#I truly love the detail. It's actually the reason why I saved this fragment
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Watches Haunted Mansion 2023 with friends: Yeah that was alright. Product placement was insane though, took away from the serious scenes. Also it was too dark. Like literally could not see much.
Immediately watches the 2003 version with the same friends: omg that was way better, you can actually see what’s happening, the mansion set is amazing, it’s funny, and it was weirdly wholesome. The jumpscares got us good too.
My big takeaway from the experience is that the new movie suffered from fragmentation, being way too dark (likely to hide bad cgi but still), the weird Hollywood thing now where jokes and plot scenes have to be harshly separated instead of allowed to organically happen as the story progresses, and no real emotional investment. It’s hard to care when the main person with an actually tragic backstory interrupts said backstory with a Baskin Robbins ad. It doesn’t come across like the guy is telling the story and that was one of the details, it’s like it was crammed into the script. But that criticism aside, the Eddie Murphy movie was about a dad learning to put family first. What it meant to truly love them. Especially his wife, who he’d especially taken for granted.
There’s a small detail in the script that probably should’ve gotten fleshed out more, where the dad tells his daughter he works so much so he can give her and the family a better life than what he had. And the daughter is like, “wow dad, I didn’t know you had a bad childhood,” and he immediately gets defensive, saying his childhood wasn’t bad. It shows that it’s not that his life was ever hard, he’s just obsessed with prestige. Just like the main villain. Ultimately the dad is able to recognize he can’t give up so easily like he’d done before with working right before the family trip, even if it means losing something he thought he really valued, and without hesitation ruins his BMW to save his family, but the butler can’t get on that level and gets dragged to hell.
It’s not groundbreaking by any stretch but it’s something. Like, there’s an emotional through line there. A character arc.
Compare that to the 2023 version where there’s more this overall theme of, moving on and overcoming grief. And finding strength with others. Again, not groundbreaking but the difference is emotional investment. The movie takes itself more seriously but loses the connection because we only find out what happened to the guy’s wife like well over an hour into it and the bloated cast puts other reveals on the back burner too. Like the priest being a fraud or the fortuneteller’s self worth bit. The priest thing doesn’t get introduced until right before the final confrontation and no one really cares, meanwhile the fortuneteller finds her confidence, OFFSCREEN!
Instead of developing our cast or having them actually interact with the GHOSTS in a HAUNTED MANSION (beyond asking for plot details), we go on a detour to find out who the bad guy is, what his backstory was, and where his hat is. And on this detour we find out he was a horrible no good very bad man so don’t feel bad when he’s dragged down to green hell at the end.
Last note, interesting how both films ended on the saints go marching in and during the day vs at night.
Last last note, Haunted mansion 2023 just didn’t click with me for a variety of reasons. While haunted mansion 2003 isn’t a perfect movie. It’s got issues, I think the mom should’ve figured out the home owner was off way sooner and why didn’t the butler burn the letter, but I like it’s heart.
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avoutput · 4 years ago
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Gaps Between Worlds || Live, Love, Link
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Nothing keeps a story going like a love interest. In almost every adventure story, at some point, the hero flirts with love, falls into it, is blinded by it, or is even betrayed by it. Love is the strongest emotional connection we share as humans, a double edged sword that can drive us, but also hinder us. Even when a story lacks a love interest, the listeners might begin to imagine one just to keep themselves interested. One adventure series has lacked cannon love for such a long time, it's hard to imagine how it’s been kept alive in our collective consciousness for as long as it has. The Legend of Zelda has jump-cut to Link saving Zelda so many times, but remains nebulous on what kind of relationship blossoms from their journey. As a longtime fan, I have been starving for more from the world of Hyrule, and I think fans across the world agree with me. The official Nintendo Hyrule Timeline wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for pressure from the fans. Before that release, it had been locked inside the mind of Miyamoto, creator of the series. But it didn’t really whet my appetite, because what I wanted is to know of Link and Zelda. Today, we are going to explore the facets of Link and Zelda’s many re-incarnated relationships, which could have turned into love, and where they must have gone after Gannon was sealed and their adventure came to an end.
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Before we go any further, the usual caveats to my writing, just so you can get where my head is at. First, I am not going to be super concerned with minute details of the timeline in its purest sense. It has a tenuous linear connection from one game to the next, but it still can provide a little fun for us to speculate on. Second, I have completed every mainline adventure with two exceptions. I have made it to the end of Link’s Adventure and Twilight Princess, but I just never walked up those steps to beat Gannon. I can’t really put my finger on why, but usually I just lost interest by the time I made it to the end of the game. Everything else, including the GB, GBA, and DS releases, I have completed.
In the beginning, one of the most bizarre parts of the overall Zelda lore is how little we actually discuss Link’s obligation to do anything for Zelda. As the games mature, they motivate Link in more realistic ways, but I felt that they mostly lacked a real punch. Lets imagine you DID NOT read the manual for the NES titles, the original LoZ, it just starts by breaking the 4th wall. I always thought it was funny that it just drops you into the mountains with absolutely no direction, as if to say, “You bought the game, dummy, do something! Press a button… ooo… check out that cave!” However, what actually happens is Link saves Zelda’s handmaid, Impa, from an attack by some of Gannon’s henchmen. She then begs him to find the 8 fragments of the Triforce of Wisdom, which Zelda has hidden in 8 dungeons, and he just resolves to do it. In the next game though, she’s just struck with Sleepy Disney Princess disease. Classic. But have you ever noticed that true love’s kiss wasn’t an option here? That’s because Link is not her true love in this incarnation, so he has to kill the curse maker. LoZ and Link’s Adventure are directly related, so we know that in between the two games, they never became lovers. And I don’t know if you need any more proof about these games, but if you ever watched the 80’s Zelda cartoon… you’d know she’s better off.
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Climbing up this timeline, we end up at the incredible Link To The Past, a story that’s titular description kind of defies its storyline unless you are really paying attention. Either way, the game has Link, a descendant of Hyrule Knights, being woken up by a psychic message from Zelda. As usual, Link has no real discernible parentage, but he does start off with an uncle. As I grew up, I often wondered if this was his real uncle or the Asian kind of uncle, just an older man with the same familial distance as an actual uncle, just not actually related. (It goes without saying that the west has this kind of uncle as well, but rarely does it rear its head as ubiquitously as in the east) Who knows what happened to his parents, the game never really goes into it. Either way, he runs into his possibly real uncle after following Zelda’s request, only, he is mortally wounded, and with his final breath, he begs Link to take up his blade and his responsibility. Again, he is motivated simply by some sense of obligation, but there is never a moment's glance of flirtation or love. By the end of the game, he revives his Uncle, the Priest, and the King, only to get on a boat and end up ship wrecked on Koholint island, where he dreams up a girl who is much more likely to become someone he could have a life with rather than Zelda.
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Let’s take a quick moment to recognize Link has about 5 or 6 games that have nothing to do with his relationship to Zelda: Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Seasons/Ages, Majora’s Mask, and Minish Cap to name a few. In these games, it rarely meditates on his relationship to his previous adventure or the girl he left behind. Link is a very forward thinking… little boy? Adolescent? Teenager? It depends on the game. The more I think about this, maybe the more obvious it really is supposed to be. Zelda, Link, and Gannon are reborn into conflict over and over again. It’s possible that the stories that we play through are the only time they are born into a point of conflict. Basically, Link and Zelda might be born into a world without each other. Maybe the world only falls into chaos when all 3 of them are born. Maybe only when a certain amount of power accumulates on the dark side. The story just makes room for whatever it finds appropriate.
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Climbing up the timeline, we get to the only game that implied young romance, Ocarina Of Time. Granted, it kind of dashes this with Majora’s Mask, but it's possible he could return to Hyrule for love. He is only 10. Still, in OoT, Link is the only character that keeps his memory of both the young timeline and the teen timeline. When you think about it, Link is pretty mature for a 10 year old, but waking up in the body of a 17 year old would throw you a bit. People in the future might have found him odd… if they weren’t scattered to the winds and mostly worried about famine, death, and Gannon. In both his young and teen timeline, the Zora princess is very interested in him, and yet, the game still ends with a longing look between Zelda and Link, Link remembering everything, Zelda new to the whole thing. Now, I am willing to admit that as a kid, I probably misread this as a longing look, as an adult, it's really just the culmination of Link’s struggle to finally right all the wrongs, but I was a young shipper, and I wanted everyone to fall in love. (You are reading the thoughts of a boy who was super upset that Ash wasn’t awakened by a kiss from Misty (or Pikachu), and instead the tears of all the Pokemon. I almost walked out of the theater. I was a fresh-faced 13.) Given everything we know about both games, and that we know the timeline splits here, it would stand to reason that since in either case, triumphant or not, Link doesn’t end up making baby Link and Linkles with Zelda. In the Triumphant Timeline Child Era, none of the games end with Link in love, including Twilight Princess. In the Adult Era, the Wind Waker series of games always finds Link closely aligned with Zelda, but the whole cell-shaded, PG universe basically ensures that all the people of Hyrule are grown out of the ground, like palm trees on the beach. In the end, Link always makes for the nearest boat or horse and follows the sun, trying to escape the PTSD that haunts him.
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Finally, at the very beginning of the timeline is the largely maligned Skyward Sword. As of this writing, SS is the supposed beginning to the entire legend. It is also one of the few games where there does seem to be an infatuation between Zelda and Link. Throughout the game, they share what looks to be a mild flirtation. When I thought about this budding romance, I began to think it only appears that way because of some cultural filters. First, Nintendo likes to make games for kids, so they aim to get an E rating by the ESRB. So if we ratchet that up to M, the standard for modern day games if you want people to take them seriously, we can adjust the love meter on scale with E = Sesame Street and M = Breaking Bad. They might as well be engaging in some hard sexting, maybe a couple of low-cut Link bathroom mirror selfies. Don’t worry, he has his famous hat over the goods. Why do you think its shaped like that? Secondly, mild flirting in Japan is the equivalent of hardcore furry S&M in America. In actuality, what you are really seeing is the courtship of Link in a Wolf costume and Zelda dressed as a Fire Keese batting eyes at each other. Truly, in this world, Link and Zelda are destined for each other. They are the only freaks in the sky! With this assumption, I can conclude that the legend only continues because once, at the very beginning of their timeline, the Triforce of Courage and Wisdom banged it out. This could mean there is a whole series of games we have never played where the timeline is split at the top. One in which they have children and one where they don’t. Personally, I look forward to their kids journey in The Legend of Steve, the new holder of the Triforce of Wisdom. Let a girl save the boy for once!
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There is always hope for our legendary heroes. You may not want them to be joined in glorious, child-making coitus, but I always have. I have always found it odd that it doesn’t end like most JRPG’s with a very obvious death of the “mains” so that love can’t blossom, or with a lavish royal wedding. The worst part is that often, Link has many love interests, but none of them are Zelda. There is some hope for them in the new Breath of the Wild timeline, which is supposedly the furthest in the future of the “official” timeline, so much so that there is no connective tissue left, so it might as well be a “new beginning”. I would actually hate for them to finally, really, fall in love in the BotW universe, mostly because it's my least favorite Zelda game of all time, squeaking past Skyward Sword and Wind Waker.  All 3 of which I dislike for a combination of gameplay-style and story, though honestly, the best part of BotW is the story. It's just a game I never want to play again. Rambling aside, I look forward to the fate of love between Zelda and Link in their next chapter. Maybe we’ll finally play as their love child some day. 
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alxndre-0001 · 5 years ago
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Black Mirror Episode Impressions
So I got into watching the series a little before classes begun and here are some thoughts:
Warning: If you don’t like a non-rainbow image of people,then do not proceed.
THE NATIONAL ANTHEM
Fascination over other people’s misery
Aka social voyeurism, our tendency to find satisfaction in other people’s scandal. I feel like the sex with the pig wasn’t the voyeuristic act itself, it is  a stand-in for something far more insidious and cruel, our tendency to fascinate over the humiliation of other people. 
On how public opinion shapes political and personal events
Note how PM Callow was forced to fuck the pig not because of any apparent security reasons to save the princess but it was ultimately the social pressure, which changed overwhelmingly after the finger was cut, that drove him on. The social pressure which was misinformed since the netizens who clamored for it did not really understand the problem behind closed lines. They merely relied on media which was twisted to cater to sensationalism and people’s natural love for anything scandalous. In effect, PM Callow fucked the pig.
But it wasn’t only that event which was shaped by public opinion, I think the suicide of the artist/ kidnapper was also egged on by public opinion that is if we assume that he did all of that to prove a point, like a social experiment that people will forget about the kidnapping if they are presented with something as horrendous as fucking a pig. His point having been proven, his predictions were confirmed that people are truly fucking terrible.  And it depressed him so bad enough to kill himself. But this theory backfires if we assume that he planned everything out and knew what was going to happen down to the very last detail. The other reason for his suicide, for me, and which I think is more far fetched is that upon seeing the pig fucking on the telly, he actually participated in the hypocrisy of the masses which he dared to expose. The artist, if I remember correctly, actually sat and watched Callow as he fucked the pig, if he did know his plan was going to work anyway, why sit and revel in the disgusting horrowshow? Perhaps he found himself fascinated by the scandal as well? I don’t know but the artist’s suicide is the most baffling angle in the episode for me.
Public opinion causes movement both on a social and personal scale. 
Our words have an impact to shape reality, if Callow was not pressured to fuck the pig, he wouldn’t have had. But one cut finger later, and the tides of the masses changed.
But there is also an interesting angle about the performance art of the artist. If the whole pig fucking thing was meant to be taken as an art work, then the artist’s statement makes a lot of sense. Often in art, even in literature, art works with controversial value (think Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, Egon Schiele’s artworks, Balthus with Therese, Dreaming) often become sensational because of the controversy they generate. The masses no longer see the whole point of the artwork. In Lolita for example, the people pounced on the pedophilia and incest plot of the book when all Nabokov really wanted to portray was something else entirely, that Humbert was a bad man and that he hopes readers should not be easily taken in by the poetic words of a madman and essentially an unreliable narrator. But the merit of Lolita as an artwork was reduced to its shock value, the entertainment which people consume.  
Similarly, in this episode, the artist wanted to send the message: Look beyond the entertainment to see something far more important (i.e look beyond Callow’s sex with a pig to see that the Princess was indeed freed). But of course, humanity being the disappointing lot that we are, glued our eyes to the pig fucking. I started to realize what a truly fantastic show BM is from this point on because it did not only criticque the people who watched the pig fucking and literally dropped everything they were doing to do just that. It also criticqued US, the audience that watched the episode itself. I admit that while the pig fucking was going on, I wasn’t even thinking about the princess and whether she was alive. I was only absorbed by the scandalous thing happening right before me. Who am I to criticize the citizens when I am just like them? This is the self-awareness that sets apart this episode from the others, I guess. It was like watching a microcosm of real life, the ultimate Black fucking Mirror – like looking at yourself in a mirror only to find that your image has been darkened by so much filth, our darkest tendencies being handed to us in one show. Great first episode, by the way, Brooker.
The fact that two months after the pig fucking, the whole thing was forgotten, people moved on with their lives which scares me tbh. This only goes to show that we have become desensitized with the sensationalism and violence that goes on in the real world as it is shown almost daily whether in newspapers or television. Reminds me of what Susan Sontag said in her work, “Regarding the Pain of Others” where she cites the influx of violence and brutality in television as having altered the way we empathize about real people and real world events. The word is desensitization. And it is true, when we reduce real events into mere forms of entertainment, we dilute their gravity as events with consequences on real people.
It was believed by the French Enlightenment thinkers that distance ( a child from UK may not empathize with an enslaved child in a Boko Haram situation  because of geographical constraints) and time (zeitgest, generational gap) delays our moral response. The distance in this episode and in real life as well is the technology. The screens in our televisions and computers, create a distance which delays and frustrates our ability to protest to morally objectionable acts and to truly connect with each other. Or we may protest, but it is fleeting or hollow – we may protest that there is child slavery in Nigeria but it stops there, we move on. Take the people at the pub for example, the ones holding their mugs of beer anticipating Callow’s humiliation, acting as if what was about to happen was the fucking Superbowl, they look as if Callow was not a person, like Callow was not even one of them. Nobody really thought about the humiliation Callow could be feeling at that very instant. They did, however manage to feel some form of sympathy for him midway but sympathy is not empathy much less compassion. Someone even said feeling sorry for somebody can be a mere recognition of the fact that you’re doing so much better than the other person.
WHITE CHRISTMAS
Does existence need to have a body? Or is it the mind that gives existence to a person?
Are the cookies an extension of the person or are they a different entity from the person himself herself? I find it odd because they can be given punishment although they do not cause any effect to the original as in Joe’s case. If the purpose was to punish then necessarily, the cookie should have been considered a different entity but still an extension of the original, forming part of the original, even if it feels like a simulation of the real us. 
Is it just the real person who can be punished? Who knows in the future, a simulation of us can also be punished. Akin to our social media selves, in a sense the persona we have in social media are mirrors, mere shadows of our real selves, just like cookies, they are a fragment of ourselves. Our online personas or cookies can be punished as well despite them just abstracts of us when we are subject to online humiliation, criticism, our online selves can be manipulated as well by companies who profit from it, like Smartintelligence.
In the very last scene, the people gave Joe’s cookie an existence enough to consider its confession as legally binding to convict a person. They did not treat it as mere evidence but something that could speak for itself, one woman even saying in the effect that Joe need not talk as the cookie already talked for him. Also the part where Joe’s cookie was subjected to repeated punishment. If it was considered as punishment, then necessarily, one must consider his cookie as existent in the first place? No one can punish a non existence after all.
Matt’s ending was fitting, like “a taste of his own medicine” kind of thing, pretty ironic in my opinion because in the first scene with the cookie of the woman, he controlled the cookie, forcing it to submit to whatever he wanted. But in the ending scene, he was deprived of his own existence, he was made invisible because he was basically a non-person, as if he does not really exist. It’s also kind of snarky how in the first few scenes, he said that people did not want to feel invisible and yet that was exactly what happened to him. In a sense, he is just like the cookie of the woman, he is deprived an existence of his own through the conditions imposed on his freedom by the prison authorities. Notice that in both cases, their existence are conditional, the woman’s cookie to the whims of Matt, Matt is totally blocked from anyone through the whims of the the prison officials or whatever they are called. Since they have no freedom on their own, we can say they are tools, they do not exist.
Which also reminds me of one idea which goes like this: a self cannot be created without others. Does Matt still exist when others are totally effaced in/from his life? How can he have a self(existence) when he could no longer jnteract with others? I feel like Matt’s punishment is even more cruel that that of Joe’s
Torture can also be of different forms
Will it be ethical if we create versions of ourselves in the future without giving them the same rights as we do have? Are copies of us considered as humans?
The similarity in White Bear where there was some sort of a cycle of punishment. I find it interesting, the repetitive nature of punishments to highlight their meaninglessness and banality.
WHITE BEAR
Public persecution through social media or the internet.
Our particular inclination to fascinate on other people’s misery.
“Are the sound waves making them behave like that?”
“Maybe they’ve always been that way, they just needed the rules to change.” 
Well, interesting to note because technology (the white bear radio waves) are mere enablers of our innate tendencies to enjoy other people’s misery, be it in social media or otherwise.
Using the excuse of serving justice as a veil for such tendencies, when in truth we become even more brutal than the people we condemn. Ironic that we condemn rapists, murderers, terrorists, people who dehumanize others but in our condemnation, we have dehumanized such people as well.
Social media to ventilate social outrage which becomes quite easily disproportionate. It becomes a place to condemn people.
Shockingly unfair that Victoria did not know what she was being accused of, yet people do not really point this out. Her lack of knowledge about her alleged crimes or the fact that she was an accused in the first place makes this episode almost Kafkaesque ala The Trial, although later on we do know what she is accused of. Is it ethical in the first place to condemn a woman who has no idea what she is being accused of? Is justice merely carrying out the punishment or does it also concern giving a fair trial to a person?
The performative nature of social media in expressing social outrage, in fact everything in this episode feels like a performance. The participation of the viewers, the whole structure of the show hinges on performance, the value of entertainment even to the detriment and humiliation of very real people. Our humiliation  becomes a commodity for people to consume.
On the punishment of Victoria It is cruel because she is made to relive the humiliation several times and yet her memory is erased every single time. If the point of the punishment is to reform Victoria (assuming it really is) then why not let her reform on her own and understand the consequences of her actions? This is where the intent of the punishment is revealed— the punishment means nothing, it is not meant to reform any criminal or prevent any form of future criminality, it is merely a performance after all. It is absolutely meaningless. I wonder if our criminal justice system operates on the same principle – the meaninglessness of punishment which is fundamentally cruel because it completely dehumanizes the accused.
FIFTEEN MILLION MERITS
The myth of meritocracy 
Notice how the bikers are basically given the false hope that they could escape their monotonous daily lives if they could only earn enough credits to buy a ticket to enter Hot Shot and have a chance to elevate their status in society. One finally gets the credits, buys a ticket to HotShot, however this is where the myth falls apart. Notice how Abi, basically within the first few minutes that she got in the rehearsal room was already asked to go on stage, on the ground, as we later learn that she was attractive. She did not even get to sing in the rehearsal room the judges barely considered her singing voice despite her having the best voice thus far in the competition or something like that according to one judge. One of the girls in the rehearsal room was practically complaining that dhe had been singing for a week yet Abi gets scouted first, the girl who just stepped inside the room like five minutes ago. Notice also that Bing was scouted on the basis that he looked “ethnic”. Both Abi and Bing’s talents, merits or what have yous flew off the window the moment their physical qualities became the basis for letting them go on stage. What happened to good old talent and skill?
On the “ethnic” comment, I find it quite racist, as it feels like it referenced how white people exoticize Black people.
Meritocracy is a lie because in this episode, one’s hardwork and talents did not become the reason for how Abi and Bing escaped the bike room. Abi got out because she was hot and perfect for porn, her singing was discarded. Bing on the other hand, got out because he sold out. It wasnt his talent that made him leave the biking room, it was the shock value of his dissent which appealed to the judges and the masses and not his prepared dance.
Bing is a tragic anti hero because unlike Abi who had compliance juice which coerced her to porn, Bing had none and consented fully to his own exploitation. He was adamant about the hypocrisy of consumerism, the endemic classism in that world, capitalism and so on. However, the moment he benefited from the system that actively exploits others including himself, he sold out. He took the benefit and forgot the cause. This is not very different from people who are fully aware how a system creates inequality to others, but because of the advantage they acquire from such system, they refuse to question the status quo. In Bing’s case, he pretends to criticque the system with his shard of glass, but it is a hollow dissent, it’s all just fashion, there is no conviction or real belief to it, at least no longer.
On the nature of exploitation
 The reason Bing went to the show was his rage against the exploitation that the system were committing against basically everyone. But he eventually played by the system which he used to critique.  Which brings the question, is Bing still exploited? He who has actively consented to the exploitation of the system just so he could live a better life? Will his consent erase the exploitative nature of the deal he got?
An example: are employees who are basically treated like slaves, no wages, no rights no nothing, any different from a class of employees who are given high bonuses, plenty of benefits but are not allowed to unionize or bargain with their employers although they willingly disregard such abuses because of the benefits they receive? I think they’re both exploited just on different levels. Just because one receives benefits from an exploitative system, does not mean they are no longer exploited, exploitation does not need to be total for it to be exploitation. Just because something is wrapped in something pretty, does not mean it is good.
Similarly, Bing’s participation in that very same system, makes him exploited despite his better life and richer status. He only got out of s smaller box to go to a bigger box, and yet the reality of the exploitation still remains, the system still fucks him over, he hasnt really gotten out. In fact, this time it’s worse, the system has profited from his outrage, the only thing which sustained him and which remained real and authentic to him. He laments during his performance that the system makes everything real into the artificial shit it sells to the masses. But that’s exactly what he became in the end, he was a COMMODITY, his individuality as a person was reduced to nothing but consumption for the audience. And this is why he is an anti hero. Imo
Which makes the ending even sadder. Bing looks out on a seemingly real landscape view, drinks a fresh juice from a jug very different from the vending machine crap he used to get before, and despite the debate on whether the view was real or simulated, one wonders still that Bing got his new, “authentic” lifestyle from reducing his individuality as a commodity, from bare exploitation of the system which he now participates, so are they real, afterall? One musician said, is something beautiful if it came from ugliness? Is something authentic if it came from exploitation?
Commentary on how capitalism exploits what is authentic and real to something  that can be consumed or basically, a product. Capitalism operates on taking advantage of other people as well as anything real and genuine in this world, making a product out of all of them. In this way, capitalism objectifies people ( as in the way Abi was reduced to her beauty and entertainment value for porn), it is a system that slowly dehumanizes the worth of a person. And yet, the masses love it,we love objectifying people for our benefit, to entertain us etcetera etcetera. I feel like the reference in the episode to reality talent shows was not very accurate but still a good one. I would have liked it if the producers used a more relevant kind of reality show which operates on other people’s drama (Keeping up with the Kardashians, Jersey Shore and basically other shows that thrive on scandal) because it much likely depicts our tendency to make entertainment of other people’s lives. Where does one draw the line? Reality tv has been such a part of us and though I don’t particularly enjoy them because of the sheer and blatant script behind their “real” interactions, but I also don’t know. Television and the internet has become such a ubiquitous media form that people can hardly be blamed for failing to assess the kind of entertainment they consume.  But just a quick snarky comment, the Kardashians are just like Bing, they play by the system,of course they have amassed an empire out of it, but still doesnt change the reality that they are a product of the system, the system that thrives on this exploitation.  
Again, what an interesting episode. I love episodes that analyze our relationship with media and the entertainment we consume because as much as we’d like to believe television and media are just for fun, they aren’t. In fact, I think media has the most insidious kind of influence on anyone, and also most subtle because some references and statements can be jacketed into harmless, good fun. Again this echoes, at least for me, the message in The National Anthem , that through media and television we create a distance between one another, delaying our moral response to things which may be otherwise exploitative.
SHUT UP AND DANCE
The hypocrisy of vigilante  justice. The people in Shut Up and Dance had their own brand of justice which involves taking the law into their own hands. But in doing so they resort to highly questionable methods such as coercing the criminals into various other crimes.  I feel like this kind of meting out a penalty in the name of “justice” is fatal for several reasons. One, this encourages a sort of moral superiority exercised without individual responsibility. Note that the hackers were the ones who can determine who were the criminals to be punished and for what punishment they should be given in relation to the seriousness of their crimes, what then was the basis for their standard of someone committing a wrong?  When justice is determined by a select few, it becomes no justice at all and opens the gates for abuses. The hackers could easily base the misdeeds of their victims on purely arbitrary grounds and subject anyone, even on the flimsiest misconducts into excessive punishments.
Conscience as the best judge The hackers code of justice seems not to be based on the law, the hackers did not after all say Kenny and the rest committed violations of the law, instead they operate by relying on the pressure created by personal conscience. Note that the hackers mainly blackmailed the victims to a release of the incriminating videos or whatever, however the victims were driven with fear knowing that what they did had moral consequences whether to their reputation or families.
The hackers were clever not because they laid out almost unexpected traps but because they force the victims to face their own conscience, to take individual responsibility for their actions, that which they believed they were protected from because all their crimes or misdeeds were done in anonymity, in secrecy. The conscience being a powerful motivator, the hackers were very subtle in their coercion,  as they did not even have to directly present the horrific effects in the even the videos or objects get leaked to the public.
Excessive punishments
This episode together with White Bear, White Christmas and Hated in a Nation all deal with how punishments are given and considered.  Note how the structure of the narrative are different for White Bear, White Christmas, Shut Up and Dance. In these episodes, the audience is hidden from the fact that the main protagonists are criminals convicted for some crimes ( Victoria with child murder, Kenny for child porn, Joe with murder???). In fact, the stories are told in a way as if to humanize the criminals as they were later on subjected to horrific punishment after the audience is made privy that they indeed committed some horrible thing. Unlike in Hated in a Nation, the narrative was pretty upfront that the targeted individuals were somehow already publicly condemned albeit for very slight misconducts and or misinterpreted, blown out of proportion statements.
I suspect there is one very good reason for doing so. In all these episodes, a very crucial theme presented was the question of whether excessive punishment even for the worst criminals (Victoria, Kenny) was ethical. Note that social punishment being one of the main premise, the writers of Black Mirror must have realized that for us to look at  punishment as immoral and inhuman, we need to look at it objectively without the crimes committed by Kenny and Victoria being factored in. Black Mirror seems to be saying this kind of excessive punishment is immoral and inhuman and cruel in all instances whether done upon a guilty or innocent person. Suppose in the very beginning of White Bear, we already learned that Victoria helped and watched on as a child was being murdered by her boyfriend, would that have changed the way we looked at how she was basically maltreated the entire time? Knowing our tendency to believe that the very worst criminals deserve the worse treatment, I bet many people would say Victoria being tortured in such manner was justified. In fact, there was a survey online about whether she deserved her lot and unsurprisingly, majority believed she truly had it coming (compare it if Victoria was perfectly innocent). For them, it was justified because she’s an absolute scum from the lowest depths of misery and so she must be horribly treated. But because the narrative was structured in a way that we see Victoria and Kenny as humans first before criminals, we were forced to reconsider the torture and social humiliation done upon their person. We think, “Wait up, was it really right, what they did to these two?”. If we knew them as criminals first, we would have responded differently, that Victoria and Kenny deserve even more beating and cruelty. But such thinking is deeply flawed. THIS KIND OF PUNISHMENT IS WRONG IN ALL INSTANCES WHETHER DONE UPON A GUILTY OR INNOCENT PERSON. Black Mirror is saying to judge the wrongness of an act, we must look at the act itself and not the person who committed the act. The wrongness of an act does not change just because it is being done upon a terrible person. To think otherwise, to believe that the wrongness of an act is relative to the person who did it means to have a partial idea of justice, that justice is kinder only to those who are infallible, those who have never done any mistake, those who possess no flaws. Criminals after all, have rights and in no way I am saying they should be exempt from the law. By all means, jail those menaces but give them their due.
See how narrative structure can be so powerful? In the beginning, we are fooled that Kenny and Victoria are perfectly fine individuals who were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Tabula rasas, no stains. Of course, the audience would have a deep sense of injustice, I dont know about anyone, but I did with Kenny, because I wrongfully believed he was a minor ( lol the actor looked so young) and looked utterly horrified for something so innocent such as jacking off in-front of a camera, like big fucking deal, right? It isn’t a crime, surely. And yet when the plot twist was subtly but beautifully delivered at the end, I was forced to face the moral ambiguity of the whole situation. Was it wrong to coerce Kenny to commit more crimes and kill another person? Was it wrong for the hackers to release the video and not have kept the end of the deal? Or was it perfectly justified because Kenny was a fucking pedophile and just imagine the children in those photos who are fucking jacked off by some person? And this is the true gift of Black Mirror, to place us at morally ambiguous points about our use of technology to justify our transgressions against other people. Moral ambiguity is the best way to present satire and commentary without the show becoming preachy about some moral code, Black Mirror allows for the audience to think for what they may but first consider the consequences.
I see this all the time especially with criminals of heinous crimes, social media outrage pours on, often wishing ill to such people. And though I understand and empathize with the outrage, and though social media outrage has no substantial effect to the meting out of the final punishment, we cannot deny that we are guilty to the thinking that cruel acts are justified when done to cruel persons. We have the tendency to view justice as some sort of a thing which can be deserved only by good people and not those who have failed morally or otherwise, in some way. That’s why we have right to due process, why we still give fair trial to an accused even if his case is so damning, precisely because we recognize that justice is for everyone.
Having said that, I think Kenny needs to go to jail and FAST however he did not deserve all the psychological torture and manipulation. Aside from those other acts he did unwillingly, his punishment should only concern that for the child porn however he was driven to commit robbery and even had to undergo having to kill someone. The punishment was severely disproportionate from the crime he was supposedly being judged for. We live in a society with such a flawed sense of justice.
Black Mirror as a whole
And yet the most persistent message so far by Black Mirror, is that try as we may to criticize the people in their universe, we are very much part of that world. The ridiculous people of the UK, the audience in Hot Shot, hell, by watching the show itself – which is in an entertainment form, we can become complicit to the exploitation in media. In fact, I noticed how many BM episodes, show the very performative side of the internet and essentially of humanity– everything is a performance, there is an actor, and there is the audience who benefits from the show.
Shut up and Dance for example reminds me of a puppeteer show, Kenny and Hector and several others, dance to the music of the hackers, their actions are controlled as if with strings in a puppet show. Also the title itself shut up and dance, maybe it’s a song, but we know someone else is shutting them up, making them mere puppets of the show. Also, the ending music which was truly haunting and disturbing, was one of-my favorite songs during high school. It is called Exit Music by Radiohead which was supposedly to be used in a Romeo and Juliette movie, the one with Leo DiCaprio and Claire Danes, a story based on a play.
In Nosedive, Lacie was unhealthily obsessed with putting up a show for everyone to give her the social approval and validation she needed to hike up her ratings. The technology in their world also exploits this need to feel seen, to feel important, to feel that one matters despite it being provisional, the rating system system presents a very classist way of categorizing people based on the social ratings given by just about anybody.
In White Bear, Victoria was subjected to a series of humiliations and brutal attacks only to realize that what she went through was a simulation of the kidnapping and murder to a child she committed with her boyfriend. She was revealed into an audience, who enjoyed each and every instance of her suffering and I believe they even paid for the show? Though she is a criminal, was it really justified, the performance derived from someone’s misery?
Some people said it was an amusement park, like a carnival. In fact, now that I think about it, Victoria does feel like a caged animal, the whole town is her whole cage. The people who take pictures of her down the road resemble onlookers in a carnival show where because of an attraction’s grotesque nature, they are fascinated to take pictures of it. She is subjected to multiple tricks, just like a lion in a carnival, where she expected to bring out a most pleasing experience for the crowd. The fact that she is a tamed animal made for performance is brought down by the fact that each day she has to forget the previous events, otherwise her horror, her suffering and her utter ignorance for the cause of it all which is the selling point of the show would be lost and the show would become uninteresting to the public.
White Bear is so interesting to me as a manifestation of the performative capacities of technology and of men because we already see it happening right now. In Twitter for example, a man who by sheer amount of fake news or misinformation can quite easily become the hunted in a public persecution. Granted Victoria is a whole different situation because she is actually a criminal, however, sometimes we mask our love for entertainment regardless of who suffers in a sense of social outrage, justice, horror to moral violations but the truth of it all is our hypocrisy. We don’t really want justice to be served, we just want a stage to present that we are morally superior than other people. And I deeply lament that. There is a thin line between expressing opinions on social injustices or crimes and enjoyment over other people’s misery. Regardless of whether the person is criminal or an innocent person, this kind of social performance and dark pleasure is unjustified.
This is really no different from public executions all through out history. I always wondered about the appeal of such events which bring hordes of onlookers as if putting a person in the guillotine was so entertaining. Some people say it was to deter crimes by showing a horrific picture of what can happen as a punishment. If it’s really about that that brought the audience, they why go to witness an execution, the knowledge itself that the guillotine is where criminals end is enough to scare some people. But I think it is more than that, maybe it’s also about social voyeurism, a dark fascinating picture of another person’s suffering, the “thank god it’s not me” mentality. The audience from the public executions in France is really no different from the people in Hated in A Nation or White Bear. We just look because something suffering can be entertaining especially if done on people we particularly dislike, we do nothing until we become the hunted and see how exactly that feels like. There’s a word psychology gives to it: SCHADENFREUDE, or the feeling of pleasure one gets from the misery of others.
and so on...
HATED IN THE NATION
The excess of call out culture — the plot revolved around personas who mysteriously die one by one until it was discovered that they were actually attacked online days prior for some unpopular remarks. The cause of death? Bees or ADIs supposedly made to function like real bees who can cross pollinate flowers. The episode, for me, examined the effects and ignorance of call out culture which can escalate from genuine offense at someone’s statement or action to a witch hunt of some sorts, sometimes even leading to death threats. The journalist, the rapper and the random lady all did something very minor and not even illegal to warrant them becoming the victims of the DeathTo hashtag. It’s also quite obvious why the producers used bees to represent as the attackers, hives of bees = hive mentality.
Individual responsibility — the hacker, upon his manifesto being found out, laments that the people who participated in the DeathTo hashtag were irresponsible, that they refused to consider the consequences of their actions or to take individual responsibility for their participation. I also wonder why the internet seems to dilute our understanding of individual responsibility.
Which reminds me, of one activity we did in Philo class in college, our professor asked what if we all had a cloak of invisibility like Harry Potter, what would be the first thing we’d do? A lot of us, unsurprisingly answered robbing a bank or retaliating on someone who had wronged us in the past. Either way, all the answers were more or less conventionally wrong. She asked us to participate in that activity either before or after she showed us the White Bear episode. It was only after a few years that I realized the crucial question she wanted us to explore: Why does anonymity (both in social media and in terms of hiding behind the cloak) increase our propensity to do wrong? The obvious answer is people are often only encouraged to do good because others are looking. That is not to say it is wrong but for me there is also another reason and which I wondered many times — anonymity shields us from personal responsibility. The internet, anonymity gives us a reprieve from the reality that our freedom goes in two ways, our actions have consequences
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virtualfindingsdocumented · 5 years ago
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u asked for it. top 5 wack fandom takes on vfd politics and what u think is actually right
I was almost falling asleep in a class I can't afford to miss when I saw this and it woke me up faster than any energetic drink would.
All respect to people who think differently, of course.
1- VFD always kills the parents of the recruited children, and always has
I think everyone and their mothers (well, my mother at least) finished TUA and TPP thinking this is the case, but when you think about it it doesn't make a lot of sense on the long term for an organization to work like this, when we consider most parents seem to be volunteers too. While there is an argument that getting three children for the "price" of two parents could be a good deal, those children are untrained, and have to go through a whole process before they can even start the training (as described in the meeting in TUA).
Plus, the executions would have to be carried by volunteers too, and I can't imagine this working long term either. Eventually, someone would have to have been tasked to kill a volunteer that they couldn't. Eventually someone would have to have spilled the secret. Eventually someone in charge of this would want to do something differently.
So, even if killing the parents is something that is done, I believe this would have started around Schism time because at that specific point there must have been volunteers wanting to leave and take their children with them, together with the disagreements between volunteers. Because it was not something that was done, the parents who died were ones that would never expect their fellow volunteers to turn on them like this.
But my main theory about this is that the high number of orphans with weirdly similar backstories is actually a freaky coincidence, in a way. It was totally VFD's fault, but it wasn't executions. More like:
- A number of volunteers had enemies who would love to kill them with fire at any point, so them dying this way isn't particularly weird. Their job put them in this risk.
- Some of the deaths are so close to the children being recruited because sending their children to VFD's care was a way to protect them from these enemies. You are an adult volunteer and you realize you pissed more people off this month, so you send the children away so they will not get caught in the fight. (Check next theory)
- Specific families were targeted by not so well intentioned volunteers for money/revenge/whatever. Those not so well intentioned volunteers arranged to kill the parents and maybe even get their hands on their children ala Olaf and the Baudelaires but it was an individual thing, not a VFD thing or even a Firestarter thing.
- Problematic volunteers who had children may have been targeted by VFD as an organization rather than by individuals as it was seen they were a "lost cause" but the children could still "be saved". It was still an exception and not a rule.
Like I said, all is still VFD's fault, but not a planned mass execution plot.*
(*Maybe in the case of non-volunteer parents it is planned execution though, but how common these even are.)
2- They don't ask permission first
The whole recruitment thing described in that FAQ in TUA is so detailed and specific that it is a waste to think it is just a lie. Also, it isn't like real life parents don't send their children to bad places all the time, if only you say the right words to them.
I believe the parents, specially volunteer parents, are in to the whole thing, more or less.
They are asked permission, but to reasonable things like taking their children to receive top level education, visit incredible places around the world, learn skills they wouldn't learn anywhere, so on... As they metaphorically sign the contract they are probably not aware of the paragraphs in small print there.
Hiding the specifics is enough for non volunteer parents, and volunteer parents are for most times already so used to that life style that they don't need a lot of convincing.
Likewise, the children are aware to some point of what is going on. What would be the point of a FAQ like that if potential new volunteers are not going to read it? Again, they don't know the whole story, just the fun and exciting parts!
As a last note on the recruitment subject, my reading of the story in The Little Snicket Lad and Lemony's notes on it is that Jacob was on board on the thing (since he seemed to be there the whole time and did nothing to stop it) while E seems like she didn't know the recruitment would be on that specific night (or else she would be home to say goodbye) but she knew it was a thing that would happen at some time. Considering this likely happened very near the Schism, I think something made it not go as it should, and that's why E didn't know.
3- Kit is a "brainwashed volunteer"/extremely pro-VFD
Every time I see a post like this I am amazed at how differently we can interpret the same things. For me, Kit seems to be aligned to Lemony when it comes to VFD, and Lemony is consistently shown to be the most anti-VFD volunteer on the firefighting side.
Lemony and Kit work together in whatever rebel plot they had in ATWQ, and while we don't know the aftermath of that, they are working together again by TPP time as is canonically confirmed from the mentions of her in TSS and TGG, and that not counting the theories of L being JS and/or the taxi driver and being directly involved with the sugar bowl plot (which, if he was, may not even be VFD approved).
Also, when Dewey speaks of his hopes for the Thursday meeting, he says that it will change VFD's smoke and mirrors thing.
(Of course, since it is all so vague, it opens room for more complicated and messy possibilities, but still.)
And the way Widdershins spoke of the Snicket siblings... I don't think they would get to that status if they always played by VFD's rules.
4- Beatrice II was kidnapped by VFD
Don't underestimate her.
Beatrice was getting out of options, failing to get in touch with Lemony, so she went to VFD fully knowing who they were, as a last attempt to find out more. It's no coincidence she got in the same class as he did so many years previously.
She used VFD to get the information she wanted. Whether that was a good or a bad idea, that's another matter.
5- VFD's leadership and leaving VFD ("VFD is a cult")
I have posted about this before, but I must insist I don't think such a thing exists. And whatever once existed was already weakened by ATWQ time (a 13 years old and his sister did mess up a big fragmented plot on their own).
VFD is most likely a bunch of people who think they are the smartest ones around doing whatever they feel like and messing up what others are doing.
There are factions and alignments but no hierarchy.
This brings dark conclusions, such as no one would have given the order for B and B to kill Olaf's parents.
So we lack the characteristic leader figure a cult would have, like Ishmael is for the islanders.
Also, there is the whole "you can't leave" idea and I like the drama it brings, but it isn't a "you can't leave, if you do we will kill you" and more a "you can't truly leave because you can't erase what you've done and the memories you have and the consequences that will one day catch up to you".
No one went after Josephine or Hector to try bringing them back, for example, and Olaf only got to them because of the Baudelaire children. Beatrice and Bertrand lived in luxury and peace and their children grew up unharmed until their deaths. And you don't see active volunteers insulting "retired" volunteers and vice versa. Which also breaks another main cult trait.
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daydreamindollie · 6 years ago
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m.yg | The Innocent and The Sinful
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Fragments Series: Just another incomplete written piece/plan/idea - not edited, not proofread, just raw writing w/ my notes 
|| opposites attract oneshot series ||
A/N: Yoongi’s one, I actually dusted up quite a bit so there aren’t any notes, just pure writing. I was ready to write an extended, very steamy scene in this but I guess that intimidated me and made me mentally shut down when writing this knowing that I had planned such a scene for the future of this oneshot. Don’t get me wrong, I was really excited to be writing smut for the first time...but, I also get nervous really easily and I’m a perfectionist+procrastinator - not a good combination! 
WARNING: May contain some conflict and violence nothing 
✚          ✚          ✚
The probability that two drastically opposing worlds should collide was highly unlikely, even more so the fact that they should harmonise under aesthetic melodies, and yet, despite this common perspective, it seems as though the path of two repelling ways of life magnetise along their way, and consequently, cross directions.
Such an innocuous stammer within one's path appears as irrelevant as the frequent act of unnamed strangers brushing shoulders, but an interaction must never be underestimated as the world's way of making an individual's tilted stage right again, can be a very peculiar thing.
A night out with the usual gaggle of friends was well underway, falling upon its second hour the instant the clock ticked past eleven thirty (evening).
It was clear from the many blokes, who flashed ill grins upon catching the glint of uncertainty in your eyes, that this was an unfamiliar atmosphere for you, and suddenly, your friends' offer for free food and subsequent peaceful nights-in, no longer seemed worth-it as the sweat of discomfort tickled your brow.
"You look very tense there sweetpea!" Jia, the usual 'mother' of the group and your roommate, shouted from beside you, barely succeeding in overcoming the suffocating blare of music, "Have a drink and lighten up!" she encouraged, being strangely negligent to the obvious consequence of alcohol, especially in your circumstance. Not only were you a lightweight but everybody else within your group was drunk beyond the line of no return and someone needed to be responsible. 
It wasn't going to be Jia, definitely not - leaving only you.
"No thank you Unnie, I think I'll just go out for some fresh air." hefting a heavy sigh, you flashed a reassuring smile before making your way out. A clearing of the mind requires a cleaning of the air.
"You're telling me," Yoongi stressed, an influential figure despite his diminutive build, "that nothing can be done to solve this." his voice hard and his eyes cold, a visible shiver rattled the spine of his unfortunate man of business.
"I'm sorry b-" the man attempted, only to be talked over by a booming voice.
"'Sorry' isn't going to fix things you little bastard, now, if you don't want my men coming after you, and the people you care about, then you better shut that bullshit-talking mouth of yours and get things done because I don’t pay you to hear crap fall out your asscrack of a mouth - got it?" the fire in his eyes was raging and untamed, hoping to rampage and set ablaze all that dared confront it - the poor man before him being the first victim, with licking flames already setting his toe-curled feet ablaze.
"Y-Yes S-“
"Now get the fuck out of my sight." once the stammering man had finally left, pudgy face sweating bullets of liquid fat and spindly thin hair clumping at his expansive forehead, Yoongi turned to his men. There was evident stress knotting his usually undisturbed brows. "I'm going for a smoke. I'll be back in thirty minutes.”
Hissing at the bite of your stiletto heels, you attempt to savour the crisp night air without grimacing at the filth surrounding you, only able to fully disregard it by tilting your head towards the star-dusted night sky. Slowly, your mind began to clear and a small smile pinched your flustered cheeks, bad experiences truly brought out the good in all the little things - much like the majestic beauty of the night.
So spellbound by the charm of the late evening, you were innocent to the approaching danger, coming at you in the form of an intoxicated, stout man, drenched in a scented smog of liquor. He had no real intention of anything ill and would've let you be if he hadn't drowned himself in the immoral fluid beforehand.
Now, all acts and thoughts were unfiltered and ethics were cleared off his table of prioritised considerations.
At the sight of your figure, hugged tightly by the dark fabric of your dress, an animalistic growl of unadulterated desire left his chapped lips and, noticing your impervious state, he strides forward carelessly.
Taking a chance on his luck, he smiled satisfactorily when he stumbled into your frail figure and smirked at the vulnerable squeal that left your delicate lips when his heavyset frame fell onto yours and forced you against the cold brick wall.
Regardless of Yoongi's pronounced reliance on nicotine during times of distress, he never truly liked the act of smoking; he always grimaced in the seconds leading up to lighting the cancer stick before inhaling a breath.
Another thing that he absolutely detests, in spite of his criminal line of work, was the sight and racket of harassment, especially now, when his wick of tolerance had already been burned up to only a hair's breadth from the night's deficient chain of events. Using up the last of that wick, Yoongi could only stand for less than a minute before he stuffed the cigarette back in its packet and approached the inebriated attacker.
"Hey, asshat," he grumbled, waiting for the man to turn before landing a heavy blow to his jaw, knocking him out cold with the propelled force of his frustrations. It was definitely a good way of de-stressing and Yoongi would have taken up boxing if he wasn't so indolent with the burdens of his position. Hence why, when Yoongi knew the harasser was down for the count, at just one hit, he stepped away and finally lit his cigarette - he probably wouldn't finish it completely after such relief. 
He didn't care for the girl the man was molesting, he only wanted peace and quiet when having his smoke but probably secretly wanted to punch a man as well - any man - after such vexing news was delivered to him tonight. For that reason, he didn't pay you any mind and selfishly savoured the silence as he took a drag. 
This man was something unworldly to you. He had taken on a bozo twice his size and won with just a single hit, now, he was lighting a cigarette, going about his business as if what he had just done was nothing out of the ordinary. 
Stepping closer and scrutinising his anatomy within the moonlight revealed how truly exquisite he was. His lean, ample limbs were garbed in a fitted black suit, darker than night and appearing silky under the rough stare of yellow street lamps. 
Supple ivory skin stretched over the features you were able to see bare: his face, neck and hands. The milky expanse of his nape silently pleaded for the sinful mark of bruising kisses, unsatisfied with the ink of a spiralling tattoo that climbed three delicious inches up the side of his neck, leading your mind to darkly ponder where it starts under the collar of his shirt. The hand he had holding the cigarette had long fingers with bulging veins decorating its back, leaving a simply intricate ring to embellish one elegant finger. His mysterious eyes were half hooded by a shadow containing undisclosed secrets that you yearned to acquaint yourself with, loving how the breath of smoke he exhaled spiralled into distinctive art before disappearing. 
Building up the courage, you stepped further forward, "u-umm..." you timidly began, “Thank-"
"Go home." he blatantly hissed, not sparing you a glance and, instead, took the time for another puff. Your morals weren't as such, however, because you needed to thank someone whose actions were worth appreciating, but as you stuttered to protest, he brushed you off once more.
"C-can I at least buy you lunch?-“
"Look, I didn't do it to help you, I just wanted some peace and quiet. Now, if you have half the brain that I think you do, then you'll take this chance to get the fuck out of here.”
Naturally, you were hesitant but complied with his harsh command. You didn't think any less of him because of his confession; it doesn't change the fact that he saved you from a traumatising experience, so he still deserved your proper gratitude. He wasn't willing to accept it and it's his decision whether or not he does, yes, but you were determined to repay him.  
It was unusual for you to frequent a bar, even more so if the bar was the one where you were physically assaulted at. Your behaviour was very suspicious and your friends were quick to catch on, confronting you the night you're about to leave your shared apartment once more. You always left at the same night, at the same time with the same intentions in mind - you just need to see him again. 
"I'll be leaving now," you announce, slipping into your heels as your reflection stares back at you with satisfaction. 
"Babes, you've told us what happened to you that night, right?" your roommate confirms as she stood beside the door, causing you to raise a brow as you gave a reassuring nod. "Everything?" she pressed as you gave another nod, “Then…why do I feel like you're leaving one very crucial detail out?" her eyes are piercing you judiciously as you struggle to maintain a calm demeanour.
"Jia, I've told you everything," you promise a white lie. 
"Oh really?" the stare she sends you is chilling, "Because, it doesn't really make much sense if the first time a girl goes out in forever, gets harassed and suddenly makes it routine to visit said bar on the same night, at the same time, weekly!" avoiding her eyes, you attempt to cover your endeavours, "Well?...Did this guy threaten you or something? (Y/N), you know that I'm here for you." the hard front she puts forth slowly wore down with concern until only watery agony was present in her eyes.
"I-It's not like that Jia.”
"Then please tell me, Sweetie. You know how I hate being kept in the dark about these things." clearly, the stress was getting to her and you felt extremely guilty for causing such strain on her everyday deliberations; she already had many other things to reflect on, she didn't need you forcing more stress atop that. You remember how you told her your altered story of the night - one where there was now a mysterious, cold-hearted stranger saving you - and she was close to tears, apologising for not being a good enough friend, proven in her failed act of saving you. "I''m not here to judge you...I'm just concerned. Please tell me so that I'm self-assured that you'll be fine…and that I don't need to stalk you just to make sure you're safe." it was a joke that you embraced with a half-hearted laugh, encouraging you to tip the scale in favour of her apprehension. 
"Alright...I'll tell you," and that, you did. As promised, she didn't judge you but put forward her own advice, the lines of stress no longer creasing the space between her expressive brows. 
"Is he so handsome that you have to go so badly?" she jests, her enquiry still half-serious. 
"Very!" you giggle. Staring up at the clock on the wall, you gasp, already half an hour late.
"Sorry for keeping you but I'm thankful that you've finally told me." 
With a hug and a quick farewell for the night, you were off, taking care not to fall in your adequate stiletto heels. 
It was the same scenario. This had become so routine that you were running through the upcoming events of the first few minutes into the club in your head. Everything flowed like clock work, which would be - to a normal person only wanting the norm - perfectly fine but you didn’t crave the norm, you were craving, yearning, and pleading to a non-existent god that he be there tonight. And yet, what should you do if he did show? In his mysterious, slender frame, enveloped in it’s cloud of mysterious musk that you were only barely able to savour briefly in your even more brief encounter. That night seemed to occur eons ago and it was eating you up inside. 
please remember that this is, unfortunately, not going to be continued as it is a part of my ‘Fragments’ Series, where I just post works that I have discontinued, maybe still in its drafting/notes-infused stage. I know it might seem like a pointless series but I’m proud of all my works and love to share more than I should.
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themattress · 5 years ago
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Evangelion: the manga > the anime
Reason 13: The Ending
This is it. The big one. The reason above all else why I think the manga is a better-told version of the NGE story than the anime in spite of all the anime’s many strengths. 
Only the manga has a fully satisfying ending.
The anime TV show ending is a preposterous puzzle, filled with increasingly low-budget animation and long-winded philosophical musings as Anno finally makes good on what he had been building to: using the show and characters for his own personal therapy session, which we are a captive audience to. The main details is that Instrumentality has happened...somehow, and that Shinji is in control over whether or not it will go through to completion...somehow. In his depressed state of mind, Shinji is tempted to just let the process run its course so that all life will merge into a single immortal being who will never feel emotional pain again. But with realizations such as there is no real sense of self without the presence of others, truth and reality is what an individual make of it, and that he’s projected his own fears, anxieties and self-loathing onto others in order to shape his negative self-image and that this can fixed, Shinji realizes there is value in living as himself and destroys Instrumentality.
I love the message in this ending and I especially love the conclusion - yeah, everyone clapping and telling Shinji “Congratulations!” is cheesy, but seeing them all smiling and then Shinji himself smiling as a beautiful instrumental version of “Cruel Angel’s Thesis” plays in the background is a great, uplifting note to end what has been such a dark, depressing story on. BUT the lack of details, plot development, or conclusive character development for anyone who isn’t Shinji in favor of all this sermonizing is really annoying. From what can be surmised, a lot of things in the outside world seem to have played similarly to EoE, but it is strongly implied that it’s Gendo’s version of Instrumentality that succeeded here: Gendo, with Adam inside him, merges with Rei who returns to Lilith, creating the Adam/Lilith hybrid being but with Gendo’s mind in control of it. However, his plan to merge with Unit 01 and reunite with Yui goes awry thanks to the mentality of its pilot, Shinji (no thanks to Gendo himself, so it’s pretty karmic), who inadvertently causes the interfusion of souls to happen. The two-part series finale transpires within the minds of all who are caught up in this, particularly Shinji. But by then, viewers were fed up with this kind of mind-screw, so this ending was panned.
Then we have EoE, where we finally get actual details and plot development in the outside world. The big difference is that Rei abruptly turns on Gendo, taking Adam for herself and entering Lilith without him. The Adam/Lilith hybrid being merges with Unit 01 and puts Instrumentality in Shinji’s hands, and this time Shinji consciously and deliberately enacts the interfusion of souls, saying “everyone can just die” (boy, doesn’t that make him likable, huh?)
This is part of EoE’s biggest problem: it is made when Anno is no longer in a state of therapeutic pondering, but a state of anger and hatred. This anger and hatred permeates throughout the entire movie, informing every choice made in it. Shinji jerks off over Asuka’s comatose body. Misato is cold and abusive toward Shinji, and then dies for nothing. Shinji doesn’t honor her final wishes and just mopes. Asuka receives an uplifting emotional closure that brings her badassness back, only to be defeated in battle and utterly brutalized. Ritsuko fails because one of her mother’s AI computers betrays her in favor of Gendo, who shoots her dead. Gendo is killed in a mind-screwy way that plays to his worst fears and offers no redemption whatsoever. Shinji strangles Asuka within his own mind, then proceeds to willfully destroy humanity. And during the equivalent to the TV show’s therapeutic sequence where Shinji changes his mind about Instrumentality, the Adam/Lilith hybrid being has its throat sliced open right after actual written death threats to Anno from fans disgruntled over the TV show’s ending flashes on screen. And through all of this, Shinji just keeps SCREAMING!!!
This cinematic ending is wonderfully directed, beautifully animated, and contains a lot of great ideas, but it is just so unpleasant to watch. Even when coming to the same uplifting message, it falls flat when the last scene is Shinji washed up on the shore of a barren hellscape along with “Asuka”, who he truly does strangle this time, only to stop when she touches his face which leads to him breaking down into heavy sobbing. Asuka quietly says “How disgusting”, and suddenly “The End” comes on screen. That’s it, that’s how it ends: not with Shinji being congratulated and smiling, but Shinji crying while being insulted yet again. What. The. Fuck!?  If the TV show’s ending was the equivalent of Anno guiding the viewer through a slow, tranquil therapy session in order to lead them to the story’s moral, this ending is the equivalent of Anno mercilessly beating the shit out of the viewer until they grasp the story’s moral. And the problem with that is that most viewers aren’t going to remember the moral, they’re just going to remember the beating! Anno failed to stick the landing twice, and unfortunately I’m hedging my bets that he’s going to strike out with his third attempt next year in the ending to the Rebuild film series, especially with how that series has gone thusfar.
With the manga’s ending, Sadamoto combines the tranquil therapeutic sensibilities and clearly uplifting message of the TV ending with the plot and detail of EoE. It’s essentially EoE as it should have been, since it’s being made by someone who isn’t in such a negative state of mind as Anno was. Each alteration made here is an improvement, and these include:
- Shinji doesn’t jerk off to Asuka’s comatose body, and instead tries to shake her awake while yelling about how much she means to him. She wakes up in a fit of indiscriminate madness and (hilariously enough) strangles Shinji before being restrained by the infirmary staff.
- That scene with Gendo and Shinji is added, doing wonders for both characters.
- Misato, while maintaining a hardened edge, isn’t abusive to Shinji. After slapping him when it’s necessary, she pulls him into a hug, saying that she isn’t like Gendo - she wants him to pilot Eva, but not just for others: for himself, too, and that she won’t allow him to lose hope.
- Misato is given a more triumphant send-off, blowing herself and several enemy troops up with a grenade rather than just being shot down. We also get a chapter cover where she is reunited with Kaji in the afterlife. I still hate that she died, but this is better than EoE’s version.
- Rather than moping and wasting Misato’s last request when he sees Unit 01 stuck, Shinji rediscovers his backbone and wills it free by appealing to Yui’s soul within it. (“MOVE!”) Because of this, Shinji is able to rescue Asuka before she can be brutalized by the MP-Evas. 
- After Rei turns on Gendo, it is revealed that Ritsuko isn’t quite dead after Gendo had shot her after all, and she is able to fatally shoot him through the neck before finally expiring. 
- Shinji’s mind-fucking when the Adam/Lilith hybrid being merges with Unit 01 is portrayed completely different, centering around a flashback between him and Yui. The decision he comes to deliberately initiate the interfusion of souls has a completely different motivation: he wants to save everyone rather than destroy them, Lilith messing with his mind has skewed his noble intentions and made him believe that Instrumentality is the only way to stop everyone from suffering ever again. This, along with what ends up happening later, maintains sympathy for Shinji, as he is trying to do the right thing and is being misled on how to do it.
- Asuka gets “tanged” during Instrumentality, with the Rei spirit who does so to her appearing to her as Kaji, whom Asuka is happy to realize did love her even if in a fatherly way and not in the romantic/sexual sense, which provides some closure to that relationship. Given that Asuka spoke of Kaji after her mind rape in both the anime and manga, this is appreciated.
- Gendo’s death isn’t a cruel WTF moment, but his only measure of atonement as Yui’s spirit guides him to remember that he did love Shinji from the start and denied that to himself because he was afraid of loving his child and being loved by his child given the issues he developed with his own father. Gendo’s dying wish is for Shinji to survive...and to live.
- The climax within the merged Adam/Lilith hybrid and Unit 01 is between Shinji and Rei (no needless Kaworu cameo here). Instead of Rei, then Kaworu, and finally Yui convincing Shinji to reverse course, Shinji decides it all by himself: his head is now clear of Lilith’s meddling and he realizes that this horrific result isn’t what he wanted after all...yes, everyone will no longer suffer, but only because there no longer is an “everyone” to suffer. Even if it comes with pain, people can only be people when they are allowed to be their own individuals and co-exist with each other. Rei had re-joined Lilith hoping for this exact outcome, and together she and Shinji re-awakens Yui’s soul and they destroy the Adam/Lilith hybrid being together, reversing Instrumentality and returning all souls to where they belong in a truly spectacular sequence. Thus, as “Cruel Angel’s Thesis” says, does a young boy become a legend.
- Rei has an emotional death scene where, without Adam/Liltih to sustain her, her soul breaks apart and is fragmented across the new Earth, becoming snow. Her final words to Shinji are thanking him for helping her develop her own individual self, and her final thoughts are that she, merged with the new world, will be waiting for Shinji to be reborn there. It’s beautiful.
- Before Shinji fully becomes LCL in preparation for his rebirth, he actually sees the souls of Yui and Gendo, projected from Unit 01 which remains in space. This brings closure to the main theme of the story: the relationship between Shinji and his parents, combining a visual from the TV ending (Shinji smiling as he is congratulated by his parents) and Yui’s inspiring words from EoE (”As long as the sun and the moon and the Earth exists, it will be all right.”) 
- The perfect epilogue to the story, where we actually get to see the new world and humanity reborn into it rather than just Yui’s claims that it could happen. It is snowing, which means a proper weather cycle is back rather than endless summer. The MP-Evas are frozen like statues, and are considered mysterious artifacts by humans, who no longer remember anything involving Evas and the Angels. The new, well-adjusted Shinji meets the new, well-adjusted Asuka for the first time (oh, and Kensuke too). And the sequence of Shinji walking down the street mirrors the beginning of the manga, except this time his inner monologue is different: uplifting and optimistic rather than depressed and cynical. As we see that he still bears the crucifix that Misato gave him before she died, we hear that he is keeping his promise to her: “I will do my best. I will find my own path. It may be rough and winding, with driving wind and rain, and some days may be freezing cold. But...I know the sun will light the way. My future...holds infinite possibilities”.  Damn it! It brings tears to my eyes every time!
Sadamoto is the only one to end the story of NGE in a truly ideal way. And this factor alone is justification for my unshakable belief that the manga is the definitive version of that story.
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tumblunni · 6 years ago
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Wow i had such a weird dream?? The story itself wasnt too unusual, just an emotional moment of an anime that doesnt exist, but the way the dream delivered it was really confusing!
The plot of this apparant anime was that there was some sort of ragtag group of monster people wandering the earth looking for a place they could belong without being hated. And i got the feeling here that they'd just found a place where things were going good, but the show's recurring villains appeared and revealed their secret to the town and now they had to flee again as everyone they thought was a friend took up pitchforks against them.
And the main focus character was really interesting? I dont think he was actually the protagonist but he got the focal role in this episode. Cos the monsters had to disguise themselves as humans to live in this town, and this was the youngest monster who didnt know how to do that yet. He had a really emotional struggle of pushing himself so hard to try and master this skill, because he was actually unique amoung the group for being a monster that was actually once human. So it was a combination of frustration at being a burden to his new friends, with desperation to finally see his own face in the mirror again.
And I feel like maybe before he became a monster he was bigoted against them and scared of them? Within the dream i recalled watching that other episode some other day, and apparantly it was super emotional. It started off just seeming like another 'we find the town of the day along our journey and meet some friends and/or solve a conflict' type thing. And this kid was mostly antagonistic through the episode, a dumb naive kid who believed everything negative about monsters and now struggled with the situation of being the only one who knew the truth that these guys are monsters but also now theyre doubting whether they should reveal it because these people seem so..normal?? And scared?? Starts to doubt whether all the other monsters executed by the corrupt church in their town were fully sentient too, and every time the 'nice' priest was teaching them how to spot liars he was really teaching them how to kill innocent monster people who were just as scared as the humans are of them. But the roots of gaslighting and abuse from this priest ran deep, so the kid struggled with the choice and ultimately made the wrong decision. Also i think maybe theres a reveal that the priest was actually their biological dad too, just for even more levels of why theyd make that wrong decision. And more reasons why its horrifying that the priest dad just treats his kid like shit once they outlived their usefulness. Im thinking something like the kid tries to make up for their mistake and save the protagonists but they get captured by their dad and like.. Ok holy fuck this dude is outright willing to murder his son and he's eminantly aware that these monster people are 100% sentiebt because he's using the threat of killing his son as a way to get them to lay down their weapons and agree to be recaptured. And then i think there was something super messed up when it was revealed all the monster attacks that happened to the town to get them so scared and paranoid were actually orchestrated by the priest as a form of control over his citizens. He had some sort of Ominous Doom Science to both turn people into monsters and control them to do his bidding. And like the predictable asshole he is, even after the protagonists gave up in order to save the kid he still killed him anyway. And after snapping his neck he threw him down into the prison cell with the protagonists and was like 'lets torment them by making them fight the kid they wanted to save'. Because it turned out he'd been doping the kid with a special dose of the monster formula ever since birth, and he was his 'secret weapon' all along without knowing it. Ultra super mega concentrated doom form of the artifical monsters he uses in his army, activated upon the moment of the kid's death. But then it turns out the ultimate experiment was too much for him to control and the kid was able to keep their mind in their new form, and turn against him to save their new friends. But when they realized what had happened to them, they broke down in fear. And everything was super depressing cos the protagonists knew this poor kid was now doomed to share their fate as monsters, and theyd have to take them away fron everythung theyd ever known in order to keep them safe. But also heartwarming at the same time because the kid had never known a truly loving family before, and as they passed out in the arms of main protagonist mom friend werewolf they felt like maybe this is what having a real family is like...
So anyway that led to a bit of an angsty team dynamic with this new recruit? The kid was obviously all new to monsterness and terrified of everything. But also even now they were struggling with that 'what if my abusive dad is right' instinct drilled into them from all those years. They still struggled with really believing that monsters arent evil, and like 'no i must have only disobeyed him because i was infected and i didnt know it, monsters are evil and i became one because i'm evil too'. Unwilling to believe that their dad did that to them and trying to find excuses where it would be their own fault. Maybe the kid was even tricked by another villain at some point who lied about having a cure? Like even whenthey became more able to trust their new monster friends they were still like 'theyd be happier if they became normal right?' Lots of angst and messing up and this poor kid feeling not only weak and useless to the team but also outright toxic to them.
So all of this led to this situation where disguising yourself as a human is a skill all the other team members already mastered and this kid is struggling real hard to accomplish it in order to save the day. Ans its extra depressing cos they havent seen their original human face in months, and theyre trying to cling onto the memories but scared they migjt forget what it was like to be human. And then i cant really recall all the details but i feel like the writing and cinematography were just super amazing emotional on this scene of the kid struggling to Do The Thing in time to save their friends, and like.. Atone for all their mistakes.
Also i think like the kid had this big super kaiju ultimate chimera form which was what their dad designed them to be, but also most of the time they were poofed into a tiny mascot sized version of that. And theycd never actually managed to control their powers enough to turn into their battle form willingly until now. Just this super depressing and also uplifting scene of this fuckin tiny monster kid being pinned to the ground underneath the villain's heel, trying desperately to turn human again to save their friends. And i think it was an awesome moment where they did manage to regain their old face for just a few seconds, but instead of actually learning to master the human transformation they learned to master their battle form instead. Like, accepting that that old face isnt who they are anymore, and it wont help like they thought it would. What they really need now is their REAL face! Some sort of dramatic badass speech about this that cuts the villain's philosophy right in half, and then a badass scene of tiny kid finally being able to control (and not be scared of!) their beast form, and fight the whole damn army singlehandedly to save their friends!
Also i think there was an extra emotional moment somewhere along the way where one of yhe villain generals was like 'no, stop, i want to see if they can do this', and actually started motivating the kid. Like i think they were a brainwashed soldier of the old priest bastatd who was sent to kill these monsters supposedly to avenge the priest's dead kid but they were actually starting to have doubts when this terrifying monster that 'killed them' seemed to act so much like a child. So this was the big moment of them finall believing the kid, and getting to see proof it really was them and the priest really was a manipulative evil bastard all along. So i think they switched sides and joined super powered up kiddo in fighting their fellow knights, giving them the keys to go free their friends. And possibly this knight person also joined the team after this and was the first proper human ally theyd ever had? And probably had loads of emotional plots of atoning
ANYWAY that was the cool really engaging story of my dream that i wish i could watch a real anime about!
But the weird part was that this was all delivered really fragmented cos of how little sleep ive had lately. I was seeing it in the form of (for some reason) laying down on the stairs at my abusive father's old house, listening to it playing on the tiny tv he had in his room. And you may have noticed i kept mixing up the kid's pronouns, thats because everyone in the dream was represented visually by a character from some other franchise and it was REALLY confusing! The kid was like an amalgamation of all the dudes from Wolf's Rain which i guess is where the concept of wandering monsters in human illusion came from. (Tho they werent all reverse werewolves like in that show) It was weird cos i knew this character was meant to be a child but they looked like five ripped teenagers smooshed together? Cos i havent seen that show in ages and couldnt even remember the protagonist's name. (Was someone called Hide or is that a guy from tokyo ghoul? I think they had the outfit of the tokyo ghoul guy.) And then predictably the evil priest dad was cornello from full metal alchemist mixed with my old doctor who had the same name. But less predictably the redeemed villain holy paladin knight guy was replica riku from kingdom hearts?? Ans specifically his medal from the app game, like he came with a floating medal attatched to his waist like a mermaid who was also a coffee table.
Also it just ended with a floating box of hair dye that turned to face the camera and it was actually coffee in a hair dye package. Like an exact replica of the blonding bleach i usually use, right down to every detail, but all the text was replaced with coffee info. I..i dont know what that has to do with anything else that just happened...
Oh also i think maybe one of the other teammates was a big cuddly 50-something circus ringleader type guy? He was the friendly comic relief but actually deep downn the most tormented of all of them. He'd been imprisoned as a circus attraction for most of his entire life and dressing up like a ringleader now he was free was kinda a way of coping? But yeh i think he bonded well with the kid cos they both didnt have much experience with being free and everything seemed new and scary. This guy also didnt have much experience of monster society either cos he'd been enslaved since he was a child. Man this anime sounds so fuckin intense and dark and emotional but also full of powerful friendship!! Why cant i watch any more episodes!! give me a sequel dream!!
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athyrabunlord · 7 years ago
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Below is my rambling response to @argnatien’s lovely review of 3.3k words (?!??!?!?) for LLSHP AU ch16~
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I had hoped to finish ch17 in February but oh, it’s April now XD;;; So I’m definitely way later than you. But! I’m still very happy to receive your feedback! Yes, I did intend this chapter to be ‘quieter’ in terms of actions, but definitely still a turmoil in terms of emotions. The thing with the ending chapters of Arc2 is that, the characters were not given time to truly absorb the aftermaths. Everything happened so quickly, back to back, and suddenly their world is turned upside down. It’s not just Yoshiko – Dia and Riko are abruptly gone from their peaceful school life. Chika and You learned about what really happened to them but they never got the chance to talk to Riko about it.
I think I mentioned this already, but I’ll stress again that, if it weren’t for the carbonado necklace, Riko would have ended up like Frank and Alice Longbottom. She was subjected to not just one but several Cruciatus Curses on top of many Legilimens. It was a difficult scene for me to write as well, though I still strive to be as realistic as possible given the circumstances.
Riko had immediately Obliviated You and Chika while their… ‘injuries’ were still fresh, so to speak, while it’s already too late for Riko. Her mind was broken already, so there’s no point in Obliviating them. Besides, messing with memories is a crude method to deal with Cruciatus aftermath – it’s not done in canon HP verse. Unlike physical torture, I believe Cruciatus to be a direct attack on the mind to stimulate pain receptors, rather than actual attack on the person’s nervous system. So, if the mind forgets that it ever sent such signals, perhaps there wouldn’t be an aftereffect. Of course, all of this is just my assumption and play around with HP canon material XD;
Back to present, Chika said that being surrounded by friends and family would remind her that the pain from Cruciatus is in the past. What Riko needs now certainly is time and, as the girls have discovered, Dia to be with her too. I can’t elaborate more on this point but indeed, there is hope. Hope is what Aqours is all about.
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Dia was raised and shown in public as the heiress of the Kurosawa family. They could not just outright disown or strip her of her title for no reason, that would be even worse shame than the current suspicions she now faced. Hence the best countermeasure they have for now is to keep her from public eyes. There’s the matter of her relationship with Riko as well. Though the Sakurauchis is an old family with prominent background, their lineage is nowhere as pure as Kurosawas. Both women, different social status, and now this incident… Dia and Riko indeed face quite a lot of obstacles.
Grounded in her family home, unable to contact friends and left with only thoughts of guilt and regret, Dia’s not in a good state in many ways (as briefly shown in ch17). Dia is not privy to Riko’s condition, so her mind would just keep wandering and assuming the worst. As Dia-oshi (that’s hard to believe probably, considering what I’ve done), it’s difficult for me to imagine how much pain Dia’s been experiencing but had to keep inside her with no way to vent her stress.
My parchment paper analogy is my attempt to differentiate Magical healing from Muggle healing process. For Muggles, we have equipment like MRT scans, EGG scans etc. So, as I try to rationalize how Healers work, the parchment analogy came to mind. Ink is indeed the stressor and is unpredictable, as in what sort of stain the ink would make on the paper is dependent on how the ink is dropped upon it. Thoughts/experiences change the pattern that the ink runs on the paper. Chika and You mentioned how their minds are like ‘dried parchment, one that’s been stained before but the ink color has long lightened.’ So, just how can Riko’s ‘parchment’ be salvaged?
Yes, you’re correct, she was just having a PTSD flashback upon seeing the person who betrayed and tortured her. She had no idea it was ‘Yohane’ – she still thought it was Yoshiko. She definitely is in no state of mind to think about the why and how. ………… yeah, I deserve to be stoned by Riko-oshis.
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Hmm, yeah, can’t comment much on Yoshiko & Riko atm. But yes, Yoshiko will not go anywhere near Riko in fear of triggering another panic attack. I don’t remember what I said to you for ch15’s review LOL I agree, trust is indeed hard to regain.
Can’t comment much on the Yohane-Yoshiko connection either. Just as how Yoshiko can do certain things Yohane can’t (ie cast the Patronus), there are things Yohane can do that Yoshiko can’t either. The how and why shall be revealed in the remainder of Arc3. Yoshiko’s bad Occlumency is due to the fact she’s not ‘whole’. Yohane is definitely more accustomed to handling matters related to her soul, having practically grown up with such knowledge and those wings being a natural occurrence for her. In the alley, Yoshiko was practically losing control and attempting to force her way into Yohane’s mind, and so Yohane abruptly cut off the connection.
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Specifically, it was Yoshiko’s emotional attachment to Hanamaru’s broken wand that stopped her from going berserk. To her, the broken wand was a remnant of the ‘old’ Hanamaru, from a period of time where things were still good. As hinted in past chapters, being the one to be able to approach Yoshiko while those tendrils were rampant, Hanamaru is a key factor in calming down Yoshiko.  Emotion is another key catalyst for the black tendrils. Finding out that Yohane had tortured Riko caused such undulated anger in Yoshiko. Clues from past events will be accumulating and adding up, and of course more to come. Good speculations, that’s all I can say for now 😃
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Yup, playing around one’s soul definitely isn’t healthy for the long run, especially when you use said soul fragments as a form of weapon or defense. In a way, you could say Yohane-Yoshiko are damaged already. Neither of them is whole after all. Again, great speculations!
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Hanamaru is connected to Yoshiko in a way, ever since the Dementor incident as a child. (ch17 sheds some light onto that mystery) She hasn’t been aware of this connection, at least not consciously, but she’s always been able to locate Yoshiko at Hogwarts (between classes and whatnot). After the Chamber of Secrets event though, she becomes aware of it without understanding what it really means. Seeing the Augurey enables her to make a comparison/metaphor, and so she stated that she could hear Yoshiko’s soul crying.
Foreshadowing… welp, ch17 did reveal more things haha
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I’ve been fascinated by Augurey since I first read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which listed them alphabetically. So in the very early planning stages of this story, I thought of Yoshiko right away and wanted it to play a significant role. Ch17 does reveal more than it being a symbol. The Hogwarts registry that writes down the names of magical children is an Augurey quill, that’s why I chose to use it for a purpose in this story as well.
Just as how Professor Koizumi coaxed Ruby into letting out her emotions in Interlude2, Hanamaru managed to do so for Yoshiko. The poor girl needs it, it’s not healthy keeping everything inside after all. It’s mostly guilt, she keeps telling herself she doesn’t deserve to be comforted and she’s in no position to be crying when everyone else have suffered so much more. I’m glad that you as a reader find the moment satisfying, as I intended it to be in spite of the overall solemn and melancholic tone. Ch17 presents a different catharsis for her, another one that she needs, and for Hanamaru as well.
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<_< ah yes memories. I’ve always found Obliviate a very fascinating spell – a dangerous one too – yet it was never expanded much in the HP canon. The most poignant instances would be Gilderoy Lockhart stealing credit, Hermione to protect her parents, and Bertha Jorkins who got tortured by Voldemort and regained her memories. All of these have different impacts, positive and negative, on characters and the plot.
And so, I did a little variation amongst the members – the Memory Charm saved You and Chika’s lives; Riko extracted her memory into the Pensieve before her mind cracked; Yoshiko’s own memories being disjointed due to the whole Horcrux issue; Hanamaru’s memory repression being purely psychological.
I make them suffer a lot don’t I… (but this is nothing compared to other AUs I had for them LOL *gets shot*) But personally, I find things so much sweeter (or, bittersweet at least) if there was suffering beforehand. The saying of ‘you won’t realize how much you miss/need something until it’s gone’ kind of feel.
Again, I must say I’m beyond amazed at the 3.3k review. Like, holy moly, that’s longer than most some of my blips already! I really appreciate all these feedbacks though – it lets me see how a reader views the story, and it brings me joy to see the little nuances here and there noticed and appreciated. I’m also glad to elaborate upon/share the more intricate details that have no room in the storytelling.
Thanks again!
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gayruthven · 7 years ago
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history and inspiration for the character lord ruthven + the similarities between him in the vampyre vs. tcsov
read a short story that was published in 1816 in spanish class lmao and i decided to write this post for fun its long as fuck but honestly a interesting read if u want to know more than u need to abt lord ruthven
here is a link to where you can read the vampyre. its really good but really outdated and hard to read soooo theres a pretty detailed summary in this post. 
a quick backstory for the creation of the vampyre and the man who was used unwillingly as the inspiration for the original lord ruthven:
 in the year 1816 a famous french poet named lord byron (he was considered very edgy for his time and everyone thought he was sexy, dramatic and scandalous lmao) rented a house at lake geneva in switzerland for the summer (he fled england due to his divorce to avoid social fallout- some say he was actually driven from england due to the possibility he would be outed as bisexual, which he was). his personal physician john polidori accompanied him and his lover claire clarement made arrangements to be in switzerland at the same time and bought along her step sister, mary wollstonecraft godwin as well as mary’s lover, percy bysshe shelley. 
1816 is famously known as the year without a summer due to a huge volcanic eruption in modern day indonesia that caused a majority of the northern hemisphere to be covered in a thick layer of ash. so despite it being summer, it was very chilly and the sun was dimmed due to the fog to be red and it happened to rain a lot. because of the atmosphere surrounding that summer, lord byron spent a majority of his days reading ghost stories and decided to challenge his companions to each write a horror story of their own. 
that summer lord bryon worked on a piece published in his collection fragments of a novel. it featured a dastardly, possibly supernatural nobleman. john polidiri, who had previously written what mary wollenstein godwin described as horrendous was about a woman with a skull head lol, and after reading the fragment polidiri was inspired to write the vampyre. its claimed he kinda completely copied the fragment, i haven’t read it and can’t talk abt it cause this is supposed to be abt lord ruthven lmao. he decided to model the devilishly attractive lord ruthven after lord byron himself (which sucked for lord byron cause that really wasn’t good for his public image). the two of them had a thing- this woman macdonald once described polidiris jealous outbursts and tantrums over lord byron. it was sorta like a angry ex demonizing their past partner lol. 
before i move onto the differences and similarities between the two lord ruthvens here is a summary of the vampyre: 
the story the vampyre tells the tale of a attractive young man named aubrey. both lord ruthven and aubrey  appear as newcomers in high class parties in london around the same time. everyone, including aubrey, find themselves oddly fascinated with lord ruthven due to the intensity of his stare, his wicked handsomeness and his strange paleness. after becoming entranced with lord ruthven, aubrey is invited to accompany on his trip throughout europe. already being expected to travel in order to truly be considered to have reached adulthood, aubrey jumps at the opportunity. 
as they travel together aubrey starts to notice some REALLY WEIRD shit about lord ruthven. the guy loves to gamble and gives his money away to the people very often, but only people who use the money for their vices who don’t really need it. lord ruthven tries to seduce a young italian girl, but aubrey ruins that for him and decides it would be wise to distance himself from lord ruthven and travels to greece alone. 
once in greece aubrey falls in love with a woman. or, well, he likes the fact she doesn’t love him and that it would be absolutely ridiculous for him to ever want to marry him. basically he finds comfort in his attraction to her cause it means he DOESN’T REALLY like lord ruthven lol. she tells him stories about vampyres living the woods by athens, which aubrey thinks is absolutely ridiculous.
after failing to make it to town after tending to something important, he gets caught in the woods after nightfall and has a encounter with a vampyre who kills the woman he was in “love” with and after a close encounter with the vampyre, he is saved by the towns people appearing flares. 
aubrey is bedridden after this incident and loses his mind a bit. he curses ruthven quite a bit in a crazed daze, yet comes to his senses one day only to realize he was being nursed to health by no other than lord ruthven himself. aubrey accepts ruthvens kindness and they decide to put their past agreements behind them and travel together again. 
lord ruthven gets murdered in a run in with some bandits. upon his death bed, aubrey is forced to swear he won’t tell anyone anything negative about lord ruthven for a year and a day after his passing. 
when he returns to england, it’s around the time when aubreys younger sister is finally about to enter society. she is very excited that aubrey will accompany her. but after attending his first party upon his return, he is pulled aside by someone who whispers for him to ‘remember his oath.’ its lord ruthven and that fucks aubrey up. 
he loses his mind a bit, which delights lord ruthven, and stays locked in his room mostly. he receives news one day that his sister is getting married and hes absolutely delighted! however, when he opens the heart locket she keeps around her neck he discovered the photo of the person inside of it is none other than lord ruthven. 
aubrey tries to get them to cancel the marriage. he fails, dies, and then his sister is killed by lord ruthven on the night of their wedding and he mysteriously disappears. 
its a very gay coded story that is REALLY GOOD so heres a link abt that
FINALLY the parallels between the two lord ruthvens relevant in tcsov:
lord ruthven in tcsov is obviously inspired by the one featured in the vampyre. two easy similarities is their lack of one eye and the fact their both highly regarded noblemen. their charisma is strongly attributed to their supernatural powers.  
in each piece of media, a young man becomes fascinated with them. while it isn’t as present in tcsov, it’s obvious lord ruthven is attempting to groom noe. which i believe is even relevant in their first encounter, despite ruthven not necessarily being aware of noes importance yet. lord ruthven holds noe against his chest when he melts the ice, forcing them to be in a position one would describe as affectionate closeness. 
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similar to how aubrey is described as lord ruthvens curiosity, i believe the same applies to lord ruthven and noe. lord ruthven in tcsov’s acts of kindness towards noe remind me greatly of when lord ruthven tended to aubrey when he was bedridden. while i do believe lord ruthven in the tcsov does indeed feel some sort of affection for noe, its pretty obvious their acts of manipulation. 
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him renting out the entire restaurant he brought noe to forces them to be isolated. he claims it was his favorite and says the reason why he rented out the establishment was because he wanted to have a leisurely talk with noe. this is supposed to make noe feel like hes receiving special treatment, similar to the way lord ruthven in the vampyre lures aubrey into a similar situation when he invites him to travel alone with him.  
the way he talks to other people in the series only furthers this point. while speaking to veronika or vanitas, he is incredibly apathetic and when he does smile its devoid of emotion. lord ruthven in the vampyre is described with these characteristics, as a cold, withdrawn man with a dead stare. this is contradicted only by his change of attitude when tending to aubrey. both noe and aubrey are lured into a false sense of safety.
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another striking similarity is the fact they both put someone under an oath. while aubrey was manipulated emotionally by lord ruthven in the vampyre to swear he wouldn’t reveal anything that would harm lord ruthvens reputation, we’re all aware of that fun little scene from chapter 19 lol.
this oath ultimately drives aubrey insane that due to it hes unable to save his sister or anyone else who would ultimately become a victim of lord ruthven. while we havent witnessed what lord ruthven in tcsov forces noe to do yet, its easy to infer it will have similar results to noes mental health. perhaps as a result he’ll be forced to witness the death of someone he cares deeply about and blames himself for not being able to save them much like aubrey and his sister?? 
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josiahdavidchapman · 7 years ago
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Serving sexists
“Hello, welcome to Bob’s. My name is Josiah. I’ll be your server tonight. How’s the night treating you?”
“Fairly well. Look man, I’m a wealthy spoiled kid. But these prices on your wine list aren’t just rape, their molestation. I’m not gonna order wine by the bottle...it’s not your fault.”
“Not a problem sir, what else can I get you?”
“Jack and diet please.”
“Yes sir. Coming right up.”
I walk away from the hosts seat at head of the table towards the computer and order the man his drink. Why would he make such a comment? He’s rich. What does he care? Restaurants make most of their money off of liquor and wine mark ups. He’s a regular. You’d think he know. But I play it off. My job is simple: take care of the guest, regardless of how irrational he or she may be. This guy was the epitome of rich: boot cute faded jeans that reek of the “I buy pricy clothes but don’t give two shits about it” vibe; fancy pointed shoes that didn’t begin to redeem his lack of cohesive dress ware; a colorful button down with wide stripes and off putting shades of orange and brown; spiked thin hair undoubtedly groomed with “touch of gray,” inspired by the “save your hair” bosley mantra; a dark orange skin tone indicative of long hours in tanning beds and the frequent lavish tropical vacation; and to top it off, his dolled-up white teeth hide an unenthusiastic, banal smile that wants to be sincere but couldn’t possibly manage relatability, even given the best of days and a genuine effort. His name was James. From the moment I shook his hand, I despised the man. Everything about my first impression of him was contently stuck in the rich, snobby, egotistical realm. Regardless, I did my job, and he seemed reasonably happy, despite his complaints.
The more I wait on wealthy high profile people, the more disenchanted I become. What do they have to offer that’s acutely better than my arsenal of personal strengths, loves, and giftings? How did they grow into powerful individuals? And why should I give a damn about the particularities of one persons privileged, cushioned life? Throughout my life, I’ve had to work for everything. Food, drink, health, education, transportation, and a fragment of social relevancy, all on my own dime. Then again, maybe I’m wrong to judge him. Perhaps he’s entirely self-made and deserves every dollar the ecosystem of western capitalism has afforded him. However, if one man’s wealth speaks louder and more obnoxiously than every other potentially relatable subjective experience, I can’t help but think he’s on on the losing side of the spectrum. Money is great. But money can’t buy a blissful soul. Nor can it purchase happiness or love, as countless poets and musicians have articulated throughout past centuries. Being rich is great, when money is the thing you need to answer questions and solve problems. But when capital isn’t sufficient, a man’s true colors begin to show. And no amount of money could make this interaction any more pleasant.
“Hey buddy, I’ll take the tab. And add 18% please.”
“18%?” I thought. What a low-grade level of compensation for a far above average waiter that makes his bread and butter off of scum like this. I didn’t make enough that night. I don’t know if he was aware of how skimpy the tip actually was. Maybe he just wasn’t paying attention to the numbers. It’s beyond me. All I know is that I got paid less than normal to wait on an extremely high maintenance client full of complaints and extensive lip service. But complements don’t pay the bills. Maybe he meant well. More than likely he didn’t think far enough to give two shits about the severs that went out of their way to cater to him and his entitled group of friends and family. It was his daughters 15th birthday. She came across as 18+ with a lovely frame and a charming smile. I caught several older men giving her a look as she walked into the private dining room. I couldn’t believe it at first. Isn’t it despicable for a middle-aged man to gawk at a girl far below the legal age? Not my place. I’m just a sever. Put the blinders on—professional aura, expertise in every step of service from picking up plates to articulating features, and a “can-do” smile that diffuses tension and makes me appear completely willing to accommodate any request. To my core, I truly am available to fulfill any request. If a guest needs me to venture across the street for a pack of smokes or a small bottle of Advil, I’ll do it without question. I’m that kind of server. But this gentleman (I say that to formalize our interaction, not to commend his character) was impossible to please and made it a point to be difficult. I let it be. Just another night in the business of pleasing clients and tailoring an exquisite dining experience. Then again, the guest has to want that. I can only do so much when the man sitting in the chairs I’ve dusted and positioned precisely around the table wants to complain and bicker about the most tangential details. What can I do? Smile, accommodate each request promptly, and fulfill the role high-profile clients expect of me. Most are complete strangers. But my job doesn’t change due to that. I’m in it for the money and the experience. And on that night, both end goals were severely lacking.
As I walk around the table, surveying empty glasses and dirty plates, clearing away superfluous items, I can’t help but overhear the conversation. The same man I’ve overanalyzed from the first minute I saw him takes lead of the dialogue. What followed was a disturbing back and forth about gender, sexual equality, and current political affairs.
“Most of this shit, all the #metoo stuff...some of these girls, with the way they dress, they’re asking for it. You know what I call a girl dressed all slutty? A pound sign. That’s what I call them. They’re begging to be pounded. That’s what it comes down to.”
The man’s wife looks at him passively, attempting to dismiss the comment, but too apprehensive to call his bluff outright. Lots of cheap laughter and eye-contact evasion follows. The comment was off-putting, at best. Absurdly sexist and hateful, at worst. Whatever his intentions were, they were lost in his crudely expressed viewpoint of the role of women in society and his generic aura of pretension and esotericism. I certainly couldn’t relate to him. I needed only to oblige him. He couldn’t give a damn where I’m from, what I’ve been through, who I claim to be. Why would he? I’m just a glorified butler, here to accommodate his every request.
On nights like this, the waiting game gets old real fast. Feeding the mouths of entitled individuals, selling steaks and wine to the those who could care less about a price point, embracing the role of server and personal assistant in a world dominated by the rich and powerful—it’s all mad, every part. But until the world opens up to me, I’ll do my part, pouring wine, serving cocktails, picking plates up, setting others down, cleaning the table, smiling when a guest asks for my opinion, balancing on the tight rope of the perception of others and the obligation to meet and exceed expectations. It’s a mad science, this waiting game.
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fairymoved · 7 years ago
Text
Okay, so I won’t be posting these in order, but here’s a small part of chapter one of “The Witch Report”, introducing one of my characters, Anna Joan Lewis.
Contains mentions of religion and sex.
word estimate: 1,872
“A touch hasty, but alright.” Anna pulled up her jeans, grabbed her wedges from beneath the bed and made her way out of them room. Miranda didn’t stand up from her bed to escort Anna out, let alone making sure the door ensuring the safety of her apartment was locked. This neighborhood seems dangerous, Anna thought as she walked down a metal staircase. She caught the attention of an older man taking his dog out to relieve itself who seemed surprised to see such a formally dressed woman in this part of town. Or maybe it was-Anna quickly looked behind her.
Good, it was just her outfit this time. Not that she blamed the man for staring, the only bra on her person was being gripped by the straps in her left hand alongside her shoes, leaving her small but perky breasts loose under her thin top and feet bare to the dirt of the outside.
The dog doesn’t care, continuing to idly shit under a bush with tongue hanging out of its mouth as Anna slipped into her car and drove off, feeling the man’s eyes on her as she turned out of the driveway and on to the street. A part of her was insisting she turn back and at least get the man’s name, but another part remembered his oily skin reacting to the harsh morning sunlight like vinegar in a frying pan and eyes that would always look tired no matter how many naps he took to pad a day of unemployment. She’d gladly pass.
Of course, it’s only now that she chose to have standards. She could have used standards when she fucked that guy with far too many chins possible for there to be a neck under it inside a fast food restroom and when she gave that lady at the crossing walk cunnilingus behind a tree so good that the children who passed by afterschool thought she had forgotten her adult diaper that day.
But that was years ago, back when Anna was still adjusting to the fragility of this small, fleshy, sweaty, hairy thing she and many others morphed themselves into. Anna reached the first red light leading out of the apartment complex, catching herself between a growing line of other cars in the process, and caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror.
When assuming her human form, she had to be highly selective over what bits and pieces she wanted and could do without. She’d think after years of observing humanity that she’d find a template she found worthy of her visage, and yet she had gone through multiple iterations in the past fifty years. This one (number eighty seven) was one she had stuck with for a little over a month and was getting more used to considering her true human persona.
This was the face of Anna Joan Lewis, a woman of lightly tanned skin and green eyes and closely cut hair that fell somewhere on the amber side of the red spectrum in good lighting.
Anna is small and thin, a type of figure that highly contrasts with the looming, gangly body that is her true form. Her true form was a lot of things, one of which being something that shouldn’t be revealed on a Monday morning in high humidity and bad traffic. Anna may be reckless, though her limits started to pile up at the mere mention of shredding open her car and shredding the fragile psyches of multiple humans with as much ease.
No, she’d seen it happen before. Couldn’t risk it just for the sake of feigning off her boredom.
Her car inched forward just enough to see a mere fragment of the road up ahead.
She gritted her teeth.
Even as a human, she can still feel the heat. And it’s not just the warmth of today’s climate touching her skin and baking the inside of her car-the sun’s rays could only hope to compare-but the constant roaring of fire starting from her back, coaxing her spine, and filling her lungs and chest. It was a kind of heat that didn’t hurt, more rested in the confides of her form as if politely asking her suddenly acquired rib cage and muscle tissue to move aside.
Anna straightened herself in such a way that her back was fully submerged into her seat, hoping to ignore her body’s instincts just long enough to keep driving forward. She was going to miss her wings, all six of them, though she supposed being able to see how nice her freshly manicured feet looked as they rested uneasily on the gas pedal. Actually, being able to see in general was a luxury she never thought she’d appreciate this much.
“Where were you?”
“Getting coffee,” Anna replied, placing down two carboard containers still hot with fresh lattes. “We all need fuel for the day, right?”
“I already had my coffee,” Samuel said, picking up one of the styrofoam cups from the table. “But if it’s on your dime…”
“They’re already selling drinks for the fall. Talk about eager.” Samuel nodded in between sips. “I’m always in the mood for pumpkin spice. You gonna have one or are you sticking to your almond milk?”
“You know I don’t do coffee,” Anna said. “Besides, I felt like treating the staff before they bite my head off for being late again.”
“Can’t you just grow it back if they did?”
“It’s a trick I haven’t tried yet.”
“And if you haven’t noticed…” Sam did a quick gesture around the room that Anna had only now processed as being empty, the acoustics of the three-story building enunciating his voice. “Everyone is a little busy at the moment. Well, accept for the receptionist. Hey, Delia! Want a drink?”
Anna took this as her cue to head to her office, escaping behind the door to slip her bra on and straighten out her hair on her desk mirror. Through the thin walls she can still overhear Sam talking with Delia over the coffee, their conversation soon being reduced to everyday chatter about their pets and plans for the rest of the day. Sam is cordial as ever, letting the elderly receptionist go on and on about her newest puppy rescued from the shelter.
Samuel Reiner had been working at Serendipity Counseling for about one and a half months now, his summer job of choice despite his abysmal testing scores in college level psychology. He and Anna hit it off immediately, having met each other on roughly his third day of work when they locked eyes in between the water fountain and display of self-help pamphlets.
Sam not so discretely ogled the friction between her thighs and skirt and Anna took a long look at the lean physique, dark hair, and big, dark eyes that made him radiant with a certain boyish charm she hadn’t had a taste of for a solid two weeks. They had only exchanged a few words until disappearing into the nearest storage closest and were friends ever since.
Sam had taken the news about Anna being an angel with a certain nonchalant acceptance. Granted, it was her own fault to leave the door to her office ajar while she killed a fly via pressing it into the wood of her desk with a thumb hot with burning embers, her halo partially visible in that way that looked like a blazing half circle against the late sunlight pouring through the window. No one at Serendipity, including both patients and employees, seemed to care an awful lot about Anna’s angelhood.
One of her clients, a recently divorced harpy woman, seemed to take solace in having an inhuman therapist. Another client, a human man fresh from rehab, was advised to get closer to God to truly complete his recovery and found Anna’s origins in heaven to be just the middle ground he was looking for.
“Better than just reading the damn thing, am I right?” He had said once, referring to a leather-bound bible his wife had thrown into his satchel before his appointment. It didn’t seem like much of humanity ever truly cared about Anna’s actual species, just a touch surprised that behind her clever disguise was a being far beyond their comprehension.
Oddities would always insist that the two of them were on common ground, many of them insisting Anna reveal her true self to them in privacy. Humans were quick to remind her about how long they’ve been Christians and/or Catholics, as if anticipating Anna to strike down on them for wasting her time.
The only reason Anna ever withheld information about being an angel was less to do with the threat of unveiling forbidden truths and more over the audacity of mortals to always redirect the conversations to Him. And talking about Him almost always became about them and their relationship with Him.
Talking about Him so casually went directly into the forbidden truths folder and Anna would often have to bite her tongue to keep His private life private. Anna was only ever allowed to say a handful of slogans that normally kept things in the green:
“Yes, He does love you.” “Yes, He does forgive you.” “Yes, He does hear all of your prayers.” “Yes, He doesn’t wear shoes.” “I don’t know why He did that, actually. Ask Him for me, okay?”
But of course, that always sparked an entirely different series of questions. Only then do they ask specially about her and what she does, or used to do. The thing was that going into detail about which angel did what required a lot of lengthy explanations of hierarchy’s and the nine choirs the presided in heaven.
And once the fact was in someone’s head that Anna was a significant part of that hierarchy and could provide a much more through Wikipedia page on the topic than anyone else they knew, they’d keep prying for more. Nothing against them, humans were always eager to know all they could about the world.
Knowledge was power on earth and those who had some sort of entail on the secrets of the universe got to live in confidence that they knew something someone else didn’t, eagerly awaiting the day that their once useless trivia would perhaps save a doomed planet.
These hero complexes weren’t too uncommon, while others seemed to assume victim roles instead. Many people became a touch eager at the presumption of having an angel speaking to them, immediately falling on the conclusion that He had sent an angel specifically for their protection for some incoming threat, or perhaps from themselves.
Others took it as a sign of danger, growing concerned at knowing a higher being was walking among the common folk in secret. Some people would snakingly ask if they were dead this whole time.
To this Anna was always taken aback before calmly explaining that the angels were here because they had to be here. Because heaven was broken and God has been stressed out lately and…
Anna recalled from the comfort of her empty office exactly why she had chosen to work here. Once the sessions started, no one expected her to do the talking.
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jdcfoodstyle · 6 years ago
Text
Austin, TX
“Hello, welcome to Bob’s. My name is Josiah. I’ll be your server tonight. How’s the night treating you?”
“Fairly well. Look man, I’m a wealthy spoiled kid. But these prices on your wine list aren’t just rape, their molestation. I’m not gonna order wine by the bottle…it’s not your fault.”
“Not a problem sir, what else can I get you?”
“Jack and diet please.”
“Yes sir. Coming right up.”
I walk away from the hosts seat at head of the table towards the computer and order the man his drink. Why would he make such a comment? He’s rich. What does he care? Restaurants make most of their money off of liquor and wine mark ups. He’s a regular. You’d think he know. But I play it off. My job is simple: take care of the guest, regardless of how irrational he or she may be. This guy was the epitome of rich: bootcut faded jeans that reek of the “I buy pricy clothes but don’t give two shits about it” vibe; fancy pointed shoes that didn’t begin to redeem his lack of cohesive dress ware; a colorful button down with wide stripes and off putting shades of orange and brown; spiked thin hair undoubtedly groomed with “touch of gray,” inspired by the “save your hair” bosley mantra; a dark orange skin tone indicative of long hours in tanning beds and the frequent lavish tropical vacation; and to top it off, his dolled-up white teeth hide an unenthusiastic, banal smile that wants to be sincere but couldn’t possibly manage relatability, even given the best of days and a genuine effort. His name was James. From the moment I shook his hand, I despised the man. Everything about my first impression of him was contently stuck in the rich, snobby, egotistical realm. Regardless, I did my job, and he seemed reasonably happy, despite his complaints.
The more I wait on wealthy high profile people, the more disenchanted I become. What do they have to offer that’s acutely better than my arsenal of personal strengths, loves, and giftings? How did they grow into powerful individuals? And why should I give a damn about the particularities of one person's privileged, cushioned life? Throughout my life, I’ve had to work for everything. Food, drink, health, education, transportation, and a fragment of social relevance, all on my own dime. Then again, maybe I’m wrong to judge him. Perhaps he’s entirely self-made and deserves every dollar the ecosystem of western capitalism has afforded him. However, if one man’s wealth speaks louder and more obnoxiously than every other potentially relatable subjective experience, I can’t help but think he’s on on the losing side of the spectrum. Money is great. But money can’t buy a blissful soul. Nor can it purchase happiness or love, as countless poets and musicians have articulated throughout past centuries. Being rich is great, when money is the thing you need to answer questions and solve problems. But when capital isn’t sufficient, a man’s true colors begin to show. And no amount of money could make this interaction any more pleasant.
“Hey buddy, I’ll take the tab. And add 18% please.”
“18%?” I thought. What a low-grade level of compensation for a far above average waiter that makes his bread and butter off of scum like this. I didn’t make enough that night. I don’t know if he was aware of how skimpy the tip actually was. Maybe he just wasn’t paying attention to the numbers. It’s beyond me. All I know is that I got paid less than normal to wait on an extremely high maintenance client full of complaints and extensive lip service. But complements don’t pay the bills. Maybe he meant well. More than likely he didn’t think far enough to give two shits about the servers that went out of their way to cater to him and his entitled group of friends and family. It was his daughter's 15th birthday. She came across as 18+ with a lovely frame and a charming smile. I caught several older men giving her a look as she walked into the private dining room. I couldn’t believe it at first. Isn’t it despicable for a middle-aged man to gawk at a girl far below the legal age? Not my place. I’m just a server. Put the blinders on—professional aura, expertise in every step of service from picking up plates to articulating features, and a “can-do” smile that diffuses tension and makes me appear completely willing to accommodate any request. To my core, I truly am available to fulfill any request. If a guest needs me to venture across the street for a pack of smokes or a small bottle of Advil, I’ll do it without question. I’m that kind of server. But this gentleman (I say that to formalize our interaction, not to commend his character) was impossible to please and made it a point to be difficult. I let it be. Just another night in the business of pleasing clients and tailoring an exquisite dining experience. Then again, the guest has to want that. I can only do so much when the man sitting in the chairs I’ve dusted and positioned precisely around the table wants to complain and bicker about the most tangential details. What can I do? Smile, accommodate each request promptly, and fulfill the role high-profile clients expect of me. Most are complete strangers. But my job doesn’t change due to that. I’m in it for the money and the experience. And on that night, both end goals were severely lacking.
As I walk around the table, surveying empty glasses and dirty plates, clearing away superfluous items, I can’t help but overhear the conversation. The same man I’ve overanalyzed from the first minute I saw him takes lead of the dialogue. What followed was a disturbing back and forth about gender, sexual equality, and current political affairs.
“Most of this shit, all the #metoo stuff…some of these girls, with the way they dress, they’re asking for it. You know what I call a girl dressed all slutty? A pound sign. That’s what I call them. They’re begging to be pounded. That’s what it comes down to.”
The man’s wife looks at him passively, attempting to dismiss the comment, but too apprehensive to call his bluff outright. Lots of cheap laughter and eye-contact evasion follows. The comment was off-putting, at best. Absurdly sexist and hateful, at worst. Whatever his intentions were, they were lost in his crudely expressed viewpoint of the role of women in society and his generic aura of pretension and esotericism. I certainly couldn’t relate to him. I needed only to oblige him. He couldn’t give a damn where I’m from, what I’ve been through, who I claim to be. Why would he? I’m just a glorified butler, here to accommodate his every request.
On nights like this, the waiting game gets old real fast. Feeding the mouths of entitled individuals, selling steaks and wine to the those who could care less about a price point, embracing the role of server and personal assistant in a world dominated by the rich and powerful—it’s all mad, every part. But until the world opens up to me, I’ll do my part, pouring wine, serving cocktails, picking plates up, setting others down, cleaning tables, smiling when a guest asks for my opinion, balancing on the tightrope of the perception of others and the obligation to meet and exceed expectations. It’s a mad science, this waiting game.
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grantplant · 7 years ago
Text
One-derful
Mira is one! I’ve been stewing over what I might say about this that isn’t patently obvious (it went too fast, it continues to go too fast, she is magnificent and I love her explosively) and largely failing to come up with anything adequate. I think part of my paralysis is due to reading back through my journals from the past year. As I feared, my nightly entries did little to capture her magic at every stage. My tendency was to recount what we—or she—did in a day: hilarious moments, accomplishments, napping/eating trends, challenges, firsts, and always the sentiments, “I am so tired,” and “I love her so much.” Contrary to my intentions, the vast majority of it is really boring, though these last twelve months have been anything but. And even as I tried to recount all the major moments and pay very close attention to the passage of time, that it wouldn’t bring me up short and remorseful, I still can’t pinpoint when her face lost its baby-roundness or she started having a noticeable will, or how it is that she went from helpless and unknowing to capable and clever.
To my dismay, I am finding that describing Mira and how I feel about her with words alone is like trying to explain how something tastes based on its color. Surely someone somewhere has been able to do this, to write of love and the beloved with shape and sound and texture and dimension enough that it and they are recreated or preserved on the page, but I seem unequal to the task.
My reflections on Year One (and my attempts to translate those reflections into words) have been further waylaid by the actual fact of celebrating this occasion. Pat took Friday off for her birthday, which was the best present she could have received. On Saturday we had the world’s lowest-key birthday party, with a smash-and-grab Pikachu cake that Mira preferred to daintily paw at until I cut her a slice. While neither day was in any way action-packed or particularly taxing (in fact, her naps were inordinately long, giving us ample down-time) we were all-the-way worn out by Sunday. So tired that I spent an hour wrapped in a towel because getting dressed seemed way hard. So tired that, once I did get dressed, I feel asleep fully clothed on top of the covers. I could barely conceive of baking cupcakes for Mira’s day care celebration. Trying to ice each zucchini muffin (gah, I know. I’ve become that mother) with recognizable cat faces at 10 o’clock at night felt like an insurmountable task. How many parents, I wondered, have cried over cupcake decorating for no good reason?
I’m attributing all of this—all of the “I can’t even…” from her birthday until now—to emotional exhaustion. A complete head-and-heart overwhelm. How are we already here? One year—one truly indescribable year—gone. Despite my vigilance, time got to me anyway.
Leading up to Mira’s birthday, I’ve been trying to fill out her baby book, not just with all of the milestones and observations logged in my journals, but those things I’ve been stashing away in her baby box: sonograms, her hospital bracelet, the footprint from her first day on the outside, photos from the baby shower. Yet another attempt on my part to catalogue every possible thing as insurance against forgetting. When Mira woke up from her afternoon nap on Friday, she was ready to play, while I was still trying to make my deadline and finish the baby book project. It wasn’t lost on me that I was distracted from recording details about my child by the actual child herself, clamoring for our attention.
This happened later that same day as I was decorating her birthday cake. Pat had run out for icing reinforcements. The kitchen counter was strewn with food coloring and various implements to make this lump of zucchini loaf (gaaaaaaah I know! Zucchini loaf?! Who am I?) look like Pikachu. While I was painstakingly using cream cheese to create a gleam in his circle-stamped chocolate eye, Mira didn’t give a hoot that his nose was off-center and his smile uneven. She just wanted some Mom.
I imagine photographers struggle with this tension regularly: to commemorate or participate. To record or engage. Obviously I feel strongly that the documentation is important, but what if it interferes with the actual interactions that warrant the documentation in the first place?
And what if the documentation little reflects the reality you’re trying to capture, as with my journals?
I have been in a year-long panic over how to remember her sounds and smells, the look on her face when she tries a new food or falls asleep, the feeling of her hair in my face or the way she walks behind her push-toy, all stiff-legged and herky jerky. The inimitable sounds she makes with her mouth as she baby babbles, imitating our speech and intonation in her own singular language. Thank god for videos. I’ve resisted the urge to just set up a camera that will record every moment of every day, that we truly have a way to travel through space and time at will, but that would be, well, excessive. What about saving a smell, though, or a touch? Upon which technology might I rely for that?
I understand (and appreciate!) the biological imperative of forgetting pain. We know we had pain, but our brains erase the exact sensations we felt. Otherwise who might ever run another marathon or pay their taxes or submit to annual dental cleanings or, well, have another child? And is the price of that necessary forgetting, then, an inability to summon the precise sensations of the sublime? I know, of course, it happened, and I associate it all with the most perfect contentment, but the particulars are maddeningly blurred at the edges, like a beautiful dream that slowly evaporates over the course of a day.
My mom says, and I believe, that this is why people go on to have multiple kids. Not (only) because the mother has forgotten the unbelievably excruciating pain of giving birth, or both parents recall that they were sleep deprived but can’t still feel the specific sensory agony. They do it again to experience once more the spectacular, the ecstasy, that can’t otherwise be summoned.
No amount of photos or videos or journaling, no words or metaphors or blog post, can really do Mira justice. Anything I do or make of her outside of real-time is a simulacrum: bits and pieces, parts of the whole, fragments and outlines. And even if anything could save it all—the full five-sense experience of her—what use would it be for anyone but me or Pat, or maybe the grandparents, who, because of nature and instinct and survival, love her beyond all measure and reason. Through the eyes of another, she is something altogether different from who and what we see.
It’s a losing battle, these efforts to outmaneuver time and the limits of recollection, but it’s the only means we have of remembering what we can, however blurry the edges, however imperfect the impression. Even knowing that there’s nothing to hold of these cherished intangibles, I keep grasping at the fleeting and gossamer.
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