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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 11 months ago

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Chapter 74 - Yelana's surprise and Anna's special journey

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: around every 2-3 weeks

Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks (try to use headphones). It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

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The Norting was over and the Northuldra left the hall to return to the camp one by one. Ryder and Honeymaren were the last to leave and she glanced back at Elsa, but she was still standing by the stairs with her sister, Yelana and Alena, engaged in conversation. Honeymaren turned away sadly after a moment or two and slipped out through the door just as Elsa saw her.

While Anna spoke enthusiastically of the meeting house, Elsa had become rather pensive. Unfortunately, there had been no more opportunity for her to speak to Honeymaren. Not to mention that if tears had flowed from both of them, it would have drawn unwelcome attention to them, especially to the young Northuldra. Uncomfortable questions might have arisen and that could well have had a negative effect on Honeymaren. But there had to be something Elsa could do to arrange a secret meeting with her. Suddenly an idea occurred to her.

“I'll climb up to the top of the tower, Yelana, if I may. I need to think about something before we talk about your ideas,” she said.

“Of course, Elsa, just go up and have a look around,” replied the woman addressed, and Elsa began to climb up cautiously, not really trusting the cantilevered stair structure.

But nothing wobbled or swayed, everything was very sturdily built and she gained more confidence. Her steps quickened and just before she reached the platform she was almost running.

Then she was under the pyramid-shaped roof, holding on to the thin balustrade and looking down to spot Honeymaren. She discovered her just before she would disappear among the bushes. She was the last one down there and no one else was in the clearing. Honeymaren turned around one last time and Elsa waved at her with her arms raised, hoping to be seen, because she didn't dare call down loudly because of the others down in the hall.

Just as Honeymaren turned around, she saw Elsa standing at the top of the tower out of the corner of her eye. What was she doing there? Elsa was flailing her arms frantically. Honeymaren waved back a little uncertainly with a hand at her side until she suddenly realised that Elsa was trying to communicate something to her through gestures.

First a finger pointed at herself, then she pointed at Honeymaren while her mouth moved, silently trying to tell her something. Apparently she feared that someone was listening when she called out. Then she pointed several times to the south, towards the camp, and finally hugged herself. Honeymaren had understood. Elsa wanted to meet her later at the camp to talk and … was the self-hug supposed to mean that …? She nodded overtly and repeated the finger gestures with a smile, only in reverse. And at the end she threw Elsa another kissing hand and waved happily.

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. Honeymaren had understood and agreed. She absolutely had to talk to her tonight and be with her before she left for her journey perhaps as early as tomorrow morning. Only the exact location in daylight could still be a problem.

Behind her, she suddenly heard footsteps on the stairs. It was Anna, who now also stepped onto the narrow platform and tried to look around. But two people at once hardly had room up here.

“Wow, great view from here … you can even see over the treetops … and how sturdy and yet filigree everything is built. That's some impressive construction for the Northuldra, don't you think, Elsa? Is that why you are so pensive? But well, I'm curious what Yelana will tell us about it and her ominous plan. I'm already curious.” Anna tried to make a little more room for herself, but to no avail. “It's a bit cramped up here for two, isn't it? Would you rather we went back down?”

Elsa nodded. “You're right, it is indeed. It's probably only meant as a lookout, like on ships. There's only room for one there, too. You go ahead, there's no other way,” she giggled.

~~~

“You've already seen everything inside here, so let's go around the building and you could take a closer look at the construction,” Yelana said. “Afterwards I'll tell you about my idea, which might be a little crazy.”

When they were all outside and followed Yelana on the tour, she first told them a bit more about the purpose of this house and what the side entrance was all about.

“I noticed that too when I was looking at everything before the meeting. Why is it that you don't have any noaidi anymore, or was it that … Gyda?”

“Well, sort of, but that was decades ago, before a magical mist trapped us, but she was cast out for certain reasons I won't go into. Before that we had someone without mention of a full council of elders. However, when the old King of Arendelle started a war with us, many of them died in the battle,” Yelana explained. “But now we have peace with Arendelle, thanks to Queen Anna and Elsa.”

Alena nodded thoughtfully.

“Times have changed and if what you said about Honeymaren is true, Alena, and the changes that will happen to her once she takes her position, then now that I think about it like this, I feel that perhaps my idea is not so far-fetched. I was now allowed to be a guest in Arendelle for a longer period of time and was even given a place in the royal council, as a mediator between the two peoples. What if the Norting were to take on a completely different role in the future? One in Arendelle, in a very similar building, only much bigger, combined with the modern architectural style of Arendelle and that of the Northuldra. It could be a meeting place, a focal point to our people and market place for our crafts and trade more generally.”

“But that's quite a wonderful idea, Yelana!” said Anna enthusiastically. “In fact, I could think of quite a few other things that would bring our two cultures even closer together. I'm beginning to understand what you meant by 'new possibilities and opportunities for the future'.”

“And you still have people who know about the unique architectural style?” asked Elsa. “Because this new building in Arendelle would have to look very similar, be just as special, and have just as much of an effect on the visitors there as it did on us today.”

“There are only two left to whom the knowledge has been passed on orally, but they are too old to do anything themselves.”

“Would our builders then, and there would not be many who would come to visit, be allowed to inspect the building here more closely in person and speak to your two elders here on site?” asked Anna.

“True, Anna, the best way to ask such questions is to see the problem with your own eyes. You might as well make some first drafts and take lots of notes,” added Elsa

“I don't think that should be a problem,” Yelana confirmed. “Ultimately, it's still my decision and I don't think Honeymaren would mind either. Well, it looks like I'll be needed in two places in the future.”

“But that's fine, Yelana, and it would only be for a year,” Elsa said, “Your people love you and would miss you if you left them to live in Arendelle in the future. I saw that clearly in the hall today.”

“Alena, I also noticed a certain thing you mentioned when you were in your trance,” Anna interjected. “The peoples in the far north, who, like the Northuldra, also call themselves the People of the Sun, actually speak different languages?”

“There are, as far as I know, as many as eleven languages and sometimes it is really difficult to communicate,” replied the noaidi.

“Oh, I can well imagine, especially because you have no writing of your own, as Yelana once told me. In Arendelle we can learn foreign languages from books and teachers who know languages. In Arendelle, too, we know different ones, from visitors and emigrants from distant kingdoms.”

“Think of Sorenson, Anna,” Elsa interjected. “What if we set up a university in the new building, as he once casually called it. It could become not only a place of getting to know each other, but also of knowledge,” Elsa enthused. “And that would be the perfect place for him as a scientist, if we give him a leading role there. As you know, he was still thinking about staying in Arendelle.”

“Good idea, sis. Besides, what if we don't set up the future royal council there, instead of holding it in the castle? Do you think that would be possible?” asked Anna.

“Interesting thought. In principle, as queen, you'll just have to decide. As for that, I hope Kai is successful.”

While the sisters were still discussing and exchanging thoughts, Yelana looked enthusiastically back and forth between the two of them, because she would never have thought that they were both so fired up about her idea. Alena, on the other hand, was lost in thought, trying to reconcile what she had seen in her trance on Honeymaren's journey with what had just been said.

~~~

Further south in Snoob …

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“No, it's really no problem and we are delighted to help. Just take all the sacks with you, because our silos are full to the top due to the last three good harvests. So we have no shortage of grain,” the baker said to Kristoff and Karl, “and thanks to the windmills, grinding into flour is also much faster than it used to be when I was still learning the baker's trade.”

“You have windmills too? Haven't seen any at all,” Kristoff commented.

“They are up on the plateau where there is always enough wind. Did you know, Your Highness, that windmills were invented by Queen Iduna of Arendelle?” asked the baker and Kristoff nodded.

“Of course, she was after all the mother of my … betrothed, Queen Anna.”

“Sorry, that was a silly question of mine. It's just that I like to tell that story more often. We owe a lot to her invention.”

“I can understand that, but tell me, so many bags and all the other food that was donated to us today, we can't even transport them all with our cart. Can you take them to the collection point for transport to the capital? Karl knows where that is.”

“Of course, I'd be happy to. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. We're done for the day with our tour and I'm sure Arendelles citizens will be very grateful for your generosity.”

Kristoff and Karl said their goodbyes and left the bakery after Kai's brother had told the baker where the hall was from where transport was to be made in the morning. Karl had led his brother to the Baron's estate two hours ago and he had not yet returned.

“Let's go and see how Kai is doing,” Kristoff suggested and Karl agreed.

A little later they were standing in front of a stately mansion and asked the servant for admission when he opened the door.

They only had to wait a short time in the richly decorated entrance hall, which radiated a rural charm and presented oil paintings as well as some trophies of the hunt on the walls. In the middle, a wide staircase led up to a gallery, from which two corridors branched off to the left and right. In the center hung a huge oil painting showing the baron and baroness. While he stood beside her in a dress uniform decorated with several medals, with his hand on her shoulder, she sat in a flared, bouffant dress in pastel red and had her straw-blond hair pinned up. They both looked at the onlooker with smiles.

She looked relatively young to Kristoff, no older than her mid-thirties. Unfortunately, he had not had the opportunity to meet her last time and so he approached Karl about it.

“She's not as young as she looks here, the painter has embellished it a bit,” he grinned. “I don't know her exact age, but be sure that she is not much younger than the baron himself,” Karl said quietly enough so that only Kristoff could hear.

The servant returned and led them into the drawing room, where they saw Kai and the baron sitting engrossed in conversation. They both stood up as they entered and the baron immediately approached Kristoff to give him a warm welcome, grasping both his hands.

“I am pleased to have you visit me here and welcome you to my humble estate, Your Highness. My wife sends her apologies and would certainly have liked to meet you too, but she is feeling unwell today and has had a bit of a lie down. Please join us,” said the baron with a welcoming gesture. “Welcome, Karl. How is Hanna?”

“Very well, Your Excellency, thank you for asking.”

Kai bowed slightly to Kristoff as he stepped closer and took a seat beside him in the wide armchair.

When all were seated, the baron asked, “May I offer you something to drink, Your Highness? A glass of wine perhaps, or a glass of sherry?”

“Thank you, Baron, not necessary, but perhaps a glass of water?”

The baron instructed his servant to fetch what was requested from the kitchen and immediately began to address the conversation with Kai without further ado.

“We have agreed that I will take care of our queen's request as early as tomorrow morning and I feel very honoured to be able to help Arendelle in this way. In fact, I already have my own eye on a candidate from our little town for a council seat and I'm sure he would be proud to be invited to the audience at the castle.”

“That is excellent news, baron. Thank you for your help,” Kristoff replied.

“Of course, it will take some time to reach the mayors of all Snoob's settlements and elect their candidates. It is a task with great responsibility, requires many conversations and tolerates no mistakes. But I am sure in a few weeks there will be enough candidates for the queen to choose from.” He paused for a moment and then added, “For the military issues, especially the navy, you might also want to visit the naval base to the south with this request, it's only about half a day's ride from here.”

Kristoff had not yet had much experience in expressing himself appropriately to a baron in such important matters, but he knew from last time that he was very friendly and obliging. Moreover, he knew what was important to Anna and what had happened when she dismissed the old royal council. Therefore, he chose his words carefully.

“Her Majesty will be very pleased, because it is essential for her to form a new council as soon as possible. Arendelle needs people who are one hundred per cent loyal to their ruler and who, together with her choices, will make smart and wise decisions for the entire kingdom.

She will undoubtedly be very happy about this development, Baron. I will think about your suggestion of visiting the naval base, thank you very much for that advice.”

“May I take this opportunity to ask how it actually came to the dissolution of the Royal Council, because that was it, wasn't it? Kai could not give me any information about that.” The baron, who was sitting directly opposite Kristoff, looked him straight in the eye and leaned forward slightly.

Now Kristoff suddenly felt in a predouille, for this was a highly precarious question from the baron and actually he should have expected exactly that; he thought. He pondered feverishly and felt pinned down by the baron's penetrating gaze. As friendly and affable as the baron had seemed so far, with this one question and the way he asked it, he proved that he was not the baron of Snoob for nothing. Kristoff had been a little deceived, he now realised.

He thought back to that day when he had witnessed the chaos in the council hall and how some council members literally attacked Anna verbally. Kristoff thought he could still hear the reverberations of the shouting and Anna's loud reaction to it. He still felt the shiver that ran down his spine when Anna had Monrad taken away for treason and announced her clear and at the same time irrevocable decision.

“Well, as you can imagine, dear baron, I was present at that day's council meeting as crown prince. I will not go into the details here, but the queen could not help but make this decision. The capital was in direct danger and there had been cowardly and brutal attacks on the farmlands and elsewhere. Our citizens were in turmoil and the role of the council would have been to support their queen, stand fully behind her and help her make the urgent decisions that needed to be made. But unfortunately that was not the case and the queen had to crack down. She made, in my opinion, absolutely the right decision.”

There was absolute silence in the room for a few moments and Kai had held his breath during Kristoff's words, looking at him hopefully. Such moments could be the test of a crown prince. But now Kai relaxed again and smiled inwardly. Kristoff had done his job well, justifying the queen's decision with confident and diplomatic words, and beyond that, even coming to her defence. “Bravo, Your Highness“; thought Kai.

The baron had become thoughtful, lowering his gaze as he leaned back in his chair again, probably trying to imagine this situation right now.

“Yes, you are right, Your Highness. In such a perilous situation, one has to rely on the wise advice of all who are entrusted with it. If the royal council fails to do its job, or even works against its queen, then its members have forfeited their council seats.” The baron finally nodded. “The queen has acted wisely and I understand now. Thank you, Your Highness for your honest words. The queen undoubtedly has a wise and faithful betrothed by her side in you, my congratulations. You are to be envied.”

~~~

In the north, the sun had hidden above the enchanted forest and seemed unwilling to show itself again. Thick grey clouds hung over the treetops and it seemed darker than it was then under the thick blanket of mist. The birds had retreated to their nests and the other forest animals were busy looking for and hoarding supplies for the long winter.

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When the sisters returned to camp with their escort, Elsa found that many Northuldra surrounded Honeymaren, asking questions about her journey and what to expect. Advice was given and help was offered. As the noadi had predicted, the first volunteers had stepped forward and offered to accompany her.

Elsa saw no chance to talk to Honeymaren undisturbed, let alone exchange caresses before they parted. She sighed and Yelana did not miss her glances at the young Northuldra. She therefore took Elsa aside for a moment.

“It's difficult for you, isn't it? I can see it.”

Elsa looked at her and just nodded. Words were superfluous here. Yelana put an arm around her shoulder comfortingly.

“Maybe you should think of something else and take a chance.”

“What do you mean? What chance?”

“I spoke to Alena yesterday and she told me all that happened at the fifth monolith and also about how you were able to see your mother again with her help. Think about it … Alena will leave tomorrow together with Honeymaren and today is the last opportunity for a whole year to ask her for something. Who knows if Alena will even come to visit us again, because she also told me that at her age such long journeys are increasingly difficult for her.”

Elsa looked at her broodingly for a while and Yelana pushed her head a little closer with her eyes open questioningly and her eyebrows raised, as if to ask “Well? No idea what I might mean?” and then suddenly a light came on for Elsa.

“Anna!” she groaned and Yelana nodded in satisfaction.

Elsa hugged her and said, “Oh, Yelana, thank you so much! That is the most wonderful idea I have ever heard! I must find Alena right away and ask her if she can do it for us and then I must explain it to Anna somehow. She'll probably hardly believe it.”

~~~

“Are you sure I can do this, Elsa? I mean, you're the fifth spirit and have magical powers, but I'm just normal human,” Anna said when they were on their way to the monoliths.

“Anna, you're not just 'normal' at all, think about what you've already achieved and that you never give up. You are the other side of the bridge and the nature spirits have confirmed you in that.” Elsa stopped and took her sister by the shoulders. Then she looked deep into her eyes.

“Alena is preparing a potion that will make it easier for us to be in a trance with our minds and travel to the in-between world. Besides, we'll stand together on the great stone, the direct link to this world. Just think what a huge and unique opportunity this is for you … not only will you be able to see Mama again and even talk to her, but for the very first time you will be standing inside Ahtohallan without the slightest danger of freezing to death! You wanted to accompany me there back then and now you can, even without any effort. I promise you, you will be thrilled!

~~~

Honeymaren was surprised that Elsa didn't appear, perhaps giving her hand signals again, but then she saw Alena walking towards the monoliths with her drum in her hand and a bag over her shoulder. What was the noaidi up to? Go on another dream trip before they both left tomorrow? Honeymaren excused herself to the surrounding Northuldra and promised to be back soon.

She strolled leisurely in the same direction as Alena at first, then ran after her as she crossed the edge of the forest.

“Alena, wait. May I go with you?”

“Certainly, Honeymaren, although I don't think you'll have much entertainment with me.”

“You go into a trance again … about tomorrow's journey, aren't you? That's why you brought your drum.”

Alena shook her head. “That's for an entirely different reason. Elsa wants to take her sister, the queen, on a spiritual journey to her mother, and they need me for that, because I'm only here for today.”

Now Honeymaren was surprised, and that explained why she hadn't seen Elsa again, when it was she who had insisted on meeting her. So that's why this sudden change of heart, because of her sister; Honeymaren said to herself and paced broodingly and silently beside Alena.

Shortly afterwards, they all met. The sisters wondered at first why Honeymaren had come along, but it soon cleared up when Alena explained.

“It will take me a while to prepare the potion, you three can talk in the meantime,” she said, rummaging various utensils from her carry bag, including some small chopped wood, tinder and flint.

“Can I have a word with you, Elsa? Alone?” asked Honeymaren, standing up.

Elsa nodded and excused herself to Anna, who knew very well what this must be about for obvious reasons.

“You go ahead … I'll watch Alena in the meantime.”

The latter was building a small fire and was now waiting for enough embers to form.

A few steps away, Honeymaren said to Elsa, “If we want to meet tonight, I know the perfect place for it, one that almost no one knows about and one that is not easily discovered.”

“And where exactly?”

“See that hill back there with the big ridge behind it?” Elsa looked and nodded. “Go to that hill after dark and keep to the right. Soon you will discover a hidden lake. You won't miss me, because I'm already waiting for you there on the shore and then I've also built a fire. Maybe I'll also catch a few trout that we can roast … we'll see.”

“All right, Maren, sounds good and I'll come. But let's better go back now, Alena seems to be ready in a minute.”

Alena just took a lot more out of her bag and Anna wondered.

“Tell me, how deep is your bag, all that stuff you're getting out of it?” laughed Anna, watching Alena with interest as she poured her special herbal mixture into the guksi and crushed it with a small mortar before adding some water from a small leather bag and tipping it into the pot, which she then placed in the middle of the embers.

“Well, everything you need for a trance like that. This is my prepared travel collection and doesn't take up that much space. Everything else will be added on the way,” Alena said, stirring the slightly simmering green brew with a reindeer bone.

Anna felt quite different when she saw and, above all, smelled it.

“And I'm supposed to drink that then? That's disgusting!”

Alena laughed. “It's not as bad as it looks, believe me,” she said and Elsa confirmed it to Anna when she came and sat down next to her. Honeymaren remained standing next to her for now.

“Alena, can you be with us later and can lead us to Ahtohallan? I'd love to show Anna,” Elsa said and Honeymaren's eyes immediately widened.

“Wait a minute, you're going to Ahtohallan too? I want to come with you there! No Northuldra has ever been inside the glacier, not even close.”

“I'm afraid that's not possible. I will only accompany you so far that you reach the in-between world. Everything else you must ask your mother's spirit. It is she who has the direct link to Ahtohallan … and no, Honeymaren, unfortunately the potion is not enough for that, nor my powers for three instead of two trance travellers. It is very exhausting for me, you must know.”

Honeymaren nodded with a pout, “Too bad …”

A few minutes later the potion was ready and she poured it back into the guksi to pass to Anna.

“Blow a little on it, it's still very hot. After that you just have to close your eyes and put your hand on one of the big monoliths. I will …”

At that moment Elsa interrupted the noaidi and told her a slight change of plan.

“Alena, we will use the fifth stone and sit together in the middle. You can sing your joik from the top then.”

“But I thought only the fifth spirit was allowed to step on this stone. You know what happened a few days ago.”

“That's true, Alena, but Anna and I together form Ahtohallan's bridge, the interface between man and the magic of nature. The two of us are the only ones who can do that without danger. And as you know, the fifth stone is the direct path to Ahtohallan.”

Elsa was right and nothing happened, not even a glow from the symbols on the other four monoliths. They both sat with their legs crossed on the star in the middle and Alena started her joik and drummed to it. Honeymaren stood next to the noaidi, who had also sat down at the edge of the large hole in the earth.

Elsa slowly drank half of the bowl and passed it to Anna. She pinched her nose and gulped down the green concoction as fast as she could, after which she screwed up her face in disgust and threw the guksi carelessly aside.

“Close your eyes and just let Alena's joik and rhythm carry you away. Concentrate on it completely and relax. You don't have to be afraid at all, Anna, I’ll be there with you the whole time and soon …”

~~~

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Anna didn't notice at first how she slipped over into the trance, she only saw grey light behind her closed eyelids and thought it was the daylight she was still perceiving. She wondered if the whole ritual would work here, because after all it was Elsa with the special abilities and not her. At the beginning, Anna wasn't scared of what would happen, but then the grey turned into a bright silver that wafted and moved.

Usually, Anna was not afraid of heights and had even climbed onto the castle’s roof once, but what happened next took her breath away since she couldn't believe what was happening. Anna was frightened to the core, rowing her arms in the hope of finding a foothold somewhere. But there was absolutely nothing she could grasp and instead thought she was falling into groundlessness. Anna had to gag. At least that's what she thought, because she quickly realised that her body was not reacting as she expected. She couldn't feel it at all.

Moments later, she noticed that she was floating in place, above an infinite green grassy plain far, far below her, with a wide river winding through it. Nothing here apparently had substance or weight. So her body and her sensations had been pure imagination. She turned her head to the side. Elsa hovered right next to her and grinned at her.

“Why are you grinning at me like that? You could have given me a heads up, couldn't you? That wasn't funny just now, Elsa!”

“Sorry, sis, I forgot that because of my magic I'm better prepared for unexpected things and therefore easier to cope with. It should be clear to you that we are not here at all, Anna. Our spirit, our soul is the one who is traveling into this world, while our body is still sitting motionless on the stone. Here in this timeless world you only need to think and you are already in motion. But if you want just take my hand and I'll guide you.”

Anna thought it in jest and in the next moment actually held her sister's hand.

“Wow, this is actually so easy, but then how do you explain that we can talk and hear each other when we don't even have a body here?”

Elsa tapped her temple, ��Only in here, Anna. Our minds are connected, so to speak.”

“I still don't understand how that works. How can that be?”

“I haven't given it much thought until now and just accepted it, it's just the way it is. Go ahead and try it out, sis, so you can get a feel for it. Absolutely nothing can happen, because Alena is watching over us and guiding us to our destination. Oh and don't worry about time, because it passes many times slower here than in the real world.”

“Oh no, I'd rather not. I'd just like to get to Mama as soon as possible to give her a hug and tell her all the things I couldn't.”

~~~

Just like last time, they floated down to the entrance of the glacier, only this time there was no magical bell of mist visible. Instead, Iduna was already waiting for them in an aura of light and Elsa wondered if Mother was actually watching their every move from here and thus, as she promised her then, watching over her daughters.

When Anna recognised her figure, tears of joy immediately flowed down her face and Elsa was deeply moved by her spontaneous reaction. Her sister must have thought of a heartfelt embrace, because while Elsa slowly floated down, she was already in Iduna's arms, crying.

“Mama … “

Iduna also had tears in her eyes when she could finally hold her Anna in her arms.

“My darling … oh how I wished that we would meet again one day, even if it is only this way. Let me look at you.” Iduna held her at a little distance and looked her up and down. “How grown up you have become and you look almost like I used to in my gakti. I'm so proud of you for being the Queen of Arendelle now, my darling. Elsa, come here to me too … I want to hug you both.”

Iduna finally held her two daughters together in her arms, Anna sobbed into her shoulder and Elsa internalised every second of this reunion together.

“I've already told your big sister that I'll always look after you both and I haven't let you out of my sight for a moment. What you have achieved together is just unbelievable. I am so proud of you both, especially that you have finally found each other again after all these years apart. Papa would be so happy about that.”

“'Papa? Do you know where he is? Is he … okay? I mean, like you, Mama?” asked Anna, looking pleadingly into Iduna's blue eyes.

“I'm afraid I don't know, little one,” she replied, stroking her cheek tenderly, while Elsa, still half in an embrace, sadly bowed her head.

“I've wanted to ask you the same thing all along, Mama, but events never really allowed it,” she said, and Iduna looked at her sympathetically.

“I know, my little snowflake, I've always felt that, but couldn't answer it myself. Perhaps Ahtohallan has only protected his own, since the beginning of time. You two are my direct descendants and therefore half Northuldra. But your papa, as much as I loved him …”

For a few moments, each looked down at the ground in dismay, not saying a word, and loosened their embrace again.

After a few moments, Elsa broke the silence.

“I couldn't stand it when we found the shipwreck, Mama, and from the remnants of the water of the dark sea in the ship's planks I restored the memory of your very last moment with the help of my magic. I needed to know what had happened to you both and why you had sailed to Ahtohallan. We both wondered and saw that terrible moment, heard your last words, felt the love for each other and learned the true reason for your journey. To find out the truth about my magic … of Ahtohallan.”

“I saw you begin it, Elsa, and also saw the ice sculpture of me and my Agnarr form. But I could not watch that moment to the end because the memory of our deaths was simply unbearable to me,” Iduna replied sadly. “But what you don't know is that just before the cold waves came over us, I saw a vision of the two of you in the sea, grown up and finally reunited. I called out to Gale, as I did when I rescued your father, thinking Ahtohallan had shown me, but alas I received no reply. I was still going to tell Agnarr and he hugged me, but then …”

Anna began to cry again and Iduna took her in her arms comfortingly.

“Can you tell us more about the time before, Mama? Did Papa know at some point that you were a Northuldra and saved him?” asked Anna, sniffling.

“Oh yes, my child. I told him everything that day and we also talked about you two. I felt it was a great mistake to keep you apart for fear Elsa would not be in control of her emotions and magic. Agnarr and I agreed in the end that once we were back, everything would change. And do you know why, Anna?”

“Why?” she asked softly.

“Because we both had faith in you that you could hold up the world with your love. We wanted to tell you all about Elsa because you were beginning to grow up. Your Papa still had doubts because your sister could be overwhelmed by her feelings, even for joy, not just for her anxiety. But I told him that if anyone could help Elsa, it was you, Anna. Agnarr finally agreed with me and said there was hardly anything you couldn't do. Agnarr and I had every intention of telling you everything, Anna. We loved you so much … both of you, and we believed in you. And I still do! Come here, you two, and let me hug you again.”

“Thank you, Mama, for everything and for always being there for us,” Anna said through tears and Elsa added, “and also for never giving up believing in me.”

~~~

They talked for a long time, shed tears and rejoiced together. Finally they could ask Iduna all the things that had been on their minds for a long time and got all the answers about why and what had happened in detail. Elsa and Anna poured out their hearts and when Iduna began to take Anna on a mental, fantastic journey into the past and also into the in-between world here, Elsa left the two of them to themselves and did not want to disturb.

Elsa thought and was satisfied, more than ever before. At some point Anna returned from this journey and the moment had come to ask Iduna one last question.

“'Mama, I would like to show Anna Ahtohallan and what I experienced there before I became the Fifth Spirit. Anna wanted to come with me then, but I thought it was far too dangerous. So I just sent her away with Olaf and I think she was pretty upset about it.”

“You bet I was, even Olaf was. He of all people didn't know such feelings yet and couldn't believe you just put us in that ice boat any more than I could!”

“I'm sorry, Anna. I just wanted you to be safe and I made the way back to the Northuldra camp out of ice.”

“But then we ended up on the river by the earth giants and fell into a dark cave, all because of you, Elsa!”

“But it wasn't planned that way, Anna. If you hadn't left the path, and you must have, then …”

Iduna interrupted them both abruptly. “Please stop arguing!”

Affected silence fell and they both realised that they were about to ruin a wonderful moment. They apologised ruefully.

“Well … I don't know if that's possible, Elsa,” Iduna finally said. “But I know why you ask and also what your reason was for sending Anna away. You couldn't have known it at that moment, but your sister wouldn't have survived the cold there. So your hunch was right, and Anna, in the end Elsa's action was a good thing, because otherwise you wouldn't have been able to free the forest and the Northuldra with her help. Everything happened in the end exactly as it should.”

Iduna did some soul-searching for a moment and then continued speaking. “'However, I am sorry that you had to think that your sister was dead, Anna, because she went too far. You remember that lullaby I was singing to you when you were little. I mean, so were you for a while, Elsa, and frozen. But Ahtohallan didn't allow it in the end because your sister, at the risk of her life, managed to right the wrongs of that time.”

Iduna sighed, “All right, we could go in as far as the Hall of Memories, and provided Ahtohallan helps me, you could see your experiences there again, of both of you. As you know, Ahtohallan is a river of memories and nothing is forgotten there. But I won't take you deeper into it, even I am not allowed to, because all the memories slumber there until the beginning of time.”

Elsa and Anna looked at each other questioningly and then nodded excitedly at Iduna.

“Well, wait a moment …” Iduna closed her eyes and her aura weakened a little, even flickered a bit, but it only lasted a second or two, then she nodded. “We can go.”

~~~

It hadn't gotten much later when they both came out of the trance, though they felt like days had passed. Anna sat quietly, a rapt expression on her face, while Elsa looked at her, smiling.

“There you are again,” Alena said from above. “Have you seen all you wanted and are you satisfied?”

“Oh yes, Alena, more than that,” Elsa replied half aloud, “it was a magical experience and obviously very special for Anna.” She looked around, “Maren left already?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago. She wanted to go back to the camp.”

“Oh crap,” Anna said suddenly and the other two looked at her in surprise. She opened her eyes and looked at her sister. “We forgot to ask what happened to Kolgrimr …”

~~~

youtube

Far down, at the deepest point of the glacier, where not even the semblance of daylight penetrated the thick ice, two frozen figures stood close together. One could have mistaken them for two banished memories if one stood in front of them with a torch in this absolutely deadly cold, but it was Kolgrimr and Gyda who had fallen into oblivion here.

However, what the onlooker wouldn't see was that both were still alive and kicking and trapped down there in eternal torment. Punished until the end of time and possibly also a morbid pastime for Ahtohallan to listen to their thoughts sometimes. But not only that, for Ahtohallan had made sure that both could hear each other's thoughts and berate each other eternally for their failures.

Ahtohallan ensured that their minds stayed awake and experienced day after day all that caused them the most torment and did not eventually succumb to madness. Every single day began over and over again for both of them.

Kolgrimr relived all the moments when he had failed, when he was always just about to reach his goal and still missed it. Each time he experienced the evil pranks of their invisible yet extremely effective ghost, who later turned out to be Honeymaren. And he was even more annoyed that he had been so stupid not to think of her brother Ryder, whom he could not sense and who had set the ball rolling by freeing his sister. If only he had killed him; he thought ruefully. At the end of the day, the same scenes repeated themselves over and over again, the fight at the fifth monolith, which he lost and where he was deceived by Elsa, whom he hated so abysmally, and she - in spite of all his efforts - finally achieved the liberation of Ahtohallan.

He saw her standing before him as the fifth Spirit in her radiant robe, heard Anna's laughter again and again watched the errant throw of his battle staff with the sharp blade on it before the earth giants grabbed him and his mother at the end and carried them away. Kolgrimr felt abysmal anger and equally great regret for himself. He imagined how everyone laughed at him and how absolutely no one would remember him in the years that followed.

Gyda, on the other hand, was plagued by a draugr that followed her wherever she went and lurked in the shadows. She lived through all her fears since the time when her husband left her, took her son away from her and she was cast out by the Northuldra.

She saw her son lying drunk in the tent with his new ally who wanted to be king, along with all his men who lay snoring around him in the camp. She witnessed his multiple failures and the careless way in which he had failed to stop his prisoners from escaping, on the very ship this Thord had arrived on.

She began to reproach her son and give endless advice on how he could have done better if only he had listened to her. And then he would angrily yell at her to shut her mouth and finally stop her annoying nagging. And all this repeated itself over and over again, day after day, and would go on for eternity.

For this was Ahtohallan's punishment for the unspeakable atrocities committed against his charges, the Northuldra, and the innocent people of Arendelle. For the death of Iduna and the attempt to kill her daughter, his fifth spirit, and ultimately for the betrayal of Ahtohallan himself, for Kolgrimr had separated him and the nature spirits from the world and wanted to banish him forever in order to rule himself and thus bring disaster to all.

~~~

---

Remark: I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @true--north @annaofthenorthernlights @dronning-formynder05

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #chapter 74 #bigfrozenfan #Youtube

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exeggcute · 1 year ago

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two points of consideration:

(1) I'm not sure that contrasting video essays against academic papers is the most useful approach regardless—if we're faithfully comparing "high" and "low," so to speak, then a video essay is more akin to a blogpost post and a natgeo-funded documentary is more akin to an academic paper. and in the same way a blogspot post can be well-researched and insightful, even a documentary by a reputable filmmaker can be misleading derivative horseshit (if not outright propaganda lol).

that said—and this isn't a value judgement on my part—I do think it's at least worth bringing up how the bottleneck of resources/funding/editorial review/etc. has a tendency (but not a guarantee) of producing work capable of standing on its own, solely thanks to the gauntlet it necessarily had to go through before it saw the light of day. self-published materials can and do match or even exceed these standards, but there's no system in place to guarantee it, which I think just creates differently shaped quality distribution curves between the two formats. one example I think about is (and this actually takes place in the "formal publication" camp in both counts, but still illustrates the kind of discrepancy I'm thinking about) is how malcolm gladwell used to write decent essays when he was writing for other publications with high fact-checking standards, but when he started writing his own books no one at little brown and company checked any of his claims and now he's out here publishing wildly false shit lol.

my point being that this is one guy, equally skilled, but producing wildly different quality work depending on the circumstances in which it was written. considering the variety of standards to which video essays hold (or don't hold) themselves to, and in the absence of a larger centralized body who you do trust (be it an establishment body or otherwise), I think it's fair to at least approach most video essays with caution in the same way I would also approach a published work from an author/publisher I didn't know with caution. unverified until proven otherwise.

(I also have thoughts on the way "essay" gets used as a blanket term for videos that are presenting themselves as statements of fact rather than arguments for an opinion, which is how I'd think of an essay, but that's a whole other thing lol.)

and (2) to compare a "high" and "low" version of the same format, I still think a significant flaw of both video essays and natgeo documentaries is the actual format itself—this whole plagiarism saga being a prime example. not that it's impossible to get away with plagiarism in written formats, but the searchable nature of text certainly makes it harder: if I steal someone's blog post verbatim for my own blog post, you can paste "my" text into google and instantly find who I was ripping off (so long as the page is indexed). in a hypothetical world where we had a functional search engine for video clips, you could theoretically do the same thing, but since we don't the only way to uncover plagiarists is to either hope that both videos have search-indexed transcripts or hope that someone happens to watch both videos and notices the similarities between them.

or I guess for the video hosting provider to run some kind of automated DMCA-esque content scanning script for all its content but... maybe not lol. big can of worms

shall I have a hot take too? don't mind if I do

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thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness · 4 years ago

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KAORU PERSONAL INTERVIEW SPECIAL HEADBANG VOL.27 TRANSLATION ½

The ideal figure that the guitarist who leads the band as a leader got while struggling, and the reason for his unstoppable pursuit. “When we released "CLEVER SLEAZOID", we were still chasing an ideal, and I think we didn’t reach it. We didn’t, but I feel that pursuing how we could do that, the power at that time, remains in it as something that could be only be produced at that moment. If you look at it now, I think it’s connected to reality”

Notes before reading: This is the first part of the personal interview of Kaoru from the magazine Headbang Vol.27 released on 18th August 2020. The interview is 11 pages long and this part covers the first 6 pages. As Toshiya and Die’s interviews, 2nd part is focused on his roots as a guitarist and overseas experience. You can read Toshiya’s personal interview here You can read Die’s personal interview here

You can get the magazine at Amazon Japan or CDJapan.

Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts.

Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :) -------- Text by: Yohsuke Hayakawa The first to appear in this magazine is Kaoru, the guitarist who is also the composer of the latest single "Ochita koto ga aru sora”. Starting with the process of making the single, leading up to the completion of this new song, the days of struggling to pursue the ideal sound, the originality that they got from that, and the current band that has not changed from the past intense days. What I saw on him was, the figure of a stoic leader who bet on Dir en grey possibilities and devoted himself to it. Also in the latter half of the interview with the theme of “Albums that inspired you”, he did not only talk about X Japan and national legendary bands that changed his life, but he also talked enthusiastically about the unknown world that he learnt from Hide and Tsuyoshi Nagabuchi, who he is a fan of. “I think there is something that can be challenged now” -First of all, I would like to ask you about the corona outbreak we are currently in, but it was impressive when you, with your own words, announced on SNS a live without audience ‘The World You Live In” that was held in March with the message of "it’s not the things that we can do now , it’s the things that only can be done now”. I thought the movements of DIR EN GREY with these rare activities and projects that entertained fans were summarized in those words. K: Well, that's right. There are things that can be done in the current limited situation, things that we wouldn't normally do, things that we didn't come to, and things that we can challenge now. There were quite a few things that were more like "Let's do it". Regarding lives without audience, we don’t know how long this situation will keep going on but, under these circumstances, it wasn't that much at that point in time for us to perform live. We thought it would be a plus for what we are expressing and what we are going to express in the future. Also, we tried to do it in a moment in which you could feel something. -Including the streaming that came after that, I think there are many people who felt closer to DIR EN GREY. In particular, the livestream of talk between members (DIR EN GREY LIVE ARCHIVE & SPECIAL TALK) is a project that you wouldn’t had think of before, isn’t it? K: (laughs) We don't usually talk much. -(Laughs) Moreover, I thought that it was only now that we could see an appearance of the combination of Kaoru and Shinya acting ‘as usual’. K: Well, that's right (laughs). -Is that something that you could do now, 23 years after your formation as band? K: No (laughs), the main reason is to do it is the situation right now. If this weren't the case, I think the idea wouldn’t even come up. Normally there are live performances, so I'd like people to feel it there, but we can't do that now. Well, it’s just to entertain the fans, but after all we thought it would be nice if they could feel something similar to that, feeling excited by our presence. -I see. So, regarding the status of the announced the Pia Arena MM performances for the tour final "The Insulated World -The Screams of Alienation-" in July, you probably were thinking about what do to about them until the very last minute. K: That's right. It was decided a few days before the announcement that the lives were canceled. Of course, we also made a set list, and the production side was also moving. The entirely staff were informed, and everything was working. I actually went to the venue and talked about how it would be possible to hold the lives in these conditions. However, there may be some people who couldn’t come no matter how much they tried to. There was also the risk of not knowing if you can do it until you start it. -I think it was canceled after assuming the kind of live performance that was possible to be held, but it was a really tough decision. K: Well, it couldn’t be helped. -Oh, in a nutshell. K: Yes, it couldn’t be helped, it couldn’t be helped. What we could do following the rules (the government guidelines) is the reason we couldn't do it. Tickets were sold in advance through the fanclub, but in fact, with the spreading of Corona on the way it already had a significant impact on sales. -Oh, that was what happened? K: Yes. So, in response to that, we even came up with the idea that all the arena would have seats not only the designed areas. We could do that by reducing the capacity in order to keep a social distance. That way, we also thought that we might be able to do it. However, there may still be some people who wouldn’t be able to come, and moreover, there were a lot of things that we couldn’t do in both days. Well, it was a half-way point situation. Therefore, there is no choice but when the situation calms down, to relocate the dates. -Under such circumstances, you said you were producing the single in parallel. K: Yes, we were planning to release it around the Pia Arena performances, so we have been working on it for some time. -And “Ochita koto ga aru sora” was completed. The original melody was composed by you but, the title was announced in May. I wondered if it was going to be a song that brings melancholic elements to the forefront. I was trying to imagine it. K: (Laughs) Ah, the atmosphere of the title. -Yes. The sound that we actually got is bursting with DIR EN GREY-ish aggression that explodes from the beginning including a grooved dragging guitar riff. So, to put it into words, I had the impression the style of DIR EN GREY was contained in a "super condensed" form. It's used in a kind of luxurious way, with the melody refrain being minimal by scraping off the excess. K: That’s right. This shape (final song) is like, we were really worried about it and it felt like it just got here. Along the way, there were elements that would make things more exciting, more piercing. There was more development. However, we made it in that way, but I felt like “Well, I’m tired of it” (laughs). -Hahaha. K: Rather, it doesn’t seem as interesting as usual. This is really…. words may not match…it’s somehow Japanese. I wasn’t satisfied with anything, so it felt more like I was speaking out my mind (laughs) I scraped it off though. -The reason why the song became very condensed is that all the members were looking in the same direction. K: Well, I don't know that. However, as my method, I don’t really decide (the direction) at the beginning. If you do that, the result will be in that shape and I prefer to explore the possibilities. Besides, because I don’t know if the rhythm really matches the melody or if the back-melody matches, there are many things to think about, so I don't want to decide at the beginning. Under such circumstances, I didn’t know what to do in the end. Well, I settled on something that someone said, or something that inspired me, but it was hard to get to the point where I could see it.- -As a result, I feel that the single became very DIR EN GREY-like. K: Yes, that’s right. I was working on it while thinking that there was that “likeness”

-Did you imagine the development of this single with an impressive melody popping out even though it’s aggressive? I wonder if something like this come out naturally.

K: No. I didn’t really imagine that. Even if I try to imagine, there are things that I can’t imagine at all.

-So, how does the completed form of this song look to you?

K: This time I was arranging it all the time based on the data of the tentative/provisional songs recorded at the beginning. So, with that, it was almost brought to this finished form. From that point on, Kyo sang again several times and changed it slightly but along with the melody from the beginning, it was made with that flow. However, there were setlists that each member made during this time, right? (”DIR EN GREY AUDIO LIVE STREAM 5 DAYS" that was broadcasted on YouTube in May). As you could see there, there are various DIR EN GREY, right? On the other hand, I feel that whatever we do, it will probably feel like DIRENGREY-ish.

-Something that can be hidden anymore. There is something that oozes out.

K: Well, very much, as far as you don’t do something different. I was too worried. When I told the members that I didn’t know what to do, I was told ‘You don’t have to think so much about, right?”, so I was like ‘is that so?’. In the end, the song turned out like this (laughs).

“At that time, I kept struggling to find out how to get closer to the sound I envisioned.”

-Oh, that’s what they told you. As for the form of songwriting, you work remotely regardless of the corona, right?

K: Yes, that’s always the way. So, nothing was different than usual for us.

-The change was that you couldn’t go outside between work time.

K: That’s right. I was concentrated on it all the time.

-Always? (laughs) Then, in that situation, that a member told you to not think about too much, did those words make it easier for you?

K: Well, you can open yourself to new options like “well let’s do it this way a little more”. However, it’s something that I do all the time. Year after after, it’s not finished.

-It will take some time to complete the song.

K: It takes some time. After all, if it doesn’t become something interesting, I feel like what should I do. It takes time to move from the first stage, the members listening to it and go to the “let’s do this”.

-What’s that next step?

K: Listen to the demo songs together and decide to try one from the songs that are there.I think it’s necessary to put a song and drop the world view and the atmosphere of the song clearly at some point, but it takes a long time to get there.

-I think it’s difficult to express this stage in words, but it’s the key to make songs.

K: Yes, it’s quite difficult.

-However, this is also one of the traits of DIR EN GREY but, the chorus that enters at the key points is burning with passion. It seems like it’s going to look good live.

K: As I said before, Kyo is the one who puts the chorus, so it’s normal than the rest don’t know where the chorus is until we record it.

-It doesn’t matter how the guitar riff is going…

K: Yes. It doesn’t matter. That’s why we have to practice all the time during the rehearsal before the live performance. I’m the type of person who can’t do different things at the same time, so I skip it quite a bit (laughs)

-Hahaha. You leave it to the other two (Die and Toshiya)

K: Yes (laughs).

-Then there is another retake of the song “Clever Sleazoid”. What made you pick this song again?

K: He said that he wanted to translate the lyrics into Japanese. Kyo said something like he wanted to try it because the lyrics from the original song changed. It was like, “Well, let’s try to do it”.

-Then, how about the completed form after re-recording?

K: Well, it was already released once, so I don’t really care about it(laughs) Some people liked the original, others will like the new version. Except for the lyrics, the tempo is a bit faster but overall, it hasn’t changed much.

-Originally, this song was released in 2005, but when you look back on DIR EN GREY at that time, what do you think is very different from the present of the band?

K: I would say that there is a solid feeling now. Rather than trying to catch up with anything, I think we are proceeding in a somehow calm manner. The same applies to the stage. It was 15 years ago, so we were young….it was like an apprenticeship, now we are old men, that’s what different from that time.

-What do you remember pursuing at that time?

K: At that time, I was struggling to get closer to the sound I was envisioning.

-Do you mean that you haven’t been able to achieve what you were looking for?

K: Yes. It’s the same with the songs. I was thinking about the sound aspect every, like “How can I make a powerful heavy sound” every day.

-Was that a personal thing?

K: It was for the band as well, I often talked to the members about the kind of sound I wanted to do at that time for the CDs but also for the lives as well, I wondered how could I do it. But at that time, I was struggling to understand it like, “I haven’t achieved it, but I can only show the power of pursuing it while looking for the way to reach it”.

“I haven't reached it, I can only show the pursuit and power of" how can I do it?"

-Did you see anything regarding that aspect when you started going overseas?

K: No, what I thought when we started going abroad was the importance of being ourselves. I wonder if that would be the most powerful thing. So, around 2005, I felt like I was still chasing my ideals. Like a way that I could I express them in this way. But since we went abroad… and I started to notice that being ourselves was the best more and more….. how could I say it?,..it seems that the destinations we were looking at have been pinpointed all the time. It’s not about how to do it, if we could express what was in ourselves more and more, we would change it to the consciousness that would create that kind of sound.

-That means, for example, that when you released “CLEVER SLEAZOID”, looking back, you hadn’t reached that point that you are talking about yet.

K: I think we didn’t reach it. We didn’t but I feel that pursuing how we could do that, the power at that time, remains in it as something that could be only be produced at that moment.

-True. It emits an unbelievable power and it was a proof of that struggle.

K: Yes. If I look at it now, I wonder if that it’s linked to its originality.

-Surely. After that it connected with THE MARROW OF A BONE (2007). Around that album, did you feel like you obtained that you were looking for?

K: Well, I think I did, but still at that time, I was wondering how I could do it. So I think it’s only recently that I’m thinking in this way.

-Ah, recently?

K: Yes, about “DUM” (DUM SPIRO SPERO, released in 2011). But “DUM” isn’t recent either (laughs)

-Hahaha you noticed that…that’s right (laughs). In an era when you were struggling to pursuit something, you became solid as a band. Then, the atmosphere in the band would naturally change for the better, because it means that from that moment, along with them and the music, you have reached your goal.

K: I think so. Also, what could I say about our band?..... All the members think that they have a different feeling about their knowledge and ability to imagine but, the reaction will definitely come when the song seems to settle down in a “this is it” form. Some of us will say, “I think it’s better do it this way”, while other will say “if we go in this direction, we should do this”. Therefore, that we can talk about such things has not changed from the past. While my senses are growing, after all there is still an atmosphere of pursuit in the end, in doing more and more interesting things, so I think that’s a good place for us.

-Even if you gained more knowledge and experience, it doesn’t feel strangely calm at all. K: It’s not. If that happens, it wouldn’t be interesting.

“Now I think, do we really want to do that?”

-I see. So, the mastering engineer and mixing-in engineer this time are also talented, but did you proposed the selection of these people to the members after listening to how overseas artists sound?

K: Sometimes I do. As for this engineer,Josh Wilbur, the director said he would like to try to work with him once and asked him to mix “Ochita koto ga aru sora”.He had been trying to get in touch with him for a long time, but he couldn’t, but he was able to communicate with him this time and asked, "Would you like to try it once?".

-Josh Wilbur is a person whose range of work goes from Avil Lavigne to Lamb of God. How was the result?

K: Well, I’m glad we asked for a simple one.

-After all, with that width….

K: It’s better that way. This kind of person will return what you ordered exactly as you ordered it. Sometimes no matter how much we explain it, there are people who don’t understand, so they don’t know what to do. At first, Josh used to put a lot of effects on songs and so on. Listening to that, Kyo said "nothing is good" (laughs). The exchange was interesting, though.

-If you leave the decision to someone else, something that shocks you can come out.

K: Yes. Wow, this person comes quite a bit (laughs)

-(Laughs) At that moment, you understood his way.

K: So, Josh’s first mix was more metal-ish. Also, the sound of the drums….it wasn’t like it was crazy but it felt like bumpy….it was like “mmm, it’s a bit different”, but after several exchanges with him, it went well.

-What about Jens Bogren (who has worked with many famous metal bands such as Arch Enemy and Opeth) who mixed “CLEVER SLEAZOID”?

K: It’s a different type (of mixing) from Josh. Jens has worked with us several times so far so he knows the directions.

-And the mastering engineer for the three songs of the single, including the live version of “Followers”, Brian Gardner (Linkin Park, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Eminen etc..) is the same one than “Ningen wo Kaburu” and “The World of Mercy”.

K: Yes. If you change the mastering too much, it’s hard to predict the finish result. It’s difficult to know how the mix will turn out, so if you want to change the engineer that does the mixing, you should do the mastering with the same person as before.

-I see. Because the song will be created from the scratch again.

K: Well, that’s also interesting but I’m worried about what to do if it fails…

-About the future of DIR EN GREY, of course, I think that you will only do what you can do under these circumstances but, what kind of expectations do you have?

K: We are thinking about moving towards making an album. As for concerts, it can’t be helped that we have to wait until we can do them, so I guess that I have to devote myself to making songs.

-Taking advantage of this situation, you will be able to concentrate in that.

K: Well, that’s right. I have time, so in that sense it’s easy to concentrate.

-In fact, is it time already to move into the album?

K: Yes. After Pia Arena, we were planning to go to production as we don’t have any concerts.

-For example, the single “The World of Mercy” included an acoustic version of “Dozing Green”, was there any talk about trying to do an acoustic live at these times?

K: Sometimes….that’s right. If we do that, I have to think about acoustic arrangements for that so let’s do a normal live performance (laughs). It’s not a bad idea to do a live like that because of this situation but, it’s like “do we really want to do it now?”.

-Ah, I see. Apart from your intentions it doesn’t make sense to you to simply say “We’ll do it because we can do it” in the current situation.

K: Yes, I think so.

“Without “BLUE BLOOD” I wouldn’t really be who I am now” (second part here)

#dir en grey #kaoru #headbang vol 27 #translation #interview

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childofhalloween · 4 years ago

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A Story With No Name Aka Why You Don't Ask Idoits for Dating Advice

So this was a short little one shot I got an idea for after binging Graystillplays Sims videos for days. If the formatting or anything seems off it's because I wrote it all on a phone. Well this short one shot turned out 9 pages long opps. So I hope you enjoy. Also writing an Austrillis slow burn not really sure where it goes but if anyone is interested let me know. Anyways onto the show! Thomas Alan Wenis better known as Tommy looked down at the paper in his hand. This address had to be a mistake. He had just flown down to Florida to get away for a while, see the ocean, maybe even clear up his depression. He hadn't brought much with him just an old suitcase and what little money he drained from his savings account.

That was exactly what attracted him to the random message board offering low rent living. With the price of rent all Tommy was expecting was a cot in a closet somewhere. Not that he minded as long as he had a roof and somewhere to put his black boots he didn't care.

But this, this wasn't right. Couldn't be right. The place was huge. Probably the biggest house he had ever seen. 4 floors are least and he could see the corner a large pool in the back.

He checked the address of his contact Melvin, and it matched. This had to be some sort of scheme. He knew it was too good to be true, like everything else in his life.

With a sigh he picked up his bag walking to the front door. Maybe they would be able to at least point him in the right direction.

Ringing the bell he sat out on the front step for a moment before the large oak door opened and a man dressed only in a towel and some sneakers opened the door.

"Uhhh hi. I'm sorry to disturb you but I am looking for someone at this address. His name is Melvin." Tommy said avoiding eye contact with the red haired man.

"Yeah that's me! Melvin Eugene Johnston. But everyone just calls me Florida Man." He said holding out his hand Tommy awkwardly taking it. "You must be Tommy!"

"Uhhh yeah. I'm sorry did I come at a bad time?" He said motioning to the towel.

"Huh this? Nah. Just like to feel a cool breeze if you know what I mean." He joked opening the door motioning for him to come in.

The place was almost too much for Tommy to take in but nonetheless followed Florida Man on a tour around the house.

"I uhhh….I hate to say I think I miss understood about the price." Tommy said knowing their was no way he could ever afford a place like this.

"Oh don't stress about it. Just get me the $300 whenever. Everyone here is pretty cool. We all just pitch in when we can ya know? We all take turns cleaning and cooking….well except for Aussie. Fire department said they are gonna fine us for another kitchen fire." He said casually. Tommy couldn't help but wonder what he was getting into.

"Then toss in some cash for some beers or food when ya can. Everyone just kind of does their own thing. You will see all kinds of people come and go. Right now we got a lot of our 'lifers'."

"How can you afford this place?" Tommy said looking at another large staircase.

"Oh it's already paid for. I bought it with the money from my lawsuit with Madonna."

"You sued Madonna!?!" Tommy said, not believing what he was hearing.

“Oh yeah I did. Her show was supposed to start at 8 she didn't go on till 10. I wasted so much money on overpriced water down beer I don't even remember the damn thing. Next thing I know I'm in the hospital. Apparently I fell down 12 rows of concrete stairs trying to get some nachos from concessions." He said casually as he continued. "Then I used the money I won to buy this place but it got lonely & quiet by myself so I started renting out rooms. Made for one big odd family."

Opening a door he motioned to Tommy "So here's your room. Get comfortable. When you're done feel free to head on down to the kitchen, meet everyone."

Tommy had hoped he could even find his way back down to the kitchen. It was going to take a little while to get used to this place. He still couldn't wrap his mind around all of this.

But unbeknownst to him the craziest part was yet to come. His new roommates.

Finally finding the kitchen he saw Floridaman busy having a beer next to a tall man with the most epic red beard he'd ever seen and a smaller but seemingly louder blond wearing sunglasses. And behind them both a slightly deranged looking man with jet black hair.

They all seemed to get quiet as he walked awkwardly into the kitchen.

"I was wondering if you were going to find us." Florida Man said thrusting a Bud Lite in Tommy's hand not bothering to ask if he'd want one. "Boys this is our newest guest Tommy Wenis"

The blond let out an almost mocking laugh.

"Wenis!?! Ya gotta be bloody kiddin me. Bet that must have been a rough primary career. The names are just endless!"

"Don't listen to him, he can be a jerk but he doesn't really mean it." The redhead said standing up holding out his hand cordially. "Names Tim by the way."

"Ahhh I'm just taking the piss with ya mate...kinda. Name's Trevor but everyone here likes to call me Australian Man. Ya know obvious reasons."

Finally the dark hair man with the slightly odd shaped face spoke up. "And I'm Colono. Colono Scopy"

"Uh huh...so is this everyone who lives here?" Tommy said looking at the motley crew in front of him.

"No the girls are off doing something or another. I think they mentioned girls day. I don't know I wasn't listening." Florida Man said, looking at the clock on the stove. "But they should be back any minute."

As if on cue the door opened and the sound of over lapped talking was heard.

"Speak of the devil mate." Australian Man said slightly in awe of Florida Man's timing.

A brunette wearing what looked to be a thrift store tourist shirt walked into the kitchen.

"Hey Whitley come here meet our new roommate Tommy." Florida Man said.

"Hey I'm Whitley " she shook his hand. He couldn't help but notice the slight smell of cheap bottom shelf vodka radiating off her.

Next a woman walked in with the best blond afro Tommy had ever seen.

"Hey Bab this is our new roommate Tom-"

"Maybe he'll last longer then the others." Bab said almost miserably as she walked out the back door not stopping.

"Sorry she's kin-d of…." Florida Man tried to think of the word.

"Manic Depressive." The girl with blonde and pink braids said matter of factly. "Text book diagnosis really."

"Are you a Dr?" Tommy asked everyone just laughed.

"Not in the slightest. Just been through a lot of psychologists."

"Ellis Dee, meet Tommy." Florida Man introduced.

"Tommy Wenis." Australian Man said with a snicker.

"Oh my God do people call you Tiny Wenis?" Ellis said with a giggle.

It didn't matter though because all Tommy's attention was now focused on the tall blond with golden hair walking in. He had never seen anyone like her. She was like nothing he'd ever encountered. She was…..she was…..she was absolutely stunning.

"Whose that?" Tommy asked Tim quietly.

"Huh? Oh that's Beth. Be nice, she's a sweet girl." Tim whispered back.

"Hey Beth say hi to Tommy the new guy." Florida said.

"Hi name's Beth." She introduced herself in a thick Southern accent.

"I….uhh...I'm Tommy." Tommy managed to mumble out.

All the guys exchanged an odd look.

"So where are ya rollin in from?" She asked with a smile.

"....I uhhh… I come from….places. I gotta go." He said, scrambling out of the kitchen to his room.

"That was odd." Colono said all the others nodded.

As the months went on Tommy found he had more in common with this rag tag bunch then he ever had with anyone else. He spent his days joking with Colono, drinking beers with the Florida Man & Australian Man, discussing art with Bab Ross, hitting the occasional bong with Ellis Dee, and pretty much bonding with everyone.

Everyone that is except for Beth. It seemed like every time they had a moment together his mind just blanked. Like it shut down to nothing and he couldn't figure out what the hell to say so he would say something awkward and just excuse himself.

It became apparent to everyone what was going on, everyone that was except Beth as she walked into the living room one day.

"Mind if I sat by ya hun?" She asked. He looked up at her eyes wide.

"I….uhh….murder show…..its over…..here you go. For you." He said, tossing the remote at her feet before running out the room.

"Ouch that was painful to watch." Australian Man looked up from the card game the guys had been playing.

Tommy pulled out a chair and plopped down not responding.

"Hey man, it's0 ok you will get her next time." Florid Man said putting a hand on his shoulder sympathetically….well really trying to sneak a peek at Colono's cards

"Ughhh. It's like everytime I try to talk to her I look like a total ass." Tommy grumbled.

"Yah we know, we all seen it." Australian Man joked as threw another chip in the pot.

"Well what am I supposed to say? Hey I think you're gorgeous, will you have a coffee with me?" He said, causing all the other men to laugh.

"No, no. You're thinking too much into it. What women love to hear is compliments." Tim Horton said as Bab Ross happened to walk past. "Watch this."

"Hello Bab you are looking positively radiant today!" Tim said, putting on a charming smile.

"Whatever you say Tim." Bab said with a shrug as she kept walking.

This caused all the other men to crack up.

"Laugh all you want but she acknowledged me. That's progress."

"Nah ya got it all wrong mate. What birds really dig on is a badass." Australian Man said getting up walking to the back yard. "This is how it's done boys."

Strutting slightly he slid up to Ellis Dee who was sitting outside enjoying the sun.

"Hey Ellie." He said acting casual.

"Oh hey Aussie what's up?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I fought off a whole colony of bog frogs?"

"No I don't think you have."

"Yeah I was out with some blokes and came across these wee little bog frogs must have been mating season or something because next thing I know I'm surrounded by the little wankers! So I start beating them off me. Kicking, punching them in their little frog faces. Just throwing them off left and right. Turns out the little bastards were poisonous. Woke up in the hospital 2 weeks later handcuffed to the hospital bed. Turns out those little piss frogs are on the 'endangered species' list. Luckily for me though the judge granted the coma as time served. All I got was probation and I'll be off that by next year." Australian Man said cooly before something hit him.

"Probation…..OH SHIT! My probation meeting!" He said looking down at his watch. "I'm 6 fucking months late! I can not be arrested again! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" he said running into the house leaving behind a very confused Ellis Dee.

All the guys watched as Australian Man ran through the house screaming obscenities as he looked for his cell phone.

"Anyways….what about you Florida Man. How do you talk to the ladies?" Tim Horton asked.

Florida Man shrugged and got up walking to the kitchen to see Whitley at the table drinking a large glass of orange juice.

"Bud Lite?" Florida Man offered holding out a beer. She looked at him confused.

"Its only 11 not even noon. Too early for beer." she said.

"Ok." Florida Man said walking back with both beers.

"Mornings are for screwdrivers." Whitley said to herself pour more dollar vodka into her drink.

"No, no I am sure I called. Yeah right when I landed. No I made sure I message with a Shelly? Or maybe a Jan? Or was it a Steven? I'm not sure. Mighta been a new?.....oh maybe a temp! Bloody hard to find good help huh? I'm sure it's there just check the last few months. Ring when this is all cleared up." Australian Man said, hanging up his phone not waiting for a reply on the other end. "Bloody cunts..….so what'd I miss."

"That's it. That's the only move I got." Florida Man said with a shrug.

"You guys are hopeless. No wonder I'm the only one in a relationship." Colono complained before turning to Tommy. "Tommy don't listen to them they are all going to die alone."

"Hey!"

"Fuck ya too!

"That was rude….but true."

"Women, they love romance. You can sweep a woman off her feet just by words. Just watch my example gentlemen." Colono said as he sauntered out the door to Flo Cane who was watching tv.

"Oh there she is mi amor. I was looking everywhere for you." He said sliding next to her.

"What is it? On no! Are you having issues again? Is the burning back? Have you been taking your meds? Do I need to call the Dr for you again?"

"What!?! No! That's not it!" Colono said in a panic as the sound of laughter came from around the corner.

"Hey don't listen to them. You know stress makes it worse." Flo comforted.

"It's not that!" Colono said frustrated.

"Are you sure? I know how cranky you get when you forget to take your meds."

"I'm not cranky!" Colono yelled as he stormed off.

"I'm making you an appointment just to be sure! I know you are scared of making phone calls." She shouted after him as he stormed off.

The other guys were currently in a huge pile on the floor in total hysterics none of them were able to stand. It took almost 10mins for them to calm down to breathe.

Finally collecting himself Tommy stood up straightening out his clothes. After all that advice he had finally figured it out. He knew what he had to do. Mustering up all the courage he could he moved forward before he could chicken out.

"Where are you going?" Florida Man asked as Tommy made his way outside.

"I'm going to do what I need to." He said walking out into the back yard where the girls currently huddled together talking about how weird the morning had been.

"Hello ladies. Can I talk to Beth alone please?" He asked.

Suddenly a lot made sense as they gave each other a knowing look.

"She's all yours." Whitley said with a l knowing smirk.

Silence still overcame the 2 as they sat there totally obvious to the group of 8 peering around the corner.

"What did you want to talk about?" Beth asked looking over slightly confused about what had been going on. From what she heard it's been a very confusing day.

"I…..I…." He took a deep breath before blurting out quickly. "I think you're absolutely gorgeous and would you like to get coffee with me?"

It took Beth a moment to even figure out what he had said and then another for it to really register.

"You, you think I'm pretty?" She said shocked no one had said anything like that before.

"Gorgeous actually." He said his face was burning red. "Look if I offended you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Yes." She cut him off.

"Huh?"

"I would love to get coffee with you." She said as a big smile crossed her face.

"Ok when?"

"Now?" She suggested.

"Sounds great." He said getting up offering his hand to her. "I know a great place."

They both walked right past the group of the gawkers so invested in their conversation they didn't even seem to notice.

"Oh my God that is the sweetest thing I've ever seen!" Whitley gushed.

"Guys are never that romantic. She's so lucky." Flo said wistfully.

"Man I wish I could find someone who thinks like that." Ellis mused.

"Yeah it was pretty nice." Bab said in her bored Bab tone.

"Are ya fucking kidding me right now!?!" Australian said, throwing his hands up in the air as he stormed back inside.

"Seriously? That? That's it? Thats romantic?" Colono complained following behind.

"Wow guy did have some skills after all." Florida said patting Tim on the back sympathetically as Tim mumbled to himself annoyed.

"What's their problem?" Bab asked.

"Men are weird." Whitley said all the other girls nodded in agreement.

#graystillplays #GSP #Sims #florida man #australian man #colono scopy #tommy wenis #tim horton #beth amphetamine #ellis dee #whitely airagaga #bab ross #flo caine #the man family #my fanfiction #crack

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littlemixnet · 4 years ago

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Little Mix on what it takes to survive being the most bullied band in pop

Still teenagers when they were catapulted to fame, superstardom came at a price for Little Mix. They open up to Francesca Babb about the soaring highs and crashing lows of the past nine years. It is the end of our YOU cover shoot, and I am facing the lesser-spotted sight of a barefaced Little Mix. Wet wipes swipe back and forth across their faces and, as the foundation departs in a deluge of coffee-coloured tissues, Jesy Nelson and Leigh-Anne Pinnock, both 29, and Jade Thirlwall and Perrie Edwards, both 27, visibly relax into their tracksuits and boyfriend jeans, shoulders dropping as they settle into themselves. I’m so used to seeing them contoured and camera ready that I assumed full glamour was their happy place. But perhaps the real Little Mix are not the war-paint-and-leotard-clad pop stars we’ve spent almost ten years watching grow up, but rather the four women they have become behind the glare of the spotlight. It’s those four women that I’m intrigued to meet. Since winning The X Factor nine years ago, there have been highs – selling over 50 million records globally, a significant percentage of which were self-penned, and creating enough accompanying make-up lines and merchandise to keep them and their families comfortable for the foreseeable future (recent reports suggest they have earned a combined £28.5 million to date). But there have also been lows – perpetual picking apart by both the public and the press, bullying and vitriol from online trolls. The most extreme cases of which led Jesy to attempt suicide during Little Mix’s early days in 2013 (she regards a tweet from the controversial Katie Hopkins – ‘Packet Mix have still got a chubber in their ranks. Less Little Mix. More Pick n Mix’ – as the ‘pinnacle point’ for her depression) and pushed Perrie into an ongoing struggle with anxiety. Fame has changed them. In some ways they are still youthful and silly – dropping phrases into conversation that wouldn’t be out of place in a playground – yet, in others, they are wise beyond their years, diving headfirst into battles on feminism, race and mental health. They’re fun enough to be light relief, smart enough to inspire a generation struggling with the pressures of youth and social media even before a pandemic was thrown at them, and ballsy enough to leave Simon Cowell’s record label because they didn’t feel he had their best interests at heart. ‘It’s never really been a cruise, has it?’ Jade ponders, a copy of social activist Bell Hooks’ 2002 feminist theory Communion: The Female Search For Love in her hand (not for show, I might add; when I ask her about it, she is well versed in its content). ‘It’s either been a really big high, or a really big low.’ Jesy, who has found herself the target of some of the cruelest contempt from the world outside Little Mix, agrees: ‘Some of the best times, some of the worst times.’ Comments on her weight, her looks, her place in the band, comments that she should take her own life, all led her into a deep depression and the aforementioned suicide attempt. Her documentary last year, Jesy Nelson: Odd One Out, revealed her journey through it all and, while harrowing, it is essential viewing on the realities of growing up in a world dominated by social media. ‘Before we got in the group, I never looked at myself and thought, “I don’t like that” – I don’t think any of us did. I never thought, “Oh god, I’m fat”, and then we got in the industry, and we all started wanting to change things about ourselves. It’s so sad. There are things [in the past] I definitely wish I hadn’t done,’ she says, referring to the suicide attempt, in which she took an overdose after a two-year battle with depression and an eating disorder. ‘But would I be the person I am today if I hadn’t gone through all of that?’ ‘There was a time when it was worse than it is now,’ adds Leigh-Anne, who has increasingly used her own Instagram channel to vocalise her experience of racism, both overt and underlying, throughout her time in the band. ‘I guess we’re taking steps forward, but I fear for my [future] daughters…’ ‘It makes me not want to have a kid,’ agrees Jesy. ‘Those insecurities that we all have now because of social media, imagine having that embedded in you as a child?’ Before you write them off as four very lucky girls ungratefully complaining about a lifestyle so many dream of, I should point out that they are fully aware of the paradox of their privilege. I suppose the point is, it’s not too much to ask to not be bullied to the point of hospitalisation as a by-product, is it? ‘Little Mix has changed our lives for the better, and our families’ lives, and we have achieved so much,’ says Perrie. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ agrees Jesy (a warning I will hear repeatedly throughout our hour together, perhaps thanks to almost a decade of their quotes being blasted out of context for click-bait). ‘I’m not going to sit here and say we’ve got a terrible life, because we haven’t, but I do think our innocence was taken from us.’ It’s a while since the girls last did any press. Lockdown saw a halt to any activity they had planned, including the launch of their new talent show, BBC1’s Little Mix: The Search (in which they, well, search for a new band to mentor and join them on tour). But the time apart has not diminished their ability to finish each other’s sentences and jump to each other’s aid. It has, it seems, been really rather good for them and allowed them to come back fired up for the release of their sixth album, Confetti, which came out this week. ‘It was needed,’ agrees Jesy. ‘We’re never not with each other and we’re always busy. Our mornings start early, we finish really late.’ Being at home has meant more time spent with their families, with Jade even starting her own show on MTV with her mum Norma. Called Served!, the self-filmed series saw the pair interview celebrity drag queens and challenge each other to cooking competitions. ‘I love drag culture,’ she says, ‘and me mam was by herself in lockdown, so I thought it’d be something nice to keep her entertained.’ ‘Your mum could be on Loose Women,’ Leigh-Anne muses. ‘Imagine our mams on a show!’ shrieks Jade. ‘Nobody else would get a word in edgeways with my mam,’ laughs Perrie. ‘Ooh, when Debbie goes off on Twitter,’ says Jade, of Perrie’s mum’s habit of weighing in on comments from haters. ‘My mam will text me, have you seen Debbie’s been going off on someone!’ It is interesting that all four talk frequently about their mums throughout our chat, and yet there is no mention of fathers. While their mums often appear on Instagram, a sighting of Perrie’s dad on her 23rd birthday was extremely rare. Perhaps the Little Mix dads’ absence in the narrative is because the four girls were predominantly raised by their mothers (all of their parents separated when they were younger), and another reason the group’s bond is so tight. Little Mix are each other’s wall of arms, their own personal bodyguards. Jesy, they unanimously agree, is Scary Mix (although I find her a delight), which is interesting given her own inability to bat off other people’s words. ‘When it’s you on your own dealing with something personally,’ Jesy says, ‘It’s completely different. You feel so vulnerable alone, but we are a force when we’re together.’ It’s not hard to see, in today’s social-media obsessed society where there is little retribution for cruelty, why four attractive, successful young women, with attractive, successful young boyfriends (two footballers – Perrie dates Liverpool’s Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Leigh-Anne is engaged to Watford’s Andre Gray – while Jade is with Rizzle Kicks singer Jordan Stephens and Jesy is going out with Our Girl actor Sean Sagar), who seem to be living a dream life have found themselves at the heart of a whirlwind of vitriol. There was the infamous spat with Piers Morgan, in which he mocked them for posing naked but for the insults that have been hurled at them painted on their bodies. He accused them of using sex to sell records and called them ‘foul-mouthed, talentless, clothes-allergic little dimwits’, which is not how I find them to be. ‘I take Piers with a pinch of salt,’ Jesy says, rolling her eyes. ‘He does it to cause drama, so I take no notice. When we won The X Factor, we didn’t look like a generic girl band: we’re all different shapes and sizes, we didn’t dress sexy, so immediately everyone was, “What’s this?”’ ‘Usually, when you see a girl band, they’re perfection, they have six-packs – and we didn’t,’ continues Jesy. ‘People saw us as kids, so even though we’re now women, people still think of us that way, so when we come out on stage in leotards, they think, “That’s disgusting!”’ ‘One Direction didn’t get the s**t we get, because they’re men,’ states Leigh-Anne. ‘It’s like, “They’re four girls, let’s come at them”. As soon as it’s girls, they think, “Oh you slag.”’ ‘When it’s men, it’s celebrated, but the minute women sexualise themselves and feel powerful doing it, we’re told to rein it in,’ adds Jade. ‘We’re conditioned to think that women are there to be these innocent and pure beings and the minute you step out of that, it’s carnage.’ Little Mix, however, are not scared of embracing that carnage and of sparking a debate. For their show The Search, Jade describes how it was important for them to set the tone on respect when each new person auditioned. ‘Because we are small women, it’s important to show people that they need to respect us, that we know what we’re talking about and we need to be listened to,’ she says. ‘There’s no nastiness,’ continues Jesy about the show, which has been praised for modernising and freshening up the age-old TV format. ‘There’s no making anyone feel uncomfortable for entertainment.’ They also insisted a large part of their budget be dedicated to looking after the contestants’ mental health, understanding, first hand, the pitfalls of talent shows. The Search is not their first attempt at diversifying their talent. As a group, they have LMX make-up line and also a perfume, Style By Little Mix. Subsequently, they have become expert businesswomen, refusing to make the mistakes of pop groups past, so often left completely penniless at the end of their careers. ‘I remember walking into an early label meeting and saying, “This is who we want to be, this is the campaign we want, this is the imagery we want,”’ says Jade. ‘We knew our brand from the get go and we very much steered that ship.’ It’s a long way from their (as Jesy puts it) ‘working-class backgrounds’. Since joining the band, each one has bought their mum a house and, while their tale is not entirely rags to riches, the jump from Primark to Prada in recent years has certainly been significant. When it comes to business, Perrie describes herself and Leigh-Anne as the ones who will often seek a compromise in difficult situations, while they send Jesy and Jade in when deals need to be made. ‘Jesy’s the badass,’ Perrie laughs. ‘Whenever I’m scared, I’ll stand behind her. She’s the one who puts her foot down in a boardroom full of men and says, “It’s going to be this way.” But we pick our battles. We don’t just argue about every decision – it’s when we feel we have to.’ ‘Nobody could say that we are difficult, and if they do, they’re lying,’ says Leigh-Anne adamantly. Adds Jesy: ‘We know what we want, and we know what kids want.’ Little Mix have lived over a third of their lives in the spotlight. They’ve seen how things work, how things don’t, and they’ve learnt how to cope with it all. The lows may have been spectacularly low, but the highs have surpassed any of their expectations. Their story is not your classic fairytale, but it’s one they have learnt they can write their own ending for. If the Little Mix I meet today is anything to go by, I wouldn’t expect that ending to come any time soon. Little Mix’s new album Confetti is out now. Their movie LM5: The Tour Film will be in cinemas nationwide on 21 and 22 November.

#little mix #you magazine 2020 #article #2020 #confetti promo

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nosferatyou · 5 years ago

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Double Indemnity: Ch.1 (Josh Kiszka x Reader)

Summary: After an incident their freshman year they could barely stand to look at each other. Now it’s their senior year and are grouped together for their final project. What could go wrong?

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.3k

Authors note: Well. I flipped into Josh’s lane and thought of this sucker and couldn’t get it out of my head. After I heard the story behind the writers of “Double Indemnity” I just had to make this. Heres to me hopefully finishing a series! Enjoy!

Let’s go back to the day when I “met” Josh Kiszka and when I actually met Josh.

It was the summer before my freshman year of college, and at that point, film sets weren’t a stranger to me. But I sure didn’t have the experience that most of the already film majors around me had. I was roped in by my long time friend Jack who I hadn’t spoken to since graduation, but due to the circumstances, he needed as many crew members as possible. He had 2 days to write, shoot, and cut together a short film. I was a PA (production assistant) and was frantically running around helping in any way I could. I was smart enough to stay out of the way and speak up when needed.

I met most of the crew except one, the cinematographer/camera op, who was the busiest on set. The exception being Jack, who was the director. I heard the camera OP was only there because he had the nicest camera, but my mind may have tainted what I heard about him that day.

With only an hour to spare we had finished the film. All of us dehydrated and starving, sleep-deprived too. I was cradling a horrendous migraine from the lack of water and was ready to leave before someone suggested we go to Cookout. Which is arguably the best food at 3 am.

Against my will, I was dragged to the fast-food restaurant with the rest of the crew. At that point, I was barely conscious and sat in the back seat of Jack’s car. The stranger cinematographer who I hadn’t noticed was next to me until he tapped my shoulder. With a concerned look, asked me if I was okay and needed anything. Which was nice of him considering we’d never spoken.

After the short exchange of words, he never seemed to fully leave my side. May it be his glances from across the table with the same concerned look, or him bring me cups of water, which I still don’t remember him getting up for.

After that night it would be months until I see him again.

I didn’t expect him to be in my Post Production class, but I was definitely happy to see him. It was my first day of classes and to see a familiar face was a nice change of pace compared to whirlwind of a day. Though it wasn’t too long after that that my feelings for him changed.

If you’re a film student you’re going to edit a Gunsmoke fight scene, it is basically a right of passage. Anyways I was an experienced editor and of course, was going to cut the fight scene to the beat of an Ennio Morricone song. If we were going to work on a western scene then Ennio was a must.

I was damn proud of my work, I seemed to be one of the best editors in the class, josh being right there with me. We didn’t exchange many words, but we kept each other company by simply sitting next to each other.

Then came the critique day, when everyone watches your video and gives you notes. Usually its never good notes.

After our class watched it everyone had a lot to say, mostly over small slip-ups I didn’t notice, that’s normal. Josh’s video was next and the moment the music played I was livid, he had used the same exact song, even cut it the same way I did. The worst part was that no one had anything bad to say about it, all good comments. I kept it contained, for the most part. I didn’t verbally say anything, but my constant tapping and dirty looks in his direction said otherwise. I don’t think he’d noticed.

I waited until everyone left and simply gave him a piece of my mind. Maybe I snapped at him… either way, it led to us getting into our first screaming match. Josh saying he “didn’t” copy my video and me disagreeing. I honestly don’t remember how it ended, but I do remember us getting kicked out of the building for it.

Anyways that was three years ago, and we still hate each other. Yet here we are still in all the same classes, but the difference is we have silent warfares. Constantly competing with each other, showing each other our higher grades, and besting each other’s videos. I can barely stand to hear him talk anymore, but I do have to say. He knows how to make a good line.

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Even with the cold chill of the November air prickling my skin and the wind whipping my hair, my mood couldn’t be damped. Maybe “chill” is an understatement. Living in “The City by the Lake” aka Chicago brings on the harshest of winters, and as crazy as it seems, I always weirdly miss it when I go back to Michigan. Sure it has it’s many feet of snow, but Chicago makes the wind weirdly dazzling.

This is my last coffee, I’ll switch to tea. Is something I say every morning when I get up before classes, but here I am again, with an out of place cold brew in hand and a raging caffeine addiction. In hindsight, it is better than my previous vice, cigarettes, but the headaches it brings on is just as bad as missing a cig. My one hand shoved in my pocket and the other is clutching the same cold brew as before. I may have said that I couldn’t be bothered by the weather, but I’m not immune.

As soon as I enter Columbia’s Media Production building everything becomes flush with warmth. Its a bit uncomfortable really. I remove my gloves and quickly checked my phone, affirming that I’m right on time as always. As I stroll through the halls I tune more into the music, enjoying my free time. There is just something about Chet Baker and Chicago that just mixes so well.

Todays a good day though, it marks my one year of quitting cigs. Did I mention that I quit? Because I quit. Anyways my roommate made a big deal out of it, I also figured out the coolest riff, I’m kind of shit at making music out of thin air so it’s a big day.

After taking the long way to my Directing class (Cinema Directing III if you want to get technical) I finally made it to the small class. Most of the class was there, luckily for me my two-year seat partner, Gwen, was already there, waiting where she always does. We met in our Single Cam 1 class and have been inseparable since, well actually Gwen, Cora (the previously mentioned roommate), and I have been inseparable ever since.

I made my way to my usual seat and peeled my overworn leather bomber jacket off, already feeling more comfortable. Slumping back in my chair I lazily grabbed my sketchbook and pencil out of my bag. Its become a kind of habit to draw my professors and classmates every day, something is just so fascinating about their compositions. I got to work on Gwen who was hunched over, focusing on her book in front of her. I got to work and as soon as I finished up on the basic shapes she quickly sat up, focusing on me.

“You ready for the final project?” She questioned, stealing my coffee in the process.

“I’ve been working on a few ideas already, but then again I don’t know the assignment yet. I do know I will be grabbing the usual 4 of you the moment he says “groups.”

“Heres to hoping we can pick- Oh!” She almost spilled my coffee when she interrupted herself.

“I forgot to text you! Happy one year of being ciggy free!” She exclaimed, handing me back the bottle.

I took a swig from the bottle when she gave it back. “Well thank you, darling. I feel like having clean lungs shouldn’t be such an achievement, but I guess here we are.”

“Be proud! Besides gives us a reason to head to Jerry’s.”

“We’d celebrate over anything if it meant going to Jerry’s and getting pissed.” I smirked at her.

“Well. You got me there. Anyways you are right, we will be getting drunk out of our minds tonight. Bless the man who decided to open a bar directly next to your apartment building.” She said, with a playful smile on her lips.

“Bless him indeed.” I laughed.

At that moment I locked eyes with none other than the aforementioned, Josh Kiszka. It’s oddly enough what we do every time we see each other. Which is more often than I think both of us care for. But seeing him roll his eyes every time I glare at him is kind of fun.

I followed him with my eyes as he sat down in his seat, instantly sticking his nose in- wait what is he reading? I focused and realized he was reading the screenplay for Tarantino’s “Reservoir Dogs.” Where the hell did he even get that?

My eyes snapped up to the professor when I realized he started class.

“Alright, I’m just going to jump into this. Today we start on your final projects, and I think it’ll be very fun. A challenge for sure, but fun nonetheless.”

I slipped a sly smile to Gwen, already thinking of the best ideas in my arsenal to use.

“In groups, you all will be recreating a favorite film, but it should max be 20 minutes long. Now that’ll be your job to rewrite and format it so you can fit in the timeframe. Oh, and I swear to god if another person does Pulp Fiction I will actually scream. You can hold me to that.”

Oh Jesus okay this will be hard as hell, I guess something with a simpler plot will be easy. Ooh, or something that’s so overcomplicated I can rewrite it so it’s simpler. What’s something that’d be good for Gwen, she’s a good actress, but she can only play so much-

“I already have your groups picked out let me just put them up on the board.” My professor said, searching for the list on his computer.

Oh god. He’s never done this. We always pick groups. If Gwen and I aren’t grouped together I may just riot. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him drag the document over to the screen, so I quickly directed my attention to it.

I searched all of the lists, finally finding my name at the top of group four. Rob, Eric, and- Oh shit Gwen! Wait. There’s one more. The moment I saw the J I knew exactly who it was. My eyes darted over to Josh’s seat and had the same look I could only guess that was on my face. We both glared at each other, if we stared any harder we’d burn holes in each other.

“Motherfucker!” I whispered to Gwen, trying not to raise my voice.

“What? We are in the same group.” she looked back over to me with confusion on her face. She followed my eyes to the equally angry man across the room from me.

“Oh, shit..”

“Oh shit is right! I can’t work with that guy, I swear to god… Damn it, I can’t think of an insult! Quick help me!” I stammered out, you could practically see the steam coming out of my ears.

“Um... You can’t work with that Frodo look alike?” She suggested, both of us whispering to each other now,

“I’ll take it. I can’t work with that Frodo look alike! He’s just gonna take all of my good ideas and throw them into the lava like that fucking ring. Wait is it Frodo or sam who throws it? Know what, I don’t care. Look at what he’s making me forget important plot points in movies. I can’t work with someone who hinders my thinking process.”

“First off, Gollum falls in with the ring in hand. Secondly, drink your coffee and focus on what movie we should do. Suggest something so good so fast that it’ll make his head spin.”

She put the almost empty coffee in my hands and I took a swig, still glancing back at josh, making the same face.

Gwen started to ramble on, her words in the back of my mind. All I could focus on was wanting to be in any other group than his, even Leonard. He refuses to watch a Tarantino film, and simply because he thinks he’s beyond that. Leonard is someone I talk to if only necessary.

I tuned back in to hear. “I mean if you think about it, as much as you and Josh are to Frodo and the Ring. You’re more like Billy Wilder and Ray Chandler. I mean they hated each other, but damn if they weren’t good writers. Plus, they respect a good line-”

Inspiration was swept over me. I knew exactly what we had to do. Before I knew what was happening my feet carried themself over to Josh’s seat. Same as before, we both had the same expression, except this time it was one of surprise.

“Double Indemnity!” I blurted out a bit too loudly.

He seemed even more confused. “Double insurance money?” He questioned.

“Fuck. No. It’s the film we are going to make. It’s a fantastic idea, and it’s happening. Not even you can argue with me!” I sped out.

He sat for a moment in thought, his brows furrowed together and a cliche hand positioned on his chin.

“Fine.” Is all he said, his arms were crossed. He seemed defeated.

I simply turned on my heel and headed back to my seat. An overexcited grin plastered to my face.

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka fic #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka x reader #double indemnity #my fic #double indemnity series

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amandaoftherosemire · 6 years ago

Text

Bulletproof -- Part Eleven

Fandom: Marvel/College AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Gamora, Natasha Romanoff, Thor Odinson, Sam Wilson, Loki Odinson, Peter Quill, OFC Lilah Robbins

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,450

Format: Series (Complete)

Warnings: 18+ only, Smut, language, binge drinking, sex in public, intoxicated confessions, angst.

Summary: You and Bucky go with Gamora and Nat to a frat party. Shenanigans ensue. Bucky hears some hard truths.

A/N: Look, it had to happen at some point. That’s all I’m saying.

Banner by: @hellzzzbelle

Part Ten here

Part Eleven

You walked to Quill's fraternity house with Gamora and Nat leading the way and Bucky's arm around your shoulders. He'd insisted on walking with the three of you, claiming he needed protection and knew he’d be safe with the three of you.

“Well,” he murmured hotly into your ear, “safe with them. You’re another story, babygirl.”

Your skin went hot and your lips twitched. Snorting, you drilled your finger into the sensitive spot on his stomach. “Shut up.” Your voice was a stern mutter, but your face was a study in smug.

On the sidewalk ahead of you, Gamora and Natasha shared an amused eye roll at the two of you. They were both a little baffled that the two of you seemed to think you were fooling anyone. Still, even Natasha had come around by the time you reached the party, too charmed by the energy of fun and affection between you.

She'd believed Gamora when she'd insisted that Bucky was stupid in love with you, but she didn't necessarily think that meant he wouldn’t hurt you. Seeing you light up under his obvious devotion, however, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. The fact that you were clearly setting the rules and boundaries, with Bucky following your lead, helped her understand why neither Gamora nor Steve had interfered in any way.

That you were oblivious to the reality of the dynamics of your relationship with Bucky had her deeply concerned, though. She worried that you were laboring under misconceptions fueled by assumptions. A student of cause and effect, she knew no good could come of confusion, unless there was an order underlying the chaos. As you didn't know you held the reins, you couldn't be directing the course. Natasha planned to discuss this with Gamora at the first available opportunity.

To that end, about an hour after they'd arrived, she went looking for Gamora and instead found Bucky, in the goddamn laundry room, lip-locked with Lilah fucking Robbins. Her face cold and cruel with the plans of revenge running through her head, Natasha pulled her phone from her pocket and began recording.

Bucky was in full-blown panic mode. Gamora had come and taken you from him, laughingly insisting that she needed you for 'girl talk'. (He shuddered to think what girl talk might entail when the girls were you and your friends. He’d never met more dangerous women.) Bucky had decided to play it safe and stay in the crowd around the beer pong table where Sam was winning against a progressively more intoxicated, and thus sassier, but no less able, Thor Odinson. He was having fun until he saw Lilah Robbins stalking toward him in a tight dress designed to raise the blood pressure. He’d made his first mistake by running; predators cannot resist a chase.

Which is how he found himself once again in another frat house laundry room with a pretty girl he was wishing was you wrapped around him.

This time, however, he'd said no before the wrapping.

Trying to be gentle, but also supremely pissed, Bucky put both hands firmly around Lilah's shoulders and yanked her away from him.

"Goddammit, woman," he spat out, infuriated to find himself in this position and utterly sick to his stomach in fear that he'd be the unluckiest bastard on the planet and you'd come walking in on this farce. "No means no, Lilah, the fuck?"

"Oh, come on, Bucky," she purred and pouted, "You know you didn't mean it."

"I told you," Bucky didn't let go of her shoulders, the look in her eye telling him she'd be crawling all over him if he did, "I’m not interested. Even if I was, I'm involved with someone." With that, he pushed her back gently, but with disgust. "And if I pulled bullshit like this, it'd be sexual assault."

Bucky turned to walk out but paused when Lilah shot back, her voice full of venom, "Who is it? Y/N? The girl next door?"

"Keep your fucking mouth shut about y/n," he growled without turning around, anger coming alive in his voice for the first time.

"Get some standards, Bucky."

Rather than respond with the obvious, Bucky simply scoffed, “Please.” With only that, he walked out, so irritated by the whole thing that the small redhead who'd melted into the shadows behind a stack of boxes near the door easily escaped his notice.

Natasha sent you the video along with a text instructing you to listen to the end before putting the phone back in her pocket and easing into Lilah's view with a smile. She figured Bucky deserved a little assistance since he'd done so well.

"I have to say,” she spoke conversationally as the other woman spun around in surprise, "I don't know why you're wasting your time there." The pretty smile took on a sultry edge. "What you need is some imagination. If you're looking to fuck someone unsuitable--" she shrugged and moved forward, "--there are all sorts of options."

Natasha's smile spread, sultry turning feral, when her meaning struck Lilah and was considered rather than rejected. Hey, the things she did for her friends.

After his narrow escape, Bucky ended up looking through half the house before he found you back in the den. Infuriatingly, he found you in Thor's arms. Granted, you were giggling and shaking your head as Thor bounced up and down and chanted, "Keg stand! Keg stand! Keg stand!"

Gamora was laughing and trying to muffle Quill, who was chanting with Thor and inspiring others to join in.

"What're you doin' with my girl, there, Odinson?" Bucky's voice sailed across the chant and had your head snapping toward him eagerly.

You'd been looking for him when you found Thor, who'd lost thoroughly to Wilson and wanted to share his good fortune. You were careful with alcohol under normal circumstances; a frat party meant one beer in a bottle that you'd fill with water when the beer was gone. You'd long ago found that you had to have a drink in your hand, or you'd spend the night fending off offers to get you more alcohol.

On the other hand, Bucky had just called you his girl in front of a whole crowd of your friends. Tonight was shaping up to be a different kind of frat party. That was proved over again when Thor grinned happily at you and squeezed until you squeaked and boomed, "KEG STAND!"

By this time, Bucky had made his way through the throng to your side. Thor set you down but grabbed your hand to draw you toward the keg in the kitchen. You shot Bucky a look of amused exasperation but didn't resist. "Apparently I'm doing a keg stand," you remarked dryly as you allowed Thor to lead you astray. "You wanna hold my legs, Bug?"

Bucky looked sharply at you, a warning in his face in response to the mischief in yours. "Like I'd let anyone else," he retorted with a smirk as he followed you into the kitchen.

"Gamora!" you called over your shoulder, thinking about the surprise you had for Bucky, "Come make sure I don't show everyone my ass!"

Once you were in the kitchen, Thor pushed the crowd around the tapped keg out of the way. He picked up the tap spout and gestured toward the squat metal cylinder like Vanna White toward your new car. You laughed again, though you were highly uncertain about this particular risky decision. You hadn't done lasting damage to your body by binge drinking, but you didn't like to push your luck, either.

Still, Bucky had that sexy grin on his face, the one that incited you to swing higher, jump farther, go faster. He'd let you down the last time you'd crashed and burned, but these days you were willing to give him a chance to make it up to you. When Gamora gave you a searching look, you smiled fully at her and took a firm hold on the metal rim at the handles. Bucky wrapped his left arm around your legs, careful to smooth his hand over your knee-length dress to preserve your modesty, and lifted them up over his shoulder until you were upside down.

Gamora stepped back to clear a little space around you as Bucky had your ass literally covered but smirked a little when she saw the unimpeded view of your cleavage Thor was currently enjoying.

"Tug my ear when you're done, cutie,” Thor rumbled with his beautiful smile. You gave him a hot look from under your lashes, remembering that Thor loved when you’d played with his ears. You didn’t take the flirting personally, despite the endearment. Thor was a handful; it was part of his appeal. Sometimes you didn’t know how you handled the overabundance of attractiveness around you.

“Quit looking at my tits, Odinson,” you muttered with a smirk before taking the offered spout.

Thor’s grin flashed. “I’m only human, cutie,” he answered before pressing the button and starting the count.

You weren’t paying any further attention, drinking quickly. You planned to hold out for a ten count, long enough to salve your pride but not so long you ended up plastered and puking. At least, that was until you heard Thor’s brother shout, “No push-up?! Then it's not a keg stand!”

Your hands tightened around the handles as Bucky's arms tightened around your legs. The moment he heard the taunt, he knew you'd be rising to the bait. You never could resist a challenge. He wasn't disappointed when you pushed up once, twice, three times to Thor's roar of laughter. When you finished the third push-up, you reached out and grabbed Thor's ear, running your thumb over the lobe and making him laugh harder. He dropped the spout as Bucky carefully lowered your legs to the floor.

You were only just upright when Thor was scooping you up until you were sitting on his shoulder above the crowd as he shouted, "Bow before your Queen, brother!"

From your position on his shoulder, you easily met Loki's eyes with a raised eyebrow and barely restrained glee. With a mocking smile, the wickedly handsome man swept a gallant bow. When he met your eyes again, he nodded an acknowledgement and stated, "Keg stand."

Bucky stood, dumbstruck, smiling up at you as you threw your head back and laughed while Thor set you back down. There were moments when you were so beautiful, when the love rose up into his throat and nearly choked him. He could only stand and grin at you in moments like these, lost in the wonder of it.

Gamora wasn't a romantic; she didn't have that luxury, but even her heart sighed a little at the look of pure, unrelenting adoration all over Bucky as he stood and stared at you. You hadn't noticed; once you were on your feet, Thor was kneeling before you, calling you Keg Queen and you were rolling your eyes and pushing him over. Unable to stand it, and wanting to give Bucky a hand, she decided to intervene through distraction.

"My turn!" she announced gaily and stepped forward. "Thor, hold my legs. Peter, grab the tap."

Thor turned toward her with delight as Peter stepped forward with a grin. Gamora rarely played party games of any sort; both men were excited to corrupt her. As soon as Thor was out of the way, Bucky was grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the room. "I need to talk to you."

"But, Bucky," you could feel the alcohol start to hit you as you tried to keep up and pull your phone out of your pocket at the same time, "I've never seen G do a keg stand!"

To your surprise, amusement, and excitement, Bucky was pulling you into what looked like a linen closet, but it was full of sports equipment. You kicked a muddy cleat out of your way and chuckled, "Bucky, you romantic."

You stuffed the phone back in your skirt pocket, the video Natasha had sent you forgotten. You'd been about to watch whatever she'd sent when Thor had started in about keg stands but being alone with Bucky in a closet had other things taking priority.

Namely, Bucky's mouth as it came down on yours, his arms sliding around you to pull you in close. His lips were soft, but his kiss was hard, almost bruising as his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His metal arm was tight around your waist as you pressed your body against his from thigh to breast, kissing him back with equal fervor.

Your hands came up to tangle in his hair, your fists gripping for leverage as you shuddered in desire. Tearing your mouth from his to suck in a breath, you arched your neck when he buried his face in your throat to take the skin between his teeth.

“Bucky, what the hell?” you gasped, your tone both amused and appreciative as you rocked your hips against his erection.

“I don’t like Thor’s paws on you,” he muttered against your throat, his own paws growing more avid as the hums of pleasure sounding in your throat urged him on.

When Bucky had teased about talking you into a closet to make out, you hadn't expected to be dragged into one to be ravished. You weren't complaining; you were simply surprised. As Bucky's annoyed statement seeped through the fog of lust his mouth and hands had created, you jolted in shock. "Are you jealous?" you asked in a voice rich with surprise.

"Are you kidding me?" His hands had wandered by now down to your ass to grip and lift to press you with his body against the wall. You assisted him by wrapping your arms around his neck and hitching one leg around his hip to open yourself to him. He lifted his head from your throat to glare with desire tinged with green into your eyes. "Of fucking course I'm jealous. I don't want anyone's hands on you but mine."

You shuddered in arousal when Bucky growled the word mine before taking your mouth with a ferocious kind of tenderness. He'd never kissed you like this before, with lightly punishing nips of his teeth and soothing sweeps of his tongue. His kiss, his touch held a wealth of emotion as he worshipped you with hands and lips though both also held frustration and impatience.

You pulled your mouth from his again to turn your head and take his earlobe between your teeth as he skimmed his hand up the back of your thigh and under your skirt. When his hand slowed at the discovery that you weren't wearing anything under the dress, you laughed throatily in his ear and whispered, your words and breath sending chills down his spine and making an already painful erection excruciating, "I don't know why. I would never fuck Thor in a filthy frat house closet."

The bass pumping through the wall was no match for your heart when with almost rough movements, Bucky disentangled himself from you to spin you around. Your hands came up to press against the wall as you bent to push your ass against the hard-on trying to burst from behind his zipper.

He reached behind him to grope for the doorknob, praying for a lock. “Thank god,” you heard him mutter right before his flesh hand cupped a breast while the other slipped up under your skirt to slide between your thighs. You moaned a little as Bucky nuzzled into your neck behind your ear, his breath sending goosebumps over your skin even as your hips rocked fretfully against his hand.

“Babygirl,” he purred, and you whimpered in response, "I'm not going to argue, because I'm not an asshole." As he spoke, he was arranging you just so, stepping back and pulling your hips with him as you kept your hands against the wall to brace yourself. He stayed wrapped around you, his teeth scraping over the nape of your neck. "Or an idiot. But that's not what I meant, and you know it."

The next second, he was straightening to unbutton his jeans and shove his underwear down with his metal hand. The other slipped between your legs from behind, his fingers sliding smoothly into you, wanting to feel you on his skin. Despite the quick, rough foreplay, you were already more than wet enough. It never seemed to take any time at all to get you ready, at least with him.

Bucky couldn't resist taking a moment to enjoy the feel of you, thrusting two long, rough digits gently into you, then ever so slowly pulling them from your soaking pussy. You bucked your hips in irritation when his calloused fingers began to slide slowly back into you like he had all the time in the world and wasn't banging you in a closet during a party.

"Bucky! Go-o!" You used the same childish singsong you'd always used when you were getting impatient, the same moment as Bucky was pushing his cock into you, his laugh rumbling through him and into you.

"Baby," he smirked, his voice almost aching. His fingers dug into your hips, the first thrust making you gasp. "I love when you ask for it."

A while later, Bucky covered your exit from the closet after peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. You ran to the bathroom to clean up, ruing your decision to not wear underwear when you remembered what kind of house you were in. You were closest to the half-bath near the mudroom, which turned out to be to your fortune as its out of the way location left it with plenty of tissue. Once you looked and felt presentable, you went looking for Bucky.

When you found him, he was on a couch in the den arguing with Sam as they watched the pool game/mating dance between Gamora and Quill. The moment you walked into the room, his eyes were on you and he was offering his lap for a seat with a lecherous grin. You accepted with a laughingly affectionate roll of the eyes and a light shove.

Hours later, after your own loss at beer pong to first Sam, then Bucky, you were murmuring sweet nothings in Bucky's ear as he helped you into a piggyback ride to carry you home. His immoderate chuckling in response was only made worse by the sharp look Gamora was giving him as he tried to look innocent. He didn't know if she could hear you, but he wouldn't be surprised.

By the time he was carrying you up the stairs to your apartment, you had spent the entire walk home telling him about how pretty and sexy and sweet you thought he was. Bucky was feeling mighty fine about his mission to show you how he'd changed. As Gamora had made sure he had your key to get in, he didn't even need to ask for your help.

This was undoubtedly for the best as you had made it to sleepy, too honest drunk. If you were in any fit state to be concerned, you'd have been terrified to be alone with Bucky while this particular brand of intoxication was guiding your behavior. As it was, you'd spent the time you weren't babbling sweetly at Bucky nuzzling into the back of his neck and making happy noises. He was on cloud nine.

He carried you back into your bedroom, an inner sanctum he hadn't been welcome in, in any capacity, for years. Crossing the threshold felt like destiny, but by the time he had helped you clamber down, taken off your shoes, and helped you into your bed, his heart was mush. He couldn't help it; you were adorably drunk and affectionate. He sat on the side of your bed, his hand smoothing over your forehead, marveling at the fact that he even found the crescents of your lashes beautiful as they rested against your cheeks.

"Good night, babygirl," he murmured, his hand gentle as his thumb traced the soft line of your jaw. The longing to climb in the bed with you, wrap you close and fall asleep with your breath on his skin, was almost painful. He sat for a minute with the flutter of hope in his throat that someday soon you'd allow it.

You turned your face into his palm, too sleepy, too intoxicated to hide the softness that lived inside you for him. Sighing happily, you rubbed your cheek against his hand, reveling in the sweet, tender touch. "Night, Bucky-bug."

Bucky made himself stand up, the temptation you held too great to resist much longer. As he turned to leave, his eye passed over and caught on a fifth of whiskey with his name on it sitting on your desk. The bottle was covered in sharpie, the label altered so that the O and the N in Jameson were blacked out, the word James all that was left. Under that, a skull and crossbones had been drawn, surrounded by doodles and curlicues. Almost certain he didn’t want to know but unable to stop himself, he picked up the almost empty bottle and turned to ask, “Y/N, what is this bottle?”

You pried one eye open just enough to see which bottle he held. As soon as you saw the skull, you relaxed back into the pillows and answered, thoughtlessly honest, “That's my bottle of poison, the last of the bottle that almost killed me.”

Bucky actually felt his knees buckle and he nearly dropped the bottle. In case, he set it down and braced himself on the back of the chair next to the desk. "Almost killed you?"

Your voice was utterly unconcerned as you answered. You were too drunk and too close to sleep to think about either what you were saying or who you were saying it to. Also, the only part of that night that you hadn't dealt with until recently was the damage done to your relationship with Bucky. The rest of it felt like ancient history and had no power to hurt or frighten you anymore. "When I got upset because I saw you banging some girl and I ended up in a drinking game with some asshole trying to get me drunk enough to rape me."

That took his knees out completely. He sat limply, sideways in the chair to face you. "The hospital stay." It was a statement of fact, not a question, but you answered anyway.

"Uh-huh," you replied, nodding your head on the pillow, eyes still closed, "I made it all the way to the hallway here." Your face twisted with humor and you snorted. "If you'd brought Gina back here, you'd have tripped over my ass."

Perhaps it was because your voice held no blame, no vitriol, nothing but the humor of hindsight, but your words seemed to punch even harder than if you'd been bitter or resentful. His stomach aching in remorse and regret, Bucky braced his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, babygirl." The words were nothing, nowhere near enough. Bucky didn't know how he could ever make it up to you.

The pain in his gut only increased when you scoffed good-naturedly and moved your hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's okay." You said it cheerfully, with a sweet, happy smile on your face. Your voice softened with affection on the next words. "Steve found me before Brick did." Bucky frowned at the name but couldn’t focus when he was hearing your voice caress Steve's name.

Your face went sly and wicked. "And I have no proof, but if I found out G and Nat didn't have anything to do with that guy going down for some super serious drug charges, I'd be shocked and baffled."

On that, Bucky vaguely remembered an asshole named Brock who'd been arrested and expelled at the beginning of their sophomore year. The only reason he'd noted it at all was because Brock was the last person with whom Steve had started a fight. That wasn't to say Steve hadn't been in fights since then, but it was the last time Bucky had seen him straight start one. It had stuck out because Steve had also refused to explain himself. A lot of things that had made no sense before were falling into place.

"Steve found you." Bucky asked the question in a voice as cold and empty as the grave. He felt like he was dying, like the future he'd allowed to dream for himself was withering in front of him. Your next words had his heart crying out in agony.

"Oh my god," you cried, your face lit like the sun with happiness and devotion as you thought about your best friend, "I love him so much. My Stevie literally saved my life." You turned onto your side and wrapped your arms around your pillow, wishing it was Bucky. You sighed, on your way to sleep and not thinking about anything but the beckoning blackness. "He's always been my knight in shining armor."

Now he knew why Steve had never made a move; you owed him a life debt. Steve was the sort of man who would always consider dynamics. The imbalance that act would have caused would have left you in charge. Steve would never make a move as long as he thought you’d say yes simply because of that imbalance.

A voice in Bucky’s head spoke up to point out that you hadn’t made a move of your own on Steve, regardless of how sweetly you said his name. Bucky knew from experience you were more than capable of making a move, and they were very pretty and effective moves at that. Instead, you’d introduced Steve to someone else, and saved those pretty moves for Bucky.

“Why do you keep the bottle out?” He felt like your answer would be either his salvation or damnation, but he needed it more than he needed his next breath.

His heart was already cracked when your lips twisted in a look of wry and affectionate exasperation he'd seen cross your face a million times, and almost always when looking at him. Your words shattered it. "To remind me that just because something feels good doesn't mean it's good for me."

In the next second, you were asleep, but if you’d opened your eyes instead, you would have seen the first tear fall from his eyes.

Part Twelve here

Taglist:

@learisa @angieptt @mia-at-work @midnightdream83 @wwecrazed2010 @allandoflimbo @emaywhyayy @cheekygeek05 @lovely-geek @diinofayce @suz-123 @hellzzzbelle @olukewarmo @fairchild21 @thefridgeismybestie @fandomsstolemylife00 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @australianhorrorstory @buckybarneshairpullingkink @c-ly-g @wishingforahome @strangersstranger @whiskeyandwashitape @eyesfixedonthesun22 @ingenue-q @joe-mazzello-is-my-dad @irritated-bisexual @fashionworld12 @lbouvet @rishlo @bibliophile1773 @miraclesoflove @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @destiel-is--endgame @irritated-bisexual @peaceinourtime82 @badassbaker @walkingtravesty97

#Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #college au #bulletproof #pantswrites #angst #smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #series

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scriptlgbt · 6 years ago

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My story is about pirates. The MC is a trans guy and the captain is a lesbian who is some sort of big sister/mother figure to him. It's quite violent. I was wondering if it could be problematic? I know it's problematic to show trans woman being overly violent in fiction but what about cis lesbians and straight trans guys? Also, do you know about real any queer pirates i could read about? And what did pirates think about homosexuality/transness?) How was it being queer in the pirate world?

A conversation that I had, that is relevant:

ME: [PARTNER], do you know anything about queer pirates?

PARTNER: I know that there were many, and they’d sometimes be like -

ME: Sea husbands kind of thing?

PARTNER: Yeah, and one would inherit from the other’s booty, and when it was divided up, they’d share their share of the booty.

ME: [mischievous grinning face]

PARTNER: [nodding] And they might share each other’s booty.

Disclaimer: This whole thing is going to largely focus on what is known as the Golden Age Of Piracy. I’m also not a historian, I just hardcore, love pirates with my heart and soul. This is going to be a long post.

So, this is super generalized, but pirates, and even sea-faring folks in general (see: - or sea, hahahahaha - the LGBT+ history of Brighton in the UK), have tended to have a much higher rate of LGBT+ folks and minoritized people in general, throughout history. As far as most research I’ve done goes. Being in a travelling situation and having the anonymity of being able to move around with chosen family generally has great appeal to folks whose existences are filled with oppression and a sense of not belongingness. This has also applied for racialized people, women in general, impoverished folks in general, a lot of different people who wanted to reclaim a place in the world that ostracized them.

Another fun fact, the use of the term “Friend of Dorothy” as a euphemism for gay folks was investigated by the US Navy. They misunderstood it as meaning that there actually was a woman named Dorothy who could be routed down and coerced into outing her “friends” to the military. Cruise ships and others have also used this phrase to covertly advertise that there were meetings for these folks. (Source: Wikipedia | “Friend of Dorothy”)

But to get to the pirates, specifically.

Most pirate ships largely had their own code that everyone on their ship had to agree to. Some had things like, “you’ll be marooned with one knife, and no food if you are caught not reporting loot to be divvied up by the crew fairly” and things like that. But generally, whoever ran the ship, the Captain, would get to pick the rules. And with the partial-democracy that comes with the idea of mutiny, and the more notable reliance on the labour of it all, in general, things were able to be slightly more consensus-based than the on-land governments.

There are numerous women who became pirates to take ownership of their lives in ways that weren’t permitted on-land. Anne Bonny and Mary Read are historical figures that might be worth looking into. The two of them shared lovers, sailed together, had intense care for one and other and with their dressing up in masculine-coded attire and the like, there’s a lot to go off of in assuming they may have been romantically involved with each other. If not, at least they had some iteration of what a lot of contemporary folks might find comparable to a QPR.

The concept of “sea husbands” was also called matelotage (or bunkmate) depending on your crew. It was kind of the buddy system, but gayer. With little need to consistently explain it to outsiders, folks at sea were freer to explore the different ways a relationship with another person can be, without so much worrying about how it looks to others at a passing glance. And as pirates, there’s less concern that you’ll get shit from the law for gay stuff Of All Things.

Buccaneer Alexander Exquemelin wrote: ‘It is the general and solemn custom amongst them all to seek out… a comrade or companion, whom we may call partner… with whom they join the whole stock of what they possess.’ (Source)

It was just normal. They also had a version of health insurance where someone was compensated if they ended up disabled from battle. The compensation of death of your partner also works into this.

As for transness, these kinds of things have had fickle definitions and historically, it’s hard to be able to pinpoint specific people as fitting cleanly into contemporary cultural definitions of transness, because frankly, the past had different culture to now. When it comes to writing canonically trans characters in contexts where the language might have been different, it’s important to focus on making sure that a trans reader can identify the personal connection with that character’s experiences and feelings, just as much as it is to use language to name folks as trans.

Representation can go deeper than surface terminology and the like, and in cases where the terminology doesn’t necessarily match, it has to. Language like, “I never really felt like a [assigned gender] - I see myself more like [desciption of actual gender identity or name for it].” - is as good as just saying the character is trans in my opinion.

Depending on where the character is from, they also may have just outright had a word in their language for their identity.

Gender presentation was significantly freer with pirates than it was for folks on land. Things like earrings, frilled sleeves, varied hair length and similar, were not uncommon, although the gendered coding associated with these aspects of appearance had different implications than they do now. Gold earrings on seafarers were there to fund a proper burial if someone’s body washed ashore. Gendered clothing was also coded in more binary ways on land. Folks who wanted to be coded as men could do so by wearing pants and folks who wanted to be coded as women could do so with skirts and dresses. (Tangential but fun fact yet again: dressing in those big poofy skirts usually included massive pockets. They were generally not physically attached to the skirts, but if you wore it all properly you would easily be able to reach into them.)

Pirates and other seafarers also had clothing referred to as ‘slops’ for cleaning (if they were of the rank that cleaned anyway) which were pretty wide-legged pants that could almost pass for a skirt.

Material that pirates used for clothing was largely what they stole, but it was cut and sewn into the same shapes a lot of other seafarers wore. At the time, it was largely illegal (under English rules anyway) for people who weren’t the bourgeoisie to wear anything made with nice fabric. Rich people saw this as deceitful, and these laws enabled richer people to not mingle on an equal level with those of a lower socioeconomic status.

As pirates, if you’re already shunning the law, may as well wear full calico suits. (Like Calico Jack Rackham.)

There’s more info on pirate and privateer clothing here. (The link is to a free book in HTML format, complete with illustrations and talk of materials, and how the clothes worn at sea varied from clothes they wore when they came into shore and towns.)

I could write a book on this and still not have covered enough. But the gist is that pirates were a big counterculture of outsiders living their lives. LGBT+ people and racialized people got thrown into the mix (and jumped right in) and experienced much more liberated lives than they might otherwise. That isn’t to say they were flawlessly inclusive - there still definitely were a lot of things people thought of in congruence with colonial beliefs. There was racism and homophobia - but it looked a lot different, and was a lot lighter than you’d think. And there were some ships which banned women, but mainly I think that was because they typically didn’t have the background to hold their ground on the ships, and were considered more of a plus one to certain crew members (who brought them - the rules were specifically about bringing them onto the ship rather than them being there of their own accord) than part of the crew. Sometimes women were part of the crew.

Notably, Anne Bonny and Mary Read were in a polyamorous triad with Calico Jack Rackham. (I think a cis + het historian might argue about this but that would seem like denial to me tbh. There is much, MUCH more evidence pointing in this direction than against it, and it would be extraordinarily hard to argue otherwise.) I would definitely do some research on them!

I also recommend this book (link is the free text on WikiSource), A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the most notorious Pyrates. It is perhaps the most famous contemporary record of the lives of a number of pirates from the time, including Anne Bonny and Mary Read.

As for the sensitivity aspect of this ask, I’d say that what you are describing is completely fine. As long as the violence isn’t used to dehumanize or completely demonize, I would even say that I don’t have any warnings for you about it, or precautions to advise on.

Thank you for this opportunity to infodump about LGBT+ pirates. I hope this is not overwhelming, but I’m also happy to parse out segments of this better upon request. (Our ask will be open eventually, I promise.)

- mod nat

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peppersandcats · 5 years ago

Text

Flash stuff, comics and TV

So, I am finally up-to-date on The Flash in both comics and TV format, and I have some thoughts. The comics ones are mostly in the “oh come on are we expected to buy this, clearly you are aiming for that” vein, and the TV show ones are very mild and possible super-obvious, but since both deal with what both what is happening and what I think is going to happen, both might be spoilers so I’m putting them under a cut.

To be clear: please do not tell me anything about these assumptions that does not come from existing text. So for example:

“but in issue 76 we saw X” or “in episode 6 of this season Y happened, so we might get Z fallout” is totally fine. Yay analysis! Would love to hear from you!

“in the comics X happens, so that might mean Y for the TV show” is also cool.

“the comics writer said he’s aiming for X” or “a casting decision has been made so we know Y is still showing up/is not on the show anymore after this point” is really not fine please do not tell me that. I do not want to hear it. Thank you.

Also: discusses possible upcoming character death. I know some people would rather not see that, so mentioning it now.

With that in mind, here are my “I am okay with being wrong about this, but I bet this’ll happen” thoughts:

Comics

Oh, comics. Len has apparently turned into a vicious blowhard, Lisa is picking a fight with him, evil King Cold rules over Central, all is lost, no-one is paying me enough to pick up extra titles from DC to find out what all space and time being broken means, dour, dour, grim.

With that in mind, I have a possibly-more-cheerful read on current Snart events than the one initially presented. I’m going to keep in mind Len’s mention of the Rogues going with Lisa’s plan (issue 78 “Without my sister, the whole plan is on hold.”; issue 79 “This isn’t Lex’s plan. It’s not even my plan. It’s your plan.”), and assume that that was true.

This means that I think (hope) that what they’re going for is a long con. That the Snarts are running with a plan where Len plays bad guy to Central City, Lisa tries to convince Barry to use mega-uncontrollable Speed Force power against Luthor by pitching it as "save my brother he's gone bad", and the end goal is that the world-breaking nonsense and Luthor both get taken down while the Rogues get to keep all the shiny new tech in a world that isn’t weirdly broken by evil.

The big thing that kept throwing me about the narrative presented to Barry is why is Len keeping Barry alive?

Because, look. Right now everyone thinks the Flash is dead (seriously, those guards in the throne room were absolutely thinking “jeez, boss, we’ve heard how the Flash died in your arms three times already this week”), and yeah, that’s good to keep Central hopeless. And Len is coming across as mean as hell. But then why hasn’t he really killed Barry? He’s not angling for the “I will build my reputation with a grand execution!”, because then he wouldn’t be talking up how he’d already killed the Flash. He might be keeping Barry alive just to torment him, but then there’d be no benefit to lying about how he’d killed him. Dude’s stuck in Ice Heights, not even the Trickster* can make a dent in that, it’s not like someone is going to mount a successful rescue.

*Please insert usual where-the-hell-does-he-get-those-wonderful-toys rant here, I’m sure you’ve heard it from me by now.

And if Len was building part of his power on the “I will crush Central City’s spirit by letting them know I have taken down the Flash!” foundation, then Lisa’s “oh no, we can’t let people know you’re alive” seems a bit odd.

So if I take a step back, what I see isn’t “Lisa has a heart of gold and is begging for the Flash’s help.” It’s not even “Lisa is vamping Barry and feeding him a sob story about how her brother has gone bad.”

What I see is “the Snarts have a secret plan that involves no-one knowing that the Flash is still alive, so it doesn’t get back to Lex Luthor. Right now the genius supervillain has a massive blind spot about the existence of a terrifying Speed Force bomb, and Lisa is collecting pieces of Mirror Master’s tech. Those are totally the kind of things you could combine to break Luthor’s secret reality-busting stronghold, which would enable you to get rid of him but still keep your super-cool empowering tech.”

And if Len and Lisa are in cahoots on this, the bombast makes a lot more sense. “My sister has been in hiding ever since I took over Central City... and she reveals herself by stealing from me?" is a performance for the benefit of the two-high level mooks who were following Len and could probably hear him through the open doorway. Giant ice-wolves aren’t anything to do with Lisa being scared of dogs when she was a kid (which didn’t really come across in her reaction to them anyway), they’re just really cool and the speech is Len hamming it up for whoever in his citadel is spying for Luthor.

(I mean. It’s Luthor. You’re working with Lex Luthor, you gotta assume.)

So, yeah. I’m still hoping we’ve got the Snarts running a very sensible long con, which combines the best aspects of “we are crooks who want cool stuff” and “we’re not evil, evil is dumb.” Fingers crossed.

Okay, minor stuff, but I think I’ve finally decoded the symbols on the Monitor’s door!

I was assuming, pretty much, that these referenced the Justice League. The Flash in particular has been throwing in asides to the Justice League since its inception (everyone’s seen the mural at CCPD headquarters, right?), the last crossover involved a building that has people who don’t watch the show assuring me that it’s meant to evoke the Hall of Justice, one of the trailers mentioned seven heroes, here we have seven symbols, etc.

Left to right, I think these represent

Black Lightning - it’s not a logo, but the shape evokes the lightning streaks on the torso of his costume. This one was one I kept getting stuck on - I kept thinking “Trident! ...but it makes no sense for them to bring in Aquaman.” Then I went to catch up on Black Lightning a little and it clicked.

Canary - I honestly was thinking White Canary because I really want to see LOT involved, but Sara doesn’t wear a face mask. Therefore, probably need to go with Black Canary (who is a founding member in at least one version of continuity, lord knows which one, I have trouble keeping track)

Flash - that is, to me, obviously his cowl. Little bit coming down in the middle, little chin covering pointing up, wing-y bits on the ears, we’re good.

Martian Manhunter - this one I’m the least sure of, but given the options available, I think it has to be him. He’s totally a Justice League guy, and the hex with straps pointing up and down to the sides, echoes his costume torso.

Supergirl - again, I was staring at this for a while, completely lost, but now it looks to me like a really stylized ‘S’. If it was narrower on the bottom than on the top, it would look a lot like the family logo.

Batwoman - this is both a scarier-looking mask than the second image, and can be read as a figure spreading their wings to either side. (Huh, I suppose it might be Hawkgirl? But I’m betting on Batwoman. If I’m wrong, that’s okay! I have been wrong before)

Arrow. I mean, really, just Arrow. It’s an arrow-head. Arrow.

And I mean, I don’t necessarily think everyone’s going to survive through this. Oliver Queen in particular I think is going to die. Whether that means Roy or Mia steps up to try and become the Arrow, or whether they leave a seat empty at the table to honour Ollie’s sacrifice, I don’t know. But: Arrow in the JLA of the CW.

But.

Arrow is TV, but in a lot of ways it’s still comics. You know how it happens when people die in comics.

I think we might get to see Ollie as the Spectre.

It fits with the well-meaning darkness and the grim drive. It fits with the judgement of "you have failed this city". It fits with the green hood. The recent “hey, vigilantes working with the police” feel like it gives Ollie a sort of cop-if-you-look-at-him-sideways aura that makes him line up better with Jim Corrigan and Crispus Allen--hell, even Hal Jordan functionally comes across as a space-cop. Even Corrigan’s death thematically echoes Ollie’s first (presumed) death by drowning on the Queen’s Gambit.

I would like that. I have long loved the Spectre, and I would not be where I am as a DC TV fan--hell, as a DC fan--if Arrow hadn’t clicked with me.

I would like it if Oliver Queen, that grumpy control-freak secret-keeping self-righteous ass, could still be there on some level. He means a lot to me.

#commentary #the flash spoilers #dc tv #dc comics #crisis on infinite earths #my commentary #theories #leonard snart #lisa snart #the flash iss. 83 #the monitor #justice league #justice league dc tv #oliver queen #the spectre #arrow #here for a positive fandom experience

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vroenis · 5 years ago

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Mood Dependence

The first tag I drop on the entry is of-course Kentucky Route Zero.

I forget whether I’ve talked about this before so here we are talking about it again some more. While I was playing KRZ and occasionally posting about it on social media, among others, two particular friends responded to me about it and we engaged, having some good discussions on and off. I suggested that playing the game might be highly mood dependent, but that for me engaging in most art is mood dependent, the only thing that varies is to what degree. If I was still more of a wanker, I might suggest that the more artsy-fartsy a product is, the more mood dependent it is but that’s not the case. I very much have to be in the right frame of mind to engage with Marvel or Bravest Warriors as much as Gaspar Noé, it really does depend on the individual and what mood they’re most frequently in or find themselves in at the time.

I find it affects more than the consumption of and engagement with art, tho. I don’t know if it’s a bipolar thing or a human thing and I say that a lot; it affects my ability to write, create, engage with people - enact actions in the world. The only thing I have to brute-force my way thru is of-course my employment which raises particularly interesting capitalistic questions of societal structure. I’m not entirely here to smash the establishment tho - there are times where discipline is useful; on a base level, discipline and the ability to overcome how we feel assists us with survival and sure it’s disgusting to apply that to the nth degree entirely in the ultimate capitalist sense, but again on a base level, being able to hold down a job in an of itself isn’t necessarily evil. Before we go Burning Down The Corporations, I need to make careful distinctions between my mental states and my physical states, as a first example. Minds and bodies are complex systems and understanding them is my responsibility.

Nevertheless I can never stray too far from my iconoclastic nature and Art-capital-A is one of my most primary motivators. There is definitely plenty wrong in the world at large we have created over generations and the societal structures therein regarding how we understand people and psychology and I’m fairly certain we will never address it to our ultimate destruction, that is fairly observable, mundane, and an immense tragedy for literally billions of people who will luck out in the birth lottery or have already done so. Art is the only thing that from a pragmatic perspective is both meaningless and unnecessary and so becomes the most essential and important thing for humanity. We must inject the most meaning and emotion into it possible. It becomes charged with the most powerful intangible things we have; our emotions. This is why bad art must be celebrated and documented. Anger, frustration, humour is just as valuable as everything we think is noble.

It’s also why the struggle to create is very real and perhaps one of the greatest challenges. It’s probably why I pushed myself to write today. Usually I’m cautious about pushing myself to produce, and I want to again be very careful with the language I use being so capitalist, even if only by stating it. It’s hazardous discussing everything in terms of product - I know I mentioned in a previous entry and Capitalism tries to convince you that everything you create is a product and it has no value unless someone is buying it, so a reminder to myself and to you that it’s not what’s happening here. I could frame it as exercise, and I’m now thinking (typing? lol) aloud in that an exercise is effectively an investment - a preparation for ability, capability for the future and again it all sounds quite capitalist, doesn’t it? Do we always do things only with the hope of some kind of profit? A return on investment? Do we evaluate everything only if and when there is a return, at the valuation point, like a board game about speculative stocks? If the board game never concludes because of an unforeseen interruption, do we not name a winner and so the game and the stocks - the product and our labour - never had any value?

Do I write this to answer these questions, or only to ask them, and which has value?

All the philosophy majors will have a lot of angles on what has value or whether there’s any point to value at all as a frame which is great. Value as a phenomena is a whole Thing - we can discuss whether or not I have any intent to create or suggest Value capital V (that’s getting annoying, I know, so that will be the last time) but that will be fairly pointless.

(I made that; you can steal it).

Over the last few entries, I’ve not directly talked about the one monumental current event that’s dominated the attention of world at large. If you note the dates on these entries and you’re visiting from the future, you may have to look up what was happening around now if I haven’t mentioned it explicitly anywhere as I likely won’t. There was one vague reference to it in the Kaossilator post which is as close as I care to get. There are so many other things happening in our lives (J and mine) that I’d say were interruptions, but they’re not really - they’re just life, but they’re the daily challenges that make creating difficult.

It means coming here and writing weekly or bi-weekly, as is my intention, is a challenge. It means turning on all my gear and working on music is a huge challenge. It means watching films and sometimes even YouTube is a challenge. A lot of it it energy dependent, heaps of it is naturally time dependent, but for me a significant portion is mood dependent and my understanding of that is it’s more dimensional than just not feeling like it.

Over dinner a while ago, our family were discussing films released in 2019 and which was my favourite and honestly I think I got around to seeing one. I think the next most recent film I saw in the last 12 months was Hereditary which I enjoyed most, so if I see a film within 24 months of its release these days, I’m doing well. Mostly this is due to time and opportunity, but it’s mostly due to mood; I just don’t want to watch most films, even ones I’m interested in seeing and want to watch.

Our hosts also asked us what we thought of the place as they’d just recently moved in and were still in the process of moving things around and my perspective was and is that I like subtle - and often not so subtle suggestions of separations of space for application. When I read, I read in specific places. When I create music, I only do it in the studio, tho there are exceptions when I take one or two smaller pieces of gear out of the room as that’s a ton of fun for a refreshing change. When I play games, it’s on the consoles down at the television, the same goes for when I watch films or shows - we don’t have more than one room with TVs in them, and while J can and does watch shows on her iPad in bed, it’s not something I can do. For me, I want a dedicated space in which I focus on film to engage with it.

This applies to the times when I create and engage with art, too, and I’ve mentioned before that there are even times when I do and don’t listen to certain albums or pieces of music. In this post-KRZ life I’m in, (need to change the name of this journal to Art Worth Dying For: or Life Post-Kentucky Route Zero), I’m trying to write these longer posts every Friday night after work, but it’s turning out to be either Saturday during the day, Saturday evening or on the Sunday. During the week I try to add something shorter, but I do want to maintain some semblance of regular discipline because writing is good for me, in particular in lieu of ceasing other online activities. I’ve found that engagement in general is low on other platforms, and while it does occur rarely and at a moderate level, it isn’t regular enough for my liking. Like many, I’ve taken a somewhat passive role on Instagram where the Stories are utilised to post temporary activity and engagement is higher, and on Facebook I respond to posts in the Akai Force group where necessary but only when relevant which isn’t often.

I’d rather come here and write endlessly and be orderly, in short and long-format text, and as expressed in my Instagram stories; even post images in a more static format that invites slower digestion and contemplation with a view to better interpolation of text and context of that text in relation to the images.

It doesn’t matter that I don’t have an audience here, what matters is that I like the form and format and that it feels right for my expression. It allows me to inject value into it, so I guess it’s good product then; even if no-one is buying. Good ol’ capitalism. I don’t know if writing discipline will lead to music discipline, that’s certainly not one of the aspirations I maintain - if it’s a side-effect, it’s welcome. Nevertheless, there’s a charm in writing publicly and being able to come back, re-read my thoughts and reflect on what comes out when I plug directly into what’s going on and let some of the previous week spill out, delineated in text and a few images - these tiny snapshots of what life is like for me. I feel like it’s valuable, insightful even if just for me, for what my life is becoming, the Art that is shaping it along with the events I’m experiencing - am subject to. That’s ominous, as it should be. It should be for us all. We are subject to Art.

#Kentucky Route Zero #Video Games #chrono #2020 #Mood Dependence #Capitalism #Perception of Value #Creating #Creativity #Steal This Art #Social Media #Writing About Writing #Consuming Art

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crystalninjaphoenix · 6 years ago

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The Magnificent Guide to Magic

Runes and...something else

Hello, it’s JJ again. I promised you a follow-up on the situation, so that is what I am delivering. We did manage to find Marvin, luckily a friend of ours saw him and alerted us. He texted us! It’s so very helpful! However, he is not quite...himself right now. We accidentally invited someonething in. It’s...exactly what I feared. Luckily, we have the situation contained. Namely, we locked Marvin in an empty room again. He’s throwing a tantrum in there.

I’ve been trying to find a way to fix this for four hours. Henrik and Chase are making sure nothing happens in the meantime. I’ve pulled out all the magic books, all the magick books, and all the information we have, yet it still doesn’t seem to be enough. I haven’t a clue how Marvin managed to push him out last time, the only explanation I can think of is that his attention was divided between the dreamscape, Antithesis, and m Apologies, my mind was wandering. I would thank you to ignore that sentence. I am...tired.

The point is, this may be a different sort of situation, but I have a hunch that, just like the last time, we may need magic to reverse this, something that only Marvin has out of all of us. But until I have run out of options, I will keep looking for a solution. And that brings me to the point. I have been trying to find a solution, but it may be that I need to make a solution. Using runes.

Runes are a complex study. There are some debates that they aren’t truly magick or magic, but something else on their own that witches and magicians can use as a tool. They certainly follow their own set of laws. The best way I can describe runic use is that you are writing something into being. Not exactly true. You cannot write a sentence about events in runes and expect those events to come true. That is not a normal power. I once heard tale of an anomaly in America that could write the future. Or was it speak the future? Never you mind, it’s not important right now. The point is that, using runes, you can create objects, spells, and forces out of nothing.

The most common use of runes is magickal talismans, wherein you write or carve them in a specific formation on an item and that can create a force that extends a certain way past the talisman. Usually protection, though there are ones that can bring bad luck or ill intent upon anyone in a certain radius. In addition, if you put runes on a piece of jewelry or sew them into clothing, they will give the same effect but only to the person wearing said items. These are called amulets. Placing runes on magical tools can enhance their abilities with a certain type of spell or magical purpose, and they are what powers most magickal rituals.

There are thirteen runic alphabets, seven of which have a spoken language paired with them. Each alphabet has its strengths and weaknesses. For example, one might have characters that work best for protection but no characters for elemental spells, while another has characters that are tuned to elements but rubbish for scrying, and so on. Most magicians know one or two, while most witches know three or four. I, personally, know eight, though that may be the one virtue to having more time to learn them.

You cannot cross runic alphabets. If you try, the spell you are attempting will backfire, at best fizzing out and at worst quite literally blowing up in your face. The pattern you write the runes in is also crucial. I would draw you examples, but frankly I am too tired for that, and also I wish to keep this short. Suffice to say there are five basic rules for rune patterns:

Circles are for protection

Lines are for attack

Geometric shapes, like squares or triangles, lend power to whatever you are trying to create (more sides mean more power)

Shapes overlapping can cause serious problems if done wrong (see earlier reference to runes blowing up in your face) but if done right can make it very difficult to undo the runes’ effects

The straighter and more even you write the runes and the shapes they’re in, the more powerful the effect will be

The most important thing to remember when writing runes is intent. It’s true, each rune has something it represents, like “eye” or “fire,” and when combined with each other they will have different effects, but unless you intend them to work they will not. This is why you must learn at least what runes mean before attempting to write them. Otherwise you will pick a wrong symbol, intending it to do something that it cannot do, and your spell or talisman or other effect will fail. Not backfire, but simply not work. This is also why you can find runic alphabets and known runic patterns written in spellbooks, but they do not work. The writer of the book did not intend it to work, merely to instruct, and so it will not.

—

I...must be honest. I hoped writing would somehow lend me a solution, or make me come to a sudden realization, but it has not. I still do not know what to do. I could try to go into more details of runes and hope something comes to me, but I doubt it will. If only we knew more about this.

It’s obvious that Marvin is not like this because of a host takeover. He currently already has a host, though I suppose there’s the chance he was looking for a new one. But in addition, a takeover takes a longer time, at least a year, with the most activity in the month before he makes the attempt. And there was no attempt at all, even. Marvin has not been injured in any way. Neither is this a case of forceful or coerced puppeteering. If that was true, then the actions would be different. Spastic movement, no speaking (if that is even an option in the first place), laughter, and more importantly seeing what is happening inside through the eyes. It is not a voice situation either, it is clearly Marvin speaking and moving and not him.

My closest guess is that it’s something similar to a thrall. What with the blank eyes, dull voice, unquestioning listening to the commander. But that takes at least a week of preparation, it’s not possible with just under an hou

Sorry about that sudden cutting off, Chase just wanted to see how I was getting along and update me on the situation. He...he says that Marvin seems afraid now. And horrible as that is, that...may have given me an idea.

Perhaps this doesn’t follow the rules. He never does, not even if the rules are his own. But if there is one thing about him that remains constant, it is pain and fear. If Marvin was having one of those, I believe the term is “panic attack”s, then maybe, with how close he is, that was enough? Enough to step in? But it couldn’t have been very deep. What works fast? Think, Jameson, think, think, think

I am a fool. I forgot about overwhelming. Wherein something or someone overwhelms a subject with one single emotion, and uses that to get the subject to do as told. Usually, that is happiness or contentment, but of course he would use fear. On the surface level, overwhelmed subjects act similarly to a thrall, except thralls are truly empty and the overwhelmed feel nothing except one emotion.

The way to fix this is to help the subject feel something beside this. That may be difficult if he is trying to attack whoever is in sight.

But...I have a plan.

Wish me luck.

#FINALLY HAD TIME TO WRITE THIS FRICK #hmm...wonder how jj knows so much about forms of mind control...#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #magnificent guide to magic #brigid writes fanfiction

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didim-dol · 6 years ago

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Explanation of Shamanic Rituals in 손: The Guest

This is not the most organized of thought pieces, so I do apologize for that. I’m not being paid, so I honestly don’t care enough.

Disclaimer: I am not a native Korean speaker, nor do I have any academic training, except access to academic texts, and a significant interest in the subject. Also, I’m married to a native Korean speaker, so trust me when I say, I badgered him all the time while we watched the show, asking questions that allowed me to better understand what I needed to look for in research. I can read Korean and type it, so I was able to find a lot with information he provided me. Google Translate sucks balls, but it’s often good enough, and/or points in the right direction. If you are a native speaker, and I’m totally wrong, please let me know. I will fix it and credit you!

I know there were lots of vagueness and unanswered questions about the rituals, who Park Il Do was, and what the ever-loving-fuck was going on most of the time, so I want to address them. I don’t speak to the Catholic part of any of it, except to say, in Korea, Catholicism is one of the more tolerant of Christian denominations that proselytized/evangelized there. As you can see, while not the same, they are compatible with one another, like in structured rituals dealing with possession, among other things. If you are Catholic and want to contribute to the post, please do!

First let me point out that in the entire show, the terms “possession” and “exorcism” are used rather loosely, and encompass many different rituals that don’t have obvious English translations. Some were more confusing than others, which I want to clarify.

Episode 8-9: Seo Joon (the little girl)

In Episode 8, when Seo Joon is questioned about what happened to her, she tells Hwa Pyung and YukGwang she was approached by an old lady ghost in old-fashioned clothing, who was frightening at first, but later wasn’t

YukGwang asks about the symptoms she had (digging, aching body), and says she has been “possessed” and she needs an “exorcism.”

The translations are a bit funky here: The English subtitle is “possession” which is true, but not in the way we think of it the west, which is primarily from the Catholic Church. What is actually happening to her is called: 무병 (巫病, mu byeong), or “spirit sickness/ghost sickness,” and she is experiencing 신병 (shin byeong) or “self-loss”, which is what happens to someone destined to be a shaman. They serve their spirit guide, take a new name, and thus “lose” their former identity.

Then he tells her grandmother she needs an “exorcism,” which is not a very good translation. He says she needs 내림굿 (naelim kut) which is the initiation ritual of a new shaman, meaning she needs to accept her role and become a shaman.

But when Seo Joon says the lady is gone, replaced by spirits with knives, they realize that can’t happen. The old lady she saw was the spirit who should have become her spirit guide, and the one she would serve as a shaman, but Park Il Do destroyed her, leaving Seo Joon without a guide, and vulnerable to the evil spirits that come for her instead.

In the end of the character’s arc, he talks about another “exorcism” which is, yet again, a different ritual. This is the 눌림굿 (nullim kut), or the ritual to suppress a potential shaman’s abilities to see spirits. It is the same one that was used on Hwa Pyung when he was a child.

Episode 12: The Blind Shaman

Choi Yoon goes to see the shaman who performed a 굿(kut) on Hwa Pyung as a child. She tells Choi Yoon she remembers the boy from the 세습무 (saeseummu), or “hereditary shaman” family. He asks which kind of ritual she performed on him, and she says nullim kut, but its effects are wearing off. She refers to the 큰귀신 (k’un gwishin), or the “great/powerful spirit,” which they call Park Il Do, that wants him. This weakening of the ritual’s power is why he is able to see the ghost of his father again. It doesn’t explain why his eye hurts or why he can’t touch the cross, though.

Episode 16: The Ritual to capture and contain 손

In the flashback in Episode 16, we see Yukgwang telling Hwa Pyung how to trap Park Il Do in his body. He uses two words the translators didn’t even bother with. I don’t blame them.

The first word is the ritual that Hwa Pyung should use to trap Park Il Do, and is called the 팔문금쇄진 ( 八門金鎖陣; palmungeumswaejin) or “The Eight Gate Lock Formation,” which comes from the Chinese novel, Romance of the Three Kingdoms. It is a fictional military formation, but also a real ritual used in Korean Shamanism. It probably comes from the influence of Buddhism and Taoism from China, which goes back to the 3-4th centuries.

Each gate represents one of the Eight Generals/Gods of the Eight Doors and the Eight Directions (If you have a better translation for these, let me know. I did my best.):

North- 휴문신장 (休門神將) - God of the Gate of Rest

North East- 생문신장 ( 生門神將) - God of the Gate of Life

East- 상문신장 (傷門神將) - God of the Gate of Injury

South East- 두문신장 (枓門神將) - God of the Gate of Fabrication

West- 경문신장 (驚門神將) - God of the Gate of Fear

North West- 개문신장 (開門神將) - God of the Open Gate

South- 경문신장 (景門神將) - God of the Gate of View/Scenery

South West- 사문신장(死門神將) - God of the Gate of Death

The act of doing this ritual is called 팔문진경 (palmunjingyeong).

In the actual ritual, an intricately cut piece of paper in the shape of a cylindrical net is hung from the ceiling where the ritual is taking place. Eight nets are then strung out from the center net to eight more hanging nets with the names of the above deities written on amulets in red ink, pasted to the corresponding net. The image of the ghost or spirit that needs to be captured is then placed in the middle of the net, like so:

Source

Because Hwa Pyung is trying to trap the spirit of Park Il Do in himself, he carves each of the god’s names into his body in, roughly, the proper directions. It’s much more gruesome, but works. His blood is red (the color of the dead) which is a substitute for red ink. The last one, he writes on his arm which is significant because 팔 (pal) means “arm” in Korean, as well as the number “eight” in Sino-Korean numbers.

The characters are Hanja, and correct as far as I can tell. I can imagine it would be quite difficult to carve complex characters into one’s skin, upside down, and they are kind of hard to read.

Side note: I tried to find out how these directional gods corresponded with the 오방신장 (obang shinjang), or the “Gods of the Five Directions” in Korean mythology, but I was unable to find anything. It may be that the difference is in pre/post-Buddhist and Taoist influence. I’m not sure.

손: The Guest

The term 손 (sohn or son) It means “hand” as well as “guest/visitor.” In shamanism is it referred to an “ominous force,” which is why the villagers call the thing from the sea, sohn.

It was unclear from the beginning if sohn and Park Il Do were the same or different, even in Korean, as Korean is very vague. Pronouns aren’t really used, so there is no real reference to who they are talking about except in context or direct questions. This is why Choi Yoon assumed that “he” was Hwa Pyung, not his grandfather, when the shaman said sohn was still in the body he had possessed back then.

So at one point, they were not the same. Park Il Do was possessed by the ominous force known as sohn, then transferred to the driver. Then I’m not sure if he went into Hwa Pyung’s grandfather, or if there were more in-between. I can’t remember.

As the grandfather was from a hereditary shaman family, his body was powerful enough to hold him for the 20 years, along with Park Il Do’s body buried in the backyard. This is like the crow that allowed Park Il Do put in the pickled shrimp, so he always had access to Hwa Pyung, even when he was far away. How he stayed attached to Park Il Do’s body, idk, except because it wasn’t destroyed or cremated. Wrapped up like that, the body didn’t decompose.

Miscellaneous Words

살 (煞 sal) - “invisible arrow,” “evil spirit.” Sal is also a homophone for death in Chinese, and in pure Korean, it means arrow. Therefore one is struck with an arrow of misfortune. More generically, it is evil/bad things that are caused by malevolent spirits.

살푸리 (salpuri)- ritual to remove curses and evil spirits; or remove the arrows of misfortune.

I’ll probably add more to this later on, but if you want to add to it, please do! If you have any corrections for me, you can message me or reply. But don’t be an asshole.

11/23/18 - NEWLY ADDED

구마 (guma) - the Korean term for the Catholic Exorcism.

저주 (chaju)- a curse (what happened to Choi Yoon)

Sources:

Shamans, Housewives, and Other Spirits by Laurel Kendall

Illustrated Guide to Korean Mythology by Choi Won Oh

Other random sites I didn’t save. Sorry.

#the guest #ocn the guest #손: the guest #손 #Korean shamanism #korean mythology #Korean drama #ocn #Rituals #Spells #Ghosts #Spirits

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docfuture · 6 years ago

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Interlude: The Book

[This vignette occurs just after Chapter 45 of The Maker’s Ark. The latest chapter of The Maker’s Ark is here, and links to some of my other work are here. Updates are posted irregularly–theoretically every two weeks, a schedule I still aspire to return to someday.]

Insomnia wasn't something Flicker usually thought about, or even noticed; when she was growing up, it was the default, and she formed her habits accordingly. What was still new to her was considering how it might affect someone else sharing her bed. She'd moved to the next compartment to read in order to avoid disturbing Journeyman. The rumble of the main drive of the Learning Is About To Occur kept her company on the couch as she skimmed a translated Grs'thnk survey article on the effects of non-standard communication modes on social development. Learning had inquired politely if she wished conversation, and she had politely declined. The only other person on the ship who had context for what she wanted to talk about was asleep, and she wasn't going to-- The hatch opened, revealing Journeyman, in the t-shirt and shorts he'd worn to bed--his habits were shaped by the occasional need for an abrupt port. His hat was in the form of a nightcap, which she thought was a nice touch. "Figured," he said. "How bad?" "I'm okay," said Flicker. "Didn't want to wake you just to ramble at you." "Flicker, you can always--" She shook her head. "Listening is an effort right now. And one-sided conversations are rude, especially when you're short of sleep too." Journeyman was a pattern magician, and he had a skilled actor's mastery of gesture and nuance. He adjusted the brim of the cap, which morphed into a beach hat. His t-shirt shifted to a colorful Aloha shirt, a snap of his fingers made an iced drink appear in his hand, and he sat down on the couch beside her. He stretched out one leg to rest a now-sandaled foot on the table, waved expansively with his free hand, and raised an eyebrow at her with a smile, a picture of comfortable relaxation. He could give an eloquent speech with exactly zero words. Flicker blinked and turned off her handcomp. "Okay," she said. "When I came back down from the translation session, I said I'd want to talk later. It's later. There are some old memories that I've wanted to share for a while, but--well, I'll explain." "Go ahead," he said. "Did you ever notice the old lockbox in my bedroom?" "Yeah. Wasn't going to ask. Magicians know better." "There's a keepsake in it. I'd have told you before, but... When I started recovering some of my childhood memories, it connected to some dark stuff, even though the other memories I have of it are good. But it's still my most emotionally important possession." "Keepsakes can be like that." "Yeah." Flicker paused. "When Gumshoe and the Volunteer got me out of that orphanage, it was an effort for me to understand speech. But when I realized the Volunteer was going to take me somewhere else, I wouldn't go with him until I went and got something. He couldn't keep up with me--that's what made it obvious that my power was speed. Also, I destroyed some doors, and was clutching it protectively when I came back, so everyone figured out right away that it was a good idea to let me keep it. And I couldn't talk yet, but I could read, and even write a little." "You said someone tried to teach you," said Journeyman. "Yeah. I'm not sure how old I was... it wasn't the last place I was in, it was the one before it, the one that burned down. So maybe four or five? I don't remember any details. They might have stopped because they thought I was deaf. My hearing was very hit or miss--that was before I figured out how to control my internal speed to make it reliable. Every time I sped up to think, I'd stop hearing, and that chopped up sounds into bits too brief to reassemble. "Or they might have stopped because I didn't get that pictures and words could go together. Or maybe they were told to stop. I don't know. Anyway, whoever tried didn't get far. That's not how I learned to read. But it was enough to plant the idea that patterns on paper could mean something important. I didn't have anything to connect them to, though. Then, quite a while later, I found something." Flicker smiled. "There wasn't much written or printed material that I could get at. A few old magazines and some scraps of newspaper. They didn't really help. The only thing I learned from them was that turning pages was tricky, and I needed to be careful if I didn't want to destroy them. And then one day--I don't remember how, there are still a lot of gaps--I found myself outside. I could move around if I really wanted. I just didn't, mostly. Nowhere to go, I wasn't very coordinated yet, and I was discouraged from trying for... well, pretty good reasons if you were a nearby human. "It was sunny out, and there was another building nearby, with a big open door, so I went in. I didn't recognize most of what I saw, but I remember the smell. It was distinctive--grease, oil, metal, and dust. Old workshop or small machine shop, one that hadn't been used much in a while. I poked around a bit. I remember a big workbench with scattered tools and a vice clamped to one end, a chain hoist, and a metal cabinet with shelves. And on one of the shelves was a book." Flicker closed her eyes, remembering. "I was very lucky. When I opened it, and carefully turned a few pages, I knew I had found something important, something amazing. It was full of printing, writing, that I didn't understand yet, but I sensed that I could learn. Understanding was possible. I picked it up, went back outside where the light was better, and started. I don't remember anything of my surroundings after that. At some point they found me and herded me back inside, but I didn't mind, I took the book with me. I don't think they were ever stupid enough to try to take it away. I know I was easier to deal with when I had my book, so they didn't have reason." "I taught myself to read using that book. And once I could puzzle some of it out, I realized just how wonderful it was." She opened her eyes again. "It was the best book in the world. What I read... fit, with a part of my mind I hadn't even realized I had. It was precious. I kept it wrapped up when I wasn't reading it, and slept with it under my pillow. The Trickster never tried to take it away, though I was afraid he might. I don't think he understood it." "The only time anything bad happened, was when I woke up one night and there were these bugs. There were always bugs around, and I usually ignored them. But these bugs were trying to eat my book. I got really scared and mad. I killed the bugs, then looked where they were coming from and pulled it open and there were more, so I killed them too, and..." Flicker looked down. "I wasn't careful. I got rid of the bugs. But I got rid of the building too. That was the fire." "Ah," said Journeyman. "Was-- wait, never mind, stupid question. Go on." "What? Go ahead, now I'm curious." "Gah. Okay. That mission back when we were first working together. I said 'You don't burn down your house to kill the bugs.' You got upset but couldn't explain why." "Yeah," said Flicker. "I didn't have the memory back yet, but I still had some reactions from around it. And there are records of people dying in that fire. That's the worst part. Doc thought--I thought--the fire was part of a cover-up, that the people were already dead. But they'd have to plan that, and they didn't. I caused it." "Not... necessarily." Flicker frowned. "What do you mean? Too much damage, too much heat transfer--boom, fire. That was me." "Yeah, but the Trickster was your real jailer. Getting other people to take the fall for things he planned was his specialty. If he wanted, he could send in the bugs with a pretty good idea of what would happen. And even if he didn't, the scuzzy humans running the place wouldn't need any prodding to use a fire of unknown origin to explain otherwise suspicious deaths. Their other options would be worse--fires attract attention." Flicker thought for a bit, and blinked a few times. "Mike, you're really good at making me feel better. And I love you for it. But you can't know that." "No. But you can't know it's all your fault either. Accepting responsibility is one thing, but you don't have to hoard it like a miser." "Okay. That's... reasonable. Sorry." Flicker wiped her eyes. "You said there were good memories, too?" "Oh yeah," said Flicker. "My book kept me occupied, and grounded. I read and reread it for years." "I did that with a couple of spellbooks for a while." said Journeyman, smiling. "They were reference works, but I used them as comfort reading." "The best kind. What I figured out last night was what made it click so well. That came back when I was tearing through that new Floater data dump looking for translation cues." "Was that why you were so happy when you slowed back down? I thought it was from the progress you made." "That, too. I kept jumping ahead of where Learning, DASI, and Three were consolidating. Because the Floaters included a bunch of older scientific reference texts as jumping off points, and I already had a Rosetta Stone for that sort of thing memorized. I know how to use formats and table descriptions and a whole bunch of other clues to learn an alien language, because I did it before. That's how I learned English--using all the data and tables from my book and comparing with the formats and some leftover data from Skybreaker's memory. She had non-volatile memory specifically for local physical constants and stuff, because she was created for inter-universal travel, so that's where I stored the data from the book. That's why I never lose it from my high speed memory when I sleep. And what made it fit, what made me sure it was important. It was like... a guide to where I was. Common math and purpose guided me when I read my book. I just had to build up meanings for the symbols and puzzle out the axioms." Flicker smiled again. "And it was the base I used to come back to myself, after Donner's song of unbinding. My book still helps me, even though I've updated a lot of the data. So can you see why I'm sentimental about it?" Journeyman stared into the distance for a bit before speaking, hesitantly. "So. I can guess what kind of book it was. Are you comfortable sharing the title?" Flicker felt herself blush. "Oh! Yeah. It's the CRC Handbook of Chemistry and Physics, the 44th edition for 1962 and 1963. 3,604 pages. I read every printed page, all the tiny writing, all the numbers and tables, all the graphs and charts and equations and footnotes. It gave me a taste of how much knowledge there was out there, organized and beautiful, even if I didn't understand what it was all about yet. And the first time I visited Doc's lab, and he gave me a high speed interface to his Database--I realized it was kind of like a living version of my book, bigger and faster and more up to date. That's when I knew I was home. That Earth was home." Journeyman smiled. "That's what I would call a pretty good book." "My book. Best book. I'll show it to you when we get back to Earth." Flicker yawned. "Sorry to blather for so long. But I think I'll be able to sleep now." "Not blather. We share when we can." Journeyman stood and stretched, and they moved back to the bedroom. This time, sleep came easy.

#Maker's Ark #FallofDocFuture #FallMisc

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reactingtosomething · 6 years ago

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If They Liked This, They May Also Like...

Holiday Shopping with Reacting to Something

stock photo shamelessly lifted from

We know we haven’t generated original content in a very long time, but we wanted to get into the holidays in a way that was more or less on brand. So in the spirit of a Netflix recommendation algorithm, here are some suggestions for what to buy friends and family who liked some of the movies we saw in 2018 (including a couple that premiered in late 2017).

It’s probably obvious, but just to be super clear, the format below is --

If they liked this: They may also like this

Miri’s Gift Guide

The Shape of Water: I shouldn’t say a day pass to an aquarium because it’s a terrible, easy joke BUT I AM WHO I AM.

If you’re not a garbage person, maybe consider the rest of Del Toro’s creature filmography, anything related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or a collection of fairy tales by the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen. Dark and gritty originals, not the tidied up versions.

Call Me By Your Name: NO, I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING TO DO WITH PEACHES BECAUSE EVEN I HAVE LIMITS. APPARENTLY. The book is a lovely, lyrical, tragic read (or listen, if you go with the Armie Hammer audiobook as I did), and I would also recommend giving a gift of solitary artistic pleasure in whatever way speaks to your intended recipient—a CD, a ticket to an art exhibit, a coffee table book of a painter you think they will love. Something beautiful that requires a little bit of space to enjoy privately.

Black Panther: The new Shuri comic! (I am a hypocrite because I haven’t read it yet but it looks so awesome!) Also, there are some choice funko pops for Black Panther, which are a nice, reasonable price and make a great desk or bookshelf addition.

Annihilation: A DVD of Arrival and a book on fascinating genetic mutations. (The photo above is from the first linked book.) Also, tell them about the Twitter account Tessa as Goats, which is a true gift to us all.

Game Night: A murder mystery game! Or whatever game you think most appeals to them, but I personally think the immersive nature of a murder mystery is a true delight. Also, something Olivia the Dog themed because she’s awesome.

A Wrinkle in Time: For the actual child: one of the books published under the Rick Riordan Presents banner.

For the child in all of us: a soothing and/or empowering adult coloring book and some nice colored pencils.

Thoroughbreds: Really cool sunglasses.

Love, Simon: Tickets to the upcoming Clea DuVall helmed queer rom com starring Kristen Stewart and YES this is a request for myself, obviously.

Blockers: Make them a dance music playlist on Spotify!! (Or burn an actual CD for peak nostalgia/those who enjoy physical media.) And if you have some time together, have your own dance party with as many or as few people as you want.

photo illustration by

Ocean’s 8: LEVERAGE! BUY THEM A SEASON OF LEVERAGE!!! Give them the gift of even more cons and fun!

Incredibles 2: If they are parents: a night out without the children (this could mean a gift certificate or an offer to babysit). If not, try something heroic like these ornaments, or something that helps them learn to be their own hero, like a self defense or kickboxing class.

Tag: LASER TAG! It’s so fun, even if you’re bad at it! Give a gift card or book a session together and enjoy chasing each other around like giant, fun-loving idiots.

photo illustration from

Set It Up: A massage. Anyone who related to this movie too much is likely very much in need of stress relief. Also, a large quantity of popcorn to be eaten in whatever manner they wish with no shame at all.

Hotel Artemis: A Swiss army knife and a couple of airplane bottles of booze.

Sorry to Bother You: An Oaktown t-shirt (I have been told by someone from the area that this is A Thing but I don’t actually know and I’m sorry for that) and a copy of Kafka’s Metamorphosis.

Crazy Rich Asians: Ideally, a whirlwind food tour of Singapore. If that’s not feasible, a Hulu subscription so they can enjoy Constance Wu’s full comic potential in Fresh Off the Boat. And a really nice candle, because it’s a small decadence that can really go a long way.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before: The Wedding Date by Jasmine Guillory (if they like a steamy read), tall socks (if they like to be cozy and cute), and custom stationary (if they like to live dangerously).

A Simple Favor: A cocktail shaker, fancy bitters, a really good mystery novel.

Widows: Tickets to go see Widows again because it’s amazing and is probably even more amazing a second time.

Kris’s Recommended Reading

Wildlife or Widows: The H-Spot: The Feminist Pursuit of Happiness

As I say in my Amazon review, this is the best applied ethics text I was never assigned. In fairness to my professors, attorney-turned-journalist Jill Filipovic hadn’t written it yet when I was a philosophy student. Filipovic is also not a philosopher. But she is a brilliant writer and a rigorous thinker, and The H-Spot is fundamentally and explicitly an Aristotelian ethical project. That is to say, it takes the starting position that political organization should be aimed at the goal of human flourishing (as opposed to, say, economic growth). From there Filipovic builds a case, or maybe it's better to say several cases, for specific ways in which American policy fails women and disproportionately women of color in this aim, and concrete ways in which it could address this failure. She does so largely through first-hand accounts of several women across America, in a wide range of socioeconomic circumstances. Although the institutions and less formal systems in play are complicated, the questions at the heart of all this are simple: What do women want? What do women need?

Filipovic asks these questions without pre-judgment, and without assuming that any answers are too unrealistic to consider. Not that anyone she talks to asks for anything "unrealistic." Partly this is because they often speak from too much experience for the unrealistic to occur to them as something they deserve to ask for, but also, the idea that woman-friendly policy is unrealistic is a Bad Take to begin with. Filipovic doesn't need to be pie-in-the-sky utopian to show how things could be much better for women (and by extension, it should but still doesn't go without saying, for everyone).

I left academic philosophy over five years ago, but I really think each chapter (built around topics like friendship, sex, parenting, and food) is brimming with potential paper topics for grad and undergrad students of ethics and/or political philosophy. Whether you’re philosophically inclined or not, if you think “women should be happy” and “the point of civilization is to make happiness easier for everyone” are uncontroversial claims, The H-Spot is the book for you -- and for your friends who loved the several underestimated women of Widows, or Carey Mulligan’s captivating portrayal in Wildlife of a woman doing the best she could within the restrictions of her era.

Black Panther: A Nation Under Our Feet

Though it helps to have some familiarity with the Avengers storylines that led up to Ta-Nehisi motherfucking Coates’s first year on the Black Panther comic -- as well as with the excellent opening arc of Matt Fraction’s Invincible Iron Man -- here’s all that even a new comics reader really needs to know before jumping into Nation: King T’Challa, the Black Panther, was recently unable to prevent several consecutive disasters in Wakanda. Both as a cause and as a result of these disasters, T’Challa worked with the so-called “Illuminati” (Tony Stark, Reed Richards, Stephen Strange, and other intellectual and strategic heavyweights) to prevent the end of the multiverse itself. That crisis averted, T’Challa has returned to Wakanda to resume his royal duties.

Coates takes as a starting premise that Wakanda, the most advanced nation on earth, would only still have a hereditary monarchy if the monarch was uniquely suited as a protector of the people. In the wake of the Panther’s failures in this regard, Nation opens with a rebellion against T’Challa’s rule on two fronts: domestic terrorists with an unknown agenda on one hand, and on the other, former officers of the Dora Milaje (the all-female royal bodyguard corps beloved by fans of the movie) rallying Wakandan women who have suffered great injustices unaddressed by the crown. The leaders of the latter, lovers Ayo and Aneka, are nominally antagonists to T’Challa, but to the reader they’re parallel protagonists. You root for both T’Challa and the Dora Milaje, even though their agendas are in tension, not unlike the way one might have rooted for both Tyrion Lannister and Robb Stark in early Game of Thrones. (Shuri’s around too, though she’s quite unlike her movie counterpart.)

When he’s not fighting or investigating, T’Challa does a lot of soul-searching and debating about his responsibilities as king, the ways it conflicts with his career as a globetrotting superhero, and whether and how the government of Wakanda must evolve. Though Wakanda is too small to be considered a superpower, the domestic terror angle, an interrogation of historical injustice, and the struggle between moral idealism and political reality make Wakanda a proxy in some important ways for modern America. (You may have noticed that Ryan Coogler did this too.) Coates’s meditation on leadership and political power made A Nation Under Our Feet not only a great superhero comic but -- this is not an exaggeration or a joke -- my favorite political writing of 2016.

Nation is illustrated mostly by Brian Stelfreeze and Chris Sprouse, with colors by Laura Martin; some of Stelfreeze’s designs clearly influenced the movie.

Thoroughbreds: Sweetpea

When a clever, mean-spirited would-be journalist with airhead friends learns that her boyfriend is cheating on her, old traumas bubble to the surface and she becomes a serial killer who targets sex offenders. Darkly, often cruelly hilarious, Sweetpea is what you’d get if American Psycho was set in southwestern England and for some reason starred Amy from Gone Girl. Protagonist Rhiannon is a self-described inhabitant of an Island of Unfinished Sentences, de facto Chief Listener of her “friend” circle, and a maker of lists. Lists of the things her friends talk about (babies, boyfriends, IKEA), signs she’d like to put up at work (please close doors quietly, please do not wear Crocs to work), and oh, the people she wants to kill. Like her boyfriend, at the moment. Or ISIS, when news coverage of a terror attack pre-empts her beloved MasterChef.

Author C.J. Skuse smartly chooses not to have Rhiannon wallow in her traumatic past as many superheroes do. We get glimpses for context, but Rhiannon is committed to moving forward, to escaping her demons rather than being defined by them. It matters that she wants to get better, even if she also hates that she’s bought into society’s definition of “better.” (#relatable)

It’s worth noting that Sweetpea leans seemingly uncritically into a lot of dated gender tropes, in Rhiannon’s assessments of the women around her. (Body positive she is not.) Then again, she’s an unreliable narrator -- one of the best demonstrations of this is a scene in which she’s convinced of her ability to fool the world into believing she’s normal, then overhears her dipshit co-workers talk about how unsettling she is -- so arguably we’re supposed to laugh at how terrible she is without necessarily agreeing with her. This is, I think, a perfectly legitimate approach to a protagonist, even if some find it unfashionable.

The book is not quite as thematically rich as it first appears, at least on the topic of sexual violence; it indulges a “stranger danger” picture of rape that doesn’t feel entirely contemporary. (For a more nuanced treatment of rape culture, see the sadly short-lived but wildly entertaining vigilante dramedy Sweet/Vicious.) But as a portrait of a vibrant, layered, genuinely Nasty-and-you-kinda-love-her-for-it woman -- given Oscar-caliber-portrayal-worthy life by Skuse’s wickedly sharp voice -- Sweetpea is too fun to pass up.

Upgrade or Infinity War: The Wild Storm

Castlevania showrunner Warren Ellis helped redefine superhero comics with 1999’s The Authority, which at DC’s request he's given a Gritty Reboot (along with the WildCATS, whom some of us remember from this extremely 90s cartoon) in The Wild Storm. Ellis has always been interested in The Future, both its potential wondrousness and its probable horror. Fans of Upgrade’s refreshingly unsanitized (and unsanitary) take on human enhancement through body modification will find much to like in Ellis’s spin on the trope of second-skin powered armor. (He semi-famously wrote Extremis, one of the comic arcs that inspired Iron Man 3.)

art by Jon Davis Hunt, from The Wild Storm #1

Angela Spica, a reimagining of Ellis’s old Authority character The Engineer, is a cybernetics expert who stumbles onto a sort of shadow government conspiracy related to her employer, and goes on the run with the armor she’s designed for them. (When not deployed, the armor is stored inside her body.) Angela is quickly targeted by multiple covert organizations, one of which rescues (?) her and brings her in on a secret history of technological arms races and contact with extraterrestrials. The Wild Storm is full of big action and bigger ideas, and for smart, generally curious superhero movie fans who find the decades-long continuities of the DC and Marvel universes intimidating, it’s a great entry -- with a blessedly planned ending -- into sci-fi-comics.

Happy holidays, and have fun gift shopping!

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