#IT SIMULTANEOUSLY MADE IT FUNNIER AND WORSE AT THE SAME TIME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sourbat · 4 years ago

Text

A Discussion over Spoons

Characters: Toki Wartooth and Charles Offdensen

Words: 5470

Rating: T

Summary: After the events of Galatikon 2, the members of band are alive and in need of a place to offer them the care they need to heal. Charles is unconvinced that Magnus has what it takes to provide such a setting for Toki, and attempts to convince the latter with a discussion, using spoons.

Read it online on Ao3 (with added notes explaining spoon theory)

This is technically a Hammertooth! Magnus just isn’t a huge, active force in this one.

It was Salacia’s final curse that he bring down Dethklok with him, wiping each member off the face of the universe, reducing them to nothing, not even stardust. Though he failed in their literal destruction, the damage they received from saving the world assured Dethklok would never perform again, effectively “killing” the band, and dooming each member to a life of normalcy, and eventual obscurity. Before that though, there was the important question as to whom would be charged with looking after the injured heroes. There were ruptured vocal chords to consider, arms broken in several places, and crushed hands filled with splintered bones, and Mordhaus and its hospital had been burned to the ground. While most general hospitals were more than willing to accept a savior in their wing, the aftermath of their victory left most places understaffed and overwhelmed, and the injuries each man had received was nothing to scoff at. Bunching them together in one location was not possible.

Charles and the church immediately offered their support, and the band almost considered it, but then a call from the Explosions and Abigail had Nathan second-guessing, and Skwisgaar, despite being in far worse condition than the others, commented on wishing to go to regular hospital with a female staff.

They soon decided that all would go their separate ways for healing, taking refuge in whatever space they considered to be “home.” Nathan and Murderface would return to their respective families, and would visit the other whenever possible, to ensure the other’s sanity. Skwisgaar would go to whatever hospital was located within 15 miles of a sorority or a senior living community (he had no preference), and Charles would look after Pickles while simultaneously finding new ways to block the drummer’s mother from her insistent, passive-aggressive calls, demanding to know why her son didn’t think his family was “good enough” to look after him.

Toki didn’t have to think about where he would he go, because shortly after waking up from his coma he was told he’d always have a home if he needed one, and he’d never have to worry about paying rent or anything because he saved the world so it’s forever “on the house”–and then Toki groaned for more morphine–but even in his drugged-up haze he remembered Magnus going on and adding to a list of reasons why his place was always open to him. When Charles approached him, asking if he’d like to come along with him and Pickles, or maybe share a hospital room with Skwisgaar, Toki politely refused, instead slurring out Magnus’ address to his ex-manager, smiling at the fuzzy lights, the funny way Charles looked at him once he said it, and the even funnier way Charles pushed up his glasses, asking Toki if he was sure. Absolutely sure? Quite positive? Agreeable? And what about Nathan? Abigail? Murderface? Skwisgaar? Anyone else? Anyone in Norway he could rely on? Any friends? No, not Rockso, but someone else? Someone who can handle the stress?

Anyone, but Magnus?

---

Toki stared at the line of small, silver teaspoons laid out before him in the private office that had been set aside for this occasion. Across from him, Charles sat, hands cupped and covering a portion of his mouth as he glanced down at the same spoons, awaiting a specific command before making his move. Toki didn’t say it, but just knowing what Charles was going to do made him nervous, and he was hesitant to speak out of fear that their game would end sooner than later.

But he knew, no matter what, those eight spoons would vanish faster than he was prepared for.

“Well,” Charles sharply announced, eyes narrowing on Toki.

“Uhm, wells,” Toki replied, instinctually raising his right hand, only to writhe and lurch forward in his seat once the metal rods holding it together stabbed at his nerves with a complimentary reminder of their presence. Charles’s hand appeared in his peripheral, gently rubbing Toki’s side, distracting him from some of the pain that shot up and wracked his strained nerves and muscles with sharp contractions.

“Left hand,” Charles gently reminded Toki. “Don’t forget, you’re a lefty until further notice.”

“Keeps forgettin,” Toki complained.

“Feeling better?” Charles asked, expression unwavering as he observed Toki’s crushed hand. Even with the cast and added coverings, it was an unbecoming sight, and it seemed like no amount of prescription painkillers offered to any of the guitarists could completely rid of the pain they suffered. “I can get you something,” Charles said, knowing deep down the implications of such an empty promise.

Toki shook his left hand. “No, ams good.”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, then. That’s one,” Charles said, picking up a spoon and placing it aside as he settled back into his seat.

Toki blinked, mouth turning crookedly agape as he stared at the empty space where his eighth spoon once rested. “Buts I didn’t evens do anything,” he complained, raising his head up to Charles.

Charles sighed. “You’re in pain, Toki.”

Toki jerked in his seat. He winced, but wore that look that suggested a desire to kick something was there. Charles could tell a tantrum might be in order today, and kept that thought pinned high on the list of things he’d need to account for today. Medications. Moving things aside to make his home more wheelchair accessible. Toki having a fit.

“Yeah,” Toki angrily proclaimed, “buts you saids any actions I performs that affects Magnus–”

“And would your suffering not cause him to react?” Charles calmly interrupted, stopping Toki from raising his voice, possibly getting up from his seat too fast, or risking further injury. Charles waited for Toki’s shoulder to drop, and for him to sink back into the supportive cushion. “You saw me react. You claim to know Magnus better than I do, so I’ll let you decide whether you in pain would affect him in any negative manner?”

It would. Charles’ knew Magnus reacted to violence and suffering differently than others, regarding it with a unique peculiarity that Toki couldn’t relate to. It wasn’t that Toki lacked an understanding of the trauma. He did. In fact, based upon his own observations, Charles believed that Toki and Magnus, despite their unique ways of mishandling years of abuse or abandonment, shared enough similarities that realistically meant Toki suffered from the same, if not related, illnesses that Magnus did. Charles was almost willing to bet their trauma came from the same source, but never bothered looking too deep into Magnus’ past to determine if this was true. Charles took pride in understanding the boys better than themselves, and although Magnus was never one of his, he always kept a watchful eye on him ever since the kidnapping. He was that single anomaly, but also a gear in the clock that Charles was forced to acknowledge as being part of a greater plan, but never one who warranted the same respect or care as Toki. Even after completing his role, playing the song that woke Toki and summoned the remaining members from space, to the ocean, Charles could not allot Magnus the same trust he had with the other members of the prophecy.

And he did not trust Magnus with Toki.

Meanwhile, Toki fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. His arm still smarted, and the back of his head still throbbed whenever the pains from the rest of his body added up too much. He didn’t get how so much body pain could make his brain hurt, only that it did. It was painfully, agonizingly unfair. Like this game.

How was he supposed to know any little thing would mean losing a spoon? Charles said he would only take away the spoons if it mattered a lot. Toki sniffed, sucking up the last bits of the hot, searing tingle that consumed his right side as he counted the remaining seven, and tried to think of a way to earn his eighth spoon back. Surely a little pain wasn’t enough to get Magnus upset? Toki remembered being in similar, albeit more emotional, pain in front of Magnus, and in those times, Magnus he’d out strong. True, they were during a darker, grim part of their shared lives, and Magnus was the one dishing the pain, but it was– it was …not going to work.

And as Toki came to this conclusion, he saw what would realistically happen. If Magnus was willing to argue, fight and threaten doctors for moving him too much, almost getting kicked out of the hospital and put on a “no returns'' list because he couldn’t stand the way they were treating him, and complained about long waits for test results and nurses who didn’t offer up enough codeine, morphine, water, time and empathy, then Magnus would definitely react once he was put in charge of his well being.

If anything, Charles had been kind to only remove one spoon. Toki wondered if Charles knew this, but was only keeping quiet so that the game would last longer.

“Fines,” Toki said with a hushed voice, pouting in dismay at how quickly things were turning against him. “Stupids game.”

“Not a game,” Charles reminded for the umpteenth time. “Again, this isn’t a game Toki, but a reflection of how Magnus’ mind works when off medication.” He saw Toki turn, already prepared to formulate his next argument, then promptly added, albeit callously, “and when faced with high amounts of stress.”

Toki tended to forget the minor details. Charles blamed a short attention span. Everyone in the band suffered from it, but Toki was up there with Murderface when it came to handling important information. To put it simply: if Toki didn’t care about the conversation just seconds prior to the information being let out, then he simply never absorbed it. Toki seemed to understand that Magnus required extra attention and monitoring because he was such a “special case,” but always seemed to forget just how permanent this situation was.

As cruel as it was, Charles needed Toki to understand this now, and in such a way he could easily comprehend. Before, Toki visited Magnus only a few days in a given month, and that number decreased the closer they got to the final hour. As training increased, klokateers revolted, and chaos ensued, those days together went up and down, and in every other direction, but never lasted much longer than a week. Now Toki was requesting to move in, stay with Magnus as a permanent roommate. Toki viewed it as the next big step in healing and quite possibly their relationship, but Charles saw the reality.

They were two glass cannons aimed at one another, each with fuses at various lengths already lit, waiting for that one trigger to set the other off, shattering both in the process.

“Magnus ams less stressed when we talks,” Toki responded, which threw Charles off-guard. He expected a line about medication, about long-term commitment and sobriety. He was prepared for Toki to tell him he wasn’t afraid of Magnus when he blew up, or that he could fend for himself should such an event arise.

For some reason, he didn’t account for communication.

“Very well,” Charles said, settling into a slow blink and navigating a new course through their conversation. “But consider that not all conversations will end with Magnus or you feeling any better. If anything, a conversation may result in additional loss of spoons.”

“That makes no senses?” Toki half-accused, partly questioned.

“Well, what if you insist you’re alright, but he thinks otherwise? Or, what if you tell him he’s doing a good job, but he doesn’t feel that way?” Charles asked, watching Toki squirm. Reading Toki’s mind was easy. Toki made it so easy. Once he showed a moment of weakness, or built a strong sense of trust, anyone with the right mind and wrong set of goals could get Toki to expose just about anything. It was another reason he couldn’t risk Toki leaving his care. Even if Toki claimed Magnus was currently at his best, all Charles could think of was the time Magnus was at his lowest and most desperate. He’d seen the damage Magnus laid out: the bruises, the corneal abrasion, emaciated form, atrophied muscles, and the poorly sewn and infected stab wound. It was a damn shame that Toki forgave it all away, sickening that Toki rekindled a friendship, only to then build something deeper between the two of them. It was a silent act of betrayal Charles never could have predicted, and even now, blamed himself for not being there to protect Toki. No, there wasn’t a single cell in his body that believed Pickles when he claimed Toki “started it,” Murderface when he declared “Magnus ain’t too bad these days,” or Nathan when word got out that “Toki’s definitely the lead,” and finally Skwisgaar’s sad attempt of an excuse when he said, “Toki cans just kills Magnus if he reallies wanted tos.” The boys were all under the impression this was all Toki’s doing, that Toki was in control, but Charles knew it was Magnus. Toki was simply too ignorant, out of control for his own good. Somehow, Magnus manipulated the situation, and he would continue to do so if he let Toki deeper into his life.

“Okays, but if Toki ams really, really honests with hims?” Toki suggested with a childish demeanor. “Maybes if he knows Toki ams in pain, but will be okays in a few minutes, he won’t gets so stressed outs?”

“Be prepared to lose a spoon,” Charles answered plainly, ignoring Toki’s miserable expression when he gave a stiff, hurtful nod as a response.

Charles pointed at the row of spoons. Frowning, Toki picked one up and offered it to Charles without looking in his direction. Despite the quiet act of defiance, Charles could make out the outlines of a frown, and a man who foolishly considered this all one big game that he desperately wanted to win.

“Tell me more about your day,” Charles began, watching Toki snap and return to the six remaining spoons resting on the table. He could see the stress already beginning to add up as Toki counted his dwindling spoons, slowly but surely realizing that Magnus couldn’t possibly look after him without either falling into a depressive state, breaking into a manic state of blind fury, or just completely shutting down.

Surely.

“I wakes up,” Toki begins, eyes darting up and cautiously waiting for approval. He waited, almost wondering if Charles was thinking up a way to steal another spoon, but he didn’t. Charles raised two fingers, then gave a small wave to let Toki know he was safe. A bit relieved, Toki continued. “I leaves the bed and puts on clothes.”

“You still need help dressing, correct?” Charles asked him.

“Yeps,” Toki replied, only to then realize the error in his honest reply.

“That’s another spoon.”

“Reallies?” Toki asked, voice hiking up and turning into a high-pitched whine once Charles took the third spoon from the line. Toki threw his good hand on the edge of the table. “Ams just clothes?” he loudly exclaimed.

“Continue with your day, Toki.”

“I eats breakfasts on my owns,” Toki replied with a nasty drop in his voice. “And I don’t needs helps getting’ ups or sittin’ downs, either.”

“What about the bathroom?”

“Charles, that ims privates.” Toki remained firm in his position, allowing the silence between them to stretch for some time before it became too awkward and overwhelming for him. “Fine, Toki needs helps with showers and toilets.”

Charles pointed at a spoon. Toki groaned, throwing his head back before taking a spoon with his left hand and carelessly tossing it at Charles. Charles made a remark about it, but Toki continued staring up in anger. Something in his stomach turned as he tried to figure a day and the number of trips to the bathroom he’d have to take. It was so stupid and so stressful, and it barely made any sense because Toki could do most of it on his own; he just needed helped taking off his clothes, or undoing the button on his pants. But this stupid hand of his! It just wasn’t fair that meant a whole spoon…

“Alright,” Charles said, rubbing his chin after encountering the tossed spoon. “We’ve concluded our morning rituals. With four spoons left, too.”

“Goings to keep playing until Toki loses all spoons?” Toki asked sarcastically.

“Not if you understand why I’m making you go through this,” Charles replied fluidly.

Toki dropped his head, frowning at Charles. As if it wasn’t so obvious why this was happening to him. “Because you don’ts like Magnus,” Toki answered, watching the bottom of Charles’ eye twitch.

“Because he cannot take care of you for the long term,” Charles said, stressing the word.

Toki leered back. It wasn’t like he totally disagreed with Charles’ reply, but he knew better than to assume that was the only case. He wasn’t going to pretend everyone up and forgave Magnus. Not even after the hellfire. The escape. The song. Like everything else in Toki’s life, some things just didn’t work out that way. But he at least had everyone’s support to give this whole thing a short. Everyone except Charles. Toki’s glare weakened as he continued to stare at Charles, wishing that the man would just believe in him.

“Toki, you just survived an impossible event,” Charles said, unblinking. “You and Skwisgaar will never be the same again, physically or mentally. You need months of rest, therapy, and other things that we won’t be able to account for until they start showing up.”

Blah, blah, blah. Toki glanced at the spoons. He only had four left, and there was still so much to be had. The game seemed rigged against him, but Toki figured there had to be a way to win. Some rule that Charles left out, either by accident or on purpose. Or maybe it was a riddle, and he was too hung up on the only rule presented?

“Charles?”

“Yes, Toki?” Charles replied.

Toki bit his inner cheek, a bit nervous to ask. He had no clue if Charles would answer honestly, or continue stealing spoons every time he did or said the wrong thing. “Magnus can gets spoons, rights?” he asked hesitantly.

“Well, in theory he can recover them,” Charles admitted, withholding another twitch of the eye once Toki’s eyes lit up with some hope, “mainly through rest, though hypothetically he can regain a spoon throughout the day if he has the right support system.”

Charles regretted the honesty, because as soon as he finished, Toki started to ponder. He didn’t have to guess the next question that he’d ask, and already papered his next line of attack.

“If I tells him I loves him even if he’s stressed, will he gets a spoon back?” Toki asked, anxiety now coupling oddly with gooey-eyed romantics. It was a strange, unsightly combination that made Charles nervous. “And sometimes I leaves him alones when he ams upsets about somethings. Does that counts as rests? Or whens Toki calls him funny names until he gets so happy his face gets all darks and lips all thins and scrambly?”

Charles watched Toki’s face continue to light up with ideas, then turn a bright shade of pink as he contemplated other options, ones Charles absolutely had no desire to humor.

“What if we…” Toki’s expression turned as conservative as it possibly could, “what if we rests togethers? Then we both gains spoons, rights?”

“Pardon?”

“Y’know,” Toki covered the bottom half of his face, looking somewhat embarrassed by the question. “When we…does se–”

“I’m referring to you gaining spoons,” Charles interrupted.

“Oh, yeahs,” Toki replied, dropping his hands and recovering too quickly for Charles’ liking. He practically jumped on the question. “Wells, you said Magnus cans gains spoons if he rests, so I thoughts that means I cans also gets the spoons, rights?”

“Toki, why do you need spoons?”

“To helps Magnus when he ams out of spoons,” Toki answered, pointing at the four remaining spoons on the table.

Charles dragged his thumb and finger up the bridge of his nose. “You can’t give him your spoons, Toki.”

“Yeah, buts you said rests and supports will helps him gets new spoons,” Toki aptly replied, voice returning to its more natural state, but lacking the tinge of anger or annoyance. No, now Toki sounded calmer, almost informed. “If Magnus ams going to run out spoons before lunches, then that means Toki needs spoons to take care of Magnus when he ams out of spoons, right?”

Charles’ lips parted as his jaw threatened to drop at the question.

“Toki takes care of Magnus when his spoons are low,” Toki said, face continuing to ease and confidence building as he declared his newly hatched plan. “just like befores, when Magnus only hads two or three spoons before he yells at Toki to leave. Backs in the hospitals, after he stabs himself.”

Charles frowned. This was not happening. Did Toki really think this was some game where he could simply reset the number of attempts he had before Magnus snapped? Hurt him, or himself, or others around him? Did Toki forget he was no longer a god, but a mortal capable of dying if left under the wrong care?

Did Toki take nothing from the lesson? Did he not grasp the gravity of this situation? This wasn’t a visit. This wasn’t a weekend sleepover. A romp that ended with Toki taking a jet back to Mordhaus. This was several months of wearing a cast, having rods hold torn ligaments and broken bones together in an attempt not to lose a hand. This was potentially being told, several months down the line, that his hand and arm would never function the same again. Eventually, Toki would have to accept the cruel reality that he’d never play guitar again. What then? This was not accounting all the mental and emotional trauma. There were night terrors, Toki ceasing all conversation and withdrawing from everyone, and him breaking out into uncontrollable sobs at random. There was Toki feeling perpetual guilt over Nathan losing his voice, and him vocally wishing he’d been a better companion to Murderface and beating himself over it. It was Toki trying and failing miserably to cheer up Pickles and Skwisgaar, who had used music as a powerful means of escape, and hating that no joke or picture or board game could really make up for the loss of ability to play and perform.

“So if Magnus needs rests, Toki will gives him rests and use my spoons,” Toki concluded, ignoring Charles’ darkening expression. He could see Charles didn’t like what he said, even with his lips forming a straight line. It was impressive Charles could do that, though it meant it was hard for Toki to tell what he was thinking. Toki guessed he thought he was crazy. Maybe Toki was, and he just wanted to be crazy with Magnus. But after learning he spent so much time in the afterlife, or somewhere in between, and in a coma and now trapped in a hospital, Toki was sure he’d rather be crazy and counting spoons with someone who honest-to-god wanted to hang out with him. Only Magnus made that offer. Charles did too, but Magnus made it when he was sick and barely conscious, and kept making even after being told Toki would need extra care. Magnus still wanted him to stay, as beat down and exhausted as he was, possessing nothing but the few things he snuck out with him during the fire, and whatever empty awards that were handed to him after he woke up. He was broke, could barely walk from his bedroom to Nathan’s without feeling winded or needing support, and he’d never be able to make music or support himself through music, or even play the guitar…but Magnus’s invitation was still there.

Toki smiled, raising his arm midway before wincing terribly against the pain. He lowered his right arm, feeling tears starting to form, though it was hard to tell whether it was more a result of him forgetting his right arm was filled with rods, or because he knew that, between them, there was enough silverware to make it through the day. Tears fell as he recounted the spoons on the table, four plus the dozen or so Toki was sure he had, despite the agonizing pain that trumped his senses, and he knew there had to be several more he wasn’t seeing, because if Magnus could still bring himself to show up to his hospital bed and, with a smile, remind him the offer was still there, than that had to count for at least an additional spoon or two?

“Use… your spoons?” Charles murmured, bottom lids raising as Toki provided an eager nod, pushing out a pleased smile through his reddened eyes. “You will use your spoons on him…and yourself. While in a cast. Reliant on round the care supervision? “

Beaming through tears, Toki answered: “Yeps. I waits for his numbers to be high agains and asks for his helps while my spoons fixes back.” He blinked, bringing his good hand up and wiping the few tears that fell down his still gaunt cheeks. “So…does that means we wins and can stays togethers?”

Charles lowered his face into clasped fingers. His eyes closed as he wrangled control of his deepening frustration. “…is that all you took form this conversation?” he asked, unsurprised when he caught Toki shaking his head, still appearing as controlled as he could, given his obvious discomfort.

“Nopes.”

Charles raised an unconvinced brow. “Well, then, what else did you learn from this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That this ams not a game,” Toki answered, bringing his hand to rub his upper, right arm. Charles reached out to help, but Toki pushed his seat back with his legs, scooting away. Charles almost took it as the official lead-in to an argument or tantrum, but Toki stood up and, bringing his good hand down, picked up the four remaining spoons. “If it ams game, then Toki loses by lunchtimes. But Toki never does. Because Magnus ams not a game; he ams a person who tries.”

“You’re correct,” Charles said, with caution. “But you need to–”

“I knows it won’ts work all the times,” Toki added, fighting to have his voice heard. “And I knows there will be days when we ams both reallies low.”

“So you’re aware then–”

“But we wills figures somethings out,” Toki pushed through, successfully stopping Charles a second time. “We ams always good at thats. Maybes Magnus cans…” Toki stopped, breaking into a short fit of mad blinks. Charles waited, watched in growing discomfort as Toki’s eyes started to rain silent tears. He bit his inner lip, blinking repeatedly, struggling to say something that had been building up in him. “If Magnus cans learns to take cares of himself, even whens he hates himself, then so cans Toki,” Toki finished, and Charles’ eyes began to widen once he registered the absolution in Toki’s voice, the brutal honesty and recognition of his own, sorry state that Charles wasn’t aware the young man truly comprehended. “And, maybe if Toki is luckies, Magnus can teaches To…c-can teaches me to b-be okays, with alls of this…”

Still holding the spoons, Toki gestured at himself, using the small teaspoons to point at his ruined arm, his wasted and ruined form. Stuttering, Toki shut his eyes, upset at what was left of him, what he was stuck with for the rest of his life. Charles’ shut his own eyes, unmoving as he listened to sniffs and the sounds of spoons hitting the floor. So, Toki knew. Charles wondered just how much. He was afraid to ask. He wasn’t used to being wrong. The fact that it was Toki who pulled it off only made it harder to accept.

But, when it came to it, there was little he could do to convince the man to stay behind with him. Charles could tell Toki things would be alright, but that wasn’t the case. Charles had enough training in therapy, physical education and possessed enough background in kinesiology, but a gut sensation told him he lacked the ability to help pull Toki from the brink of despair. Mayhap in a few months, once he dealt with Pickles, planning and preparation for the onslaught of trouble to arise, but right now? Viewing Toki now, not as an overly gullible and childish man, but someone who fully accepted that this was it….that this was his reward for saving the planet, changed something. Suddenly, Charles wondered if he did have what it takes to help Pickles, and guide the other boys back on the path of the living.

“Okay, Toki,” Charles said, shaking his sinking head into spreading palms. Shame swept and blanketed his core as he heard Toki make another loud sniff, and he wondered just far Toki had fallen since waking up, and how deep Magnus would be willing to go to find him, offer a light, and pull him out from such a dark abyss. “You win.”

---

Toki wasn’t the first to leave (that would be Nathan and his family), but he departed at the opportune moment. Magnus arrived early, right after breakfast, and had Toki wheeled out shortly after he loudly declared his arrival to the hospital staff. The staff was effective at packing up Toki’s things, and a nurse already had a stack of files for Magnus to sign off.

The scene earned a chuckle from Skwisgaar, who, despite his pains, thought it appropriate that Magnus’ off-putting behaviors would result in an easy ticket out the door. Murderface wished Toki well, and promised to see him soon. Pickles hardly reacted, only providing a weak smile before withdrawing back into his wheelchair. The silent parting only made Charles less confident in his position, and offered some silent respect towards Toki for helping him take a step back and gain a better view of the challenges to come.

He hurried on ahead, while Magnus ordered for a nurse to carry Toki’s things. Magnus would obviously be the one to wheel Toki out.

From a distance, Charles waited outside of the hospital, and he witnessed the scene. Magnus pushed Toki towards his car, and the only talking Charles picked up on was the accompanying nurse’s, giving out a series of “does and don’ts” before dropping off their luggage by their small, barely adequate ride. Charles had to admit, Magnus did well to listen and never interrupt. He guessed Toki must have said something, but didn't see his lips move once during the one-sided discussion. In fact, aside from a few shared words between bandmates, Charles wasn't sure he heard Toki speak at all to himself or anyone else.

He remained outside the hospital, well after Magnus noticed his presence, but continued to observe, noting how much livelier Magnus was in comparison to Toki, how he held that false smile so well and was so animated with his movements. It was like staring at another man. Maybe that was the point.

He saw Magnus open the passenger door, say something to Toki with a slightly concerned look, and Toki nodded his head slowly, looking so exhausted but trusting. Charles nearly left his post when Magnus bent down, arms carefully wrapping around Toki before scooping him up and earning only a slight complaint that could barely be detected where Charles stood. Upset, he watched Toki’s good arm wrap around Magnus as he brought the two of them up, legs not shaking but head leaning to bump and rest against Toki’s, soothing whatever pain that wasn’t voiced.

What is that? One, two, three?

For a second, Charles wondered. He thought about everything he knew, and humored the idea of him possibly being wrong about Magnus, whether it be one thing, or everything adding up to this moment. After all, the prophecy was vague, and the messages translated to him had been proven wrong once before.

Maybe this was for the best. Maybe this would work out.

Silent and ever observant, Charles watched with a swelling, pained heart, Toki being lifted and carefully placed into the car by the man who stood behind his very shadow, his kidnapper and composure of the dethsong, his savior and friend. Charles let out a long exhale as the engine started up, and left his position to go back inside and look after the remaining members as Toki was whisked away, leaving behind all of his and Magnus’ titles, and moving on with whatever the fates had in store for them next.

#fanfic #toki wartooth #charles foster offdensen #magnus hammersmith #dethklok #mlt #metalocalypse #fanfiction #unbeta'd #tw: depression

10 notes · View notes

elcrivain · 6 years ago

Note

Hi Ellis! I'm a literature student and I've been working on a school paper. I'm going to talk about Jane Austen on my paper. Sooo I wanna ask if what is a common factor that you’ve noticed in all six novels of Jane Austen? I will be waiting for your response!! Thank you so much

There are a few common factors across Austen’s novels:

1.) Bad parents - this one is in fact so common as to leave few good parents to write about.

Perhaps most famous is the silly Mrs. Bennet, who flusters and fidgets over her five girls, obsessing over marrying them and lending Pride and Prejudice its marvellous opening.

She is not alone. Whether it is:

Mr. Dashwood, failing to provide for Elinor, Marianne, and Margaret in Sense and Sensibility (or alternatively failing to foresee his son, John, will be so selfish)

Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram neglecting all of their children until it is too late for some in Mansfield Park

Mr. Woodhouse leaning too hard on Emma, fussy hypochondriac that he is, and expecting far too much from his daughters in Emma

General Tilney the warhorse and monstrously bad host in Northanger Abbey

Sir Walter spoiling Elizabeth, ignoring Mary, and sneering at Anne, in Persuasion; or

Mr. Bennet forgetting that having a silly wife is no excuse for not providing for and protecting his children in Pride and Prejudice

Austen stuffs her novels with bad parents.

2.) Hypocritical snobs - Austen loves to write about snobs, and loves far more to write about those with precarious positions in the social sphere.

Caroline Bingley is a great example of this, snubbing Jane’s relatives who are actually of higher social standing than her own grandparents’, but without the wealth of her father.

Mrs. Norris, the mere wife of a country parson, flouts her superiority over little Fanny. She is a distasteful fool.

Emma, ferociously proud of her own position, simultaneously raises Harriet Smith, a no one and likely illegitimate, and complains that the Coles do not invite her to their party when she would not be able to accept. Augusta Elton is worse still, not even realising that she is on rocky ground when she complains about the people who would set themselves above the Sucklings.

Willoughby is a hypocritical snob, not seeing that his own character is far lower than the “foolish” and “silly” people he mocks. Marianne gets the snob label, which she absolutely is, but not a hypocrite one.

3.) Scoundrels and bad boys - Every novel needs a villain and Austen’s rogues gallery is fairly complete:

P&P’s Wickham sets a high standard. He seduces, elopes, flirts, charms, and “makes love to us all.” Was there ever such a charming rotter?

Well of course, there’s Willoughby in S&S, seducing all of us before abandoning us pregnant with hope but, luckily, nothing else. He even shares the same W-initialed surname. While Wickham marries the girl he seduces. Willoughby leaves his teenage victim alone and pregnant, while he marries a young woman who is in for a bad time of it with him. Though her vicious nature possibly makes it a fair match.

Mr. Elliot in Persuasion is less obviously charming, and also less devastating. Poor Mrs Smith suffers through his inaction, but there are no pregnant teenagers in his wake. We also have him to thank for making Anne and Captain Wentworth aware of the other’s feelings, when he interrupts their tete a tete at the Assembly Rooms concert.

A more understandable villain lurks in Mansfield Park. Henry Crawford is a selfish child in a man’s body. He takes what he wants, and he pays for it in the end. Pretty, shy Fanny would have made him a better man. Instead, she gets to prig-happily-ever after with Edmund. Sigh.

Northanger Abbey has more than one scoundrel, but it’s John Thorpe who does the most damage, in his limited way. Though Captain Frederick Tilney wreaks havoc as well.

Emma is restricted to the least bad men, Mr. Elton doesn’t really get the title as he’s just a bit mean. Frank Churchill is a bad boy however, as he spends the whole novel deceiving everyone and treating his love badly. I would argue that there is a hidden scoundrel in Mr. Woodhouse though, who is so selfish that it’s a miracle he doesn’t cause more damage.

4.) Wise young women - Austen is littered with young women who are usually wiser than their elders, though it doesn’t always do them much good.

P&P’s Charlotte Collins nee Lucas, for all that she may not ever love her husband, has far more foresight than Lizzie, eight years her junior.

MP’s Fanny Price sees what none of her cousins can, that while play acting is dangerous, Lovers’ Vows can only end in disaster and that Mariah and Henry are playing a very dangerous game. She is a Cassandra. No one listens to her, but she still sees.

S&S’s Elinor Dashwood is smart enough to see through Lucy, but that can’t save her from her machinations. She is trapped by her own goodness, but she also has all the wisdom her kindly but foolish mother lacks.

NA’s Eleanor Tilney manages to glide above the craziness occurring around her without falling for the novels bad boys, getting caught up in the nuttiness of her best friend’s imagination, or marrying beneath her. Quite a feat.

Emma’s Jane Fairfax is perhaps the least wise of the women in this list, but she has the maturity that Emma and Harriet both lack. She knows she’s facing a harsh future as a governess, but retains her dignity no matter what, even when her lover is flirting with another woman in front of her.

Persuasion’s Anne Elliot has hard-won wisdom and is the oldest of our young women. She is wise now because she has had time to reflect and reason to regret. She sees through her father and sisters, never falls in love with the scoundrel of her novel, and wins herself an excellent marriage and social position by staying true to herself.

Note, as much as I like her, Lizzie Bennet does not have a great deal of wisdom, though she’s getting there by the end.

I can think of more, but they don’t hold true across all six books.

Lizzie, Anne, Catherine, Fanny and Elinor are all book lovers, but Emma can barely finish one, despite good intentions.

Many heroines have bitchy friends or mean girl relatives, but their position and power are inconsistent.

The heroes vary in attractiveness, affluence, and affability.

The fates of the heroines vary as well - we all envy Lizzie marrying Darcy, but few of us feel like Fanny won a similarly sized prize in Edmund.

So a few other things, more about the society than anything else, bind the books:

5.) Humour - They are all funny. How funny varies by how much you know what Austen is satirising for Northanger Abbey, playing with Lovers’ Vows in Mansfield Park, or realise about the characters in Pride and Prejudice, which is really much funnier if you think of Mr Collins as only twenty-four, rather than his usual casting in his thirties.

Austen is consistently one of the funniest writers of any novels ever. Her books are full of crackers.

6.) Social satire - We don’t always realise what she’s satirising now as we lack some of the context her readers had, but Austen is always out with her embroidery needle to prick social pretensions and foolishness.

7.) Happy endings - All of our heroines get happy endings with desirable men, most of whom are at least tolerably handsome and kind. We believe that all of them will live happily ever after.

8.) Genius - All of Austen’s novels showcase her genius to varying levels. Whether it is in the perfect retelling of Cinderella for the Regency era for Pride and Prejudice, the quiet and very gentle subversion of the classic passive heroine’s arc in Mansfield Park, Northanger Abbey’s clever gothic satire, a meditation on expectation vs reality in Sense and Sensibility, the depiction of a more mature, Sleeping Beauty love in Persuasion, or creating one of the most complex and difficult heroines in Emma, Austen lays down a gauntlet that no one has yet managed to pick up.

98 notes · View notes

lerrengwesten · 7 years ago

Text

Voices From Nowhere

Probably should have paced things better and not released this so quickly after the last chapter, but why not? It’s certainly a revealing section for those who somehow understand the ambiguities of it. And it was very fun to write as someone who knows everything :P

While not as bad as the first interlude, there are parts that can be quite dark and troubling, closer in tone to the second one. These voices come from multiple beings, some of which you will see many times, some of which you will never see. All will be left anonymous, as with all interlude sections.

Voices from nowhere

“There’s an angle of stone in a dip in the earth near where the green one resides. Those that touch it and the ground simultaneously are accepted as one of their siblings in design and worthy of leading. Those that lay with hanging feet are inferior, too delicate and gentle to be entrusted with such a task. Four others have touched the ground. Only three were accepted by them. The silver one was cast off as inferior by some other standard. It’s a strange method, but they claim we are the most loyal to the Dragon’s intentions. Maybe because we are most like the green one. Besides an additional horn and visual appearance, I am virtually a twin to them.”

“The only reason I touched the ground was because my Far Spirit wanted me that way. Easier to live with than shorter-legged creatures. Why exactly will never be revealed, as with many things amongst the spirits.”

“There’s something terrifying about living when you only control the body a fraction of the time, yet the other controller acts exactly like you. You can’t be frustrated by what they do. You can’t complain about it, because it’s what you would do. There’s nothing you can say to the controller about it besides to comment on how uncannily close it is to what you would do. They can’t say anything to you because they feel exactly the same. That’s what happens when your body technically died a few years ago, but a piece of it lives on in a near-identical one with an identical soul. I don’t know if it’s the best or worst fate I could have received. It’s wonderful to remain myself and be enlightened about my own behavior through watching that of the new me that usually controls it, but there’s something saddening about watching life blow by you while someone else does everything for you and you can’t experience it for yourself.”

“I was one of Dheroratera’s inner circle. Real close, you know? Probably because I’m one of the oldest floaters and we older Fsemacea tend to think alike. And then dumbass visiting spirits starting walking into the path of other floaters and Dheroratera flipped their shit over the deaths ruining our reputation. Damn near everyone for a time had a rumor that they’d done it, but fortunately they forgot about it after a while. Until mine came back up a few years ago when Dheroratera was testing me one spring. I was feeling a bit snippy that day and they were ripping me apart for it, in that creepy, calm way they always do. It’s an act, you know. In the old days, they were leagues ahead of every other creature around here and let everyone know that. Snappy as hell and more than happy to dish it out or take it, and that perpetual straight face only made it funnier. Slapped Espythacerro of all creatures upside the head when they mocked them for their size and goofy head shape. That was the preferred method of dealing with thing back then- just smack them if they insult you. Visitors thought it was hysterical, though the Far Spirits didn’t like it as much. Something changed in them after that incident with Myrise, though. Went from being this harsh, sassy badass to droning on about the Dragons’ orders and pleasing them and instituting all sorts of rules to makes sure it happens. A lot of us older guys still acted that way in private, but knowing how they could be and how much power they began to hold over younger Fsemacea, we didn’t dare do it anywhere conspicuous, since if they disliked you, they’d twist the rules to make you gone. They’d been buddying up to this young flying Fsemacea and I was questioning their loyalties then, especially as they seemed to grow impatient with me and hypercritical of my faults. The day of that test, they drilled me with the death rumors. I wasn’t sure what they were trying to accomplish at the time, but now I know they were doing it to get me to snap at them and break the rule of neutrality they had instituted. I grew frustrated as they kept blaming me and did as they secretly wanted. Which is why I now stand under the burning sun of the desert. The loneliness was horrible at first, but an old friend, one of the eternal standers, led me in the direction of the outcast colony. It’s a horrible feeling to see passing Fsemacea silently scorn me by ignoring me, unable to show their true emotions. To know I’ll never get to meet many of my other old friends again, including even the one who led me here. In a strange turn of events, she came back to the fold after a truly miraculous transformation. And knowing that the Dheroratera I was once so close to is virtually gone, sucked away by their relentless worship of the Dragons. Green and red things bring nothing but trouble wherever they go.”

“My creators, I have come to report and lament at how the young have forsaken you. Even at the early age of three springs, I was forced to denounce that young Floater. Her quivering and latent resentment were simply intolerable. Even worse was the crushing, graceless, grasp she took my hand in when I cast her off. But when such qualities appear in creatures at so young an age, there is nothing that can be done to change them, it is in their nature to be defiant and cruel. I know not what could be causing this growing phenomena, but know it is surely not your handiwork. At times I think back to what occurred years ago and shiver. As such outdated and vicious abominations are disposed of, perhaps their influence grows in the new souls formed from them. I fear that that is why these young ones have grown so cruel and restless, why their limbs quiver as they stand, their whole bodies bounce as they run, their heads vibrate as they grow agitated. But there is nothing I can do, I can only hope the spirits in charge of such things can find a solution and they submit to their will for the good of all. It’s disgusting and saddening to watch for me, and must be worse for you two, being the one who spawned these degenerate beings. I try to brush aside my feelings, but it is always disappointing to have to push out the corrupted ones, but it is necessary to avoid allowing such actions to spread to the pure and good.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, ground. I love you, Spirit of the Peninsula, I love you Dragons. I love you so much for what you have done to me.”

#lwwriting #lwchapters

2 notes · View notes

johannesviii · 8 years ago

Text

Eater of Wasps

Some highlights of the last EDA I’ve read (Eater of Wasps).

I took these screens while reading, along with my reactions. As usual, this is full of spoilers.

O-kay, so this cover is pretty gruesome, I wonder if this is a-

OH SHIT OH NO

Well, that was unexpectedly great.

The problems keep piling up in this story and the action never really stops. It’s pretty straightforward and I wish some characters were given a bit more to do, but the regulars are still well written. Eight hasn’t been this alien since The Burning (which makes sense since it’s the same kind of story, with a basic plot but written like a thriller), Fitz is his usual loyal self, even when he’s scared shitless by the events, and Anji has some of the most interesting moments.

It’s also a real page-turner, with some gloriously horrible body horror left and right and more than a few laughs among all the stress. Unlike the previous book, this one doesn’t really try to make a point, it has a very traditional structure (if you forget the ton of gore thrown at us), and it’s just a gripping adventure with no other goal in mind. Definitely refreshing. 8/10

Okay this is a Baxendale book, so... how long have we got before the body horror and/or the killing starts

THAT WAS LITERALLY THE FIRST LINE

The TARDIS sounds like “a rather poorly cow”, according to this lady.

I laughed out loudly

Get back in the police box, Fitz, you unshaven untrustworthy criminal

Still laughing but I hope this old bigot dies in this story tbh

This description of our current Eight is simultaneously delightful and sad.

Miss “Old-bat-on-a-bike” Havers sounds exactly like a certain person who’s currently running for president in my country and who I hope to see crash and burn in the near future with all my heart

How many racist bigots are there in Miss “I-speak-for-the-whole-village” Havers’ shoes exactly

WELP TIME FOR FUN HEADCANONS ABOUT DANY PINK’S FAMILY TREE

“MISS HAVERS APPEARED READY TO COLLAPSE UNDER THIS ONSLAUGHT OF FOREIGN-SOUNDING NAMES”

Nope. Nope.

Eight wants to drive a tractor.

Also wasn’t he travelling far away from England in the thirties? I recall he said something like that in The Turing Test.

I’m smiling through the sadness this is confusing

Eight geeking about vintage cars, everyone

I really like the Pink brothers so far, so I’m pretty sure at least one of them is going to suffer horribly in this story

Well that’s also what Lawrence Miles claims and his books are roughly 50% politics so I don’t know about this

Eh eh

Eight playing Paranoid on a piano is my new aesthetic

Also I wondered how it would sound like on a piano and holy shit look at this video this person is so talented, like, damn

I don’t know who Kala is but her haircut made me laugh

So Rigby’s possessed by the wasps in some way?

Anji saying “bloody” impresses Hilary Pink and I find this endearing, somehow

We know, Eight, we know

The descriptions of the TARDIS team are great in this book.

I love this scene??

“There was something wrong” = understatement of the month

This creeps me out way more than the wasps themselves, to be honest, because I don’t particularly hate them. I have no idea how painful a wasp sting is because I’ve never been attacked by any of them ever. Granted, I don’t like them, but still.

Wait a second, is the old bigot contaminated too now?

“PITY ABOUT THE PLUMS”

COULD YOU PRETEND TO BE SAD ABOUT THE DEAD GUY FOR TWO CONSECUTIVE SECONDS YOU WALNUT

Extremely relatable

Run away. Run. Away.

Anji no

Good description cut, like, 10/10 would cut again

Can I breathe now? Cause I’d really enjoy that

Apparently I can’t

OH NOT MY HEART HE KEPT THE LETTER FOR 90 YEARS

I’m laughing like an idiot, that never gets old

Still laughing by the way

Well you did ask

Always the best course of action

I love this scene so much oh my god

Well that’s completely different, then

Have I already told you I loved this new TARDIS team with all my heart

[Unexpected sadness]

1) Eight was a sailor during the thirties, why isn’t there a book about that

2) Is that a reference to Pertwee’s tattoo?

3) If Eight really has a tattoo, wouldn’t that be a first (Three’s tattoo was there for real life reasons so it doesn’t really count)?

4) A tattoo of what

5) Where

6) If he hasn’t one and that’s all a lie… is… is he flirting with Fitz

I have no words

My hair is standing on end on my arms I’m not even joking at all holy f█cking shit that’s so f█cking creepy

OH. THAT’S EASY THEN. JUST IGNORE THE HUMAN WASP HIVE STANDING ABSOLUTELY STILL IN COMPLETE DARKNESS WITH HIS MOUTH OPEN TWO METERS AWAY FROM YOU. JUST IGNORE HIM. BECAUSE THAT’S VERY EASY, RIGHT

This shouldn’t be that funny but I’m half laughing half cringing

This scene is terrifying and hilarious at the same time, which results in me cringing like there’s no tomorrow

F█CK I KNEW IT

Holy shit Doctor

Good job, Kala, 10/10

Don’t we all

Oh god please try to explain the context to the police, Eight, I really want you to explain how you arrived in a police box and how Wasp Man is menacing that village because somebody dropped an alien thingie there

Nevermind

Funnier in hindsight

Fitz Kreiner, prison cells connaisseur

Of course he wouldn’t, but that’s still concerning.

Wait Miss “Old-bat-on-a-bike” Havers isn’t dead yet? Is there no justice in the world? (don’t answer that)

“I’m not sure what he is”

Oh that's perfectly normal then

Hey isn’t that the cover of the book?

Eight this is an autopsy for crying out loud don’t act like it’s an unboxing video

Oh. Oh wait. Oh f█ck. Is this book “SCP-439, but with wasps and the victims are mobile"? Oh shit that’s suddenly ten times worse

KILL IT WITH FIRE

FOR THE LULZ For the Vine no idea

Okay book I like you very much but there’s only so many times I can say "nope" in this liveblog and I’m going to run out of nopes soon

EXTREMELY RELATABLE??

I know the feeling, Eight, but please try to focus

That’s… that’s not exactly what she meant, Fitz. I do adore the fact that you had prepared an answer to that question, though

Hehe of course he would offer mint humbugs instead of jelly babies just to troll everyone about the wasps thing – also I want one, I’ve never tasted one before

Oh no cute

[Takes references for future drawings]

Honestly I love this description

SCREAMING

THERE’S BEEN A LOT OF GREAT SCENES IN THIS BOOK ALREADY BUT THAT’S IN THE TOP THREE FOR SURE

Eight you nerd

...........of course you did

implying things aren’t messy already

"overtactile"

Also I still can’t get this out of my head, wasn’t she attacked earlier ?

Ignore me I’m just dying a little bit over there

10/10 would fraud again

This book is almost non-stop action AND funny AND scary and honestly it would be a top-grade perfect Doctor Who book if the writing was slightly better and if the plot was a bit more original

Eight this is a bad idea and you know it

Anji is channelling my exact reaction

Eight every time you end up fighting someone it doesn’t end well for you

That quote is wonderful, I’m gonna memorise it for future D&D games

“It always looks easier in the movies”

This f█cking dialogue oh my god

Or perhaps you could blast the fire extinguisher right in his face before he hurts anyone else, just an idea

“Mad? I’m absolutely furious"

Nobody No-One’s on the phone & he wants his quote back

That’s always been one of my favorite things with Eight, his tendency to take one look at trolley problems and be like "nah". People die accidentally all the time but most of the time he refuses to be the person who decides who lives and who dies. Of course it’s highly debatable, but that’s what makes it interesting in the first place.

"Hope this is not Chris's blood"

Friendly reminder that the Doctor can detect blood types

I don’t know why but that particular sentence makes me laugh, the mental picture is irresistible

Fitz is that guy who always gets killed in slasher movies

And Eight can finally drive a tractor eeeeeee

That’s it that’s the book

Still in love with the descriptions from Rigby’s point of view, by the way.

GREAT EXACTLY WHAT WE NEEDED

GREAT EXACTLY WHAT WE NEEDED 2: THE QUICKENING

Also a defining trait of Eight in all his stories: his refusal to give up. Which is why the beginning of Dark Eyes was so great. And also Ship in a Bottle, because sometimes people need to remind him there’s always hope.

And that’s also what makes Night of the Doctor so heartwrenching ; it’s the Doctor who “never ever gives up” finally giving up, for good.

1) Anji is still channelling my thoughts 2) Honestly I’m glad Rigby’s now an actual monster because the human hive thing standing motionless in complete darkness was infinitely more creepy to me

Still loving these descriptions so I’m still screening them.

The fact that there’s still a part of him which knows this is a f█cking nightmare is the cherry on top, actually.

ASDFGHJHGHJK I FUCKING KNEW IT

“AND TO THINK I HUGGED YOU”

That’s your only reaction?

Ummm sorry I know the situation is extremely tense but look at this sweet little moment?? Thank you

Wasp Man

DOCTOR YOU LITTLE SHIT

Damn that was brutal

I shouldn’t be laughing so hard

Great just what we needed

Why is this still so funny

Can I breathe now

I don’t know why this is so cute to me but it really is

Friendly reminder that I love Anji

Everyone’s safe and nothing hurts, goodbye

Honestly I don’t even know which part of this I prefer.

Maybe "what deadline?".

#Eighth Doctor Adventures #Eater of Wasps #Eighth Doctor #Fitz Kreiner #Anji Kapoor #doctor who #An EDA liveblog full of useless comments #long post #gif #caps lock #body horror tw #insects tw #gore tw

47 notes · View notes

minisoc · 8 years ago

Note

How can you claim to fight anti-Semitism while saying death to the homeland of Jews displaced by Nazism? A State that the ussr voted for and strongly stood by, the state with the largest Jewish population in the world? I disagree with them, but even I, a "filthy anticommunist grandson of a kulak saboteur" wouldnt stoop that low. You said the duty of communists is to stand by the actions of communist regimes no matter what. Or are Jews living their lives really worse than Assad? Your choice pal.

did you forget to click anon this time or are you growing a spine, kulak? I don't know which is funnier, your misunderstanding of my position (I've never said I must stand by every action the USSR took) or your misunderstanding of Soviet-israeli history. how could it be simultaneously true that the USSR created Palestine (a typical Zionist position), Stalin persecuted jews under the guise of fighting Zionism (a common anti communist position) AND that the Soviet Union "strongly stood by" Israel?

somethings gotta give, preferably you would begin by getting an education before you type shit into my inbox. the USSR made a mistake when they hoped they might encourage Jewish socialism and rebuff Britain at the same time. they took entirely too long to correct it but they did nonetheless, with the USSR continuing their historic mission of supporting national liberation worldwide by funding and arming the PLO. so you see that there is no contradiction here. there was a mistake which we acknowledge, and a correction.

so I can remind you: Zionism is fascism. Zionists have no right to occupy Palestine, and "Israel" has no right to exist!

#Palestine #Israel #ussr #stalin

5 notes · View notes

mrgregor · 8 years ago

Text

2016 in Review

In which I talk about the past 365 days in a blog entry on the tumblr dot com

A disclaimer: this is mostly stream of thought and me not bothering to refine anything

Honestly I think 2016 was a pretty good year for me. I know the joke is “Oh My God, 2016 Is The Absolute Worst” and yeah but also go meme somewhere else. I mean I had some of my worst points / felt more worn out than ever before this year, but a lot of great things happened too.

First: Carly Rae Jepsen and Emotion are really good. Incredible, and I’m in the top 1% of fans according to Spotfiy so that’s probably my greatest achievement ever. I am the upper crust.

I started out the year pretty great since I had just come back from being abroad (wow that feels so long ago.) Spring Semester was kind of rough because of dealing with Post-Abroad and Who Is Actually My Friend, I Want to Go Back Blues BUT:

· visited abroad friends during winter break

· visited them again during my spring break, spent 10 days there and had a real good time

· had a bomb haircut from March – June

· Made a Complete Comic for the first time in a long time (2 pages, but still)

Spring Break in particular sort of set the tone for the rest of the semester. School felt incredibly stifling and awful after being abroad. I felt like I was very much myself abroad, and that the people I met probably know me the most (whether or not they’re aware of it) outside of my non-Nuzchat friends. Spent that break just hanging out. I don’t know how else to put it, because I didn’t do anything extraordinary. Just hung out with people I felt really comfortable with. Obviously there was some down moments (like “Wow, I’m Sort Of This Perpetual Third Wheel At Their School”) but the point of bringing this up is that I felt good about myself for the most part. WOW!!

Went to TCAF again and met Jammy and Weter for the first time and stayed and Qwop’s house which was great, RIP…If only everyone didn’t live scattered across the country / globe lmao.

And when I think about this year, I think about the beginning of the summer. I was in Iowa working all summer and pretty much everyone I knew had gone home. The feeling of being outside in the heat and walking around is pretty vivid. It was real nice being on my own and just existing. Towards the end of the summer I sort of started sinking again but RIPerino, came to a realization about that too. I’ve always sort of been under the impression that I’d be able to completely come out of being depressed and what not. But now I get that it’s not really something I can beat (drunk). It’s a part of me, whoops. The gradual up and down oscillation is just a thing I have to deal with. And It Sucks! Petty Corner: I don’t want this, it’s exhausting, I wanna throw a tantrum or explode or something to just get everything out at least once. And depression is “your brain lying to you” but what else are you supposed to listen to? Having to be “no, that’s not right” every time I have a Bad Thought is exhausting too.

I read a book over the summer and in it, the author talked about her own depression and what not. She talked about how “the highs are much higher” and that sort of stuff and: 1.) I Feel and 2.) it’s nice but 3.) it’s not worth it to me, whoops. I’d much rather just stop with this wild ride but oh well. I guess I can’t really separate myself from This Thing.

And then school started and besides the actual school stuff, it was a good semester. Like, the worst semester of my life academically, and the worst in terms of how my state of mind affected my performance, but still. Canoe trip, got to know new people, got to know some friends a lot better, made another 2 page comic that I’m proud of, it was good in those respects. I mean I felt like I was dying / there was a vice around my chest for the past 3 months but still, whatever I guess.

I’m thinking about what I wrote and I guess it doesn’t really come across that this was a good year for me, whoops. The big thing is that I think I’m overall doing better, but the good doesn’t cancel out the bad. I’m simultaneously doing better and worse, wahoo. Something different I’ve noticed about myself: I’ve initiated more conversations, and get togethers, and just, I don’t know! I don’t feel more comfortable with myself but I guess I am.

That Gay Shit and That Angst Corner: One thing that happened this year was A Crush On A Friend! Wow! It was sort of nice having a crush tho I was frustrated and it sucked, but at the same time it was nice knowing I could feel this way. As much as I agonized about it, I appreciated the feeling? As weird as that sounds. I haven’t had a crush for a few years so [shrugs]. But a crush on a close guy friend sucked because: 1.) I really don’t have many guy friends in general, let alone close guy friends and 2.) I just want a bud!! Let me live!

I consider him a good friend but it became clear that I stopped liking him and started liking some imaginary person I made up. I didn’t feel the same way about the friend I was actually hanging out with as I did about this fantasy thing. I mean, it started out as me liking him but it just sort of morphed and transformed into someone new entirely. A thing I created that just happened to be wearing his face and skin. Sometimes I’ll conjure it up even now just because.

And in these daydreams where I have a / there is a Special Guy in my life, it’s never really ~me~. It’s a stronger, funnier, overall better version of me that I concoct. Someone who I think is worth having someone invested in them, and someone who could be Good for someone else too. Scenarios and lives in which I’m relied upon and depended on, etc etc. Anyway, I think these daydreams more about me wanting to be different than me wanting a Special Guy. I’m honestly fine being ~~~~single~~~~ and I like being by myself, but I guess I’m still not too comfortable with myself.

No resolutions because whatever. I hope 2017 is gay and I hope my power increases.

What else? I don’t know. I’m glad I have my friends and I’m glad Discord is so much better than Skype in every sense and I’m glad the Discord App is so good. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know some school people better this year. I’m glad that I have a lot of good memories from this year. 2016 might have been awful for The World but I did alright. I’ll continue to wing it as usual, because I don’t know how to do anything else. I hope this arbitrary unit of time is great for you too, each and every day.

2 notes · View notes