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rollinouttahere-writes-misc · 1 month ago

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Break Bread Chapter 1

Platonic Yandere Choso x Reader

5.4 k words

Summary: Following the disappearance of your friend Junpei, your life had been completely turned upside down with no clear answers in sight. The recent heartache leaves you feeling a bit more charitable than you otherwise may have been. Surely giving a stranger a small token of kindness will only lead to good thing, right?

Warnings: reader is female presenting and referred to as such, blood, implied death, grief, implied stalking

Choso has so much platonic yandere potential, but there is virtually nothing taking advantage of that, so I have decided to become the change I want to see in this world.

The bustling streets of Tokyo were always loud, but not so enough to make it impossible to hear your own thoughts. You wished it was, but luck was rarely on your side. And after everything that has happened recently… you’re pretty sure that the good kind of luck has entirely abandoned you.

To hell with everything. None of this made sense. It wasn’t fair. Why was this happening to you? What did you do to deserve to be damned to such a nightmare?

You hug your bag to you as you pick up your pace, wanting to get out of the worst of the crowd as quickly as possible. You weren’t a fan of crowds at the best of times, and the current state of affairs was far from ideal.

Because how were you supposed to simply go back to normal after your best friend, Junpei, disappeared without a trace? Not only that, but his disappearance was dubious as all hell. You felt like you were going insane, like you had no one you could trust anymore. It felt like your entire life was perpetually on the verge of collapsing, and you couldn’t even talk to anyone about it.

This all started when Junpei skipped school to go see a movie. You weren’t necessarily against skipping school once in a while, but you had to refuse his offer to go with him that time because you had just gotten in trouble with your mom over the last time you had skipped. At the time, you had been afraid of upsetting your mom even more, but now you wish you would have just gone with him because that’s when everything changed. Junpei was… different after that.

When you shot him a text asking where he wanted to meet up after you were out of school, it took him several hours to respond. At first you rationalized that he was in the movie theater, but no movie was four hours long. Was he ignoring you for not going with him? He wasn't usually that petty, but he had been dealing with a lot lately. You suppose you couldn't really fault him for being upset, though it did hurt you. By the time he did respond, it was short and offered no real explanation.

Junpei: busy. can't meet up today

Oh. He really was pissed at you for not skipping school with him. You had sent a few texts apologizing and explaining why you didn't go with him before, but all you got in response to those was an ‘it's fine’. It most certainly did not feel “fine”.

This icy back and forth continued for almost a week when he abruptly told you to skip class and meet him all the way across the city one morning. Admittedly, you were pretty mad over how he'd been acting that week and told him that you won't do that unless he comes over and says it in person.

He didn't. You regretted saying that.

That night you had been thinking about just going anyway, only for you to become violently ill with zero warning. One second you were fine and getting ready for school, and the next you were collapsed on the ground and so weak and feverish that you couldn't even move. Your mom naturally freaked out over your rapidly declining health and took you to the hospital, but then it got weirder.

Your symptoms completely vanished within an hour of getting there. Just as suddenly as it came on, your mystery illness left. Even the doctors were baffled. They had clearly seen your symptoms and didn't have any explanation for what you could have had that would have behaved that way.

Just to be safe, your mom elected to take the rest of the day off of work to stay home and keep an eye on you in case you relapsed, but that thankfully never happened. You were still feeling a little faint, but other than that, you were fine.

When you shot a text to Junpei explaining the medical emergency and asking if he wanted to try meeting up tomorrow instead, you weren't entirely surprised when it went unanswered. Your last exchange with him had been kinda rude and snippy. He probably thought you hadn't shown up on purpose.

But then your mom came home from her job the next day asking if you'd heard anything from Junpei about why his mom wasn't at work.

Nothing was normal after this. Your mom's boss knew nothing and said it wasn't his business if Ms. Yoshino wanted to vanish without a trace.

The school actually gave an excuse, but you didn't buy it. Your homeroom teacher said that Junpei had simply moved away. Overnight. With zero warning. Not even from his mother.

Junpei could be angsty at times, but he would never do something like that. Nagi absolutely wouldn't, and certainly not without a word to your mother, her best friend since childhood. While she was something of a wildcard to a point, she was still a responsible parent that wouldn't do anything she thought would jeopardize her son.

None of this made any sense, but everyone around you insisted that it did. It felt like everyone except for you was in on a joke. You’ve sent dozens, probably even hundreds of texts to both Junpei and Nagi begging for them to explain themselves or at least let you know that they were okay, but you got absolutely nothing. Complete radio silence.

So, you went looking for answers. It was debatable if that was a good idea. The first place you went was the police station to see if they knew about anything suspicious goings on in the area or if they'd heard from the Yoshino’s. They weren't helpful and all but pushed you back out the door once they realized you weren't there to file a report. This was frustrating, but hardly surprising.

Next was their home.

Thanks to some impromptu late night visits, you knew that the lock on one of the windows didn't work and would click open from the gentlest push. You climbed inside the house, and you immediately knew that something was very wrong.

All of their furniture was still here, so that was pretty solid evidence against the “they just moved” theory.

However, the most startling aspect to this reveal was how trashed the living room and kitchen were. The table was broken, chairs were flipped over, and worst of all, there was blood splattered everywhere.

You wanted to leave then. You knew you should have. But you didn't. Why? Morbid curiosity, maybe? Perhaps you were just in a state of shock… So you continued up the- blood-soaked- stairs.

Nagi’s room was first. It was even worse. There was a massive rusty brown bloodstain on her bed. Long since thawed ice packs were strewn about, the water of which had caused spots of mold to form. The smell was awful, so much so that you had to leave the room immediately to keep from vomiting.

Part of you didn't even want to check Junpei’s room. You were terrified of what you might find. Would there be more blood?

A body?

But… he's your best friend. He wouldn't run away if it was you that could have been hurt or worse. You owed it to him to push past your fears.

The door to his room creaks as you slowly open it, and you find… nothing.

Junpei's room looks completely normal. The only thing slightly off about it is that his closet is open and has been very blatantly rummaged through. Clothes are all over the floor, wrinkled and stepped on.

All of this begs the question: What the fuck happened here?

One of the first things that came to mind due to the severity of the crime scene was yakuza involvement. This kind of brutality sure seems like something those people would do. But then again, you don't think that professionals would leave behind such a mess. If they wanted to make someone disappear, wouldn't they want it to be clean and not blatantly a matter of foul play?

That, and why would the yakuza target the Yoshino's? It's not like either member of the family was doing anything that would catch their attention. Since when do gang members care about modest families just trying to get by? The only way you could imagine them crossing paths is if one of them saw something they weren't supposed to, but again, the amount of evidence left behind seemed to contradict yakuza standards.

After the grizzly discovery, your first instinct had been to run to the nearest police station, but you hesitated. Wouldn't they have already had to do a welfare check when the entire family disappeared? Have they already been to the household? Did they already know what was inside and were keeping quiet about it?

Perhaps they were keeping things close to the chest for investigative purposes and acting aloof to make the perpetrators fall into a false sense of security. Or they were completely stumped and were going to sweep this under the rug so as to not have a cold case tainting their files. Hell, they might try to pin it on you if you confront them just so they can close the book on it.

That, and well… you really weren't eager to admit to breaking and entering to a bunch of cops… and tampering with a crime scene. You had given them at least some reason to be suspicious of you now. You couldn't help yourself but to grab a few things before you left. Keepsakes to remind you of a dear friend that you were beginning to think was no longer alive.

A few of Junpei's movies, some plushies you'd won out of a claw machine and given to him, a couple of his shirts. The shirts may have been a weird thing to take, admittedly, but by the time you thought better of it, they were already stuffed in a drawer in your room. Returning them would only put you more at risk of accidentally framing yourself for a crime you didn't commit, so you had no choice but to hang onto them now.

The knowledge and unanswered questions spawned from said knowledge have weighed heavily on you since. Especially since you had no one to talk about this with. Anyone that might pass this along to police was a clear no for reasons already established, so any mandated reporter or likely snitch was out of the question. Your mom was also ruled out. She had enough on her mind as it was, you didn't want to confirm her worst fears by telling her about the gruesome scene.

And you couldn't talk to a friend about it because the only friend you had was more likely than not dead. So you were forced to suffer in silence and find your own way of coping. Which was to say, you weren’t coping with it at all. You were just wallowing in your own misery with no clear end in sight.

The one thing you had taken to doing in the wake of all this was spending more time at the local park. You'd found a quiet corner of it with minimal foot traffic, and you made a habit of spending at least an hour there every day to try and clear your head. It was nice. Junpei much preferred the indoors to the outdoors, so outings like this had been infrequent at best.

As you finally broke free of the crowd and diverged into the park, you let out a sigh of relief and hurried to your quiet place. You unzip your school bag to retrieve the snack you'd bought at a convenience store on the way here. Today's treat was melonpan, and you were eager to indulge yourself with it. You reach in blindly to pull it out, only for your fingers to touch more than one plastic wrapped food.

Damn it. You pull your hand out, seeing two melonpans in it. You'd done it again. Buying snacks in two's had become such a force of habit over the years that you kept instinctively buying two of everything unless you were really consciously thinking about it. It wasn't the end of the world or anything, but it was a depressing reminder of the person no longer here to eat it.

Oh well. It feels shameful to mope about extra food when you're at least alive to experience it. You'll just save the other one for tomorrow. Or maybe see if your mom wants it.

Just as you're about to stuff the extra back into your backpack, you look up and see that the bench that you had recently claimed as your own in your quiet place was very much taken. As irrational as it was, you felt an immediate wave of irritation at the perceived intruder.

A part of you wanted to tell him to get lost, but fortunately the rational part of your brain shut that down before you could act on it. This man was in a public place. He had just as much a right to be here as you did, regardless of whether you liked it or not.

Maybe you should leave? No, you've already come all the way out here. You don't want to walk all the way home after just getting here. You'll just have to tolerate this man's presence for today. It's fine. You'll live.

While walking closer to the pond that the bench sat facing, you can't help but observe the stranger. He's an odd sight, you must admit. For starters, his clothes consist of a loose fitting robe and some sort of purple makeshift tied vest.

His hair was just as unique, consisting of two pigtails that his hair appeared to be exploding out of. Then there was the facial tattoo that you absolutely couldn't ignore. It wasn't anything complex, just a long, thin rectangle running horizontally over his nose.

Truly an odd sight.

There was one more thing about him that you couldn't help but latch onto. His eyes. You've seen your share of eyebags in your life, both in the mirror and on others, but his were especially pronounced and so dark in color that you might have mistaken him for having black eyes at a glance. He looked completely and utterly miserable as he stared blankly ahead, seemingly not registering a single thing around him. Including yourself.

You felt compelled to do something. It wasn't typically in your nature to approach random strangers, but given recent events in your life… you don't think it would hurt to put a little extra kindness into this world. Your gaze drops to the extra melonpan in your hand, and you make a decision.

“Hey.” Your voice cracks a little, probably from a lack of use, as you call out to the man.

He reacts to your approach, but just barely. His head only slightly turns, but you can feel his weary gaze now on you. He doesn't say anything, which briefly makes you reconsider your actions, but you stubbornly persist.

“S-Sorry to bother you, mister. I, um, I couldn't help but notice you looked pretty down.” Still nothing. Was he deaf? You awkwardly jut your hand out, making your offering, “I accidentally bought an extra one of these. I thought you might like to have it.”

The man continued his bout of silence, but now his head was fully turned toward you. The once morose expression had shifted and was now the familiar look of annoyance. Okay, yeah. This was a bad idea. Too late to back out now.

In an effort to try and salvage this encounter and end it on a somewhat positive note, you very quickly shove the treat into his hands that were resting on his lap. They're cold, but you also feel a weird shock when you touch them, as if he had a buildup of static electricity on him that just zapped you. Would explain the state of his hair, you suppose.

With your mission accomplished, you quickly retreat from him, giving a quick bow before turning and hurrying over to the edge of the pond.

You find a suitable patch of grass to sit down on and waste no time opening your snack so you can have literally anything to distract you from how awkward that whole interaction was. What were you thinking doing something like that? You should have just been selfish and minded your own business. Now the guy with electro-shock pigtails is going to think that you're the weird one. All you can do is hope that you never bump into him again after this mortifying ordeal.

Just as you're taking the first bite of your food, you hear the bench creak, signaling that the man is getting up. A sense of relief floods you. You weirded him out so much that he's leaving. Excellent. This is the best possible outcome.

But then the footsteps start approaching you, and that gives you pause. The pathway is behind you, but it sounds like he's already walked past it and is getting even closer to you.

This is when it finally dawns on you that you're alone in a secluded part of the park with a strange man that has done nothing but give off bad vibes since you approached him. A pit of dread settles in your stomach as your brain scrambles for what to do. Should you scream? Get up and run for your life while screaming? Throw the melonpan at him while running and screaming?

He encroaches on you more, but all you can do is sit paralyzed on the ground. If you were watching a horror movie with Junpei, this would be the part where both of you would be yelling at the character to do something. Turns out you're no better than a horror movie protagonist. Worse even, because it doesn't look like you're even going to last long enough to be the final girl.

The man comes to a halt behind you. You could probably touch him if you reached behind your back. You don't even have to look at the reflection in the pond to know that he's staring at you. You can feel it.

What did he want? What was he going to do? Your body still refuses to move.

After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a few seconds, he makes another move. He walks so that he’s standing beside you, then sits down. He’s so close that one of his arms brushes against yours. The contact lacked the same shock that the first had.

“What is this?”

All you can do is stammer at the sudden question, “H-Huh?”

The man holds up the food you’d given him, “What is this thing?”

For a moment, you just stare at him in confusion. How had he never seen melonpan before? You can find them everywhere. You shake your head. It would be best to just answer him. “It’s melonpan. It’s a sweetbun baked with cookie dough on top.” You hazard a glance at him, only to find that he’s staring a hole into you, prompting you to immediately look away and start eating your food to distract yourself from whatever was going on with the weirdo you tried to be nice to.

—

How could this be happening? No, the more important question was how was this possible? Choso is the oldest of nine. This was a fact. His brothers were all he ever knew, all that he had to care for. He knew them, felt them, memorized their names… but he missed one?

The second this girl’s hand touched his, he felt the connection. The undeniable tie that he felt to all of his siblings. It was weaker, but he could never mistake that feeling for anything else. The girl next to him was his sister. But how?

Unlike with the rest of his brothers, he couldn’t feel their connection until he touched her. Even now, it was difficult to feel your presence. If the connection between him and his brothers were to be manifested into a physical form, it would be a thick wire cable, but the one between him and you would be a strand of webbing. A barely there thin wisp of a connection, but it was there, and now that he knew what to look for, he could tell that it was inseverable.

One thing that was clear was that you were wholly human, not half cursed spirit. He couldn’t sense anything coming off of you that would indicate you had even a trace amount of cursed spirit in you. You weren’t even a sorcerer from what he could tell. But if you weren’t a death painting womb or a spirit, how could you be his sister? Had you been born around the times him and his siblings were created, you would most certainly be dead by now. He wasn’t an expert on humans, but he knew they lived short lives, typically not even making it to 100. Yet here you are, and appearing to be quite young at that.

His human mother obviously had nothing to do with you, and Kamo Noritoshi should also be deceased. Granted, he’s such an evil bastard that it wouldn’t particularly shock Choso to learn that he found a way to persist despite his human status through sheer force of will and the desire to sow more horrors and chaos. That would be very like him. But no, that was ridiculous.

Now he was second guessing himself. Were you really his sister, or was this some irrational feeling he was experiencing after the loss of Eso and Kechizu? With him now thinking more clearly after getting over the initial shock, he was seeing a glaring discrepancy: You hadn’t said a single thing indicating that you were his sister. You didn’t even call him big brother.

But you did approach him and performed a kind gesture in his time of need, like a good sibling would. Were you attempting to signal that you knew, or was this a subconscious connection? Or was he simply seeing things that weren’t there because of his own grief? There had to be a way to figure this out.

It hits him. If you were his sister, then surely you must have felt it when two of your brothers died. Regardless of how minute the connection was, something so devastating would be felt. Yes, this should help him clear the air and get to the bottom of this.

Choso clears his throat, then asks his question, “Have you… felt a sense of loss recently?”

The vague nature of the question was intentional. He didn’t want to lead you to any particular answer, he wanted to see what you would make of this on your own. This was the only way.

His question appeared to have startled you. Your head snaps up, crumbs from the “melonpan” on your face. He has to resist the urge to reach out and wipe them off. You look away and swallow the food in your mouth, and for a moment he thinks that you aren’t going to answer him.

“I… Yeah. I have.” He watches as you pocket the empty wrapper, then draw your knees to your chest and hold them tightly. You stare out pensively at the water with a downcast look on your face. “I feel like I don’t know what to do with myself now that they’re gone. It’s weird how quickly your life can completely change overnight and how I’m just supposed to go on with my life despite the gaping wound left behind in their absence.”

Choso couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You felt it. You felt when Eso and Kechizu died despite having never even met them. The bond was strong enough that you not only noticed when they died, but it was affecting you significantly.

Oh, his dear baby sister was left to grieve alone all because he didn’t think to look for her. An unforgivable sin that he would spend the rest of his life atoning for, but it’s going to be okay. He’s here now, and he won’t let you suffer alone any longer.

Just as he’s about to bring his grieving kin into his embrace, you stand up abruptly. You dust off your clothing and wipe at your eyes aggressively, “I-I’m sorry. I have to go. Thanks for letting me vent, I guess.” Then you turn and hurry away from him.

What? What were you doing? Why are you running away? Choso leaps up onto his feet and is ready to run after you and ask what he did wrong and what you want him to do, but he stops. He was awfully cold to you when you first approached him; before he felt the connection. Horror strikes him when he thinks back to how close he was to using his curse technique on you for intruding on his solitude. If you hadn’t touched him first, he would have killed you. He would have killed his own blood for doing what he should have been doing.

It all makes sense now. His demeanor, his initial rejection of your kindness hurt you. His precious little sister went through all of the trouble of pursuing a connection you likely didn’t even fully understand, and when you tried to make him feel better in your own human way, you were wounded by how he acted. What a failure. What a disgrace of a brother he is! His brothers would most certainly be disappointed in him if they could see him now.

He has to fix this. The onus is on him to repair the fragile bond he unwittingly damaged. The problem was that he was sorely underprepared to care for a human sibling. Granted, him and his brothers were all half human, but they had existed and lived as curses first and foremost. How did humans comfort each other?

“S-Sorry to bother you, mister. I, um, I couldn't help but notice you looked pretty down. I accidentally bought an extra one of these. I thought you might like to have it.”

Food. It seemed like food was a comfort item to humans. He looks down at the melonpan in his hands, still in its wrapper but now crushed from how tightly he had been holding it. This one was unacceptable. You deserved an unbroken one- No, you deserved many! He has years of absence to make up for, one absolutely won’t cut it.

—

Ugh, what was wrong with you? Crying in front of a complete stranger like that was humiliating. You can hope that he didn’t notice, but with the way he had been staring at you during that entire interaction, you doubted that was the case.

That whole thing had been so weird. At first that man had seemed so annoyed at your presence, but then he invaded your space to sit uncomfortably close to you and asked that weirdly invasive question. And like, okay, it did feel a little good to finally vocalize your recent struggles, but it was still less than ideal to do so to someone you didn’t even know the name of.

A sigh escapes you as you power walk back home. Maybe you were being a little too harsh. That man was definitely unusual and more than a little off putting, but many would have described Junpei that way. It wasn’t right for you to be so judgemental to someone you didn’t know the struggles of. He was clearly going through something, who were you to admonish him for not being the epitome of a ray of sunshine during it?

Great. Now you felt bad for acting the way you did. It was too late to run back and apologize and offer to be a listening ear to him now. Perhaps you’ll cross paths with him again and can make it up to him then. Or maybe you’ll never see him again and you’ll be able to forget all about this. You’d be happy with either option.

Your home comes into view, and you break into a light jog to close the distance. The sun had been setting ever since you started to head back, so it was almost dark now. You unlock the front door and slip inside, calling out an “I’m home!” over your shoulder as you slip off your shoes. There was no response. Mom probably had to stay late at work again. All of Nagi’s work had been dumped onto her after her disappearance.

A series of thuds comes from upstairs, right where your room is. You freeze and strain your ears, but you don’t hear anything else.

“Mom?” There’s a slight tremor of uncertainty to your voice. “Mom, is that you?” No response yet again. You glance down and see that mom’s slippers are right where she left them this morning. She wasn’t home.

Who the fuck is upstairs?

Part of you wants to run the neighbors, but what if this is nothing? What if something just fell over because you closed the front door a little too hard? Yeah. That has to be it. You swallow thickly as you slowly creep up the stairs so as to not make any more unnecessary noise. You haven’t heard anything since those first thuds which did lend some credence to the theory that something had simply fallen over, but you couldn’t shake the fear that someone was there.

Had someone seen you snooping around the Yoshino household? Were they here to shut you up permanently? The door to your room was shut. You press an ear to it and still hear nothing. You take a deep breath, then throw the door open.

The room was empty. No one was here. You let out a sigh of relief, then flick on the light so you can try and find what fell over. Light illuminates the room and draws your eyes immediately to your desk.

A massive pile of melonpan rests upon it.

What?

You walk over to the desk, stepping around the packaged snacks that had tumbled onto the floor. There had to be at least fifty of them here, maybe more. You look at the mountain of melonpan with a dumbfounded look on your face. Where did these come from? Your mom liked to get you treats here and there when she could, but it was usually just one thing. Sometimes she’d get you a drink too, but that was it. She never bought this kind of thing to such an excess before.

A light breeze flows through your hair, prompting you to turn around and notice your window is ajar. Someone was in your room. But… But who would break into a teenager's room just to leave an absurd amount of snacks for her? Who would do such a-

Junpei

Memories flash into your mind of Junpei sneaking into your room to bring you snacks and some movies to watch when you were sick. You fall to your knees. He wasn’t dead. Junpei was alive! He was alive and sending you a message letting you know that he was okay!

You launch yourself back up onto your feet and sprint to the window. You throw it open and lean out, frantically looking for your friend. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you don’t let that discourage you. This was definitely his handiwork. He probably just needed to lay low for a while after whatever happened at his home. You’ll have to wait for him to visit you again. Hopefully he’ll do so when you’re actually here next time.

For now, you’ll settle for letting him know that you got the message. You inhale deeply, then yell out into the empty street, “Thank you!” You don’t say his name just in case you’re right about him needing to be discreet, but you’re sure he’ll know that this is meant for him.

The window is shut, and you fall back onto your bed with a genuine smile on your face for the first time since the disappearance. Everything was going to be okay now, you’re sure of it.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #junpei yoshino #nagi yoshino #junpei yoshino x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #x reader #reader insert

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 year ago

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I saw your post where anon asked "what is sex" and you responded "sex is anything you want it to be sex" and it reminded me of a discussion I had in a class about theater production. During the pandemic lockdown many production companies in my city, both big and independent companies, started doing virtual theater via Zoom and there were a lot of purists clutching their pearls because "it's not Real Theater if it's through a screen". We were debating in class wether it counts or not as Real Theater and I said "virtual theater is theater the same way sexting is sex, if it brings you pleasure then it counts" and the professor almost spit his coffee.

extremely true and also the people whining about virtual theater not counting are wieners. just btw.

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covid-safer-hotties · 6 months ago

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by: Beck Levy

“Maybe now vocalists will finally start bringing their own mics,” I tweeted in the first days of March 2020. My virtual audience was mostly friends I met by participating in subcultures in and adjacent to the DIY tendency of hardcore punk rock. In those early days, we on the cultural fringes shared a sense that the pandemic, in its capacity as a social intervention, could meaningfully disrupt the oppressive ruling order.

When I booked and played shows before COVID-19 hit, I tried to harness energy and rally when crisis arose. Touring band is lost on the road? I was ready to DJ to keep people from leaving between sets. No one came to unlock the club? Let’s play in the parking lot. The last show I’d played, just weeks earlier during Mardi Gras, was on a trailer being pulled by a dump truck. We’re responsive to shifting circumstances, right?

I couldn’t get a clear look at the new terrain through the brutal haze of my first-wave infection. I was disoriented, waking up breathless, fevered, delirious from nightmares about drowning in my own blood. I could not fathom taking any action that would contribute to COVID-19 circulating, and my symptoms made me believe I would be a risk to my community. With home tests scarce, every flare had me conceiving of myself as though I might be a biological weapon.

Friends texted their fears to me frantically: “Is music over? Are shows done?” I thought back to informal and unconventional gigs, the freedom and potentiality those moments held, and reassured my friends, sequestered in our separate biomes. I said and believed: “Music always finds a way, youth culture always finds a way, underground culture always finds a way.”

Slowly, reimagined, remote, and socially-distanced events returned. In lieu of Jazz Fest, New Orleans radio station WWOZ charmed us with “festing in place” on the airwaves. I did a solo set in a virtual anniversary showcase for my old record label. Another friend live streamed a show from a cavernous church. I’d guessed performances mediated by technology might salt the wound, but desperate for connection, I treasured those experiences.

I watched my place in the world creep away from me. There were rumors of scandalous secret shows during lockdown. But the first real sign was pictures on Instagram of people traveling and touring again. Scroll to that last image: a row of COVID-19 tests, all negative, smug. Or positive, chagrined but only a little; a mismatch to the scale of: “For fun I traveled as a disease vector and personally participated in the proliferation of an airborne pathogen that can kill or maim.” Was it a character limit? A limitation of character?

The world passed me by, carouseling through normalization phases, like COVID-19 tests phasing their way out of tour posts. I watched scenes regroup from my new vantage point in biopolitical exile. Pandemic gloom catalyzed a spate of reunions, which is wholesome and beautiful except for the fact that at least one band knowingly toured with a member who tested positive.

Was I overreacting? While COVID-19 left me with an immune system that attacks my body, my mind attacked itself with this question. I’d traded amps for this mental feedback loop. The counterargument was implicit: people need unfettered access to music more than we need safety.

Live music came back. It just didn’t bring me with it.

I didn’t see a critical mass of bookers, venues, or bands advocating for COVID-19 safety with measures like outdoor shows, improved ventilation, livestream options, or just adding tests and masks to the earplug bin at the door. Some hand disinfectant; a little hygiene theater at conventional venues. The will just wasn’t there. I thought our deal was fuck the state, we’ll do it our way. I found myself slipping through the subcultural safety net that exists for outcasts who are slipping through the cracks of mass culture and late capitalism.

Of course, punk was already inaccessible to some. And I actually believe a certain amount of gatekeeping is necessary to protect punk from posers, jerks, and cops. But among the nebulous community clustered around shows, the sexism and racism people have experienced has always been very real, to the tune of entire zines, books, films about that exclusion. I monitored my heartbreak, critically. Resource-scarce, informal, and underground operations often exist at a quagmire of conflicting access needs. Was the sting of betrayal just this painful because it affected me, directly? Can the subaltern mosh?

There was a brief period where my baseline had plateaued, and I enjoyed medium-functionality between flares. Clinging to my modest recovery, a memorial service was my first congregant risk. That was the last time I tried to play guitar. I got the twisties, psychic vertigo from grief and from the contradiction of my setting and my experience, but the band played on, complete with a brass section. And at that otherwise beautiful event, I was ceremoniously reinfected by an asymptomatic tuba player. My health has been steadily deteriorating ever since.

Isolation is hard: it can feel like rejection, it can feel real personal. I struggled to adapt. I know I can have a persecution complex, but I also know I’m materially being made surplus. So what do I tell the complex? Are people being thoughtless, or do they explicitly not give a fuck about immunocompromised people like me?

Life is never totally safe, danger is often exciting, sometimes risk is the point. I know that. I’m not (just) a joyless scold. In the era of potentially deadly airborne pathogens, we’re playing with other lives when we make “individual” health decisions—I thought we’d learned that, but there was no such reckoning.

Punks accepted the sociological production of the end of the pandemic, moving in lockstep with the state, sacrificing medically vulnerable people on the altar of pleasure, just as the state had sacrificed us on the altar of capital. I thought our ingenuity would create new forms of shows. Instead, it exposed our limits under duress. To quote the band Allergic to Bullshit, “If this is what we’re for, this is what we’ll get.”

Maybe my shock seems naïve—after all, there’s a difference between “subculture” and “counterculture”—but there’s a reason I expected better. There are visionaries with love, passion, and fearlessness who organize shows in strip malls, caves, skateparks, churches, parking garages; shows with immediacy like distributing free Narcan, and conviction, like benefits toward Palestinian liberation. I await, with diminishing faith, the eruption of that tendency in the bioethical arena.

Since immune ableism is hegemonic, congregating is a question of building a realistic threat model, making decisions with people who are directly impacted by your actions, and taking all possible precautions. I’m encouraged by radical formations with accessibility modifications, particularly those connecting social abandonment, climate crisis, and genocide. I see this reflected in art book fairs that require masking, outdoor Shabbatot, test-first leftist reading groups. Queer and drag events are making adjustments. Mask blocs and clean air clubs collaborate, with limited resources, to make spaces more accessible. These are people who insist on collective health, demanding freedom to live and breathe clean air.

For those of us with severe Long COVID, exclusion from live music represents a profound loss of humanity. This disconnection feeds into my daily despair; in medical terms, my depersonalization/derealization. Having hoped this crisis would push us closer to communism than complacency, I feel whiplash, what Naomi Klein calls “political vertigo.” Millions of Americans with Long COVID have disappeared from the workforce. Data on the underground music scene are unavailable. It’s hard to count ghosts. I’ve wanted to ask: Have you noticed that some of us are gone? Do you ever miss us?

Four years later, I still can’t even make it to a well-filtered show. My last recreational outing ended in hospitalization from merely ascending a steep hill. I hear about shows from my roommate, the only person I see, who is also the only masked person at them. I tell myself I could try to go to an outdoor gig one day, maybe, if my governing health planets aligned. Instead of being an active musician, I pretend I’m like Jandek, a reclusive genius, but really I’m too clumsy and unfocused to play at home.

I do what I do with everything: act like I’m in a different world. It’s not difficult, because I am. The Well do their thing out there, I do mine in here. I moved across the country in search of better healthcare and, homebound, routinely forget I’m not still in New Orleans. Either way I am inside. I gave up and I don’t fight the world leaving me behind. I am back here, rolling the boulder of my body up steep hills.

In spite of everything, I’m glad shows continue. It’s bittersweet comfort knowing freaks are getting raucous in basements, with noise made by other freaks, sprayed with wet yells, aggressively jostling with teens; in a reprieve from control, experiencing music together. I’d die for your right to do that. And thanks to you, I just might.

#mask up #public health #wear a mask #pandemic #covid #wear a respirator #covid 19 #still coviding #sars cov 2 #coronavirus

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soon-palestine · 11 months ago

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So it turns out that Elons trip to Israel wasn't just for kosher theater and an IDF propaganda tour.

A secret meeting took place while he was there that went virtually unreported by any news media outlets.

In attendance was Netanyahu, Musk's tour organizer, investor Omri Casspi, Brigadier General Danny Gold, Head of the Israeli Directorate of Defense Research & Development and one of the developers of Iron Dome, Aleph venture capital funds partner Michael Eisenberg, and Israeli cybersecurity company CHEQ CEO Guy Tytunovich who is ex-israeli intelligence unit 8200.

The six men talked about technology in the service of Israel's defense, dealing with fake content and anti-Semitic and anti-Israeli comments, and the use by non-democratic countries of bots as part of campaigns to change perceptions, including on the X platform.

The solution Musk was presented was the Israeli unicorn CHEQ, a company founded by ex-Israeli intelligence unit 8200 CEO Guy Tytunovich that combats bots and fake users.

Following the meeting, Elon signed an agreement with cheQ, and apparently, the reason for the quick closing of the deal was Elons "direct involvement" with the company.

Now. What they won't tell you.

Israel is primarily responsible for the creation of bots. There currently exists dozens of ex-Israeli intelligence firms whose sole purpose is perception management, social media influencing/manipulation, disinformation campaigns, psychological operations, opposition research, and honey traps.

They create state of art, multi layer, AI avatars that are virtually indistinguishable from a real human online. They infiltrate target audiences with these elaborately crafted social-media personas and spread misleading information through websites meant to mimic news portals. They secretly manipulate public opinion across app social media platforms.

The applications of this technology are endless, and it has been used for character assassination, disruption of activism/protest, creating social upheaval/civil unrest, swaying elections, and toppling governments.

These companies are all founded by ex-Israeli intelligence and members of unit 8200. When they leave their service with the Israeli government, they are backed by hundreds of billions of dollars through Israeli venture capital groups tied to the Israeli government.

These companies utilize the technology and skills learned during their time served with Israeli intelligence and are an extension of the Israeli government that operates in the private sector.

In doing so, they operate with impunity across all geographical borders and outside the bounds of the law. The Israeli government is forbidden by law to spy on US citizens, but "ex" Israeli intelligence has no such limitations, and no laws currently exist to stop them.

Now back to X and Elon Musk.

Elon met with these people in secret to discuss how to use X in service of Israel's defense.

Elon hired an ex-Israeli intelligence firm to combat the bots…. that were created by another ex-israeli intelligence firm.

Elon hired an ex-israeli intelligence firm to verify your identity and collect your facial biometric data.

Do you see the problem yet?

Israel now has end to end control over X. Israel can conduct psychological operations and create social disinfo/influence campaigns on X with impunity. They now have facial biometric data from millions of people that can be used to create and populate these AI generated avatars.

They can manipulate public opinion, influence congressmen and senators, disrupt online movements, manipulate the algorithm to silence dissenting voices against Israel, and they can sway the US elections.

When the company that was hired to combat the bots is also Israeli intelligence…

Who is going to stop them?

Cyberspace is the wild.west. There are currently no laws on the books to regulate foreign influence on social media. There is nothing to stop them from conducting psychological operations and disinformation campaigns on unsuspecting US citizens. These companies operate with impunity across all geographical boundaries and there is nobody to stop them. But don't take my word for it.

For anyone wondering what the end game is for this, it was recently verbalized by Vivek Ramaswamy here on X. To narrow and completely eliminate the gap between what we say (think) in private and in public. In practice, the thought police of the future. And X is actively working on it.

#palestine #gaza #free palestine #twitter #bots

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letteraddressedtothefire · 8 months ago

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✨ Pre-Birthday Preparations Timeline for Xavier: A Global Celebration of Our Star Prince ✨

As Xavier's birthday draws near, the fandom is buzzing with excitement across the globe! Our community has been hard at work since May, creating memorable ways to celebrate our beloved Prince of Philos. From our CN Star Sisters to Xavier’s Little Stars, the love for our Light has transcended borders, uniting us in preparing for his special day.

Aside from our international cupsleeve events, here’s a sneak peek of some of the highlights of our preparations:

⭐️CN Star Sisters and Global Little Stars gathered heartfelt written and audio messages to be sent to a satellite in honor of Xavier.

⭐️Collaboration with the elemeo food app, where fans could collect points (wishing stars) to help fund Xavier’s birthday.

⭐️Announcement of personally-sponsored 100K boarding passes with Xavier’s image at Beijing Capital International Airport.

⭐️Donation of 2 solar street lights to rural areas.

⭐️Xavier’s Little Stars symbolically purchased and named twin stars in the sky “Starhunter and Moonchaser” in Xavier’s honor.

⭐️Another symbolic buying and naming of a star in the sky "Xavier-Lumiere" with its own star website and virtual reality access (personal project).

⭐️10+ shopping malls were rented for Xavier's birthday with giant LED screens, interactive photo walls, and decorations.

⭐️The Stellaris fan site was launched to unite Xavier’s global fanbase.

⭐️Milk tea collaboration kicked off, distributing 6,000 custom cup sleeves across 20 stores.

⭐️A personally-funded tree-planting project in Sabah, Borneo.

⭐️300+ Xavier billboards across the globe, including LED light shows, giant screen previews, sky curtain screens, LED office buildings, and LED screens on one of the most crowded subway tunnels in China.

⭐️The “Seeds of Hope” (tree-planting) and “Nourishing Hearts” (food for the needy) fundraising campaigns were launched by Xavier's Little Stars.

⭐️A personally-rented yacht where 6 other Xavier stans were invited to celebrate.

⭐️Ferris Wheel collaboration

⭐️52 movie theaters to broadcast Xavier videos before every movie on October 16th.

…and more!

This celebration is more than just a birthday party— it’s a symbol of the unity, passion, and light that Xavier has brought to all of us. Swipe through the supporting graphics for a full timeline of events and stay tuned for even more projects, events, and surprises that will make this celebration truly unforgettable! Let’s keep shining our light for Xavier. 🌟

The real countdown starts on September 16, leading up to Xavier’s birthday on October 16. Celebrate with us!

Thank you to every Star Sister, Little Star, and Global Stan for making this celebration shine as bright as Xavier himself! 🌟

Disclaimer: these projects and events are fan-hosted and not affiliated with the official Love and Deepspace game.

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asordinaryppl · 7 months ago

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A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 16: Crossing Paths Translations

budding spring | dream catcher | painful re:bake | crossing paths new color stage

all episodes of the story are also proofread by myuntachis!

last updated: 26/11/2024

The Final Baton Pass

"Today's Special"

The Winter Troupe's Role

The Missing Piece

Broadening Horizons

About Our Circumstances

The Theater Nerds' Influence

My Father's Family

Still Recruiting!

The Unexpected Encounter

Admiration for Theater

The Four's Starting Line

Things Left Undone

The Silent Picture Book Author

The Unknown Sides Of Our Families

Unfading Presence

The Script, The Actors, And...

Someone I Used To Know

GOD-za First

Following Traces Of The Past

The Virtual World

Fate Tying Us Together

Uncovered Identities

Status Report

Surpassing The Passing Grade

The Doctor From That Day

The Promise Of Some Day

Father's Feelings

Two Irons In The Fire

Real Name

Can't Hide His Dread

For Our Kind Leader

Temporary Opening

Yearn for the Angel.

The Angel's Letter

Blooming Beautifully

log-in messages:

Tsumugi Tsukioka (Michael) + Tasuku Takato (Raphael)

Hisoka Mikage (Uriel) + Homare Arisugawa (Metatron)

Azuma Yukishiro (Fred)

Guy (Derrick)

daily inste posts (links lead to twitter)

Chikage-Utsuki (17/10)

Kaz-PIKO (18/10)

a.k.a-AZM (22/10)

muku-prince (23/10)

3939-Sakuya (27/10)

BANRI. (28/10)

#a3!#a3! translation #masterpost #might or might not be a little slower than one per day with this part because i'm juggling work and school but also...#insane fuyu oshi finally makes it to fuyu... so excited...

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jbaileyfansite · 1 year ago

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Interview with the Los Angeles Times (2024)

“This is where all the cruising happened.”

Jonathan Bailey and I are standing in Pershing Square on a bright, blustery spring afternoon, nearing the end of a homemade queer history tour of downtown L.A.: One Magazine, Cooper Do-Nuts/Nancy Valverde Square, the Dover bathhouse, the Biltmore Hotel and this, the city’s former Central Park, a haven, since before World War I, for “fairies” and “sissy boys,” servicemen on leave and beatniks on the road.

“Is it still happening now?” he asks.

“Probably not as much,” I venture.

“Well, you let me know if it’s happening,” he teases, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

Bailey understands the uses of the charm offensive. As Sam, the handsome Lothario of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s delightful pre-”Fleabag” curio, “Crashing”; Anthony, the romantic hero of “Bridgerton’s” second season; and John, the jerk of a protagonist in Mike Bartlett’s love triangle play “Cock,” the English actor, 36, has swaggered up to the precipice of superstardom. With roles in such studio tentpoles as “Wicked” and “Jurassic World” on the horizon, he may just break through. Yet he delivers career-best work in Showtime’s queer melodrama “Fellow Travelers,” as anti-Communist crusader-turned-gay rights activist Tim Laughlin, by leaving behind the self-assured rakes and tapping a new wellspring: soft power.

Tim may be, as Bailey puts it, “an open nerve,” but as it turns out, the devout Catholic and political naïf — who falls for suave State Department operative Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Matt Bomer) just as Sen. Joseph McCarthy tries to purge the federal government of LGBTQ people — is formidable indeed.

Stretching from the Lavender Scare to the depths of the AIDS crisis, in scenes of tenderness, cruelty and toe-curling sex, Bailey’s performance communicates that little-spoken truth of relationships: It takes more strength to submit than it does to control. The former demands discipline, courage, trust; the latter requires only force.

“In ‘Bridgerton,’ [Bailey] is like a Hawkins Fuller character — he is very sexy and has lots of power, has that kind of confident charisma that absolutely is not Tim at all,” says “Fellow Travelers” creator Ron Nyswaner.

But any doubt about Bailey’s ability to mesh with Bomer, who boarded the project early in development, was put to bed with the actors’ virtual rehearsal of a meeting on a park bench in the pilot. “‘Well, that’s a first,’” Nyswaner recalls an executive texting him. “I cried in a chemistry read.”

‘Am I inviting people in?’

Bailey grew up in a musical family in the Oxfordshire countryside outside London, and this, coupled with an appreciation for the morning prayers, choir practice and Mass he attended as a scholarship student at the local Catholic school, fed his precocious talents. (“I loved the performance of it,” he laughs. “Not to diminish the celebration of religious process, but I did love the idea of wearing a gown.”) By age 10, he’d appeared in the West End, playing Gavroche in a production of “Les Misérables,” an experience he now recognizes as an encounter with a queer found family — albeit one shadowed by the toll of the AIDS crisis, which peaked in the U.K. in the mid-1990s.

“When I’m asked about my childhood, there’s so much I don’t remember, and I think that’s true of anyone who’s been in fight or flight for 20 years,” he says. “I would have been in a cast of people whose friends would have died in the last seven years. I think of where I was seven years ago. I had all my gay friends then. It’s only retrospectively that I can retrofit a real gay community around me [in the theater], that I just wasn’t aware of [then].”

During the late 1990s and early 2000s, American and British culture presented queer adolescents with a bewildering array of mixed signals. As beloved celebrities came out in growing numbers, and the battle for marriage equality became a central locus of LGBTQ political organizing, the media continued to propagate harmful stereotypes of gay men as miserable, lonely, perverted or worse — and, Bailey remembers, callously turned George Michael, arrested on suspicion of cruising in a Beverly Hills restroom in 1998, and Irish pop star Stephen Gately, who revealed his sexuality in 1999, fearful he was about to be outed, into tabloid spectacles.

No wonder Bailey, like many LGBTQ people of his generation, should feel the “chemical” thrill of “validation and acceptance” during London Pride at age 18, then embark on a two-year relationship with a woman in his 20s.

“Dangerously, if you’re not exposed to people who can show you other examples of happiness, you think that’s the easiest way to live,” Bailey says. “It’s funny. You look back and you can tell the story in one way, which is that I always knew who I was and my sexuality and my identity within that. But obviously at times, it was really tough. I compromised my own happiness, for sure. And compromised other people’s happiness.”

Disclosures about his personal life have become particularly thorny for the actor since the premiere of “Bridgerton,” the blockbuster bodice-ripper from executive producer Shonda Rhimes.

“The Netflix effect does knock you off center completely,” he says, recalling the experience of finding a paparazzo waiting outside his new flat before he’d even moved in. “Suddenly, you do start having nightmares about people climbing in your windows... Even now, talking about it makes me feel like, ‘Am I inviting people in?’”

He is also critical of the media for churning out headlines about the smallest details of celebrities’ private lives, often detached from their original context. In an interview with the London Evening Standard published in December, Bailey described a harrowing encounter in a Washington, D.C., coffee shop in which a man threatened his life for being queer — and, in recounting the experience, offhandedly mentioned the “lovely man” he’d called, shaken, after it happened. Although Bailey acknowledges that the original story handled the subject with aplomb, he felt dismayed that more attention wasn’t paid to the intended warning about rising anti-LGBTQ sentiment: “The only thing that got syndicated from that story was that I had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t true,” he sighs. “It was kind of depressing, if I’m honest.”

Still, Bailey, who once turned down a role in a queer-themed TV series because it would have required him to speed along revelations about his personal life he wasn’t ready to make, is prepared to embrace the power of vulnerability when it feeds the work. Although a member of his inner circle expressed doubts about “Fellow Travelers’” steamy sex scenes, for instance, the actor intuited that they were what made the project worth doing: “I was like, ‘I’m telling you, they are the reason why this is going to be brilliant.’”

‘He’s changed my trajectory in my own life’

To those who would complain about the state of sex in film and TV, “Fellow Travelers” is the perfect riposte. All of it matters, from Tim’s first flirtation with Hawk to the finale’s closing minutes, because the series, at its core, is about the importance of soft power: the strength required to bend, but not break; to adapt, but not abandon oneself; to survive without shrinking to nothing in the process.And depicting that through sex, specifically gay sex, makes “Fellow Travelers” radical indeed.

Bailey understands that baring so much comes with certain risks. When I tell him that research for the story has filled my algorithmic “For You” feed on X (formerly Twitter) with speculation that his onscreen relationship with Bomer has a real-life element, he notes that “shipping” fictional couples and costars alike has long been part of Hollywood fantasy. But he bristles at the implication that he and Bomer are anything but skilled actors at work.

“I would love for people to know that the success of our chemistry isn’t based on us f—. It’s actually about us leaning into the craft,” he says. “It’s a vulnerable situation to be in, talking about it on record. I don’t want to rob people of their thoughts. But I do have a set of values, and as an artist, you don’t need to be f— to tell that love story.”

Underlying that craft, Bailey adds, is the confidence to speak up, as with one scene in “Fellow Travelers” that was adjusted because he said, “I don’t want to be naked today.” He learned to use his voice the hard way: In his early 20s, he recalls, he was once “bullied” on set when “someone was threatened” by him and vowed to himself, “I’m never going to do that to someone. I’m never going to allow that to happen.”

This impulse to direct his influence in support of others has blossomed further with “Fellow Travelers.” On the day of our interview, Bailey enthuses about an upcoming meeting with legendary gay rights activist Cleve Jones and shares his idea for a docuseries recording the stories of elders in the LGBTQ+ community while they are still here to tell them. He describes lying in a hospital bed on set on World AIDS Day, in character as Tim, surrounded by gay men who had lost friends and lovers during the crisis, and finding himself thinking, “What do I want to leave behind?”

“I think he’s changed my trajectory in my own life,” Bailey says.

This is, perhaps, the most common reaction I know to diving deep into queer history — the understanding that we, like our forerunners, are responsible for shaping the queer future, whether in politics, society or art. No one is going to do it on our behalf.

As we stand on the nondescript corner now named for her, I relate the story of the late queer activist Nancy Valverde, who was arrested repeatedly while a barber school student in the 1950s on suspicion of “masquerading” because of her preference for short hair and men’s clothing, and later successfully challenged her harassment by the police in court.

“What a hero!” Bailey exclaims, wondering at Valverde’s bravery. “The thing that’s so interesting with power battles is, ultimately, identity is the thing that gives you the most strength and power in your life, isn’t it?

“Because that’s one thing people can’t take away from you: who you are and how you express yourself.”

Source

#jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #interviews #interviews:2024 #LA times interview 2024 #LA times #fellow travelers #NEW!

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cyphyree · 1 year ago

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bestie what did you call those fucking parrots??? "bloodthirsty parakeet satirical caricatures of the Mussolini facist regime" like... what?? genuinely confused, could you explain it to me?

Yeah! Tbh I read this post that made the connection, and thought “damn that made sense actually.” They explain it really well:

(Og post for ask context)

To add on:

The parakeets carrying Himi to the great grand uncle were passing through the world of their ancestors and were tearing up about it. It relates to the above post about fascists glorifying the mythic past

The parakeets held up signs with “Duch” when rallying around their king. This might be a reference to the Italian word “Duce” (meaning “duke” or “leader”). Mussolini is known as Il Duce (“The Leader”), and the term is virtually inextricably associated with him

Parakeets symbolize a variety of things, but in this case may symbolize mindless herd mentality

The culture of the parakeets is very militaristic��even the way they walk is a march—as well as nationalistic. It parallels the show of Japanese nationalism at the start of the movie

When Mahito wakes up in the parakeet kitchen, the chef is gleefully preparing to cook him. It’s almost as if he expected Mahito to celebrate the fact too, but regardless the parakeet doesn’t care about the massacre of others because the victims will serve their regime. Someone I know has a more personal reading of this scene, and they connect it to how, historically, oppressors would celebrate their atrocities as some great deed while the oppressed watched and suffered. The parakeets only cared about their own “greater cause”

Ive seen people also say that the parakeets are stand-ins for the Japanese fascists, German fascists, or human fascists in general—but whatever the specifics may be, the parakeets do seem to represent fascism.

Maybe when the parakeets escaped the underworld and turned into normal birds, it’s their wish being fulfilled: they’ve become their ancestors they glorified so much. They returned to the “great mythic past,” but as it turns out, the “great mythic past” is a great big lie, and probably different from the glory they imagined.

Alternatively, they coveted the peace and simplicity of their ancestors, but they were trying to achieve that through violent and militaristic means, and felt justified in doing so

Alternatively, the parakeets like the pelicans were trapped into this fantasy world, and forced to play roles to parallel the wars of humanity. When they finally escaped, both they and Mahito are free to live as themselves in the real world.

Maybe I’m wrong about some details or missed something, but yeah, that’s where “bloodthirsty parakeet satirical et cetera” came from

#the boy and the heron #how do you live #parakeet #parakeet king #spoilers #hayao miyazaki #studio ghibli #ask box #analysis

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cinemaocd · 1 month ago

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Star Wars films ranked in order of their technical innovations:

Star Wars (1977): innovations: motion controlled cameras, immersive sound design, high tech puppets, unified aesthetic that was unique from prev. sci fi films, welded fantasy and sci fi together, brought back vista vision/wide screen technology from the scrap heap and updated it, iconic costumes based on actual military equipment and historic royalty rather than imagining a "futuristic fashion," created Industrial Light and Magic effects company which funded R&D to create new cameras and equipment for the film, used percentages of the film's profit to pay actors and others involved in the project.

The Phantom Menace (1999): The first all digital studio film, computer graphics used for backgrounds/sets/whole environments, extended motion control cameras with digital environment, fucking amazing costumes borrowing from period films and classic Hollywood to bring the universe into a more sumptuous plentiful past, motion capture used to create integrated digital puppets.

Empire Strikes Back (1980): stop motion animation updated to include the motion controlled cameras for more realistic/seamless animation (compare to Harryhausen's Clash of the Titans which came out the next year to see what I mean), Lucas used the profits of Star Wars to expand ILM and give it a permanent home where effects artists weren't working in sweatshop conditions anymore, created a licensing company to try to stem the tide of unlicensed Star Wars products, a fire on the set of The Shining at Elstree studios lead to a dedicated Star Wars stage being built there which is still used to this day.

Return of the Jedi (1983): steadicam which was relatively new tech, customized by the inventor for the speeder bike chases, created THX to try to improve sound equipment in theaters because the sound mix for the film was too complex for the old sound systems used during test screenings.

The Force Awakens (2015):pulled back from the maximalist aesthetic of the prequels using more real sets, environments and models thereby creating a cohesive look that fused the two previous trilogies, made the film without having a clear outline about where the trilogy was going, giving freedom to future filmmakers to make changes to the story or to fill in holes, (not necessarily a good thing, but it was the first time it was done for a blockbuster trilogy), recreated most of the story beats of Star Wars (1977) in the updated sequel.

The Last Jedi (2017): Contains the most practical effects of any Star Wars film, with the most sets and creatures ever built for the franchise, literally set canon on fire, leaving writers and directors free to create Star Wars product that doesn't fit with previous canon/continuity.

Clone Wars (2008): First fully animated film in Star Wars universe, was the pilot for the TV show, integrated materials from the star wars Expanded Universe comics and novels.

Rogue One (2018): Used digital technology to allow Peter Cushing and Carrie Fisher, who had died, to appear in the film by digitally combining their faces onto the bodies of other actors, first attempt to create a "gritty" Star Wars that reflected more of the reality of war, final scene with Darth Vader creeated 100% digitally.

Revenge of the Sith (2005): Lucas used a three camera set up and combined all three digitally, which allowed a much faster turn around time for completing shots, held the world record at the time of the most effects shots ever in a film.

Attack of the Clones (2002): continued with the innovations of Phantom Menace, creating the first entirely virtual film studio (for example some of Ewan McGregor's work was filmed on the Moulin Rouge sets with the actor in an entirely different location than the rest of the people in the scene, fewer models and real sets in general.

Solo A Star Wars Story (2018): used effects techniques such as rear projection and stop motion animation from the OT, but cleaned them up in the digital environment. For the first time used an effects company in addition to ILM.

Rise of the Skywalker (2019) Returned effects to the province of ILM, but the film was produced by Bad Robot, JJ Abrahams company (All the other films either produced by Lucasfilm or Disney).

#the most controversial thing on here is placing TFA up so high #and it's because I think they fought back the urge to just make everything busier and returned to an aesthetic closer to the first one #which wasn't an innovation so much as accepting that WETA workshop had cleaned their clocks in the early 2000s by combining #CGI with practical effects in a more seamless way and them saying ok let's do that but with disney money #And I think TLJ took that mandate and ran with it and there are some breathtaking sequences like the battle on the salt planet #and the space rhino romp through the mega casino #that were just next level #the best bits Attack of the Clones are ripped off from Blade Runner and The Fifth Element and it's like yeah they took the ideas #those better films had and expanded them with technology but in a way they made them worse? So that's not an innovation that's vandalism #Rise of the Skywalker and Solo feel very much at the level of Disney plus...really great for the small screen #like if it were a TV show I'd be willing to forgive it more...like a lot of it reminds me of the Mandalorian or the Obi Wan show #Star Wars #this was really inspired by watching the series on ILM that's on Disney Plus #which is fantastic and I've learned so much about the making of star wars that makes me admire it and george lucas even more...

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clumsiestgiantess · 6 months ago

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Honestly I don’t feel like finishing the October horror prompts stuff right now…

BUT I have this one short story saved from a while ago that I do really like, and I want y’all to have it! Enjoy!

It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of thing, being copied. It’s little snapshots taken from your life — less than a second of living that gets bottled up as information and stored in some vault deep underground. A security measure, world leaders decided, for when the planet inevitably comes to an end.

…whenever that will be.

The war ended before the threat of nuclear extinction became reality. All those years of people scrambling to get implants that would preserve them after death, all the times people had fought with money and power over who would be saved and who wouldn’t — and now you can do it for free.

For a long time, the servers inside the Humanity Vaults went untouched. Without a fear of mass death lurking in the air, no one was willing to take the information back out once it was stored. People went on living, kept getting implants and snapshots to give themselves the chance to get another life at the end of theirs. Or several.

Just like those desperate rich people who froze themselves to be revived when technology caught up with their ideas, so it seems all of society would do the same — their lives copied and stored until someone found a way to revive them. And that someone, or rather something was SLT. Simulated Life Technology. It gave the digital information a virtual body, processing things a brain, nerves, and hormones normally would through a simulation.

Unfortunately, people were expecting physical bodies and actual brains, not simulations. So the technology flopped.. until a video game company picked it up. People became obsessed with their games due to how real the characters seemed. It was artificial intelligence trained with real, lived-through, human thought.

That’s where things finally begin, with a program — a game — that lets you simulate running the life of an actual person right on your laptop.

I’d heard about the game before, but never played it myself. There was no end goal, no story, just some fake person wandering around a screen. It just didn’t seem interesting to me. So it was all the more jarring when I went from reaching for the gym doors one morning to stretching an arm into an endless void of white.

I shrieked at the sudden change, and didn’t stop shrieking as I found no exit to the place — pounding on walls I couldn’t see. I finally ran out of breath when I turned around and saw the glassy wall of a theater-sized computer screen behind me — some guy staring me down from the other side, mouse in hand and keyboard at the ready.

Choking for breath, I stumbled backwards and fell on my ass. “N-No,” I managed to squeak out. I could barely put two and two together as I increasingly got closer to a panic attack, but once I hit the back wall dreaded realization tinged the back of my mind.

It’s supposed to be a simulated me.. not… me me. Only it isn’t me. I’m probably still at the gym. I’m sure the original me didn’t even notice.

Wait.. so simulations actually have a consciousness!?

“HELP! Please! There’s been a mistake! Simulations aren’t supposed to be actually alive! No one said these stupid computer people were conscious!” I rushed to the glass to bang on it and demand my release, but was immediately deterred by the very large form of a person reaching for me. I yelped and ducked down expecting to be snatched up, but his finger only tapped the screen.

In seconds, soft carpet seems to grow up from beneath the floor, and a little living room takes form all around me. A table pops up from the floor; a shelf slides in from the wall to my right. Something bright bubbles into existence behind me and I find a window on the opposite wall.

A window! I race across the room and try desperately to open it and escape that way, but even when I do I find a fake landscape lit up on the wall behind it. The sudden and jarring lack of exits sends me stumbling backwards, staring blankly at the false background. Oh fuck, this really is a computer. How am I inside a-?

“Hello?”

I flinch so badly I trip on my leg and nearly fall to the floor again. My hands slam over my ears as he speaks again. “Sorry, I don’t think my mic was on. Why are you- oh! I turned the volume up all the way when it was off, my bad.” There’s a brief pause of blissful silence. “Is this better?” I look up at the collosal stranger with tears in my eyes, but they either don’t notice or don’t care.

“Alright, first things first…” he mumbles, “Let’s get your sanity bar back up.” My legs weaken and I have to brace myself on the fake couch beside me in the fake room. “What.. do you mean?” I ask in a shaking whisper. “You know, your little hunger, hydration, and sanity bars? Ohh wait this is probably a tutorial.” He shrugged off the interaction so nonchalantly it made goosebumps lift across my arms.

Glancing around the room, I try to find the stats he’s talking about, but all I can see are structures and furniture. They’re all nearly real, save for the slight pixelated fuzz on the very edges of everything. It’s like looking through a headset. My stats must only be visible to the player. The real person.

If it’s all fake — some video game — then… but I’m not some made-up character! I’m real! I- I have to be. Only real people can think like this, right? This is only supposed to be some simulated bullshit that draws on my memories, which I won’t even know they have. Not.. not another entire me. With shaking arms, I lift my hands up to my face.

They’re tinged with those same fuzzy pixels.

I’m not real. Wh- Why? Does real me know about this? I didn’t know about this. Are there OTHER me’s? How many times have I blinked and become a fake reconstruction?

“Woah!” I’m startled out of my thoughts by that guy — that player’s — voice. “Your sanity’s tanking! I know the intro said to ease you into it or your sanity would plummet, but I thought I did ease you into this place.” Before I can get a word in he gasps an ‘ohhh’. “My mic was muted! You didn’t hear me introduce myself! That’s probably why.”

I sneer involuntarily. Like introducing himself would’ve done anything to soften the blow of: I’m not real.

“Let’s try again; my name’s Sam, but-” He hesitates. “Just call me Sammy.” I turn to speak, but my mouth goes dry. What is my name? It can’t be Rhea. That’s whoever-is-still-out-there’s name. But who else would I be? I’m not supposed to be anyone else. “Rhea,” I answer abruptly. I don’t know what else to call myself.

“That’s a nice name!” “Do you think I’m real?” I blurt, then immediately regret it as he gives me a strange look. “I mean.. I just… I feel real. This isn’t real.” Sammy goes quiet for a moment, leaning in closer to the screen to look at me. I want to run away, but I hold my ground. There is a wall between us, after all.

“You feel real?” he repeats, “Well.. I mean, you are real — a real SL. But is that what you mean?” An SL, a Simulated Life, is that all I am? My head shakes in slow shock. “I guess you might feel like you’re whoever they took your life data from,” Sammy suggests, “But it’s.. kinda hard to believe you’re real when you’re a flashing image on my laptop.”

A sharp pain seizes my chest and I unsteadily fall onto the couch. It feels real, but it isn’t. And I’m the same.

“What do I do?” I ask quietly, more to myself than anything. Minutes tick by with my face buried in my hands before the feeling of a cold hand on my back sends me across the room screaming. “What the-?!” “Sorry!” Sammy calls before I can go into a full panic, “I meant to pat you on the back. You know.. like: ‘it’s going to be ok’?” He sighs, “I’ve never been good with people.”

I rub my hands over my arms and cautiously peer around the couch. “What was that?” “My clicker,” he admits, as I watch him move around a mouse outside the screen. I can feel my mouth drop open, “You can interact with all this?” He nods as I gesture around the place. “That’s just unfair! You can at least let me have this space to myself!”

“But how will you get food?” Sammy asks me earnestly. “Your hunger bar’s at half by the way.” The second he points it out I realize I’m feeling hungry, but I don’t bring it up. “What? I’ll get it out of this mini fridge right here.” However, as I walk over and pull at the handle, it doesn’t open. I grab it and rattle it around a few times, but it doesn’t open. “I.. I can't…”

“I’m pretty sure only the player can make meals,” Sammy tells me, as calmly as if he were making a passing comment on the weather. “So I’m what? Helpless?! You’re supposed to feed me?!” Sammy leans away from the screen looking wildly confused. “That’s like the whole point of the game… I’m supposed to take care of you and level up stuff by treating you well.”

I just stare at him.

“What..? I- I thought you would at least know that.” I don’t even go back to the couch; I just crumple to the floor. “Wait, you just started getting your sanity back up!” Sammy gasps, “Don’t drop it back down! I’ll take care of you! I’m not like those video game nerds who try to find all the special dialogue by starving their SLs or doing a sleepless run. I just wanted to…” He pauses and his cheeks flush, which actually startles me out of my raw horror of learning that I — or any of the potential other me’s — could be tortured like those examples.

“You wanted to what?” I ask hesitantly. Sammy looks at me. Like really looks at me — leaning close against the monitor. I freeze as the invisible hand of the clicker carefully turns me around, then back. His irises flicker all over me, and I realize I’m still in slightly revealing gym wear.

Worriedly, I take a few steps back. All sorts of media with online digital girlfriends start flooding into my head. “You wanted to what?” I ask weakly. Sammy glances at his door, gets up, and locks it. Fear causes the blood to feel like it’s being drained out of my body.

“Please don’t do that shit to me,” I beg, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “Not on the first day. Please.”

Sammy’s face scrunches up in bewilderment before his eyes widen in realization. “Wait, what? No! No, I don’t want to do anything like that! I just… You’re just… You’re supposed to be me,” he eventually spits out. “The uh.. character traits I put in — they’re mine but — ok, actually I put in a lot more confidence too — but it’s supposed to be me, just.. a girl.”

Ohhh.

“So all the secrecy and the blushing and the-” “I- I’m not blushing!” he gasps. “That’s.. I- You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” I sigh, just relieved my initial impression was completely wrong. “Of course not. I can’t exactly tell anyone from in here, can I?” “I guess you can’t,” Sammy realizes.

I sit back down heavily on the coffee table in the room, facing Sammy. “So I’m.. I'm really an SL? All these memories, they’re just what was uploaded to the Humanity Vault?” My nerves get fuzzy as Sammy’s head finally moves away from the screen. “Oh.. yeah, I guess. I didn’t realize you had all those memories. No wonder you feel human — that’s all you can remember.” He blinks, “That’s kinda fucked-up, actually.”

Those are all things that were placed in me from the start — I never lived through them. The only memories I’ve made myself so far are the ones when I’m in here. “And that’s why there was such an abrupt cut between being outside the gym to being in here!” I realize, slowly piecing together what exactly I am, “That’s where my uploaded memories end and my actual ones start.”

In a weird way, it gave me comfort recognizing all this. I actually know what I am and why I’m here. Even if it isn’t what I wanted or thought it would be, at least everything makes sense.

“Hey, your sanity bar’s rising again,” Sammy noted. “Kinda weird that it happened when you found out you’re not a person, though…” I nod slowly, looking up at him. “I think the recognition helps. I.. might not be a person, or actually alive, but I feel that way. All of this-” I gesture around the vaguely pixelated room — running my hand over the coffee table. “It feels physically real to me.” “So you.. you feel better about it now? You’re ok?” I begin to nod, then hesitate. “Better, but I’m still not feeling all that great about being some video game character for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll make sure it’s a place you want to stay in, or at least not mind it,” Sammy assures me, “And at a certain level I can add another apartment with another SL! That way you won’t be too lonely while I’m not playing.” I hadn’t even thought about that — about what happens when a player logs off and leaves me here alone, or the fact that I can cure that loneliness by dooming some other poor soul to a simulated life forever.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I tell him hesitantly. “I think I just need to take some time to calm down.” A microwave meal floats out of the mini fridge as if by magic, but I notice Sammy’s arm moving and I realize it’s the invisible clicker again. “I don’t know if I’m up for a meal right now,” I tell him tiredly, “I really just want to rest.”

His eyes dart to the corner of the screen. “Your hunger bar says otherwise.” I grumble slightly, “Well I say I’m not hungry.” A prepared meal rests itself on the coffee table on the opposite side of me. “I’ve gotta go soon, so I’ll just leave it here.” I stand up abruptly, suddenly aware that I’d be stuck sitting here without the ability to do anything. “Wait! Just do a few things for me before you leave?”

Sammy looks at me confusedly, then leans closer to the screen again and peers around the room. “There should be a manual or something… A new one appears with every update I make. It should have a list of things you can do and how to access them.” “So there’s a whole list of things I can do.. and getting myself basic necessities isn’t on it?”

The entire wall of the monitor flickers and molds into the final wall of the room in only a second or two. I rush to it, suddenly desperate for someone to talk to. “Wait! No, please come back! I still need-” It flicks back on just as quickly. “Woah! I- I’m not going anywhere; I’m just pulling up a different tab to check what you can do on the first level.” I pause about a foot from the screen. He looked a hell of a lot bigger that close — the monitor only displaying me at a tiny size that would fit the whole room and me on it. “O- Ok,” I stammer, stunned to silence by how small I felt right then.

I was left alone for a moment as the wall slid back in. This is how it’ll feel like for me for the next… Until the game gets booted up again. There’s a point when you play any game that you get bored of it and shut it off for the last time. What would happen to me then? I didn’t want to imagine it, but my brain slipped in a couple of thoughts about perpetually starving and being forced to stay awake for maybe forever.

Hopefully I’d end up like a forgotten tamagotchi and just die.

When Sammy returned, I found out that — on the base level — I couldn’t do much of anything at all. The player can’t even buy items for me to interact with yet. All I can do is walk around and sit in different places.

“And how do you get fake game money again?” I ask tiredly. “Well, you can pay real money for it, but you get paid some every in-game day. The amount depends on the level, and there are bonuses I can get for completing different tasks and an extra reward if all your bars are full before the day ends.” Damn, I really am a video game character.

After getting me a few cups of water that I could drink from whenever I wanted, Sammy closed the game and I was left in my single room with a coffee table and an empty bookshelf. Oh, and a pullout couch I can’t turn into a bed, a sink I can’t use, and a mini fridge I can’t open.

There’s one window, one lightbulb that has no switch, and no door. I’m utterly trapped here, but there’s nowhere else for me to run to even if I do manage to get out. If I leave this little game, I stop existing. And honestly, I’m not sure if I want to stay and suffer or leave and stop existing. It’s not like I have a choice, anyway.

I wandered the entire room to be sure, but there really wasn’t a single exit. The only thing that would open for me was the stupid fake window. Sitting down heavily on the couch, I curled up against myself and cried.

#Imagine going about your day only to blink and end up behind a computer screen with no way out…#Clipped into the backrooms only it’s digital and everything is being controlled by someone else #g/t #giant/tiny #<- kinda g/t I mean everything looks small on a screen

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pjsk-story-summaries · 1 year ago

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Wonderlands x Showtime Main Story Summary

TL;DR: Tenma Tsukasa, an egotistical aspiring actor, auditions for a cast member position at Phoenix Wonderland. He is picked up by Otori Emu, an optimistic dreamer, at the run-down Wonder Stage. They encounter the mysterious director Kamishiro Rui performing alone within the park, who upon invitation into the troupe also brings along his shy childhood friend Kusanagi Nene.

The four of them work to put on a show, but disaster strikes when Robonene runs out of battery halfway through the show. Tsukasa yells at Nene out of frustration, sparking Rui to leave the troupe.

Tsukasa goes to the SEKAI to reflect, where he finds Usa-chan, one of the plushies, crying. Through his attempts to cheer her up, he finally remembers the true reason he wanted to be a star: to make others smile, especially his dear younger sister.

Tsukasa apologizes to Emu and Nene, who both decide to rejoin the troupe; however, Rui is not convinced. The three of them put on a new show in the SEKAI that ultimately causes Rui a change of heart, officially re-forming Wonderlands x Showtime.

Official English Youtube upload / Song (The World Hasn't Even Started Yet) / Animation

Chapter 0: The story begins with Tsukasa narrating about the show he had seen as a little kid with Saki, sparking his dream to be a star that makes everybody smile. After a hard cut to the present day, we find Tsukasa preparing for an audition at Phoenix Wonderland. Saki comes up to talk to him, which eventually reaches her asking why he wanted to become a star in the first place. Tsukasa can't remember. Suddenly, his phone flashes with the new Untitled song, transporting him to SEKAI. Miku and KAITO introduce themselves and the place, but Tsukasa denies it all.

Chapter 1: Tsukasa arrives at his interview. He introduces himself with his standard stardom speech, shocking the interviewers but catching the ear of a certain onlooker. A short time later, Tsukasa receives his acceptance letter with arrogant pride. Both Rui and Nene overhear him talking to himself about it, but don't interact. Kigurumi (Mascot) leads Tsukasa over to the Wonder Stage, much to the latter's disappointment. Suddenly, Emu leaps down from the rooftop and reveals she's the one who invited Tsukasa.

Chapter 2: Emu had specially requested Tsukasa after he failed the initial audition. Tsukasa is less than impressed with the current state of the run-down stage and lack of an audience. He tries giving Emu his autograph before leaving, but Emu tackles him instead, saying she had made a promise to do shows at this stage specifically. Suddenly, the stage projector switched on to reveal Miku. When trying to call and resign, Emu finds Untitled and clicks it, sending the both of them to SEKAI.

Chapter 3: Tsukasa encounters Mikudayo, who soon reveals herself to be the actual Miku. She pushes him into the show tent, where KAITO and Emu are preparing for a show. The Virtual Singers explain the concept of SEKAI. Tsukasa insists he knows what his true feelings are, but the Virtual Singer's aren't so convinced. Usa-chan, a talking stuffed rabbit, also introduces herself. Tsukasa panics and passes out.

Chapter 4: After regaining consciousness, Tsukasa demands to leave the SEKAI. Emu promises to help find Tsukasa's phone only if he promises to do shows at the Wonder Stage with her, to which he reluctantly agrees. Back in the real world, Kigurumi attacks Tsukasa for "kidnapping" Emu, intimidating him to the point where he fears going back on his word to help her out. Tsukasa and Emu then set off to find more cast members. They find some small robots, who lead the pair to Rui's performance.

Chapter 5: Rui begins telling the tale of an alchemist who loves theater. However, his story is cut short by Security chasing him out. The next day, Tsukasa learned the strange performer is a new transfer to his school. Rui had been waiting for him on the rooftop, following his movements with a drone. Impressed, Tsukasa offers him a spot in his new troupe as director. Rui declines.

Chapter 6: Rui explains that he wants to do the shows he wants to do, ones that exist to make the audience happy. Tsukasa affirms that he'd perform any role given to him "to 12,000% satisfaction". Rui catches a glimpse of Nene walking down below. He decides to accept the offer, if and only if Tsukasa would take one other member. Later, Tsukasa takes Rui to the Wonder Stage and introduces him to Emu. The two instantly hit it off.

Chapter 7: Rui introduces the other two to Robonene. Tsukasa is hesitant on the concept, but after Nene's display of skill, he reluctantly agrees to accept her in (though he's more worried of losing the limelight than anything else). Afterwards, Rui and Nene chat about the new adventure in front of them.

Chapter 8: Tsukasa and Saki chat. When things take a melancholy turn, Tsukasa begins reciting script lines to cheer her up. Saki thanks him and talks about how he always used to do shows like this when they were little, especially with a small bunny plushie. The next day, Tsukasa brings the rest of the troupe the newly completed show script, along with a proposal for a troupe name. It was bad and immediately shot down. Through Emu's ramblings, Rui suggests naming their troupe after the different worlds the stage can become through showtime. Emu adds an x to represent the multiplying wonderlands, giving birth to Wonderlands x Showtime.

Chapter 9: Rui runs over the script with everyone and suggests some extreme stunt ideas, much to Tsukasa's horror. Nene tells Emu about Rui's history with this, and how most people avoided him afterwards. Despite the outlandish ideas, Tsukasa and Emu warm up to them. Later, Nene comments on how much happier Rui looks now. The next day, the troupe works together on the show. Emu suggests going to "that place" to look for inspiration and sends the four of them to SEKAI.

Chapter 10: Rui immediately begins analyzing the SEKAI and wanders off. KAITO gives Tsukasa and Emu advice while Miku greets the real Nene hiding somewhere else. Nene's too shy to have a conversation, however. Before the four leave SEKAI, Miku again questions what being a star means to Tsukasa, who's true feelings are still unknown.

Chapter 11: Wonderlands x Showtime finishes rehearsals for their show. Emu thanks Tsukasa and the others for performing shows with her here at this stage. Rui and Nene stay late to rehearse a little longer. The next day arrives, and the show begins.

Chapter 12: The play starts off as a hit! Halfway through Nene's song, however, Robonene loses power and crashes into Tsukasa. They try their best to recover, but any momentum they had gained was lost. The play was ruined.

Chapter 13: Tsukasa lashes out at Nene for the mistake. Rui tries taking the blame instead, while Emu desperately tries keeping the peace. Despite Rui's insistence, Tsukasa continues his outrage. Nene runs off. Rui tells Tsukasa that "you can't stage great shows alone", and that Tsukasa's selfishness means he will never become a star. Rui officially quits the troupe. Later, Rui goes to apologize to Nene for making her join the troupe. Tsukasa goes to the SEKAI for advice.

Chapter 14: Tsukasa runs into Usa-chan crying. Though his dance only made things worse, he managed to distract her by immitating Emu's wonderhoy. He spins it to form an improv play and invites Usa-chan to join along, to which she happily agrees. After playing for some time, Tsukasa notices the name "Saki" written under her foot. Tsukasa finally realizes the SEKAI is full of things from his memories, and a memory of him cheering up a sick Saki in a hospital room. Tsukasa finally remembers his true wish to make others happy, and how grateful he is to have met the other members of Wonderlands x Showtime. Tsukasa resolves to set things right with them.

Chapter 15: Tsukasa finds Emu by the ferris wheel, so they ride together. Emu tells Tsukasa about how her grandfather had built Phoenix Wonderland and the Wonder Stage specifically, but had sadly passed away a year prior. Emu's family would save the Wonder Stage if Emu managed to attract enough visitors by the end of spring break, but since their show only made everyone sad, she'll have to say goodbye to it. Tsukasa tells Emu that she's a part of everyone needing to be happy and asks if they can try to save the stage one more time. Back at the Wonder Stage, Nene went to retrieve Robonene and reminisces on how much she'll miss theater again.

Chapter 16: Emu and Tsukasa find Nene singing on the stage. Nene runs away, causing the two to chase her around the park. After Emu catches her by jumping from a gate, Tsukasa formally apologizes for what he said and asks if she would want to rejoin the troupe. Nene tells the two about how she had messed up the lines of her performance when she was young and became too anxious to stand on the stage anymore. Tsukasa tells her that making mistakes is how we get better, and that he's truly sorry for yelling at her for trying to learn. Nene officially rejoins the troupe.

Chapter 17: Nene reveals she and Rui are neighbors and takes the two to meet him. They find him continuing the story of the alchemist on the street: the alchemist had found acceptance through their shows, though short-lived. The townsfolk and alchemist simply thought differently, so they left, leaving the alchemist all alone once again. Tsukasa tries to apologize to Rui, but he doesn't believe he's changed yet and leaves. Emu and Nene don't want to give up on him, either.

Chapter 18: Rui walks around the streets, remembering the fear and harsh words of his past classmates over his show ideas. Suddenly, Emu, Tsukasa, and Nene ambush him and send them all to SEKAI. They begin a play made specially for him. A traveling troupe consisting of an arrogant showman, stubborn clown, and shy songstress meet a lonely alchemist and invite him to the troupe. The alchemist builds a doll for the songstress to sing behind and other inventions. However, when the doll broke during a show, the showman lashed out and broke apart the troupe. A cute fairy had reminded the showman of his true desire to make people happy through shows, driving him to make ammends with the rest of his troupe. Though the clown and songstress agreed to come back, the alchemist didn't believe him. The three decided to make a play to show him their true feelings. KAITO asks Rui what he thinks will happen next, to which he questions if they thought this would really work through just a monologue. Fortunately, the alchemist is now here to help them improve.

Chapter 19: Suddenly, Tsukasa's phone flashes as Untitled changes into a song: The World Hasn't Even Started Yet. Tsukasa asks if the others would sing it with him, since the song is just as much theirs as it is his own. Afterwards, he thanks Miku and KAITO for their help before returning to the real world. Emu finally tells the others about the fate of the Wonder Stage, but they realize there's still hope to save it. They put their show back together and begin saving the stage once again with an enthusiastic wonderhoy!

Chapter 20: All of their remaining shows went spectacularly, even though they had to do so many in a row. Their efforts had paid off, however; the Wonder Stage was officially saved! Wonderlands x Showtime decides to keep putting on shows there, too. The story ends with Emu and Tsukasa's laughter echoing in the distance, all the way into SEKAI.

Card Stories: Tsukasa / Emu / Nene / Rui

Virtual Singer Chapter 1 (Pre-Chapter 0): Miku, KAITO, and the plushies prepare a show to help Tsukasa remember his true feelings. Miku runs off to put on the Mikudayo costume to match with the plushies. There's one of KAITO, too, but he refuses to put it on. Tsukasa finally arrives in the SEKAI, but Miku is now stuck in the Mikudayo costume.

Virtual Singer Chapter 2 (After Chapter 4): Miku is disappointed she couldn't put on a show with Tsukasa and Emu, so to cheer her up, KAITO puts on a magic show for her. KAITO teaches Miku some magic tricks after. Miku is a bit sad that the show has to end, but KAITO reminds her that without an ending, there can be no beginning.

Virtual Singer Chapter 3 (Concurrent with Chapter 14): Usa-chan is upset Tsukasa didn't remember her. Miku and KAITO decide to put on a show to cheer her up, but it doesn't work to well. Tsukasa arrives in the SEKAI halfway through, but before the Virtual Singers can greet him, they find a crying Usa-chan already talking to him. Miku goes to help, but KAITO stops her, opting to watch things play out instead.

Virtual Singer Chapter 4 (After Chapter 20): Wonderlands x Showtime goes to SEKAI to thank the Virtual Singers for their help, and to ask if they could watch one of their shows for inspiration. They decide to put one on in the flying train. Emu and Miku fall out the window, so Tsukasa, KAITO, Rui, and Nenerobo save them.