#also guess whose colors look different on their main monitor again

[saberdramon]

I'm not alright, I'm not alright I'm really not up for the fight

[votederpycausemufins]

I promise you by the end of this chapter, both of the bots are being held in the arms of someone. who those people are... uhhh well you better read the chapter. it is definitely no one bad.

@petrichormeraki @helleborusangel

Tubbo struggled against the ropes that tied them to a chair. He had been put in a room with someone else, but it was still too dark to see. He wasn’t sure if Ranboo was still there, but Tubbo was face to face with the screen that matched Dream’s mask. With the bright light, it was hard to distinguish the rest of the form from the dark room, but Tubbo could just make out the shape of the body. 

From the short time he had known the pair of bots, he was pretty sure this was Grumbot. He tried to say something, but the cloth in their mouth made it tough. Still, he watched as the screen tilted from the robot tilting its head, so Tubbo tried again. He kept repeating a single word over and over until it was understood, then the robot moved and suddenly Tubbo was squinting their eyes as the room filled with light.

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but when they did, he finally got a good look at the robot. A large crack was on the screen with a dent near it on the monitor. There were also similar dents on other places of the robot’s body. The buttons that had been on the robot’s chest had been torn out and the light next to them was also cracked. There were three holes in a line on the robot’s side where something had pierced it, sparks occasionally appearing through them. Finally, the normally clean body was covered with burn marks and mud and other things.

Tubbo couldn’t help but feel sad for him. Obviously he’d been stuck with Dream and the admin hadn’t been caring for the bot. And that made Tubbo’s heart hurt. He had listened to Dream and ended up exiling Tommy just when they had all come up with a different plan. He had been so upset at Techno for what he had done that he ended up leaving Tommy to something like this. It was a miracle he was even willing to still be around Tubbo.

The sound of a snort made Tubbo look around. He couldn’t tell the source, but there was the sound of cloven hooves lightly clopping on the ground and moving closer. Tubbo smiled sadly when Michael finally came into view, then tilted his head as the ziglin grabbed Grumbot’s arm. Grumbot turned to look at Michael, who was spooked a little and pulled away with a squeal to hide behind the chair Tubbo was stuck in.

Tubbo wanted to comfort Michael, but couldn’t really move to do that. He tried pulling against the ropes again, but then paused as the light from the screen flickered in front of him. He watched as the image was changing to how the bot’s face normally looked, like he was trying to get back to normal, but eventually the screen was back to just a smile. Still, that alone gave Tubbo some hope for the bot. He tried a bit more, and it started to feel like one of the bindings was coming a little loose. He started focusing on that one arm, but then froze when something touched it. A small snort then came from the same area and Tubbo was able to watch out of the corner of his eye as Michael used a toy sword to help cut the ropes. Since it was a toy and not that sharp, it took a bit, but finally the rope snapped.

Tubbo was glad to have their arm free and pulled out the fabric gagging their mouth. Once it was gone, he pulled Michael into a one armed hug. “Good job Michael! I’m sorry I was gone so long. I’m sure you missed me.”

Tubbo talking seemed to get someone’s attention, because now the person in the other chair was moving, muffled noises coming from them. “Can you try to help them out too?”

Michael nodded and went over to the other person as Tubbo continued to free themself. Once he was, he went over to help Michael with the other person, who Tubbo instantly recognized. They were easily able to get the ropes off Tommy, but instead of a cloth or rope preventing him from speaking, a metal shackle of sorts was covering his mouth. “Sorry, I don’t think we can easily get that off.”

Tommy nodded in understanding before looking over to Grumbot, Tubbo following his gaze. The robot was still just standing there, having done nothing to prevent them escaping. “Tommy, I don’t want to leave Michael here and I’m not sure I can lift Grumbot. Can you carry him?”

Tommy nodded and attempted to pick the robot up, but he was met with it pulling an axe out and attacking him. A muffled yell came from Tommy and Tubbo pulled him back. “Okay, not picking him up then. But I don’t want to just leave him here.”

Tommy held up some of the discarded rope and formed it into a lead. He held it up to Tubbo as a suggestion, making Tubbo reluctantly nod. “I guess that could work, though I wish we had a better option.”

Tubbo helped tie the rope around Grumbot’s waist and then let Tommy have the other end of the rope before picking Michael up. “I’ll message the others that we have him.”

Tommy nodded and Tubbo pulled out their communicator to send a message. He was almost done with it when someone spoke, making him pause. “I. W-w-w-want. M-my. D-bzzt.” Tubbo looked up, seeing that the voice had been Grumbot, whose face was currently back to it’s mustachey self.

“Your dads? We’re trying, don’t worry.” Tubbo attempted to comfort the bot by patting him, but Grumbot just flinched away and Tubbo pulled their hand back. He then finished up the message and sent it. “Let’s go. I’m sure Grian will see it in a moment.”

Dead plants were strewn about and anything the red plants weren’t touching were instead coated in a thin layer of mycelium. Everyone was injured enough that they lay on the ground from the wounds. The person who got them to that state was currently staring up at the red egg-shaped plant in the corner of the cavern, blade in hand. “Were it under any other circumstance, I may have said yes, but a mother protects her children.”

The sword was stabbed into the egg a multitude of times until the attacker was absolutely sure it was dead. Around them, the people who had been affected by the egg seemed to be coming out of a bit of a daze. Bad sat up, rubbing his head and opened an eye to see the egg killer in front of him. They bent down and then stood back up holding Jrumbot. “This is mine.”

“Wh-Hey! You still can’t just take him like that!”

“Hmm, I assumed your care for him was simply due to the control of the plant. I see I assumed wrong.” They brushed a hand over the remaining vines on Jrum. “Hmm, these will be removed after he has woken up and I can see how he is doing. I wouldn’t want them to have taken a host.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There is a chance the plant may try keeping itself alive through the plants growing within this child. It should not be too much of a problem to remove once they have awoken. But that will require waiting.”

“Wait, so are you one of Jrum’s parents?” The demon spoke and slowly stood up. “Why are you only getting here now?”

“As far and the child is concerned, I am not, and yet am. The one I use as a host is one of their parents. We have a reluctant alliance as we both want to protect. However, I cannot do much more than this, so the spores from my mycelium will not cause you any trouble.”

The demon looked over at the dead egg. “How did you kill it without getting yourself killed?”

“It was weak. The host I have taken is very strong. A lineage of death and Watchers trained as admin among other things. It is disappointing to see a child of such a person fall to an organism such as this. Now, the previous question of the delayed arrival. Time has been distorted and what was a few days has become a few months.” 

“That’s a thing that can happen?”

“Yes. It is more common of an occurrence than one may think.”

Then Jrum stirred before waking up with a slight yawn. “Dad?”

“Almost.”

Jrum looked up at the one holding him then frowned. “Oh… I was asking for my new dad.” And he crossed his arms.

“You must answer some questions first. First of all, are you able to change the color of your screen?”

“Yeah, but why would I?”

“Change it to blue, then you may change it back. This is simply a test.” Jrum rolled his digital eyes, but shifted everything to a blue hue before changing back. “Good. Now you are to ignore this threat, but if you hear a response to the threat, please inform me. Is that understood?”

“Why should I?”

Bad leaned over to make sure he could be seen by Jrum. “They’re just making sure you’re doing okay. Can you please tell them if you do?”

Jrum nodded and then the threat came, the grayish-purple of their eyes spreading out from the sockets. “If you still hold any control, you will come to regret it as you are infected from the inside out and you experience every minute bit of pain that you caused others even unintentionally.” Then the growth receded and they spoke again in a calmer voice. “Did you hear anything?”

Jrum shook his head. “No. Is that good or bad?”

“Very very good.” Bad answered, which made Jrum smile.

“I will be able to remove these remaining plants with little harm, but it may take a while and I will need to go dormant once more while they are killed.” Bad opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off. “I will return to remove the spores when they have completed their work. They would just cause more damage if they remained in a being such as this.”

“Alright, good to know.”

The main vines around Jrum’s antenna were pulled off and discarded to the floor. Then a kiss was pressed to the bot’s forehead before the grayish-purple color disappeared from the eyes and were replaced by Grian’s normal eyes. “Hoo boy, how much did I miss?” He looked around at all the dead flora. “My guess is a lot.”

“I’ve just gotten a message. Someone has found and recovered Grum. We should find them before the admin attempts to take him back once more.” Xannes spoke, having received the message with his helmet. “I’m attempting to as for- Hmm, that is concerning.”

Mumbo looked over to the hacker. “What’s wrong?”

“I received a message with their coordinates, but also their current predicted end coordinates. They were sent by a name of someone not in the group. Also their group includes Tommy, who is most definitely the one currently next to you in bed, meaning his hels version is there instead.”

“Can I ask who’s in the group?”

“The one to send the message is Tubbo. They say they are with Tommy, Grum, and someone by the name of Michael.”

“Can you stay here and watch over Tommy? One of us needs to stay and I-”

“Yeah yeah, go see your kid.”

Mumbo nodded and made sure Tommy was tucked in well before getting up and following the coordinates that had been messaged to him as well. He had absolutely no idea how much time he had, so he ran a bit before using his elytra to get into the air and hope to find the group.

He was getting to the point something had happened to them or he had missed them when Mumbo spotted the bright green of Tubbo’s shirt. He did his best not to crash while landing and then caught up to the group. “Hey! Tubbo! Grum!” Tubbo stopped walking to turn around meanwhile ‘Tommy’ started to move faster. “Hey! Get back here!”

Tubbo turned to look at Tommy trying to escape with Grumbot while the robot did nothing to struggle. He quickly set Michael down and ran forward to grab the rope around Grumbot and start pulling the other way. In a few moments, Michael was at Tubbo’s side attempting to help, though he had trouble actually grabbing the rope. When Mumbo reached them, he took his sword out and sliced the rope, causing everyone else to fall from the lack of tension.

“Tommy! Why were you trying to take Grum away?” Tubbo asked.

“Because that’s not Tommy. He’s currently unconscious in bed. This must be Theseus.”

“Oh.” Tubbo looked over at the copy whose eyes shifted back to a brown color. “Why were you trying to take Grum?” Theseus tapped the metal around his mouth. “Why didn’t you just ask earlier. Grum, are you able to take that off his mouth?”

Grum nodded and walked over to Theseus and hesitantly removed the shackle before his arm was grabbed by Theseus. “God that was easy. I’m trying to take him because I know Dream is after him, and this time I’m not letting any of you getting in the fucking way. Two times was enough.”

Mumbo started to move forward, but an axe was put to Grum’s neck. “Look, right now this is the only thing letting people respawn. If he dies, that won’t happen. So I wouldn’t move closer if I were you. Look, all I’m going to do is use this piece of scrap metal as bait and then get out of here with the admin, if you can even call him that anymore with this thing being the console. In fact, speaking of. I’m guessing it could just teleport him here. Can’t you?” Theseus looked down to Grumbot, who nodded. “Alright. Do it.”

Mumbo and Tubbo winced as some sparks flew out from Grumbot as he processed the request. In a few moments, Dream had appeared right in front of Theseus and he let go of the robot to grab him instead. “Finally! Took long enough!”

Mumbo immediately ran over to Grumbot and picked him up, holding him close. “Hey don’t worry. We’re going to get you home and fix you up.” Mumbo whispered comfortingly as the bot trembled in his arms.

Theseus smacked Dream with the dull part of his axe head, cracking the mask he wore and knocking the admin out. Theseus held Dream by the fabric of his hoodie, just letting him hang there. “Now I’m sure you want me out of here. Send me to the hels dimension of this place or else.”

Mumbo could feel as Grum stiffened up and some sparks shocked him, but a moment later Theseus and Dream were gone. The redstoner had hoped that once the admin and Grum were in different universes, it would help the bot, but he still looked the same, stiff and trying to remain emotionless. “Let’s get back to EX.”

[connerhmuu209]

Manage photos software

Manage photos software for everyone and also program to organize images for organize photos and even find duplicate photos

This computer software is an entire manage photos software suite, though it is just one what places that customer primarily, allowing to highlight your very most creative thoughts in as easy a manner as quite possible. Then again, our application is even uncomplicated to run even if anyone have actually never ever attempted utilizing application to modify this photos prior to. With our application software, people will efficiently change certain elements for example, find duplicate photos. Any of that problems every model digital photographer is usually met found at some part or maybe one more anytime picture shooting outdoor is obtaining the optimal light. Yet another major functionality this is normally added in the unique manage photos software is truly the image album creator which is absolutely simple to take. Anyone might select that within that side effect list of this manage photos software alongside additional choices a load of functions like find duplicate images. Each time you create tasks within manage photos software or even the post processing tool people are normally making use to their photographs. And so the minute they knew professional sort pictures I fell by that concept and guessed I will manage to work on the same. As with any kind totally useful manage photos program may be repaired working with such kinds standard features conveniently. The attribute has been included mainly for experienced freelance photographers and also publishers whose business involves developing and also arranging excellent quality material for their end users.

Besides the considerable image designing and also printing functionalities, their manage photos software provides countless very useful bundle producing usages and also allows for creating of collages via its own school designer. Though prior to people begin with this different opportunities of picture making, they create a quick control on this initial photograph, because the very important thing before the complete creating ceremony is generally the lighting. Undoubtedly many of them, as we started off, people did not actually know much concerning which was normally the thing and then people just tried pictures along with their smartphone and even compact camera and also submitted to the blogs. All of these techniques that make manage photos program stand apart from low quality program for picture generating can easily be find by means of that method's directory sub menu through the main display screen. Along with their manage photos software, extraordinary corrections or even enhancers are actually today simple by having that software program. In my digital photography, they commonly may desaturate our that this blacks anytime shooting in external areas with a lot of greenery comprising the scene just as may be found along with a load of weed, forests, hedges, and more. Unfortunately, this professional status computer handling strategies on offer are actually being the same fit to photograph artists, internet designers, photographers as well as celebration digital photographers.

Information about manage photos software for remove duplicate photos and organize photos with several great gadgets

Utilized by specialists to paint sections within the photos or even to transfer sections within an image out of a single place to another, our amazing function may support you to elevate our picture taking to a further stage. You be busy and create a small image set, handpicked amazing decor to get that good mood as well as go its own process step by step to that appropriate angle. Whenever people provide the people by having that natural images what are primarily faulty, that they will certainly not bring out that wished style, yet that manage photos software effects their goal to guarantee which you obtain superior quality photographs.

Everyone may likewise run their manage photos software to give your photographs a genuine crayon draw visual appeal. There actually should be literally someone else who has certainly brought in the equal gaffe with manage photos program and find out just where you are failing. The method is additionally very valuable to search a photograph mosaic or even an image collection with raising this 3-D style out of that photograph they are making manage photos software for Windows 10 corrections to.

If ever you fail to, soon after simply just press this Reverse key basically right hand area based on your monitor to head back a step or maybe 4. Our manage photos software giving my site visitors really interactive elements which includes photo correction, filters and also cover-ups. Manage photos software can provide much more assistance soon after it occurs the time to sort images a photograph album to illustrate our performance. In case there certainly are large parts at your photograph what they need to delete, anyone can easily take find duplicate pictures on top inside that menu functions to produce it more efficient.

Close to all is can do if you prefer to find photos along with our manage photos software. This is generally located through the bottom right hand part out of our monitor and it helps us to zoom inside or outside of that zone concerned.

Manage photos software the program to clean duplicate photos with several well-known features

Manage photos software for anyone and also tools to clean duplicate images for manage photos and manage duplicate photos

By having this manage photos software they can finish this sort pictures or even remove duplicate pictures simultaneously, and after that receive this last image to your desktop computer. Their manage photos software to get search photos everybody will furthermore select this manage pictures from a basic color scheme or select a coloration out of a dot actually upon display. My simplest usage to detect in case the color is off on a picture is actually to consider a thing what should be literally yellowish. That manage photos software is generally a complete photograph generating suite what is great for skilled image makers and even people what merely intend to organize our pictures seem greater with a little creating.

Assuming that the photo is extremely inclined, well then it looks like the object is heading to occur of the rack. Using it, people can certainly fabricate gift cards, produce a photograph portfolio or even put together a series about thumbnail pictures to get a record.

The minute they select one of the pictures feature like organize images, a new page will certainly appear with a sneak peek like just how this image could look right after handling. Which is actually your previous visualization process coming from the time they transfer your pictures on that personal computer till the moment you think about their picture completed. Pixel compression is actually to lower our picture elements for a picture to manage photos it much easier to keep, which might help make mean people drop brightness in a photo.

[expshared]

this season was kind of whack, but at least we had Eizouken

Heya Camp is just kind of a lazy reminder that Yuru Camp exists, and will continue to exist in the future. You remember these characters?? OK good, just making sure. That said, did I immediately feel the tension release in my entire body when I heard the OST? Duh. Did I sing “it’s coffee time” to the ending not knowing these were the incorrect lyrics? The entire time.

I don’t know what to do with Isekai Quartet because like, objectively, I should hate it. I do not enjoy like 2.5 of the shows involved, and the addition of Shield Hero was not a welcome one. Turns out it doesn’t matter anyway because it was just Isekai Quartet and also Naofumi is Sometimes Scowling in the Background and that’s about as much of him as I want to see anyway. And yet? I do enjoy this Disney Channel Original Crossover. There’s something inherently fun about watching these characters from disparate shows interact with each other, and no matter what the original stakes were in their respective series, they’re all just doing homework and getting part time jobs and that shit’s funny when a big skeleton man is doing it.

After its first episode, Asteroid in Love was kind of a slog. This is your typical seasonal CGDGT show, and apart from that, I really can’t think of anything to say about it. I didn’t learn anything about the Extremely Niche Topic these girls are doing, and it wasn’t even that gay. Disappointing. 

I was really looking forward to Toilet Bound Hanako-kun because I am a big fan of the source material, but I was pretty let down by this adaptation. It seems that they prioritized the art style and the color scheme above everything else, but that essentially just meant the entire project ended up being colored manga panels. I wanted to see them move around! There was not a single moment of animation that justified it being an anime. You might as well have been watching a PowerPoint. I can’t think of anything nice to say. Let’s move on. 

Bofuri is my power fantasy. I want to play a video game so cluelessly I break it into tiny pieces and bumble into being the most powerful player in the world’s nicest MMORPG. Maple turns powercreep into powersprint. What Bofuri lacks in character development or plot, it makes up for in outrageous Maple feats. She holds the entire world in the palm of her hand and she doesn’t even know it. She named her OP pet turtle Syrup and then turned into an alien abomination unknown to the world and went on a killing rampage. This anime was Maple Crossing Online. Love you, Maple. Wreck shit, Maple. 

If My Favorite Idol Got Into Budokan, I Would Die walks a thin line and what separates it from being a slobbering idol otaku engine preaching how Cool it is to Be an Otaku and an Idol Show Watamote is the fact that Eripiyo is a girl. That’s it. If you took her and replaced her with your average Joe Schmoe-san, this show would be insufferably creepy. Every time I was waiting for it to topple over, Jenga-like, it managed to right itself and straddle the tightrope. It’s not a particularly subtle piece of media, nor does it do what I was hoping it would do and engage in any sort of conversation about the obsessive nature of idol otakudom, but you know what it does a good job of doing? Portraying being an idol as a job. Just some adults putting on underground shows and selling the same CD of like two songs over and over again. I was also hoping it would address what happened to Eripiyo, maybe talk about why at the beginning she’s dressed like an office worker and apparently gives that all up to follow this kinda-shitty idol group, why this fanatic escapism is preferable, or even maybe address how gay it is? Not in the cards, though. Honestly Budokan was, despite itself, pretty enjoyable? There are some great background lesbians. Also can we talk about how consistently good the production values were on this show? Why did this have such great dance sequences? Why did this look better than Love “Has More Money Than God” Live? Actually no I take everything back this show was kind of just Idol Otaku Watamote

Hey, let’s talk about the other idol show airing this season: the completely unhinged 22/7. This show is Whack. This show operates on an entire different plane of reality. I know nothing about the actual band, so I came into this blind and oh my god. Hey guys, the plot of 22/7 is that a Wall tells some girls to form an idol unit.  A sentient Wall whose orders absolutely must be followed. Why? Dunno! What happens if you don’t follow its orders? Never elaborated on. (Actually, is this a reference to Pink Floyd? I have no fucking clue.) In any case these eight girls, summoned by a letter from the Wall, are all invited to become an idol group, and then they’re magically an idol group. It’s unclear how they become successful, how they book gigs, who’s keeping the lights on at the agency, how they’re getting paid, who HR is, how their gorilla man agent found this Wall and determined that all its directives Must Be Followed, but shit, man. What follows in 22/7 is a one-member-per-episode serial that quite frankly stumbles far more often than it succeeds. One girl’s grandma died and that’s why she came to Japan. One girl had a traumatizing experience where she got lost in the woods for a week and it broke her family apart and now things just suck forever. These things are equal. One poor girl’s entire episode was about how she didn’t want to put on a bathing suit for a photo shoot and how uncomfortable she felt about it, but in the end she was made to apologize for dragging her feet for so long and takes her photo for a pin up. Yuck. Gross. Bad. The only valid girl is Jun, end of discussion. None of this even holds a candle to the finale-- wherein the girls are directed by the Wall to disband, and, defying an order for the first time, the girls return to their agency and throw shit at the Wall until it breaks down. It’s revealed that the Wall isn’t supernatural-- behind it are tv monitors, photos of the girls as children, records of their activities. A person or people are behind this. Why??? Are they being groomed?? Is the Wall a metaphor for the Industry? I’m so concerned. The girls aren’t, though, because after a little side eyeing, they ascend a staircase and wow! A Stage! Our fans are all here for our reunion tour! And then they’re fine and I guess their idol group is back together or something? Did I mention the stage where they perform? It’s at a zoo. I can’t tell if this is the most scathing condemnation of idol culture I’ve ever watched or just completely oblivious. The characters don’t engage in any sort of thought about what they’re being put through, but they are performing their final song, the lyrics of which are about how life is just too hard to keep on living, at a zoo and I don’t think you can have that sort of thing happen unless you’re trying to make a point. Right??? RIGHT?!? Dance and sing, monkeys.

Smile Down the Runway was another show completely divorced from reality. So you got your main character, Chiyuki, whose thing is that she’s Too Short to Be a Model at her father’s very prestigious modeling agency. Which, like, is valid! Let’s see some variation in the modeling industry. Let’s shake it up. Let’s lead the charge for alternative models with bodies outside of the very narrow requirements of the fashion industry. What’s that, Chiyuki? You have no interest in that? You want to be a Hypermodel? I don’t know what that shit is, I think you made it up. Our other protagonist is Ikuto, the destitute, put upon, bobcut boy with a dying mother and 3 younger siblings who is trying to pursue his dream of becoming a fashion designer. Are you beginning to sense the problem here? There is a fundamental imbalance in the presentation of these characters’ goals and situations. Also? Emotions are at an eleven, always. Characters are always acting as if they’ve just seen someone get murdered in front of their eyes even when it’s like. There’s a messed up seam. They are constantly being mortified, crushed, and having their dreams ripped away. One time, two different assholes offered Ikuto magical mom-fixing blood money when he was struggling to come up with funds to pay off his medical debt at the cost of giving up his spot in the fashion show. Wildin’ 

Haikyuu didn’t exactly come in like a lion, but I’m sure it’ll be more organic upon rewatching. We were laying the groundwork for much of this season so I’m expecting it to payoff later, but the beginning definitely lagged. Every time Haikyuu hints at a women’s volleyball tournament, I want a volleyball anime with girls. Man, those ten minutes we got with Kiyoko? Those were great. 

I don’t have too much to say about Somali and Forest Spirit. Abe’s “Make Children” agenda feels at least a little more like a narrative choice in this anime, and I enjoyed Somali and the Golem’s relationship and their travels were in equal turns harrowing and heartwarming. And I did tear up at the end so you got me there, anime. 

In/Spectre has some balls being an anime. It’s existed as a light novel and a manga and those are both superior mediums for it because let’s put all our cards on the table here-- In/Spectre is a show about talking. Five whole entire episodes take place in a car. The finale is winning an argument in an anonymous 4chan chatroom. That said, I have such a fondness for In/Spectre. I think Kotoko rocks. I think a show willing to do nothing but talk at you for two hours is badass. Sitting through this anime is like watching a podcast. I think the show engages in some great dialogue about human nature and how we prefer stories that are theatrical, narratively-driven, and have a logical cause-and-effect, instead of the truth, which is more often than not grim, and disappointing, and illogical. I like that Kotoko’s only function, in-story and out of it, is to bullshit so hard she invents alternate realities. Anyway In/Spectre is good. 

There’s no praise I can lavish on Eizouken that hasn’t already been said. It’s powerful, it’s strange, it’s energetic, and it’s packaged with such love. It’s repurposed the CGDCT template into something deeply affecting. It’s an anime for people who love animation.  I hope everyone watches Eizouken.

[cogentranting]

Us and the World

Warm lights and rich colors framed Felicity and William as they walked into the coffee shop a step ahead of Oliver, and he lost himself for a moment in the vague awe which so often gripped him when he paused to consider that these two perfect people were his family. He followed their lead through the shop, quietly appreciating the lovely domesticity of the scene, as William tried to negotiate his way from a hot chocolate to a coffee and Felicity deftly maneuvered to a compromise of tea. For a little breath of peace, the crowds, the store, the world, were just a scenic background to a reality comprised entirely of these two.

Oliver stepped around them to the counter, offering his card to the barista to pay for the drinks. She flinched.  In an instant, the world snapped back into hyper-focus. The girl was rigid, arms tight to her sides, staring at him, as if looking away might prompt him to attack. She didn’t pull away, didn’t say a word. Just darted her small hand up to take the card, handling it like a shard of broken glass. And her wide wide eyes hardly left his face. He’d seen that look before. Plenty of times. He’d just thought he’d left it in the past. It was then that he became aware of all the other faces around the shop watching him. He was not unused to stares. He’d been his parents’ son, the tabloid regular, the foreigner, the mayor. But of course these stares were different. These stares knew the truth.

They all know you’re a killer. He wasn’t sure whose voice it was whispering the words in his head. Maybe Chase. Or Ra’s Al Ghul who predicted this so long ago. It could even be Quentin or Laurel; they’d certainly said such things about him in their lives. All the ghosts of those who’d known what he was and told him so pressed in around him. And those ghosts took up a refrain in a voice that belonged to Chase and Taiana and his father and a dozen others all at once: You’re a monster and they know it.

The haze of the coffee shop shuddered into brittle clarity. Two main exits, plus a back entrance for employees. The tables filling the room would make maneuvering hard and the tall round design meant they wouldn’t afford much protection should Felicity and William need it. The bank of windows making up the one wall—a brief flash of bullets spraying a limousine quickened his pulse��and the ever shifting crowd of people passing back and forth with hands straying in and out of pockets created too many shadows for him to track. His narrowed gaze swept the room, sorting stares into categories: wary, fearful, aggressive, curious, angry. His thumb rubbed against the callouses on his fingers and-

Felicity’s hand brushed against his shoulder, trailing down to his elbow and she drew him after her and William, toward a table in the corner, without pausing in her animated description of everything she had planned for her start-up. Oliver sat down with his back to the wall, forced the corners of his mouth to turn upwards, and, as Felicity finished her story, asked William about the book he was reading. Still his eyes stayed fixed above his son’s head, monitoring the eclectic stirrings of the crowd.

 Felicity wordlessly excused herself and slipped away from the table. She wandered over to a side counter, where the barista who’d served them was now cleaning. Felicity made a brief show of fiddling with the packets of creamer before catching the girl’s eye.

“He’s not dangerous, you know.”

The girl flushed awkwardly, and then jutted her chin defensively, emboldened, perhaps, by Oliver’s relative distance. “The FBI seemed to think he is.”

“Well, I mean, he is dangerous, but he’s not dangerous. Not bad-guy-dangerous. And trust me, I have seen a lot of bad guys. Like… literal ninjas and supervillains and Nazis.” The girl’s brow furrowed and Felicity cut herself off with a deep breath. “What I mean is, there’s a lot of stuff to be scared of in the world, but Oliver’s not part of that.”

Together they glanced over at Oliver, and for a moment Felicity saw him through a stranger’s eyes. A large, muscular man, rough with callouses and scars, full of sharp edges and tense lines. And darkened eyes, watching the world from beneath a furrowed brow; something powerful and fearsome simmering within a weaponized soul, and peering through that shifting glare.  

Felicity frowned. He certainly looked like he was about to murder someone. Which wasn’t at all helpful. She turned back to the barista, fixing the girl with an earnest intensity. “I know he looks scary. I know he looks like he might kill someone. And I know that if you’ve heard any of the things people have said about him then you know that he has killed people. But I also know him. Better than anyone. I know how much he cares, and how hard he tries to protect the people of this city. I know all the things he’s given up to try to do that, for the sake of people he’s never met. I know how guilty he feels whenever he can’t protect someone. And I know that, that scary angry murder look he’s got on his face right now isn’t actually angry at all. It’s afraid.”

The barista’s mouth twisted into a scowl of disbelief. “What does the Green Arrow have to be scared of?”

“There are a million and five people in this city right now who hate him. Who’d try to hurt him. And because of that, who’d try to hurt me, or our son. The thing that Oliver wants most in the world is to keep us safe. But right now he’s terrified that just by being around us he’s doing the opposite. Which is ridiculous because there’s no place in the world I feel safer than by his side. But that idea that he is some sort of monster, has eaten him up for years. And I’m not gonna let that happen anymore. I’m going to make him see that he’s a hero even if it means proving it to every other person in this city first. This city needs him to protect it, so it’s up to me to protect him.” Felicity stopped, realizing she wasn’t really addressing the barista anymore. She smiled again, her bright, disarming smile. “Sorry. I just… just thought I should say something to… set you at ease. I guess.” She trailed off and then plucked out one of the packages of creamer she’d been playing with, waved an awkward goodbye, and headed back to her table.

Her arrival broke Oliver’s vigilance and he greeted her with a smile as she’d been gone months not minutes. Felicity sat down with her chair as close to his as she could make it, wrapping herself into his side and resting her head on his shoulder, as William began a new story. And for a little breath of peace, the crowds, the store, the world, were just a scenic background to a reality comprised entirely of these three.

[wasilly1]

2/7/2019

 On the 7th of February, 2019 I was admitted into the hospital for severe dehydration and diarrhea. It's a long story. Let's talk about it. It all began on Wednesday 6th Feb 2019. It was a normal day when I came back from school in the evening my stomach started acting weird. I had a few episodes of diarrhea, I didn't think much about it. At around 9 pm I got a fever and I took an Advil for it. I honestly didn't feel too bad, I just felt a bit sick. 1:30 am 2/7/19 It was a restless night and I woke up at 1:30 am. I went to the bathroom and that's when it all went south. You know when you feel like something is really bad is about to happen. Yeah, that's basically what happened. When I got into the bathroom I collapsed on the counter. I was too tired and I had no idea why. I looked at myself in the mirror. I knew there was something horribly wrong with my body. My breathing was fast paced and my heart rate was spiking. I was too exhausted to stand up. I truly felt too tired to do anything. I felt like giving up and staying there, but I knew if I stayed there the situation would get much worse. I would pass out. My dad came to check if I was ok and I was only able to muster out a few words. I told him I am feeling too tired. As I was walking out of the bathroom I passed out on my parents. They pretty much got the message and they immediately called 911.  My feet were turning numb and my head was spinning. I had a huge headache. It felt like the world was spinning. All that was running through my mind was, "What is wrong with me." The paramedics came and they helped me down the stairs. I could see my unfinished homework laying on the table and my computer still on. It was like a moment frozen in time. I was carried onto the driveway where they put me on a stretcher and then loaded me on the ambulance. When you're going through something like this, everything feels so foreign. Walking down the stairs of my own home felt so different. Looking outside of my house seeing my whole neighborhood felt foreign to me. Everything was moving so fast. Within a few minutes I had been fine and now I could barely walk and I was getting in an ambulance. I was thinking about friends and family and what was next for me. Everything that had been on my mind earlier had been replaced with this reckoning fear of what was occurring. The next thing I knew the ambulance was driving towards the hospital. I have always been intrigued by what it feels like to ride in an ambulance because the last time I was in an ambulance was when I was really young. It's not exactly fun when you are in pain and you are having a horrible headache. I watched as familiar streets zoomed past me.  The paramedics monitored my heart rate and blood pressure. My mom was right there in the ambulance watching it all unfold while my dad was following us in his car. 2:00 am 2/7/19 I reached the hospital at 2:00 am. I was taken into the ER where they took my blood and they ran some tests. They asked my parents a bunch of questions on what had happened.  They asked me how I was feeling. I had no idea what was happening to me.  All I could tell them was that I was too tired to do anything. It was the best response I could give them.  They decided to insert an IV and put me on fluids. Everything was happening so fast. Not long after that, I got a fever and I had to take more pills. I went to sleep. Over the years I have faced many fears. From watching horror movies to being pranked from my friends. All of these have given me a jolt, but do you know what scares me the most. Probably what scares a lot of people the most. It's the fear of not knowing what is wrong with you. That is the worst feeling. When you are down on the ground and you have no idea what's wrong with you. It was that fear that was taking me over at the moment. I woke up sometime later I thought I was feeling better, but apparently, my body didn't think the same way. A lady came into the room where I was being kept. She was the head of the observation unit and she wanted to admit me into their care. An observation unit is where the doctors keep you in the hospital for 24 hours (the longest they can hold you without you being officially admitted) and they basically, you guessed it, observe you. Me thinking that this would be a quick and easy thing was a big mistake. The reason they said they need to observe me was that my blood pressure was very low. My heart rate was also dangerously spiking. It hit 130 BPM at points. They had no explanation for this. All they could say was that it was probably because I was severely dehydrated. Several things clicked in my mind when they said that. I had heard, in books, about all of these things happening when you are severely dehydrated. Extreme fatigue, heart rate spikes, BP drops. They said that this stomach virus had turned my body into a war zone within a few hours. It had already caused me to get several fevers. I stayed in the ER for a really long time. In the time I spent there I met a really nice child-life specialist. Child life specialists are incredible people whose main mission is to make you happy and play games with you. She brought a pack of Uno cards, a book, and some coloring pages. We played a game of Uno while we chatted about our favorite movies. I enjoyed that. 4:00 pm 2/7/19 A few hours later they put me on a wheelchair and they moved me to the observation unit. There they continued to monitor me and check my vitals. I stayed there for multiple hours. There were multiple times when my blood pressure dropped and when my heart rate spiked. As more and more fluids were being pumped my condition was slowly improving. I was beginning to be able to walk, and I thought I would be out pretty soon. It was quite a boring wait. I didn't do much. They had a TV and I watched some Friends on it. Talking about friends, I also got in touch with some of my school friends to tell them about what I was going through. Everything was going pretty good until I started to get fevers again. 7:30 pm 2/7/19 While I was able to walk and stuff, my BP and heart rate were not normal yet. Whenever I woke up my heart rate would abnormally spike and my BP would be really low. They were unsure why and looking at my history of cancer, they didn't want to let something like that just fly by their radar. The same lady who had visited me in the ER came to my room again to talk to my parents. She said that I would need to be admitted into the hospital and that I would need to spend the night. There were many other doctors who stopped by to talk to me and my family. There also ran a few EKGs to find out what was up with my heart. 11:00 pm 2/7/19 I WAS MOVING. I was sleeping and I woke with a startle. They were moving my bed up to the seventh floor. They rolled me down a bunch of hallways and corridors. Not going to lie, I kinda enjoyed that ride. I got to my room and they checked my weight and ran a few more tests and they just went over some details about what would happen while I was admitted. The room was huge. There was a section for two beds and there was a large bathroom. There were also two nice TVs so that meant more Friends. 5:00 am 2/8/19 I was again woken up. There was a nurse checking on my vitals to see how I was doing. 7:00 am 2/8/19 Did you know that you can't sleep in a hospital? I was again awoken by a nurse monitoring my vitals. I decided to stay up from that point. I was feeling much better because I had been hooked to the IV for the entire night so I had received quite a lot of fluids. My dad brought me some breakfast from the hospital's cafe and I had a chance to take a shower. Here's a fun fact. - Taking a shower with an IV is not very easy. 10:00 am 2/8/19 I saw many different faces that day. All of the doctors were there to help me. At one point they had the entire team come to check on me. They do that with each admitted patient. There was a group of around 15 students, interns, and doctors who discussed what was next for me. They talked about how I was doing better and how they may discharge me later that day. I also heard a helicopter landing on the hospital's helipad. That was cool. 1:30 pm 2/8/19 It was a miracle! I had been given my discharge papers. They had given me the clear to leave the hospital. My heart rate and BP was much better and I wasn't severely dehydrated anymore. As I was walking out of the hospital into the parking garage I could see patient passes stuck onto the walls of the garage. There were hundreds of them. Each one was different. A different person. A different patient. A different room. In a sense, it was a celebration of each person's discharge. A celebration that signified the strength of each and every person in that hospital. Conclusion This entire experience had been so crazy. Starting on Wednesday and ending on Friday, my entire system had been flipped on its head. It was a scary experience. There is still some time until I fully recover and return to a hundred percent, but I am glad that I am feeling much better. I want to thank all the doctors/nurses who helped me, and every single person who made me feel better and who made my recovery possible. These people work so hard and spend long hours helping others and I believe they deserve a lot of credit for that. I also want to thank my family and my friends who were there for me when I was at my lowest and who wished me well. I guess a major takeaway from this is to drink a lot of water. Read the full article

[coruscantexpat]

Bonds Unbroken - Chapter 2: Now

All around her, the jungles of Dxun burned.

The screams of the dying rang out from every direction, but Meetra couldn't see anyone through the thick smoke. She clutched her lightsaber, the outline of the hilt imprinting itself into her palm and fingers, and lifted it, struggling to see through the blackness by the cyan light from both blades. An explosion sounded, terrifyingly near, but no debris, no flames; nothing broke through the roiling smoke. A woman screamed directly behind her, but when Meetra whirled, there was nothing but black. Barked Mando'a clashed with panicked Basic in the distance, the words drowned out by the sounds of war. Meetra drew her lightsaber closer to her, squeezing the hilt with both hands now. She tried to call out, to raise her regiment or anyone else nearby, but her voice died in her throat.

There was another explosion, at once massive and distant, and the bottom fell out of the world.

The smoke vanished, revealing a dead planet, the surface scorched and decimated. Ash choked the air now, thick and suffocating, and an artificial storm raged in the outer atmosphere. There was a sound, countless beings shrieking in a horrible concert of agony, but just as quickly as it came, it cut off, leaving a deafening silence. The impact of the explosion drove Meetra to her knees and sent her lightsaber clattering away. Above her, hundreds of ships, Republic and Mandalorian alike, shuddered violently, pulled down toward the planet. Several shattered, gravity tearing at them from a million different directions. Meetra stared up at the carnage, unable to move; her limbs refused to obey her command. A flutter of motion caught her attention and she managed to turn her head far enough to see two figures standing directly beneath the falling ships. The taller one, a man with a shaved and tattooed head, continued staring at the massacre in the sky, but the other figure, whose rippling robes had drawn Meetra's eye, turned toward her, revealing a stylized mask. The figure didn't speak, but Meetra was chilled to her core. Though she couldn't see the eyes behind the mask, she somehow knew they were locked with hers. Unable to bear the tension coupled with the death and destruction around her, Meetra tried to scream, but no sound came out. The figure continued to stare as the world continued to end, and there was nothing she could do about it. She screamed again, soundlessly, every part of her straining to escape the hell she was trapped in.

Then, above the howling of the storm and the shrieking of the crumpling ships, came a single voice, a lifeline that Meetra seized and clung to: "Awaken."

Meetra catapulted back to consciousness, colliding with a clear wall and nearly choking on a mouthful of liquid. Panicking, she tried to reel backward, but only succeeded in floating away from the barrier. Realizing she was able to breath despite the water in her mouth, she took several deep breaths, reaching for the old exercises to get her bearings. Gradually, her vision focused, revealing the reason for the clear barrier as well as why she wasn't drowning: a kolto tank. The aerated liquid flowing in and out of her lungs was an uncomfortable feeling, but not an unfamiliar one; she'd spent her fair share of time in tanks exactly like this one during the war.

Meetra squinted through the glass, but couldn't make anything out through the kolto and her own cloudy vision. She tried to bang on the glass, but only succeeded in a few weak taps. Her muscles felt slow and heavy, weighted down further by the resistance of the liquid. Her head felt fuzzy, like an invisible film of cotton was wrapped around it.

A quiet suction sound started up from somewhere beneath her, but now that the adrenaline from her dream was beginning to wear off, Meetra found it hard to be concerned about the noise. It wasn't until she noticed she was sinking that she realized it was the tank's drains, pulling the kolto out in preparation for her release. Her feet touched the bottom of the tank, but her legs refused to support her weight and buckled, sending her to her knees. She leaned against the tank wall and watched the liquid level drop, feeling more exhausted than she had in ten years.

As the kolto drained past her head, her body took over and Meetra convulsed as her lungs and stomach struggled to expel the excess liquid. When the spasms dwindled to a few hacking coughs, she pushed herself away from the wall of the tank and tried to stand. Her knees gave way immediately and she crashed to the floor, barely catching herself in time to avoid slamming face first into the tank's metal bottom. A wheeze escaped her as she struggled to push herself to her hands and knees, weaving drunkenly as she crawled away from the tank. Her vision faded in and out, tinting the floor in front of her white, then gray, then black before repeating the cycle. She had no idea how far she'd gotten before she collapsed again, sinking down fully to meet the cold tiles.

When Meetra returned to consciousness a second time, more of her faculties seemed to return with her. Her head was no longer wrapped in wool and while she still felt weak, she was able to push herself up into a sitting position with little more than the usual effort. She plucked at her form-fitting undergarment and found it dry; the tiles beneath her were dry as well. Out for some time, then. She struggled to her feet, legs shaking but supporting her weight, and took in her surroundings. Sterile white tile and chrome, the soft hum of myriad electronics, and the inexplicable lack of odor: a medical facility, or at least a wing. She ran a hand through her hair, absently patting it back into its usual style while she searched her memory. She recalled Belsavis, the arrival of Sallon's unit, and the Harbinger; her last clear memories were of her quarters aboard the ship, but after that... Meetra bit her lip. It wasn't like her memory was blank; she could recall blurry images, but they were too warped to interpret. She sighed, shook her head, glanced over her shoulder, and nearly tripped over her own feet as she stumbled backward.

There were four other kolto tanks in the room, two on each side of hers, and each held an occupant. No, a body. Four human men floated in the kolto, all dressed in blue and gold uniforms and all extremely dead. A cold weight settled in Meetra's stomach and she backed out of the room, turning away as the door slid shut after her. She leaned against the wall opposite and took a few deep breaths to settle herself. "Hello?" Her voice, raspy and cracked, bounced back at her weakly from walls of the long hallway. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?" No answer. She started down the hall, one hand braced against the wall for support, until she spotted a terminal through the window of a side room. She ducked in and leaned against the console, bringing up the main commands with a few keystrokes. The local cameras revealed nothing but another view of the horrifying tableau in the kolto tanks and two corpses housed in the morgue. A scan of the last patient treatment logs revealed that a fatal amount of sedatives had been injected into the kolto tanks, killing the other four patients, but putting Meetra into a catatonic state. She frowned, the chill in her stomach growing heavier. Whoever administered the medication had to have known her past, something that didn't sit too well after running away from it for the last decade.

Meetra backed out to the command screen again and opened up a file containing several vidlogs, the earliest from three days prior. She pulled it up and a hologram of a human woman's torso materialized above the terminal's screen. Even with the holo's lack of color, Meetra recognized the woman's uniform as the same as the ones on the dead men in the kolto tanks. The recording began to speak, starting mid-sentence. "- still examining the survivors of the damaged freighter - Looks like it goes by the name of the Ebon Hawk. Only one survivor, placed in the kolto tank for recovery. The carbon scoring on the vessel suggests it was in a battle, but no indication of who fired on it... couldn't get much from the navicomputer. I'm surprised the ship was able to make it inside the Peragus asteroid field without the asteroid drift charts." Meetra latched on to the name; she didn't recognize it, but at least she had some useful information now. "Aside from the lone survivor, we recovered an old woman, no life signs. There was also a protocol droid and an utility droid on board - both sent down to maintenance while security sorts through the other items on the ship. It looks like the utility droid - a T3 unit - was able to get the ship working enough to get to the colony. We're prepared to - " The holo dissolved into static, vanishing from above the monitor.

"Ebon Hawk. Not the Harbinger," Meetra murmured to herself. The name wasn't familiar and she had no memory of switching ships. If she hadn't come here on the Harbinger, then what had happened to it? She watched the remaining two logs, from a day previous and the day before that respectively, but didn't learn anything about the Republic vessel. However, other questions were answered. She was in the medical bay of a mining facility, one that had been experiencing a rather high accident rate over the last couple of days, and the miners had at least guessed her former Jedi status. The last holo had revealed that an explosion had sent the entire facility into lockdown, explaining the absence of any employees. She unlocked the morgue from the terminal and made her way slowly across the hall into the chilled room. Immediately to her left was the body of an elderly woman, undoubtedly the one mentioned in the earliest log. Her face was well-lined, indicating the woman had been of advanced age, but there was an elegance to it, even in death. This, coupled with the drab brown robes the old woman was dressed in, unsettled Meetra. The corpse reminded her far too much of the older masters. She turned away toward a second body farther in the morgue, this one a deceased miner. Meetra gingerly rifled through the pockets of his uniform, hoping to find something useful. "Sorry, friend." She fished a hand-held plasma torch from the miner's belt and weighed it in her hand, flipping it once and catching it deftly. Not good for a weapon, but useful for getting through locked doors.

There was a soft rustling of cloth and Meetra glanced up to see the old woman rising from her slab. She froze, plasma torch gripped tightly in one hand, and the old woman's mouth curved up into a smirk. She had drawn the hood of her robes down, but Meetra could just see her opaque and milky eyes beneath the edge. When the woman spoke, her voice was soft and slightly raspy, colored through with a Coruscant accent - and surprisingly familiar. "Find what you were looking for amongst the dead?"

"Your voice - I heard it in the kolto tank," Meetra blurted, and the old woman's smirk deepened. "I thought you were dead."

Full chapter available on AO3 and FFN.

[esthermeronobaro]

FYF Fest 2013: My Bloody Valentine Fairy Tale

This review was first published on slugmag.com on Aug. 30, 2013. Read it here. Photos: Tod Seelie

The Choice of a New Generation

Ten years ago I was 17 years old. I "road tripped" 40-minutes south of the small, sinkhole town I lived in to one slightly more populated (with rest homes) for my first concert at a venue imaginatively named the Electric Theater. The headliner didn't make it that night––van troubles or something––but I still have the ticket taped to the brick I claimed as my laptop and covered in Weezer stickers. That year also marked my first mutual boyfriend, and my very first kiss––also mutual.

Around the same time, a kid in Los Angeles named Sean Carlson, just a couple of years older than me in 2004, decided to "boldly go where no man has gone before"––probably to impress some babes––and started Fuck Yeah Fest by booking some shows in a bunch of venues around the city. Honestly, anything I write here about his story is speculation, as the "About" section on the FYF website was blank up until this year, when a lineup history magically appeared along with a link that makes me wish I had requested an interview with the man himself, rather than vying for time with the dazzling lineup of bands at this year's festival.

Regardless, the little information I could piece together about FYF's history, along with this telling Wikipedia page and the clever, generational details observed at FYF Fest 2013––from stages named after Sex and the City characters to the exclusively '90s movie sequel trailers playing after dark between sets on the main stage monitors––give me the confidence to declare that Carlson and I have a common goal, and this past weekend, we sold out together.

Nobody Jaywalks in LA

I have a love-hate relationship with Los Angeles. The reliable weather, the [overcast] beaches, the abundance of vegan food, and its general "vacation" vibe are all reasons why I forget how much I hate all the concrete, the snotty attitudes, the careless drivers and mind-numbing traffic. I know FYF Fest was organized by a like-minded individual because doors aren't until 2 p.m., which means plenty of time to sleep or read a book while shivering on a hotel towel in seagull-infested sand. On our way to one such aquatic adventure, a perfectly manicured 20-something bumps into the back of our rental, causing a few hours delay and ultimately leading to an untimely appearance at the festival, but I am happy to let Dan Deacon introduce me to my FYF 2013 experience. Technical difficulties result in an atypical Dan Deacon set that is more stand-up than music––which works out because I'd missed the comedy during the first part of the day. He makes fun of his balding head, apologizes for all the glitches and the fact this is, indeed, their final song, and manages to still blow me away in his final five minutes on stage with a rainbow light show, two frenetic live drummers, an improvised monologue, and electronic music that sounds like a band made up of Jane and Michael's playroom toys brought to life by Mary Poppins.

Eye Wonder Who Karen O Dates?

When I was a teenager, I used my weekly church attendance as a runway show. At school, I wore the same drab clothes as everyone else, but at church, I was ahead of every revivalist movement: goth, Bohemian, ’60s, ’90s––you name it. I was also a master hair braider, but that’s another story. Now, all I really care about is being comfortable, maximizing my assets and minimizing my … well, other ass-ets. Karen O lives out every minute of her stage life like the rowdiest runway show you’ll ever see––this ain’t no mall walkway with waifs in pastel––and for this reason (OK, and because the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ music is awesome), I find myself at the Carrie Stage on Saturday night. The YYYs’ latest album, Mosquito, has already become a go-to on my playlists, and as Karen O comes on stage in a dirty-blonde bob, sparkling pantsuit (with shorts), pink knee socks and colorful sneakers and moves right into the title track, she sucks all the energy from the thousands gathered and blasts it back in wild yelps and guttural screams. 

The songs move into each other seamlessly, congruent with Karen O’s wardrobe changes. They’re more raw and punk-infused live, and favorites include “Gold Lion,” “Runaway,” “Cheated Hearts” and “Sacrilege”––whose gospel wails follow me out of the festival at the end of the night. A thick, long bright-yellow cord connects to her mic and she moves it around her body like a snake, pulling it over her shoulder, spinning it above her head, and to everyone’s delight, pushing it into her open mouth as a long, throaty moan envelops us like an electric blanket bursting into flame on contact. She dons her famous studded “KO” leather jacket for “Zero,” and at one point, even pushes a headlamp onto her head like a third eye. Speaking of eyes: From the back of the stage, before anyone can look twice, a giant inflatable eyeball is pushed into the crowd midway through––which I guess has been happening at all of their shows, but is a complete surprise to me. As I watch the spectacular performance, all I can think is, “Damn, I wonder who Karen O dates.”

Beach House Lullabies

Sitting on my FYF Fest map, looking at everyone’s dirty faces while I wait for Beach House, I ease into Sunday. In back of the Carrie Stage, there looks to be a wall of vertical wires shimmering as the sun sets, like those fountains at fancy restaurants that look like pouring rain. The dream pop duo are joined by an extra musician so as to maintain the luscious layers of music they’ve created for nearly a decade. I’m far enough from the stage that the people are blurs of slow-moving flesh, but the background shows a starry mess of lights, supplementing the dingy L.A. sky above me, while puffs of smoke from the front of the stage look like bubbles. The coolness of Victoria Legrand’s whispers is complemented by blue lighting, and as the wire wall behind the band starts to move with crimson shapes and the audience sways back and forth, I feel like I’m watching a concert under the sea.

Family Matters

Across the country, Miley Cyrus is pushing her chicken butt into Robin Thicke as Solange drops to her knees with class on the Charlotte Stage in a bright, patterned sweater and Lisa Simpson haircut, gyrating to the funky, retro bass lines thumping behind her. "Let's turn this into a grind fest," she croons into the mic, and immediately, all the white kids around me drop two inches and start shuffling back and forth. Ever since watching 20 Feet From Stardom, I've been keen on any act with back-up singers, and I know that, regardless of Solange's down-to-earth vibe, the sister of Beyonce Knowles will surely boast some classic R&B bells and whistles. As her back-ups ooh and aah, giving the set glimpses of Destiny's Child influence, Solange shows off dance moves that are comparable to her big sis––though they'd feel more at home in an intimate club full of eclectic jazz-hounds than a post-apocalyptic music video set. It must be difficult to have your work constantly thrown up against that of a worldwide pop culture icon's––but really, don't we all live in Beyonce's shadow? As if reading our minds on whether her notable family members might be hiding backstage, Solange happily mentions her mom has come to watch, and lightly asks everyone to say, "Hello Mom." Now that there is no question as to whether or not Beyonce is present, we can enjoy Solange for who she is and what she has to offer: soulful, classic, booty-shakin' music with a '90s twist.

Well, What Other Bands Are There Now?

Sunday is a hazy blur of romantic waves. "We're in this together," is our mantra, and every piece of life and media thrown our way parallels the past year in a microscopic experience. The Breakfast Club plays out in the hotel room as we make our way to the metro, but sit on opposite ends of the aisle, looking past each other to the other side of the weekend in silent repose. As we walk inside, Flume beats like a mad heart in the aptly named Samantha Tent in the center of the grounds, and there we break apart to Melvins and Beach House, respectively, meeting back in the middle for Solange.

Washed Out's "Feel It All Around"permeates the festival grounds as we sit on a curb, sticking morbid PETA stickers on each other's plaid button-ups and thinking about not 10, but 20 years ago, when the '90s meant divorce and new schools and new friends. Washed Out fades away and 2005's summer anthem, "Time to Pretend," sounds out at the south end of the park on the Carrie Stage. Like an oracular beam of light, groups of kids walk past us toward the music, which becomes unfamiliar until the intro of "Kids" marches into our ears, and we know MGMT's set is nearly over, making room for a different tractor beam of noise.

Just about everyone has made jokes about it, but the warnings that pop up between flashes of inculcating "FYF Fest––Best Weekend Ever," trailers for Batman and Robin, and "Next Up … My Bloody Valentine," are very real, along with the bright orange earplugs we pick up at the info booth. This feels new, but in a regurgitated way, mimicking the nervous expectation of that first show I attended 10 years ago. The past six months have culminated into this recursive moment, which I've subconsciously set up as a reset to infinity. Taking a good five minutes to get my earplugs just right so I won't have to mess with them again, I wait in anticipation with everyone around me, but really, just one other person, because this is our moment. The lights drop and the letters "m b v" appear like blood surfacing on a swirling blue pool in the background. The stage looks crowded already with towers of amps, but as the musicians file in, they fit into their respective positions like the last pieces of a puzzle. Kevin Shields leans into the mic, and though I'm too far to make out facial features, and the giant monitors to each side show nothing, his shoulder-length, frizzy white hair is illuminated by the blue light behind him, giving his crisp and single "Hello" an ethereal quality.

I expect a wall of noise to push us all backward from the very first note, but we're eased into the music like a first kiss with one of my favorites, "I Only Said." My Bloody Valentine's most critically acclaimed album may be called "Loveless," but there is a tangible romance inside the static and reverb, which is why we're here together, arms wrapped around each other. I don't have most of the track names memorized, but I know Loveless' melodies and whispers by heart, and though muffled by the foam in my ears (which I end up repositioning so they're not quite so stifling), I smile wider with each song I recognize. We're enjoying the on-and-off violence of "Only Shallow" as the background turns to fiery noise, the amps opening their mouths like dragons and short, shadowed glimpses of Bilinda Butcher's sparkling red guitar––matching her hair and heels––move on the screens––and then silence. I look up from my sway and see the band still playing. More heads in the audience pop up and audible panic swells. The guitars turn back on like a switch, but it happens again, and I fear the magic lost. I feel like Dorothy, peering behind the curtain to see the truth. Just humans with big machines. All seems lost. For some in the audience, this is just another show, another checkmark on their list of bands to see, and these technical glitches are simply minor annoyances. To me, they're stabs in my back. Waves of doubt and despair wash over me as I question the past year-and-a-half, seemingly reflected in the blown speakers and five-minute interruption.

Shields announces the end of their set, apologizing for the difficulties and throwing us a bone by dubbing us their best audience thus far. It feels insincere and only makes it worse. They move into their final song, which I later find out is "You Made Me Realise," from their EP of the same name released in 1988. It's a discordant track, bouncier than anything on Loveless, but I'm frozen in place. The song seems to end, at least the melody, and in its place, the slow climax of thunderous noise rockets from the stage. I'm still frozen, but this time, I can't stop staring at the noise displayed visually on the backdrop. I know it's dumb, it's cliche, but I can't remember how long I stood there. A tractor beam of the loudest music I have ever heard holds onto me, and like a strong dose of radiation, clears away the malignant thoughts that had built up in my brain. I tear myself away and search for recognition in the faces around me. A few creased foreheads express confusion, but for the most part, My Bloody Valentine has managed to baptize an audience of thousands with a single, reverberating chord. I'll learn later that this part of the song is rightfully called "Full Holocaust," and after what seems like a lifetime of eleventh hours (but was only five minutes), they fall back into the melody and finish out the song. We turn around with everyone else to walk out of the festival grounds, but I barely noticed the crowd. "It was like the biggest 'fuck you’ to every band who has ever said they're loud!" I exclaim, thinking it's a witty thing to say. There's more going on in my mind, but for now, I feel relieved and hopeful. It's not until we're back at the hotel, packing silently for the plane ride back home in the morning, that it all comes into perspective. He says, "Well, what other bands are there now?" All the moments––the good, the bad, the hopelessness, the elation––they've culminated here and will repeat into infinity––and you made me realise, it will always be with you.

[wasilly1]

2/7/2019

 On the 7th of February, 2019 I was admitted into the hospital for severe dehydration and diarrhea. It's a long story. Let's talk about it. It all began on Wednesday 6th Feb 2019. It was a normal day when I came back from school in the evening my stomach started acting weird. I had a few episodes of diarrhea, I didn't think much about it. At around 9 pm I got a fever and I took an Advil for it. I honestly didn't feel too bad, I just felt a bit sick. 1:30 am 2/7/19 It was a restless night and I woke up at 1:30 am. I went to the bathroom and that's when it all went south. You know when you feel like something is really bad is about to happen. Yeah, that's basically what happened. When I got into the bathroom I collapsed on the counter. I was too tired and I had no idea why. I looked at myself in the mirror. I knew there was something horribly wrong with my body. My breathing was fast paced and my heart rate was spiking. I was too exhausted to stand up. I truly felt too tired to do anything. I felt like giving up and staying there, but I knew if I stayed there the situation would get much worse. I would pass out. My dad came to check if I was ok and I was only able to muster out a few words. I told him I am feeling too tired. As I was walking out of the bathroom I passed out on my parents. They pretty much got the message and they immediately called 911.  My feet were turning numb and my head was spinning. I had a huge headache. It felt like the world was spinning. All that was running through my mind was, "What is wrong with me." The paramedics came and they helped me down the stairs. I could see my unfinished homework laying on the table and my computer still on. It was like a moment frozen in time. I was carried onto the driveway where they put me on a stretcher and then loaded me on the ambulance. When you're going through something like this, everything feels so foreign. Walking down the stairs of my own home felt so different. Looking outside of my house seeing my whole neighborhood felt foreign to me. Everything was moving so fast. Within a few minutes I had been fine and now I could barely walk and I was getting in an ambulance. I was thinking about friends and family and what was next for me. Everything that had been on my mind earlier had been replaced with this reckoning fear of what was occurring. The next thing I knew the ambulance was driving towards the hospital. I have always been intrigued by what it feels like to ride in an ambulance because the last time I was in an ambulance was when I was really young. It's not exactly fun when you are in pain and you are having a horrible headache. I watched as familiar streets zoomed past me.  The paramedics monitored my heart rate and blood pressure. My mom was right there in the ambulance watching it all unfold while my dad was following us in his car. 2:00 am 2/7/19 I reached the hospital at 2:00 am. I was taken into the ER where they took my blood and they ran some tests. They asked my parents a bunch of questions on what had happened.  They asked me how I was feeling. I had no idea what was happening to me.  All I could tell them was that I was too tired to do anything. It was the best response I could give them.  They decided to insert an IV and put me on fluids. Everything was happening so fast. Not long after that, I got a fever and I had to take more pills. I went to sleep. Over the years I have faced many fears. From watching horror movies to being pranked from my friends. All of these have given me a jolt, but do you know what scares me the most. Probably what scares a lot of people the most. It's the fear of not knowing what is wrong with you. That is the worst feeling. When you are down on the ground and you have no idea what's wrong with you. It was that fear that was taking me over at the moment. I woke up sometime later I thought I was feeling better, but apparently, my body didn't think the same way. A lady came into the room where I was being kept. She was the head of the observation unit and she wanted to admit me into their care. An observation unit is where the doctors keep you in the hospital for 24 hours (the longest they can hold you without you being officially admitted) and they basically, you guessed it, observe you. Me thinking that this would be a quick and easy thing was a big mistake. The reason they said they need to observe me was that my blood pressure was very low. My heart rate was also dangerously spiking. It hit 130 BPM at points. They had no explanation for this. All they could say was that it was probably because I was severely dehydrated. Several things clicked in my mind when they said that. I had heard, in books, about all of these things happening when you are severely dehydrated. Extreme fatigue, heart rate spikes, BP drops. They said that this stomach virus had turned my body into a war zone within a few hours. It had already caused me to get several fevers. I stayed in the ER for a really long time. In the time I spent there I met a really nice child-life specialist. Child life specialists are incredible people whose main mission is to make you happy and play games with you. She brought a pack of Uno cards, a book, and some coloring pages. We played a game of Uno while we chatted about our favorite movies. I enjoyed that. 4:00 pm 2/7/19 A few hours later they put me on a wheelchair and they moved me to the observation unit. There they continued to monitor me and check my vitals. I stayed there for multiple hours. There were multiple times when my blood pressure dropped and when my heart rate spiked. As more and more fluids were being pumped my condition was slowly improving. I was beginning to be able to walk, and I thought I would be out pretty soon. It was quite a boring wait. I didn't do much. They had a TV and I watched some Friends on it. Talking about friends, I also got in touch with some of my school friends to tell them about what I was going through. Everything was going pretty good until I started to get fevers again. 7:30 pm 2/7/19 While I was able to walk and stuff, my BP and heart rate were not normal yet. Whenever I woke up my heart rate would abnormally spike and my BP would be really low. They were unsure why and looking at my history of cancer, they didn't want to let something like that just fly by their radar. The same lady who had visited me in the ER came to my room again to talk to my parents. She said that I would need to be admitted into the hospital and that I would need to spend the night. There were many other doctors who stopped by to talk to me and my family. There also ran a few EKGs to find out what was up with my heart. 11:00 pm 2/7/19 I WAS MOVING. I was sleeping and I woke with a startle. They were moving my bed up to the seventh floor. They rolled me down a bunch of hallways and corridors. Not going to lie, I kinda enjoyed that ride. I got to my room and they checked my weight and ran a few more tests and they just went over some details about what would happen while I was admitted. The room was huge. There was a section for two beds and there was a large bathroom. There were also two nice TVs so that meant more Friends. 5:00 am 2/8/19 I was again woken up. There was a nurse checking on my vitals to see how I was doing. 7:00 am 2/8/19 Did you know that you can't sleep in a hospital? I was again awoken by a nurse monitoring my vitals. I decided to stay up from that point. I was feeling much better because I had been hooked to the IV for the entire night so I had received quite a lot of fluids. My dad brought me some breakfast from the hospital's cafe and I had a chance to take a shower. Here's a fun fact. - Taking a shower with an IV is not very easy. 10:00 am 2/8/19 I saw many different faces that day. All of the doctors were there to help me. At one point they had the entire team come to check on me. They do that with each admitted patient. There was a group of around 15 students, interns, and doctors who discussed what was next for me. They talked about how I was doing better and how they may discharge me later that day. I also heard a helicopter landing on the hospital's helipad. That was cool. 1:30 pm 2/8/19 It was a miracle! I had been given my discharge papers. They had given me the clear to leave the hospital. My heart rate and BP was much better and I wasn't severely dehydrated anymore. As I was walking out of the hospital into the parking garage I could see patient passes stuck onto the walls of the garage. There were hundreds of them. Each one was different. A different person. A different patient. A different room. In a sense, it was a celebration of each person's discharge. A celebration that signified the strength of each and every person in that hospital. Conclusion This entire experience had been so crazy. Starting on Wednesday and ending on Friday, my entire system had been flipped on its head. It was a scary experience. There is still some time until I fully recover and return to a hundred percent, but I am glad that I am feeling much better. I want to thank all the doctors/nurses who helped me, and every single person who made me feel better and who made my recovery possible. These people work so hard and spend long hours helping others and I believe they deserve a lot of credit for that. I also want to thank my family and my friends who were there for me when I was at my lowest and who wished me well. I guess a major takeaway from this is to drink a lot of water. Read the full article