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jacksgreysays · 4 years ago

Note

Hi yes mix-and-match anon so if you're still interested in the asofterworld version of the prompt when I said 31 I meant 31 off of your old asw promptlist which translates to asw 621. If not interested this is just a hi glad you're active on tumblr again! I still love your writing!

A/N: Hello, mix-and-match anon! :D

I’ll be honest, I’m kinda cheating here because I’ve been kinda wanting to write this particular fic (or some iteration of this particular fic) for a while but I didn’t quite know how to construct it. However your prompt finally launched me in a direction even though it’s definitely drifted away from the prompt itself so thank you! I hope you enjoy even though it’s still kinda rough and I’ll probably be editing it over the next couple of days to make it more coherent and less of a bloated run on mess.

meeting and incidents unraveled

Haruno Sakura is not oblivious to the blessings and advantages she has in life.

Caring and supportive parents, a stable home life with all of her needs and a majority of her wants met. Tuition at a good school with an intellect and self-discipline to make the most of it. Pretty enough looks to be, if not popular, then well liked among her peers.

She also is not oblivious to the sort of future all of that will give her.

Acceptance at whichever university she chooses, leading to a solid, successful career in whatever field she chooses. Kind and caring relationships paving their way to a kind and caring marriage. A caring, supportive, stable future just as caring, supportive, and stable as her past.

How boring.

But she doesn't have it in her to rebel and break away, grateful for those blessings and advantages for all that they keep her on a track. There's nothing wrong with success and stability. She's not oblivious to that, at least.

She just wishes for something a little bit... more.

---

I love the way your face lights up

when someone says,

"It might be dangerous."

(I am glad we are friends.)

---

(it could have gone like this)

"Do you think she's lost?" Sakura asks her classmates, bringing their attention to the window. Clean up duties after school are hardly fun, so any distraction is a welcome one.

There's a girl standing in the shadow of the tree in the courtyard. About their age, maybe, but the school uniform doesn't match theirs at all. Almost as if she feels Sakura's gaze, the girl meets her eyes and smiles--but surely that's not right. Sakura is up on the third floor.

"What are you talking about?" Tanaka-kun asks, looking out the window and somehow failing to see. Their other classmates on clean up duty also look, but none of them spot the girl either.

"Oh, nothing," Sakura says, dropping the matter immediately. She doesn't want to be known as the weirdo who sees things that aren't there. "I can't believe Honda-sensei assigned so much homework over the weekend!" She deflects and her classmates follow the prompt easily, the new topic of conversation out of her hands.

When Sakura looks back out the window, the girl in the shadow of the tree waves.

---

Magic is better with three.

This is what Sakura learns after discovering magic is real, after discovering that she herself has magic.

Magic is better with three and magic has different Aspects and the different Aspects of magic resonate with different people.

Sakura's magic, she learns, has Aspects of Earth and Healing and Growth. Those are powerful Aspects, she's been told, she can do a lot of good with that even on her own.

But young magicians are put in teams for a reason. Magic seeks balance. The consequences of misusing magic--of overreaching with magic--are extreme at best and horrifying at worst.

Some lessons are learned the hard way.

---

(it could have gone like this)

"Oh, that's Shikako," Ino answers when Sakura finally brings it up weeks after the fact. Ino's magic has the Aspects of Mind and Flora and Adaptation which resonates nicely with Sakura's--perhaps in another world, they might have ended up on the same team, but in this particular world, well. Naruto and Sasuke are powerful magicians, but they're not very good at answering her questions...

"Shikamaru is one of my teammates," Ino continues, easily, "Shikako is his twin sister." Then her voice drops, tone a little more serious, a little more secretive. "Her Aspects never manifested."

Sakura hasn't fully absorbed all the nuances of magical culture, but this at least she can understand: without Aspects, Shikako can never use active magic.

"But she's absolutely brilliant with the academic side and she already has some research projects from the council," Ino says, quick to balance her words, and that along with the thinly veiled guilt is enough for Sakura to put the matter aside, moving on to other questions.

Still, though, it haunts her; somehow, simultaneously, in two different ways:

Shikako had been the one to find her. The girl in the shadow of the tree following a prototype magic seeker and finding a different girl who had never heard of magic, would never have known of the magic within her. Without Shikako, would she still be that magic-less boring girl destined for that magic-less boring life?

Alternatively, if Shikako had manifested her Aspects, would there even be a space for Sakura in this world of magic?

---

Uzumaki Naruto's Aspects are Sun and Belief and Present. Uchiha Sasuke's Aspects are Moon and Ambition and Past.

There was no doubt that they would be put on the same team.

Frankly, the only question was who could possibly match?

---

(it should have gone like this)

"Do you think she's lost?" Sakura asks her classmates. There's a girl standing in the shadow of the tree in the courtyard; about their age, maybe, but the school uniform doesn't match theirs at all. Almost as if she feels Sakura's gaze, the girl meets her eyes and smiles.

When it seems like none of her classmates can spot the girl in the shadow of the tree, Sakura drops the matter immediately. She doesn't want to be known as the weirdo who sees things that aren't there. She deflects and the new topic of conversation swiftly moves out of her hands.

Sakura looks back out the window, the girl in the shadow of the tree waves. Sakura exits the building, the girl in the shadow of the tree looks at her expectantly.

Sakura could ignore her and keep going--she has homework, after all--but even if she doesn't want to be known as a weirdo amongst her classmates, that doesn't mean she wants nothing interesting to happen in her life ever.

She already knows what will happen if she keeps on walking, ignoring the girl in the shadow of the tree. Sakura will go home, maybe stopping by a store or a cafe on the way. She will do her homework and do her chores and take a bath and eat dinner and sleep and do absolutely nothing out of the ordinary because her life is predictable and that's just a synonym for boring.

So Sakura goes to the tree instead.

"Hello," Sakura says, because even if this girl is merely lost and not some guide to a more exciting world surely there's no harm in being polite. "Can I help you?"

"Maybe," says the girl in the shadow of the tree, lifting one hand palm up. Preemptively, she makes her hand glow with a pale, almost distant light. "Haruno Sakura, do you believe in magic?"

---

Nobody is born with fully manifested magic.

Active magic requires agency, will power and vision. Those are shaped by a magician's sense of self, their personality and convictions. Their Aspects.

There's more, of course. But sometimes more can lead to decisions a little riskier than predicted.

---

(it should have gone like this)

At first there is no team for Sakura which is a little disheartening but also, simultaneously, a relief. Almost all of the other magicians her age have been raised around magic, she already has so much to learn and catch up on that it's almost overwhelming! She can't possibly imagine what it would be like being introduced to a new world and then immediately thrown onto a team with strangers.

But her magical peers are supportive in their own way--most of them friendly, all of them definitely interesting. Their teams are well chosen, Aspects resonating beautifully, and whenever she has the free time in between diving headfirst into her magical studies and maintaining her grades at school she wonders what her teammates will be like. If they'll match her just as nicely. If she'll even have teammates.

"Don't worry," Shikako says with a smile, supportive and kind and definitely interesting. Behind her, her teammates bicker as ever--and while Sakura will admit, blushingly, that she was a little infatuated with Sasuke in the beginning, she would go mad if she had to put up with him and Naruto for too long--but Shikako appears as calm and as fond of them as ever.

"I found you didn't I?"

She did, yes. How she found the time in between her own magical research, high-octane team, and normal schoolwork of her own is baffling to Sakura. She's grateful, of course, but still. Sakura isn't even doing half as much and she's barely keeping up!

"Don't worry," Shikako says again, and if her tone turns a little vague, her gaze going beyond Sakura, well. Shikako is a very powerful magician...

"... you belong in this world. Magic seeks balance."

And Sakura nods, because that is one of the earlier lessons she was taught upon joining the magical world. For all the strangeness of Shikako's tone, it is reassuring. So Sakura nods and continues to voraciously consume all she can about this new world she belongs to so that when her teammates do appear she'll be prepared.

Shikako finds Yakumo first--her Aspects of Sky and Art and Acceptance--then comes Isaribi with the Aspects of Sea and Transformation and Trust. And Sakura finally feels like she actually belongs.

---

Magic is not completely a science, for all that there is cause and effect. It's not entirely an art, either, though some talented magicians make it seem that way. There are some parts of it that are understandable, quantifiable and predicable, but there is so much more that is beyond human comprehension. Even active magic which requires, in essence, humanity, can be beyond explanation.

Aspects are an attempt at doing so, but for all that they determine the futures of most magicians, they can't perfectly encompass the whole of a magician's power. Because magic exists beyond words and definitions. Even abstract concepts can fail. Trying to apply terminology to magic? Might as well punch a god in the face.

And so when a girl born to the magical world, even if her Aspects manifest a little late, if there already exists a place for her on a team where she resonates so powerfully, well.

Stars and Determination and Future are close enough...

... for a human, that is.

---

(but it actually went like this)

A few months after an ordinary day in which no interesting strangers showed up to derail Sakura's life, she is on her way home from school. She's thinking about maybe stopping by a store or a cafe on the way, but maybe not. She still has to do her homework and chores before she can take a bath and eat dinner and sleep and do absolutely nothing out of the ordinary because her life is predictable and that's just a synonym for boring.

A pair of boys--about her age, maybe, but in school uniforms different from hers--stop her. They've been looking for her, they say, and while the dark-haired one is handsome enough that she'd normally blush and think it romantic first words, his tone and the fact that his blonde friend is also there ruins that theory.

Also, they know her name and that's weird. She says as much, which causes them to start bickering, and in their distracted state she takes the opportunity to escape.

The next day, on her way home from school--along the same, predictable path, of course--she is stopped by a strange man. Both unfamiliar and unusual. Almost his entire face is covered and his hair is grey and he slouches as if in apology for his height. He asks her if she believes in magic.

She knows a creep when she sees one and runs in the opposite direction. She'll take the long way home.

The next few days she changes up her route going home because, yes, sometimes she's naïve but she's not completely oblivious. It still doesn't really help though, because this time its a trio of strangers--thankfully around her age--but still not great.

"Those idiots," the girl says, flicking her long blonde ponytail in fashionable irritation, "I can't believe they messed up this bad. What an awful first impression, she's already spooked."

One of the boys, dark hair and sleepy eyes, just shrugs and responds, "Well if she's really going to end up on their team, it's not like her second impression is going to be much better."

If they're talking about who she thinks she's talking about she's not exactly pleased with them either.

The other boy, reddish hair and round cheeks, looks her in the eye and gives a friendly smile. Despite the situation, something within Sakura relaxes a little. "Would you like to try out that cafe? Our treat," he says, and its not an entirely unwanted offer. She doesn't have too much work waiting for her at home and she deserves something nice.

"Okay," she says, and lets them pay for her anmitsu while they tell her about magic, the magical world, and how she fits into all of it.

---

Humans are not the only beings capable of magic.

---

(but it actually went like this)

Sakura is worried and overwhelmed and frustrated and she knows she shouldn't complain because she does honestly enjoy magic and the world its brought her into and she wouldn't dare go back to that ordinary, predictable, boring life.

But she wishes that her teammates weren't so abrasive and prickly, that her teacher were a little more engaged. It's been months already since she joined Naruto and Sasuke's team. She doesn't know why they're being so difficult when she hasn't even done anything wrong!

She's headed to the training grounds but in a wandering path, if she's honest. She's normally a punctual person, but Kakashi-sensei has never once been on time and she can just as easily not talk to her teammates here as she can at the training grounds.

The part of the city she's in isn't so urban as to have skyscrapers, but in this district the buildings are all at least several stories and practical, blocky metal and cement. The looming structure made of curving wood and stone looks more like a tree than anything else.

There is a girl standing in the shadow of the tree that isn’t. She meets Sakura's eyes, smiles, and waves.

Sakura has been studying the magical world. Knows about the dangers young magicians can face in a world that wants to eat them alive. Knows that nice exteriors don't necessarily mean kind hearts.

But she also knows, somehow, that if she walks away now she will never see this girl again.

"Hello," Sakura says, because there's no harm in being polite, "Can I help you?"

"Maybe," says the girl in the shadow of the tree that isn't. "Haruno Sakura, do you believe in destiny?"

---

Gelel: Light, Unity, Creation.

Jashin: Void, Suffering, Destruction.

Magic seeks balance.

Magic is better with three.

---

"If you could," the girl begins, a wistful sort of smile on her face, "tell them I said its not their fault. It was entirely on me. I overreached and had to face the consequences."

"What did you do?" Sakura asks before she can swallow down her curiosity

Shikako says, "Some lessons are learned the hard way..."

At first, Sakura thinks that's all she will say, a dismissive sort of answer, but then Shikako continues:

"...but perhaps not all of them. Hopefully you’ll learn from my mistakes," she says with a small bitter smile, gaze going beyond Sakura.

"I foresaw danger and thought I could prevent it,” Shikako says, almost a confession. “But the more magic I had, the more danger arose, until I found myself trying to make a deal with the Shinigami."

If any of the horror Sakura feels is showing on her face, Shikako doesn't let that deter her.

"Unsurprisingly, the Shinigami is very good at making deals and somewhat overworked." Shikako's smile is wider now, more real. "I asked him for the world where all of my friends and family lived. He said I should make it myself."

"So now I'm Death's apprentice," she shrugs, almost casual about it even though the very concept is giving Sakura a headache. "Shikabane-hime, the Lady Cosmos, the Space-Time Witch, whatever," she lists, rolling her eyes, impossibly blasé about her various titles.

"It's not so bad, I guess. But I do miss my friends and family."

Finally, something Sakura can wrap her brain around! "Do you want me to tell them that, too?"

Shikako blinks, almost surprised, before she tilts her head. "Maybe? I mostly meant that, well... I know in this timeline I’m just a stranger, but it's nice to see you again, Sakura. And just in case you had any doubts: you were always destined for greatness."

A/N: If you couldn’t tell from this mess, it was supposed to be more xxxholic/CLAMP than Madoka Magica (which I haven’t actually watched) but from what little I know of the latter, I wouldn’t blame anyone for getting that sort of vibe. Don’t worry, it’s kinda a good ending. I mean, Shikako literally made a deal with multiple gods in order to make it so.

edit: I have come up with a title/tag for this

“meeting and incidents unraveled”

#jacksgreyson #anonymous #prompt response #wrting #fanfiction #could should actually fic #a softer ask box #dreaming of sunshine #naruto #xxxholic #sakura haruno #shikako nara #meeting and incidents unraveled

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whitehotharlots · 4 years ago

Text

Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit.

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination.

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle.

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn’t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds.

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store.

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin.

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man.

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben.

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist.

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny.

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men.

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier.

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it’ll end his career.

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry.

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run.

Mayor Pete

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around.

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure.

Amy Klobuchar

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable.

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties.

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blackwoolncrown · 5 years ago

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irt diets first of all ‘diet’ should jsut mean ‘what you eat’ not ‘restricted eating but anyway with that aside TO ME the 3 things to consider are meat, refined sugar and wheat because these things are ubiquitous in our culture but only got there via exploitation. We didn’t have all this refined sugar without slavery, we didn’t get our other grains replaced by wheat without colonizer empires, and it takes massive industrialization and land use to constantly pump out massive amounts of animals for mass consumption.

So not to say what anyone shoudl or shouldn’t do but asking yourself how something came to be and under what conditions can be a good marker for what you do and don’t want in your diet or just how much of it you want to consume, which is up to you. Because the history of foods is often more meaningful than any weirdo purity arguments about starving yourself of this and that. Ask yourself what we were eating before and eat more of that instead of trying to see it as eating less of anything.

Like it’s so annoying when ~nutrition~ diet culture vegan this that and the other ppl come out talking about what’s a new ‘superfood’ and how eating more of it can enhance your diet. They don’t really tend to talk about it in terms of like, if you are eating more of a good thing, you are also probably eating less of a bad thing, and things are balancing out. I think it’d be efficient enough to just tell people to eat more of stuff- eat more cruciferous veggies, eat more complex/whole sugars (fruit, brown, molasses, coconut syrups etc instead of things with refined sugar), eat more varied proteins (beans, lentils, mushrooms, eggs etc).

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eternalravendreamer · 5 years ago

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Fire Emblem Three Houses: School Clubs

(sorry this is so long)

Black Eagles

Edelgard: Debate Team Captain, but she has to remember to keep up her cover; some of those debates hit home and she gets a little too passionate. She’s also a Volunteer Animal Caretaker, showing her soft side for cats.

Hubert: Considers joining Edelgard on the Debate Team, but he doesn't want to seem suspicious so he joins the Paranormal Investigation Club and ends up being unanimously voted Vice President. To everyone’s shock, he’s also a Volunteer Animal Caretaker, having a love for the pegasus.

Caspar: No doubt, he joins the recreational Brawling Team. He and Raphael hit it off and become great pals and rivals, often eating together with...concerning voraciousness.

Lindhart: Philosophy Society, but he tends to just rant and immediately pass out whenever it's someone else's turn to speak. He considers joining the Mindfulness and Meditation group but gets sleepy just thinking of it...and is actually pretty terrible at yoga.

Dorothea: Of COURSE she's in the Theater Department! It's canon! She tries to take a junior director role so other students can have a chance at big roles. She also assists the Choir and Dancer Society

Petra: She's one of the few non-Golden Deer students on the recreational Archery Team. She's excited when the other students ask for her to demonstrate Brigid archery techniques. And when Claude establishes the International Culture Society, she joins to give first hand information.

Bernadetta: She wants to stay in her room clubless, but when she hears about the Crafts Club, she gets a little excited and decides to check it out. Mercedes' comforting aura is perfect for making Bernie comfortable enough to participate, and she even convinces Bernie to check out the Gardening Club despite her fear of Dedue, and even joins the Writing & Literature Club...anonymously, by submitting her work when nobody is around to see her. She wanted to be a Volunteer Animal Caretaker, but was too intimidated by the sheer number of other members.

Ferdinand: Debate Team Vice-Captain...and mad about it. Starts so many "example debates" with Edelgard for the other members that it tends to get out of hand. Also joins the Dancer Society, much to Dorothea’s displeasure.

Blue Lions

Dimitri: At first he considers some of the more intense clubs, like Debate or the Young Knight’s Union, but after encouraging Dedue to be in the club he really wanted, Dimitri joins the academy's Mindfulness and Meditation group. He's kind of nervous at first, but Claude helps him relax. It does wonders for his mental health.

Dedue: With Dimitri's encouragement, he becomes President of the Gardening and Cooking clubs. Just being a regular member of more than one club is usually a handful, but these are both super chill, so his job is easy.

Annette: Another multi-club student, she participates in Choir as well as the Young Mages Society. She also stops in to check on Mercedes in the Cooking Club, but was...discouraged from joining by the dining hall staff.

Mercedes: She’s balancing quite a few clubs! She’s the founding member and President of the Paranormal Investigation Club and Crafts Club, as well as the baking expert of the Cooking Club and a member of the Young Mages Society. And on top of all that, she’s a Volunteer Animal Caretaker.

Sylvain: He jokingly suggests a Singles Club and is immediately turned down by Seteth. So instead he ends up joining the Writing & Literature Club, much to the surprise of everyone. Ends up being Bernadetta’s biggest fan.

Ingrid: Of course she joins the Young Knight’s Union! She loves being surrounded by others who value chivalry and honor codes as much as she does. On that note she also joins the Writing & Literature Club, gushing about her favorite knight tales.

Felix: At first he declares he wants nothing to do with recreational activities, claiming it distracts from training. But then the academy’s recreational Fencing/Dueling (swords) Team tells him that if he joins, he can participate in competitions with other academies from across Fodlan. He becomes their star member in no time.

Ashe: Absolutely the President of the Writing & Literature Club, as well as Vice President of the Cooking Club. He wanted to make an Animal Appreciation Club to help care for all the cats, dogs, horses, and owls on campus, but the number of applicants to join got so out of hand that Rhea decided that it was just gonna be a proper volunteering position instead, called Volunteer Animal Caretakers.

Golden Deer

Claude: As ever, Claude is a busybody, a jack of all trades. He tends to be a regular “drop in” at certain clubs like the Mindfulness and Meditation group and even the Paranormal Investigation Team, but not a proper member, However, he’s a true member of the Writing & Literature Club, Debate Team. Archery Team, Philosophy Society, and even the creator of the International Culture Society. Nobody knows how he manages to balance it all, plus everything else.

Hilda: “Joining a club sounds like too much work”, she said, until she hears about the Crafts Club and immediately joins. It’s refreshing to have some other appreciators of handmade accessories to hang out with! Claude convinces her to join the Mindfulness and Meditation group too, since it’s the perfect place to chill out.

Lorenz: He wanted to make a Young Nobles Society, but was told no clubs were allows to purposely not allow commoner students. So instead be joins the Debate Team, Young Mages Society (even though his magic is pretty average compared to the rest of the group), and the Dancers Society (to Dorothea’s even greater displeasure). He also submits his poetry to the Writing & Literature Club...anonymously, just like Bernie.

Marianne: She would consider being clubless, but the moment she hears about the Volunteer Animal Caretakers she signs up right away. It would be her only club, but it would open her up a little more.

Ignatz: He would definitely join the Crafts Club, which is technically for any soft of craft or art, painting included. It would give him a space where his passion was accepted, which he desperately needed. He’d consider joining the Young Knight’s Union to save face with his family, but feels bad at the thought of not putting genuine effort into it.

Raphael: As mentioned before, he’s on the recreational Brawling Team! He and Caspar are both the stars of the team, but Raph is the one everyone can come to for a bear hug.

Leonie: Definitely part of the Archery Team. She’d be pretty competitive even with her teammates, which Shamir scolds her for straight away. Since she tends to have a narrow focus on only one or two goals, I doubt she’d join anything else.

Lysithea: She joins the Young Mages Society right away, and impresses everyone...as well as becomes the unofficial “mascot” of the group, which she hates but accepts after being bribed with sweets. Stays far away from the Paranormal Investigation Team.

Church of Seiros & Faculty:

Flayn: Once she’s officially a student of the Academy, she’s enthusiastic to join a club. She definitely signs up to be a Volunteer Animal Caretaker, and joins the Writing & Literature Club (which makes Seteth very happy). She considers joining the Dancer Society but takes one peek in on their practice, sees Ferdinand and Lorenz in the dancer outfits, and leaves.

Seteth: He’s the faculty adviser of the Writing & Literature Club, since he himself enjoys writing children’s stories. He also acts as the moderator for the Debate Team, and is part of the Faculty Fishing Group.

Byleth: Along with being a member of the Faculty Fishing Group, they would be the faculty adviser for the Volunteer Animal Caretakers, as well as the Mindfulness and Meditation group. Someone’s gotta give these kids therapy, might as well be the half-feral, weirdo mercenary

Jeralt: All Knights of Seiros are required to help out with the Young Knight’s Union, but since he’s more merc than knight anymore, he spends more time with the Faculty Fishing Group. Though he does pop in on the Paranormal Investigation Team from time to time. His kid’s basically a cryptid after all.

Rhea: While being the Archbishop would take up 99% of her time, Rhea is resolute on wanting to contribute to at least one of the Academy’s student clubs. And she chooses to be the faculty adviser for the Gardening Club. Staff and students alike are shocked, since Dedue is the leader of the group, but Rhea likes flowers and wants to encourage the small collection of students who have chosen to work in the Greenhouse.

Manuela: Of course she’s the director of the Theater and Choir! She’s also the instructor for the Dancer Society. Her former experience in the Opera make these three clubs near and dear to her heart, so she and Dorothea put their all into them.

Hanneman: The faculty adviser of the Young Mages Society and Paranormal Investigation Team, as well as the Philosophy Society. He wants to challenge the students to think critically.

Catherine: As a Knight of Seiros, she helps out with the Young Knight’s Union, and is popular with the students there. After Jeritza...leaves, she takes over for him as the coach for the Fencing/Dueling Team as well.

Jeritza: Coach for the Fencing/Dueling Team, he’s a great teacher but awkward when the students try to talk to him outside of practice.

Shamir: Coach for the Archery Team, and while she’s technically a mercenary she still has to help a little with the Young Knight’s Union. She also decided to be the faculty adviser for the International Culture Society, occasionally telling the students about life in Dagda.

Alois: He LOVES helping the Young Knight’s Union, since he used to be a member himself. He also coaches the Brawling Team and is an avid member of the Faculty Fishing Group...even if he never catches anything.

Cyril: He’s not a student, so he can’t technically be part of any clubs, but Rhea often has him come with her to the Gardening Club, and Shamir has him practice with the Archery Team...and try to reconnect with his Almyran heritage in the International Culture Society.

Gilbert: While he tries to keep a low profile (Seteth pls force this man to pay his overdue child support), he does help the Young Knight’s Union, and is a regular at the Faculty Fishing Group. He also acts as the faculty adviser for the Cooking and Crafts Clubs, since he enjoys cooking and woodcarving himself. Although there are some repeated issues of him not being too keen on working with Dedue.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #long post #fe black eagles #fe blue lions #fe gold #fe church of seiros #fe16

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comicteaparty · 5 years ago

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February 3rd-February 9th, 2020 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from February 3rd, 2020 to February 9th, 2020. The chat focused on Park Planet by Sammy Newman.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Park Planet by Sammy Newman~! (http://parkpla.net/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace until February 9th, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Discussions are freeform, but we do offer discussion prompts in the pins for those who’d like to have them. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic! Whether you finish the comic or can only read a few pages, everyone is welcome to join and chat with us!

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 1

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic?

2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)?

3. Who is your favorite character?

4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most?

5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores?

7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content?

8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

first impressions are that the art has an attractive newspaper-comic style and is very clean for being a rare traditionally drawn comic

RebelVampire

Attractive newspaper style is a good way to describe it. What I like about the art the most though are the unique merger of the complex designs and the simplicity. For example, the faces are a bit simple to match the tone and overall nature of the comic. Yet at the same time, there's all these interesting alien designs throughout that are all very unique. But everything fits so seamlessly together. Which I feel is kind of the strength of the comic. Is it does a really great job with balancing different aspects. Complexity and simplicity, serious drama and comedy, etc. It's one of those comics that feels like warm soup because it has a bit of everything.

Ranger

Indeed, thus far it blends individual vignettes with characterization very well to remain fresh while still maintaining enough coherency to be enjoyable. Will definitely keep reading it

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I think "warm soup" is a great way to describe the comic! It has this cozy, nostalgic feel that you'd get from a well-written Sunday newspaper comic - but the concept is also super unique and intriguing on its own! - Can we talk about how great of a character Paisley is? She's got the whole emotionless robot vibe going, but she's one of the kindest characters in the comic despite that. And the way her character develops over the course of the comic is super satisfying (e.g., getting a date at the dance)!

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I'm in love with the charming stylization of letters and layout so far-- its easy to sink in a read some pages during downtime and pick right up for the next read. Page 5 of 'craft time' made me snort out loud, these jokes are always landing and play out well! And as far as fav character, Paisley is so sweet and is def hitting chords for me!

varethane

I love the end of this page where Paisley lights the fire with her eyes to impress the campers!!! http://parkpla.net/index.php/page/book-0001/004-paisleys-day/

RebelVampire

I do like the interesting blend Paisley has going on between being robotic and being human. I actually like that the story doesn't go too serious on the whole theme of humanity when it comes to non-humans. Although my favorite moment regarding Paisley is when the translators break and Paisley's joke is to speak in binary. It's definitely one of my favorite things about the beginning of the comic since I think it really captures both the comedy and unique alien aspects of the comic.

However, if I had to pick a favorite character I'd go with Wurlitzer. Cause I can't even. This is legit one of the most unpredictable characters to me, and I enjoy every moment Wurlitzer is around, because its just the sort of character that causes conflict by being in the same room as any other character.

I'd actually even say my fave moment is the company get together where Wurlitzer is doing introductions and is just kind of oblivious to everyone's attitudes and awkwardness. It's both funny, but also makes the social awkwardness relateable since it's easy to imagine having a boss like this. Overally, though, I also like any moments where the alien thing is brought up. This to me is the best part of the content cause there's so much to explore here and it just brings this really unique concept to webcomics by combining it with a park.

Ranger

Paisley is a favorite thus far

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Everybody loves Paisley and so do I

I think "warm soup" and "Sunday comic" are great descriptions

But the world with the non-human characters brings uniqueness

Found a mistake on this page:

http://parkpla.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/SM5_tumblrtest.jpg

The dialogue randomly changes into type

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I love this art style

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

i think the type is intentional

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

That might have been an intentional choice if the artist was pressed for time or something

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

she's talking like through her teeth and mumbling

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I thought that may be the case, but his text also changes into type? So I think the author typesets by hand tracing over typed text, and forgot to do it here, maybe?

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 2

9. What do you think happened to the humans and Earth? What do you think necessitated the creation of the park, and do you think it’s helping to preserve what’s left of Earth?

10. What moment of the work mixer did you relate to or enjoy the most and why? What about the entire scenario in general captures what it’s like to socialize at events like this?

11. What aspect of human-alien interaction have you enjoyed the most so far? How has this changed or given context to your thinking in how much of our lives are culture based?

12. What do you think this comic can teach us in general about fitting in with others, especially when we personally feel socially outcasted?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

RebelVampire

To address one of the prompts I didn't get to, I like seeing Wurlitzer interact with basically anyone. I never really know what I'm going to get when it comes to Wurlitzer, so any strip goes to unexpected and fun places in those cases. Onto story stuff though! As for what happened to the humans, definitely some sort of mass extinction event. Probably something like climate change not fixed because of the fact they're also trying to preserve animals from earth as well. So I have a distinct feeling Earth isnt habitable in the comic's setting. >_> I also mentioned my favorite moment from the mixer earlier. However, in regards to the second part of the question, for me what really capture what its like to socialize at events like this is the facial expressions. Every single person is just a bit stiff, and even if they arent miserable, theres this hint in their expressions that they don't really want ot be there. And I feel most ppl feel that way about company get togethers. It's more tedious than it is fun. XD For human-alien interactions, it's actually probably this strip http://parkpla.net/index.php/page/book-0001/005-upcoming-events-at-hartwood-park/ Particular the last panel where the alien is making fun of ice cream for being so filled with sugar. I kind of feel this comic in general is a good reminder that "normal" is malleable. What's normal somewhere really isn't normal elsewhere. And it's usually the stuff we take for granted as normal. Like I'm sure one day there'll be aliens who see us eating with forks and go "WTF are these weirdos doing they have perfectly good hands." But either way, I kind of feel the comic shows a lot of scenes like that where just a bunch of mundane things are novel and weird to aliens.

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 3

13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic?

14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

RebelVampire

In regards to what this comic teaches us about fitting in, i think for one, it's difficult. However, I think it also shows a little bit that we'll never fit in if we don't try. Like certainly the mixer was awkward, but imagine if nobody had gone to it. Nothing is ever gained by not trying. Also, I think this comic also kind of teaches a bit of self fulfilling prophecies. In that if you think too much that you won't fit in, then you probably won't fit in because the confidence just isn't there. Anyway, what I'm most looking forward to the comic I think is just learning a bit more about the human situation and also just seeing in general more human-alien interactions. I think this is the most interesting part of the comic since there's so much you can do in regards to questioning what is universal and what is just being human, and the writing is pretty all around great with this interesting aspect.

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Park Planet this week! Please also give a special thank you to Sammy Newman for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Park Planet, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: http://parkpla.net/

Sammy’s Shop: https://www.sammynewman.com/shop

Sammy’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/otterlogic

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic book club #webcomic bookclub #comic tea party #ctp #park planet #sammy newman

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aurora-daily · 6 years ago

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Mother Earth’s Warrior

Interview: Aurora for The Line of Best Fit by Cheri Amour (September 28th, 2018)

Norway’s greatest pop export, AURORA speaks to Cheri Amour about her not-so-difficult second album and why it opens up a forest of thought for our future preservation.

There have long been popular culture characters in our midst hell-bent on saving the planet. Healing the world and making it a better place, for you and me and the entire human race. But there’s something different about AURORA Aksnes, better known as million-streamed Norwegian singer/songwriter, AURORA. Her latest release, Infections of A Different Kind, puts Mother Earth at its heart.

It feels fitting then to be sat in one of London’s luscious parks together, AURORA decked out in green amongst the evergreen sipping on her coconut water. She is slight but by no means shy and constantly alert, throwing out relatable anecdotes that seem to be skipping through her mind as she scans her surroundings. Her eyes are shining bright, often looking outwards rather than directly at me. Instead, she is constantly seeking out the sky, the clouds, darting at the path of a pigeon, beaming at a small child opposite us on another table. At one point, she becomes distracted by my stationary choices (“I have the same pen but in green”) and is immediately back in the bustling streets of gay Paris where she made the purchase, with her underlying care and compassion for all things, living or otherwise. “I should’ve brought mine and they’ve could’ve spoken”.

It’s been over two years since the singer sprang onto our stereos like a forest-spirit from the Bergen mountains with her debut EP, Running With Wolves. But whilst her musical mission might be led by a bold vision for a brighter future, her present still looks pretty rosy with debut full-length, All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend racking up a massive 200 million streams globally. It’s an almost magical might for an artist who only celebrated her 22nd birthday this year. But on speaking with AURORA, her emotional intelligence is undeniable. “I know the world is not a fairy tale and we’re just doing our best…” she happily admits, an astute admission for someone so renowned for her enchanting pop gems.

For the Bergen-based artist though, her strength clearly comes from the collective power of change rather than the sole-creator. She often refers more holistically to an issue than nitpicking specifics. Indeed, it’s this rallying sense of collective change that has gifted AURORA such a solid fan base of “warriors and weirdos” from the depths of South America to the smaller towns and cities of Australia. “It’s so important to fight for the things you care about”, she continues. “They have proven they can do that. They share my message. They stand up for me. If one person disagrees with what I do, they go to war”.

It reminds me of another story of a similarly impassioned figure wanting to make collective change in their world. Often admired as the crowning work of Japanese animation master Hayao Miyazaki and his Studio Ghibli, Princess Mononoke powerfully paints the struggle between the gods of a forest and the humans who consume its resources. And, it seems unbeknownst to Ghibli at the time, over 20 years on from its original release, that same spirit hasn’t been lost in Infections of A Different Kind.

Her relationship with nature is woven throughout, a sort of Hansel and Gretel style breadcrumb trail through her mind’s eye of the world around us. Much like Ghibli’s tale which finds the main protagonist locked in a struggle for the future of the unspoiled forest and an elaborate moral universe, the sophomore record is rooted in Mother Earth. “We are killing incredible beauty without even knowing that we’ve already killed so much”, she reflects, her fingers playing with a small burgundy, woven scarf. It looks homemade, thin and narrow, entwined around her small hands. “We’ve killed entire species of animals. We’ve killed possibilities of making medicine. We’ve killed people”, she pauses, clearly upset by the thoughts. “It makes me sad because I know the planet will live. She will outlive us all and we will die because we’re just tiny ants on her big skin”.

But despite her worry, life and death feel like a natural cycle for AURORA, as you might expect from someone so clued up on the climate. She speaks confidently about nature’s balance, preferring the pragmatic output of an organism rather than anything overly fussy which could also be true of the sounds she makes. “I don’t really like flowers that much. They’re too pretty for their own good. People pick them and they get to die inside a vase”. If she were a flower, AURORA would be a dried white rose, perfectly encapsulated within a moment of time; pure, classic and radiating humility. Meanwhile, lavender for its medicinal properties and affection to bees gets a glowing write up. “That’s my favourite thing about Mother Earth actually”, she explains. “All the knowledge and all that she provides us; the fruit, the medicine. That’s why we need the rainforest but we tear it down”.

Only recently have we seen the devastating effects of illegal logging in the Papua New Guinea forests which provide a home for many of its unique species. Most timbers from New Guinea and its offshore islands are processed in China before being sold around the world, largely for use in furniture and flooring. Likewise, in the Amazon around 17% of the forest has been lost in the last 50 years, mostly due to forest conversion for cattle ranching. Sadly it’s the global brand giants causing most of the destruction with Greenpeace releasing a recent report that identified major palm olive producers such as Unilever, Nestlé, Colgate-Palmolive, and Mondelez, have destroyed an area of rainforest almost twice the size of Singapore in less than three years. The problem is, much like the Native American saying, what will happen after the last tree has fallen and the rivers have been poisoned?

Live favourite, "The Seed" encapsulates this idea. Her vocal is moving, selflessly offering herself up to restore what humanity has destroyed: “Suffocate me / So my tears can be rain / I will water the ground where I stand / So the flowers can grow back again”. "The Seed" acts like the nucleus of change for AURORA. It’s the birth of something. It’s thought or an act or a movement. “It’s the beginning of everything”, she explains, enthused. “The way the seed lies underground with no sun, nothing, darkness but it knows where to go and then it breaks through the stone, the mountain, asphalt, and earth. All these things they came from down there”, she insists, pointing at a nearby flower bed at which point her gaze is caught by a fluttering pigeon on the roof. After a few seconds, she apologises: “The pigeons are so distracting”.

Conversation turns to her own beginnings, painting a picture of her home back in Norway which sounds like something straight out of a Lord of The Rings novel. A fjord carved out by glaciers in the ice ages with a little island in the middle of it that she would often take a small kayak out to and sleep overnight on in the summer when the sun rarely sets. “On one of them lives quite an angry goat so don’t go there. He’s like a proper…”, she gesticulates the animal’s horns with her hands by her ears. “He’s intense. All the other ones are fine”, she laughs. The open water feels like it is a bit of a theme to her early years, spending much of her childhood on sailboats of some varieties, not surprising for a country that has the kind of tight relationship with water that Brits have with tea. Whether it's coastline, fjord, lake or river, water is everywhere in Norway and Norwegians make the most of it. Her father sailed the seas for four years in a row before she was born, she tells me proudly.

The other towering backdrop to her youth were those sturdy mountains and an ambitious walking regime. The latter almost certainly a contributing factor to her ingenuity and appreciation of the rambling flora and fauna so prevalent in her songwriting today. “We’d go for mountain hikes at least four times a week”, she states, matter of factly. “You bring some chocolate with bread and cheese to eat at the top. It’s kind of what you do together with your Mum’s friend and her kid, you know?” Perhaps not the same as growing up in the flatlands of Norfolk, I admit. “Well, it’s very normal in Norway, especially Bergen because you have the mountains everywhere”, she continues. There’s a mountain in every city at least. In every village. And in my village, we only have eight neighbours, there’s only us living there. And I look at the water and I have the forest behind me. She openly sighs and takes a moment, transporting herself back to the shimmering open waters, stood with lungs full of the fresh mountain air.

Surrounded by such a magical setting, it’s not surprising that AURORA tries to create a kingdom of her own for listeners. The first hint at the new record, former single “Queendom” is dedicated to “everything that’s alive”. Insistent that “Queendom” should be a place “with only love”, the song is also a celebration of our differences with an open innocence that tries to find the best in all of us. Again, Ghibli’s own ethical ethos rings true here, with Princess Mononoke heralded as for its ability to make heroes of outsiders and blurring the stereotypes that usually define such characters. It’s the same for AURORA. She is an artist breaking down huge barriers around inclusivity which shine through “Queendom”’s electro-pulse and call-to-arms. “It’s very much about giving hope, like being given the tools to become a warrior, a fighter to deal with the now. Not an escape but a way to really stay in the present, and make a change”.

Directed by Paris-based, Polish-Australian Director King Burza, the single’s video finds Aurora bathed in natural light exploring the cavernous surrounds of an old country home, the dappled light falling on her through the beaten window frames. She leaps through the high-ceiling hallways in flowing white cotton, much like the lyrics suggest, as our lamb. The pulsing chorus beat kicks in with a procession of women dancers weaving behind her arms like the Shiva herself, the fierce warrior Goddess. With Scandinavia often heralded for its gender parity, it’s not surprising that a huge part of “Queendom”’s rallying cry is being channeled into some sort of feminist anthem but as AURORA herself says: “it’s much more than that. I want it to be a song for people in need”.

“I began writing for Infections of A Different Kind the day after my first album was released...it’s good when it’s fresh when you’re still like a predator. You can still smell the blood from the prey."

With its timely post-#metoo-era release, it’s not surprising that there’s a strong focus on the strength of women in here though as well as flipping assumed gender norms and empowering an army, as she sings: “The women will be my soldiers / With the weight of life on their shoulders”. It’s an element of Nordic folklore that really spoke to her warrior instincts. “I like that it was often the women that hunted. When the men went out on a journey to kill and steal, the women stayed and were the boss which is kind of cool”. Similarly, she sees herself played back to her in scrappy forest-dwelling nymphs, the Huldra. “They had messy hair like I had when I was a child”, she jokes.

Propelled by our comparisons, talk turns into a bit of an education in Norwegian children’s tales as she boasts that many of them centre around a troll. Whether that’s a troll turning to stone in the sun before it eats the children or the story of a young boy from the village who challenges the troll to a porridge-eating contest. Tactfully tying his knapsack to his belly, the boy scoops more porridge into the bag than he eats himself and then, once full, slashes it open encouraging the troll to do the same so they can power through the porridge. Fooled by the boy, the troll cuts his stomach and dies leaving all of the gold and silver in the cave for the boy to take home to pay off his family debts. “Then you have the troll mother who has put her eleven troll children to bed. That’s the first song I sang when I was two years old in my Mum’s blue kitchen”, she recalls. A newborn with pink cheeks begins to whimper to its Mum on the table next to us now which lures the singer’s attention away for a fleeting moment, her mouth fixed in a wide-open smile. “Sorry, babies and pigeons. Very distracting”, she reasons.

After the brief introduction to Norwegian folklore, it feels apt to ask around the production of the new record which took place in a fairytale studio-cum-chateau somewhere in the South of France. Positioned in a vineyard surrounded by animals and a pond, the castle sounds like the right kind of pastoral setting for such a life-affirming record. AURORA details an almost Beauty And The Beast-like existence there, holed up in the huge house’s halls and libraries for just over a month. Chef Marie cooked a three-course meal, three times a day whilst the dog Paula and cat, Ginger amble through the corridors.

It becomes clear quite quickly that AURORA hasn’t faced the difficult second album syndrome. “I began writing for it the day after my first album was released because then the first album had been done already for four months”, she beams. “That’s why I always begin right after I release right after my previous thing. I begin on the next”. A natural hunter, she adds: “It’s good when it’s fresh when you’re still like a predator. You can still smell the blood from the prey. And you’re kind of just running after it and you know where to go, that’s how I felt”.

It was a fairly natural process then? “I found it way easier than the first because I really knew what I wanted. I’ve always known since I was an embryo what I want and now I have the tools to make it happen. I know how to produce, and how to play more instruments. I played the drums and the rhythms. The multi-instrumentalist played drums on all of the songs on Infections of A Different Kind, actually, it’s kind of a new passion for her. “I love it. It’s very energetic and you get quite tired afterward which I love. I love the feeling of exhausting myself”, she grins.

"I have my own dream language which half of the population understands...a fourth...an eleventh so I also had to learn things myself because I am the only one who can know."

Adding to her workload, AURORA took up a lot of the production duties on the record too which makes a powerful statement in a world for far too many women artists are corralled into working with male producers. She’s not afraid to tackle this in her own terms, often struggling to articulate what she wanted using the technical language, the singer offers up her own alternative parallels: “Make it sound like water or bellyache”. “I realised I don’t have the technical language. I have my own dream language which half of the population understands...a fourth...an eleventh so I also had to learn things myself because I am the only one who can know”. She’s adamant that crafting her music, much like her new love of drums, is one of her biggest pleasures. The ability to realise her imagined worlds into reality gives her a certain sense of belonging which, in the future, might remain a constant more so than the live show. “If there’s one thing I’ll do less of, you know in forty years, it’s touring. But not studio, I’ll always be there”, she adds resolutely.

But despite her preference, she knows the power of sharing her songs with her legion of fans and she confesses many of the new numbers have already made it into the live set. “I think at one point it was maybe a bit too many. I like all my songs better live just because of the energy so it’s always nice to know that the fans will get to experience that first”. And that’s exactly what AURORA has tried to do with the release schedule of the record, teasing one more single out last week ahead of today’s full-length. The stark opener of “Churchyard” finds AURORA’s sincere vocal layered over one another and doused in reverb as a solemn strings section soothes in with a morbid twang as she questions the fine balance between life and love. You can almost see the arms flailing theatrics of similarly environmental leaning, Kate Bush against the beat.

Indeed, AURORA isn’t the first artist looking to heal the world with their humanitarian ideals. Pop’s biggest ally, Cher donated more than 180,000 bottles of water to Flint, Michigan, in the middle of the city's clean-water crisis. Grammy Award-winning, Rihanna was named Harvard Humanitarian of the Year back in 2017 for her philanthropic efforts after funding the build of a state-of-the-art centre for oncology and nuclear medicine to diagnose and treat breast cancer in her home nation of Barbados. Infections of A Different Kind stands united with Mother Earth almost as a vocal shining a floodlight on the dire situation we’ve left her in.

At this point, playing with the tousled strands of her hair, AURORA is whisked off for another meeting and disappears into the trees of Holland Park, much like the Huldra into the Norwegian forest. Just from spending an hour with her, it’s clear how much the Norwegian songwriter cherishes real connections with the people she meets and is keen to create a shared space where we can all co-exist together; new technologies alongside sustainable ecosystems. Without national treasure, David Attenborough preaching about the plastics in our oceans, it’s sometimes easy for us to cut out the stark realities of climate change. But high up in those Norwegian mountains, with her ear to the wind, AURORA hears it all and is ready to lead.

Forget Princess Mononoke, AURORA is our modern day pop royalty.

Infections of A Different Kind is out now on Decca Records.

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #ioadk

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sprnklersplashes · 6 years ago

Text

I Can Be Your Hero (6/?)

Or... Captain Swan Supergirl AU.

AO3

The DEO’s training area was a large circular room with a white floor and walls that looked like they were made of steel. Bright white lights came on once Emma and her trainer, a tall, pretty brunette named Ruby, entered. The ceiling seemed to go on forever; when Emma looked up, she was just met with a bright white light that made her squint. The room was cold too, just enough to make the hairs on Emma’s arms prick up.

Ruby took off her jacket, revealing a red crop to with a toned set of abs, and flicked her dark ponytail over her shoulder. Emma’s tongue darted to the corner of her mouth at the sight. She remained in her Swan costume, deciding it was better for everyone involved if she trained in the same gear she fought in. Emma took a few quick test jumps to get ready. The DEO had made some modifications to the suit, all while Anna protested in the background. The material Anna had used was replaced by something stronger, far more resistant to tearing, fire and bullets. It was also designed to keep her from overheating in a fight and the boots were given some modifications; built in shin guards and new soles, not unlike a pair of sneakers. A really high-tech pair of sneakers. Made for battling aliens in the middle of the desert.

It was also, according to Mal, stain resistant. Which was a nice, if unusual, addition.

“Okay,” Ruby breathed, striding towards Emma. “Let’s start with some warm ups. Come at me.”

“Do we really need to do this?” Emma asked. “I told Elsa and Ingrid, I’m basically indestructible.”

“Maybe, but that won’t win you the fight,” Ruby said, flicking her hair out of her eyes and crouching low. “You need skill as well as strength. Technique. Now come at me.” Emma rolled her eyes slightly but did as instructed; she came at Ruby with full force, a small voice in the back of her mind telling her to slow down or she’d knock the poor girl over, but hey, that was what Ruby signed up for by agreeing to train her.

What actually happened was Ruby caught Emma in the stomach with one arm and grabbed Emma’s wrist with the other. Before Emma could even gasp, she was hurled over Ruby’s arm and landed with a painfully loud whack on the floor, leaving her winded and her head spinning.

“When Ingrid first joined she spent twelve hours a day in here for five months,” Ruby informed her, reaching down to help her up. Not that she needed the help, but it was nice. “If anything, it’s standard procedure. Not because I think you’re weak.” Ruby studied her as she regained her balance. “Although, your technique does need a bit of refining.”

“Oh?” Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Your stance is too open,” Ruby explained with a grin. “Leaves you vulnerable to all sorts of attacks. And you think with your muscles.”

“Okay,” Emma said, thinking it over. “Come at me this time.”

“You sure?” Ruby asked. Emma nodded, holding her left arm across her chest. When Ruby swung at her, she blocked it, swung her around and made to kick her down. Until Ruby hooked her ankle around hers and in a split second, Emma felt herself once again colliding with the ground. “Basic rule of hand to hand combat, cover all your weak points. By just focussing on my arms, you left your lower body completely open.”

“First rule of fight club?” Emma asked dryly, getting up herself this time. Ruby at least chuckled at that.

“Here’s a good first rule,” she said. “Think of the people you’re protecting.”

“The whole city?” Emma responded. “I do. It’s a big ask.”

“Not them,” Ruby answered. “I mean yes, think about them, but think about the people who’d be hurt if something happened to you. The ones who wait up for you at home with one eye on the phone.” There was something in Ruby’s expression, a pain behind her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek, her shoulders straightening as she took in a deep breath.

“Sounds like you’re a little too familiar with this,” Emma said sympathetically.

“I’ve worked here for three years,” she said. She toyed with a red streak in her hair, apparently reading Emma’s face, seeing the question she was too shy to ask. “My grandmother. I’ve lived with her all my life. She’s the one waiting for me.” Another deep breath, a tug on the red streak, a set of her jaw. “And my girlfriend. Dorothy.”

“Oh,” was all Emma could say.

“Yeah um…. Bisexual,” Ruby said, pointing at herself, eyes on the floor. Emma smiles despite the tension in the air. If anyone can relate to this, it’s her. Awkwardly explaining to Ingrid that she’s bringing a girl to the dance even though six months ago she had a not so subtle crush on her maths tutor. Working up the courage to say it to Graham. Whispering it to Elsa in their shared bedroom.

“Me too,” she said, holding out a fist. With an amused, and shocked, smile, Ruby pumps her fist against hers. “Round three?”

“As many rounds as it takes,” Ruby said, getting into position again. “Remember, keep yourself guarded.” Emma swings another punch at her. Sometimes she could keep defending herself, sometimes she could even nearly get Ruby down, but every time Ruby had her back on the ground.

Until nearly four hours later, when the training and tips lock in her mind and she had Ruby on the floor, on her stomach, Emma’s foot on her back.

“Not bad, Swan,” Ruby panted, and Emma couldn’t help but feel proud.

*****

Almost every single day since she started working at West Co Emma hadn’t used the cafeteria. She had nothing against it; certainly not Elsa’s rants about how many calories were in a single bread roll. As far as she was concerned, calories were irrelevant. She could always burn them off doing laps of the city skyline. And it’s not like it tasted bad either; those chemicals and e-numbers her sister hated so much gave the food just a special something, a kind of magic that could only be captured in that white walled, brightly lit world of the cafeteria. What she was against was paying $10 for a sandwich. She didn’t have that kind of money. Well, she did, but the price was so ludicrous she wasn’t paying on a point of principle. She also preferred eating at her desk, shifting through files and sending emails and talking to Graham than searching for a table down there.

However, she happened to oversleep after a particularly rough training session with Ruby, she was lucky her super strength prevented bruising, which led to her rushing out the door, both skipping breakfast and leaving her pasta she made the night before in the fridge,

Which was how she ended up sitting at the one nearly empty table in the cafeteria, Will from accounts was there but he was hunched over his book, giving her nothing more than a nod, and she could enjoy her admittedly great chicken and fries in peace and have a mental argument with herself about why she shouldn’t be getting food from the cafeteria every damn day.

“Ahoy there,” Killian Jones greeted. She looked up to see the photographer with a small smile on his face, clutching a try with a salad, bread roll and carton of milk balanced on it, fingers tapping away at the bottom. “May I sit? Everywhere else is fairly full.”

“Of course,” she said, waving to the seat opposite her. He sat beside the one opposite her. She tried not to take it personally. It wasn’t her, it was him being a gentleman. So, she turned back and tried to lose herself in her Instagram feed. And yet she found herself glancing out of the corner of her eye at him.

And then she saw him pour the milk into a plastic cup and drink it as if it was water.

“Seriously?” she asked before she could stop herself. He looked up at her in surprise, surprised that she was speaking to him, or that she was speaking to him about his drinking habits. “You’re one of those people?”

“Those people?” he echoed.

“Those weirdos who drink milk on its own,” she said, gesturing to the cup on his tray. He frowned, looking from the cup to her and her look of disgust.

“Maybe it’s a cultural difference,” he offered. “Maybe what is strange to you Americans is perfectly acceptable to us Englishmen.”

“Nope, you’re just weird,” Will replied, not taking his eyes off his book. Emma and Killian exchanged an awkward look, their face almost identical; eyebrows raised and biting their lips to keep from laughing.

“Well, okay,” he breathed. “Although to be fair, I’m not technically English. My mother was Irish.”

“Oh, that kind of makes sense. Irish people do all kinds of weird stuff,” Emma said, popping another fry into her mouth.

“See, you judge me for my consumption habits, and yet your meal of choice looks like a heart attack on a plate,” he pointed out.

“Oh, bite me,” she said flatly. “I’d have to eat at least five of these in a row before being in danger of a heart attack. Just so you know.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“Googled it to prove a point to my sister,” she replied, taking a look at his chicken salad. “You’d like her. She eats rabbit food too.”

“I don’t eat ‘rabbit food’,” he said. “I’m just a healthy eater.”

“Is it because you’re Irish?” Emma giggled.

“I actually think it is,” he answered. He set his jaw, his fingers drumming on the table. “My mum was always one for maximum veggies and minimal chocolate. Suppose it came with the territory. But…” He held up a plastic-wrapped cookie that had sat on his tray. “I suppose I do have a sweet tooth.”

“My mom, Ingrid, was like that growing up,” Emma said, choosing her words carefully. She loved Ingrid with her heart and soul, but still struggled referring to her as “mom”. “Ingrid” worked just fine for the both of them. “She kept the rule about no candy on the weekends, no leaving the table until we finished all the greens. She didn’t know about the hidden candy bars in the floorboards in my room.”

He laughed, and Emma noticed how gorgeous his laugh was. Full, but also light and musical.

She adjusted her glasses slightly.

“So, you were a little rebel back in the day, Snow?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, one arm over the back seat.

“Oh, completely,” she deadpanned. “I was the trouble maker of the litter picking team.”

“You did not do litter picking as a child,” he said. Emma raised an eyebrow. “Aw, that’s cute.”

“I’d love to see what you were like as a kid,” she said. “Let me guess, the brooding loner with an affection for leather jackets and a penchant for rule breaking?” She finished off her statement by gesturing to his black leather jacket worn over his white shirt. That jacket, with the messy black hair and chain around his neck, did give him a bad of a bad boy vibe.

“Half right,” he said. “Loner, yes. Bad boy, no. I was the pinnacle of a law-abiding citizen. I was in the church choir and everything.”

“That’s adorable,” she teased. “Bet you were the most angelic voice in the choir.”

“Well, that’s what my nan said, and who am I to argue with my nan?” he asked while unwrapping the cookie. He broke it in half and handed the bigger half over to Emma.

“I can’t,” she protested, shaking her head.

“Yes, you can.” He placed it on her tray. “It’s your reward.” He huffed a laugh when she raised her eyebrows. “You got my child-self half right, you get half a cookie.”

“So, if I got the whole thing right, I’d have got the whole cookie?”

“Perhaps,” he said with a wink. The wink sent a shiver down her back, a pink blush creeping across her face that was identical to his.

Suddenly, a tremendous shake ran through the room, causing framed certificates off the walls, tables to nearly fall over, cracking a few windows, overhead lights to swing. It dragged on and did not show signs of slowing down, long enough for windows to shatter, one of the chords holding the overhead lights to snap and leave it swinging dangerously above their heads. The shock from the unexpected and vigorous movement had Emma’s head spinning and she felt as though her stomach was going to drop out from under her. Emma and Killian looked at each other, his mouth hanging open, her jaw clenched, both their eyes wide. Out of instinct, he grabbed her arm to steady her as a second shock went through the room. When she looked up, she saw cracks beginning to form in the ceiling. The whole roof would cave in if this didn’t stop.

She and Killian ran out of the cafeteria, swept up in the sea of people hurrying through the doors despite urges from security guards not to panic, that this had a normal explanation…

Yeah, right.

Killian and Emma stopped dead in their tracks when they passed the window and saw what the cause of the quake was. On the road outside West Co., blocking the traffic, there was a single man, dressed in an all-black ensemble, tight black trousers and shirt, but the flowing cape gave it away the most. He looked like he had stepped out of an anime that was Anna’s guilty pleasure. From there, Emma couldn’t see what he was holding, but he clapped his hands and another quake set the building shaking.

“Snow, come on,” Killian said, pulling her to away from the window and in the direction of the emergency exit. They could only just see the glow of the EXIT sign above the door with the sea of people filling the hallway.

It was a no-brainer, really. Emma looked at Killian, his attention entirely focussed on the crowd; his eyes wide and teeth clenched as he took quick, deep breaths. She slipped her hand out of his and crept away from the crowd and around the corner.

“Emma?” she heard his panicked voice call. “Emma?!” A pang of guilt hit her chest, as well as a fluttering in her stomach.

Still, Killian could wait. Right now, he, and the rest of the city, needed the Swan.

******

The Swan planted herself down on the road, mere feet from this new villain. Up close, she could see he was around her age, dark hair, dark stubble and a glint of insanity in his eyes. A wicked smirk flashed across his face at the sight of her.

“The Swan,” he laughed. “Well, I guess they are sending in their finest.”

“No one sends me anywhere,” she responded. “Now how about you put away your shiny new toys and we can forget this ever happened?” He laughed, but it was devoid of humour. Just a hollow, empty sound.

“I could do that,” he said. “Or I could do this.” He clapped his gloved hands and send another earthquake to shake the ground. Emma put all her focus into staying upright, her eyes darting to the shaking building of West Co. and then to the cars in front of and behind her, hearing the fearful screams of their owners. She could only imagine what it would be like inside and her gut churned.

“Nice gloves. Guessing you didn’t pick them up at the mall?” she asked, stepping closer again. He clenched his fist and she saw that the gloves must have been made of black metal, red lines surrounding the base of each finger. “Mind telling me who hooked you up with them?”

“Not today, Swan,” he said, moving to clap again.

Emma sent a stream of cold air from her mouth, aiming at his hands, trapping them, then going for his feet. When she stopped, she saw the string of ice she had made along his chest by mistake, frost along his collar bone, and how his feet were linked together by a thick strip of ice. Well, nobody’s perfect, but the job was done. His hands, and more importantly, the gloves, were encased in two ice cubes, and he had no way of fleeing.

“Oh, that’s cute,” he remarked bitterly.

“Now you can tell me who got you those?” she asked. “Or why you’re wearing a cape?”

“You’re wearing a cape,” he pointed out. She shrugged it off and kept staring at him, watching as his face changed; the narrowed eyes growing wider, mouth opening as he started gasping rapidly, his body tensing quickly. “God that’s cold.”

“And it’ll get colder,” she said. “So why don’t we make a deal. You tell me what I want to know, and I’ll melt those ice blocks a little.” He paused, thinking about her offer, all the time his body grew more tense and his gasps grew shorter in length and higher in pitch.

“Deal,” he panted. “I got them from some lady selling them near my place.”

“She was just selling alien gadgets off a street corner?” Emma scoffed.

“I live in Petersland,” he said. “Ever been there? You with your superpowers? Think they’ve ever been there in their silver Mercedes and high-up jobs? It’s a dump. Houses get set fire every other week and no one bothers to clean it up. Kids live on school dinners and adults live on cigarettes and stale bread. So yeah, lady comes up and starts selling new gadgets, I’ll check it out.”

“What did she look like?” Emma asked.

“I didn’t take a picture. Dark hair, dark eyes, kind of small, really pretty?”

“Did she tell you how they worked?”

“Yep. She told me that all I needed to do was c-clap my hands and I’d level a city block.”

“Okay,” Emma said. “Don’t say I never keep my word.” She shot her laser to his left foot and applied enough heat for the ice to begin melting on its own. She knew from experience that if she tried to melt it on her own she ran the risk of zapping him and she wasn’t spiteful enough to do that.

No matter how much it tempted her.

“Anything else I should know?” she asked as police showed up behind him. And of course, the black van of the DEO. “Think about your answer carefully or you could be getting hauled off to prison in a set of pre-prepared ice-cuffs.”

“She said… She said that she wanted to see me face off against you,” he said. “Wanted me to draw you out.”

“Me?” Emma asked. “Why?”

“Just the messenger, hon,” he said, a smirk flickering across his pale face.

Screw it, Emma thought. A laser to the foot was a worthy punishment for that comment.

The police began filing out of their cars, guns raised, and Mal jumped out from the DEO van, Ruby at her side. They casually strolled to the police, flashed a badge, and dodged around them to Emma and their soon-to-be newest prisoner. While Mal’s face remained stony, Ruby was smiling and slipped in a cheeky wink at Emma.

“Nice work,” she mouthed.

“Thank you, Swan,” Mal said. “We’ll take it from here.”

“No,” Emma protested. “I need to talk to him.” Mal frowned, turning from him to Emma. Emma took a step closer, pushed her hair behind her shoulder and lowered her voice. “He wasn’t working alone. He said someone sent him. And that someone wanted him to find me.”

“Come by when you can,” Mal whispered. “He’s under our jurisdiction now.”

Emma stood back and watched as he was loaded into the back of the DEO’s van and the van took off, getting smaller and smaller until it was out of sight entirely. The police climbed back into their cars, some casting her dirty looks, some smiling. Camera flashes went off around her. Ambulance sirens wailed in the distance.

Two things stuck in Emma’s mind from that encounter. The first was his message for Emma; someone wanted her to come out, to fight. To test her? To try to hurt her. She guessed all she could do was hope that he had answers and was willing to give them up.

The second was what he had said about his life. She had to admit that he had a point. Even on her own planet, which she had considered a paradise, there had been people living in the streets, but when her parents were in charge they cared. They tried to help. People weren’t as fortunate on this planet. The government was rarely competent at protecting its people, especially those who didn’t have enough money to matter.

Emma was back in the West Co. building before anyone could even notice she had been missing.

Almost anyone.

“Emma!” Killian exclaimed, eyes wide when he saw her through the crowd of West Co. employees who were scurrying back to their offices, some eager to start jotting down their notes, some desperate to call home. Killian ran up to her, stopping at the last minute, pulling his arms back. “What happened to you? I just turned around and you were gone!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I needed to call my sister,” she lied. “I had to let her know I was okay.” He nodded, but his eyes were still bright with panic. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, forcing a smile. “You’re safe now and that’s all that matters.” His smile didn’t quite meet his eyes though. His hand reached out and pulled her lopsided sweater up onto her shoulder. Seemed she wasn’t as quick changing as she thought.

“I should go to Miss West,” Emma said. “She’ll be going insane up there.”

“I should grab my camera,” he replied. “Get the best shots in before anyone else.”

She turned to go, adjusting her glasses as she ran off down the hall, still feeling his eyes on her.

******

Emma ended up spending her night at the DEO, instead of her plans to send a few emails, take some Buzzfeed quizzes and watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine all while tucking into an overflowing bowl of pasta. She was leaning against the wall, watching their newest inmate, now ice free but his hands cuffed behind his back, sitting on a chair and scowling at Mal, giving her what looked like one-word answers, but she couldn’t hear through the one-way glass.

“Nice work out there today,” Ruby said as she approached, her hair pulled back into a bun, red streak neatly hidden away, wearing a tight black jacket and trousers, carrying a brown cardboard wallet. She looked different, un-Ruby like. If it weren’t for the slightly winged eyeliner, the grin and the spark in her eye, Emma didn’t think she’d have recognised her.

“Thanks,” she said, looking back to the interrogation. “Any info on who this guy is.”

“A Mr Nick Branson,” Ruby answered, opening the file. “Grew up in Petersland, had trouble in school shoplifted, ran into trouble with the police a few times. Kept a pretty low profile for the past ten years, worked in a drive through Starbucks.”

“How does a barista get his hands on tech like that?” Emma asked. Ruby shook her head and leaned against the wall, mirroring Emma. On the other side of the glass, Mal stood up and left Nick alone in the room, coming out to meet Emma.

“I’ve talked as much as I can to him. He doesn’t seem to be cracking. You’re welcome to try,” she offered. Emma gave her no more than a nod before going into the interrogation room and seating herself opposite him.

“Hi, Nick,” she greeted. He offered a raised eyebrow in response. “Okay I’m new at this so let’s just cut to the chase; who gave you the weapons?”

“And I already told you. Pretty lady was hanging around my neighbourhood selling stuff,” he responded. Emma decided to go old school, dig out a superpower she had had long before coming to Earth. Not laser eyes or strength or flying; her lie detector. Even back on Storybrooke she had been able to tell when someone was telling her a lie when she looked hard. Her parents and later on, Ingrid thought it impressive, others thought it spooky. Still, it was 99% effective, so it was worth a try.

And it told her Nick wasn’t lying. He had no idea who this woman was.

“Did she say why she wanted to fight me?” she asked. Another head shake, eyes on the floor. Again, the truth. “Okay,” she breathed.

She left the room with no more answers than she entered with.

“He’s in the dark,” she told Mal. “He doesn’t know who gave him those weapons or what she wants with me.” Mal nodded, her red lips pressed into a thin line.

“Come here,” she said, leading Emma away from the interrogation room, down a corridor and into another room with steel walls and a grey table. The gloves Nick had used sat on the table. “Do you recognise them.”

“Sure, I’ve seen a few planets with them,” Emma replied. “Approaching the table. “Some planets used them for war weapons, others to try to alter their eco systems.” She studied the gloves, looking for some familiarity, fingers tracing over the cold metal and into the ridges.

She found it. She found familiarity in the symbol on the back, no bigger than the palm of her own hand. The same symbol that she was wearing on her chest.

Her family’s coat of arms.

She wanted to throw up.

“Emma?” Ruby asked, noticing how tense she had suddenly become. “Emma are you okay?”

Her family, her planet, didn’t export weapons on an intergalactic level. They were only traded around Storybrooke itself. Meaning that this weapon can’t have come from any planet other than her home.

“This weapon,” she said, her voice hoarse. “It’s from Storybrooke.”

******

Emma needed a donut. It may have seemed trivial after her realisation at the DEO that had cut right into her, but she was a comfort eater, and the sugar would provide some distraction for her if nothing else.

So, on her drive home, back in Emma-wear, she swung by the store a block from her place. Open 24 hours a day, it was convenient when she needed to grab bread or milk or some random household necessity. It was a god damn heaven send when she needed a sugar fix.

Elsa didn’t need know about the times she’s driven down at 11:30pm for a pastry.

She strolled into the near empty store; the only occupants seemed to be schoolkids coming back from a party and the clerks who looked vaguely zombie-like behind the counter. She gave a wave to one blonde clerk with whom she’d become slightly familiar with on her regular sugar runs and made her way to the bakery at the back of the store, where an array of baked treats was waiting for her. She poured over the selection before choosing the chocolate filled donut covered in white icing, a long-time favourite.

When she turned to go to the counter, she saw a familiar face sitting in the coffee shop, just a few feet from where she was standing. Killian Jones was reclining in one of the leather armchairs, cardboard cup of coffee in hand, in an easy conversation with someone she had never seen before; a tall woman with wavy dark hair with a denim jacket draped over the back of her seat and had a red and black backpack at her feet. Even from there, Emma could tell how pretty the woman was. And how she seemed to hang on to Killian’s every word, and vice versa.

She didn’t know why her face suddenly grew very warm. It wasn’t as though she had caught her boyfriend cheating on her. Killian wasn’t her anything. So logically, the sight of him laughing at something a good-looking woman had said shouldn’t cause her to feel anything at all.

And yet….

He noticed her when he took a glance up, acknowledged her with a wave, eyes lighting up. She gave a stiff, awkward wave back in reply. The other woman turned and looked at her. Not rudely, not coldly, she had a small, pleasant smile on her face, and she turned and asked Killian something. He nodded before getting up and coming over to her.

“Late night snack, Snow?” he asked.

“Could ask you the same thing,” she replied. “If coffee really a good idea at this time?”

“Probably not,” he admitted. “But you know, night out, nothing brings it to an end like a coffee.” Emma nodded, her eyes moving to Killian’s companion, who was checking something on her phone. Killian followed her line of sight.

“Yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Milah. Old friend of mine. Ran into each other, completely by chance, I didn’t even know she was in town. So we met up, went to that little Italian restaurant near work.”

“Sounds nice,” Emma said. In her mind, she began working through the obvious signs. Killian was dressed significantly smarter than usual; a black suit jacket over his blue shirt, discarding his usual leather, top button undone, Milah was wearing a tight grey top that complimented her figure wonderfully, and they went to an Italian restaurant.

He was on a date.

And she didn’t care. Why would she care?

“Care to join us?” he asked.

“I can’t, I’ve got to get home, there’s some stuff I need to get done for Zelena. But… see you at work,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Enjoy your night.”

“Aye, you too, Snow,” he said, his face falling slightly. She didn’t want to fool herself, but she would have sworn he looked disappointed.

In the car, she took a generous bite out of her donut and rested her head on the steering wheel, letting out a long sigh before driving home.

*******

Above Earth, sitting just out of the range of Earth satellites, Regina looked down at the planet below her, sneering. She turned her attention to the screen on her wall; a wave of her hand brought it to life. The Swan-the name she chose to go by-freezing Mr Branson, stopping him from using the present she had given him. Another wave and the image changed to her facing off with Fiona, or rather, the Black Fairy, electricity coursing through her body, freezing Fiona. Even the footage of her first little adventure, holding that crumbling building up.

“Oh, little Emmarae,” she sighed. “You are a real hero, aren’t you?” She reclined back in her chair. “Let’s see how you do next time.”

#captain swan #cs ff #ouat ff #emma swan #killian jones #fic: i can be your hero #ouat

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plasmamuffin-blog · 8 years ago

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The Lord of the Rings review: Part 1

So first off, this review is mainly about the lord of the rings book, although i will be doing some things in different orders. I am partly making fun of the plot, and partly making fun of the way it's written, and additionally, this is not meant to show disrespect for LOTR or it's fans, just as a fun thing, and while i do like LOTR and think it's cool, i do have some things to complain about.

Without further ado, the review:

The Lord of the Rings. One of the most popular and respected works of fantasy fiction in the world. And yet, the most boring book to read since the unabridged Oxford English Dictionary. What makes LOTR so popular, and what makes it so boring despite such critical acclaim? Let's find out.

The story begins with a riveting 40 pages detailing a party that has little to no significance to the actual plot. During this time, we learn that this part of the story takes part in a place called the shire, a peaceful farming land with rolling green hills and inhabited by hobbits(rumor has it that tolkien originally called them "fat midgets" but changed this as it wasn't culturally sensitive enough). Soon(a mere 36 years or so) after the party, the main character, frodo, finds that bilbo's ring, which he had passed on to frodo, was in fact the most dangerous magical artifact since the stainless steel cheese grater. It also happens to be the only thing capable of bringing the antagonist to full power. Yes, this humble ring is in fact the Legendary One Ring, created by the most hated and feared enemy of the people of middle-earth, and whose name inspired the title of the book: The Dark Lord, "Of The".

Wait, no, sorry, his name was actually Sauron. Frodo's generic bearded mentor, gandalf, informs him that the only solution is to destroy The Mcguffin Ring by throwing it into the Fires Of Mount Doom in which it was forged(created). Armed with this knowledge, and his faithful minion friend and gardener, sam(and his cousins, mary merry and pippin) our humble young hobbit sets out on an epic journey to destroy the ring.

100 short pages later, something actually relevant to the plot happens, garnished throughout with important events such as the finding of mushrooms(you had to be there, these mushrooms were really good), the appearance of a disturbingly cheery weirdo freak person named tom bombadil, and a chase scene wherein four midgets hobbits used to a comfortable life of eating twice their weight in junk food and moving no more than is neccessary for using the bathroom somehow manage to outrun several dark, evil, and anciently powerful creatures riding dark, powerful horses with an apparent max speed of 7.5 MPH. This plot-worthy event occurs in the village of bree, where the four hobbits get drunk and, due to their shrewd intellect and four long seconds of consideration, decide to take on a creepy guy with a sword they just met(they just met him, not the sword) named strider as a companion on literally the most important quest in the world.

While our young hobbits are thus occupied, the old wizard gandalf gets captured by an old friend, saruman, who decided to turn to the dark side because he gets a cool plasma ball as a "Welcome to the club" gift. Gandalf escapes, with the aid of a suspiciously convenient pet bird he purchased from the "help, i'm trapped at the top of a 500 story building" store for the price of one moth(which it is suspected that he stole).

After leaving bree, thomas frodo and his friends make it to weathertop(literally, "Large Rock") where they were supposed to meet gandalf. Gandalf is, of course, absent, so strider, using his strategical skills and a dash of common sense, decides to abandon the hobbits while he goes sightseeing. It is, of course, just what the Dark Riders(known as Ringwraiths) from the last paragraph were waiting for, and they charge in and attack the hobbits using the tried-and true battle technique of Standing Around Looking Intimidating Instead Of Actually Attacking the targets who they could easily overpower armed with nothing more than a saucepan while they wait for the protagonist's backup to arrive. And arrive it does, with strider breaking in at the last second to save the group. One of the more astute ringwraiths surmises that it would likely be a good idea to actually attack the target, and so stabs frodo with a dagger so ancient and powerful it crumbles to dust as soon as it is removed from the wound. While frodo struggles to remember first aid and decides to substitute ancient elven language as a family-friendly replacement for swear words, strider bravely fends off these most Ancient and Powerful enemies using the legendary weapon that is the bane of evil creatures everywhere; that's right, the legendary Fire On A Stick.

After seeing that frodo is unlikely to survive the roughly 700km trek to rivendell(literally, "Convenient Elf City"), the group encounters a Convenient Elf named arwen, who takes frodo to the city on horseback. Arwen and the now unconscious(he spends much of the book like this) frodo are chased by the black riders to the front porch of rivendell, a river, which spontaneously floods as soon as the black riders attempt to cross it.

Frodo awakes safe in rivendell, brought back from the very brink of death through powerful elven healing magic and the fact that he's the protagonist. Gandalf greets him and explains the whole unpleasant "being captured" business, which is quickly followed by roughly 200 pages of boring and pointless exposition mixed with 7 page long songs(which, being in book form, have no set tune, causing readers to have to substitute familiar tunes such as "Yankee Doodle") after which the elves, gandalf, strider(who is fined by the elves after it was discovered he used a fake ID and his real name was in fact aragorn), and a crowd of racially diverse people such as dwarves, humans, and the other hobbits meet together to discuss the ring. The decision, voted on by the group, is that a phenomenally dangerous and evil artifact(e.g the ring) should probably be destroyed. This is agreed to, and after heated discussion of how to accomplish this(some suggest the use of acid, fire, clorox, or exposure to justin bieber CDs), it is mentioned that the ring must be destroyed by throwing it into an active volcano. Unfortunately, mount st. helens had not been invented yet, and so the only volcano on the entire continent is Mount Doom. It is henceforth unanimously agreed upon that the only thing capable of bringing the dark lord sauron back to power is to be brought to within three blocks of his house in an attempt to destroy it. The obvious choice for this mission is the most skilled, talented, and strong among them: The very likely overweight and chronically depressed hobbit whose entire experience in this field is that he's pretty sure he knows how to pronounce "Macguffin".

Before leaving, bilbo, who had moved to rivendell, gives frodo his old sword and a piece of rare "Plot Armor", which is impenetrable to all but the most fourth-wall breaking attacks.

And so, the group sets off, consisting of frodo, sam, merry, pippin, gandalf, aragorn, boromir, an elf named legolas, and a dwarf named gimli with anger issues. Shortly after leaving rivendell, the group is forced to cross a snowy mountain, upon which they realize that none of them brought any warm clothes. It is then decided that they will go through the mines of moria, a gigantic mining city that has evaded the regulations of OSHA for centuries.

After being attacked by Cthulhu outside the mines, gandalf, who forgot the password, contacts technical support and gets it reset, allowing them to enter said mines. It is then revealed that the entire population of the mines was wiped out by orcs(literally "Big Ugly Guys") with the I.Q. of warm salad. Being dwarves, the inhabitants of the mines needed plenty of ceiling room, and thus the mines are way bigger than is strictly neccessary or convenient. after wandering around lost for a while, the group encounters a large group of orcs, who, of course, being mighty and feared warriors, are easily dispatched by the group without them even breaking a sweat.

However, the orcs had broughten(broughted? broughtinated?) a cave troll with them, which managed to stab frodo before being defeated. However, frodo, who the rest of the group had presumed to be dead, is revealed to be absolutely fine due to the shirt of plot armor he is wearing. Despite being extremely important and worth more than the shire itself, this shirt is completely forgotten and never brought up again. After the attack, the group finds they are being pursued by a large and powerful creature called a balrog, which chases them into a structurally ludicrous room the size of north dakota that completely lacks guardrails. Upon being asked what a balrog is, gandalf replies that it is a foe beyond any of them in power, and subsequently decides to challenge it to a 1v1. After picking a spot(specifically, a balance beam over a bottomless pit AKA literally the worst place to fight a balrog in the entire mine), gandalf spleefs the balrog into the pit, but is thrown down into it himself after he wisely decides to stand there and watch instead of running to safety. The rest of the group, heartbroken, then decides to journey to lothlorien(literally, "Rivendell MK2") for refuge, where the elves, having a clear understanding of economics, provide food and shelter free of charge to a group of people they just met.

After receiving these gifts(including a rope for sam and a glowstick for frodo), the group sets off downriver in boats procured(read: basically stolen) from the elves and end up in amon hen, where frodo, showing wisdom beyond his 85 years, wisely decides to wander off by himself, upon which the ring corrupts boromir who subsequently attempts to take it from frodo. The rest of the group, also very skilled in the fine art of strategy, wanders off randomly by themselves as well in order to search for frodo, which causes boromir to have to sacrifice himself to save merry and pippin from the conveniently placed orcs, which end up capturing the two anyway. Upon finding boromir, who, thanks to the orc archers, now resembles a large pincushion, aragorn, legolas, and gimli get to watch him die from his wounds, after which they send him downriver in a boat in a makeshift burial at sea.

Meanwhile, frodo(who becomes wiser every page), attempts to sneak off to mordor on his own, but is caught by sam, who is determined to go with him.

This ends part 1 of the review of the lord of the rings.

#Lord of the Rings #Tolkien #funny #review

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recentanimenews · 8 years ago

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Failed Tanuki and Half-Baked Tengu: Identity and Community in "The Eccentric Family"

Failed Tanuki and Half-Baked Tengu: Identity and Community in The Eccentric Family – Part 1

By Dee Hogan

“Humans live in the city, tanuki crawl the earth, and tengu fly through the air. Since the Heian era relocation, humans, tanuki, and tengu have maintained a delicate balance. That's what keeps the great wheel of this city turning round and round. More fun than anything is watching that wheel spin.”

Right from its opening lines, The Eccentric Family establishes Kyoto as a city inhabited by three groups—tanuki, tengu, and humans—with clearly defined traits and domains. Through first-person narration and character dialog, we're given a general idea of how each group thinks, feels, and acts. The series then proceeds to spend two seasons quietly but systematically tearing those assumptions apart.

As the story progresses, it challenges its characters' strict ideas about identity by depicting a variety of individuals who either can't or won't adhere to the group they belong to, blurring the boundaries both within and between the three spheres so that it becomes less and less clear what it means to be “a tanuki” or “a tengu” or “a human” at all. Through its colorful world and unique individuals, The Eccentric Family asks us what makes us who we say we are—and wonders how we'd find that answer in the first place.

“This Thought Makes a Tengu” - Assumptions and Norms

“If someone were to ask me how tanuki should live their lives, this is how I would answer. The tanuki wriggling about in Kyoto should abandon all lofty ambitions. There's nothing else we have to do besides lead an interesting life.”

Before we can get into how the series handles individual and group identity, it's worth taking some time to establish how its characters (particularly our narrator, Yasaburo) define tanuki, tengu, and humans.

Over the course of the series, tanuki are described as “irredeemable fools,” “peace-loving,” and loyal; “soft and fluffy” tricksters whom Yasaburo believes need do nothing but “lead an interesting life.” In the first season, Shimogamo Souichiro is often described as the tanuki ideal, and the four qualities he split between his sons—his sense of responsibility, easygoing personality, idiocy, and innocence—give us the best idea of how tanuki society as a whole sees itself.

“Tengu have always peered down at the world from the pinnacle of pride. They are great because they are tengu, and tengu because they are great. 'I am the only being of any significance between Heaven and Earth.' This thought makes a tengu.”

Tengu are the most rigidly defined, thanks to Akadama's own rigid sense of self. “To be a tengu is to fly through the sky at will,” he tells us twice in the very first episode. Over the course of the series, we're also told that tengu are ferociously proud, demanding respect simply for existing. According to Yasaburo, “tengu” and “pride” are all but interchangeable.

There's also a rigid power structure between tanuki and tengu, something that becomes especially clear in the second season when Yasaburo (tongue firmly in his cheek, I'd argue) keeps reminding the Nidaime and Benten that tanuki are meant to “work hard” and “respect tengu.” In short, tengu have the raw power to declare themselves the ruling class, and tanuki society has by and large accepted this as truth.

“This is what makes you a human, I guess. You guys are way worse than tengu.”

By contrast, the concept of “what it means to be a human” is never explicitly addressed. Instead, it's implied through how the tanuki talk about humans and how our handful of human characters carry themselves, particularly in the early episodes. In general, humans are defined by their need to consume—to take and eat what they want without a thought for others. They're considered fickle, self-centered, and possessive, “more treacherous and nasty than even tengu or kitsune.” It's a harsh assessment but an unsurprising one, given that our main characters are all tanuki who live in constant fear of the humans' hot pot.

This is how our cast views Kyoto's three groups (cultures? classes? species? The Eccentric Family avoids a strict one-to-one real-world metaphor, so I'm hesitant to use one either), as well as how they define or judge people within those groups. These are the expectations and pressures put on an individual who identifies as a tanuki or tengu or human, and the walls that almost everyone pushes against.

“A Failure of a Tanuki” - Expectations and Limitations

“Our mother doesn't believe for one minute that her children are notorious losers in tanuki society. She has no doubt that every last one of us kids are fit to follow in the footsteps of our deceased dad.”

How each character identifies strongly influences their behavior, as they seek to live up to the idea(l)s about what their group is “supposed” to be—or, more often than not, seek to reconcile group expectations with personal reality.

Akadama is the most clear-cut example, as he's in the midst of an “identity crisis” after he hurts his back and can no longer fly or whip up whirlwinds. If “to be a tengu is to fly through the sky at will,” as he's always insisted, then can he truly still call himself a tengu? Yasaburo tries to reassure him, but this insecurity eats away at Akadama, particularly in the first season, causing him to act haughtier than he feels, isolate himself from others, and force everyone to acknowledge “the terror he represents.”

The rift between personal identity and personal behavior plagues the Shimogamo brothers through much of the first season as well. Ridiculed by the rest of the Kyoto tanuki as “idiots who failed to inherit their magnificent father's blood,” there's immense pressure on all of them to live up to the Tanuki Ideal (as embodied by their dad). None of them can, and those supposed shortcomings—and the thought that they've somehow “failed” at being tanuki because they don't perfectly match society's definition of what tanuki are—affects them all in different ways.

Eldest brother Yaichiro spends most of the series a high-strung, anxious mess, desperate to preserve the family name and earn the respect of tanuki society. Protagonist Yasaburo rebels, declaring that “tanuki societal norms can eat dirt” and largely avoiding the tanuki outside of his immediate family. Little Yashiro frets about his poor transformation skills and hides behind his brothers. And poor Yajiro, in love with his brother's fiancee and blaming himself for his father's death, declares himself “an absolute failure of a tanuki” and decides to “lock everything up and become a frog in a well,” giving up his tanuki identity altogether.

The Shimogamo brothers don't perfectly meet the standards of “what it means to be a tanuki,” and so they wonder if they're allowed to claim that identity at all—or, if they do claim it, if they're forced to consider themselves “failures” or “losers” because they can't live up to an idealized stereotype. Like Akadama, reeling from the loss of what supposedly makes him a tengu, the Shimogamo brothers find that the people they are don't match society's image of tanuki, leading to identity crises of their own.

“A Bunch of Weirdos” - Individuality and Acceptance

“To hell with tradition! To hell with the future of the tanuki world! To hell with the Trick Magister! I am Yaichiro, the eldest son of Shimogamo Souichiro! I am the pathetic son who didn't inherit all of the magnificent blood of his father!”

Happily, over the course of the series, the brothers come to care less about some grand tanuki ideal and learn to accept their personal identities and strengths, thanks in large part to the love and support of their family.

Yashiro still struggles to hold his transformation, but he gains confidence through his ability to produce electricity and his passion for inventions. Yajiro slowly regains his transformation abilities and returns to tanuki society, eventually identifying as “a tanuki, not a frog” again. Yaichiro finally stops judging himself based on the standards of a bunch of relative strangers (who won't lift a finger to help his captured brother). He's able to act without reservation for once, taking the initiative to save Yasaburo from the Friday Club.

As for Yasaburo, his arc is... complicated, largely because he bounces so merrily between the tanuki, tengu, and human spheres. While his brothers are trying to figure out if they can be a part of tanuki society even if they don't perfectly match the ideal image of a tanuki, Yasaburo is pushing back against the rules and boundaries themselves.

“I'm what you'd call a tanuki, but too proud to be a mere tanuki, I admire tengu from afar and love imitating humans. For that reason, my daily life is so dizzyingly busy, there's no time to be bored.”

Like the human/tengu Benten, Yasaburo mingles freely with the three spheres, and (also like Benten?) he isn't fully satisfied with the role bestowed upon him at birth as a “mere” tanuki (although he does refer to himself as exactly that three times during the second season, so his perspective may be changing). Unwilling to just “crawl the earth,” he spends a lot of his time befriending, meddling with, and fooling tengu and humans alike.

Unlike Benten, though, Yasaburo has a fairly firm sense of self—he sees himself as a tanuki, is (mostly) aware of both his strengths and limitations, and does his best to work within those boundaries even as he pushes against the rules of tanuki society at large. Sometimes this leads to quietly sad moments of understanding, like when he realizes he's not the one Benten needs when she's at her lowest point. But just as often it leads to triumph, like when he uses his wits and transformation skills to blend in and eventually find an escape route from Hell.

There's no one way to live as a tanuki; no perfect set of behaviors. Even Souichiro, our “magnificent tanuki,” broke the rules and suffered a fall, something that Yasaburo comes to terms with when he calls his dad an “awful tanuki” because “you went off on your own, picked fights with tengu, made an enemy of Soun, and then left your family behind and ended up in a tanuki hot pot.”

Yasaburo can thumb his nose at tanuki societal norms and still be a tanuki. He can also accept certain aspects of being a tanuki—like one day getting married—without giving up his freedom or his “interesting life.” He can be himself and a part of the Shimogamo tanuki clan.

Akadama and the Shimogamo brothers all struggle with their personal identity because of group expectations and standards, fighting a constant battle between “who I am,” “who I want to be,” and “who I'm expected to be.” With the support and love of the family (both biological and adopted) around them, they all slowly come to accept the people they are and become less concerned with how their social groups might view them. By the end of the second season they're all in more secure, confident places, and are happier for it.

But The Eccentric Family isn't content to simply point out the (somewhat obvious) fact that rigid group standards can hurt individuals. Instead, it wants to go a step further and suggest those definitions are meaningless in the first place. In the upcoming second half of our two-part trip through this fantastical Kyoto, we'll talk about the characters who defy their groups or deny them outright—murderous tanuki, altruistic humans, whimsical half-tengu and proud not-tengu—and how our cast causes the boundaries between the three spheres blur, mix, and sometimes collapse altogether.

To be continued...

About the author, Dee Hogan

Dee is a nerd of all trades and a master of one. She has bachelor’s degrees in English and East Asian studies and an MFA in Creative Writing. To pay the bills, she works as a technical writer. To not pay the bills, she devours novels and comics, watches far too much anime, and cheers very loudly for the Kansas Jayhawks. You can hang out with her at The Josei Next Door, a friendly neighborhood anime blog for long-time fans and newbies alike, as well as on Tumblr and Twitter.

The Eccentric Family is available now for viewing on Crunchyroll!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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ravynnyteshade-blog · 5 years ago

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To Set the Record Straight: Hallowe'en 🎃

💭🙅🕵 To Set The Record Straight 🕵🙅💭

And in todays TSRS Blog, your beloved, Truly, will discuss the societal implications of Hallowe'en, its true origins, and the actual weirdos in the night to watch out for...

And now its time to Set The Record Straight

💯💯💯💯✨✨💯💯💯💯

Blesséd Samhain for my people in Spirit... And a wonderful All Hallow's Eve to the rest!

First a little to discuss regarding our very sensitive "Holiday" (depending on your culture)... Trick or treating has been a wonderful tradition in our belovéd country for over 80 years. In other customs and traditions, there is a suggestion of similar practices.

[Its interesting to note that in an article I read once, it was actually referred to as a ritual practice. For those of you whose modern sensibilities have the tolerance of a bull in a china shop, don't worry... We'll get to that later...]

Traditions across the world show customs of going door to door and collecting gifts on All Hallows Eve.

Let me give you my somewhat objective, Priestly viewpoint on this. All Hallows Eve is a Spiritual night in many traditions. It is described as when the veil between the worlds of the Spiritual and the worlds of the Physical is at a lower vibrational energy pattern. (This could actually be explained in Physics for anyone not afraid to crack a book 📖)

Now, when this happens, there are some Spiritual beings that can manifest in the physical world during this time. Many customs have shown covering mirrors with a black veil, and many more "protections"...including our beloved ritual of collecting chocolates and treats on October 31st. On or around this date, the Sun's angle to the constellation Libra is exactly center aligned...Libra is said to be the Energy of Balance of All Things, even a Balance of Spirit and Physical. Some of our ancestors would decorate their homes with sacred, blessed, protective adornments... [some are downright mean looking...not because their users were evil...the monster was meant to scare away would be Spirits who were up to no good...sigh, I digress]. These decorations sent two important messages: "GO AWAY" or "You Are Welcome To Partake Gifts IF you go away"... Nowadays we have Hallowe'en decorations...typically to indicate what? I'll wait...

Rest assured, the only people celebrating this so-called "devils" day by harming people or doing so-called satan worship, are crazy af [why, yes that's a texhnical term 🤔], evil af, and/or in no way spiritually in tune with ANYTHING benevolent. They're also typically involved in a cult, and could suffer from any number of mental instabilities. #IJS

Since there are SOME psychos out there, best to include a word to the wise

⚠ Remember to be safe ⚠

⚠ 1.) Check your childrens' candy before letting them eat it. If anything has been opened or tampered with, has any holes, or otherwise doesn't look like it just came out of a bag at walmart... REJECT IT 👎 ✖❌❎🚱⛔

⚠ 2.) Best not to allow your children go unnacompanied. Let's be honest, most children don't have the best judgement

⚠ 3.) DO NOT approach a house that is not well-lit or otherwise unwelcoming! It's best if you target local businesses and houses in WELL-LIT neighborhoods with plenty of decorations. If it's not inviting, you're not invited.

⚠ 4.) Stick to the curfew! It's there for a reason. 🌞

Now, back to the soap box. The word ritual is defined as :

a noun:

noun: ritual; plural noun: rituals

1.) a religious or solemn ceremony consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order.

"the role of 'ritual in religion'" [Emphasis marks Added: I love how that says the "role of ritual in religion" and not "the role of religion in ritual"... It speaks to my point]

Continuing...

2.) the prescribed order of performing a ceremony, especially one characteristic of a particular religion or church

3.) a series of actions or type of behavior regularly and invariably followed by someone. [😳 Even brushing your teeth!!!]

as an adjective:

4.) relating to or done as a religious or solemn rite.

"ritual burial"

5.) (of an action) arising from convention or habit.

"the players gathered for the ritual pregame huddle"

From www.reference.dictionary.com

The Defense Rests... 🕵

Enjoy your Halloween, and stop bashing people who connect their Spirit to the positive things with such an energetic evening! Be Safe and have fun!!!

And as always... Thanks for tuning in to

💭🙅🕵 To Set The Record Straight 🕵🙅💭

Your belovéd host, slash author here bids you Adieu

~Ravyn 🦅

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artofaboythatoncewas · 6 years ago

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Cars 3

Libra: Acura NSX. Immortalize me in stone for all I care: it won't matter when I'm six feet under. «Libi, you’re too old for your age to have the pessimistic thoughts of a teenager. You’ve been far more disappointed than them to come to those conclusions!» Agh, I know, I know, but the thought of impermanence just gets to you once in a while. I wish I could’ve been one of those weirdos who takes a picture of themselves every morning for every day to document their ageing in such a way that’s shockingly dreadful after a couple hundred photos. The concussion I had when I was a teenager didn’t turn me into one of those savants who could remember the exact details of each day of their life… Eh, what else? Oh, I’ve only cataloged any excitement in my life within the suffocating walls of the library: There’s memoirs of my experiences behind my desk, and you gotta be a special someone to have access to them while I’m still alive. «Libi, all you put in there is corny jokes and write-ups about exact status of each book; believe me, it’s not exciting.» [,] Pfft, it’s the same with all of you; that attitude is just fueling my boredom! Thus, making me want to catalog even more. Be lucky I’m not tossing another book at you. «Yeah, I still have the scar from last april when a hardcover copy of Catcher and the Rye hit my lower back.» Hey, I thought it wouldn’t hurt that much, because I got a dozen of the things in all the various editions, releases, repackagings, and promotions. I was confident I tossed you the one that was the wimpiest. Besides, that’s something you could remember fondly in this moment! You might not be able to remember it a couple years down the line… ��You also might not be alive a couple years down the line, so maybe don’t spend your precious days throwing things at me.» At that point, this place is yours for the keeping and my diaries are yours to browse! <Yellen tends to her work once again.> […] «On second thought, that shot was somewhat awful, let’s go out on the range and brush up on your accuracy. And remember the silencer! You don’t want the patriarchs finding out about your professional shooting.»

Cancer: Mazda Miata. Out of all the dark voids I've been in, this is the most ominous. The year is who-cares A.D., the day is Sexta-feira, and Disturbia is still the best pop song ever made since its inception in 2008… Well, maybe it’s not the best. Lights by Ellie Goulding is a strong contender for the best pop song ever made… I’m sure this void has a great taste in music too: I’m guessing it likes more classical variations of Fado given where I managed to stumble into it, but I could be making assumptions there. The void could have just as varied and distinct tastes as I do. I mean, it’s kind enough to offer me some sort of audio refraction, so I can thankfully hear myself whenever I make a sound in the blackness… Yeah, this void has been quite accommodating despite being so off-putting, but maybe I was being too harsh in my initial judgements. […] You know, dark void, I think we got off on a bad start: My name’s Springe and I’ve lived in southwest Córdoba for fifteen years after I was relocated from my birthplace in… Oh, I forgot that I don’t remember where I was born. I just know I was born on this continent and that was it. For my accomplishments, I’ve been employed at an after-hours clinic for eleven of those total years and I’ve long gone past the point of worrying if I’ll make it to the point where I can find a higher paying job: That’s why I appreciate what you’ve done for me so far, void. I appreciate you because I’m used to failure, and you’re the realization that failure isn’t always what we hype it up to be. Sometimes… it’s just somber and reflective. I’m not even reflecting on how I failed, rather I’m reflecting on why I pursued victory in the first place. […] Void, I wanna thank you for the time you’ve spent with me here, and I wanna let you know that my first impressions were inaccurate. From my conversations with you, you seem like a very personable void with a lot to talk about and a very cultured mind that can talk for hours. As much fun as it’s been, we have to depart. So long, dark void, you’ve would’ve made a great podcast co-host… Hey, who said you would have made a great co-host? You can still be one! We can sit in here for hours and just pretend to record a podcast with our lack of recording equipment. We’ll call it… the Eternity Flame.

Virgo: Type 57 Atlantic. Okay, you know, I admit: I might be mildly obsessed with the idea of Guy Fieri as a cute lesbian with frosted, spiky hair and button-up shirts who goes around talking about Flavortown. I really feel like making up another goth friend for her to be with, but I don’t want her to be just another generic goth you know: I wanna diversify my goths as much as possible, like creating a lineup of goths to pick and choose from. I want this lesbian Guy Fieri to have a goth girlfriend who isn’t immediately disgusted by the thought of eating at some place like the Heart Attack Grill. She’ll be named something ironic though in contrast to her fearlessness when approaching the western corruptions that are the Heart Attack Grill and other imitators like it — lesbian Fieri would like any sincere appreciation of the Heart Attack Grill because she’s not worried about the health risks; she’s just worried if the food tastes good or not. So, the irony that comes from her girlfriend’s name is hilarious, and her name’s gonna be Электрификация. The electrification of her opposition to disgusting American fast-food places is exemplified towards her electrifying attitude towards a modest approach away from them, hence the name Электрификация. […] I wonder if, like, I can code in some underlying arc about lesbian Fieri needing to find the twelve sacred restaurants and relighting the hidden power beneath them to restore the balance of the… meat and produce industry or whatever. Each restaurant has a different theme associated with them, and each has a tragedy and lesson waiting for our lesbian hero, Fieri, and her girlfriend who acts as a foil character, but in a way that exposes the faults of a common attitude. [,] Oh, maybe the first restaurant will be Lebanese-themed and what lesbian Fieri and her girlfriend encounter is a Dabke ensemble called Goddess County, and they seem normal at first, but then reveal themselves to be the ancient spirits holding the sacred spirit of the restaurant that lesbian Fieri must pacify. Ooh, what if she has to go through a series of challenges all centered around cuisine? […] «Ms. Rusalka, what is this sheet music you’re submitting me? Why is Guy Fieri here and why is he a lesbian with frosted tips and a burger-critical girlfriend that he somehow gets along with?» Um, it’s my project; I’ve been working on it for a while, you see, and I think it’s zany enough to warrant publication. «That's not gonna reach anyone! He's a damn internet meme and the lesbians don't want that, and I don't care how nice of a guy he is!» Excuse me, how are you to assume what lesbians would be interested in? Square up, right now.

Sagittarius: DeLorean DMC-12. Uh, okay, I’ll tell you a story from my recent service in the military. Hold on, let me get one thing before I start. <Rossouw eats one last chip from her bag of kettle-cooked, and she begins positioning her hands so as to make them instruments of verbal storytelling.> "It was five years ago, and I was deployed in the southern border of Angola to assist the army there in their seizure of an abandoned sector of development they believed to be taken over by a terrorist group. I was part of a squad of seven, and we were tasked with infiltrating the largest building in the area. They made sure that any threats of terrorist forces on the outskirts were eliminated or push backed, so we arrived on the front safely.” [,] Before I begin, I should tell you my role in that squad: I was a rifleman given the responsibility of being the main receiver of squad-leader orders, and I had to make sure every other specialist had to follow said orders. The firearm at my side was nothing special, as it was a standard-issue military crossbow that they gave me the liberty to paint a healthy tint of pink and brandish a serial code of… something that ended in eleven. Now, this was before I recognized how stupid an army lifestyle was, but it was also the time where I was promoted from being a simple mechanical worker to being a gun-toter, and that was the turning point for me. Anyways, back to the story. […] “Our leader was Ofc. Bahomana, and they led with us sneaking into the backdoor that was cut open via wire-cutters. Inside was nothing much: Just an expanse of a dark, empty shopping center that could’ve been a nice place for me and my nephew to visit in the summertime, but it just had to be occupied by troublemakers. Through the decrepit sectors of once an active shopping sprawl, we sensed nothing but the sound of pipes leaking and the smell of arcane rust. But despite the emptiness, we were on our toes for any sudden attack… eventually, two hours passed and we seemed to’ve scavenged the entire area only to find no visible threat; mold was the most dangerous thing in that store. [,] All was quaint, until I heard a sudden electrical signal and the center light turned on, and the intercom speakers blasted with the sounds of a boot-up. Immediately, our ears were pounded with the roar of ‘Attention, Kmart shoppers!’ and the doors that we entered through were shut.” [,] I urgently demanded Bahomana what we should do, but all they could do was just sit and stare like a deer in headlights… I kept yelling at them, but they would just become more still. […] Regardless of the sheer terror of the moment, it certainly grabbed our attention.

#Zodiaccupuncture #Zodipunc #Libra #Cancer #Virgo #Sagittarius

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247krp · 6 years ago

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— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Cong Li Wei, spotted prancing about in the Northeast Side. I don’t remember seeing him with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say charming and mysterious? Apparently now he spends time as a bartender at Un Poco Tequila Bar and private magic practitioner, and keeps skeletons buried at Banjeom Apartments, 605. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Magnus; we missed you so.

TW: mentions of death and disease

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

High school was supposed to be a dark time in his life, because he was an orphan and a weirdo. That is, however, beyond false. High school was the best time in his life. Li Wei had it all, from popularity to lovers of all kind, to decent grades and grand achievements. He was some sort of supernaturally perfect kind of guy. But it was all a façade, for he was hiding his hard work, his ‘religious’ beliefs, and the fact that his father was a murderer. Left alone in the world, after both of his parents dies, Li Wei found comfort in studying and going deep into what knowledge is. Despite popular belief, he was and still is indeed very smart. Though, he kept it low-key in high school, because he loved the popularity more, and he loved being the icon of good looks and heartbreaks. Just like his father, he came to love power and influence. He hung around all the popular kids, and fit in like a glove. He lied his way to power. And maybe he was helped by a little magic. It went smoothly for a long time, people focused on his looks and his rather attractive personality. But the minute GG opened their mouth, he was a goner. GG started the rumour of a warlock roaming on the school’s grounds, and they called him Magnus. It did not take long for everyone to know the identity of this mystery warlock. They regarded it as stupidity, someone who pretends or roleplays, like a fucking loser or nerd. They were surprised to learn it was Li Wei, but they did not let him forget. Instead, he used this to confuse them. Despite what GG was spreading around, they were pretty confused whether or not GG was right about Li Wei. Before they could answer, he graduated. And GG disappeared. Li Wei would love to believe that his curse reached GG, but even after he graduated, he remained alert.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

Li Wei has not lost his charm, although he can be harsh and pretty private. It somehow lures people in, and that is pretty much all he needs for his career. To the public, he is the attractive bartender who knows how to mix drinks, and sneak some ecstasy in when needed. To private clients, he is the key for a perfect break-up or the death of the enemy. Li Wei keeps his life balanced, and he enjoys all that it has to offer. He is very much a carpe diem kind of guy, and sometimes he can get lost in his own fantasies and pleasures. But even then, he is very earthly. He does not allow others to push him around, and has learnt to ignore rumours that are beyond false. In his life there has only been one person who truly brought the worst in him, GG. Shall GG come back, his life might get tipsy for he will not give up until he finds whoever decided to mess up with his reputation. Even so, one could say Li Wei is unbreakable. And truly, he does seem unbreakable. Whether or not he is, is a question of perspective. Anyways, he will make everyone believe he is almighty. He loves his power, and not even GG can take that away.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Her magic was forged by the ancestors, and gifted in a box made of gold. She was born to serve the spirits, and the humans. She was the perfect balance between good and evil, and the four elements. She was a white witch. He was born with flaws, with scars that never healed and powers learnt by reading. His magic used to be the balance between white and black, but power eats at you the more you crave for it. He was a Bokor, made a warlock by the power he craved so. And then, they met .There was nothing written to describe the magicthat arose from their heavenly love. It felt like a rose whose thorns turned into silvery medallions, and whose scent carried a thousand pounds of dust created for the sole purpose of waxing the entire world. It was something Aphrodite herself could not put into words. And if she existed she would certainly be jealous of their passion.

Peizhi Cong was a respected man, a war hero and a close advisor of the Senator. He came from a long line of magic practitioners, with voodoo running through his family’s veins for over three centuries. It was unusual to have an Asian-born Bokor, but certainly Peizhi was the only one made for the job. He used to be an anchor to white and black magic for a long time, but everything changed once he met the one and only Yingyue Jiang. Yingyue was not only the most beautiful woman he has ever met, she is the woman he decided to marry. She came from a long line of white witches, people who practiced earthly magic for healing and altruistic reasons. Although their marriage did not last long, their love managed to bring to life a little bundle of joy. However, Peizhi became addicted to power. With hopes of surpassing the power of the ancestors and impressing his lover, he reached out to the dark side, and was unable to come back. The moment he started killing, the spirits punished him. The more power and influence he got, the less of a human being he became. In his last stage, he was barely alive anymore. Black magic is an abomination of nature, it draws from the dead, and the sacrifice. Peizhi experimented a lot with the dark side, not only of voodoo but also of sorcery and necromancy, some of the knowledge was borrowed from ancient books of spells and potions the Jiang family owned. Yingyue did not realise that she was slowly killing her lover. From his darkness, he did love. But not Yingyue, or she became the object and anchor of his power. He loved his little boy, more than he ever loved anyone else. But, he loved power more. And it was his end. Peizhi was executed when Li Wei was only seven years old. Yingyue and a numerous coven of witches performed a ritual to get rid of Peizhi’s spirit forever. When he died, his power did not just disappear. Li Wei symbolically inherited that power and Peizhi was reborn, inside and through his son.

Li Wei Cong was the happy memory of the family. Both of his parents loved him dearly, but he always felt more attached to his father. Yingyue taught him white magic, and mainly helped him brew potions. Small ones, for short-timed good luck or a whiff of love. His father talked to him, a lot. Peizhi did not teach him voodoo, but he taught him the ways to magic. Through the grimoires he left behind, to the entire history and culture of voodoo, curses, spells and hexes. Li Wei was fascinated, and has dreamed of the day he would be able to conquer the world like his father. To him, Peizhi was a superhero. When Peizhi died, some of Li Wei’s soul died with him. The grief that overcame the young boy was transformed into dark ‘magic’. A macabre version of it. The rituals, spells, hexes, potions and curses Li Wei performs were always way out of balance, according to the coven of Jiang witches. And the ‘spirits’ were not pleased with his magic practices. Yingyue fell ill quickly after her husband died, and despite being supported by her coven through potions that were meant to heal her, she died two years later of what doctors diagnosed to be cancer. Li Wei has lived with his aunt ever since.

Whilst it all sounds like a magical story of love and revenge, one must be aware of the superstition and science behind it all. Magic, as Li Wei was presented, is merely another word for remedies, poisons and incantations that come from the Middle Ages. All of them are rooted in science. From the herbs used to cure a cold, to the dangerous poison that transforms people into ‘zombies’, it is all a myth. But people like the Jiangs and Congs truly believe in the supernatural properties of the entire process. However, Li Wei is well aware there is no magic behind his rituals and spells. Though he must believe beyond doubt that what he does is truly magical, and that he can connected to spirits and absorb their power. He believes he is meant to share this false belief in magic, so he does that with everyone he meets. Whether they are believers or not, Li Wei will makethem believe. What they would later regard as coincidence is merely a well-calculated plan to make their lives harder. Once they believe, they will throw their money at Li Wei to perform protection rituals, and give them potions and spells for the loved ones. Here is the catch: ever since Yingyue died, Li Wei has never come in touch with white magic again. He hated it beyond reason, as he believed white magic is what killed his father. So he only dabbles in the dark side of voodoo and sorcery, making him extremely well-versed in potions, curses, predictions and certain rituals to bring misfortune, or even death.

#247: accepted

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

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Wisconsin: Go Drunk, Youre Home

One winter evening earlier this year, in a nondescript small town off a nondescript highway in northern Wisconsin, a male relative of mine suffered a mild heart attack while getting a fresh beer from his fridge. On his way to the hospital, the ambulance carrying him hit a deer. Another ambulance had to take everybody the rest of the way. Everybody turned out fine, except, I suppose, the deer.

Every aspect of that story screams Wisconsin. The deer. The heart attack. But mostly, the beer.

This week, 24/7 Wall St. released its list of the top 20 drunkest cities in America. Ten of the top 20 drunkest cities in America (and all of the top four) are in the Badger State.

Wisconsins prominence on this list might seem puzzling to a person who isnt familiar with Wisconsin or its alcohol-centric culture. Maybe people drink a lot there because its cold, but a lot of other nearby states also have shit weather without using alcohol to cope. It could be the states German heritage, but German descendants live all over the U.S. Wisconsin has a lot of college towns, but so does California. What makes Wisconsin different? Whats wrong with it?

I posed the question to a random assortment of people who have lived or currently live in WisconsinWhy so drunk?and it seems there isnt a single reason that drinking is so central to the culture there; there are several reasons.

Wisconsin contains multitudes. And, in a state with such a wide range of ideology, drinking is a neutral activity.

I was born in Wisconsin and lived the first 18 years of my life there. My home state has produced a stunning array of historical weirdos, from zealot Joseph McCarthy to murderer Ed Gein to artist Georgia OKeeffe to my brother, who for Mothers Day gave our mom a coffee mug with his own (stern) face on the side of it with the word FAMILY inscrutably emblazoned over the corner. The tallest point in Wisconsin is a little over 1,000 feet above sea level, but the glacier that carved the great plains skipped a triangle of land in the southwestern part of the state, so driving from Madison toward LaCrosse takes a person through an almost eerie undersea landscape. Weve got a whole lot of Lake Superior lakefront, in case anybody feels like swimming in water almost too cold to drink; Lake Michigan lakefront, if anyone prefers the excitement of swimming in water that may contain pee that drifted north from Chicago; and 11,000 freshwater lakes in case anybody want to smell like algae and maybe get swimmers itch. The town where I grew up has recently seen an influx of Amish and Mennonites snapping up cheap land and farming it with horses, so I guess you could say its de-gentrifying in parts.

Its politically weird, too. The Republican Party was born in Wisconsin. The John Birch Society is based there. But also, my Norwegian great-grandfather used to have socialists over to his farm after church, to sit around and complain about the captilists, like a modern DSA meeting except with fewer wrist tattoos. Anybody who has seen Waynes World can tell you that the city of Milwaukee has elected three socialist mayors. Speaker of the House and Ayn Rand fanboy Paul Ryan is from Wisconsin, but so is dyed-in-the-wool liberal Sen. Tammy Baldwin, the first openly gay woman elected to the U.S. Senate.

Wisconsin contains multitudes. And, in a state with such a wide range of ideology, drinking is a neutral activity. [Drinking] is open to everyone who is interested, requires a limited skill set, can be done any time, anywhere, is socially encouraged, and is a pastime weve internalized and embraced as part of our state identity, says Rachel, a teacher in her mid-thirties who lives in Burlington.

A fancy beer might set a person back $4. You can get half-drunk for the price of a single movie ticket.

Wisconsin was one of the last states to raise the drinking age to 21 (in 1986), and that was only because the federal government threatened to withhold highway funding. My parents met at a bar in 1978, when my mother was 18. Underage people are still allowed to drink in bars in Wisconsin, provided they are accompanied by a parent, guardian, or spouse who is of-age and their of-age companion does the ordering. (That means that somebody could order their 5-year-old a beer, theoretically, but during my summers waitressing I never saw anybody try to pull anything crazy like that.) Hunting and fishing culture contributes as well; while its probably ill-advised to get hammered before deer opener, the entire point of ice fishing is sitting in a small, uninsulated room that isnt in your house and getting drunk while staring at a hole in the ice and listening to the Packer game on an FM radio.

The states tradition of beer brewing means that alcohol is cheap, too, as Cullen, an Eau Claire resident in his late thirties, points out. Mixed drinks are $2.50 and beer is $1.50. Those are the real prices, he says. A fancy beer might set a person back $4. You can get half-drunk for the price of a single movie ticket.

Weather and ennui certainly factor into Wisconsins drinking habit. Six months of the year are reliably terrible, weather-wise, driving people indoors to socialize. Breanna, a bartender, says that people feeling economic pressure often drown their sorrows in her bar. And Tyrell, who has since moved to Minneapolis, notes, Wisconsin is boring as hell. Theres nothing to do except get drunk and play the lottery.

Theres also the Midwestern stoicism factor. Its the deep pervasive culture of immigrant Scandinavians (we dont talk with people, we talk about people and eat/drink our feelings) and stoic German farmers (dont talk about the feelingthere is only one, right?pissed), writes Sarah, who has since moved to Colorado. This results in kids and families not knowing how to reconcile, say I love you, share real feelings, ask real questions, etc.

Wisconsinites love each other when theyre drunk, and Wisconsin performatively loves how drunk it is.

Drinking is often the center of family celebrations, too. My extended familys Christmas Eve party, traditionally held at my grandparents house down the road and around the corner from where I grew up, would go from wholesome fun to extremely lit party right around when it started getting dark in the mid-afternoon. My uncles would get in tipsy, borderline nonsensical debates about things like: Who is the Paul Wellstone of the Minnesota Twins outfield? My grandmother would sing the Volga Boatmen song in an opera falsetto, a demonstration of how she used to sing that way to get her six sons to settle down, because all of her sons hated that singing. Unsupervised, my cousins and I would do things like mix all of the condiments into a tall glass of water and dare my brother to drink it, and he would. Wed play extremely competitive games of Balderdash that escalated to shouting. Wed find glitter, and take it out of the cupboards. Wed play hide-and-seek, but with screaming. Wed put on our winter boots and run around in the snow, chased by our dogs, their breath rising as steam as they bounded past us. Some of my best childhood memories are from nights all of the adults were Christmas drunk.

Wisconsins drinking culture isnt necessarily accompanied by the sort of aggression one might associate with a bar district. One Eau Claire resident, who has worked at a busy bar downtown in the second drunkest city in America for the last six years, says hes never seen a fight. We have a drinking culture, he says. But its not vomiting wackos and aggressive creeps. Its just what we do.

Bryan, a resident of Grantsburg, adds, Wisconsin is the only state that can consume excess amounts of alcohol and love their neighbor at the same time. Most states would start a war.

Wisconsinites love each other when theyre drunk, and Wisconsin performatively loves how drunk it is. The stores in airports in Madison and Milwaukee display hooded sweatshirts and beer koozies that read DRINK WISCONSINBLY. DRINK WISCONSINBLY is to Wisconsin what I (heart) NY is to New York. But because its so proud of itself, Id take the entire drunkest cities list with a grain of salt. Wisconsin lacks the requisite shame that often accompanies intoxication and thus would lean in on any survey that would allow them to self-report their drunkenness.

Were just not embarrassed about it, says Noah, who grew up in Madison. Minnesotans have a deep sense of shame about things in general.

So is it possible that Wisconsin isnt as dramatically drunker than its neighbors as advertised? Sure. But as I sit here typing this on a laptop balanced on a pillow shaped like my home state, I know deep down in my heart that the bars back home are brimming with people Wisconsinbly drunk on $2 beers. And that neither the deer nor the drunks will know better than to stay off the roads.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com/wisconsin-go-drunk-youre-home

from Viral News HQ https://ift.tt/2Hib2ue via Viral News HQ

#IFTTT #Viral News HQ

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