#I'm playing it for the first time after like a year and a half

[ace-of-bass]

Also: Building community is not just an outreach tool. It is a tool of keeping ourselves safe and keeping resources available to all. Offering things on social media like rides to abortion clinics, or diy hrt, or anything else that is perhaps not-totally-legal in all places, is not a great strategy. For one, you shouldn't trust strangers on the internet with information that sensitive, so those you are offering those services to would do well not to trust you. If you want to meaningfully contribute to providing things such as the above, or even more legal-but-logistically-complex things like feeding a large number of people, handing out narcan, etc, you need to organize in person. How do you organize in person? By meeting people in person, aka building community.

If this is your goal, you can start with people who are very similar to you! You don't have to start by reaching out to Alt Right David or even Annoying Uncle Bill - you can start by going to a local show or a group that meets at the library or hanging out with your D&D group when you're not actively playing D&D. Then, you have friends that you can rely on to take care of you, and who you might be able to plan some cool mutual aid shit with. I've been working on building community for awhile, at first not intentionally and lately very intentionally, and here's how I met the group of friends I started a monthly free store with:

1. Met Friend A at a choir thing since I like to sing and was looking for friends after moving somewhere new. Friend A ultimately left choir but we stayed friends, and at one point I told Friend A I'm ace.

2. Friend A said, "oh you'd love my friend B, who's also ace! She's doing a comedy show, let's go see her perform together and then you can meet her!"

3. Friend B and I become friends, and start a local peer support group for aspec people, based mostly on Friend B's existing communities and our sheer determination.

4. Fast forward a year and a half, Friend C comes to our aspec peer support group and I become friends with her.

5. Friend C and I are talking about activism, and Friend C says a lot of the things I'm interested in aligns with what Friend D has talked to her about. Friend C introduces me to Friend D.

6. Independently, I have been building a community space on my street, in the rough neighborhood of where Friend C, Friend D, and I live.

7. Friend D and I want to create a solarpunk future but decide to start small. Friend D ropes in several of his friends, one of whom I happen to know from the community space mentioned in 6.

8. This group of friends runs a free store once a month in the community space, open for all to donate to and all to attend. As we find out about others who are doing/want to do similar things, we try to join forces. In this way we've expanded from just a free store to a free store + clothing swap, and we're only on our third time hosting it.

All of these friends are lefty, and all of them are queer in some way or another. The free store friends are explicitly anarchist, like me. I think OP's point is useful for deradicalization and for growing the movement, but if you are alone and you are scared, encouragement to build community is just as much about finding your people in person as it is about forming coalitions with those different in you.

Another important note is that finding people like you should be a starting point, not an ending point. The goal of this is not to find friends, though that's a good start. The goal is to build dual power, which is done by working together with others and having open doors to join the movement. Once you've found some friends or communities, work to ensure that they are open to all, that you are reaching the people who most need the work you are doing, and that you are not simply making yourself feel good or just having a good time with your friends.

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[cadaveerie]

cw: child abuse and non-sexual grooming

VEILGUARD SPOILERS (from lucanis' writing, a mission towards the ending and a little general)

About Lucanis and the Antivan Crows...

after finishing datv, I can finally say for sure that despite the fact that i find this game was overall fine, there are several things about it that have disappointed me. one of those things is about lucanis (and it's not even the only thing about lucanis that bothers me, but we'll leave that discussion for another time, because there's a lot to say about the writing).

in this game, Caterina Dellamorte (lucanis and illario's grandmother) is portrayed as a woman that's cold and demanding. not particularly nice, lucanis fully acknowledges that she's not exactly the loving type, and it's easy to assume things about her and about their relationship based on that... but for some reason it's never addressed that she abused lucanis when he was a child, by beating him and starving him. this is something that you can read in lucanis' story in tevinter nights, the wigmaker job, which was lucanis' introduction.

"Memories of sweat-filled days without food or water came unbidden Lucanis’s back tingled from where his grandmother’s cane had bruised his flesh for letting his guard down or fumbling his footwork. For years, he’d hated her. But his time as a Master taught Lucanis that Caterina’s cruelty was her way he was prepared for this life—that he survived."

I was waiting to finish the game before I said it, because I expected him to mention at some point but... no, nothing. I don't know if there's anything in a codex or something specific I missed, but even if that's the case, I expected it to be significant at all. it wasn't.

i'm not even going to get into what lucanis should feel about this. before the game came out i talked about some of my hopes for him based on the info we had about him, and imo there was not even half of that level of depth to his character. but i wouldnt have minded if the game went in another direction, or if lucanis simply just wasnt open to discuss it, or if he came to the conclusion that it was fine. i won't get into how "problematic" thinking that is, because i could understand that he tells himself that, and as a fucking assassin, i understand that he's come to terms with it because otherwise he probably wouldnt have survived in such a dangerous enviroment. i won't get into it bc as i said, i can understand it. my problem is that lucanis never says it. he never tells rook or anyone else that caterina abused him, or that the crows overall are very abusive and that they do this to children and break their minds basically in order to become emotionless living weapons. and if this is said in any banter, then i missed it in my 91h of gameplay, and i had lucanis in my party every single time we went outside. or it might be in a codex entry, idk. the point is that even if that's the case, that's not a great way to tell this info, especially when in the story theres no other way to learn anything like this about the crows. ppl that i talked to that didnt read tevinter nights didnt know this fact abt caterina and lucanis' past, they simply didnt cause how could they. I just wanted to say this because I think it's important to know if you like lucanis, or the antivan crows, and it's never even actually implied.

I also have many other issues with his writing, but the antivan crows are unfortunately also whitewashed. at least if you've played dragon age origins you know this, but our first antivan crow companion, zevran, talks about how he was taken as a child by the antivan crows. how he was literally bought by them as an orphan, and forced to become an assassin, and when he tries to flee, they attempt to murder him throughout the game. he even talks about how apparently some crows even made their members go through blood magic rituals to acquire abilities (SOUND FAMILIAR? IT'S LITERALLY WHAT ZARA DOES TO LUCANIS, ISN'T IT. HOW FUCKED UP). i think it's so disrespectful to dragon age's worldbuilding and so appalling that they simply... ignored all of this. I'm very upset that this was completely whitewashed. i wont get into it, but i assume they didn't show the crows being awful because, well... they have to be the good alternative for government in antiva. the bad guys are the antaam, and that's it. but one of the things i always loved about dragon age is how they treat these sort of political things. as i said, in origins the crows were more of an antagonistic figure, but at least it made them feel more real and serious. and people loved the crows like they were, fucked up assassins. in this game... idk, am i supposed to believe the assassin guys are nice? why hide the ugly? of course it's gonna be there, and it's ok. irl it happens a lot that oppressed people have to rely on groups that are less than ideal for their liberation, and a lot of times citizens are kinda ok w it bc no one else will stand up for them, so they have to work w what they have, and they're just relieved theres someone there for them. and it also shows that people are not perfect victims. if you're putting ppl in a corner, at some point ppl are rarely gonna care about being "good", and it's only human. and im not even gonna get into being an antivan crow rook because... sigh, it's more of the same. just disappointing. rook even mentions that theyre an orphan. and im pretty sure in the final mission about treviso, at least if you helped jacobus, he is like "i'll take in orphans and give them a chance". oh man, yeah. cool. please tell me how you'll raise them to be, im so curious to see how you won't groom children and abuse them into becoming mindless cold soldiers. that's fucking insane. this feels like fucking US army levels of propaganda and grooming. i love when we normalize child soldiers that's so fucking awesome i love this "woke" game when it's pro-military and anti-fucking-questioning-anything-a-military-force-does.

i even wondered if all of this has been retconned or simply ignored. i dont have a problem w retconning overall, and it's only natural it would happen in a franchise that's as old as DA, but the thing is... why would you do it. it literally just makes them flatter, it doesn't make any fucking sense.

so yes. im VERY disappointed in this game and the writing. this is one of the many things in the writing that disappointed me. the antivan crows are an organization that bring hope, and im perfectly fine with them being portrayed as "saviors", but im not ok with them conveniently not addressing any of their very bad issues. it's unrealistic. it's disrespectful to our intelligence, to dragon age fans and to dragon age origins. it's disrespectful to characters like zevran, who got into an insane war with them for a fucking reason. it's disrespectful to every antivan crow character to be honest. and im sorry, i dont even think this is insane to ask from them. like.... im literally just asking for consistency. they had it already, i dont understand why they did this. i had faith in them, but perhaps that's on me. im so heartbroken.

and i promise i actually think the game overall is ok. it was fun. definitely one of my least favorite games, if not my least favorite, but still. i appreciate it, and LOVED. LOVEEED some scenes. in fact, it might have at the very least one of my favorite scenes from the whole franchise. i think this game has very low points, and very high points, so it's hard to say what i think about it in few words.... but there are so many things like this in the writing, and it's just SO upsetting and disrespectful. im sorry. im truly sorry, you don't know how much i wanted to love this game and the writing. you have no idea. but i have self respect, and i don't lie to myself when i see something i dont like. it feels like they're whitewashing the crows cause we'd be too stupid to understand complex political issues. i thought this game was mature and could handle mature themes, but it doesnt seem like it's the case anymore. perhaps bioware is dead. i still want to believe they can come back from this but......... the post credit scene doesnt reassure me AT ALL. sigh. im just upset and sad. and as i said, this is only one of my many issues. i'll talk about the rest in the future, but im writing all of it down and i need time for that. i hope you understand that this comes from a place of genuine love. sorry i can't be happy about this game, but some of the stuff i see just ruins the rest for me.

edit: someone told me that apparently theres a banter when you go to dellamorte's villa and lucanis *implies* that he was beat by his grandmother (at least to another antivan crow rook). this whole post still stands though. i think that should have not been a banter that i (and im sure others) missed. and again, it also ties to how i think the crows as an organization and their methods were whitewashed. even if it's not particularly a lucanis problem, it could have been to some extent addressed by him.

[hoonieyun]

collecting tears - jongseong

jar of tears that were shed for jongseong

park jongseong x reader "y/n"

genre: angst, breakup, the one that got away

warnings: profanity, mental illness/depression, overall 18+

summary: no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get jongseong out of your head. two years after your tear filled and emotional breakup, he's still on your mind but it seems he hasn't thought about you since that night.

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier olivia rodrigo - happier word count: 2007

text in italics are flashbacks

You saw him in everything. 

You saw him in the way your glasses reflected the light as it sat on your vanity.

You saw him in the way your guitar collected dust in the corner of your bedroom. 

And you saw him in your reflection as you stared at your tear stained face and dark circles under your eyes. 

The memory of Jongseong that you held onto hurt more than the idea of being without him, because being without him only led to the memories of when you were with him, something that no longer exists in your life. 

Jongseong. 

The events of your tear filled and emotional breakup replays in your mind often, Jongseong’s tired face and the broken picture frame scattered into thousands of pieces in your bedroom. You could hear the argument in your head like it was playing through a speaker that followed you wherever you went. The last words you ever spoke to him ringing in your ears as a constant reminder that your inability to process your emotions and failure to stabilize your mind was the reason you were so lonely, even two whole years after your breakup. 

It’s a gloomy afternoon in the middle of September. The weather foreshadows the inevitable dreary, dull, and dark outcome of what your life would be for years to come. You had been in bed all day, crippled by your anxiety and depression, making it difficult for you to make any rational decisions or clear judgement of what you should be doing. 

Your phone fills with unanswered calls and texts that would remain unanswered until you convinced yourself enough that you weren’t a burden to others. Something that you wouldn’t be able to shake off for almost half a year from today. A feeling that still lingers and creeps up onto you every now and then. 

“Honey?” a voice asks from beyond the darkness of your bedroom. You quickly wiped away your tears and did your best to make it seem like you weren’t crying the whole day. Pulling yourself up and dragging the blanket further up your body to cover yourself as if your boyfriend, Jongseong, was anyone you should be hiding away from. His tenderness and soft demeanor was the first thing that attracted you towards him, his good looks was just a plus. 

“Honey, are you still sleeping?” Jongseong asks as he slowly pushes the door of your bedroom open, a slight creak sounding from the hinges as light emerges from the other side of the door, Jongseong’s silhouette outlined by the light. “Hi… No, i’ve just been in bed. Doing some thinking…” you say, trying to avoid the fact that you were just crying and hoping that he doesn’t notice as he makes his way closer. 

Your bed dips as Jongseong takes a seat next to your figure, still hiding under the blanket. It goes without being said but Jongseong knew you all too well.

He knew when you were really happy over fake happy because true joy spreads across your face when your eyes widen and you blink a thousan times, like you were trying your best to contain your joy but ultimately failing. 

He knew when you were upset because you would sniffle your nose as a way to avoid awkward silence or having to voice out your feelings. 

And he knew when you were sad because you’d rather surround yourself in the comfort of the darkness instead of reaching out to the hand that could pull you away from the dark. Much like how you were right now. 

Jongseong would’ve never abandoned you. He vowed that he would always be by your side no matter what, had you let him. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he asks, already knowing the answer but he’s made it a habit to encourage you to vocalize your feelings so that it would be easier for you to process them. You only hummed in response but you knew that you should’ve told him how you felt in that moment because it only manifested into something worse. 

He sighs at your response, he would be lying if he said that sometimes he wished it was easier, but what was love if it didn’t have some ups and downs. Jongseong just hoped that it was up more than it was down. You scoff at him. Your anxiety was already talking you closer to a ledge and you didn’t need this from him right now. You were convinced that he only came here to make you more upset and the voices validated that outrageous claim over the evidence that Jongseong only had love for you. 

“You don’t need to be here. You can leave.” your harsh words piercing into Jongseong’s heart, a feeling of guilt over hurt as he had hoped his presence alone would be enough to make you feel better but it only made you feel worse and he didn’t know why. 

“Why would I leave? I want to be here, let me take care of you.” Jongseong says, inching closer to you but you quickly recoil away from, widening the distance like your mattress was meters long. “What’s wrong? Y/N, talk to me…” Jongseong urges but his pleas of wanting to be let in only read as judgement. Like he was judging you for the way you were instead of trying to understand you. Your mind forces a lie for you to believe over the truth, that Jongseong loved you and he wished you knew how much he did. 

He loved you more than anxiety loved to cling onto the smallest piece of doubt in your mind. 

He loved you more than you loved the darkness. 

And he loved you more than words could say but no amount of words could ever tell you that. 

“Just leave, I don’t need you here to think I’m someone to take care of and be seen as a burden!” you say, voice now a bit louder as frustration begins to build inside of you. “Honey, you’re not a burden and I’d never treat you like that.” Jongseong says as he settles his hand over your thigh, rubbing it softly over the blanket. 

“Why do you do that? Huh?!” you ask, scattering away from his touch and dragging yourself out of bed to stand in front of him. 

“You think you can just come in here and act like I’m some poor and unfortunate thing that needs to be fixed or that needs to be looked after. I know you see me as a burden Jongseong, you just don’t want to say it because you’d rather convince yourself that you love me instead of facing the truth. 

What did you even come here for? To make sure that I wasn’t doing well? So you could come and swoop in to save the day? You see me as nothing more than just a sick puppy to take care of. You’ve only stayed as long as you have because you pity me more than you love me.” the words just continue to spill out of you. the voices inside of your head had fully convinced you that everything you were saying was the truth and you were only just helping Jongseong face it. 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He loved you more than anything and he couldn’t process the fact that you only saw him as someone that pitied you over someone that truly loves you. Because he did. He loved you… or was he starting to believe that what you were saying was in fact the truth. 

“How could you say that?” Jongseong says, voice low and discouraged. Great, now you had upset him and intead of focusing on yourself you now had to worry about your boyfriend’s feelings. 

“I- You know what. We’re done. Get out.” your voice was dull but it stabbed Jongseong’s heart like it was nothing. “What?” he says in disbelief and you don’t even give him time to process as you're grabbing his wrists and doing your best to drag him out of your apartment. His body was heavy as he tried to stop you but there was something, aside from you, pulling Jongseong out of your apartment and away from you. 

Was it wrong to say that maybe there was a small chance he had been waiting for you to push him away? That he had been secretly hoping you would finally get tired of him so that he no longer had to deal with you? Was that so wrong for him to want to be happy in the chance that it meant not being happy with you?

As he pondered these questions, the slam of your front door knocked him out of his thoughts, eyes glued onto the brown paint of the front door. Jongseong contimplated to knock on the door, beg for him to be let in, but he chooses not. Dropping his hand to his side with a sigh as he turns on his heel and walks away from your apartment. 

And ultimately walking away from you, forever. 

You, on the other hand, waited on the other side of the door, tears welling in your eyes the longer you waited for Jongseong to try and make his way back in. Hoping that you would hear his voice that you loved so much, ask for you to open the door so he could take care of you. 

Because maybe, even if you thought you didn’t need it, you did need to be taken care of. And Jongseong was the person who had done that for as long as you could remember. 

But the longer you waited the more sadness and regret filtered out the insecurity and doubt. Leaving you to stand in your home, alone, and never to see Jongseong again. 

You drag yourself back into your bedroom, flickering the light on and the first thing your eyes fall to is the framed photo of you and Jongseong. The photo was of the day he asked you to be his girlfriend. A photo of you sitting in the middle of a field for a picnic that he had planned. Flowers and your favorite food and snacks sitting next to the both of you on the picnic blanket. 

The anger you felt from the photo surged throughout your body and without even thinking you swipe the photo off your vanity, tears flowing from your eyes as it crashes to the floor into thousands of pieces. 

You would have hoped that two years after your breakup that you would’ve gotten better and gotten over him, but you fell back into the cycle of shrouding in darkness when a photo of Jongseong appears on your SNS. 

He’s smiling, hair done in the way you liked, in a suit that made him look like a prince, and an arm around the waist of a girl you didn’t know. Your eyes trailed over from his arms, to her waist, to her arm, and then to the ring on her finger. 

It felt like your heart shattered in that moment. Like you were offended and hurt that Jongseong would ever choose another girl over you as if you gave him a choice like you hadn’t made that choice for him. 

More tears well in your eyes as you glance over to Jongseong again. His smile was so beautiful and that was when you realized you had never seen him smile like that when he was with you. He seemed so happy and it hurt even more knowing that he was happy without you. 

But there was no one to blame but you. 

You forced him away and what a waste of a life for Jongseong to never choose happiness. 

You only ever wished that he would be happy. 

Just as long as he’s not happier without you. 

Maybe in another life. When you weren’t so convinced that everyone hated you and that you were deserving of Jongseong’s love. 

Maybe in another life. 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

the credit for the lyrics used in this piece of writing go to their rightful owners

[taliesin-the-bored]

It was a musical, but...I am not beating the allegations.

I shall take this as an opportunity to ramble about Rómeó és Júlia, the subject of said allegations by @unstark, who may have created a monster (/j; thank you for doing so).

The first thing to know is that I haven't read Romeo and Juliet since middle school and liked it well enough then but wasn't really enthused because I liked the poetic elements but found the romance somewhat grating. However, I am a theater kid/opera nerd at heart, and looking at different versions of things and analyzing the connections, sometimes to an obsessive degree, is one of the things I live for (that's part of the lure of Arthuriana).

The second is that Rómeó és Júlia (ResJ) is fantastic, in large part because the cast is incredibly talented. I've seen all or a good portion of several different language versions of the musical, which originated in France as Roméo et Juliette (RetJ), and they all have good or decent but reasonably similar Juliets and mostly fine to mediocre Romeos. In addition to having a good Juliet, this Romeo, played by Dolhai Attila, was quite charming as an actor as well as a great singer so the rest have been mostly downhill. I am afraid, though, that like most of the people on ResJ/RetJ Tumblr, the characters I found most interesting were Mercutio and Tybalt, who both vary wildly from production to production. In ResJ, Mercutio (who fans call Zolicutio because he's played by Zoltán Bereczki) is a force of nature, and I did not properly appreciate that the first time I watched it. He sings, dances almost constantly, acts well, and raps in Magyar, and he never seems to stop or slack in energy until he dies. Tybalt, on the other hand, is a deeply tortured soul who's occasionally comedic in his melodrama (he does the Mr. Bean walk once) but has genuine pathos. I originally watched the first half without subtitles and did not realize the...ahem...concerning nature of his thoughts about Juliet, but that's in almost every version of the musical, and it is not as big a trigger warning as the obvious one, which is that Romeo and Juliet includes onstage suicide and murder, as well as references to sexual content. This is probably the first thing anyone learns about Romeo and Juliet, but I thought I should put that out there to be safe. Anyway, Szilveszter Szabó was vastly different than how I pictured Tybalt while reading the play, but he was excellent and brought a new perspective to the character. You love to see it. Also, ResJ Benvolio is a punk with the heart of a golden retriever, another far-from-the-play take which works in its context.

Now, the 2010 French version. I followed ResJ with the RetJ revival because John Eyzen's Mercutio is the second most popular Mercutio on Tumblr, after the inimitable Zolicutio, and I wanted to see what the hype was about. He is vastly, vastly different, both from how I imagined Mercutio and how Mercutio is in any other production. Eycutio alternates between stillness and over-the-top energy. He may or may not be bad mental illness rep. He may or may not be beholden to the madness-inducing entities of Chaos. Eyzen fully embraced the vibes of "La Follie" and the Queen Mab speech Mercutio has in Shakespeare to create a very unstable dude who revels in unpredictability and danger to a greater degree than Zolicutio and has probably won Best-Haired Veronese Man three years in a row. He has a love/hate relationship with Tybalt and flirts with him while fighting. (Zolicutio also flirts with Tybalt, but less in a I've-secretly-liked-you-since-we-were-twelve-but-also-hate-you-and-we-kissed-at-a-party-once-but-you-pretend-you-don't-remember-and-I'm-going-to-make-that-hard-for-you way than an I-bet-you're-into-me-and-also-that-you'll-hate-this-and-I-could-be-into-you-but-it's-not-clear-and-I-canonically-kissed-Romeo-but-didn't-seem-serious-about-it-and-I-rap-about-not-liking-romance-and-it-might-be-to-hide/drown/prevent-the-pain-or-I-might-be-aroallo-and-thriving way). Tim Ross's 2nd Tybalt looks and acts like the unlikely and maltreated test-tube child of George Michael and Cruella de Vil, and I'm going to leave it about that, because I have rambled too long without mentioning that Romeo's costume is exceptionally terrible in this one, that I really did not like Escalus, and that the Nurse was fantastic. All in all, what this one has to recommend it is the excellent Nurse, plus Tybalt and Mercutio's unevenly acted but ultimately interesting dynamic, which is the stuff of Fanlore pages.

I have not watched all of the 2001 French original, even though many people say Cécilia Cara is the best Juliet, because the other Juliets are also good and apparently a bald Mercutio is one thing I cannot take. (I could under certain conditions. If he were a young cancer patient, then that would add an urgency to his fervor for living life to the fullest, and a suspicion that he's going to die painfully soon whatever he does could influence his recklessness, but him being considerably older and more sophisticated than Romeo is weird). I might watch more of it, but it's low priority.

Apart from those, I've watched large parts of the Italian and Israeli ones, which I prefer to the French ones in acting but not in singing. The Italian one is a lot more dramatic than the Israeli one, which is maybe the least dramatic RetJ variant ever but pulls it off really well. The characters seem like normal people you would meet who try their best but get caught up in a tragedy bigger than they can understand. Of special note, as usual, is that ever-shifting scene, the duel between Mercutio and Tybalt, and this is the most original take on it I've seen. What sets it apart is that THEY DON'T EVEN DISLIKE EACH OTHER. You get the sense that they've had a lighthearted rivalry since they were kids but they're sort of friends and it's all a game to them. It's also the only version I've seen where those two actually have fencing swords, so the fight looks more realistic, emphasizing that they're playing with fire. When he realizes Mercutio is dying, Tybalt is visibly devastated and seems to lose the will to live. I don't usually cry at movies or shows, but that is the version which brought me the closest to crying.

I would like to watch the 2019 Toho version, since it comes highly recommended, but am not sure where to and might have to wait a while on that one. After I'm done with the Italian one, I intend to watch the Russian one, the German one, and the alternate cast recording of the Hungarian one. As for the English one...well, I've listened to a bit of it, and it was awful.

If you want to watch multiple versions at once or see which ones you might like, there is a great playlist on YouTube where someone edited together parts of the videos of different versions. If you want an incoherent-without-watching-the-full-thing but possibly still entertaining look into it, watch this compilation someone made, which is extremely funny if you've actually seen the full musical.

If you've read this entire semi-coherent ramble, you're a trooper. I hope it was vaguely interesting. Have a wonderful day!

it’s really easy to become obsessed with a shakespeare play you just have to watch one version of it and then read the play and then go mad trying to watch every possible version of it you can find and then study several centuries worth of performance history and controversy

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Where we go from here...

It took me awhile last evening to get my mind in the right place to do the baking I had to do. I thought I would put on some music on my little radio station to kick my head into work mode. Tried some Glenn Gould playing Bach (always a go-to for morning coffee music), and it didn't hit right.

So I dialed up the huge mix I have titled "1969-72" and almost immediately started the long road back to feeling like myself. After about a half-hour, I was in the groove. Listened to the mix far into the night, after I'd finished working.

I managed to keep my focus and got the cookies all baked, and kiddo's mom happily packed them up and just left for her party, and I'm over here for the next couple of nights, sadly for my back. Two nights of "No Mattress For Old Men" and I'll need a week to recover, but hey...

Wanna thank all y'all for your comments and messages when I posted that I was prolly just gonna go black. Y'all loved me back off the ledge. Posted in a moment of true despair...something I haven't felt in awhile. I am hurting for all of us...and all of you. I have never in my long life been scared for the nation until now. Or at least that's what I thought. This feeling of complete despair, the emotional pain of millions of people, the hopelessness, the fear for the future...after I sat with it awhile I realized yes, that I have felt this same combination of toxic shit before.

In the 65 years I've been on this stinkin' rock, I've been through a number of particularly devastating previous elections, most notably the two Bush2(Dumbya) regimes. I remember the night of the 2004 election...Americans were posting tearful photos taken by their webcams, with them holding up signs saying "We're sorry."

I saw first-hand all the fights for rights that we have gained from the early '60s onward. To find ourselves set back to square one, 50-60 years later, when we had finally gained some footing toward fairness, is cruel. And cruelty is what they will wield as their main weapons in the coming days, as we suddenly find ourselves in the same predicament as 1963-65 when a virginal Joan Baez and little Bobby Dylan changed protest music forever.

So yes, I have felt this same way, and no, the nation didn't die or descend into complete chaos. Our lives went on, essentially as they had, with a growing pile of "things we can't do anymore" heaped atop via the collective wounding of 9/11.

This is another collective wounding--an intentional collective wounding. The next few months are going to be chaotic, they will try to push through their agenda as quickly as possible come january.

I may not post much overtly political stuff from this point on, but if I do it will be refocused on positive news. I don't know for certain how long that might last, but I can't take a 24/7 barrage of bad news and outrage bait. I'm probably gonna unfollow a few blogs, but don't think it's personal...it is Mental/Emotional Health Care.

And yes, I've been in the trenches with y'all a long time...we are all Family at this point...Brothers and Sisters in arms. I'm not leaving, but my presence/role will be different, out of the renewed sense of self-preservation this has thrust me into.

I woke up disoriented, but quickly remembered I'd gotten what I needed to get done done, and had a slow re-entry, sipping my coffee for a couple hours. I kept remembering how well the music had helped me last night, and then the beginnings of what this might turn into began to coalesce. Concepts of a plan. lulz.

As the day went on, I've been on a roller-coaster, emotionally, with seemingly hopeful leads on a roommate not materializing, on top of my craigslist ad for a roomie getting flagged and deleted. Pretty goddamn hopeless as far as this situation is going.

Looked at the huge box of cookies I'd managed to bake last night and it hit me. I've been reblogging the "Gooood Morning, TUMBLR!" graphics every morning up until the election. The image of Robin Williams being in character calling up the role of the military DJ.

Back when I did my cafe in the mountains of NM, a friend lent me a book called "Radio Venceramos", about South American rebels who had a radio transmitter and clamped the leads to the barbed-wire fences to broadcast their signal/programming to their fellow rebels.

Still not sure how the format will work out, but I've decided: my new role is going to primarily be the voice of inspiration over the air-waves to my fellow rebels. Not sure if it will be a second blog or if it will be a continuation of PTSD, but with no further ado, I will become the Voice of my fellow rebels with:

I may make a second blog out of it, but until then I guess I'll make it a series of posts. Tumblr will let you blog up to ten videos/post, and that may be how I start things out. Consider them like stacks of 45s and LP tracks from my paul-shaffer-brain...meant to help keep spirits up and keep the focus.

Made a couple of graphics, will probably try others in the course of it.

So the message today was "You did what you had to do. Heal up for what's ahead."

I will probably start this new focus in the morning...I'm still chewin'.

[asherlockstudy]

Hi! You seem very knowledgeable about sources of rhink stuff and I saw someone talking about Rhett laying on top of Link when they were younger, did they talk about that on Ear Biscuits or in a video?

Oh my! You are a freshman here! This is not to sound condescending btw, I just genuinely marvelled at how much there is out there for people who are just now getting in the Rhett and Link shipdom fandom to discover.

You're talking about the "I'm dead” move Rhett was pulling on Link quite a bit in the past. Link as a child and as a teen and young man used to throw tantrums and sometimes he was getting too much for Rhett. At such moments, when they were fighting, Rhett would do the "I'm dead" move, he would fall on Link and just play dead on top of him and because he's so large and heavy, Link could not do much and he just lay there enjoying it seething until he calmed down. This would also be a frequent outcome in their wrestling (they used to be obsessed with wrestling). The most famous time, the one they usually talk about, was in their dorm room when they were wrestling in their underwear and Rhett did the dead move on him and a colleague of theirs opened the door and saw them half naked on top of each other. They didn't even say anything if I remember correctly, the colleague's eyes just went very wide and he stepped back slowly and closed the door behind him. Rhett then would joke that apparently a lot of people in the university considered them gay after that.

The interesting thing is that the reason you don't know about it is because all of a sudden they have stopped talking about it entirely although Rhett would not shut up about it in the past. It's not just in an EB or a GMM, some years ago they would bring it up very often. They almost certainly had already mentioned it in the first two seasons of GMM. That back in time! And they kept doing it until like 3-4 years ago I suppose.

So it is in a lot of content and I can't remember all of that but here's one time they re-enacted it for the wheel of mythicality, back when the wheel of mythicality was actually good... The full sequence takes the ending of GMM and the beginning of GMMore.

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 11 ✧˚₊‧

"Happy Halloween!!" Sarah and Suguru shouted, slamming Satoru's dorm room open on a crisp and beautiful Halloween morning.

"S'not evenmm--" he mumbled, barely opening one eye to look at the clock, "Sun's'not evn up yet..."

"That's 'cos we got stuff to do!" Sarah said, appearing right in his face and making him jump back, "C'mon sleepyhead! We gotta get ready!"

He yawned, slamming his face back into his pillow and stretching his legs out. He flexed his toes, the whole bed shaking as he let out that very necessary groan we all have to do when you get a really good stretch going.

"Are we going somewhere or something?" He mumbled, sitting up and letting his head rest on the headboard.

"We're gonna go find Himuro Manor!" Sarah reminded him, "It doesn't have an exact location so we'll have to just look around."

"Oh, right," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his finger tips, "The Fatal Frame house... So it was real?"

"It's already become real through a curse," Suguru said with a shrug, "I'm sure we can find it if we follow the legends about it."

"And if we don't, then we'll just spend the whole day and night in the woods having so much fun," Satoru said sarcastically, reaching into his drawer for a clean shirt.

Sarah automatically faced away as he started to change, sitting on the end of the bed, "But if we actually find it, we can play like ghost hunters!"

"There's no such thing as ghosts," Satoru said with a roll of his eyes, "It's not ghosts. Just curses."

"Pfff," Sarah rolled her eyes with just as much sass, "Curses and ghosts are the same thing."

"Curses can kill you, a ghost isn't real and so it can't," he said with a sneer, "Two different things."

"Okay well let's just pretend they're ghosts then," Sarah huffed, "Be cool, Glacier Freeze."

Suguru stepped in between before they started to really get worked up. He grabbed both of them by the collars of their shirts and pulled them along with a shake of his head. "Too early for sass," he said, "Let's go. We have a drive ahead."

The day before they'd already prepped everything they might need for a long adventure in the woods. Everything vital like snacks and soda and a couple flashlights, all the important stuff of course. Convincing a manager in training to drive them there was the most difficult part, really. They had to offer to cover for him on three nights coming up, around Christmas time of course, but the price was easily worth it.

"What's so special about this place anyway?" Satoru asked with a heavy sigh, buckling into his seat a half hour later, "I barely remember that game. The second one was way better, yeah?"

"It was," Sarah agreed, "But this one was set in just the mansion so it was probably easier for the collective consciousness to make."

"Well maybe nostalgia for the second one will manifest a real village someday," Suguru said with a shrug, "We are lucky we could make this happen at all. Normally they don't let the first years do investigations."

"What did you tell Yaga?" Shoko asked, "How did you convince him?"

"I just asked," Suguru said with a shrug, but a certain twinkle in his eye told Shoko it was better not to ask right then. She raised her brows and simply continued with, "So are we just playing around or are we actually going to exorcise it?"

"Fun first, kill it after," Satoru said, adjusting his shirt while he slouched down, "We can play around in the spooky house for a bit and then take out the curse when we're done."

"Does this count as my first mission?!" Sarah said excitedly and Satoru patted her head. She swatted at his hand and he grinned at her.

"Don't worry, I'll keep my cute little underclassman safe," he teased then smirked as she slapped at the infinity between them when he kept her flying fists away.

"When we find a ghost imma make it haunt you!" She huffed, and he cackled as he leaned back in his seat.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The old manor loomed before them, nearly swallowed by the encroaching woods. Its darkened wood, once richly brown and varnished, had faded to a splotchy gray-black under years of relentless weather. In some places, ivy and twisting vines crawled up its walls, disappearing into crevices and windows like nature’s attempt to reclaim it entirely. Trees grew so close to the structure that their branches scratched against the eaves with the barest breeze, their roots winding thickly around the foundation like the gnarled fingers of some ancient guardian.

The air around them felt strangely thick, muted as if wrapped in a damp, musty blanket. The forest at night was utterly still, almost unnaturally so. Not a single cricket chirped; not a single leaf rustled. It was as though every living creature, from the tiniest bug to the tallest tree, held its breath, wary of breaking the heavy silence that blanketed the woods. Even the wind dared not disturb the silence, making the night feel like a quiet void around the old manor.

As Shoko, Suguru, Satoru, and Sarah approached the crooked steps leading to the main entrance, the floorboards creaked ominously beneath their feet. Each step groaned in protest, some splintered and fraying at the edges, threatening to snap under their weight. The smell of rot and damp wood mixed with the faint, lingering scent of old incense, as if the place still clung to memories of its past.

When they finally reached the heavy front door, Satoru pushed it open with a slight shove. It dragged against the floor with a low, tortured groan. As they stepped inside, a sudden chill cut through the air. It was colder than it had any right to be, a biting sort of cold that sank right to the bones and carried with it the unmistakable, thick scent of dust and decay. Everything felt heavy, untouched for decades, as if a single breath might disturb the dust hanging in the air.

"So uh..." Shoko whispered, reaching for her flashlight in her bag, "What was the haunting caused by in that game?"

"Oh, well they used to do a strangling ritual here," Sarah explained, walking up to look at a wall scroll that nature was melting slowly, "It was to keep the darkness trapped in this big spooky well."

"The malic I think it was called," Suguru added, then sighed, "And all of the ghosts had died to the curse, didn't they?"

"Not a curse!" Sarah said, pointing at him, "Ghosts! It was ghosts that got them and made more ghosts!"

"Right," Satoru grunted as he squatted down to pull more flashlights out of his bag, "So let's play along, right? We can play like the game and take a bunch of weird photos!"

"Did you bring a camera?" Sarah asked.

"Phone?" Satoru said sheepishly.

"That's not the same," Sarah sighed, "It was specifically the Camera Obscura that could catch the ghosts." Then she suddenly froze, gripping Suguru's sleeve, "Oh! We could just try to find it right?! Maybe it's just in here!"

"It's not gonna be exactly like the game," Satoru scoffed, "You shouldn't get your hopes up."

"Watch this though..." She said, walking down the hallway. She called back, "If I'm right then... The camera should be..."

She screamed as the shadowy figure of a man passed in front of her. She would have fallen back on her ass if Suguru and Satoru hadn't rushed up behind her, ready to fight.

"What?!" Satoru looked left and right down the corridor, "What was it?!"

"It was a ghost!" She stammered, "One of the people killed by the darkness!"

"Oh my god," Satoru groaned, "No it wasn't, shut up."

"It was!!" She insisted, staggering to her feet, "I swear it was!"

"So where's the camera then?" Shoko asked, looking down the hall.

Sarah pushed a broken screen aside and practically threw herself back pointing at the camera on the ground. Satoru and Suguru both narrowed their eyes, rushing over to squat down and look at it. "There's no way..." Suguru muttered, reaching out to take it. Satoru stopped him, then grinned.

"Nah, wait, let's play along," Satoru said, looking over his shoulder to Sarah, "Right?!"

"Yes!" Sarah scrambled over, picking up the camera, "Absolutely yes! Let's go! Right now!"

"Do you two remember the story?" Suguru asked, "I don't know if I do after so long."

"I... Don't." Satoru admitted, watching Sarah fiddle with the camera, "I think the character was a girl who lost her brother, right? He was researching the haunting here or something?"

"Yeah," Sarah nodded when she looked up from the camera, "And then he got killed by the ghost in the fireplace room and his sister came to check on him."

"So let me just make sure I heard that right," Shoko sighed, "We need to take pictures of the ghosts to exorcise them? Is that how this game works?"

"Yeah! The camera steals their souls and stuff and--"

"Okay," Shoko cut her off, "Alright, fine. Let's just go get this over with."

"Oh?" Satoru grinned, leaning with his arm on Shoko's shoulder, "You scared?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, but I don't really think this is the best place for Sarah and I. These ghosts are dangerous--"

"Curses," Satoru corrected her and she huffed before he continued, "And you have Suguru and I here! There's nothing to be afraid of!"

"Of course," Suguru agreed, "Nothing will happen to either of you."

"But what if we get separated?" Shoko asked, "That kind of thing always happens in these kinds of games."

"Pfft," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, "Don't be ridiculous. How could we get separated? It's just one building, we can't get lost in such a small place."

The manor had a way of pulling them apart, as if its very walls shifted to separate the four friends. Shoko and Sarah ended up on the far side of the house, where they stumbled into a dilapidated kitchen. A low, flickering light barely illuminated the room through grimy windows, casting shadows that seemed to twist and move on their own. The air was thick with the sour smell of mildew and something metallic—rust, perhaps, or the faint stain of old blood long dried. Every surface was coated with a thin layer of dust, untouched but for the occasional smear where something unseen had disturbed it.

Shoko moved carefully, eyes narrowing as she scanned the dark corners. "We should have brought something sharp," she muttered, annoyance crossing her face as she dug through drawers filled with cracked wooden spoons and broken bits of porcelain. A glint of metal caught her eye, and she pulled out a tarnished butcher knife, testing its weight in her hand. "Better than nothing, I guess."

Sarah kept her distance, glancing around nervously. “Anything about this place actually seem like it belongs in a kitchen?” she asked, eyeing the blackened stove and mold-ridden walls.

Shoko shrugged, her attention still on the drawers. "It’s probably been cursed for so long, it doesn’t know what it is anymore."

Meanwhile, Suguru wandered down a series of narrow, winding corridors, the wood creaking beneath his every step. Here, the walls seemed to close in tighter, bending and warping in places, as if they were alive and breathing around him. A faint, translucent figure flitted past, its face half-formed, looking as though it might disappear entirely if Suguru blinked too hard.

He chuckled softly to himself. "So, are you all separate spirits, or is this one big curse controlling everything?" he wondered aloud, as if expecting the house to answer. It was hard to tell in such a place, where curses lingered in every shadow, in every draft of cold air that seemed to sweep through the hall with a sigh. He felt a pull toward each apparition he passed, his curiosity ignited as he tried to sense if they were fragments of one larger entity or isolated curses.

Above them all, Satoru found himself standing alone in the cramped, cobweb-strewn attic. He'd somehow managed to hold onto the Camera Obscura. Now, if he could only figure out how to get the damn film in they could actually play the game

"Stupid thing," he muttered under his breath, squinting at the camera and attempting to load the film. His fingers fumbled with the film reel, the stubborn old device refusing to cooperate. He sighed, pressing harder than necessary, frustration building.

Behind him, a faint, icy whisper filled the air, the sound of creaking footsteps creeping closer. The temperature plummeted, and a ghastly, translucent figure loomed behind him, stretching a pale hand forward.

Without even glancing up, Satoru lifted one hand, releasing a sharp pulse of cursed energy that hit the ghost with a force that disintegrated it instantly. He went right back to struggling with the film, muttering, "Stupid old thing. Why is it always the oldest shit?"

Shoko and Sarah moved cautiously down the wooden hall, which felt endless, lined with crumbling walls blackened by age and water damage. Most of the paper screens had melted away, leaving jagged edges flapping in the occasional gust of cold air that seeped through cracks. It was as though the entire manor had been left to rot, assaulted by wind and rain until only the skeleton of its former grandeur remained. The air was thick and damp, and the boards creaked beneath their steps, echoing like whispers in the emptiness around them.

Sarah glanced at the ruined screens and recognized bits and pieces of the layout, but the decay made the space seem foreign and wrong. The house she remembered had not felt so terrifying on the TV and the real life version wasn't as easy to navigate as she hoped. They peeked into each room, nudging open the doors that could still slide, finding each space abandoned and stripped bare, only scraps of paper and tatami mats clinging to the floors.

Then, in a dark, shadowed corner of one room, something caught their eye—a small roll of film, resting atop a low table covered in a thick layer of dust. They both reached for it, excited by the unexpected find.

But before their hands could touch the film, a soft hissing rose from the floorboards. The shadows twisted and coalesced, rising up in a mass that took shape—a ghost with shriveled, hollow eyes and an agonized expression, its mouth frozen in a perpetual choke. It crawled upward, its skeletal hands stretching toward them, a hoarse wheeze escaping its lips as if it had been denied breath for centuries.

Shoko and Sarah screamed, stumbling back. Their voices carried through the empty halls, echoing in the dark spaces of the manor.

In an instant, both Satoru and Suguru heard them from their separate locations. Suguru took off at a sprint, his footsteps pounding through the halls, dodging splintered beams and ducking under fallen rafters. But Satoru opted for the most direct route. He blasted through the floorboards, one level down, then another, smashing his way through rotting wood and debris until he crashed into the room, scattering dust and splinters everywhere.

He raised his hand, a glint of cursed energy forming, ready to obliterate the spirit—but before he could release it, Sarah snatched the Camera Obscura from his grip. Her hands shook, but she moved quick, finally managing to load the film with one swift click.

She raised the camera, aimed it at the ghost, and pressed the shutter.

The camera’s flash went off, the room illuminated in a harsh burst of light. The ghost let out a bone-chilling shriek as it reared back, its form wavering and dissolving, until finally it disintegrated into nothing. The room returned to silence, the faint odor of charred wood and decay lingering in the air.

Satoru stared at the empty space where the ghost had been, wide-eyed, then glanced down at the Camera Obscura in Sarah's hands. Shoko, equally stunned, glanced between Sarah and the camera.

"Did that… actually work?" Shoko breathed, disbelief etched on her face.

Satoru blinked, then broke into a wide grin. "Guess we have a new ghostbuster on the team," he teased, nudging Sarah with his elbow.

Sarah, catching her breath, managed a shaky grin. "I knew it. We got this in the bag now!"

Suguru arrived just moments after the spirit vanished, skidding to a halt and glancing around the dust-laden room. Before he could ask, Sarah spun toward him, beaming as she held up the camera. "Geto! It worked!" she announced, almost bouncing on her heels.

Suguru chuckled, patting her head gently as she grinned up at him. "Nice job. That's really exciting," he said, warmth in his eyes.

Sarah and Shoko, energized by their victory, wandered over to the table littered with dusty rolls of film, muttering to each other excitedly as they examined their findings. Suguru took a moment to lean closer to Satoru, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “So,” he started, keeping his voice low, “any thoughts on what we’re actually dealing with here?”

Satoru gave a casual shrug, crossing his arms as he looked around the dark, decaying room. “From what I can see, it’s one curse," he said thoughtfully, "not multiple spirits or entities. But here’s what’s weird.” He leaned closer to Suguru, eyes glinting with intrigue. "When Sarah took that picture, it felt like the cursed energy didn’t just disappear—it dissolved. Like, I don’t know… cotton candy in water.”

Suguru smirked at the comparison, unable to suppress a chuckle. "Cotton candy, huh?”

“Hey, just telling it how I see it,” Satoru grinned. “But yeah, if that’s how it’s reacting to the camera, it should work to exorcise the curse completely. It’s like the energy is unraveling at the core. But,” he added, his tone a bit more serious, “if they actually end up in trouble, we’ll need to step in fast. The curse won't go down without a fight.”

Suguru nodded, the lightness in his gaze hardening with resolve. “Agreed. Let’s keep an eye on them, then—”

He cut off, turning back to where the girls had been standing, only to find empty space. He blinked, exasperated but amused. “Well, damn.”

Satoru snorted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Typical.”

Shoko realized they’d somehow ended up alone again, standing in what used to be a bedroom but now looked more like a crumbling nightmare. Shadows crept along the walls, and what remained of the tatami flooring creaked beneath their weight. Shoko let out a quiet sigh, muttering under her breath as she pulled out her knife, infusing it with cursed energy. The blade took on a faint glow, casting ghostly light in the dark room. She glanced at Sarah, who clutched the camera tightly, her fingers trembling slightly.

"Keep that camera ready, okay?" Shoko said, nudging her with a reassuring smile.

“Got it!” Sarah said, trying to sound steady, though Shoko could see her knuckles whitening around the camera. They made their way into the hall, stepping carefully around cracked wood and holes in the floor. Every so often, a faint figure would flicker into view—a blurry, shadowed ghost moving towards them. Each time, Sarah snapped a picture, and the figures dissipated with a faint wail, leaving only a heavy chill in the air. None of the ghosts seemed particularly aggressive, but Sarah’s excitement was palpable.

“So…where are we going, exactly?” Shoko asked, keeping her voice low.

“Well,” Sarah said, her eyes gleaming, “in the game, the first boss was this editor—used to work for some kind of paranormal magazine or something. His ghost haunts this house because he died from the curse.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “And how are we supposed to find him?”

“Uh, clues,” Sarah said, her voice trailing off as she scratched the back of her head. “You know…find the clues and follow them…”

“Right,” Shoko drawled, smirking, “You remember where they are?”

Sarah’s sheepish laugh was all the answer she needed.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the mansion, Suguru and Satoru moved through the dark halls with little care. Shadows slipped around them, but they barely gave them a glance, dismissing each cursed spirit with a flick of their cursed energy. If anything, they looked bored, like they were on a leisurely stroll rather than inside a haunted house.

Suguru suddenly narrowed his eyes as he was mulling over the recent events. He stopped in his tracks and looked at Satoru. "If... The Camera Obscura is just part of the curse then how is it actually able to exorcise the curses?" He asked.

Satoru, who was a few steps ahead scoping out a ruined dining room, turned to him. He looked ready to answer before his brows furrowed and he said, "Y'know I hadn't thought of that. If anything the curses should just be recycling in on themselves."

"You mentioned before that she had a strange second energy, right?" Suguru asked, crossing his arms and putting one hand to his chin.

"Yeah," Satoru nodded, pushing at a broken screen with the toe of his shoes, "Think maybe that's what it is?"

"Well," Suguru tapped his chin, "It's definitely a possibility. Especially with what Yaga told us."

"Oh yeah, what did he say anyway?" Satoru asked, shoving the rest of the door aside.

"He said he'd allow her to go only if we could ensure her safety, which naturally we can, and we have her exorcise at least one curse," he explained, "I wonder if he wanted to see if her power works differently than ours?"

"Well, clearly it does," Satoru said, "Since it still can exorcise a curse using its own cursed energy. Maybe her stuff just blends in?"

"Oh, that could be," Suguru said, blasting a ghost apart as it tried to leap at him from inside the room.

"If I were to call it anything, I'd say it's like the opposite of cursed energy," Satoru explained, "Like... Divine energy, I guess? Hard to say since I've never seen anything like that."

"Divine energy would probably fit the bill," Suguru agreed, "Since it can resurrect and repels cursed energy but also draw curses in."

"It's weird though, right?" Satoru asked, crossing his arms, "Why haven't we seen it before? Never, even going to other countries have I seen it before. What's different about her?"

Suguru smiled, "Well, I suppose it's something to do with her bloodline. We could research it?"

"I tried," Satoru sighed, "The oldies blocked me from every angle. I guess I could call in the family to do it, but I don't really want them to know I know about her."

"It might be necessary, unfortunately," Suguru said, "Because it's not likely they'll let us find out more than we've already figured out. Yaga has already put himself at risk by telling us anything at all."

"Well, he'll be fine," Satoru shrugged, "We just won't let them threaten him. The geezers can't stop us." He smiled, then added, "Alright, I'll hit up gramps when we get this done. Let's see what he'll spill."

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as Sarah and Shoko bolted down it, their breathing ragged as they jumped over splintered wood and ducked under fallen beams. Dust and rot filled the air, thickening with each frantic step as the heavy footsteps of the ghost followed close behind. It was the spirit of a young woman, her modern clothes a stark contrast to the decrepit mansion. Her skin was marred with rope burns, deep and bruised, and her pale face contorted in anger. She was faster than any of the ghosts they’d seen before, and her hands reached out, long fingers curling as if to snatch them.

“Can’t… you just… stab it?” Sarah gasped, struggling with the camera’s film as she stumbled alongside Shoko.

“Not this one!” Shoko replied, not slowing her pace. “It’s too strong—just get the film in!”

Sarah fumbled with the camera, trying to load the film, her hands trembling as she struggled to fit it into the slot. “Come on, come on!” she muttered, wincing as the camera’s metal edge bit into her finger. She stifled a curse as blood welled up and dripped onto the film. Her frustration turned to determination, and with a final push, she finally slid the film into place.

“Got it!” she exclaimed, whipping around, but in her haste, she stumbled back into Shoko, who grabbed her shoulders, steadying them both as the spirit bore down on them.

Sarah lifted the camera, hands shaking, and with a hard click, the flash erupted into a golden blaze. The light filled the hallway, illuminating the ghost's face in an almost surreal glow. For a split second, her eyes softened, the fury and anguish replaced by a fleeting calm. In that one instant, her expression looked almost… at peace. The image was brief, a single heartbeat, before she vanished in a swirl of light and cold air.

Shoko stared, her eyes wide, breathing heavily as the afterimage lingered in her vision. “Did… did you see that?” she whispered, stunned.

Sarah nodded, her grip tightening on the camera as she tried to catch her breath. “Yeah… she looked almost…” She trailed off, too rattled to find the words.

Far across the mansion, both Suguru and Satoru felt the powerful shift in cursed energy—a flicker of something heavy, then lighter, as if the curse had dispersed. Without a word, they exchanged a look of understanding and immediately set off, weaving through halls and stairways as they made their way toward the girls.

Satoru moved quickly, his grin vanishing as he sped up, cutting through obstacles with swift blasts of cursed energy, his eyes sharper than usual. Suguru, meanwhile, kept his cursed spirits at the ready, his footsteps quiet but purposeful as he wound through the mansion.

When they finally found the girls again, Shoko and Sarah were still sitting on the ground catching their breath. Satoru sauntered over, leaning on the wall looking smug.

"So, how's the photo taking going?" He asked.

"Cut the crap," Shoko huffed, "You felt that right? That bright light? Was that her?" She pointed at Sarah who blinked and looked between the two of them.

"Yeah," Satoru nodded, "That's what I was talking about."

"It's so... Soft," Shoko said, looking at Sarah and tilting her head, "The curse seemed happy before it was erased."

Now that was new. Satoru furrowed his brow. "Happy? Like when you unravel a curse rather than exorcise it?"

Shoko nodded, "Yeah, exactly. It was super weird!"

"Huh?" Sarah stood up, "That's not how it's supposed to go?"

"No," Satoru said, "Is that the first time you've seen a curse exorcised?"

Sarah looked down at the floor, considering how to answer that. Satoru waited, but after a moment he saw that panic creep into her expression. She did see it happen before, she must have. She only got confused about her past when something was being covered up.

"Here," Satoru shook her shoulder, getting her mind back on him, "Let me show you how it's done."

She blinked away her confusion and smiled at him. "Oh yeah? Is this a special lesson from my senpai or are you just showing off?" She teased.

He pulled down his sunglasses and winked at her with a winning smile, "Can't it be both, baby?"

She playfully shoved him, then held out the camera, "You can sense them with this too if you need to."

"Pff," he took off his sunglasses completely and hung them off his shirt collar, "Nah, I've got special eyes remember?"

With his Six Eyes focused, Satoru quickly zeroed in on the manor’s curse—a dense, pulsing core of malevolent energy buried in the heart of the decayed building. His eyes narrowed as he mapped out the twisted network of cursed energy, sensing the curse’s hold on the whole structure, like roots tangling and suffocating an old tree.

Without a second thought, he appeared beside Shoko and Sarah, scooping them up under his arms with a cheerful, “Upsy daisy!” Sarah let out a startled yelp as he held her with one arm, Shoko on the other, their feet barely grazing the floor before he launched out of the mansion, skimming over the broken floorboards and leaping through the gaping front doorway in a flash.

“Suguru! Brace yourself!” he shouted as he touched down just outside. Without waiting, he raised his hand, two fingers pointed toward the manor as his cursed energy coiled and began to surge. Blue sparks crackled as an orb of condensed power formed near his fingertips, the energy practically singing with intensity. The air around them grew thick, buzzing with raw power.

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she glanced at the glowing blue orb only inches from her face. “Satoru, that’s a little close, don’t you think?” she stammered, feeling the pulse of cursed energy against her skin.

He glanced down at her, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

And with that, he released the orb. It shot forward in a blinding beam, tearing straight into the heart of the manor. The explosion was immediate, a deep, resonating blast that expanded outward with enough force to shatter the ancient wooden beams and send splinters into the air. Dust and debris erupted as the manor collapsed inward, swallowed by the swirling cursed energy that Satoru had unleashed.

A moment later, Suguru emerged from the debris, coughing as he climbed out from beneath a fallen beam, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and exasperation. “You could’ve given me a little more warning, you know!" He shouted.

“I did warn you,” Satoru shot back, crossing his arms with a look of mock innocence, “You just weren’t fast enough to get out.”

Suguru narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. “Fast enough? You gave me half a second!" He growled.

Their voices rose as they squabbled, Satoru’s tone lighthearted, while Suguru’s was more genuinely annoyed. But neither Shoko nor Sarah paid them much attention, both staring at the remains of the manor. The wooden beams and cursed energy dissolved together, releasing a cloudy, black mist into the air. The curse’s grip on the house dissipated like smoke in the wind, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.

As the mist faded, Shoko let out a quiet sigh, and Sarah grinned, still clutching the Camera Obscura as it slowly disintegrated in her hands. “Well,” she said, glancing over at Shoko, “that’s one way to exorcise a curse.”

Shoko chuckled, patting Sarah on the shoulder. “I’d say we’re done here.”

In the background, Satoru and Suguru were still bickering, their voices carrying across the clearing as the last traces of cursed energy faded, leaving nothing but a memory of the old, haunted manor.

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[mercuriallily]

The saddest thing about one of my favourite games being a relatively obscure JRPG from 2016 is that I have no one to talk to about it :(

[cementcornfield]

this fucking dude.

[memento-morri-writes]

More dnd writing because it's all I have but I here's a snippet from a vignette I did of Rook's past (from Zara's POV), because Rook and his mentors never fails to make me sick (/pos).

[transcript under the cut]

Taking a coin out of her pocket, she rolled it across her knuckles, back and forth. It gave her hands something to do, and prevented the urge to bite her nails, something she hadn’t done in years. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Zara began to pace as Rook’s breathing grew shakier and the color drained from his skin. Where the hells is Jay? she wondered. The room was so quiet that she could hear every tick of the small clock on her bedside table, and each one echoed in her head. How many ticks does he have left? She didn’t want to think about it.  She’d had crew members die before, of course. You don’t go as many years as a captain as she had and never lose a soul. But all the others who had died had died quickly, in combat. She’d mourned for all of them, even shed tears in private, but there was something different about watching the life drain out of a person right in front of your eyes.

[madd-nix]

if i go to jail for strangling my brother, just know he tried to kill me first by bringing over his girlfriend 's cat all the time, knowing i'm allergic

[astrxealis]

making myself suffer looking thru ffxiv stuff on tumblr when i could be playing ffxiv rn but i eternally love and miss ffxiv

[kakusu-shipping]

PLEASE PLAY THE RABBIDS GAME ITS SO GOOOD

I WANT TO I WANT TO I WANT TO SO BADLY

I am however a broke ass bitch all the time and cannot afford two 60 dollar games even at the best of times atm

It looks really cool, the models are surprisingly pretty and the animation looks really good, I'm not sure I'd be good at the gameplay but they look nice and I'd LOVE to try them some time

I don't mind story spoilers (does it have a deep story? dunno) so feel free to come talk at me about it some time!!

[realboutfatalfury]

finally got back to playing zero escape

[peridots-pixiwolf]

yknow I play a lot of hard games but usually not "took 73 days to beat" hard

[spaceratprodigy]

it's so wild to think that probably is the best thing that came out of that year for me too