-lit and filled wall-to-wall with Gems of Her court. Every shade of blue and green and purple that Amazonite could imagine is packed in, decadently covered in lace and glitter and expensive fabrics. Not a single shifted one in sight, of course, aside from the Quartz guards that line the balcony at even intervals. To use one’s own Light to dress oneself at such a party would be au gauche to the highest degree.

The aristocracy laugh and titter away in the way that they do, now that the Rebellion’s pain is barely an afterthought. To Amazonite’s left, three Sapphires are teasing a Lace Amethyst (a personal guard! How elegant!) as she blushes, confounded by speak of future vision. He makes his way down velvet-carpeted stairs. Gems stop and stare as he goes by; of course they do. He is Her songbird and Her source of happiness and stars only know how many courts he’s performed for to make Her happy.

He smiles. He waves. He tells them thank you and I adore it so and grits his teeth every time and thinks I hate every single one of you fake glass-gemmed Beta Kindergartener social-climbing little -

A whistle stops his thought process. It is loud, and obnoxious, in the way that whistles tend to be. A Quartz or a Ruby would hear it and immediately snap to attention, but the up-and-down wee-woo melody marks it as something other than an Agate about to snap at a guard. Amazonite, however, is not a fighter, as much as he dreams. So his first reaction is to put a hand to his ear and say: “Pardon me? Do you know who I - ”

“Sorry, darling!” The voice is from behind him, because of course nothing in this Her-forsaken life can be easy for me, can it, I have to turn around to talk to this clod who whistled at me! And he turns, still rubbing his ear.

And she is beautiful.

Of course she is. All Gems are beautiful, compared to organics. They lack the flaws of calcium-based bone structures and carbon-woven skin. But she has skin that is dark and glitters like the night sky; hair that is violet and shining and falls down one shoulder in curls that are not quite curls; doll-like wrists and shining dark eyes and long, elegant legs, balancing on heels that seem liable to snap an ankle. She smiles, and he can see the brilliant white of teeth that are, upon a second look, a lot sharper than he was really comfortable with.

Amazonite is not phased. He has seen beautiful before. He is Her songbird, and She is the most beautiful being in the universe. It is a fact as reliable as gravity. Yes, the Gem in front of him is stunning, but she whistled at him. And - “You interrupted me.” An eyebrow is raised. He crosses his arms and flips his hair away from his eye.

“Whoopsies.” An apologetic shrug; is that a wink or a blink? She sure doesn’t look sorry. She extends one hand. “Tanzan Aura Quartz A1. You can just call me Tanzzy - everyone does. Never thought I’d meet the Amazonite,” she chirps.

Amazonite is a gentleman, even when startled by whistling young socialites. So he kisses the back of her hand. She giggles. “That’s a fascinating facet...Tanzzy.”

“First of my crop.” Her eyes glaze over. “The Tanzan Aura Quartz rehabilitation program employs the remnants of defective Quartzes as well as excess magic and chemicals to create a new and useful Gem subspecies for Her Radi - oh, quit pulling a face!”

He can’t. He just kissed the hand of a bunch of glorified shards stitched back together. She’s probably heard the argument before, given the eye-roll she now gives him. Tanzzy’s blushing, now; the foot-in-mouth diatribe she just gave was obviously poorly received. It’s periwinkle. “It doesn’t matter now, anyways.” She grins again. “I’m one of Her most graceful and elegant ladies.”

“Well, your grace,” and Amazonite has gone from angry to outraged to laying on the charm so thick it hurts. “Do you know how to waltz?”

“Of course I know how to waltz! It was practically programmed into me.” The urge to cheekily ask if she’s really just a Pearl sits heavily in Amazonite’s mouth. The fear that she has an Amethyst-strength slap is the only thing holding it back.

They take hands and spin to the center of the dancefloor. It is only now that Amazonite notices how well he and Tanzzy (stars above that’s a childish nickname) compliment each other. Her skirt billows around her like purplish smoke, his, sparkling in turquoise elegance. They swirl at an even tempo, colors blending on a marble palette. The band plays on.

People have started to stare, and it’s not out of fear of a fusion. There’s some odd magical barrier around the ballroom, a technology nobody but the Peridots truly understand, that makes it safe to dance in peace. No, it’s because Amazonite and Tanzzy are lovely together. It is their respective purposes. But both are beginning to get the sense that the other’s smile is starting to hurt their face, and both are correct.

“So, have you danced with anyone else? You’re quite skilled” Tanzzy’s left eye closes in a lazy wink, and now it’s Amazonite’s turn to flush. The innuendo is obvious. She’s asking about fusion! She seems to take pleasure in the momentary upset, face turning into a catlike smile. Amazonite cannot be startled so easily. He recomposes himself in record time.

“No, but not for a dearth of diligence.” It’s chess, this game they’re playing; back and forth to knock the other off balance. Tanzzy can’t make eye contact out of embarrassment for the question she just asked. Amazonite continues on, bold as ever: “I’ve been trying to court this stunning Angelite guard for cycles now, and he just blows me off every time! Can you believe his nerve?”

“An Angelite? Guard?” The curiosity is enough to snap her out of shame. Tanzzy tilts her head to one side and purses her lips. “That’s interesting. I would’ve thought you’d shoot for another aristocrat.”

“Ha!” Amazonite flips his hair again in a laugh. “Please. Everyone above a 6.5 bores me to tears nowadays.” And it’s true; even She gets tiring after a while. The constant stream of ballads in Her beloved’s shattered name rings in his ears even when he’s alone. His shapeshifted throat aches regardless of what honey he drinks and how much he rests between his little performances. And don’t get him started on Her Aquamarines and Sapphires and that one Kyanite - stars, he can’t stand them.

“Excuse me?” Tanzzy’s eyebrow shoots up just as her lips purse into...no, it’s not a snarl, she’s too cute to even approximate it. Though the fangs do help with intimidation. As does the sudden and extreme pressure on Amazonite’s shoulder. He winces, and remembers his partner’s high ranking of 7, not even counting her socialite training.

Please, as if you’re anything special from Her court, he bites back. “I believe you misunderstood me, Tanzzy,” he says calmly, still hating how the name sounds on his silver tongue. “I said almost everyone. You, however - ”

“Oh. Really.” Her eyes are lidded, now. The pressure slips off his shoulder, and then away entirely. Now the only thing holding them together is his smooth hand on her supple waist. But, really, it’s the social graces of the Blue Court keeping that hand there in the first place. “Well, don’t let me keep you waiting,” Tanzzy replies with the slightest of eyerolls. She walks away.

Good.

“My Amazonite.”

She faces towards him, this time, curled on the pile of pillows and blankets and other soft things so large they could easily crush Amazonite if She were to do so. Her hair spills loose around her, pale and delicate as starlight without Her dark cloak getting in the way. She plays with her hair, twirling it between two of Her massive fingers. She watches how the light of Her star shines through it. It glistens as the way the tears on Her face do, as well. They spill off Her face and onto Her cloak and Her bed, and they do not fade the way that most Gems’ do.

Many times has this conversation played out, for She grieves a grief so deep and dark that it seems to pain everyone around Her as well. But Amazonite feels as if something has changed, this time.

“Yes, My Diamond?”

She moves upward into a sitting position. It takes a long moment, and it shakes the whole room. But eventually Her mighty form is sitting up, legs curled to one side, arms lost beneath billowing fabric, sniffling back tears that threaten to ruin her commands.

“I am upset, again.” She looks out Her window and blinks idly at Her star. Amazonite knows better than to ask. He thinks he knows what it is for.

She squeezes Her eyes shut, and Her next words shake. “I have lost my Tanzan Aura Quartz.”

“Oh.” There is a faint memory of a Tanzan Aura Quartz in Amazonite’s mind. It is one of a vain, silly thing, who asked too many questions and seemed to have no purpose outside of her beauty. He knows better than to ask Her for clarification, though. It is best to let Her explain on Her own time.

She sniffs again, and wipes away tears. She looked to Her ceiling as more tears fall down Her face. “I feel so...defenseless, without her.” Again, she looks to Her star for answers. “She was the first of her crop, and the best of them.”

Amazonite’s nails dig into his palms. Get to the point, he wants to scream. Tell me to sing for you, because some bratty little princess died and now you want me to fix it.

“She was my bravest guard.”

And he is knocked over again.

She looks back to Amazonite, pushing aside Her long hair to gaze at him better. Her words fill planets with their weight, and yet, she speaks so softly that it is as if she is sharing a secret with her closest friend. “I asked for a Gem that was strong, and bold, but beautiful, and charming. So they could hide in parties and look as harmless as members of my Court. And if another rebel came close to me, they would never predict who would stop them.” She sniffs, again. “My Rubies and Quartzes failed me. They were too obvious...I had to ask for something better.” A bittersweet smile creeps across Her face. “And they are…”

He can’t hear Her words over the blood rushing in his ears. Amazonite stands, locked on his pedestal, as She callously tells him that, yes, there are Gems that are beautiful soldiers and elegant guards, that can defend Her and fight and go back to being beautiful, safe in their purpose as Her last stand. But you will never be one, Her quiet voice seems to mock. You are my songbird, not my warrior.

“She was the first of her crop. I did not know how well she would fare, so new as she was.” Her hands wipe at Her eyes, a messy way to be rid of a few scant tears. “But she seemed to live for my safety. Every time she saw a threat, she would jump at the chance to pursue. Were I to see a Gem that worried me, she would beg me to be rid of them. It was as if it sustained her.” She pushes hair out of Her face. It looks as if She is truly standing in another time and place, with only Her light-form remaining in Her castle. “I do not know why, but I was not grateful enough for her service.”

Amazonite takes a deep breath. He must listen. He must know which song will ease Her pain. He wants this to be over wish as fast as he can, the way Angelite describes regeneration in combat. He wishes he knew what regeneration was like, but he has never felt the need; he has never felt pain.

“Even with her sisters watching me, I feel open without her at their helm.” He knows, soon, that She will forget this, and go back to mourning what she has always mourned. “I pray only that the rebels will not find her sweet gemstone, and use her for some vile purposes.” Her eyes twitch, and for a moment, Amazonite is terrified. She cannot be allowed to feel anger. It is his purpose, to never let Her know rage.

But She exhales, and Amazonite releases his breath in tandem. And - finally - She waves Her hand.

And he has already started to sing.

The reports of rebels have been flashing all over Homeworld, now. Their posters are meant to inspire fear, to call to arms. But they just make Amazonite feel pity. Look at them; defenseless, disorderly, on the sad little planet they call home. Quartzes working as medics. Pearls taking up weapons. How could anyone be afraid of such an army? He hates it, but it is true: Gems have a purpose and they must serve it.

So why is he stopped in the middle of a hallway, standing slack-jawed at the announcement projected ahead of him?

Angelite mumbles something about a schedule and a Hauyne, but it is lost on Amazonite’s ear. Even tugging at his arm makes no difference. Angelite could not understand, he thinks, why he stares at the purple-haired Gem ahead of him, the flowing gray jacket, the macabre strings of gemstones.

No, he stares, for printed beneath it is TANZAN AURA QUARTZ A1: WANTED FOR REBELLIOUS ACTIONS, DISOBEYING DIAMOND ORDERS, TREASON OF THE HIGHEST DEGREE.

She - he, for the Tanzzy he knew was unsmiling and the one on the board grins like a maniac with his flattened chest and widened shoulders - is laughing, necklaces and bracelets swinging as he spins in midair, a knife in each hand. His dark skin glitters like the midnight sky as it once did, and his hair is curlier and closer to his head, and now, it is clear why She favored this guard so. He looks as if war is what makes the blood pump through his veins. He looks the way Amazonite thinks he would, if he could leap into battle with blades in each hand, laughing as he cut through enemies like paper.

“Oh,” says the singer, the most eloquent of Gems, Her comforter and Her court’s beloved. Amazonite sounds as if he is speaking underwater. He feels underwater - disconnected from the world, barely even registering Angelite’s pleas for him to move.

The stars plastered on Tanzzy’s knees and jacket confuse him. Why was he not happy on Homeworld? What did he have to gain by rebelling, by joining the sworn enemies of Her, who he once protected with his life? All Amazonite can possibly think of is just: “Oh.”

Well. At least their next meeting will be a more interesting story than that party.

#gemsona #gemsona week #zanny #ahhhhhh ive never written another persons oc before so this was #nerve wracking??? to say the least #RIPPERONI #but i had fun so yeah!!#hope u enjoy saru + ore

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asntmc5recap · 7 years

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EPISODE 6: The Girl Who Has a Dirty Little Secret

Two things that ruin America’s Next Top Model: social media frenzy and too much focus given on drama.

THE FAREWELL

After the elimination, Shikin questioned the judges’ decision to give Maureen the FCO, making her the new face of Maybelline, saying Valerie’s photo was more expensive. I guess because saying her photo was better would be a little too vain?

I get why Shikin was frustrated. Last week, she got the highest challenge score, and her photoshoot was fucking flawless (she didn’t get BOTH the challenge prize or the best photo reward). But hey, like I said, in the end, Maybelline is the one who has a say in who would be picked as the winner, considering that she’ll be featured in their campaign, and they picked the prettiest one. So don’t be afraid to say it Shikin. “Don’t cha think mah pic is da best?? Dat Maureen bitch is just lucky she’s so pwetty and shaaaiitteee...”

Shikin’s disgruntlement continued after that when she saw Alicia wrote that she’s rooting for Maureen in her farewell note. (So nobody’s shipping Alicia and Maureen?) I really hope this won’t get pushed as another feud/catfight because dang I’m tired of it.

THE CHALLENGE

Another social media challenge, JESUS. I enjoy last week’s challenge. It was fun. And I guess this too, didn’t stray too far from modelling, BUT HOLY SHIT if I ever hear social media again, Imma lose my shit, y’all. I mean, whatever happened to fun challenges like, um, doing yoga on a surf board? Or KPop dance?

Fiona Fussi, Acuvue (contact lense) ambassador gave them the brief for this week’s challenge - Acuvue Uniquely Me social media challenge.

Acuvue released a line of products that cater to every type of girl - and by every, they mean only five - and using Polaroid camera, the girls need to style themselves and submit three of their best photos that embody the type of woman they were assigned to. The five different personality style are: cosmopolitan woman (Maureen and Tu), the girl next door (Cindy and Veronika), the artist (Shikin and Dorothy), the career women (Clara and Valerie) and the socialite (Nametha).

Using the Polaroid camera proved to be a challenge for some of the girls, especially those who have never used it before. There was a bit of a tension going on since they were only given ten shots to get the best photos. Shikin and the twins struggle a little bit with their groupmate taking shaite photos of them.

But one group’s “conflict” strikes me the most:

So, Clara got a lot of hate for the shenanigans that she pulled during last week’s challenge, but how is what Tu did any different from Clara? Okay, granted, Tu showed a higher level of maturity (she’s much older anyway) and Clara’s much louder, but when Tu called Maureen’s photography skill a “fail” and claimed that this is why she “can only be a model,” it is portrayed as two ladies affectionately joking around with each other (despite Tu looking genuinely dissatisfied by the final products), while Clara, who’s clearly looking like she’s goofing around, is portrayed as this annoying loudmouth beeyotch who everyone loves to hate.

I’m not saying that we should hate Tu, but I’d say the same about Clara too. Last week, the tension was built up from Maureen taking too long with the makeup so I understand how she reacted differently with Clara playfully calling her stupid for not getting the right photo than with Tu saying that her photos are bad (Maureen takes bad photo, we get it). However, I think it’s unfair Clara got portrayed as the “bad” one simply because Maureen reacted better to Tu’s (seemed legit) criticisms than Clara’s playful (yet clueless) remarks because she got to work in a calmer environment.

Anyway, Dorothy won the challenge because she embodies her personality - the artist - by biting a brush(?) and looking super indie-artist-chick-like. Not too crazy about the third photo.

Mau’s my favourite, I’ve got to say. The first photo was beautiful, and she’s really giving me this cosmopolitan girl on-the-go vibe. Tu’s discontentment was totally justified. Lol.

And special mention goes to Veronika, or more accurately, Cindy, who took these photos. The first photo looks AMAZING. To capture a movement like that with a polaroid must have taken some mad skills and perfect timing. (Or luck. I think it’s luck.)

Valerie got the worst score and she seemed super stressed-out working with Clara. But look at these photos. Are they really a product of bad photography? She was giving the same poses and the same face angle in all three pictures. Her styling was bad too, and it was one of the main criteria for a high score.

And special mention goes to Cindy, the “Missing Girl: Last seen wearing a blue top and following a creepy-looking dude with a polaroid camera. This is the last picture we have of her. If you have any information, please call this number. Rewards will be given.”

Tu CONSISTENTLY gets low scores for her challenge. WHY??

THE DRAMA

NOW we’re getting to the good part, huh? NOT.

It all started with Veronika moving back to the “good girls” room with some dirty dish on Nametha. After the challenge, the twins questioned Dorothy’s win, because they can’t even see her eyes. Shikin then asked them who they think should’ve win instead and they said they don’t know because they’re not the judge (dafuq?), prompting Nametha to question their logic (and calling them stupid bitches - on another cam, of course). Then, when they got back to their room, they started talking about how Nametha has no manners and decided to confront her in the “bad girls” bedroom. Nametha, being a BADASS BAWS, just told them to get the fuck over it (more or less).

This went on until after the photoshoot, where they revealed they know Nametha’s been using the wifi and she should get punished for breaking the rules. YADDA YADDA YADDA Clara got exiled to the “bad girls” room for not picking a side (because we good girls just don’t befriend everyone, ew!).

The only two people whom I feel sorry for are: Clara, whose cluelessness seems genuine, and Cindy, who really looks like she thought being in a house with 13 other girls for 13 weeks will be like a giant, super-long slumber party.

“Why don’t they just settle this with a pillow fight?” thought Cindy.

Anyway, the “drama” was bad - super forced, poorly thought out & terribly edited. Some of the girls’ reactions didn’t even match the conversation/situation somehow. I do find Valerie’s remarks on Dorothy’s photo - “It could’ve been better.” - kinda rude and condescending BUT I get that the bigger problems here lie mostly in the language barrier. And I might add the twin seemed to be pulling the same shit Jennica was doing in the earlier episodes, with the constant criticisms and dissatisfaction over other contestants’ performance, and the way they told Clara to move into the “bad girls” room was very Queen Bee-ish.

In my honest opinion, though, this is the same shit the producers tried to pull last week - create drama out of small fights or disagreement. I don’t know any of these girls in real life, but from what I see, their clashes come mostly from the girls having different personalities. Shikin wasn’t being a bossy bitch, she was assertive and know what she wanted; Clara wasn’t being rude, she was super childish and goofy; Nametha didn’t have no manners, she’s just outspoken and emotionally expressive. Yet, week after week, they make it seems like these girls are ready to claw each other’s eye out. I mean, when your audience keep calling your show out for being scripted, maybe you’ve to consider the probability that you’ve gone too far with the drama.

THE PHOTOSHOOT

Oh, have I told you guys how much I was rooting fro Aimee during the third cycle? She has everything needed to become a top model - brain, beauty, personality, height, and a little bit of an attitude for added flavour. Glad to see she’s doing so well now.

For their photoshoot, they need to embody luxurious indulgence for a Neutrogena commercial ad. They need to show beauty, confidence, sophistication and elegance while being totally relaxed and calm in a confined space of a bathtub.

The girls need to represent three types (flavour?) of Neutrogena body wash. The girls wearing green represent Pear & Green Tea.

Gold Lush for the girls wearing, well, gold.

And Ocean Mist being represented by the girls in blue.

I have MULTIPLE issues with this shoot. When you put a tall girl in a bathtub, wearing a dress, with her having to lift her head while her body is submerged in the water, and combined that with the position of the camera, you are NOT gonna get a good picture. Yu Tsai at least should’ve known this. The dress would’ve given an ethereal, dramatic effect had it been a full-underwater photoshoot, but here, it just made the girls look either restricted, or bigger.

And I wonder if they changed the water because it got really murky at the end. It’s disgusting considering how the water got into their eyes and mouth. (And Cindy, in her Instagram post, said that Clara was submerged for twenty minutes in it due to technical difficulties!)

THE PHOTOS

Like I said earlier, the final products of this photoshoot are not my favourites. I can probably point to some that I like, but even then I think it was just OKAY. But enough about that, LET’S ASSESS (and rank’em).

1) Cindy, 1st place, 44.1 points

I’m torn between this and Maureen’s, but I have to agree with the judges here. This just screams indulgence. Plus, beauty care product is Cindy’s thing. Among the other girls, I can see her being Neutrogena spokesperson the most.

2) Maureen, 3rd place, 43.4 points

Again, she’s a girl who can nail beauty care product with ease. It’s a pretty photo, but not much opinion can be form on it. It’s pretty, but it’s an okay pretty.

3) Nametha, 2nd place, 43.7 points

Now we’re venturing into me-no-likey territory. While I can see the beauty and calmness in this photo, it also shows the main problem in this photoshoot. Nametha’s tall, and being confined in that bathtub means she mostly had to squish herself to get in the frame. And in this photo we can see how that, combined with her dress, make her mid-section looks super huge. You either make the pool larger, or the dress, uh, smaller?

4) Tu, 7th place, 36.5 points

Cindy complained about how her photos are mostly too sexy. But you put a girl who just oozes sexuality without even trying in a lace dress in a bathtub and what do you think is gonna happen? She ain’t gonna turn into Mother Theresa in there, boo.

5) Shikin, 4th place, 43.0 points

I won’t say she’s not a commercial girl (she killed it last week) but I’d say she’s not a Neutrogena girl (same with Tuti last cycle). But that being said this could’ve been better. Shit I sounded like Valerie.

6) Clara, 6th place, 37.8 points

CLOSE. YOUR. GODDAMN. MOUTH. JEEZUS.

Btw, the neck looks super-strained. But that’s “trying to show neck while lifting my head to make sure my face is not submerged in the water” neck I tell you.

7) Dorothy, 9th place, 34.8 points

Can someone PLEASE explain to me this whole “sweet bubbly girl next door” thing that Cindy keeps pointing out about Dorothy? Since the first week she struck me as a sassy girl with an attitude. I don’t know if she looks cute and bubbly in real life but heck I just don’t see it.

Oh yeah, and the photo is terrible. I disagree with Cara saying there’s no emotion there, but it’s less “Come in the bath with me and experience this indulgence together,” and more “OH NO, I really don’t mind you using the toilet while I’m trying to take a relaxing bath, dear...”

8) Valerie, 5th place, 42.5 points

“Help, help, this wall is closing in on me. Oh, a camera! Pose! Help, help...”

9) Veronika, 8th place, 35.5 points

“Why bother, twin? Life’s meaningless anyway. Let’s just crawl in a fetal position and wait quietly for our impending doom.. Let’s go gentle into the good night...”

Goodbye, Nametha

So it was a pre-determined no-elimination week (yeah, right) but the issue of Nametha’s breaking the rules rose again during the judging panel. Cindy asked the girls to raise their hand if they thought Nametha should be eliminated. Tu is so affected by the whole ordeal (she wanna use the wifi too, you guys) that she looks like she’s about ready to backhand any girls who think Nametha should stay.

“You either eliminate her or feel the Wrath of Tu!”

So anyway, we say arrivederci to our blooming flower, Nametha.

She seems unapologetic about breaking the rules. But what has been done has been done, and if the punishment for breaching the contract is disqualification, then I think she got what she deserved. Plus, Tu was right. She’s from Singapore, so being familiar with the country they’re staying in, she should really be the one feeling the least homesick (think of it as going to college where you’re not allowed to use the phone or wifi or something, I don’t know). However, it’s still sad seeing her go especially when she’d been giving really good performances these past few weeks.

Damn wifi.

#asntm #asntm5 #asia next top model #asia next top model cycle 5 #asia #fashion #model #next top model

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neuxue · 8 years

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Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 7

Nynaeve casually challenges authority structures, Rand tries to delegate, the Aiel continue to live the story of Rhuidean

Chapter 7: The Plan for Arad Doman

Poor Ituralde.

“A storm is coming,” Nynaeve said

Very observant, Nynaeve. Has there been any point in the last eleven books or so when there hasn’t been a storm coming? Hell of a time to have meteorology as a superpower.

The weather was always there, in the back of her mind. She could sense the rain, sun, or snow in the wind’s whispers.

Lately, however, the sensations hadn’t been like whispers at all. More like distant shouts, growing louder.

Between Nynaeve’s symbolic weather sense and Mat’s brain-dice, we’ve pretty much got alarms ringing 24/7 (er, 24/10?). No wonder these people are on edge.

Daigain says okay fine there’ll be a storm we’ll get wet it happens, and Nynaeve’s like no you don’t understand, the rain symbolises endless tears and the lightning is the actual end of the world and the dark clouds represent the all-consuming nothingness of the void and—

And now Daigian is no doubt wishing she had a better umbrella.

Her name is really hard for me to type, for some reason; I always end up writing it as Daigain.

Nynaeve could still remember the sheer joy – the awesome euphoria, strength, and sheer feel of life –that had come from drawing that much power.

So I know this is absolutely me nitpicking the prose excessively, but this keeps happening, where a non-trivial word appears twice in the same sentence (In this case, ‘sheer’). It’s not the end of the world or anything, but it catches my attention every time it happens and I’m trying to figure out why it’s suddenly a thing, as seems more like an editorial issue than an authorial one. Was there a deadline on the publication of this book that caused the editing process to be rushed?

(For the record, I tend to notice and occasionally get irritated by this sort of copy-editing-level stuff in just about any book; it’s not just me being unfair to Sanderson. I promise. It’s part of why I have such a love of beautiful prose, and why reading Twilight was like having an unanaesthetised root canal).

(Yes, I know these liveblogs are full of typos and sentences that go nowhere and enough other errors to make any editor cry. I’m a hypocrite, what can I say?)

She was glad the ter’angreal she’d used to touch that power had been destroyed. But the male ter’angreal was still intact

So that’s good. I mean, barriers to unity between the two halves of the Power have always ended well, right?

The Choedan Kal, as we have been told a number of times by even those who desire power over the entire world and everyone in it and are working towards chaos and destruction, allow one to channel enough power to potentially destroy the world. Rand spent several books terrified of even touching the ter’angreal. And we’ve seen what he can do with just half the power of one. Or with Callandor, for that matter.

He and Nynaeve used the Choedan Kal to work a miracle and give the Light probably its greatest victory in three thousand years. But the whole underlying point of that was that it was accomplished with saidar and saidin together, unified for the first time in millennia, cleansing one half of that whole so that they could be unified in truth.

Now, only the male half of the Choedan Kal can be used. Which means torrents of unbalanced saidin, in the hands of a single person rather than a link. And that, given how important unity and balance are in this story and how many problems result from division and discord, seems like a recipe for disaster.

So that’ll be fun.

She’d told Rand that he needed to forget about the access key.

I mean. A for effort?

Daigian is still grieving for Eben Hopwil, which of course makes Nynaeve think of Lan, which…

Lan would be fine. Only at the end of his journey of thousands of miles would he be in danger. It was there he intended to throw himself at the Shadow like a lone arrow

It’s hardly even simile. He does quite literally intend to throw himself at the Shadow. He always has. And he has always intended to do it alone, knowing full well what the consequences will be. Knowing that there is no way to win, that all that awaits him is an unmarked grave in the Blight, in the land that has always been his inheritance, his burden, and his home. One last, lone strike from the ghost of Malkier, falling forty years late and ultimately accomplishing little but fulfilling what he believes to be inevitable; he will fall as Malkier fell, standing against the Shadow and fighting to hold back the tide until he is overwhelmed.

Of course, Nynaeve has other plans, and I am so very excited to see how this plays out. Last stands in almost any variation are well up there when it comes to my favourite tropes, and this adds in an extended march towards death, a final journey, likely a steadily gathering army, the potential sort-of-resurrection of a nation…and then something that is both conflict and cooperation between two characters of phenomenal though differently-manifesting willpower, working towards this end. One embracing death, one doing everything to ensure a chance for life.

Nynaeve has accepted that Lan must go, that he has to do this. Now it is perhaps time for Lan to accept that Nynaeve is right, that he doesn’t have to do this alone, that Malkier still has something to give, that his war against the Shadow maybe does not have to be unwinnable.

Tl;dr: I am here for every single aspect of this. In… case that was somehow ever in doubt?

Nynaeve’s constant struggle with authority continues. Her own, other people’s, entire institutions of heirarchy – you name it, she struggles with it.

Oh, interesting. Daigian’s teaching her the hundred weaves of the test for Aes Sedai. I know the main set are all Aes Sedai by decree or technicality already, but I do hope we get to see at least one of them take it. Maybe Elayne, since we didn’t get to see her Accepted test.

Nynaeve waved an indifferent hand, repeating the weave exactly. “Honestly,” she said, “that one seems the most useless of the bunch! What is the point of all of these?”

Someday when this is all over, Nynaeve, you should go find Thom Merrilin and ask him to explain the idea of the ‘party trick’ to you.

The problem was, this placed Nynaeve in a situation where she was all but treated as a student again. She did see the use in knowing the hundred weaves – she’d spent far too short a time studying them, and virtually every sister knew it. However, by accepting the lessons, she hadn’t meant to imply that she saw herself as a student!

*shakes head fondly* oh Nynaeve. She is in a bizarre situation in terms of how she fits into the Aes Sedai hierarchy, and it combines so well with that aspect of her arc as a whole. Not entirely unlike how she was regarded by many as too young to be Wisdom, and then how she left her village and entered a world where being village Wisdom meant very little. So much of her path and her growth as a character has related to figuring out who she is and where she fits in, balancing exceptional power and intentions with insecurity and stubbornness. How she can grow and change and learn and still be herself, how she can be village Wisdom and powerful Aes Sedai and sometimes even uncertain young woman, how she can both surrender and command – in essence, how she can trust in and remain true to the core of herself, even while everything changes around her and she changes and grows with it.

Bah!

I challenge you to find me a single Sanderson character who hasn’t said this at least once.

Nynaeve is barely thinking about the weaves she’s copying, and Daigian is thinking a lot about Eben.

A youth of only sixteen, Nynaeve thought, dead. Did Rand have to recruit them so young?

Rand wasn’t all that much older himself, when this all started. And Egwene was what, a few months past sixteen? Blame the genre, Nynaeve, not Rand.

“This pain you feel, it has to be an effect of the bond, and therefore something to do with the One Power. If the Power causes your pain, then the Power can take that pain away.”

“And why would I want that?” Daigian asked, in control once again.

“Well…well, because it’s pain. It hurts.”

This reminds me of one of the many times she tried to heal the wound in Rand’s side – “How can it be enough when you’re still bleeding?” Nynaeve is a healer to the core; this is what she does. She sees pain and she wants to ease it, wants to fix it, and hates it when she cannot. “At least let me Heal you,” she said to Rand, when she had no idea what else to do, or how to help him. And then with Lan, she saw how it was tearing him apart to remain here, and so she took him to the Borderlands, because that was the only way to even possibly heal him. And so many others. She can’t see pain and not want to help.

“It should,” Daigian said. “Eben is dead. Would you want to forget your pain if you lost that hulking giant of yours? Have your feelings for him cut away like some spoiled chunk of flesh in an otherwise good roast?”

[…]

would Nynaeve want that pain taken away? She closed her mouth, suddenly realising the honour in Daigian’s words.

She is a healer, but she can absolutely still understand the value in some kinds of pain, in grief. It’s as if wanting to heal is her instinctive reaction, but this is a more conscious degree of wisdom. Which says something about her, really.

“There is something wrong with this system, Daigian,” Nynaeve said absently.

Back to Nynaeve and systems of authority. I’m with her on this one; it is absurd that someone like Daigian has effectively no opportunity whatsoever to rise from the very bottom of the rankings. She seems experienced and intelligent, and her extremely low strength in the Power has likely made her resourceful in how she uses it, but she’ll always be little more than a servant to other Aes Sedai. Which is kind of bullshit.

“With the testing? It seems appropriate that there should be some kind of test to determine worthiness, and the performing of difficult weaves under stress strikes me as fulfilling that need.”

Not what Nynaeve is talking about, but Daigian’s point is reasonably sound. The problem is…they aren’t difficult weaves for someone at Nynaeve’s level of strength. Likely even someone at Egwene’s. Various Forsaken have derided the Aes Sedai of this time as half-trained children, and while they’re perhaps more dismissive than they should be, they’re not exactly wrong. Having a test isn’t necessarily a bad idea, but is this test going to stand up to stronger candidates? Or even to weaker ones, who have less strength in the Power but more strength in other ways?

I could almost see Nynaeve just demonstrating the hundred weaves in the same offhand dismissive way she’s learning them now, not even in the test but as reasoning for why she shouldn’t have to take it. She can do the weaves without difficulty, and she’s proven herself in any number of situations that most would agree meet the criterion of ‘stressful’.

“There you sit,” [Nynaeve] said, “knowing as much as any other Aes Sedai – knowing more than many, I’d wager – and the moment any Accepted just off apron strings gains the shawl, you have to do what she says.”

Daigian’s blush deepened. “We should move on.”

It just wasn’t right. Nynaeve let the matter drop, however. She’d stepped in this particular pit once before in teaching the Kinswomen to stand up for themselves in front of Aes Sedai. Before long, they’d been standing up to Nynaeve too, which had not been her intention. She wasn’t certain she wanted to attempt a similar revolution among the Aes Sedai themselves.

And yet, she’s Nynaeve, so no one is going to take that bet. I do love that she’s bringing this up so un-subtly, though. She is one of the strongest Aes Sedai in centuries, and she hates it when people challenge her authority in general, and here she is, going off unprompted about how this system is fucked. Which it is.

Sure, she’s in this weird position where she doesn’t actually gain much rank or advantage from her strength, because the Aes Sedai around her don’t actually see her as one of them, so the whole notion of authority and heirarchy is on her mind already. But still, she just goes ahead and calls it like she sees it, even if in all likelihood it could easily end up the way her talks with the Kinswomen did. But someone has to do it, because again, this system is so many kinds of ridiculous. And it’s just so classic Nynaeve that she would be the one to point it out this way (and in all likelihood have it come back to bite her later).

Cadsuane’s going somewhere so Nynaeve immediately assumes there is a Secret Meeting with Rand and leaves to go join in. As you do.

Ah, the clan chiefs have arrived.

She would have thought that after all this time, [Rand] would have realised the importance of getting advice from someone a little more experienced than he. How many times now had he gotten himself kidnapped, wounded or imprisoned because of his rashness?

Well, she may have a point there.

But mostly I’m laughing because, while she does have something of a point, he does have people with more experience giving him advice. Bashere. Cadsuane. Also sort of arguably Lews Therin Telamon (though that facebook relationship definitely merits a solid ‘it’s complicated’). Sometimes he even deigns to listen.

All these others in camp might bow and scrape and dote on him, but Nynaeve knew that he was really just a sheepherder from Emond’s Field.

The fact that she still sees him that way is one of the most important things about her dynamic with him, even as it can also blind her to some things. Rand can no longer afford to ‘sit, and remember a shepherd named Rand al’Thor,’ but Nynaeve does remember, and holds stubbornly to that memory, even when he cannot.

(It reminds me of Elayne, thinking ‘there had been a boyishness about him sometimes, but it was gone as if burned away. She mourned that for him. She did not think he did, or could.’ He has lost or left behind so much of himself and who he was, but those who love him hold on to some of those pieces).

Only now instead of flustering the village girls he could throw entire nations into chaos.

I love this.

The way it’s presented, it becomes both a similarity (he’s still the village boy who could get into trouble) and a striking contrast (he was harmless, and now he is a force of devastation). And it almost seems to emphasise how young he still is, and how quickly this happened, and how much has changed. How much he has changed, though she still sees him as Rand, still draws these similarities rather than looking at him as a different person, even as she does see what he has become. She just doesn’t see his current state in isolation; she sees it through the lens of memory and of love, and even perhaps of faith that he is still Rand, that the boy she knew is still there.

It’s also an excellent line, just on its own.

She doubted that Aviendha would be with the group

Maybe stick to the weather in your predictions, Nynaeve.

Nynaeve still felt guilty for leaving them, but somebody had needed to help Rand cleanse saidin. That wasn’t the sort of thing you left him to do alone.

Nynaeve al’Meara: casually performing miracles since TGH. “but I didn’t mean to Heal Logain!” “but someone had to cleanse the taint!” “I didn’t know what would happen, but I fought one of the Forsaken and kind of captured her, I’m sorry.” I love her.

Rand stood inside, wearing black and red

Red and black, hmm? Dyeing your hair black and trying to save a man from falling off a building wasn’t enough for you, Rand? What’s next, a sha’rah board?

When had he started looking so much like a Warder, with that instant glance of assessment?

Somewhere mid-TDR, I would say. Possibly as early as TGH, though at that point he was mostly faking it.

But…yeah. He has changed, and she can see it, but even so he is still Rand.

I should never have let that woman take him from the Two Rivers, she thought. Look what it’s done to him.

He is still Rand, and she hates what has been done to him, hates how much pain he has suffered. She doesn’t dismiss him, or decide that he is no longer Rand and therefore no longer someone she can or should care about. She wants to help him.

And she also recognises very quickly that her thoughts about Moiraine there aren’t fair or rational.

If Moiraine hadn’t come for Rand, he’d now be dead. With him would have gone the light and hope of the world.

She has come a long way.

“I was about to send for you. Rhuarc and Bael are here.”

Nynaeve raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Oh?” she asked flatly. “And here I’d assumed that all the Aiel in the camp meant we had been attacked by Shaido.”

His face hardened at her tone, and those eyes of his grew…dangerous. But then he lightened, shaking his head, almost as if to clear it. Some of the old Rand – the Rand who had been an innocent sheepherder – seemed to return.

She is one of the few who can bring that out in him, it would seem. Probably because she still sees that Rand in him, where so very few other people do. Where even he doesn’t always, anymore. It’s why he needs people like her, and people who see him as human, and people who will to speak honestly and bluntly to him, and people who are unafraid of him, and people who love him,.

Nynaeve eyed him, surprised at how tight her own nerves had become. He was just a wool-headed villager, no matter how much influence he’d found. He was.

But she could not shake away that look in his eyes, that flash of anger. Holding a crown was said to change many men for the worse. She intended to see that didn’t happen to Rand al’Thor, but what recourse would she have if he suddenly decided to have her imprisoned? He wouldn’t do that, would he? Not Rand.

These moments, when she can’t help but see how dangerous he is, and can’t help but feel a little bit of fear, much as she doesn’t want to, are so sad. She still sees him as Rand, and holds stubbornly to that perception, but even she can’t keep it perfectly. He has gone too far for that. She doesn’t want to be afraid of him, or to doubt him – she wants to protect him – but there are these flashes of moments where some element of her subconscious mind betrays her. Rand al’Thor would never hurt her, but the Dragon Reborn…and she can’t quite banish that hint of fear and uncertainty, and it’s just a little bit heartbreaking.

(And then there’s Lan referring to him as ‘al’Thor’ that one time; I am still not entirely over that).

Semirhage should have been stilled the moment they captured her…

It’s a shame no one talks to anyone, or they would know that Semirhage is the third Forsaken who has been captured in the last year or so, and thus this is not a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get information. It is a valuable one, but how much are they realistically going to be able to get from her, that Rand didn’t get from Asmodean – or the memories in his own head – or Egwene and the others from Moghedien? And at what potential cost?

Of course, it’s a moot point because Rand won’t let her be harmed, and it’s ALL GOING TO END IT TEARS, YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST.

Well no, you probably read the books and therefore actually know how it ends, but that is beside the point.

Hi Aviendha. Still being given shaming punishments, I see.

“Tell me of your work in Arad Doman,” he said to Rhuarc. “My scouts inform me that this land is hardly at peace.”

Rhuarc accepted a cup of tea from Aviendha – so she was still considered an apprentice – and turned to Rand. The clan chief did not drink. “We have had very little time, Rand al’Thor.”

“I don’t look for excuses, Rhuarc,” Rand said. “Only results.”

In which Rand takes a level in CEO. Seriously though, let’s have a chat about realistic expectations and demands, shall we?

Rhuarc himself displayed no anger, though Nynaeve did think his hand tightened on his cup. “I have shared water with you, Rand al’Thor,” he said. “I would not think that you would bring me here to offer insults.”

Does it feel cold in here to anyone else? Rhuarc may not be displaying any anger, but…yikes. He’s been one of Rand’s strongest supporters and allies for a long time now; he hasn’t just shared water with Rand but stood by him at Alcair Dal, administered a city and fought battles for him, and went to Dumai’s Wells to rescue him with little hope of surviving. Not to mention advised him, taught him, and befriended him.

Bael is rather less subtle about his irritation.

“This land is broken, Rand al’Thor,” Rhuarc said, his voice calmer than Bael’s. “It is not making excuses to explain that fact, and it is not cowardice to be cautious about a difficult task.”

Have I mentioned lately that I love Rhuarc? He’s great. He’s one of those solid, utterly dependable types. 110% badass, but not flashy or reckless about it. Just…there, unafraid and unflappable and steady like a brick wall.

“We must have peace here,” Rand growled. “If you can’t manage—” “Boy,” Cadsuane said, “perhaps you want to stop and think. How often have you known the Aiel to fail you? How often have you failed, hurt, or offended them?”

Harsh, but all too true. It’s not just that they haven’t failed him, with the exception, I suppose, of the Shaido. They have also given up so much for him. They have left the Three-fold Land, following a man prophecy says will destroy them. Many have been destroyed already, either fighting his battles or lost to the Bleakness. Even the fall of the Shaido could be obliquely attributed to him; he caused the schism as much as Couladin did.

And he knows all of this. It may not all be his fault, exactly – prophecy makes blame difficult, sometimes, and they made their own choices – but he knows full well what role he is set to play here. He knows he will be their destroyer, much as he does not – did not? – wish to be. Because of that, he knows he has a certain responsibility to them. And usually he recognises and remembers this. It’s hard to know for certain what’s going through his mind here, since we’re not in his POV, but I do wonder. It seems Cadsuane’s words have hit home, at least.

“I apologise, Rhuarc, Bael. It has been a…wearing few months.”

Well. I mean. That…yeah. You could say that. Oh, Rand.

It seems a rather Sanderson thing for Rand to say, but I’ll happily take it. It’s easy to criticise a lot of what Rand’s doing, and to see that he’s on a dark path right now, and that he needs to come to terms with some things and deal with others, and all the rest. But he’s also just so tired. He’s exhausted, and he’s desperate, and he’s just trying to hold himself together, literally and figuratively, long enough to hold everything else together. And of course things slip, and pieces get left behind, and he stops caring about anything he doesn’t see as absolutely essential. Of course that view gets distorted. Of course his path looks dark, because he has nothing left to give and everything left to do, and it’s too much and there’s no time. His demands of others may be unreasonable, but the demands on him aren’t any less forgiving, and too few characters see that. Which doesn’t necessarily excuse him, but it does make a lot of what he says and does very understandable.

So anyway, Arad Doman is a mess.

Rand starts musing about Graendal and Nynaeve’s disturbed by the familiarity with which he speaks of her. I suppose I, too, would be slightly worried about anyone on first-name terms with Graendal, because she’s terrifying, but I don’t think that’s exactly Nynaeve’s issue.

Rhuarc just wants to fight Ituralde. Rand’s like this is not the time for a pissing contest.

“Not while I live, at least.”

Yeah, so, ‘over my dead body’ statements tend to sound a lot less flippant and hit rather harder when most people – including Rand himself – expect him to die in the very near future.

It reminds me of when he said that, after he dies, everyone can go back to fighting the Seanchan to their heart’s content if they want to. It’s a sad kind of resignation and something almost like despair, fighting so hard for peace and stability now, and having little hope that it will last, even as he plans to die to give it the chance.

How thoughtful Bashere seemed, as if he were indeed considering engaging this Ituralde. Men!

Damn it Bashere, not you, too!

Offer [men] a challenge, and they’d be curious, no matter that the challenge would likely end with them spitted on a lance.

This from Nynaeve “nothing is impossible” al’Meara. Bless.

“There are few men alive like Rodel Ituralde,” Bashere said. “He would be a great help to our cause, for certain. I’ve always wondered if I could beat him.”

Guys. Everyone. Please. If you could all just set aside your massive crush on Rodel Ituralde for a moment, while we figure out a strategy…

Though on a more serious note it puts me in mind of last chapter, when Ituralde and the Seanchan general exchanged genuinely respectful words and advice, despite the fact that one had just defeated the other, and one was dying. Turan wanted to talk tactics with Ituralde, find out how he had done what he had done, rather than rage at him for defeating Turan’s army. This is what they do, and who they are, and there’s a sense of ‘may the best man win’ about it all. So it’s not surprising – and is in fact rather entertaining – that everyone wants their turn at Ituralde.

But still.

Rand repeats that NO ONE IS FIGHTING ITURALDE, that means you, Bashere, and you, Rhuarc, and you, Gareth Bryne; you’re not here but if you were you’d probably be asking for a shot at him too.

Instead, Rand wants them to kidnap the Council of Merchants. White Tower style?

“IF Graendal really has taken Alsalam, then getting him back will do us no good. He’ll be so far beneath her Compulsion that he’ll barely have the mind of a child. She’s not subtle; she never has been.”

Er. I hope you just mean she’s not subtle when she decides to use Compulsion heavily, because otherwise you have made an error.

“We are not kidnappers,” Bael said, frowning.

“You are what I say you are, Bael,” Rand said quietly.

“We are still free people, Rand al’Thor,” Rhuarc said.

Oh.

Okay, that is excellent. Wow. Chills.

Such hard words, such strong statements, spoken so very softly.

And this is the core of it, isn’t it? He will take you back, and he will destroy you. They have given themselves to him, knowing destruction is fated for all but a ‘remnant of a remnant’, and they have accepted that fate, but they are still free. And this comes down to the whole concept of identity, which is such a central part of their history as a nation. It has changed drastically over time, but at each point… “I am Aiel!”

“I will change the Aiel with my passing,” Rand said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know what you’ll be when this is all through, but you cannot remain what you were.”

And so their story continues as it has since they left Paaran Disen. Change, and breaking, until they are all but unrecognisable. Already this could be another chapter in the story Rhuidean told. But, while they cannot remain what they were – and it’s such a beautifully sad statement, especially because Rand and the clan chiefs know it so deeply as truth, having seen the past – they can hold to the very core of that identity. They are still Aiel, even when everything changes but the word itself. It is theirs, and their identity to claim, and he can change everything but he cannot change that.

In other news, the Rhuidean story is clearly still A Problem for me. Who’d have guessed?

Of all those who follow me, I trust you the most.

Rand’s trust is both a gift and a burden.

“Once you take the Council of Merchants,” Rand continued, apparently unconcerned about their worries, “move the Aiel into the cities where those merchants ruled. Make sure those cities don’t degenerate. Restore order as you did in Bandar Eban. From there, begin hunting bandits and enforcing the law. Supplies will soon arrive from the Sea Folk. Take cities on the cost first, then move inland. Within a month’s time, the Domani should be flowing toward you, rather than running away from you. Offer them safety and food, and order will take care of itself.”

Well. Uh…at least he’s learned to delegate? Is all I can really say about that. No pressure or anything.

Actually, what I can say about that is that it sounds almost exactly like what the Seanchan have done. They have taken cities in turmoil, established order, and offered safety and food. They came as invaders, and there are certain Issues with what they do, but they did bring peace as they conquered. It’s a large part of why the ordinary people don’t seem to resent them.

Now Rand is sending the Aiel to do almost the same thing. The Aiel may not come from a half-forgotten continent, but they’re widely seen as foreign and threatening, and they are being sent as essentially invaders, to take over cities and establish a new order. From that perspective, it’s eerily similar. Which is kind of interesting to think about. I wonder if Rand sees it.

“And what of Ituralde?” Bashere asked, looking back at the map. “There won’t be peace for long once he realises we’ve invaded his homeland.”

Just as the Seanchan did. And to Ituralde, how will this be any different?

Rand tapped the map softly for a moment. “I will deal with him personally,” he finally said.

Poor Ituralde. He was ready for anything…short of the Dragon Reborn appearing in front of him…

Next (TGS ch 8) Previous (TGS ch 6)

#someday I will be over Rhuidean #but It Is Not This Day #Wheel of Time #neuxue liveblogs WoT #The Gathering Storm

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chaos2go · 7 years

Note

OC Asks for Barret~ 4, 5, 10, 14, 26, 36, 48, 50! (I love the deeper questions, sorry ❤️)

Oh boi I hope I can answer these fast XD I’m putting a read more in just so you know : D

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

Well that’s kinda hard for me to hit on honestly because I’ve never really drawn him and my older descriptions are rather invalid. Plus science fiction XD But overall I have a few different concepts. Mercenary Barret tends to wear an all black ‘zero suit’ like outfit. Or rather something similar to Starcraft’s Ghosts or Spectres. Given my concept of fashion for mercs in that era is less bulky, zero suit is probably the better thing to go off of. I don’t want to sit here and describe it as it isn’t set in stone. When he gives up on that, he’s mostly found in a more casual outfit. Well fitting pants, shirt, and usually a long trench coat if he’s out. He also wears his hair back. Sorry for this being a sucky answer though XD

5. What is your OC’s first memory?

Oh gosh. His first real memory is of his mother. It’s not very vivid to him anymore but it’s her just comforting him as his head really hurts due to his powers. She was talking about something but he just doesn’t know what anymore. As a young kid, he had issues controlling them given his strength with them. He was in a lot of pain. She spent as much time as allowed with him despite the risk of injury for being alongside him. Livia wasn’t stupid in realizing her kid needed to be at ease in order for his powers to be controlled. Sometimes he swears Chris is there too trying to cheer him up but he was pretty young so it might be two things.

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

I want to say sloth so bad. Like just gut instinct given how others perceive him. Everyone assumes his powers come easy to him and all the jobs he does as a merc he makes look so easy. There was rarely any trouble. His training for the most part he hardly put any effort in to. Little does everyone else know though that he often tried to write things and keep some sort of control over his powers with the help of his mother. When she died, perhaps laziness did start. But that goes to what I really think represents him.

Envy really is what represents him. Ever since he was little, he always assumed that everyone else liked his brother more. Despite all the time his mother spent with him, Barret always assumed Chris got more time. Chris got the special treatment while he was left behind. He felt like he was pushed away from his family given his powers had to be controlled and taught by an institution given law. His father rarely spent time with them and he could have swore as a kid that his father hated him for his powers. Honestly he was envious of how normal the rest of his family was.

When his mother died, he was so lost on the fact he wasn’t there when she passed. It wasn’t fair that his father and Chris got to see her before she died. He got there too late. Chris got to become the next in line for leadership where the family business was. Chris got a family. Overall Chris was just happier and luckier. Barret had to work for everything and just felt belittled. And when he got something he cared about, it was taken away. He couldn’t even get happiness and it wasn’t fair.

But needless to say he got over this eventually. Thus why Sloth I think also represents him just not as much. He is lazy later on in life but it’s because he’s found ways to make things work better. Barret doesn’t need to be envious of others as he’s figured out how to be happy.

14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

This one will probably change from whatever I said last time XD Because Barret has changed a bit as a character. He likes to eat fruits, salads, and sweets. Things to keep his body in check as he needs a healthy body in order for his powers to function properly. Not that it’s a priority or that you need to be IN SHAPE to control your psychic abilities in this world. It’s just certain foods help the brain work better thus better behaved powers. Sweets are just one of his weaknesses. Like he loves hard candies and probably had quite a few from his mom as a kid XD

Most meats he doesn’t care for unless they’re cooked in some sort of sauce. He also really hates nuts of any kind. Straight up chocolate also makes him want to vomit.

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

GOSH it depends on the time in his life. But honestly I want to say Zane and Michelle.

Zane is his only connection left to Ashley. He was also his first student. Without Zane, Barret wouldn’t have been able to realize he is capable of being more than just a mercenary grunt. There is a fatherly love he has towards the kid as he works with him and realizes the common issues they have. Zane has so many bad things going for him that he can’t help but want to step in and use what authority he has to make things better. But this is also in part to Michelle.

Michelle is super important to him because she taught him that things can get better and happiness can be achieved. At first he wanted nothing to do with her and thought her weird given she’s not exactly like the rest of the people in this area of the galaxy. She didn’t exactly want a whole lot to do with him either but situations and work kinda intertwined. Plus Michelle did offer to help Barret out. She gave him a person to talk to, a person to confide in, and a person to explain a lot of things he bottled up. In return he was able to learn about her too and realize that honestly he was kind of shallow before. She opens up a side of him that he thought he couldn’t show anymore. Pretty much he could relax and be himself instead of Shield (his merc name).

36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

Barret honestly just wants to be happy. He doesn’t feel it fair he has always had the shit end of the stick. He tried to deal with it through drinking, smoking, one night stands, extremely dangerous jobs, making enemies, etc. Anything to make him feel validated. It wasn’t so bad before his mother passed but it grew terrible as he bottled things up. If Ashley wouldn’t have caught his eye, he probably would have took on a similar mission like his mother did and got himself killed too.

48.What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

Barret’s mother Livia was a chemist/field medic. She unexpectedly found out she was pregnant with Barret when she was in whatever would be considered college like in that era and had to drop out. Most of her studies were then rushed in for merc work thus her becoming a field medic. She did that after he was born to try and help others because focusing on chemicals (toxins, poisons, just about anything vicious was an area of interest for her despite how her personality was seen) felt wrong given a war her company got dragged in to. There is where she rescued Chris and figured out how to help him stabilize. Barret was still a baby so he really didn’t learn about that until sometime after Chris did too. Needless to say, she cared a lot about both of her kids. She did her best to be there for both but Barret’s powers meant he had to be away the good majority of the time. She wrote him often and asked for stories (thus where he grew to love telling them despite no one but her really knowing). She was the only one that could really comfort him even when he was older. To him, she was the only individual who knew how he could really be and the only member of his family that didn’t want to completely write him off. (Honestly a lot of that idea is in Barret’s head). Her death pretty much made a giant wall between him and his family despite them trying to reach out.

Barret’s father however wasn’t as constant as he would have liked to be. He was a merc himself and had a lot of far away jobs. He did his best to visit as often as possible but Barret was often away when he returned. This didn’t mean he didn’t leave gifts but that made Barret feel as if his father didn’t care. Chris had a lot of stories about what they did together yet Barret had maybe one or two. Him trying to contact Barret and be there for him after his mother’s passing didn’t really go well either. Barret let him know how he really felt and wrote him off. It wasn’t until he tried after Ashley died that he got any sort of success and broke the barriers with Barret. Barret still holds a grudge for the lack of time with him as a kid but is very appreciative of him being there now. He sees that his father has a lot regret especially when it came to Livia.

50.If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

WELL IF IT IS THE DEATH OF SOMEONE HE CARES ABOUT, you better well not have shot them or something. Because he would kill you. But if it’s something like an accident, he panics and can’t control his power. He wants to be involved and helped. But that’s in the case of other people since his story relates around those two different kinds of deaths ;p

For him however, he probably wouldn’t care too much. He knows he has a shortened lifespan and anything sooner wouldn’t be a big surprise. He would however worry about his family. His children, student, and fiancee are his life for the most part. He has gotten close to those he wants to help and is a little too involved with his own children. Being with them would be what would make him happy and I don’t think he’d try to do anything that would extend his life given short lifespan anyway. Only if there was a high percentage chance would he even try.

Though honestly I don’t have that idea in mind for him ever. I see him going out in a place that would make him happy. Perhaps not his family but him. That idea being a family gathering. He’s at his ‘elderly’ stage in life and just knows he’s going to be going. He doesn’t want to given the rest of his family is so happy and full of life. Being frail has scared him and he has spoken to Michelle about it. She probably understands where he’s coming from and wishes he would have tried to do something but given her job, she also understands why he isn’t. So really just imagine him in a room watching his family before he just asks for her to help him somewhere a little more reserved.. For him, seeing his family happy would be a good thing. And being with Michelle at the end would mean a lot. But this is also super sappy and I’ll be even more honest… he’d probably end up dying to Zane’s inventions /shot

#long post #barret #oc talk

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