#although I now live in an area that has had tornadoes before. as recently as last year in fact

[vitiateoriginator]

I'm the hugest chicken shit on the planet. There was a tornado watch for my area. I started panicking and tried to convince my datemate to go home with me, since we were both out and planning to go shopping before the weather turned. But my datemate said we wouldn't make it to the bus stop before it'd start to storm. And he was right. It started pouring as soon as we decided to go inside someplace, with lightning flashing in intervals that were too close together for my liking (I have a huge phobia for lightning. I'm almost certain I'll get struck one of these days cause I have terrible luck).

So like stupid white people, we went to Olive Garden (tbf it was the nearest shelter, and we were both hungry). No sooner we get inside, nearly everyone in the restaurant gets an alert on their phone, that we were now in a tornado warning. More panic ensues from yours truly, but datemate tried to keep me calm. Waitress tries to seat us right next to a window, and I politely beg her to seat us somewhere else. So she obliges and we get settled. Not long after that, the fucking power went out. And I lost it. I jumped into the booth my datemate was sitting in and clung to him like a koala, shaking and crying. I was certain a tornado was gonna hit us, because of how crazy the weather was outside on top of the power dying. It came back on, and everything was fine after a while. But even now I'm still shaken up. I'm such a pussy

[nurgletwh]

Update part two (this is the rest of it, there isn’t any more… at the moment O.o).

February 2024

It took all of two days for my BP to return to my ‘normal’ (the value I expected and where it’s been for a few years now).

It took over a week for me to feel mostly better, and two to approach feeling normal.

Chug away through the rest of the month, but I’m not energetic at all.

March 2024

Nothing super-exciting, although I slowly but surely feel more and more drained—almost exactly the way I felt when I went in because my blood sugar was high. Which was very confusing, because it was great.

Late March-April 2024

I felt awful again. I could barely get the energy up to do anything, and I was back to sleeping all the time. 14-16 hours per day on the weekend, falling asleep in my chair when I got home from work, waking up enough to crawl into bed and go right back to sleep for the night. Which also adds up to 14-16 hours per day.

Warning: diet talk

———

Remember how I started Ozempic? It does weird things to how I perceive hunger. Add that to how well I remember to eat and…

At some point I realized that in the last three days the only things I’d eaten each day were a couple of pieces of toast w/peanut butter for breakfast, nibbled on jerky for lunch, and maybe ate some more toast for dinner.

Thinking back further, I couldn’t figure out a recent time frame where I had done better than that. I had weighed myself in early February, and remembered wondering if dropping 25lbs. (11.3kg) in eight weeks was a good idea.

Shit.

(FYI: no*, it isn’t.)

So I got my exhausted ass out of the house and grabbed a case of Ensure, multivitamins, and other snacky crap I knew I’d eat. My goal was to get things back together enough to get the energy to start fixing my diet, nothing more. I knew aiming higher wouldn’t work until after I could do something besides work and nap.

(*Experts recommend an initial weight-loss goal of 5% to 10% of your starting weight within 6 months. For me, it should have taken nearly seven months to hit that 10%. Granted, these rates are for ‘unassisted’ dieting.)

———

It took all of three days for me to feel significantly better. Not great, but better. I still didn’t have much energy, but my sleeping patterns altered drastically. I was still napping after work, but I would wake up two hours later and accomplish something before going to bed. I didn’t accomplish much, but it was more than sleeping and more sleeping.

Things slowly got better, but again, getting to “ok” was faster than getting back to “normal.”

I know I dropped off the face of the earth, but it felt like every time I announced that things went wonky but I was feeling better now and put out a few chapters, things would blow up again. I wanted to make sure things were better this time.

Which was a poor choice; I should at least have posted something that said I was fucked up but working on it. I apologize for that lack of communication, although things did blow up again…

April 26, 2024

TORNADO.

A FUCKING TORNADO WENT RIGHT THROUGH OUR WORKSITE.

FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK!!!

I know I posted about it. It wasn’t very strong (HA!) by the time it came over the hill and destroyed the house at the top of it, merely (MERELY!!) tossing over a few rail cars and flipping a few semi-trailers.

We got lucky. This very same tornado absolutely wrecked Elkhorn (west of Omaha, NE).

I’ve stated I live and work in the Omaha area, so I’m not too worried about posting this, but here is an overlay of that tornado’s path on top of Apple Maps with my little blue dot while sitting at my desk.

May 2024

Most of May went fairly smoothly. I even got a little writing done!

Unfortunately, I had fallen so far behind on projects at work during all of the above that I was now trying to get caught up. Said project was over four months late at this point. I was working a bit late (not crazy-late, but about an extra hour most days) while still drained, so I didn’t have a whole lot of extra mental energy for writing.

I was, however, finally back to plotting and planning! Yay! Progress!

Until… (is anyone shocked at this point?)

The Friday before Memorial Day I felt a bit drained.

I woke up Saturday with a headache, feeling achy and sore. It didn’t get better, so I took my temperature around noon. 100.1ºF.

Wonderful.

I took a Covid test (that’s my default action to feeling crappy now), but it came back negative. Note that I wasn’t coughing, and I didn’t feel particularly short of breath or anything.

Nothing improved over Sunday, but it didn’t change much, either.

Same for Monday (Memorial Day). But this now made three days with a fever (also three consecutive negative Covid tests).

I agreed to @grumpyoldsnake’s and their friend’s demands to get my ass to a doctor the next day if I still had the fever, although I really wasn’t feeling too bad other than achy. Note: still no coughing (I promise this is important).

I woke up in the middle of the night when I heard something that sounded like a goddamn goose in my bedroom.

Have you ever woken yourself up by making some weird-ass noise that you then can’t duplicate? Even though you know you made it?

I was able to duplicate it. Without much issue. It fell under “well, that’s odd,” and I went back to sleep.

A bit later I woke up to a different weird noise, but I was sidetracked by what I heard and felt after I coughed a few times. My chest was making a sound like a freshly opened pop can. When my mouth was open, it was even worse. I could feel it bubbling away (it didn’t hurt).

Fuck.

Guess what?

PNEMONIA!!

Fuck my life.

Prior to Friday, I hadn’t been sick. They tested me for the flu; that was negative.

Pneumonia is almost always a secondary infection, not primary. You have a cold, or Covid, or bronchitis, and it turns into pneumonia when bacteria settle into your irritated bronchi.

Me, on the other hand…

I never really coughed all that much. Reviewing the blood oxygen data from my Apple Watch, I could peg when the infection started really kicking in, although it looks like something started about a week prior to that (when I did a round-trip plane trip, spending five or six hours on a plane and in an airport two days in a row…).

It took a week to get to a place where my breathing to start feeling easier, nearly two before the oxygen levels started crawling back up.

I did start coughing.

And coughing up��� liquid. It was the weirdest sensation. I’d cough, and end up with a mouthful of what felt like slightly thick water. It didn’t really taste, and was nearly colorless.

I coughed that shit up for nearly three days.

I never coughed up the stuff that had any sort of color, although it did get thicker and more ‘traditional’ for stuff you cough up when you get sick. Which puts to lie that you can tell you have a chest infection by the color of the crud you cough up. :-/

It took another nearly two weeks after finishing the ten days of antibiotics to feel like my breathing was normal. The first day back to work was one hell of a reality check, though. I hadn’t been moving around much, and I knew I was short of breath, but I made it all of fifty feet from my car, then about ⅓ of the way up the stairs to my office before I had to stop. I couldn’t catch my breath and was dizzy.

That was the first time I thought, “that could have killed me.”

Not walking up the stairs, but what led to me standing on the stairs, gasping like a landed fish.

It was emphatically hammered home when I made a joking comment to a coworker that it thankfully wasn’t that bad.

Her response?

“Oh, no. Your x-ray was bad.”

>.<

I’ve been getting better. My nutrition went sideways again due to being utterly distracted, but I think that is fairly understandable. :-P

I refuse to say “I’m doing fine now!!”

Fate doesn’t need the temptation.

I hope to get back to writing. I hope even more that I can tackle the monster my inbox has become (both at AO3 and my personal email, which has been just as neglected).

Take care, everyone. Stay healthy.

[herohotline]

Can I request Aizawa realizing he’s falling for a bubbly male hero after that hero helps him in a fight?

A/N: I know it’s not a matchup or going along with my to-do list, but I’ve been really depressed and this I wrote this really adorable request to make me feel better. I now feel at least 2% better. I hope it does something for any of you dudes, too ❤️ I cut this down a bit, it was originally a lot longer lmao. Might want to do a part two!!

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa / Male Reader

Reader: Hero name Witcher, controls the air around him by creating powerful gusts of wind and tornados. 

Villains are ruthless, annoying, trouble-making, selfish, stupid people. 

Villains deserve nothing- but they deserve everything if they’re getting a sentence and trial- ugh, enough of this- villains are exactly what is making Aizawa late.

Now, Aizawa wasn’t any sort of All Might- he never ran forth at every sign of trouble. But Aizawa had his hero license and title for a reason, and he accepted that, yes, sometimes the ‘other person’ coming to help had to be him. This was one of those times- how could he just walk to class and ignore the wannabe group of villains as they wave their guns around and take random passer-by’s hostage?

There were three of them, all remarkably young in age- which further proved Aizawa’s point that villains are stupid- and one of them had a shield quirk- which further proved his point that villains are annoying. 

Before they had the chance to see him, Aizawa had perched himself atop a building and out of sight so he could make some sort of plan. The first thing he had to do was split the group up- then he could focus on the man producing impenetrable shields, then he could try and use that as leverage to free the hostages. The entire thing was risky- he’d have to clean it up by himself in barely a few minutes so he could ensure the lives of the hostages. Hopefully, the police would come soon and provide back-up.

It’s when he finished that thought that someone came swooping in- a bright costume that he didn’t recognize along with a charming laugh that passed right by him. “Stop worrying!” The voice came and his eyes snapped over to a man- he was obviously a fellow hero and stood just a few feet in front of him. “Let’s deal with this quickly, okay?” The sudden new-comer looks behind his shoulder to send a quick wink Aizawa’s way before he dove for the action.

A distraction, Aizawa realizes. That’s what he’s trying to do. 

—

“Well, this is troublesome!” You whistle breezily as you step forward to the scene. You quickly look over everything that looks troubling: guns, hostages, meddlesome quirks… The usual for a hero to deal with. “I’d love it if we could deal with this quickly, yeah?” you tut, a safe-but-kind-of-stretching-it distance away from the villains. 

“Who do you think you are?!” One of them shouts- oh, you love it when they have a short temper. Another one looks equally pissed off by your flamboyant behavior- villains usually do.

“Who am I?” You ask aloud. “Well, I could honestly be whoever you want me to be. Perhaps,” your head tilts to the side as you smile, and the man with the money and long coat in their group is harshly thrown to the side- a large gust of wind following along and nearly tripping his friends. His body meets a hard and cemented wall of the next building over, knocking him out for the time being, “a wizard?” You continue. The other villains look at you, clearly pissed off and cock their guns. “A hero?” Quickly you sweep the hostages in the air, sending them over to you and in your arms. Thankfully there’s only three of them- enough to carry, although with a bit of difficulty. “Or just an annoyance? Maybe I’m all three!” 

They begin shooting in the middle of your speech- which is rude- but your job is done. The dark and brooding hero from before finally shows up, right on time as he uses the strange scarf around his neck to send the guns to the floor and then wrap up one of the villains. As he continues his surprise attack, you quickly run a safe distance away and deposit the hostages in a hidden alley. 

There’s a walkie strapped to your outfit and you quickly take it off. “I’ve got three hostages at the corner of Telvet, officers. Please ensure their safety as Eraserhead and I take care of the villains.”

A voice warbles through the radio. “Got it, we’re on our way, Witcher.” 

You quickly give the oldest woman in the group the walkie. “Keep this on you, make sure to keep out of sight until the officers arrive,” you instruct her carefully, keeping eye-contact as you place an arm on her shoulder. The other two civilians are young boys- brothers, you assume. “Don’t split up, don’t go anywhere. You will be safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” she stutters, the walkie tight in her grip. You shake your head. 

“Tell me. Tell me you’ll be okay- believe in that.”

“I’ll- we’ll be okay, Witcher!” She tries her best to wear a more confident look and you give her a big grin, slapping her shoulder and standing up quickly. You almost fall backwards because of how suddenly you stand, but that’s neither here nor there. 

“Good job! I believe in you!” 

—

Aizawa really wasn’t meant for one-on-two fights, as much as he hates to admit it. It’s obviously not too difficult- he’s a pro and these villains are still kids, not knowing what they’re doing and relying too much on quirks. They’re predictable, easy, but still an annoyance. 

So he’s relieved when you, whoever you are, come dashing back to the fight and help restrain the villains with him- and then the other one who’s still lying near the wall for good measure. The police arrive within seconds once the fight is over, informing both of you that they found the hostages and took them down to the police station for questioning. 

“Oh, be careful with those boys, okay? They were really young looking, clearly shaken up.” Aizawa eyes you from a distance as you talk with the officers. “That girl is really tough- but could you bring me back my walkie? I gave it to her.”

Your personality was certainly one of a kind, that’s for sure. He can’t stop looking at you- because who are you? The way you handled the entire situation was almost perfectly unorganized and impulsive- but impulsive in an amazingly thoughtful way? You clearly knew what you were doing but gave off an energy that made it feel like you were winging it. 

He heard one of the officers mumble your hero name, clearly, they were familiar with you- Witcher? Aizawa’s certain he’s never heard the name before. 

You were obviously not on the same level of unfamiliarity as he was. 

“Eraserhead!” You call out to him, smiling and showing off your teeth as you present your hand to him. “It was great meeting you- or, working with you for the first time!” Aizawa is quick to shake your hand, not wanting to seem rude, for whatever reason. Is it just him, or are you dazzling? Once you put your hand away he’s quick to wipe his dry eyes- it’s probably just the sun. “I’m sorry if I caught you off guard- my ways of hero work are a bit unorthodox for some. I would have filled you in if there was time.”

“Unorthodox?” Aizawa snorts. “Sounds like a better name for you than Witcher.”

“Hey, I like that name! It makes me sound super neat, doesn’t it?” For whatever reason, you laugh, even though Aizawa’s joke really wasn’t that funny. 

He’s sort of blushing and has no idea why- but he hates it and wants to get to class as soon as possible. That’s why it’s strange that he finds himself stuck in place as he continues to talk to you. “I’m surprised I haven’t heard of you before, Witcher. Where are you from?” 

You chuckle, one of your hands scratching the back of your neck. “I’m not surprised. I came from another area of Japan- it’s kind of rural, you know? I just moved to the big city recently.” As you speak, you look at the area around you wistfully. “It’s nice here.”

Aizawa squints. He’s put off- but somehow intrigued by your personality. “How old are you?” He blurts before he can stop- it makes you laugh again. 

“Don’t people in the city not ask that kind of stuff?” Aizawa watches as your whole body moves as you laugh- you give into it, letting it control your body in a weird shake and rumble. Your shoulders bounce, your knees bend and your feet tilt up. It’s… possibly endearing. “Would you believe me if I told you I’m turning 32 next week?” 

“No,” Aizawa immediately says, “but Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks- but don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

Right. He looks down at his watch, internally wincing at the time he sees. No one will really care besides him- he’s rarely late, so people in the school know he has a good reason to lag behind. But he knows he’ll get a stern talk from Iida and several worried speeches from other students.  

Why’s he feel like a kid in trouble when he’s the damn teacher?

“I could give you a ride. I actually own a car, surprise surprise. It’s faster than the subway.” 

He hasn’t agreed yet, but still, he finds himself following you as you lead the way to your vehicle. “You know where I work?” He asks. “You know I don’t have a car?” 

“C’mon, Eraserhead, everyone knows where you work.” You look him up and down with a smirk, “and it’s easy to tell you ride the subway.”

“Fuck off.”

“Yikes! Sore spot, huh?” You’re obviously unoffended and he hasn’t even realized that you’re both at your car until you open one of the doors for him. A quick glance lets him know that you have money- but you’re obviously modest about it. It’s a nice car, but nothing too flashy or brag-worthy.

Unlike Hizashi’s car. This is a nice change. 

“So, Eraserhead,” you easily slide into your car and shut the door in one swoop, already starting the engine before he can realize. “Am I gonna have to keep calling you Eraserhead, or can I call you by a name?” 

Usually, he’d say no. Eraserhead was fine and he didn’t like giving out personal information so freely. It’s his name and he doesn’t like to wear it out. But, again, before he can think- “Aizawa.” 

“Nice to meet you, Aizawa. Put your damn seatbelt on,” you begin to drive and smile at him again. “My name’s ___.”

It’s a nice name. Definitely better than ‘Witcher’. 

—

Aizawa runs into you several times after that- something he doesn’t know how to feel about. On one hand, you’re interesting and charming in your own way. He likes the conversations you’ll have after defeating a bad guy together or even running into each other at the supermarket. 

But he dislikes the weird, hot feeling he always gets in his chest whenever you come and leave. No, he doesn’t ever lose his composure around you- because he never does for anybody.

But sometimes, he gets close. And Aizawa didn’t know why that was for a really long time- 

Until, eventually, word of you got around and eventually Nezu had you make a special appearance for the hero course. And Aizawa got to watch you laugh and smile and inspire his students so wonderfully- 

That’s when he realized that maybe he’s feeling a lot more than he’s letting on. 

—

This little ‘crush’ doesn’t get better, it only gets worse. Aizawa isn’t used to crushes- it’s been a long time since he was a teenager, and that’s the last time he really let himself think about things romantically. It’s especially hard to deal with because it’s you- you’re so different than him that it makes it more difficult to hide his feelings.

But he does, of course, hide his feelings- that’s what he always does. 

It also doesn’t help that his students now love you- you’re brought up more than once, which is enough to annoy him. He would rather not think about you at work, or maybe at all- for Christ Sake, Aizawa doesn’t even have your number. All your meetings so far have been by chance- or ungodly bad luck. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way about you.

Another swing of good- bad luck comes when Toshi waves a slip of paper in his face one morning in the Teacher’s Lounge. “I got his number for you,” The retired hero looks awfully happy with himself for such a meager thing. 

Aizawa snaps the paper out of his hand. “So? Why are you meddling?”

“You like him, don’t you?” Toshi’s eyes follow Aizawa as he passes the taller man, grumpily making his coffee with the office coffee maker- it makes him grumpier knowing that it’s watered down bullshit but it’s better than nothing. Especially if he’s going to be dealing with Toshi this early in the morning.  

“What do you have to do with that?”

“Aizawa,” Toshi sighs. “Is it so much to do something for yourself for once?”

Something for himself? 

Is pursuing a relationship with you something he’d be doing for himself? It seems unlikely- you probably didn’t like him anyway. Aizawa doesn’t want to take the chance.

“Thanks, Toshi. I’ll think about it.” He assures, making Toshi smile and finally walk away. 

The least he can do is text you, but Aizawa is a liar- he’s sure as hell not going to pursue you like the old hero might want him to. 

Even if he secretly really, really wants to. 

[ais-n]

1 | more like apologise for how harmful it was? how the mlm relationships were so clearly hetero? the sex scenes were so straight to me tbh. and i say this as someone who has read the books twice. first time i didn't see what i saw the second time. i think you genuinely wanted to have people of colour representation but it's very racist to me how hsin and emilio were done. constantly called "exotic" which is a thing americans like to use so much when it's not their ethnicity.

Hi! Thanks for the detailed explanation, I appreciate it! At first I had such HIGH HOPES I could reply to all three of your asks in one place but it turns out I talked too much (go figure lol) So I’m going to do then one at a time. I did want to start out replying to one offhand comment in the 3rd ask and then I’ll get into the rest. Below is what I had written before I realized I need to split it into three and then edited out saying I’m answering all at once. For anyone who hasn’t seen all three asks yet, that’s why part of what I’m talking about isn’t represented above - anon, hopefully it makes more sense to you since you know the future right now from what you had written in the past. ....wow, I made that confusing.

++++++

Thank you for the explanation! I appreciate you too! Also you made me laugh out loud at the gay comment, so thank you for that XD You are not making me feel worse; I appreciate the courage you no doubt had to pull together to post this :) I could be wrong but if I imagine myself in your place, I imagine feeling a little scared or intimidated to post and yet feeling it is necessary. I think it’s really cool you were able to post this in such a thoughtful explanation. Thank you!

In order to not overwhelm anyone’s inbox - and to make it easier for you - I put these all together in one ask. [[[EDIT: JUST KIDDING I talk too much - this is answering stuff from each ask at a time, sorry. I put it behind a cut to make it less long on people’s dashboards.]]] 

Still, I imagine with so much I want to talk about at once, I will probably miss things so let me know if I miss something you really wanted to talk about or you wanted follow up on something in particular.

Anyway READ MORE BELOW for a probably stupidly long reply lol Just, knowing me at least….

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hi welcome to the below deck party! I don’t know why I said it that way. That was creepy sorry lol Anyway I’m breaking this up a little bit but the more I think about it the more I think this probably really can’t address everything properly in one place. So, again, seriously just let me know if you want follow up on anything - or if anyone does, for that matter. I’m not doing this quite in order though.

RACE: 

Yeah actually, I agree that “exotic” is pretty ??? terminology to be using tbh. I don’t imagine I would use that wording if I were writing something today and if we were to edit the series now, I’d remove it. I don’t remember the context, to be honest; whether it was only used in narration or if it was used in dialogue too. Dialogue might stay, if it’s to show a person speaks a certain way and has certain views on life, but I’d personally probably change that in narration unless it had a specific reason for being there. Which my very vague memories combined with your comment make me think probably not?

In regards to Hsin/Emilio plus even terminology like ‘exotic’ or whatever being used - so, upfront, I need you to know this whole post is not an excuse or etc. It’s just an explanation. 

I didn’t write Hsin or Emilio, so I honestly can’t speak for or about them. I would like to be able to give you some insight into “Sonny’s” background and his friends and family he said he was inspired by in writing them, or give you insight into Alicia’s background (as she is a person of color, at least I was always told she is), but I truly don’t even know what was a lie and what was truth anymore. He always told me his characters like Hsin and Emilio were based pretty directly on people he knew - well, Emilio in particular was hugely based on a cousin of his. But that cousin didn’t exist, it turns out, or at least not in the way I knew. We wrote our own characters and were in charge of their own stories, although we also co-wrote the series as a whole and had input on the plot and etc. But I never really dealt directly with Emilio or Hsin in the writing of them other than how my characters interacted with “his” characters.

I can’t speak on behalf of anyone so I honestly can’t say if Emilio and/or Hsin are concerning or not concerning portraitures of any demographic. I really feel that such a determination has to be up to each reader. I say that in part because I’ve heard over the years that people actually appreciated the way they were written, for various reasons, and some of the people saying that were from demographics that the characters represented. But that also doesn’t mean it has to be something across the board; that because one person feels a certain way, everyone else whether in or out of that demographic has to agree. Quite the opposite, really.

I wish I could even say something like “I know Sonny did a lot of research on xyz specific topic because we talked about abc in regards to it” but I can’t. I know we had those conversations but I don’t know if anything I was told is true. What I can say is the series was written basically 15 years ago. Or rather, started around 15 years ago, then written on/off over multiple years. And we started it essentially in the same vein as BL fanfic, just sort of as a fun thing to do on our off time without any initial plan to ever publicly share it. The good thing about humans and culture is we change as we grow, and there are many things we can continue to gain understanding of as we go. 

One of the really good things about the last 15 years is it’s become more and more accessible to learn about the world and its people. When we started ICoS, for example, Google streetview wasn’t a thing. In order to try to be accurate about something like the streets of a particular city, we either had to totally make shit up and say the war changed everything in that town or I had to try to track down a paper map of it and hope nothing had changed significantly since then. 

Slowly over the years, the globalization of information expanded. Over time, all the little details I didn’t know to even question became things I could find easily. Like, do they say W Something St or Something St W? Is it Avenue Blah or Blah Avenue? Do they even use terminology like avenue or streets? Do they commonly have alleyways everywhere or anywhere and if so how big are they? What are the roads made of? What is the lighting like? Are there basements? 

I grew up in Midwest USA on the tail end of tornado alley where a basement is an absolute must. Imagine my absolute confusion when I learned there are houses out there where they DON’T go underground. Like, at all. wtf??? From my, at that time obviously limited, experience, the only people I personally knew who didn’t have some sort of underground space were apartment dwellers or my friend who lived in the mobile home park. It was such a staple understanding in my life to assume everyone had a basement in their home that I had no idea to even question the existence of such a thing when trying to write another location within the US, let alone anywhere else in the world. And at a certain point when we were writing it, I didn’t even know to ask certain questions, or if I did I didn’t have an easy way of finding it.

If you were to read the very, very original version of Evenfall and compare it to what’s most recently released, for example, there are many differences. One example of something you might notice is the streets are totally different in Monterrey. That’s because we had to make up streets the first time around because I could not find any maps for the city. I tried but they just weren’t accessible for whatever reason; not in the detail I needed and where I could find them, or probably afford. We had to just be like “Welp, guess the war changed it all, sry!” to explain the random names and structure. But as the years passed, information spread to a minute level across the world slowly but surely. First, Google eventually had the layout of the city streets, then it had satellite imagery, then it had Google streetview, then it had people randomly uploading photos to locations, and so on. Eventually, there was enough information from big to small to feel relatively sure we could at least somewhat accurately represent the geography - not perfectly, absolutely not because we’d never been there - but an approximation that hopefully wouldn’t be too jarring for someone actually able to visit, themselves.

You may wonder why the hell I’m talking about streets in Mexico when your comment was on Hsin’s and Emilio’s characterizations, but I mention it because I look at a lot of things in writing with that same level of paranoia of wanting all the details possible to write it to try to be as accurate to at least someone’s reality as possible. That’s one reason why I haven’t written Domino, for example, which focuses on Vivienne’s life; it probably seems like it should be easy to do, and in ways it is. But I don’t feel nearly educated enough on how it would be to grow up in France in a rural then urban area with the sort of pressures she had as a young woman and with her different levels of wealth and the way she looked and etc etc to be fair to anyone who may find representation within that and to not accidentally jar them totally out of the experience by the equivalent of randomly throwing a basement in the middle of Texas because who the fuck knew Texans don’t automatically have basements in all their homes?? 

Really, with anything, there is always room for improvement - especially with anything as complex as any aspect of any demographic which inherently then serves as some form of representation for a huge variety of human beings. Humans, being complex beings themselves, will thus have an even larger variety in the way any topic can be seen. What is severely off-putting to one person might be acceptable to another. Sometimes society steps in and is like nah bro, idgaf if you’re cool with that, I’m not. And sometimes it remains so complex that it’s hard to give one exact answer.

What we tried to do was listen to feedback as we wrote and take it into account in the writing of the series itself. Also, especially later in the series, whenever possible we tried to do research as much as possible on whatever detail or topic we had going on to try to be as accurate as possible.

I’m truly not trying to skirt any sort of issue, I just don’t think I can properly say a singular reply to your concern without being unfair to different voices I’ve heard on this topic over the years. If I had never heard directly or indirectly from people that they specifically appreciate the representation of the characters, if in fact I had only ever heard concerns about them, it would be easier to say we were wrong. But I’m not part of any of the demographics so I can’t speak on behalf of any of them. Thus, I can only listen to what different people tell me, and know that regardless of what I’m told, for them that is truth and thus I respect it.

What I will say is it certainly was not the intention to upset, insult, alienate, or otherwise cause concern for anyone reading the series for anything other than the actual things intended to be fucked up like the things the characters went through and so on. I’m very sorry that the characterization is so upsetting and concerning for you. That really sucks; it takes away from the point of the story and puts you in a place that is deeply uncomfortable. I’m very sorry we put you in that position.

++

RELATIONSHIPS

Actually, I’d love to hear more what you mean by your comment. I have certain inferences I make based on what I think you mean but I don’t want to misinterpret and misrepresent your concerns.

The way I interpret “how the mlm relationships were so clearly hetero? the sex scenes were so straight to me tbh.” is maybe related to the idea of dominance vs submission? Like making an equivalence of that to masculine = dominant = power/strength = top = Hsin, and feminine = submissive = weakness = bottom = Boyd? Is that what you’re suggesting or did you mean something else? I have a lot of thoughts on this subject but, again, I don’t want to ramble on a tangent if I am totally misunderstanding what you meant. Especially since I rambled so much above.

So if you’d like to explore the topic more and would like thoughts/answers/etc just let me know in another anon ask more specifically what you mean, if you can. Thank you :)

I’ll go onto ask 2 for now - I forgot exactly what came up in that ask vs the 3rd ask so I’m not sure how long it will take me to type up a reply. Just in case I don’t finish it today, I wanted to sign this off in the meantime with I hope you’re staying healthy and safe!

[ezilyamuzed]

Ten Years Gone- The Beginning

Description: Ten years ago, your world had changed. Ten years ago, you had met him, leading your life to never be the same again. Time is running out, but is it too late after all these years?

Word Count: 7775

Warnings: Language, Parent’s death, PG teen “cuddle” time. 

A/N: This is the prelude of a new series. I was listening to Led Zeppelin's ‘Ten Years Gone’ while watching the early episodes of Supernatural and got some ideas... Enjoy. 

Any grammatical mistakes are all my own, because I am human. Remember all comments and feedback are welcomed! If you want a tag in future posts regarding this series or other writings please send an ask! As always thank you for reading! Enjoy!   

TEN YEARS GONE MASTERLIST

*Picture and lyrics used are not mine. Led Zeppelin is Amazing.

Changes fill my time, baby, that's alright with me In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be

Your legs were sprawled out along the back seat of your uncle’s ‘70 Chevelle as you hummed along to the guitar rhythm and stared out the window. The trees and scenery were whooshing past in a blink of an eye, but it all looked pretty much the same no matter where you were. The autumn quickly changing the leaves that were now falling to the ground. Trees, trees, dirt, and grass. Hey a rock. Sometimes you turned your sight seeing into a game to see how long you could stare out without blinking before you either got dizzy or your eyes dried out. Your record was to the second chorus of The Steve Miller Band’s “The Joker”. 

“We almost there? I gotta piss,” you whined up to the front. 

Your uncle Danny let out a laugh as he turned his head to the rear-view mirror to see your turnt up nose. 

“We’re about 5 minutes away. You can hold it until then. If not, I’m sure there is a bottle or something back there.”

Although he was not longer looking you still give him an evil glare in response.

“You know it doesn’t work like that Uncle Danny.”

“Well if you’re going to keep talking like a rude little boy instead of the proper lady like I know your momma raised you to be, I’m going to keep treating you like it,” he replied back, turning the radio down as he spoke.

“She tried. It didn’t stick,” you rolled your eyes in a humph.

“If only she could see you now. Hell, 14, starting up high school…”

“Yeah, how many schools will I go to this year? The standard 4 minimum?” you added with sarcasm.

“One, smartass,” you could see him smiling as he looked to you in the rear view mirror. “I’ve worked out a deal with a buddy of mine while I go on a business trip.”

“Ya hunting plants, fruits, vegetables, or minerals this time?” You laughed at your own dumb joke.

“Don’t you worry about that missy,” he replied. “You just keep your head while I’m gone. No getting into trouble.”

“Who ya dropping me off with anyways? They in the business too,” you asked while making air quotes. 

“Yeah, but recently he has stepped back a little. Actually, he’s been watching two teenage boys around your age while their dad also goes out on the road,” he replied before looking back to you again in the mirror. “And I don’t want to hear about you getting into no trouble with those or any other boys. Ya hear me?”

“Ew, no,” you face twisting in disgust.

“Yeah, you say that now. Soon enough though, you’ll be just like the rest of us and find that special someone that turns ya all stupid enough to want to spend the rest of your life with em.” 

You rolled your eyes again as you slumped back further into the seat, keeping you eyes on the road signs as the passed by. Sioux Falls, North Dakota 10 miles ahead. Ten more miles until you can finally stretch out properly. Ten more miles until you might get to sleep in real bed, in a real house, something you hadn’t done for almost three years.

It had been an unusually warm fall that year. With your birthday approaching, your mom and dad were busy setting up everything for your party. Uncle Danny had taken you out to pick out whatever gift you wanted- a butterfly knife with dusty rose handles. He of course argued with you, but with his vast collection of knives that you had always admired, he agreed as long as it stayed a secret between the two of you. He even had an interesting symbol etched into the blade. It was a little star that looked like flames were coming out of every corner. He said it was extra protection, whatever that had meant. After grabbing ice cream he had driven you home, only too see the door wide open with no answer. He told you to stay in the car, but of course after a few minutes you stopped listening. It was your home. Why would you have to wait outside? That’s when you saw what he wanted to protect you from. Both of your parents, ripped to shreds by what looked like an animal. There was no animal in sight though. You don’t even remember exactly what else happened that day. There were sirens and people in uniforms everywhere. Neighbors of course being nosy and gawking at the scene. What you remembered was your Uncle Danny holding you close and telling you that everything would be okay. And you believed him.

Up until now, he had tried his best to juggle everything- his job and raising you were not easy tasks. You got into fights in school quite a bit, but with the fact that you were leaving it in a week or so to go to another, who really cared? There were nights when you were all alone, waiting patiently for him to return, always wondering in that back of your mind if this was the time you’d lose him too. He always came back though, a little beaten a bruised perhaps, but always with a smile. 

Eventually he finally told you where he was going during all of his trips. Fighting ghosts and other monsters sounded ridiculous to you, but eventually you realized he wasn’t kidding. He was a hunter- he saved people. And that made him that so much cooler. Over the summer he had started teaching you how to shoot and what things to look for. You had already became really good with a knife, learning little tricks and that with the one he had bought you. He had an old notebook that was filled with drawings and descriptions that you tried to memorize, the ink wearing away with each use. You asked if you could join and help on a case, but he would always tell you that it was no place for a kid to be which was complete bullshit. You could handle yourself. You weren’t scared. But with all your protests, he would not budge, thus bringing you to here.

“About 5 more minutes until we’re at Bobby’s,” he stated while turning left down the road. “Hold on to your bladder just a little longer.”

You re-positioned yourself to stare out the window to see if anything was at least interesting around this guy’s house. Nope. Trees, fields, and a couple houses every once in a while. Great - middle of fucking nowhere U.S.A.  You caught the sight of what looked like the after effects of a tornado. Cars and junk everywhere with a little house in the back. 

“Welcome to Singer Salvage yard.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you moaned.

“Hey, language.”

“Sorry,” you muttered before speaking up again. “But seriously, you are LITERALLY leaving me in a garbage dump. What the hell am I supposed to do here? Get tetanus?”

“No, you’re going to get an education and have a normal childhood,” his voice sounded angry. “Now I know it’s not pretty, but Bobby is a good friend. He will watch out for you and make sure you have everything you need.”

“I’m going to need a bath,” you mumbled under your breath.

When the car finally came to a complete stop and the dust from the ground settled you were able to get a better view of the place. It was alright, probably looked better on the inside. Well, at least you hoped. Still a shithole. There was another chevelle parked alongside it that was just like your uncles, but more on the run down side. Next to it, a sleek black Impala. That was probably Bobby’s car. Hunters always have a thing for muscle cars. Sturdy, reliable, fast, or “American made” as your uncle liked to state. Whatever the reason, they were nice to look at. 

Two men walked out of the house with solemn looks on their faces with two teenage boys trailing behind. You followed your uncle's lead and climbed out of the car to the fresh air. 

“Danny, it’s been a long time,” the dark haired man with a gruff voice stated while extending his hand for a shake.

“ Way too long Johnny,” he replied while shaking his hand before moving to the bearded guy with a baseball cap. “Bobby, thanks for doing this.”

“It’s no trouble at all. There’s already two hellions, what’s another?” He chuckled as he looked over at you staring down to the ground, pushing your chucks into the dirt. “You must be Y/N.”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a tight lipped smile. 

“This is my boy Dean, he’s just a little older than you and my boy Sam who is just a bit younger,” John stated, while guiding the boys closer with his arm, although they clearly could care less.

“Dean, could you and Sam help Y/N inside?” Danny spoke up. “I know I’ve been making her wait to use the restroom, so I’m sure she’ll be grateful to know where it is.”

Dean nodded his head and grabbed at your two bags in the backseat before walking past you to go inside. Sam following. You rolled your eyes to your uncle and trailed behind to your new life- at least for now. 

You were wrong about it possibly being better on the inside. Nope, it was a shithole too that was covered with books and empty liquor bottles. The decor covered by a pound of dust and cobwebs resembled something like a real house, something someone used to care about. 

“Toilets over there,” Dean nodded down the hall while tossing your bags down before he flopped himself on the couch.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you walked down the hall.

Surprisingly the toilet was at least semi clean, although there was enough hair trimmings in the sink to resemble a small animal.

After finishing in the bathroom you walked out to the living room area. Dean was sprawled out on the couch with a comic book and Sam was sitting on the floor next to him with an old worn down book. Out of place and unwelcomed were the nice ways of saying how you felt at that moment. After grabbing your book bag, you sat down at the kitchen table all alone, not knowing what else to do, but to stare at the walls.

“You boys helped Y/N find her way,” you heard your uncle's voice say as he entered the room.

Dean nodded as he turned the page on his book. Sam looked back at him, following his queue. Your uncle approached you, sitting himself down at the seat next to yours.

“See, it’s not that bad, right kiddo?”

Even though your head was down, you looked up to him through your lashes, rolling your eyes just a little towards the two boys.

“You’ll be fine,” he smiled. “Just give it a little bit and I’m sure you will all be getting along just fine when I come back.”. 

“How long?” You asked although you could guess the answer already.

“Not sure kiddo,” he grabbed your hand and held it gently. “But I’m going to call every Sunday night after dinner time to check in on you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Just come back to me okay Uncle Danny?”

“You be good Y/N;” he said as he returned your hug back before standing up again. “I’ll see you soon kiddo.”

He never promised that he would come back. It was a promise that he couldn’t make. He knew it and you knew. He always said that he would never make a promise to you that he couldn’t keep. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

You watched as he shook Bobby’s hand by the front door, turning to give you a loving smile before leaving out the door to go to the next job that awaited him.

“So, how about you boys actually show Y/N where her room is.” Bobby stated firmly, causing Dean to roll his eyes as he slapped the comic book shut. “You two know how it goes around here. We’re not savages. Now get going.”

“Yes sir,” the two of them mumbled as they got up from their spots. 

Both boys each grabbed one of your bags, still not saying anything really directly to you as they walked up the stairs. Bobby was standing with his arms crossed watching them closely as you followed behind them. 

“This one is where Bobby sleeps,” Sam informed you while pointing to a door. Dean and I are in this one, and you’re the last one down the hall.”

“Yeah, lucky you,” Dean scoffed. “You get your own room.”

“Lucky me,” you stated back with sarcasm. “I get to live here with you.”

Dean turned his head to you with a glare before he opened the door and switched on the light. It was a simple room, surprisingly organized and clean. It was almost like someone had cleaned it recently. 

“This was Dean’s room,” Sam informed you, making you feel a little guilty about displacing him. It wasn’t like this was your choice though.

Dean tossed the bag he was carrying down onto the bed with a thud. Sam chose to use the gentler approach of setting the bag he was carrying on a chair in the corner.

“So what’s your story,” Dean asked as he sat down on the corner of the bed.

You shrugged, as you moved through the room, checking out the view from the window. 

“You travel with your uncle,” Dean stated. “So where’s your parents?”

You turned and looked back to him silently, not really wanting to talk about the tragic backstory of your life.

“Okay, don't talk to us then,” Dean rolled his eyes as he stood up. 

“Dead.”

He paused in his steps and turned to look at you, mouth agape. You returned to look out the window again before continuing, hoping you would see your uncles car any moment again to take you with him.

“It’s just me and Danny;” you continued as you looked over to them. “So what’s your story?”

“Mom’s been gone a long time and dad is in the business,” he stated with some sort of pride. “The family business.”

“Doesn’t a family business typically mean that more than one member of your family is doing it?” You snarked back.

“I’ve gone out on hunts before,” he stated in defense. “I’ve seen a ghost before.”

“Good for you,” you rolled your eyes again. “So why did he leave the two of you here then.”

“Dean got in some trouble on his last hunt,” Sam spoke up. 

“What, did you act like an ass to the monster too?” You smirked to Dean.

“That’s a long story,” he said as he started rubbing the back of his neck. “So how long are you here for?”

“Who knows?” You responded. “Hopefully just a few days, maybe weeks.”

“And you’re like what 13?”

“Fourteen,” you corrected him. “I’ll be fifteen-.”

You stopped yourself short, not wanting to discuss or even think about the fact that you had a birth date like everyone else. It was a day you’d rather forget. You finished your sentence with the word “soon” popping off your lips.

“Are you going to be going to the high school with Dean then?” Sam asked. 

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “So What is there to do around here anyways?”

“Read,” Sam replied with innocence, Dean rolling his eyes in response.

“There ain’t much to do, but there’s always something you can find to at least pass the time.”

“Like what?” You asked. 

Dean laughed while nodding outside.

“Well, you like cars?” He asked as you gave him a side eyed glance. “We got tons of em out there.”

“What do you do? Try to fix em up or something?”

Dean shrugged as you all heard Bobby yelling up the stairs to start getting ready for dinner. 

“Don’t keep him waiting,” Sam said as he walked out the door.

“Is Bobby strict?” You asked Dean who was still standing there, waiting for you to go downstairs as well.

“He’s alright, can be strict at times,” he replied back. “He does his best to make sure that we have some sort of normal in our lives.”

“What’s normal?” You rolled your eyes. “Being dropped off with some strange dude in a shit hole.”

“Give it time,” Dean laughed. “It’s not that bad. It’s better than staying in a crumby motel every night alone. ”

You paused your steps to the door as you heard those words leaving his lips. Motel and alone. Well that summed up the last three years of your life. Guess you did have more in common with these two boys besides being dumped off. If they could handle it, maybe it wasn’t going to be that bad after all.

The next couple weeks weren’t that bad. You had started high school with Dean showing you around. The fact that he became somewhat protective of you was probably why you didn’t seem to have any trouble with the other kids. The boys seemed to be scared of him, and the girls seemed to be in love with him. Each Sunday as promised your uncle would call to check in, consistently avoiding the topic of when he would be coming back. It was alright though. You had become so busy with your school work and hanging out with the boys that you didn’t mind it so much. Bobby’s house was slowly becoming your home.

“So to find the slope, you take the difference from the two Y points and divide by the two corresponding X points,” you stated to Dean as the two of you sat at the kitchen table.

“Why do I even care?” He grumbled.

“Well, slopes give you an idea of the rate of acceleration. Like in a car,” you stated. “Say you know that if you start at the end of the driveway and move to the other end in 60 seconds, you can determine how fast you were going.”

“Or I could just look at the speedometer,” he grinned. 

“Smartass,” you laughed as you shoved his arm. “Okay, so you see a Rugalu, and they move from point A to point B in so many seconds. How fast do you have to move your ass to get the hell out of there?” 

“Who says I wouldn’t stay to fight?”

You rolled your eyes to him again. Clearly at this point he was just being a smartass. 

“Fine, you don’t run away. So how much faster do you have to be to gank him then Winchester?” You asked with a cocky smile.

“Just got to be faster,” he replied. “Who cares how fast?”

“Well, let me give you a little insight into physics and biology. You expel more than enough energy for a task, you deplete your energy storage. Making it easy for the other Rugulu to take you down.”

“Okay, point taken,” he laughed. “Math is important. So how did you become so smart in this shit anyways?”

“My dad was a science professor,” you shrugged, before realizing that you had mentioned him for probably the first time ever to Dean besides the fact that he was dead.

“And your mom?” Dean prodded a little further. 

“History professor,” you replied while taking in a deep breath. “Guess it just rubbed off on me. Anyways, do you get it now?”

“Oh, I got it about a minute after you decided to try and help me,” he smiled. “I just wanted to see how far I could get you frustrated before you gave up.”

You smacked him lightly on his arm as he laughed in response.

“You’re a dick,” you laughed. “Why did you want to see me get frustrated?”

“Because I think it’s awesome that even when you don’t know how to help someone, it gets to you so much that you don’t quit,” he smiled. “That and when you realize that you did in fact help someone, your eyes kind of light up a little. You’re a good person Y/N.”

The way that Dean was looking at you as he spoke was so genuine; no one besides family had ever done that before. It made you feel something at that moment. What it was, you weren’t sure. You bit your lip nervously as he leaned over, pulling his text book back over to him. 

“So question 4, find the y-intercept,” he read from the pages.

“You helping Dean with homework there Y/N?” Bobby stated as he entered the room with Sam, both carrying bags of groceries that could probably feed a small army. Or in this case, the Winchester boys for a weekend. 

“Just making sure he gets it,” you smiled back while standing up to help them put the groceries away.

Peering into the bags, there was an item that you had told Bobby in secret that you needed that you didn’t see. He had either forgotten, or was too embarrassed to pick it up. 

“Um, Bobby,” you muttered. “Ya forgot something.”

He looked at you with furrowed brows until it dawned on him. He mumbled ‘crap’ under his breath before exhaling loudly.

“I suppose you need ‘em soon,” he sighed, you nodding in response. He looked over at Dean finishing the last question of his homework and closing the book. “Dean, take Y/N and my car to the little corner store. Be back in twenty for dinner.”

Dean squinted his eyes in confusion as he grabbed the keys from Bobby. You rolling your own eyes that now Dean was going to be very well aware of the gross part about being a girl: your period. 

You trailed behind Dean after Bobby handed you some cash, muttering an apology as you walked away. In less than 3 minutes, with Dean obviously ignoring anything that resembled a speed limit sign you were at the store.

“So what did you need? Make-up, hair stuff?,” he inquired as he followed you in, making you give him a funny look. “Didn’t know if all of the sudden you were trying to look like those other girls in the school.”

“I’d rather live forever in my comfy jeans and t-shirts then to ever be like them,” you snarked back, as you approached the feminine section.

Dean’s eyes followed where yours went, staring at the boxes of tampons with little flowers printed on them. It was not something he knew a lot about, but he knew enough. He reached over and grabbed a box, staring at the packaging.

“I don’t know why they try to make it all fancy,” he pondered out loud. “I mean, a girl can bleed for a few days and still kick your ass. They should have something more fierce on the box. Like a warrior princess.”

You shook your head with a laugh, catching on that Dean was trying to make this would be awkward situation into a joke. 

“My dad used to say that they used these for bullet holes,” he stated while grabbing two more boxes. “We should probably stock up knowing our luck. Who knows, maybe I’ll need some.”

Your laughter died down as you followed Dean to the register when you saw a group of guys looking and nodding over to the two of you with smirks.

“Looks like Winchester isn’t getting laid this week,” the one stated out loud. “Unless he’s into walking the red carpet.”

Johsua Adams. A notorious prick that thought he was God’s gift to women. First day at school and he had already tried, and failed, to have you,the new girl cozy, up behind the bleachers with him.  Dean just sat the products down on the counter, clenching his jaw as he turned to him with a grin.

“No, that’s what your girlfriend is for.”

Josh’s smile faded quickly, his face hardened now approaching Dean rapidly with you standing next to him. You felt Dean’s arm push you back by your waist, surprising you for a second until you saw what happened next. Josh yelled a ‘fuck you’ as he swung his fist towards Dean’s face, Dean almost effortlessly caught him by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“Now you’re going apologize for your remarks and you're going to go back to your little circle jerk,” he seethed, holding him steady as he tried to break free. 

Josh’s friends all moved from their spot, clearly pissed off that their friend was being hurt. Dean shook his head stating ‘uh huh’ as he twisted Josh's arm more to make him yell out. 

“Now I’m going to let you go,” Dean instructed the Josh in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. “And you all are going to leave me and my friend alone, or next time I won’t be so nice.”

Josh nodded his head, giving Dean the queue that he was going to comply. His friends all stared the two of you down hard with anger as they walked out of the store. You had almost forgotten the fact that you were in a store until you heard the onlooking cashier behind you.

“Your boyfriend there is a good guy,” she stated. “Those boys are nothing but trouble. It was about time someone showed them their place.”

You didn’t argue what she had called him: your boyfriend. Definitely not. Probably not ever. But she was right, he was a good guy. You handed her the money as you lead the way out the door to Bobby’s car. The two of you opening the doors and setting yourself in. 

“Where did you learn how to do that?” You asked with enthusiasm, the whole act was something you had only seen in the movies.

“My dad,” Dean replied. “And Bobby a little. Why?”

“Teach me,” you said as your turned your body to him with intrigue in your eyes.

“What?” Dean exhaled audibly. “Why?”

“You really have to ask?,” you sounding surprised. “Come on Dean! There are tons of assholes out there like that, plus knowing how to take care of myself would definitely help with, you know...those other things that we aren’t supposed to talk about.”

“There is no way in hell I’m teaching you any of that,” he looked at you directly with seriousness on his face. “You haven’t had to know what it’s like to fight for your life; you’re lucky and blessed. And I will be dammed if I ever let you get mixed up in that shit.”

“It’s not like I’m not already mixed up in it Dean! Something supernatural killed my parents. Hell, I’m being raised by hunters! Do you really think I will ever just get on with my life and not have that following me?”

Dean growled lowly, as he shook his head. 

“Fine,” he stated as he turned the key in the ignition to bring the engine to life. “But this is between us. If Bobby knew, he’d kill me.”

“I promise.”

“And leave Sam out of it too. That kid is going to be a doctor or lawyer someday.”

“No problem,” you agreed. “Thanks Dean, for you know, what happened in there.”

“ Anytime,” he said as he pulled out of the spot and drove down the road. “He had it coming to him anyway.”

“And I know why you’re scared to teach me how to fight Dean.”

He glanced over at you with confusion, making you smirk in return.

“Because you know I’ll be able to kick your ass,” you replied with snark. 

“Oh darlin,” he shook his head with a laugh. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” 

The next week, Dean and you had figured out a routine on when he was able to teach you. Most of the time it was right after dinner when Sam would be caught up in a book and Bobby would pass out drunk at his desk.

The garage light was enough for you to see what you were doing, and far enough away from the house so they couldn’t hear you.

“Okay, so again,” Dean stated, making you follow his directions in the sequence as he rattled them off. “Left punch, right punch, left uppercut, and a right hook.”

You did as you were told, until he stated to go faster, and then faster again. Dean shook his head in disapproval as he watched. 

“You’re locking your arms too much,” he said as he gripped your right elbow. “You’re going to break something of yours, not theirs.”

His hands moved to reposition your arm, tickling a little as he touched your skin; making you flinch back with a giggle.

“Ticklish huh?” Dean smirked as his eyes grew wide.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you laughed, as you noticed the devilish look in his eyes. 

He reached over as you tried to move out of the way, and furiously tickled you all over in an instant. Your laughter echoed through the room as you tried to get away, but he was not stopping.

“Stop Dean! Stop,” you gasped out in between your laughter, tears now rolling down you eyes. “I’m going to piss myself!”

He continued with his own laughter as you twisted yourself and started to fumble backwards; grabbing onto his arms to bring him down as well as your back hit the ground. 

“Ow,” you laughed again, Dean propping himself up on his hands next to your sides, staring down with a grin. “See what you did?”

“Rule number one,” he smiled. “Know your opponents weak spots.”

“Uh huh, and where’s yours?” You smirked as you started to tickle his rib cage. 

Dean moved swiftly and pinned your hands down on the ground with a smirk. Your breath caught in the moment, with your chest rising and falling deeply to catch it. He stared down at you as you looked up to him. The feeling that arose was different, and by the looks on his face he was feeling it as well. He paused himself for a moment, before leaning down and pressing his lips onto yours gently. An act that surprised you at first, but it felt right. Your first kiss. Your first real kiss was happening with Dean on a dirty garage floor, but you didn’t care. You found yourself returning it, moving your lips along with his, opening them just a little as you felt his tongue glide across them. You didn’t really know what to do. It’s not like this was really covered in health class, but you glided your tongue with his, moving them together in sync. It felt smooth, sending a warm feeling down your body as you felt his hand now touching your face, bringing you closer and deeper into his.

“Whoa,” you heard Sam gasp aloud, causing you to both break away and look over at him in panic.

“What the hell Sam!” Dean yelled.

“So that’s what you two are doing,” Sam smiled. “You two are making out every night!”

“Get out of here Sam before I kick your ass!” Dean yelled again.

“Whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Just don’t let Bobby, dad, or her uncle catch you. They just called.” They’re coming back.”

“He’s coming back?” You sat yourself up, knocking Dean back a little in your action. “When?”

“They said they’d be here after school tomorrow,” Sam answered. “So that probably means we will be moving on too.”

Dean sighed out loud and nodded as he stood up, shaking the dirt off of him before extending his hand to you to help you up. As you got up you felt the mixed feelings of dread and excitement. You were going to see your uncle again, but at the same time you were now probably going to lose Dean. You stared down to the ground as you followed the boys back into the house. Dean instructing Sam to keep his mouth shut about what he had seen. You went upstairs to your room, trying to ignore Dean’s glances as you shut the door and flopped down on the bed. The feeling of his lips still lingered on yours as you gentled touched them with your fingers. What was going to happen next?

You awoke from your deep sleep as you heard the sound of your door opening. Glancing at the clock it was just a little after midnight. You sat up and turned to see Dean walking in with a solemn look on his face. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized.

“Yes you did,” you smiled in the dark room, the only light peaking through the curtains from the moon outside. 

“I just thought, since tomorrow we might be parting ways, maybe we should talk about what happened?” He nervously replied.

You nodded as he sat down on the edge of your bed, you sitting up straighter and pulling the covers up to your chest. You could see the hesitation in his face, unsure of what exactly to say. The silence was lingering, only growing with anticipation of what he was about to say fiercely within you. 

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

 You were confused for a moment, but you laid your hand on top of his in reassurance.

“Hey, it’s alright,” you replied softly. “It was nice. Unexpected of course, but I don’t regret it.”

“I’ve just, I don’t know,” he paused again. “I just was trying to keep you away from knowing how I felt about you.”

“How do you feel about me?”

“I like you Y/N,” he confessed as he looked at you. “I mean, it's hard not to. You’re someone who genuinely cares about people, and I didn’t want you to get hurt when I had to leave again.”

“What makes you so sure that you will have to leave?” you asked. “I mean, maybe they’ll let us stay here for a little longer.”

“Doubt it,” he sighed. “You don’t know my dad. He won’t care. The only thing that matters to him is taking care of Sam and finding what killed my mom.”

“But what about you Dean? I’m sure he cares about you.”

Dean shook his head, you catching the sight of a lingering tear fall down his face. 

“I was happy once before, not too long ago. I had a semi normal life away from them with someone I cared about, but he didn’t care and I couldn’t leave Sammy.”

“Dean,” you found yourself reaching for his face to look at you. You searched in his face to find whatever guilt he was holding back. “Tell me what happened.”

He sighed again as you dropped your hand down. His eyes searching for an easy way to tell you, possibly scared at your reaction.

“You know how Sam told you I had screwed up on a hunt? Well that isn’t true. I got myself in trouble and found myself at a boy’s reforming home. I got to go to school, do normal teenage things, and I had met someone there that I think I might have loved.”

You just found yourself nodding, although the last part hurt just a little, but you could tell it was still something he was still hurting from. 

“Anyways, my dad showed up after months even though he knew where I was the whole time and made me come back. He was angry and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then of course I thought of Sam. I’ve been protecting that kid my whole life. I couldn’t walk away from him.”

“I understand,” you whispered. “But Dean, you do know that you can be happy again. No one knows what tomorrow will bring.” 

“How is it that you always know the right thing to say?” he chuckled softly.

“Because I’m awesome,” you smirked back with a soft laugh. 

“Yeah, well I’m going to get back to my room before Sammy realizes that I’ve left,” he said as he started to get up, but you grabbed his hand to stop him.

“If this is really possibly the last night I get to see you, I don’t want you to go,” you confessed as you let your grip fall. “I don’t know exactly whatever it was that I felt earlier, but I don’t want to give it up yet.”

Dean looked deeply into your eyes as he moved to crawl under the covers with your assistance of pushing them back to allow him access. He laid his head down on the pillow next to you, gazing at you, moving the hair out of your face as you mirrored him. You nuzzled your face into his hand as he cupped your cheek. He was hesitant, but you moved your face closer to his. Biting your lip a little before you leaned in and felt his soft, full lips on yours once again. He followed your lead and before you knew it, you felt the same warmth as you did before now hitting harder as your lips moved together by the light of the moon. It was a feeling you never wanted to let go of as you pushed your lips on his harder. His hands now resting on you, one holding your head steady, the other caressing your hip. It tickled a little, the way his hand touched your skin, making you moan just a little, wanting more. His lips moved from yours, trailing along your skin and down to your neck as his hand moved from your hip to your heaving chest. Through your clothes you could feel him grasping your breast gently, not wanting to be rough. You didn’t  know exactly what had pushed you in the moment, but you pulled away from him and lifted off your shirt to leave your chest expose to him. You wanted to feel his skin against yours as he watched you with wonderment in his eyes before crashing his lips against yours once more. His hands were now all over you, feeling every inch of you as you continued. His lips moving to discover new spots on your body and the pleasure-filled reactions they ensued from you. It could have been only minutes that it continued, but it felt like forever until the kisses and touches started to slow down. Dean looked into your eyes, as he pulled away with a deep breath. 

“I think I love you Y/N,” he confessed. “And I don’t want us to do anything that neither of us are ready for just because we may never see each other again.”

“I think I might love you too Dean,” you smiled back. “And I agree with the one part, but I know this; we will see each other again. When we’re both ready, perhaps a bit older, things will be different.”

“You always know just the right thing to say,” he smiled again as he pulled you into his arms to lay your head on his chest.

“Goodnight Dean,” you yawned as you nuzzled into him. 

Dean placed a kiss on top of your head, not allowing himself to fall asleep right away. He wanted to hold on to this feeling just a little longer as well because tomorrow, he knew it was all going to change. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you heard Bobby yell out loud, snapping you awake in an instant.

Dean sprung himself up from the bed, leaving you to cover yourself up with the blanket. A look of fear and panic in his eyes.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bobby demanded. 

Dean held out his hand to try and calm him down, but it was not working.

“Bobby, it isn’t what it looks like,” Dean pleaded. “We didn’t do anything. We were just talking and I fell asleep.”

“Her shirt was off, and you just fell asleep?” Bobby looked at Dean with disappointment. “Do I look like an idjit to you? Now the two of you get dressed, in your own rooms. You have school and then your dad and your uncle will be here after.”

“You’re not going to tell them are you?” you asked in a panic. 

Bobby glared at the fear in Dean’s and your eyes as you awaited his answer.

“I’m supposed to be watching the two of you, and Dean you know better,” he glared at him hard. “I for sure ain’t saying shit to them. But you listen to me, this stops now or so help me I will kick both of your asses into next Tuesday.”

“Yes sir,” you both nodded in reply, feeling a little sense of relief. 

“Now get dressed,” Bobby stated as he walked out the door. 

You took in a deep breath and exhaled out as you turned to Dean who was almost out the door. 

“Dean?”

“You heard him, get dressed,” Dean said gruffly before walking out, shutting the door behind him. 

Dean hadn’t said anything else to you as you silently ate your breakfast and on your way to school. He was completely ignoring you now, even when you tried to speak, he chose to go the other way or say something to someone else. How he was acting was hurt, but you tried to just let it go, knowing he probably was just protecting himself and you from what awaited when you walked through the door after school. 

You saw your uncle and John sitting there waiting with Bobby. None of their faces really looked happy. 

“Dad-“ you heard Sam say as he walked in behind you.

“Time to pack your bags boys,” he instructed. “We’re moving on.”

“Yes sir,” you heard Dean state as he started for the stairs.

“Where are you going?” You asked out loud, making them all look at you in disbelief that you would even question what was happening. 

“Say goodbye to Sam and Dean, Y/N,” Danny stated as he stood up and gave you a small hug. “It’ll be awhile before you see them again.”

“This is bullshit,” you exclaimed. “Why do any of them, any of us have to go anywhere? What to live in the back of a car or a crappy motel, not knowing if any of you will ever come back?”

“Danny, settle down that girl there,” John advised.

“No, fuck you, ya prick,” you spat out, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. “They’re happy here, we all are. Bobby may not be our family, but he’s been here. He is at least trying to give us a normal life. Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

You felt guilty after hearing your words leave your mouth, as you looked up to your uncle. He had tried to be there, he just couldn’t. You now realized why he had brought you here in the first place. He knew he couldn’t do everything you needed. He was really trying to give you the life you deserved. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you cried to your uncle before you ran out the door.

You plopped yourself down on the ground, tears flowing down your face. You heard the sound of gravel moving under someone’s steps, but you didn’t flinch. 

“That was some speech you gave in there,” John’s rough voice stated as he sat himself down next to you. “I can see you’ve really become attached to my boys and this place.”

You just nodded your head, feeling anger and resentment towards the man next to you.

“Me too,” he confessed. “That’s why they’re coming with me.”

You looked at him baffled, not understanding why he was even talking to you after what you just said.

“Your uncle is a strong man. One of the best guys I’ve ever known. He is doing right by you in letting you stay. I’m not as strong,” he sighed. “I need them around. I look at them and on my weakest days I can see my Mary in their faces. It’s what keeps me going as I try to figure out what happened to her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I feel like everything has been sugar coated for you for probably way too long,” he replied. “What happened to her, what happened to your parents, well someone has to stop it.”

“My parents…”

“We’re not sure if it’s the same thing, but we sure as hell won’t stop until we find it and kill it,” he answered back. “I know it’s a tough life for all of you kids, but you’re getting older now. You should know. Dean, he has been in this for so long, he knows what is expected. Sam, well although I’d like to keep him out of it, this has been his whole life. This is just what happens. You say your goodbyes and move on.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“You will,” he smiled. 

You both heard the door of the house swing open and shut, Dean walking out with a green duffel bag with Sam behind him. He paused as he looked at you both, unsure of what was happening. John looked over at you and Dean staring at each other, as Dean put his head down and helped Sam into the car. 

“They’ll be alright Y/N,” John stated, making you turn your head to him. “And so will you.”

He got up from his spot and brushed the dirt off of him as he walked towards his sleek black car.

“You boys all set?” He asked. 

Dean nodded as he stood there with the car door open, looking at you with sadness in his eyes. John turned to see you doing the same as he opened up the drivers door.

“Let’s get a move on it,” he said as he sat himself inside.

Dean looked down again, before looking back to you. You mouthed the word ‘goodbye’ as he nodded and got inside the car. The trail of dust they had left behind took minutes to disappear, but as it went down slowly and was gone, you knew they were now as well.

John’s words with everything that had happened replayed in your head. ‘You will’ he said, and at that moment, you hadn’t realized or known just how true that really was.

Tags: (Let me know if you don’t want added!)   @snffbeebee​ @waywardnerd67​ @waywardbaby​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @jaylarkson​ @ladywinchester1967​ @wildefire​ @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @hobby27​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @19agbrown​ @sonotalice​ @drakelover78​ @aloneanddesperate​ @pisces-cutie​ @biawol​ @jamielea81​ @fallininjapan​ @justkending​

[airbender-dacyon]

Life and Kataang Week Delays

So I’ve been thinking about writing up this post for a while now, but haven’t had the chance until today.  Its part explanation as to why there were so many delays and inconsistent updates with Kataang Week and part cathartic exercise for me personally.  If you’re curious about what happened, feel free to read. I think this is more for me than anyone else, but like I said, it also serves as something of an explanation for how I poorly handled Kataang Week this year. 

Before I get into the details, I’d just like to give a huge shout out to everyone who has offered me kind words and support these last several weeks.  It means the world to me.  And I sincerely apologize if I forget a name or two; @kristallioness @thecaroliner @the-rosey-one @s-n-arly  @mindatworkk and @secretsecrettunnel 

And thank you to everyone who participated in Kataang Week or helped spread the word that it was still happening.  

If you’ve followed my personal blog for a while, you know I’m prone to hiatuses due to personal life or more likely, my anxiety/depression.  And while I can more or less manage that outside of the internet, my online presence suffers.  I spent far too long as a recluse back in 2013/2014 hiding away from friends and family in real life by retreating into the internet.  I have no desire to return to those days.  So despite my best efforts, much of this year I was unfortunately unable to maintain a consistent presence on tumblr. 

The source of much of that anxiety was my former warehouse job, which I just very recently left. The work itself was not terrible, but after the first few weeks it transitioned from a 40 hours per week job to 50-60 hours per week.  The mandatory overtime, combined with family obligations, left me with very little time to focus on my personal life.  The pay wasn’t as great as previous jobs I’d held, the benefits were crap, the management was more concerned about hiring new employees than retaining current ones, and overall the experience just left me physically drained and apathetic towards the job/company.

Additional anxiety came from working towards entry into graduate school, just prior to starting said former job.  Although I was accepted into the graduate school of my choice, I still have plenty of work to do before the semester starts in a few weeks.  Again, most everything in my life was put on hold or pushed back thanks to that warehouse. 

And although my exact area wasn’t directly affected, Southwest Ohio has been dealing with a lot this year.  Several tornadoes tore through the region, heavy rains affected farming and roads for weeks, and much more recently, the shock of the mass shooting in Dayton. Again, while none of these have directly affected me, I personally know friends and family who were affected. And while we were fortunate to not have friends or family lost in the Oregon District, we are saddened at the loss of life and terrified at how quickly such a tragedy came about, especially in an area we imagined was welcoming and safe. 

All of what I mentioned above was plenty to deal with, but I think I would have probably been able to keep up with Kataang Week/tumblr had I not been dealing with the grief that I am. 

Around February/March, I learned that an old high school classmate and friend committed suicide. I scrambled to try and remember when we had last spoken and realized that – with the exception of possible, since deleted conversations on facebook – we likely hadn’t talked since graduation several years ago.  I have vague memories of them – I know what they looked like, their voice, their general attitude and personality – but whenever I try to really remember events or exact memories, I draw blanks.  And I think that hurts me as much as actually losing them because in a sense, I’d already lost them in my memories before I lost them in life. 

On a similar note, I’ve learned about other friends I’ve known from high school and college and how some of them have changed and… I’m not sure what hurts worse on that front – uncertain if we’re really friends anymore or that I discovered these developments on my own/they didn’t trust me enough to tell me directly.  Some of them I lost when I became a recluse in 2013/2014, others I don’t really know when.  And I know people grow and change through life, but it hurts all the same.

Within days of hearing about my classmate’s suicide, I learned my last living grandparent – my grandmother – had passed away.  She had suffered from Alzheimer’s/dementia for about five years now, declining with each and every visit until other relatives managed to move her to a nursing home to provide her with better care.  I hadn’t seen her in well over a year by the time she passed due to the distance to travel to where she lived and the next loss I’m going to talk about.  I cried after the fact, but up to and during her funeral, I just felt numb.  

It was these losses that caused the initial delays for Kataang Week this year. 

For almost the last two years, the greatest obligation in my family life was to visit another relative – a member of my immediate family – who was suffering from a rare disease. 

My mother was misdiagnosed with Parkinson’s some years ago and she fought valiantly to maintain her life despite the rather aggressive onset of the disease.  By the time she was reliant on a cane, she had to quit her job and apply for disability.  The next year, she was reliant on a walker; less than a year later, a wheelchair.  As her motor control and strength were taken from her, so was her mind in bits and pieces. She became confused and forgetful more often, slurred her speech and lost her voice some days, among other symptoms. My father and I did the best we could to make our home accessible to her, but eventually even in a wheelchair she became largely reliant on the two of us. 

My Dad shouldered most of her care and for far longer than he probably should have.  After speaking with a neurologist about the possibility of a surgical procedure (deep brain stimulation, I believe – known to help ‘reset’ the brain for Parkinson’s patients and give them independence and motor control again for another 5-10 years), we were informed that my Mom wasn’t actually afflicted with Parkinson’s. 

The disease she actually suffered from is known as Multiple System Atrophy (often referred to simply as MSA) and presents itself as ‘Parkinson’s on steroids.’  It is much less common than Parkinson’s and there is no cure.  After symptom onset, those afflicted with MSA live for an average of 7 more years before succumbing to complications (most often respiratory related) resulting from the disease. 

Eventually it became too difficult to care for her at home and we moved her into a nursing home. So when I was home from school or off work, I spent as much time as I could with my Mom in her new home.  As a result, 10 hour days followed by several hours at the nursing home didn’t leave me with much time for tumblr/Kataang Week this year. 

She sometimes had enough strength and mental aptitude to move herself around in her wheelchair, other times she was still reliant on family or staff.  She made new friends and eventually came to accept her situation.  She knew she was declining and often wondered what she had done to deserve such a cruel fate.

Within the last year, she became almost entirely confined to her bed.  She didn’t have the strength to sit up long enough in a wheelchair for anything other than short trips through the nursing home for her personal hygiene.  On days she was more mentally ‘with it,’ more aware of her situation, she was very depressed with her situation.  The best days were when she could hold conversations and laugh, despite everything. However, the good days increasingly became fewer and father apart.  She began to eat less and simply stare at visitors. 

After almost two weeks of staring with little talking and poor appetite, I had a good day with her.  She was smiling and talking with me.  She ate a decent dinner that evening.  We laughed at funny commercials on the television and family stories.  It was a good day.  I thought things were going to start looking up, getting better.  I wish I had stayed with her longer that night.

I don’t think she ever spoke more than a few words after that night.  The poor appetite and vacant staring returned, interrupted only by an occasional spark of consciousness or smile.  Within a week of that last good day I spent with her, hospice told us she was likely not going to live much longer; she passed not even a full day after hospice told us that.

We had been living in a state of perpetual grief as we watched her slip further and further away these last several years.  But to lose her so suddenly still cut deep.  We were also relieved that she didn’t have to suffer anymore.

My Mom’s rapid decline and death happened in the final weeks leading up to Kataang Week. I tried to get things situated well enough for the week, but I failed.  I appreciate everyone’s support and patience this year and Marie for helping out when I needed it most.  

 o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

TL;DR - Work, weather, and deaths of friends/family piled on the anxiety/depression and delayed Kataang Week. 

So if you’ve taken the time to read all of this, I thank you.  I feel a little lighter now that I’ve written it all out.  And if you made it this far, I’d just like to say – the next time you see your parents or a loved one you haven’t seen in a while, give them a hug.  Tell them you love them.  You never know how much longer you’ll have with them.  Sometimes the death of a loved one is sudden and unexpected. Sometimes it’s an inevitability you’ve feared for years.  Either way, it hurts like hell. 

To end, I’d just like to wish all my mutuals, friends, and followers – and their loved ones – long, healthy, and happy lives.  And again, thank you all for your boundless support and friendship.

- Dan

[emperor-uncarnate]

My Personal Take on a Sonic Movie

Somehow I knew I’d eventually end up doing something like this. With mixed feelings on the new trailer I had to ask myself what I would do if faced with the task of putting together a Sonic movie myself. Grab a chili dog because this might be a long read:

Before I get started, know that I’d make it fully animated. I am of the belief that some things just cannot translate to live action without losing too much of what makes them cool. Sonic with his weird little outfit, chunky cones of quills, and single giant eyeball can’t not be cartoonish. No two ways about it.

The film opens with some small animals hanging out in Green Hill Zone just doing what they do. Seems peaceful enough until a large Badnik swoops in and swallows up some of the unsuspecting critters. The menacing robot is about to haul its animal prisoners away when a blue blur rushes to their rescue. Sonic triumphantly chases the Badnik down, wrecks it, and frees the captured animals trapped inside. After showcasing what his great speed is capable of, the chase/fight scene leaves Sonic at a vantage point from which he can see where the animals were being taken: Robotropolis... aaand... title screen. 

Cut to a bustling urban area styled to look like 90′s San Francisco. People are out and about living their lives under a summer sun. No trace of animal life in sight besides pigeons and pets. This is where we’re introduced to our human lead who we’re going to call Chris (because I don’t care to put thought into it and he can be named after Sonic X’s Chris or Christian Whitehead) who is spending his morning getting ready for work. He can still be played by James Marsden, that’s fine. Anyway Chris meticulously puts himself together for the day in a suit and tie, indicating he’s a real clean-cut, straight-laced guy. The news on his television playing in the background is going on and on about one Doctor Ivo Robotnik and the rapid expanse of his empire. Robotnik is established by the broadcast as a genius inventor of artificial intelligence and advanced robotics who defected from the human civilization to begin his own fully-mechanical one.

Chris heads off to work where we learn he is an agent of the Guardian Unit of Nations (G.U.N.) and is being briefed for a mission with his covert team. With Robotnik’s growing forces posing a threat to the human population, G.U.N. intends to infiltrate one of Robotnik’s island settlements and figure out what he’s up to. Disguised as a team of nature photographers, Chris and his fellow agents travel to the series of islands Robotnik controls and begins their search for one of his secret laboratories. 

It isn’t long before Chris’ team is ambushed by a squad of Robotnik’s mechanical soldiers. The agents are easily subdued and captured by the more heavily-armed robots but Sonic arrives in time to save Chris. Though the rest of his team is captured, Chris is rescued and passes out from exhaustion or getting hit in the head or whatever.

He wakes up some time later to discover a small two-tailed fox watching over him. Initially startled to discover an anthropomorphic creature speaking English, Chris explains he did know about talking animals existing outside of the human civilization but he’d just never met one before. So yeah, this isn’t a story about Sonic traveling to the real human world or of a real human traveling to Sonic’s world; this is a place where animal people and people-people already exist together but almost never cross paths mostly due to geography. Humans have their cities while the hedgehogs and foxes and whatever else live in the wilderness or in small communities. 

Sonic the Hedgehog and Miles “Tails” Prower introduce themselves. Although Sonic was the one to actually rescue Chris it was Tails who got Sonic to stick around and wait to make sure Chris woke up alright. Sonic’s attitude comes across as impatient, not really caring much about Chris and instead desiring to speed off and continue his mission. Tails, however, is curious and compassionate to Chris who turns out to be banged up but well enough to walk. 

Chris is given the chance to introduce himself too but chooses not to reveal he’s actually a G.U.N. agent. He keeps up the charade that he’s just a simple photographer and it turns out to be a safe call: As it happens, Sonic and Tails are not crazy about G.U.N. and its methods. The two accuse G.U.N. of polluting the environment and stealing land from their animal friends. This gives us the sense that while G.U.N. isn’t villainous like Robotnik, it is in no way an ally of nature. Chris feels guilty as he’d never considered what the humans were doing that negatively affected the animal folk around the world. 

When Chris learns Sonic and Tails mean to go after Robotnik he offers to join them on their journey. Sonic resists, not wanting to be slowed down by a human, but Chris convinces them he needs to find out what Robotnik is up to so he can warn his fellow humans. Tails uses his little brother ability to guilt trip his honor-bound big brother Sonic into accepting Chris and the three set off together. Since Chris can’t move like a supersonic hedgehog or a flying fox they head towards Sonic and Tails’ home where another mode of transportation awaits them.

Meanwhile, Robotnik makes his grand entrance and introduces himself to the squad of undercover G.U.N. agents his foot soldiers captured earlier. The agents assure Robotnik holding them for ransom will be fruitless but the scheming villain states he has more significant plans for them. The scene ends with an attendant of the flamboyant doctor informing him “another one has been located.” You might be thinking that’s referring to a Chaos Emerald and to that I say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Back to Sonic and company as they encounter some lesser Badniks... this is where your Crabmeats and your Buzz Bombers come in. Sonic and Tails bust them up (though Tails lags behind a little and is upset he needed Sonic to pick up the slack) and free the animals sealed within, getting Chris to ask why Robotnik would create such machines. The duo expresses that it is because Robotnik (who Sonic mockingly refers to as “Eggman”) must be looking for something and that sending Badniks out into the world is his way to find it. This is when we learn of Robotnik’s roboticization technology that changes animals into robot animals. This scene also serves to show a little more of how Sonic and Chris’ personalities clash; Sonic is carefree, hasty, and won’t hesitate to poke fun at Chris as he struggles to keep up. Sonic’s teasing Chris to speed up while Chris is advising Sonic to slow down now and again.

Eventually the trio makes it to the small hanger that houses the Tornado. They intend to use the rocket-boosted biplane to make way to Robotnik’s hidden lab (though Sonic reiterates he’d prefer running) but they are cut off by an obnoxious intruder. Knuckles the Echidna causes a ruckus outside that prompts a quick tussle with Sonic. The blue hedgehog’s speed clashes with the almost comically formidable strength of the red echidna while they argue. Apparently Sonic’s conflict with the Badnik at the very beginning of the movie drew Knuckles’ attention away from the Master Emerald, a hulking jewel of immeasurable importance he was supposed to be protecting, and it is stolen by an unknown thief as a result. Sonic insists it was Knuckles’ own fault for not keeping a closer eye on the Master Emerald but the thick-skulled echidna won’t listen. While they both believe Robotnik to be the culprit it doesn’t stop them from trading blows.

They slug it out until a new Badnik arrives and interrupts them with whirring chainsaws and blazing flamethrowers. This destructive robot clearly made for deforestation puts up a good fight but is ultimately taken down by Team Sonic thanks to Tails’ engineering prowess coming through in the clutch. Between that and getting a closer look at the Tornado, Chris is impressed that such a young fox could have such an impressive intellect. He notes that it is not common knowledge among humans that the animal folk could be so smart. Apparently the humans see the animal people as more animal than people, but this isn’t news to Team Sonic. It seems they’d always been disregarded by humankind or otherwise seen as uncivilized. What racists.

Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Chris talk things out and piece together some information to get an idea of what Robotnik’s after: the Chaos Emeralds. According to Knuckles there are six Chaos Emeralds that are linked to the Master Emerald and they contain mysterious powers even Knuckles himself isn’t aware of. Chris notes that Robotnik’s recent increase in military fortitude may be due to his possession of one or more of these Chaos Emeralds as power sources. 

When Knuckles says he might know the location of a Chaos Emerald, the gang decides to split up. The Tornado was conveniently damaged in the fight against the last Badnik so Tails and Chris stay behind to repair it. Sonic and Knuckles volunteer to head into the mountains with the hopes of recovering a Chaos Emerald from a temple there.  Elsewhere, Doctor Robotnik gazes down at the five Chaos Emeralds it turns out he’s already collected. He sends a group of Badniks to the mountains to recover the sixth Chaos Emerald he’s located (not knowing Sonic and Knuckles are already on their way there) while he gathers his G.U.N. prisoners for an experiment. Here he reveals his roboticization machine had previously only worked on animals but its latest iteration could also affect humans. Robotnik activates the machine and the G.U.N. agents are painfully converted into subservient robots one by one.

Tails and Chris have some downtime they spend venting. Tails is discouraged because he’s not as good a fighter and still needs Sonic to protect him. Chris reminds Tails that one, he’s still a child and will become stronger as he grows up more, and two, that his brains are a much more valuable asset anyway. Then Chris himself gripes about Sonic being right about him needing to loosen up, and Tails tells him it’s not so bad to wing it and take risks sometimes. It’d be cool if this was also where Tails got to telling Chris about how he first met Sonic. You know, for exposition. 

Cut to the mountains where we get an opportunity to see the fun ways Sonic and Knuckles travel up the steep cliffs using their powers. They’ll also have a chance to fight the big ass flying Badnik Robotnik sent before they do indeed find a Chaos Emerald, perhaps one that’s not green. I want Sonic to ask something like “if it’s an Emerald, why isn’t it green?” so Knuckles can say “not all sapphires are blue” or something to that effect. I imagine Knuckles to be a little dense but not unintelligent, if that makes any sense.

Sonic and Knuckles return to find Robotnik himself patiently waiting for them. Having already ensnared Tails and Chris, Robotnik offers their freedom in exchange for the last Chaos Emerald. Knuckles accuses Robotnik of stealing the Master Emerald, which he scoffs at and denies. Robotnik also announces that he knows Chris is really a G.U.N. agent, much to the surprise of Team Sonic. I think this scene should also briefly address Sonic and Robotnik’s dealings in the past: Sonic’s destroyed some of Robotnik’s machines before this moment but he’s never gotten the chance to battle Robotnik himself. As it stands, Sonic’s barely on the mad doctor’s radar and he’s presently seen only as a minimal threat.

After agreeing to the exchange and getting Tails and Chris back, Sonic makes a reckless move to go after the Chaos Emerald and runs straight into a trap. Robotnik captures Sonic and ferries him and the last Chaos Emerald back to Robotropolis while Tails and Knuckles are left with Chris. Tails feels hopeless without Sonic around and Knuckles won’t trust Chris since he was outed as a secret G.U.N. agent. All seems lost until Chris admits his guilt and apologizes in an emotional rant. He promises that if they can beat Robotnik he’ll do whatever it takes to get humankind to be more environmentally not shitty to the animal folk. The genuine nature of his speech sways both Tails and Knuckles who fire up the Tornado and get ready for action. The three of them are dead set on getting Sonic back and keeping Robotnik from using the Chaos Emeralds. The forests and jungles slowly turn to wastelands which in turn become rusted industrial parks as far as the eye can see. The Tornado zooms into the polluted skies of Robotnik’s manmade nation using some stealth modifications Chris was able to put in place. The spy tech begins to fail as they get close, however, and Robotnik scrambles a pack of fighters to shoot them down upon noticing them. Tails and Knuckles hold them off in some aerial combat while Chris crash lands the Tornado into the heart of Robotnik’s lair. 

Sonic is in locked in some kind of sciencey tube (which is busy scanning his DNA and designing Metal Sonic... but we’ll save that for the sequel) until he’s broken out and the four heroes are reunited. Robotnik defends the six Chaos Emeralds he’s collected and villain-monologues his plans to use them with his roboticization machine to turn everyone on the planet into robots. Perhaps Robotnik will rant a little about the shortcomings of organic existence and why he believes machines will be the superior form of life on the planet, yadda yadda.

Getting Sonic free is a small victory but now the quartet of protagonists is cornered by Robotnik and the roboticized G.U.N. agents. Chris reminds Sonic he can’t destroy the robot agents if there’s any chance they can be transformed back into flesh and blood, causing Sonic to have to learn his lesson and not rush without thinking into scrapping them. He takes some of Chris’ advice from earlier in the movie and coordinates rounding the agents up in a slower, safer fashion... somehow. Doesn’t matter, the point is that Sonic learns something over the course of the movie. Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles start fighting Robotnik as he pilots a giant mech suit resembling a modernized Death Egg Robot. Tails tinkers with something (insert ‘tiny character with giant guns gag’ here), Knuckles smashes shit, and Sonic literally runs circles around the thing but they can’t fend off such an imposing boss for long. This is where Chris takes Sonic’s advice and attempts to do something uncharacteristically heedless and batshit crazy to win. I’m thinking he gets hold of the contraption containing the Chaos Emeralds and flings it at the Death Egg Robot, causing them to become unstable and explode. The six Chaos Emeralds scatter to the winds in a big rainbow burst that starts causing the whole place to go down in flames. Actually, wait, make it so Knuckles catches one Chaos Emerald (for later).

The roboticized agents regain their free will with the core of Robotropolis failing and board a transport being hotwired by Tails. Chris falls down an opening in the floor into an abyss but Sonic swipes the Chaos Emerald from Knuckles and takes off at full speed to catch him. The Chaos Emerald glows and Sonic’s speed increases to the point where he looks like he’s boosting. He manages to be fast enough to reach Chris and save him from falling to his demise but they both wind up being trapped by the remainder of the building’s collapse. Sonic and Chris close their eyes as they’re about to be crushed but open them to find they’ve been magically transported to safety. They look down to see the Chaos Emerald’s glow fade and can only assume its power was what saved their lives. 

In the aftermath of the battle, Tails is using the Chaos Emerald in Team Sonic’s inventory to track the other ones. Sonic, Knuckles, and Chris are rebuilding the Tornado’s hangar. Sonic is glad to know the roboticized agents are underway to be returned to normal. Knuckles laments the Master Emerald was nowhere to be found in the ruins of Robotropolis. Chris is explaining what action he’ll take upon his return to G.U.N. headquarters that will improve relations between human and animal kind. Team Sonic is cool with that gesture and they thank Chris as their new (and respected) ally. 

Chili dogs is what’s for dinner and everything seems swell until Tails suddenly draws everyone’s attention to his tracking device. According to its data, there aren’t five Chaos Emeralds left to find but six. There were seven Chaos Emeralds total all along but neither Knuckles nor Robotnik knew that (this is our hint at Super Sonic’s appearance in the sequel and a reference to the fact that there were only six Chaos Emeralds in the first game).

Speaking of sequel, the last scene before the credits will be Doctor Robotnik miraculously aboard a space station hidden in shadow. The station is under construction and resembles a Death Egg in progress. Very Revenge of the Sith. His assistant will say something something and with a crazed look in his eye he’ll be like “No, from now on... call me Eggman” and embrace Sonic’s name for him. This will mark a shift in his motivation moving forward: the only thing he wants next to world domination itself is defeating that pesky blue hedgehog.

But yeah, there’s got to be an after credits scene, right? Cut to the Master Emerald being carted away by none other than Nack the Weasel (Fang the Sniper if you’re nasty). 

I imagine the sequel will have Team Sonic reuniting with Chris and a newly introduced Amy Rose (the classic design) to storm the Death Egg and take on Eggman once again. Sonic will have a high-speed duel with Metal Sonic while Tails and Knuckles square off against Nack, who has been hired by Eggman. Metal Sonic uses the Master Emerald to become a raging monster but Sonic uses the seven Chaos Emeralds to become Super Sonic and whoop Metal’s ass. I guess during all this Chris will tango with Eggman himself in some kind of human versus human fight (which somehow seems blasphemous in Sonic media). Amy’s there for comic relief. I’m gonna stop myself here before I do a whole ‘nother one of these hypothetical story posts. And then a third one following the events of Sonic Adventure. And a fourth one following Sonic Adventure 2. 

THE END

[theperidotshade]

hamelin-born replied to your post “Part Three of Ardyn Saves Regis on a Whim (which really needs a title,...”

*quietly loses mind* YES THIS IS SO GOOD YESSSSSS...

This snippet was crammed full of various Crowning Moment of AWESOME moments. I just - gah.

Regis just - just taking in all the small things as they drive through the smoking shell of the city - HIS city. The cat, oh the CAT - I don't know why, but I just. Love that small detail?

And SOMNUS. Somnus, being utterly and totally IN SHOCK at Ardyn deciding to save Regis. In shock, and that - that instant regret, that 'what have I DONE' moment. Was - was Somnus reacting to what Ardyn said about how he loved his brother, so much, more then just about anything?

And Somnus - basically telling Regis to 'make things right'. And - 'our line's greatest folly'? that's - more or less an admission of guilt, of wrongdoing. That is Somnus, admitting that he was /wrong/.

I'm not sure if I want Ardyn to learn of that conversation, or never to learn.

And just. I love the increasing strain that Regis observes in Ardyn as the time goes by. It's just - so very human, for all that the man is decidedly NOT.

Reckless? ARDYN saying something's reckless. Well. That should say something about the entire enterprise.

And GAH. Exploding the dropships via Ullador! Driving /through/ the roadstop/barrier! Just. So many, many good things!

And YES to Regis' realization that 'immortal' is /literal/. And - Regis is a smart man; I'm sure he can think of so many, many ways in which immortality is a literal /curse/. In which - being unable to die is the literal worst thing imaginable.

I wonder - Regis noticed the 'black blood', but does he really GET that Ardyn's blood is /literally/ black?

Wait until Regis sees the Scourge!face. That's - going to be an interesting time.

And love all the little details about Ardyn's Ama! Does - does Regis realize that he's literally talking to another King of Lucis? (once a king or queen of Lucis, always a king or queen of Lucis...) Ardyn hadn't explicitly SAID as much, but - well.

And Regis is just. Giving all the right reactions to the revelations Ardyn is literally drowning him in. And his shock, his horror, it's - helping Ardyn, I think. A little. It's the first time he's told /anyone/ this story, and it's - getting a reaction that helps him.

It's just. Regis is slowly realizing that the thing with Noctis? The so-called 'Chosen King'? The Astrals have /done this before/. This is the /second/ time around, and the first time - well. The first time was no kinder then the most recent iteration. The /first/ Chosen King is sitting right next to him.

/*grins*/ Wait until Regis learns that basically it was Shiva et al who gave Ardyn the order to work with Niflheim for precisely these ends.

Wow, I don’t know what to say. *blushes*

I’m so glad you enjoyed it!  This fic is enormously fun to write, and it makes me so happy others like it too.

The cat thing—okay, I have a bit of a story to tell about that, so I’m gonna put the rest of my reply under a cut.

Fair warning, it involves a natural disaster.

So, back in 2011, when I was still in high school, I lived in an area of the US that gets a lot of tornadoes.  Like, three to four on average every spring and every fall.

March/April 2011 was an unusual spring, though, because an enormous supercell swept across all of the Southern US, including my hometown.  Hundreds of tornadoes touched down in a single storm over the course of three days.

My town was...relatively untouched, although I do have trauma relating to that specific storm.

But the day after the storm passed over, I had to catch a flight to Massachusetts to visit colleges as a prospective student, and the airport I was flying out of was a couple hours away, in the center of the area worst-hit by the storm.

So my mom drove me out to meet my dad at the airport, and we were driving through absolute devastation.  Like, buildings completely gone, debris and rubble everywhere, trees fallen on buildings and cars, standing water in places.

But I don’t remember a whole lot about the destruction itself, other than the horror and shock I felt.

What I remember instead are the little things.  The handwritten ‘sold out’ signs in the windows of every gas station and convenience store.  Branches drifting by in a flooded river.  A dog trotting along the side of the road.  People standing in their yards, looking at where their houses used to be, not doing anything but talking quietly.  Just little, insignificant details that somehow managed to catch my eye.

That’s the feeling I was trying to capture in that scene with Regis—how the strangest things can draw your eye in the middle of all that destruction, and how they sort of seem dreamlike or unreal, but they’re going to be what you remember anyway.

And some of them make you feel better, in a way, because not everything is lost.  There’s still life there.

That cat is going to be one of the things Regis clings to, going forward, because it was just so ordinary in a setting that was decidedly not, and that made it extraordinary.

As for Somnus, well.  Hearing Ardyn say he loved him that much, seeing him accuse Bahamut of using them all, seeing Bahamut flee rather than give an answer—that really struck home to him that he’d made a horrific mistake.  He gave up his brother for reasons that didn’t really exist the way he thought they did, and oh, how that hurts.  And he can’t make it right—but maybe Regis can.

Ardyn is...probably not going to learn about that conversation for a very long time.  Because Regis, now that he has some idea of what Somnus meant, knows that it has to come from Somnus to really mean anything.  Which means two things: 1) it’s gonna have to wait for Ardyn to be in either the presence of the Ring or Somnus’ tom; and 2) it’s going to require more time than would really be readily available to them for a while.

I love writing Ardyn from Regis’ POV for exactly that reason: that I can use little cues to remind us all of just how human Ardyn is, despite his immortality and very, very dubious decisions.

Ardyn’s idea of ‘reckless’ is definitely a bit skewed, lol.  Hence why he uses it only in connection to a stunt that 1) requires him to take his hands off the wheel, 2) involves MASSIVE EXPLOSIONS, and 3) had a significant chance of not working or being only partially effective.

And Regis doesn’t object to that one, mind, because he too likes MASSIVE EXPLOSIONS.  And ramming through things that should not feasibly be rammed through.

They definitely feed each other’s destructive tendencies, self- or otherwise.

Yeeesss, Regis has Thoughts about this immortality thing.  Especially since, mind, he just lost at least two close friends, which he...hasn’t fully processed yet.

The full mechanics of ‘Immortal Accursed’=‘Healer and King who took the Starscourge into himself’ have also not been fully processed yet, which will be fun (not).

Regis is going to come to that particular realization slowly. Right now, he knows intellectually that yeah, Ardyn was probably a King of Lucis, but the things that that means they have in common haven’t really occurred to him yet.  It’s going to be things that become relevant in the days to come, as Regis, Cid, and Cor start salvaging what they can of Lucis.  And, well, Ardyn’s there too, he’s not just going to sit around and do nothing.

Regis’ reaction is actually helping Ardyn, yeah.  It’s—nice, to know that what happened to him is something other people consider wrong too.  That not everyone will side with the Astrals as Somnus did.

And the parallels are really hitting Regis hard already, even if he’s refusing to think about it at the moment.  The fact that Ardyn hasn’t actually referred to Noctis by name or title in this fic yet, you may or may not have noticed, is significant, because all the other players he has named when he’s referred to them.  Noctis is perhaps the only one directly involved that Ardyn doesn’t resent—and yes, I’m including Luna in that, for reasons I’ll explore in later installments.  (Basically, it has to do with the fact that of everyone involved, she is the one following his path—they aren’t necessarily good reasons, but emotions aren’t exactly logical).

And yeah, at some point Regis is going to have to confront the fact that his gods were gunning to destroy everything he holds dear.  It’s—not gonna be pretty.

[scoutshonor56]

Burning Down the House

With a new year upon us, I decided to leave our pouting, petulant, and clueless “president” alone for a while.  I’m at the point where I don’t want this blog to become a regular, though fun and cathartic, critique of this moron’s day to day behavior.  Besides, who can keep up these days?  Certainly I never intended this blog to become solely a political airing of grievances anyways, when started back in November of 2016 - but then, who would have ever envisioned the likes of Donald Trump in the White House?

 So today I’m going to address an issue close to my heart; the wellspring that nourishes my spirit and is essential to the health and well-being of every living thing on our planet – the environment.  You see, I’m a baby boomer who grew up in the 60’s, and was quite the impressionable 14yr old on April 22, 1970, when the first official Earth Day was proclaimed. That year also saw the creation of the EPA, and like most of us from “back then”, I still hold onto many of the ideals of an aged hippie -  

 Those who know me also know I later worked for NASA - another touchstone for my generation - at Johnson Space Center, inside the television/communication contract, for 14 years.  During that time I got to watch the Space Station being built piece by piece, from when the first module, Zarya, went up on a Russian Proton rocket, to the first crew occupation, to its successful completion.

 I still pay attention to our space program as a tax paying enthusiast, although not nearly as much, and thus I watched a fascinating show on NOVA a week or so back, entitled “To Pluto and Beyond”.  It was about the continuing voyage of NASA’s New Horizons exploratory spacecraft, which is now traveling at roughly 37,000mph some 5 billion miles from our planet and still able to send back data and outstanding imagery to its home base here on Earth (taking over 4 hours to do so).

 In a nutshell, when New Horizons was first launched, in January of 2006, scientists and astronomers didn’t even think much existed past what they call the Kuiper Belt (the area in space past the planet Neptune), other than insignificant, floating chunks of minerals and ice of varying size and shape – such as Pluto, now not even an officially termed “planet”.  

 But soon that would change as our telescopes got larger, more sophisticated, and certainly more powerful (such as the Hubble), revealing a wealth of new discoveries and vastly widening out view, and theories, about space past our solar system.    

 In just a little over two years after its successful flyby of Pluto and its moons, sending back stunning and never before seen imagery, project managers were able to plot a new course that would enable the probe to fly past what is now called 2014 MU69, or its more colorful nickname, Ultima Thule (which sounds much more bad-ass!)  

 To go into any detail about the show and this discovery would require a whole different blog, so for my purpose today, let’s just say the level of technology, engineering, and computational math involved in this exploratory endeavor is right up there with just about any other high achievement in man’s history; an incredible display of determination and shear brain power that simply boggles my mind.  Sure, it was just an unmanned flyby, a probe…but successfully plotted over billions of miles, traveling at 37,000mph through orbiting planets, asteroids, and clouds of space debris, where a collision with something the size of a pea could mean instant disaster?  Where the tiniest fraction of miscalculation can put the craft literally millions of miles off course?  In the harshest and most unforgiving environment imaginable?  You may as well try to explain quantum physics to me.

 So what - what’s this got to do with a Talking Heads song... my point is this: excuse me if I don’t buy into this long running campaign of bullshit and misinformation put out by the petrochemical and carbon-based conglomerates, their money-wallowing and soulless lobbyists, and the special interest groups, who for the better part of fifty years have retained a complete stranglehold on our politicians and policy makers.  They continue to control the discussion of our energy sources with fairy tales and scare tactics in support of a technology that is over 200 years old. Let’s dim the lights, roll out the boogyman, and wind him up:

 “It will cost jobs!!  The transition to renewable and clean energy is too expensive, the sources unable to compete in today’s economy!!  The technology and infrastructure have yet to be fully worked out!!  It’s much more difficult and complicated than you can possibly understand!!  It’s simply going to take more time – it will be a long, slow process, and oil and gas will continue to play a dominant role in the meanwhile!!”

 And on, and on, and on…

 Bullshit!  Germany now gets 40% of all its energy generated from renewable, clean sources.  There are other countries in Europe harnessing tides to generate energy.  Our planet is a hotbed for thermal energy potential.  A recent study done here in Houston, at Rice University, claims Texas (who leads the nation in wind generated energy) has enough sun and wind to completely wean itself off coal within the near future.  

 Since when did America become the nation that couldn’t; that shied away from a challenge, technological or otherwise; that chose to follow instead of lead… was I stoned during that period?  Did I miss something?  Fifty-eight years ago, President John F. Kennedy stood at a podium at Rice University Stadium and declared:

 “We choose to go to the Moon!   We choose to go to the Moon...We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too.”  

 To put this into context, at that time it had been just over a year since America had launched their first man into space: Alan Shepard riding a Redstone rocket 116 miles into suborbital flight, lasting fifteen minutes.  Back then NASA scientists and medical professionals didn’t even know if a human could survive such a trip, or for how long.  Would they retain their vision, their mental capacity?  Would they lose all sense of direction?  Pass out? Would they be able to endure and function during the required long duration flight to the moon and back?  How would we even achieve such a feat?

 OK, some might say, “Well, sure, NASA had a limitless budget - and after all, the space race was strictly for nationalistic reasons anyway, to beat the Russians to the moon…”

All true, but umm, have you looked out your window lately?  Pay attention to any news?  And no, Fox doesn’t count.  According to a recent analysis, published in the Journal Science (see the story in the NY Times), our oceans are warming far more quickly than previously thought; like 40% faster on average than a United Nations panel estimated five years ago.  Researchers now conclude that ocean temperatures have been breaking records for several years straight.  Compounding the effects of our melting polar caps, warm water also takes up more volume than cold water, resulting in sea levels rising at an estimated rate of .13 inches (3.2mm) over the last 20 years.  Satellite measurements tell us that over the past century the Global Mean Sea Level (GMSL) has risen by 4 to 8 inches.

 Right now, over the last decade, we are seeing an increase in the number and severity of hurricanes, monsoons, tornadoes and wildfires.  NEWS FLASH Gomer and Thelma Lu, this isn’t a conspiracy perpetrated by greedy and alarmist eggheads in lab coats, nor is it “fake news” or fuzzy science; and it certainly shouldn’t be considered, or treated as a political issue.  It’s rock-solid, provable science that is accepted by 97% of scientists, climatologists, and geologists all around the world, who continue to ring the emergency bell. It’s happening today, all around us, and the bad news is we’re already too late; at this point, if we were to get serious this year, 2019, it will still be a game of damage control; of mitigating the consequences of our greed, ignorance, and gullibility.  

 In comparison, the goal and challenge of beating the Russians to the moon seems quite miniscule to that of restoring and maintaining the health of our little blue lifeboat called Earth.

 “Whatever, our planet is a dynamic, ever changing thing - Earth has gone through similar climate changes before!”   Yes, true – but over the span of tens of thousands of years, you moron.  Man has achieved the same results in barely two hundred.  

Just curious, but what part of 2.5 million pounds/second of co2 pouring into the relatively thin, fragile layer of atmosphere that protects our planet don’t you get?  Too hard to think about, or conceptualize?  Or is it easier for your lazy, flabby, unexercised brain to simply believe that it all just dissipates into outer space – you know, where the alien abductors that beamed you up into their mothership that weekend reside…

 Make America Great Again?  What a sad, short-changed, and utterly empty joke of a campaign slogan… Here, I’ve got one for you: SAVE OUR PLANET!  For your children’s future and their children’s future.  There simply is no option; no magical, last minute solution.  No plan B.  No spare planet accessible, sorry, this isn’t a movie - its real.  

 I simply don’t understand; why isn’t this the number one issue of concern for everyone?  Could there possibly be a greater threat and more important challenge facing us all today?  

 Ah well, what the hell – we’ll all be fine in a couple thousand years after we evolve with gills and become aquamen and women… Although, good luck finding something to eat, as we’re also killing the entire food chain of life in the oceans, from coral reefs to the dolphins, the sharks, and the whales…I guess we could become aquacannibals – now there’s a surefire idea for a hit movie!    Hmm, I wonder if we could talk Jason Momoa into that hard turn in the movie series plotline…  

[josephvaldez6-blog]

Why is car insurance mandatory but human insurance isn't?

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Can be performed" "In case a 16 year old gets an older 2-door car will Our car insurance increase?" If a 16-year gets an older 2 door auto will Our car insurance increase?" Whereis an excellent spot to proceed if have cavaties no dental insurance right now? I'm taking a session off (enrolled in college but not presently attending) and i graduated h.s. And my dental insurance take off my moms program. They found 2 cavities plus they I would like to obtain them taken of before i disappear completely to school care can there be anywhere i may choose cheaper or that might accet options that were paymnet in a partial -inexpensive price?" Why is car insurance mandatory but human insurance isn't? You people really think car insurance pays for anything? I recommend you to visit this internet site where one can compare rates from the best companies: http://insuretips.xyz Is there any Auto Insurance corporation that doesn't cost attention? 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I'm a fresh, young driver, and in order to reduce the price of auto insurance I'm considering the Black-Box (I am conscious of the advantages and disadvantages). Nevertheless, when locating a...display more" Auto insurance charge... roughly? I'm thinking about obtaining my dads 1971 Plymouth duster as my vehicle after Iam 16, what could the annual expense be and 15?" Simply how much do insurance costs fall after one year for youthful individuals? I am a 17 year old guy and spending 125 a month when you would ever guess its a large attack to my bank account. May my charges fall in the next year of course if so by how much although im on my moms policy?" Miguel's insurance provider repair costs 80% of value. Continual $8000 worth of injury what was importance of car.? The insurance carrier repair of Miguel prices 80% of-value. Experienced $8000 worth of damage what was price of car.? Pupil health insurance...please help? Since becoming independent, so, I am searching for my first healthinsurance. What's an acceptable sum for the value per office visit as well as the deductible premiums? I truly don't know...cheers for any advice. i'm the full time student btw and i'm 19 female" Medical Insurance for 20 yr old in NJ.? I reside in New Jersey. I am 20. I havent since i was about 15 had health insurance, and I stay with a friendis household since I've no parents. Is there anyhow I will get medicaid or any type of inexpensive insurance? I study that Medicaid is just open to handicapped, seniors, and folks with children. Do i have another choices if thats accurate? (My mom had medicaid and that I was on her behalf policy before she died). Likewise, health is offered by im in college full time, although not in a college, hence the faculty doesnt. Any opinons/info is valued." Insurance for 16 year old? I switch 16 and acquire my permit in June(I'm a man). I'm going right through People on my father's strategy that has 5 cars onto it previously, and getting a 2003 Toyota Rav4. Simply how much will impact and responsibility charge for me personally?" Why is car insurance mandatory but human insurance isn't? You people really think car insurance pays for anything? I recommend you to visit this internet site where one can compare rates from the best companies: http://insuretips.xyz

[casskaykingston]

over the edge of the cliff:

cass ; saturday, september the 23rd. 10 PM.

tw: horse accident, tw: verbal abuse

All things considered, it was a wonder that it took him this long to get to this point. For a man who wasn’t him, Cassidy Kay Kingston III, an advocate for his home, a good man in a storm, a beyond competent horse rider with a huge, bleeding heart of gold - for a man who wasn’t all that, this breakdown would’ve probably happened years ago. The giant spiderweb cracks in the foundation of his strength of will that had been chipped at and exacerbated by his fathers words were due give up the ghost and let him finally, finally fall. One by one, they’d been adding up over the years. The emotional abuse of his teen years, strained by the icy silence of his early to mid twenties, the earth rocking fight upon his return, the lectures and backhanded comments that fell on his back even now, had methodically hacked away at the strains of Cass’s sanity and well being. This most recent thing, with Amelia? Had only twisted the dagger his fathers words had been driving into his heart all this time, led him to a tipping point that the man himself could not see. After all, one is blind to the affairs of their own heart and the direction their lives are headed until it’s staring at you right in the face.

In that bar on that Saturday night, one would be hard pressed to find a man in there with an opinion of himself lower than the oldest Kingston’s was that night. No one there knew him, knew that the chaotic mess of his insides was a shaky tower that was precariously close to finally tumbling over. What they knew, what anyone who saw him knew, was that this was not a man to be messed with. To do so would be to court bodily harm. Cass sat in the farther corner he could, the only resident of a dimly lit booth with a couple of empty beer bottles on the table next to him. Black shirt, dark jeans, and a navy baseball cap pushed down to cover angry and lost blue eyes. The brim could not cover the slightly purpling areas under his eyes, the skin that under his natural glorious tan that was wan and closer to pale than it had ever been. You can only abuse your body for so long until the affects start to make themselves known, and as in denial about it as Cass was, everyone who saw him knew it. The story his shaggy hair and shaggier beard told was more telling than the one it didn’t. Running on perhaps five hours of sleep from the past three days, eyes strained from hours staring at a computer screen, knuckles from busted from sleepless nights beating the shit of his punching bag so often he had to purchase a new one. The day before he’d received an email from a prospective investor in the B & B who’d pulled out in deference to another offer they’d received - an offer from a restaurant in town whose owner CK was family friends with. How had later that night Cass received a phone call from a father whose critical words judged him for not making the ranch a good enough prospect? How could his fathers sabotage him, and then judge him for his failures to overcome that sabotage in the same day? Cass didn’t know. Couldn’t know. But it filled his heart with feelings of inadequacy and defeat that he’d recently given into.

A brush of a touch against his shoulder and Cass’s sharp blues shoot up, catching the sight of a woman with waist length black hair and a slim curvy figure, the dips in her body an invitation any man would eagerly accept. This one, however, felt a squeeze in his heart at her inviting smile, a betrayal of emotions when his dark side longed to answer her welcoming grin. That betrayal is what spun into fervor the fury he had at himself and his traitorous emotions, a heart that didn’t give a shit about the emotional turmoil he’d just gone through and was still pretty invested in Amy. Amelia Taylor, that brunette tornado who’d stepped with him into the eye of the storm for a while, a time short, too short, severed by the anniversary of a man she’d loved, lost, and still felt a twisted responsibility to. While on one hand, the bleeding half of his soul that believe in an eye for an eye gloried at the verbal assault he’d given her the last time they’d been together, poisoned darts that spread into each others souls, the other hand held the half of his soul mortified at his actions, at what he’d said. For someone trying to distance himself from his father, you sure are acting a lot like him, came the accusatory whisper from that being within, voicing a fear Cass would rather ignore. You still care about her. Still want her. What are you going to do about that?

What was he going to do about that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She’d made it clear her heart held no more room, and Cass deserved more than to be a second class citizen to a ghost. Or did he? Unlike the spectre that haunted Amy, Cass’s was alive and well, a malevolent presence in the shape of his father that spit words that he could call to mind at any moment. Worthless. Pathetic. A shitty excuse for a son. Suddenly, the desperate need to quiet that voice, hell any of the voices inside his head, fills him, and alcohol isn’t enough. He pushes out of the booth, stands. Makes a beeline for the woman who’d propositioned him with words he hadn’t fully heard. “You want me?” Cass demands, low and hard when he finds her just around the corners from the bathroom, surprise and then pleasure flooding her pupils. Her teeth find her lower lip as she nods, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, and the blonde man has to shove the memories of the last women he’d held who had a tendency to bite her lips to the back of his mind. “Good.” The utterance is followed by a surge forward of his head, a rough meeting of his lips to hers in a move he’d never done before. Cass doesn’t do this. He doesn’t kiss strangers in bars, he doesn’t use them as a desperate attempt to drown his inner demons, and he certainly doesn’t do it before asking their name. Whether or not he doesn’t do it, the fact cannot be denied that he’s doing it right now - feeding hurt and anger into a bracing kiss that the woman he doesn’t now eagerly returns. While the mechanics are sound and the motions are familiar, Cass feels dirty. Downright filthy about the fact that no matter how strong the denial was that he wrapped his heart around, she wasn’t Amy. And he didn’t want this. The tall blonde jerks away in as broken a manner as he’d first surged forward, one big, shaky hand wiping at the back of his mouth. “I’m sorry.” He whispers to her, a regretful, apologetic sound that responds to her hurt eyes and pouting lips even as he slaps a twenty on the table and continues to back away.

The disgust at himself and his actions doesn’t leave his abused body even as he calls a car to get him home, the soul deep exhaustion in his body begging, pleading to get some rest as he places scuffed converse wearing feet back on the ranch grounds. Mind hazy from way too many late nights, overstressed limbs and brain, and a beer bottle too many, Cass follows his feet to where they take him, in this case the stables. Jazz, the black and white mustang filly already asleep, flicks an ear up at his footsteps and gives a quiet whicker that reaches Cass (and always will, if everyone was being honest. He’d raised the horse from birth, after all - she worshiped him and he adored her) even through his fog. “Hi beautiful,” he murmurs as he clumsily unlocks the door to her stall, big body folding down next to her. Jazz shakes her mane and lifts her head so it’s even with his in his seated position, brown eyes gazing at the blonde as he strokes her neck and mane, their foreheads pressed against each other. If all had gone well, this would have been how Cass ended his night. The morning sun and Jazz’s nudging would have awakened him the next day, plagued with a hangover and a heavy soul, and it wouldn’t have been the night he’d finally fallen off that cliff. His phone vibrates, an unnatural sound in the calm and nature of the barn, and he fishes it out of his pocket, slides the answer call button in a motion that goes a little too far off the edge of the screen. Cass presses it against his face, doesn’t look at the name. “H’llo?”

“Are you drunk?” CK, the man, the myth, the devil, accuses from the other end of the line. A flinch, physical and in his soul, manifests itself immediately in his son, a stilling of his palm on his favorite horses neck.

“Dad this - I’m off the clock. It’s a weekend.”

“The job never quits, son. Although I’m not surprised - every time I talk to you you seem to always be able to let me down, somehow. If you’re drunk, then so be it. Alcoholic or not, you need to hear this. If you don’t step up your game, actually start pretending to be a man and running this ranch the way it deserves, I’m taking it away from you.”

Cass didn’t just stop then, he jerked - paled, somehow even more, a wave of distress coming from him so strong that Jazz snorted in alarm. No - no - he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It was his now. Mine. A building and business he’d poured his heart and soul into, his future. His birthright. “Dad,” the blonde tries, fails, attempts with another name. “Sir, don’t. I can handle this. I have been handling this, look at - look at the profit margins since I’ve been in charge, it’s increasing every year, the profile in the magazine -”

“I don’t give a damn about any of that. This place is in my name. As long as I have breath in my body, it’s my duty to take care of it. And if I have to remove you from it to do that, then I will. Don’t push me, boy. Because I will not hesitate. Do you hear me? No hesitation. None. I’d rather train someone else than allow you to keep tarnishing Kingston’s good name. So pull your shit together. Or you won’t have any.” A noise, an abrupt hanging up, and Cass is left alone in the stall with a worried horse and a very low sense of self preservation. His heart was beating so loud he could suddenly hear it, feel it stretch to the reaches of his body in a frenetic pace he couldn’t keep up with. The foundations shattered; bedrock crumbled; strings severed; and suddenly all he could do was think of getting away. He tacks up Jazz in a fugue state he won’t be able to remember days, weeks, years from now, walks her out of the barn and swings into the saddle with an ease someone of his mindset was only able to do with decades of practice. The filly, while a bit troubled by the frenetic emotions radiating from her so loved human and rider, was always down for a run, and could sense that Cass was too. Her hoofbeats were quick, nearly prancing with eagerness as he leaned down to open the gate to their largest, wildest field, one that only ended in the thick woods bordering their property. It was ideal for pretending there were no limits to the freedom it presented and a favorite of the blonde man and his horse, a location so familiar to Jazz that the moment Cass pulled it shut behind him she started moving. A lurch, a grasp of the reins and a hunkering down to be as close to her neck as possible, he placed his trust in his horse and prayed for the sounds of her gallops to drown out the demons in his head and heart.

For a moment, all was well. For a moment, it was two animals joined in one in the elegant motion, nearly flying over the ground as Jazz tried as hard as she could to almost fly. For a moment, the joy of the activity almost put him, if only momentarily, back together; before it all fell apart.

A fox, unexpected and caught mid flight home, appears in the horses view as a sudden red coated enemy, a thing of surprise that causes her to stop in her tracks so suddenly Cass can’t keep up. Loss of sleep, slight inebriation, and general exhaustion all work against the big man in teaming up of bad luck and he goes flying through the air, the last moment of consciousness he held before his head collided with a rock and it all went black.

The next occurrences Cassidy Kay Kingston III was not mentally present for as he lay there, blood dripping down his face from the rock he’d collided with, Jazz pressing worried muzzles into his form and whickering. A forgotten text, sent to his friend Mason before it had all gone to hell and he’d arrived at the bar hours before, is the only reason someone knows to look for him - he isn’t discovered until a few hours too many after the incident occurs, his friend having seen the filly in distress and following her to where he lay. Consciousness only comes to him in bits and spurts, a flash of Mason’s worry stricken face, of someone leading a rearing Jazz away, of an ambulance. Of the murmurs of the hospital, Mason calling his sister, seeing Holden’s worried face. 

Severe concussion, bruised and cracked ribs, head injury, sprained arm, extreme exhaustion, and sleep deprivation. Cassidy Kay Kingston III had finally, finally, fallen over his tipping point - for better, or for worse.

@greerkingstcn

@masonxmillcr

@holdenfox

[jodybouchard9]

Renovating During the Pandemic: Should You Move Forward or Stop the Work?

Drazen/Getty Images

When the shelter-in-place orders started rolling out, my 1970s avocado-green kitchen was already half ripped out, in anticipation of our contractor beginning work—with my DIY-enthusiast husband eager to assist. We’ve spent close to a year planning this project.

But everything’s changed now.

Our contractor lives with someone who works at a long-term care facility, where hundreds of residents and staff—a group, sadly, at high risk for COVID-19—mingle every day. The thought of our contractor and my husband sweating it out side by side to pull down a ceiling, lay down flooring, and drag an island into place is worrisome, to say the least.

So we’ve slammed on the brakes, and I’m pretty sure we’re not alone.

We’re lucky, because we just walked away and will go back to this project in several months, or whenever it’s safe. But what if the renovation of your family home came to a screeching halt just when you need it to be done so you can work and home-school your kids in (relative) peace? Or what if the work on your home is deemed urgent—to repair major plumbing or electrical issues, or a leaky roof, for example?

We asked homeowners how they’re navigating their renovation projects in the middle of a pandemic, and a professional contractor offers tips to help you figure out what’s safe and what isn’t.

When to forge ahead and when to pause

There are many factors to consider when evaluating your renovation project, says Tom Ashley, chairman of the National Association of Home Builders’ Remodelers and president of Expand Inc., a home remodeling contractor in Denham Springs, LA.

“For projects already started before these current challenges, some of our clients are asking to hold off until this blows over,” Ashley says. “Others are requesting that we finish as fast as possible. For example, they may have a bathroom out of service and need it to function.”

Most crews have been trained to practice physical distancing while working on someone’s home to protect themselves and their clients, adds Ashley, and the NAHB offers a guide on how to maintain job site safety.

“Some workers may wear personal protective equipment, and some may partition an area of the home and make it off-limits,” says Ashley.

However, Ashley suggests older homeowners or ones with underlying health conditions may want to wait until it’s deemed safe to have workers in your house doing renovations.

Experienced DIYers forge ahead

Laura and Mike Thomason gutted their recently purchased fixer-upper in Dayton, KY, in mid-March, tearing off the back of the building to add a new kitchen. Their original plan was to stay in their old house in nearby Fort Thomas during the rehab, list it on May 1, and move into their newly done property.

While their timeline has shifted, they’re not giving up.

Nothing has halted their project, but with the COVID-19 crisis, they might have to delay thoughts of selling to later this summer, the couple say.

The couple have one mortgage for both homes, plus a blanket loan covering the renovations, and since they’re both still working, they feel financially stable. They’re doing the bulk of the renovations themselves and blogging about their progress, but did hire contractors to do electrical work and exterior siding.

All are working safely, Laura adds. “We’ve been lucky so far. Mike has a wide variety of tradesmen he has worked with for years, who are all following the social distancing guidelines,” she says. “Mike has to have his temperature taken every morning before starting at his job.”

So far, they haven’t had difficulty getting lumber, drywall, and other supplies, although they still need to purchase vanities and lighting.

“We can order online, but I would prefer to see things in person, which might not be possible with reduced hours and limited access to stores,” Laura says.

For some, repairs must go on

On Feb. 6, a tornado blew through Spartanburg, NC, cutting a 10-mile swath of destruction that included Candy Arrington’s 94-year-old aunt’s house.

By the time COVID-19 diagnoses began popping up in the U.S., a restoration team had cut out ceilings, removed carpet and drywall, and dried up water damage in her aunt’s home, says Arrington.

“Several times, the [general contractor] has said, ‘I hope they don’t shut us down,’ but for now, we’re continuing to move forward,” says Arrington. “Being out of her normal surroundings and routine has been very hard for my aunt emotionally. She has been staying with us or with my daughter and her family. My aunt’s house still isn’t safe to live in, since rafters are broken and her living area is open to the attic.”

Most importantly, Arrington says, her aunt isn’t on-site while work is being done.

“My advice to homeowners is to continue with exterior work or work in parts of the house you aren’t occupying, but I would suspend work temporarily if multiple tradesmen are coming in your house daily,” she says.

Loft renovation continues with small crew

For the past 24 years, Keith Lanpher has lived in an 850-square-foot, fourth-floor loft condo in a 100-year-old converted warehouse in Norfolk, VA. Lanpher’s commercial photography studio is on the first floor.

“I’d been putting off renovating my living residence for quite some time and finally signed the contract to get it done in February,” says Lanpher, who had decided to temporarily move in to his studio, which has a kitchen and bathroom.

“The virus hadn’t really hit the U.S. real hard at that point, and didn’t have anywhere near this urgency, so they went ahead and started demolishing the property on March 9. The plan required the place to get turned into rubble,” he continues.

As soon as the walls came down, though, the pandemic took a serious turn across the country.

“I realized we’re going to have a real problem here, and I could even get shut down if we were ordered to shelter in place,” he recalls. “I started to think in terms of ‘Is it safe?’—regardless of what the authorities were talking about.”

Lanpher decided to go ahead with the renovation, partly because his contractor would be working with a small crew.

“They’re taking everything, including safety, into consideration, so I feel pretty confident,” he says. “That doesn’t mean at some point I might not say, ‘We have to shut this down,’ but this guy’s a small business, so I’m going to try to keep him working as long as I can feel safe, and get this done.”

Now’s the time to start thinking about renovating

If you’re thinking about renovating your home this year, this might actually be the perfect time to take the first steps, says Ashley.

“Most renovations require a couple of weeks to a few months to develop plans, determine a budget, and make selections. Most companies can offer some type of virtual meeting to help make the process safer,” he explains.

Homeowners can take photos and send them to contractors to evaluate the project.

“This will end, and those who are already in the process will get to skip most of the wait and move forward to the construction part when the dust settles.”

The post Renovating During the Pandemic: Should You Move Forward or Stop the Work? appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

[damfisker49-blog]

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[doubleshuck]

anonymous submitted:

This is about the dogs again, although I’m unsure if I should still call them that.

I remember a few times where I had that feeling of looking at something incredibly huge when I could only see something small. The dream was the most recent example, but it happened a few times before that – not for years, though.

First, to answer your question, I have connections to the Middle East through my stepmother. She is Iraqi, but has family in Yemen and Jordan. I’ve visited Iraq and Jordan when I was younger, with the rest of my family. I haven’t been since I was fifteen; my dad and stepmum have since visited alone.

A few things happened that I think are close to what you’re talking about.

Continue reading

[This is part of an ongoing correspondence which can be found chronologically here.]

I’m not sure whether I should be relieved or unnerved that this was the kind of thing I was expecting to hear about. The animals that aren’t animals, the discrepancy with time and location, and even the association with storms and unusual occurrences is all what I would expect from something like this. I’m fairly certain I have an idea of what’s going on, but I won’t pigeon-hole it just yet. We live in a very strange world, and it would be a disservice to that if I automatically assumed that it was this particular thing simply because I have experience with it.

In the spirit of an exchange of information, I do have a lot of experience with the kinds of things you’ve described here, and a lot of these experiences occurred while I was living and working in the Middle East. As a rule I tend not to give out locations, so all I will say is that these were different countries to the ones you experienced this in, but despite the difference in location there were many similarities. I have mentioned before that the animal I tend to have the most unusual encounters with are foxes, but I distinctly remember having a similar experience with a pig one evening. Like you, I was quite far away from civilisation, driving up in the mountains. As I turned a corner there was a pig standing in the middle of the road, looking at me as though she expected me. I remember thinking that she was very large, even for a pig, and I also had the same thought that you had – there was no need for her to be there, as the only real reason to keep pigs is for meat, which is obviously forbidden. I slowed and finally stopped, with the pig staring at me the whole while, and once I had stopped I was close enough to see that the pig had human eyes. As soon as I noticed that, she quickly – and I mean very quickly, for an animal of her size and weight – crossed to the other side of the road and vanished down the slope.

The other main thing that your response brought to mind was the relationship storms have to whole situation. I noticed that an extreme amount of rain and thunder storms that I experienced while over there were unlike anything I had ever experienced before – I could never tell if they were unnatural or if this was simply nature’s truest form. Not only were they the most powerful storms I’ve witnessed anywhere, they were filled with odd anomalies. Lightning would move in strange directions; up from the ground, through the clouds, circling around itself, snaking through the sky and seeming to lose its “connection” with the cloud; it would look as though it were attached to nothing, and would simply “fly” around in the clouds rather than heading for ground. The thunder would be deafeningly loud, and I would also catch strange sound patterns in it – laughter was most common, but on rare occasions it would sound as though something was chanting. Finally, I would hear strange things in the rain, too, as though just below the usual hiss expected from heavy rain there was an entire crowd of people all screaming and laughing. All of it would be just below the surface, and as soon as I tried to tune into it properly to try and see if it was a trick of the storm, I would lose it in the noise.

On several of these occasions, I was either watching the storm from my house or place of work, or I was stranded in a doorway or restaurant waiting for it to pass. These were the times where I would see visual anomalies unrelated to the storm, and very often I would see something like you described: it would seem as if a person or people were simply dissolving into the rain. On the contrary, sometimes it would look as though people were materialising from it instead; they would suddenly appear, even though they hadn’t been there before and there was nowhere that they could have appeared from, such as an alleyway. These people, I found, seemed to be washed of all colour and appeared as vaguely detailed black-and-white apparitions. They would very easily blend into the sheets of rain around them, to the extent where, like the noises in the storm, I would be unable to pin them down and see if they were actually there. 

Perhaps the strangest and most unnerving experience was when I was caught out in one of these storms while out for a walk. I was in the nearby town, but it was late and as a result everywhere was closed. It was only myself on the street, and the sky was clear. There was absolutely no sign that any bad weather was approaching. I remember looking up as I reached the outskirts of town, as the stars were always very clear and incredibly beautiful there, and as I did so I immediately noticed that something wasn’t right. Stars are, of course, usually bright, solid pinpricks in the night sky, but these stars were smudged slightly on one side, as though I was looking at them with blurry vision. I rubbed my eyes and realised that that wasn’t the problem; before my eyes the “smudge” on the stars elongated slightly, as though they had small tails, like an incredibly slow shooting star. At that moment I felt two things simultaneously: a visceral kind of terror, and sudden, extreme nausea. I wanted to run back towards my house as quickly as I could, but it was still a half an hour’s walk away, and I felt so sick that all I could do was sit down heavily on the ground. For some reason I couldn’t stop myself from looking up, and the stars continued to move, looking as though they were tilting. As I watched, the sky began to rapidly fill with huge, towering thunderclouds. The stars quickly vanished behind them, and within minutes the rain was coming down so heavily that it stung my skin as it hit me. The one advantage was that the cool water and the stars’ disappearance resulted in my nausea vanishing almost immediately, but even so, I found myself too nervous to move. The amount of lightning in the air was incredible, and I didn’t wish to make myself a target by standing and running out of the village, where I would be the tallest thing around until I reached my house.

As I sat there, I became aware of something strange, just beyond the lights of the town. There was a strong wind kicking up, blowing from behind me, flattening my shirt against my back and racing past me into the darkness. For some reason I stared at one particular area of blackness, with the irrational thought that the wind was “going” to it as though being called. The wind was acting in a very strange way, coming from behind me but also rushing out of alleyways at conflicting angles, sometimes even at a ninety-degree angle to itself. I could see this from the fact that the rubbish bins in the alleyways were being violently dragged out of the alleys and into the streets; up ahead on a side street, I saw several tables and chairs from a restaurant’s outdoor seating also meet the same fate. 

My first thought was actually that it was a tornado. It was the only way I could explain the strength of the wind and the fact that by now, it was undeniably spinning in a vortex. However, it seemed to just be rushing around itself, staying motionless and not sucking anything closer or up into the air. The entire time, I kept my eyes fixed on the blackness, and I finally caught a glimpse of whatever was going on when a large flash of lightning lit up the area beyond the streetlights. I only saw it for the briefest moment, but I will never forget it.

The wind had gathered in on itself, picking up enough dust that it was visible exactly like a tornado funnel. However, it was not in the least funnel shaped: it was humanoid. I could clearly see two separate legs and part of a torso, and as I watched the figure seemed to bend down as though about to take a look at me. As the lightning faded I saw a flash of a hand, and then instinct drove me to close my eyes. I remained sat there, soaked to the skin, my eyes clamped shut, until the storm faded as quickly as it had come, a further five minutes later. I only opened my eyes when I felt the muggy summer heat return, and then I stumbled to my feet and hurried quickly home. As I passed over the spot where I had seen the figure, my feet crunched on the ground as though I was walking over gravel. That part of the road was mostly dust, so I looked down. Glinting up at me were – and this sounds ridiculous, but I assure you it is the truth – dozens of tiny tables and chairs, perfect miniature replicas of those that had been tossed around outside the restaurant.

It does sound a very strange story, but I tell it both in the hopes that it will further establish that we might be talking about the same thing, and also that it might jog your memory as to some of the smaller details, or any other unusual occurrences during storms or your trips to the Middle East. It might seem like some details don’t matter, but it truly is the specifics that get to the bottom of things such as this. I apologise for the length, but I’m sure you know how it is – it really is impossible to discuss such things briefly. Despite the unease I feel recalling these experiences in such detail, there is still a part of me that remains amazed and humbled by it all.

A seemingly random question after all this talk about storms: has your sister ever experienced an anomalies specific to her? Things like paranormal experiences as a young child (that she might not even remember; it might be wise to ask your father or stepmother if you’re able to), imaginary friends that were perhaps very advanced for a young child or apparently not human, any history with out of body experiences (knowing things she shouldn’t as she wasn’t in the room when they happened, feeling as though she’s in two places at once, having memories/viewpoints that aren’t her own, etc), or  has she or anyone else had any experiences regarding a doppleganger, for lack of a better word? I understand if these questions are seemingly nonsensical or prying too much, but it would help solidify my theory if I’m on the right track.

I look forward to hearing any updates you might have.

[zdbztumble]

“Man of Steel” review

My old review of this flick, written when it came out. I stand by it.

Let me get this out of the way up-front; on top of my local critic’s lack of discretion and my aesthetic tastes (more on that later), I am absolutely in love with the original Richard Donner Superman film, and with his cut of Superman II. I am aware that the comics and character have evolved since then, and I hardly consider that take on Superman the only valid one in cinema or television, or the only good one. I can’t honestly say that my affection for the Donner films - for their two romantic leads, their Kryptonians, and John Williams' score specifically - didn’t color my ultimate opinion on Man of Steel, but I was as open as I possibly could be, and I leave any comparisons out of this review. I also don’t feel that I would compare the two takes so much in my head if Man of Steel didn’t feel so much like a repeat.

A common charge thrown at Superman Returns by its critics is that it was too close to the original Donner film; Luthor is the villain again and he has a real estate scheme, Brando was brought back from the dead, Superman takes Lois on a flight over the city, and so on. But Man of Steel feels much more like a retread to me – not just of Superman I and  II (though it shares so many of their basic plot points), but of other recent interpretations of the character, such as the Bruce Timm/Paul Dini animated series and “Smallville.” Compounding the problem, certain aspects of these previous adaptations have since been incorporated into the comics.

I rather liked Superman Returns, and have no problems with its close ties to the first two films. When no one involved in the production made any secret that that connection was intentional, it’s hard for me to understand why that became such an issue for others.  But Man of Steel, precisely because everyone involved with the picture was determined for this to be a fresh start, suffers much more from a sense of “been there, done that." Even worse, Man of Steel, if you were to look at it on paper, has far more potential than its predecessors; it creates more complicated motives, back stories, and feelings for the characters. But very little of that lived up to the potential in my eyes. In every area where Man of Steel shares plot or thematic material with a previous adaptation, I find the predecessor to be superior, often getting a richer stew out of simpler ingredients.

Setting that aside and taking this film on its own merits –I found Man of Steel to be visually bleak and tonally heavy. It has an uneven pace, severe editing issues, a tendency to tell rather than show when it came to anything emotional, a lack of real characterization for anyone outside our main hero and villain, too much crammed in to the ending, and some questionable choices made in that ending.

And yet…in some respects, I was pleasantly surprised.

My biggest concern going in, given what I had seen and read of the picture, was that Superman himself was going to end up a depressed, brooding figure devoid of the charm and confidence that the character typically exudes. Those fears were – partially –assuaged. I would not call Henry Cavill “perfect casting;” I cannot say I found his a stellar performance.  But he did give a very good one, and he did manage to capture that, for lack of a more appropriate term, Boy Scout quality that Clark Kent has. The moment where he comforts Lois as he treats her wounds in the Fortress of Solitude (in all but name) in particular stood out in my mind. It was also neat to see Superman, in costume, testing his powers. Though – and this is a nitpick, to be sure – wouldn’t you think that he would have found out that he could fly by age 33? In short, my biggest fear became my greatest pleasant shock, although I do wish he had more confidence in his interactions with Lois and the military, and I had issues with the depiction of his childhood.

The flashback structure, which has Superman recollecting childhood events out of order, is technically more realistic to how memory works, and for the most part it was effective. I do understand complaints I’ve read that having these flashbacks occur sequentially could have been easier to read. At least one instance towards the beginning saw the gap in the flashbacks last only a few seconds, a very awkward moment.

 I did enjoy the scene where a grade-school Clark has a panicked episode, struggling to control his powers. That one scene alone was all that was needed to sell the growing pains that would come with such abilities. It would have been nice to see a teenaged Clark getting some enjoyment out of his powers, but that’s a fairly minor point. I liked Ma Kent throughout the film. But I had a very hard time with this film’s Jonathan Kent. Part of this problem is just an issue with some technical matter of writing; like the Dark Knight Trilogy, the amount of exposition and theme-stating dialogue in Man of Steel wore me down pretty quick, and Jonathan was the mouth piece for much of it. But Jonathan’s character really bothered me. It’s one thing to advise your son with superpowers that it’s best for him to keep them hidden until the right time: it’s quite another to tell that same kid, since before he’s old enough for his voice to crack, that he will alter all religion, philosophy, and perceptions of man’s place in the universe, and that it was possibly OK to let a bus full of school children – his classmates – die. The amount of pressure he applies to this kid goes to the point where it should be causing some serious damage. This amount of concern – I’d go so far as to say paranoia – also seems to be at odds with the sort of upbringing and morals that the Kents are supposed to instill in Superman, according to the character's own backstory.

I’m going to have to echo every complaint and issue I’ve seen raised over Jonathan Kent’s death. As many have already noted before me, we’ve gone from “all these powers and I couldn’t save him” to “all these powers and I didn’t save him.” On top of the moral issues, which have been sufficiently covered by other reviewers, the set-up for the death feels very arbitrary. Jonathan handing off that little kid to Clark didn’t read as Jonathan trying to mask Clark’s powers; it read as him trying to shepard everyone else to safety before joining them. And if Jonathan could make it over to the car to let the dog out at normal human speeds, so could Clark, and with the other cars obscuring peoples’ vision and the general chaos caused by the tornado, there was no reason not to let Clark grab the dog. Thematically, the death doesn’t seem to accomplish much beyond emphasizing a theme that had already been stated in dialogue over and over; that Clark shouldn’t reveal his powers until the right time. And by “the right time,” Jonathan and Clark apparently didn’t consider anything short of “evildoers with the same sorts of powers as Clark coming to Earth and threatening to destroy it, creating a climate of panic in which no one has any reason to believe that Clark's on the level since he hasn’t revealed himself before now” to fit the bill.

I can’t be too hard on that last point though, because I didn’t feel the film really gave much of a sense of the world’s reaction to Superman. For all the dialogue and all the weight put on that point, the only people who are really shown reacting to the reveal are Lois and the military.

I love Amy Adams, and she’s an amazing actress, but I got very little sense of a personality from this Lois Lane. She and Henry Cavill have some chemistry, but I think the film would have been better served by saving their romantic turn for a sequel. Up until their first kiss, their relationship is one of mutual gratitude and a limited sort of affection; the sudden shift into romance at the end felt very forced. I was also confused as to why Lois needed to be around in the second half of the story. Zod didn’t need to take her along on his ship; he probed Superman’s mind anyway, and Superman's mind had to have contained the location of the pod, the bit of information that we're told Zod took from Lois. The plot demanded someone else be around in Zod’s ship to upload Jor-El and learn how to defeat the villains, but the way in which that figure - Lois - was placed in the ship felt very inorganic, rather like Jonathan’s death. The same applies for Lois being on the plane that flies the pod into Zod’s ship. When it turned out that she wasn’t even the one who activates the Phantom drive, it became really hard to find any sort of justification for her to be there other than to let Superman save her – a note they had already played twice.

My biggest problem with this film in terms of casting was Zod. If Richard Lester undermined the menace of Zod through sight gags and eye rolls, Michael Shannon undermines, not only Zod’s menace, but his believability as a commander through his performance. It’s the first time I can remember thinking an actor was wooden and hammy at the same time. This story has Kryptonian destinies set at birth, and Zod’s was that of the warrior, but I don’t remember anything that said he had to become the supreme general tasked with security of Krypton. Shannon’s Zod doesn’t seem to have any of the charm or commanding presence such a post would demand; he comes off as a foot-soldier, a rather insecure and mentally unstable one. Granted, that did seem to be the point, but Shannon’s performance creates a character who is so obviously off-balance that it’s hard to believe that no one would have suspected that maybe – just maybe – this guy shouldn’t be given the keys to the kingdom. For all the attempts in the dialogue to create moral ambiguity and nuance in our main villain, little to none of it was tangible as an organic, believable feeling; “tell, don’t show” at its most frustrating. This Zod also doesn’t seem to be the brightest tool in the shed: when I want to persuade the son of Jor-El to join me in planetary conquest while probing his mind, I tend not to show him images of his beloved childhood home aflame or oceans of human skulls.

The Codex didn’t seem to be much more than an excuse for the Kryptonians to come a-calling, and once it’s revealed that it’s inside Superman, there’s never any situation that pays that information off. Couldn’t they just decide that Earth was a suitable terraform candidate and move in? As for how their conquest goes; I thought Smallville, Metropolis, and the not-quite Fortress of Solitude getting destroyed all in one movie was too much, especially for a first entry in a new series. The shift in action from Smallville to Metropolis is rather abrupt. I also found the editing in the action sequences terrible. I had a very hard time following anything that happened. And I agree with all the complaints about Superman’s property damage; telling people “get inside” doesn’t do much good when you and the U.S. military end up destroying the whole town anyway (and shouldn’t the army have at least some qualms about launching an airstrike on a town not yet evacuated?) In the finale, the fight moves from the already-destroyed part of Metropolis to the thriving part that is clearly not evacuated, as we can see all the cars lining the streets. I realize Zod drove the fight there, but Superman does nothing to resist this and does nothing to take the fight away from the populated area. I don’t need Superman to fly around fixing and saving every last building and kitten, but shouldn’t he at least be a little bothered by it?

The ending, wherein Superman slays his nemesis, has caused considerable controversy. I read Goyer and Snyder’s explanation and defense of it, and in theory, I accept their decision. However, in execution, I had four big problems:

1.      I’m sorry, but those people in the museum  were the equivalent of the woman who thought throwing herself over her baby carriage was better than pushing it out of the way of the radio tower in Superman  II. If the idea was that the rubble of that pillar had them trapped, then the blocking and the shooting both dropped the ball, because it looked like all they had to do was run forward and to their left to get away from Zod, who was inexplicably holding the heat ray steady on the wall.

2.      Superman had Zod in a headlock, and he can fly; why not just lift Zod out of the museum?

3.      If Superman can snap Zod’s neck –a bit odd when they both can smash each other through buildings without a scratch – he can also break his arms, legs, and back. Leaving Zod a cripple in  prison is extreme, but it’s another choice besides killing him.

4.      The arc Snyder and Goyer described – that killing Zod and ending his race was enough to drive Superman to never kill again – gets no set-up or pay-off. The moral issue that is stated (and re-stated….and re-stated) prior to this is – should Clark expose himself to the world? How to use those powers, the rules and limitations Clark/Kal-El should set for himself, never comes up, nor does any sort of thought on the subject of killing people. And the scream of frustration did not feel like enough to sell the point Snyder and Goyer wanted. Of all the moments in the film that could have used some speechifying, this was a big one. That the loss of all things Kryptonian would be that much of a blow to Superman is a bit hard to swallow anyway when he has no qualms about taking out the Genesis ship – the ship that, as far as he knows at that point, is the only means he has of connecting with his father. There was a comic where Superman – speaking to Mr. Mxyzptlk, of all people – declares why he doesn’t kill, as plain as Batman’s declaration of his One Rule. That this got no mention in the film outside of statements by its makers is rather troubling, and I’m surprised by the defense that it’s gotten.

And while I don’t have a problem with Snyder and Goyer’s  reasoning on this scene, I read an interview with comic writer Mark Waid where he made a good case for not only not having this sort of scene to begin with, but not trying to play Superman as “one of us.” Superman, as a character, is designed to be inspirational, someone we'd like to be.

As I’ve said, I felt the pacing was uneven. For example, the Kryptonian sequence gets off to a very abrupt start, then drags on past its welcome. Tonally, the film doesn’t quite echo the sentiments that the dialogue tries to convey. I didn’t get a sense of “hope” so much as “extremely cautious first steps towards guarded optimism.” The one time I laughed, it was at an inappropriate time; something Zod said while being sentenced made me crack up, thanks to Shannon’s delivery.

 There were also two points about the Kryptonian technology that threw me. I won’t call them plot holes, because I had a hard time catching all the lines in the scenes where these issues came up, so if there’s an explanation, tell me. The two points are:

1.      If those suits of armour are blocking out the effects of Earth’s sun, how are the supervillains able to get super strength and speed?

2.      When Lois uploads Jor-El to Zod’s ship – he’s able to change the atmosphere, open doors, and activate escape pods. I don’t remember any moment where any of Zod’s crew wipe Jor-El from the ship, and the ability to do so isn’t established until Zod pulls out his crystal and commands the Genesis ship to get rid of Jor-El. If Jor-El wasn’t erased, couldn’t he have stopped the terraforming device?

As far as the aesthetics go, some might dismiss these matters as nitpicking; I wouldn’t, but I will concede that it is (mostly) a case of personal preference. The aesthetics of this film are almost completely opposite to my own tastes and instincts, particularly when it concerns a character like Superman. Be it the degree of desaturation in the image, the amount and type of handheld work in the cinematography, the style of editing, the design of anything Kryptonian, or the sort of musical score employed, Man of Steel is just not my cup of tea, and the trailers and previews I had seen were enough to tell me that going in. Again, for the most part this issue is a matter of personal taste rather than actual quality, although I do think the editing is a real problem in the film. I also think that the music is rather ineffective. I haven’t made much of a secret of the fact that I’m not a Zimmer fan, but I can at least recognize, recall, and hum a fair number of his themes from the Dark Knight Trilogy. I can’t recall a single theme from this film. Literally the only piece of music I remember is one note played by the horns in the trailer, and I remember that only because I was struck by how small the horn section of a major motion picture score sounded.

Now, this is a pretty negative review. On a numerical scale, I’d give this film 5 out of 10. Editing aside, I found the film technically well put-together. Despite my total lack of interest in seeing the origin story – again – I did enjoy certain aspects of it, and I enjoyed Russell Crowe as Jor-El. As I’ve already said, I liked the portrayal of Superman himself. This was far from a terrible film. But as a whole, the aspects that struck me most were those that rubbed me the wrong way.

[jaycevandeveer-blog]

Personal Investigation Type 2

Be Me

(1) What is a defining moment in your life and how did it impact you?

There are many moments in my life that have had a massive impact on me. However, there is one main time in my life that really stands out to me. It was the winter of 2018 and this is when my parents got divorced. In the following weeks, my girlfriend of several years and I also parted ways. For the first time in my life, I truly felt alone. I did not have very many friends at school, and I could not really talk to my parents as they were a big part of my struggle at this time. It was a weird feeling. But, this is where I really found out who I am and what I like to do. I was able to really put a lot of focus on myself and growing. It was sad, but it was also extremely freeing. It was also during this time that I was able to meet an incredible group of friends at school. While this time was of course not easy, I am definitely the person that I am today because of this experience. 

(2) What is something new you recently tried and loved?

I recently went on a vacation with just a group of my friends from school and it was an amazing time. We went to Hawaii and I would highly recommend traveling with your friends. Although you should definitely know these people really well and make sure you are all into the same things. Otherwise, things could get kind of awkward with people wanting to do different things.

(3) What makes you lose track of time?

Anytime that I am going on vacation I spend most of my time exploring and hiking through nature.

Let Go

(1) Be fearless! What would you do if you were not afraid?

I would sell everything, buy and renovate a van, and travel the United States for a year.

(2) Where have you found peace? What advice would you give another student on how to manage stress?

I find peace in being outside in nature. I am not the type of person who worries a whole lot, but this is because I constantly remind myself that as long as I am working hard, then things will eventually work out. I also realize that a lot of things in this world are out of my control, so I do not spend time stressing about these things.

(3) What did you learn from your biggest regret? In other words, how did you transform failure into a positive?

I do not have any regrets. I have experiences that I learn and grow from. A failure of mine is when I did not take my relationships with my family and friends very seriously. I used to be someone that just went with whatever happened and did not really appreciate things very much. However, I am now continuously reminded how grateful I should be for these people that are in my life, and how not everyday is guaranteed, so you should treat every situation as if it were your last.

Humility

Humility is the quality of being humble and is an asset for self-improvement and inner well-being. Some of the ways humility is experienced is by putting the needs of another person before your own, thinking of others before yourself, not drawing attention to yourself, acknowledging that you are not always right, and recognizing the areas of your life that need work. Becoming frustrated and angry at losses come with any struggle in life, so it's important we understand humility to become a better person.

(1) What is one of the kindest things someone has ever done for you? that you have done for someone?

The kindest thing that anyone has done for me is honestly just genuinely wanting to be my friend and a part of my life. The fact is that nobody owes you anything and nobody has to put up with you, but there are people in my life that stick with me no matter what happens. I typically try to be there for my friends as much as I can be. I always want people to be able to talk to me about anything and I try and help them as much as possible, or even just listen to them. I would say that is probably my kindest quality I guess. 

(2) Describe a moment in your life where you experienced humility. What were key take-a-ways?

I experienced humility when my town was destroyed by a tornado. An F4 tornado that was over a mile long came through my city in November of 2017. Almost everyone lost all of their belongings and their homes. The tornado came directly down my street and somehow my house was one of the only ones still standing with minimal damage. Not a single window was broken. An entire tree was ripped out of the ground in my backyard yet my house was barely touched. This was a bittersweet feeling. I looked at all my friends' homes get turned into a pile of rubble while all of my things were fine. What I came to realize is just how fast things can be taken away from you. Regardless, we were able to open up our home to people friends who lost theirs, and provide them with a place to live until they could figure out their situation.

(3) What are you passionate about and want to spend more time doing?

I am passionate about a lot of things. I am passionate about meeting people and creating friendships. I am passionate about traveling the world and being able to see places that take your breath away. I am passionate about living on the edge at times and getting that adrenaline rush. And last, I am passionate about design and helping make the world look nicer and be more practical.