#and abject hypocrites

[queer-geordie-nerd]

God, I get the absolute worst people in the notes of my posts.

Imagine being the kind of atrocious human being who says that Jews have a "victim complex" after suffering a pogrom which took 1,200 lives and a concurrent 400% worldwide rise in antisemitic abuse and violence, less than a century after the worst genocide in history decimated two thirds of their population, which they still haven't recovered from, and which is being denied more and more with each passing day.

Imagine being the kind of unimaginable cunt who finds that acceptable behaviour.

Would you say that Black people concerned about racism and police brutality have a "victim complex"?

Would you say women concerned about sexual assault or domestic violence when 1 in 3 are victims at some point in their lives have a "victim complex"?

Would you say trans people concerned about anti trans legislation in health and social care have a "victim complex"?

So why is it, again and again and again, Jewish people facing very real oppression and persecution are seen as fair play to behave hideously towards?

[normalbrothers]

alicent squirming through her abortion while larys is doing all that is sexy. she's male blorbo coded because i want her to go through all that

[woso-dreamzzz]

The Talk II

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda's Powerpoint

It's probably the worst thing you've ever suffered through.

Next to you, Pernille has to smother her laughter as you slouch lower and lower in your seat.

The first part you already knew about. The actual act of sex was something you'd covered a while ago in biology so that was basically like a study session.

The next stuff you'd rather not learn about from your Morsa but Magda was nothing if not thorough as she went through slide after slide of sex positions and how it worked between two girls.

It was traumatising and you could do nothing but stare at the screen in abject horror.

"Alright," Pernille says when Magda gets particularly passionate about one part and you look like you want to melt into a puddle of nothingness next to her," Why don't we take a break for lunch and finish this later?"

"Oh, but, Pernille I was just getting to the part about-"

"That's a great idea, Momma!" You're up like a shot, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste to get away.

"But Pernille-"

"Come on, Magda," Pernille laughs, gently pulling Magda to the kitchen," Give her some time to compute what she's just been told. We've never had a conversation like this with her before."

"Is it informative enough? I think I left something off and I don't want her-"

"Yes, Magda," Pernille says," Plenty informative. You're doing a great job. Princesse, get your fingers out of that jar!"

You huff a little, pushing the jar of nutella away as you lift yourself up onto the counter.

"You know," Magda says, suddenly straight back into lecture mood," Some people like to incorporate-"

"La-La-La!" You say quickly, slamming your fingers into your ears. "I can't hear you!"

Pernille rolls her eyes fondly at you both as Magda attempts to wrench your fingers away.

"Alright you two," She says," Food. Eat."

You practically inhale your food while Magda follows at a more leisurely pace.

"Hey, where are you going?" Magda asks as you hastily put your plate in the sync and attempt to escape upstairs. "We're not finished yet."

"I...er..." You stumble over your words trying to find an excuse. "I've got homework!"

"No you don't. You finished it all before going out with Frido."

"Er..."

Pernille is no help to you, looking down at her plate smiling as you scramble to think of another excuse.

"I'm nearly done anyway," Magda continues," Just give me a sec."

The second time is just as painful as the first as you sit, tense on the sofa, as Magda walks you through sex toys, something that you really didn't need your own mother to teach you about.

But she does it anyway and you know she's doing it because she loves you in her own weird way.

But, still, you don't think you needed the printed out sheet of the list of sites that explored all the nitty gritty of STDs.

It was nice that she printed it but you're pretty sure pinning the sheet to your notes board will ruin the whole aesthetic of it.

"Any questions?"

Magda looks immensely proud of herself, chest puffed out in pride as she comes to the end of the PowerPoint she spent all day working on.

You sit there, bright red, unable to do anything but stare at the little animated hand waving on her questions slide.

"Er...no...That was very...informative."

"Oh...wait! I forgot!"

Magda clicks to what must be her last slide and you groan loudly.

'Remember! The key to a good life is abstinence!'

"That's so hypocritical!" You exclaim," You and Momma have sex all the time!"

"That's different. You're our baby. I don't want you having sex."

"You just made a whole PowerPoint about sex!"

"Yes. Because I don't want you doing it."

You turn to Pernille, gesturing wildly as you sputter.

"I know," She says, patting your head," But just smile and nod. She'll drop it sooner or later."

[messiahzzz]

as much as i dislike the dialogue option that leads to this scene, i genuinely appreciate gale's response. it is easy to overlook what he is actually trying to convey here and is instead commonly dismissed as him being "overdramatic" or as a display of his bruised ego.

player: it was fine. gale: i see. gale: well, fine is... fine. nobody weeps because the weather is fine. no monarchs were overthrown because their ruling was fine. no artworks were burned because they were not masterpieces, but merely fine. player: would you have rather i lied? gale: the dignified thing for me to say is 'no. of course not. forthrightness before all.' but honestly? yes... i would have rather you lied. gale: i'm just a man. an imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power. gale: perhaps it would be better to not shake such a vessel. gale: forgive me. these were already trying times before elminster delivered his missive. now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.

gale is no stranger to introspection. despite having his natural blindspots, he is fully aware of his flaws and imperfections. he lacks an inherent sense of self-preservation, displays impatience on occasion, can be hypocritical, has trouble handling pointed criticism well, and has a tendency to respond in passive aggression if he feels his competence is brought into question. he seeks admiration and is known to not honor his limitations and own safety for the sake of receiving praise.

gale: [...] people have always commented on my confidence, sometimes my over-confidence, and in one particularly cut throat assessment at university - my 'abject and incorrigible self-delusion.'

gale is not blind to how he is perceived by others, nor does he dismiss their conclusions without careful consideration. instead of deflecting he simply takes what they dish out and files it away for later contemplation and inspection.

player: because you acted the idiot. and paid the price for it too. gale: as always, i endeavor to be invigorated by your candour, rather than eviscerated by it. gale: blunt as your summation is - it's correct. i dared to call myself an archmage while acting the apprentice. the hallmarks of a most excellent idiot, unfortunately.

player: i can't say i share the same high opinion of you, gale. gale: always bringing such candour to our conversations. some would think twice about mocking gale of waterdeep, but you just go straight for the gut. nodecontext: playing along, making fun of himself gale: i like that about you. it's one of your rarer qualities, though i fear my ego can take no more of it tonight. nodecontext: cheerfully accepting the brush off, not taking it personally

needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel.

gale craves as mortals do. for relevance, safety, consideration, loyalty, care, acceptance, and love. he's desperate, he's angry, he's petty and hurt and lonely. he's contradictory, and at times inconsistent. he's afraid, he stumbles, he yearns. if he loves, he does so with all his heart but forgets to extend the same love to himself. he gains understanding only to disregard it later. he is absorbed yet devoted. he expects kindness but is bewildered when it is extended to him in turn. he's neither a perfect colleague, a perfect companion, a perfect lover, nor a perfect husband. he's just another human who's trying to navigate and make sense of the world. who is silently hoping for his soul to be handled with tenderness and care, to finally be seen for who he is —no need for performance or pretense — and to be unconditionally cherished nonetheless.

a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.

he knows the burden he carries. understanding that even a momentary lapse in judgment could spell catastrophe if he doesn't exert tight control over his emotions at all times. he knows what is at stake should he lose the composure he painstakingly had to master. a mere moment is all it takes. this self-assessment isn't an "indirect threat" intended to subject pressure on tav or solicit pity, it's a stark acknowledgment of the truth. he is a fragile human, housing powers that should've never been his in the first place.

player: unbelievable. did you ever think what would happen if the tadpole got the better of you? gale: every waking moment. every dreaming moment too. but there was no way out.

he is also keenly aware of how his (former) colleagues perceive him, following his fall from grace.

player: bold. few would dare to reduce a goddess to their 'muse.' gale: i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

this line in particular is one i often think about. it makes me wonder about the extent of information gale received from the outside world after locking himself in his tower for an entire year, setting magical wards so no one but tara would be able to enter. did he hear the whispers? ("shunned by the goddess of magic herself, of course, it was only a matter of time before he flew too close to the sun.") were his colleagues ridiculing him, applauding mystra for cutting off the rot at the source? how did he arrive at the assumption that he is perceived as "the villain" and not the victim?

player: you must have been lonely, with only tara for company.. gale: sometimes. but i imposed it upon myself, after all. i set up enough wards to keep an army at bay, never mind the few colleagues who sought to inquire about my welfare.

or is this solely his own harsh judgment of his folly? that there is no chance anyone would meet him with sympathy, kindness and understanding after what he had wrought. he was too greedy, too impatient — selfish in arrogance, ravenous in ambition. letting delusions of grandeur guide him. he brought it all upon himself with his lack of patience. entirely convinced of his success and skill, blind to the possibility of failure. now doomed to drag innocents into the abyss with him. the hallmarks of a villain, right? after all, who would truly believe him that his ambition hid no ill will?

players: by rights. i should kill you. gale: perhaps that is what i deserve, but you deserve no such thing. [...]

[neuroticbookworm]

Another Thai BL, another Asian parent-child conflict that enrages the audience and yet, is extremely nuanced. I’m gonna try and speak on it as an Asian kid who grew up in the East, but currently lives in the West, carrying complicated feelings on the Asian parenting I received.

I’m seeing a good discourse in the tags from @lurkingshan, @respectthepetty, @bengiyo, @heretherebedork and @williamrikers, among others, on the hypocrisy of a dad who hit his son in anger and is now lecturing him on the importance of controlling one’s actions when angry. I agree with everyone that the dad is being a hypocritical piece of shit. But I do not think that this is a failure in the writing of the show. Quite the opposite, actually. Because of how Ten responds and acts in the face of this hypocrisy.

Ten comes across as belligerent and confrontational in every interaction he has had with his dad, but it is never uncalled for, and he never seeks it out himself. He tries to stay out of his dad and his stepmom/his dad’s girlfriend’s way as much as possible, and only responds in a defensive manner when provoked. And in today’s episode, he even kept himself open enough in the conversation with his dad, despite his anger, to concede and accept a very good point when raised. Ten understands his dad’s hypocrisy but refuses to stoop to the same level of pettiness because he knows being a good partner and a good friend is more important than being right. This is a mark of excellent writing, in my opinion. The main character is fiercely loyal to his partner and his friends and does not let his baggage with his dad cloud his course of action.

I also see calls for an apology from the dad already brewing in the fandom. And I understand the instinct to want that. It is always so satisfying when mistreated children finally get the apology that’s been long overdue. But it’s rarely this simple in an Asian household. Times are changing faster than most people can in a lifetime, and there are systemic, cultural flaws in how an Asian society understands and teaches parenting. And if we factor in the social, economic, religious lines that heavily influence how an Asian person forms their social circle, it would’ve left these parents with little to no peers who can tell them what they’re doing is wrong. Parents striking their kids is clearly considered evil nowadays, but only a few years ago, it would’ve been a perfectly acceptable response to control a bratty child, on and off screen (and it still is in some Asian cultures).

Now, NONE of what I said above is an excuse to write off the behavior of Ten’s dad as acceptable, just because it’s very Asian. As an Asian who grew up in the East, the demand for an apology does not particularly resonate with me, because Ten and his dad both know that their problems are not gonna go away as soon as Ten’s dad apologizes. Because:

If Ten starts demanding an apology for every shitty thing his dad has ever done, where should he stop? Should he demand an apology for the time his dad probably struck him as a kid when he was trying to get him to memorize multiplication tables, as is wont of every Asian parent ever (it is such an ubiquitous experience to Asian kids everywhere that there are reels with millions of views on IG, referencing this experience. Does this mean every Asian parent is evil and must be put on trial by their kids? Holy moly, think of all the money therapists would make if every Asian kid in the world decided to call out their parents on their shit. Entire economies would crumble to dust from the sudden disruption in cashflow.)

Is an apology going to comfort Ten? Asian parenting warps the sense of self of both the parents and the kids, because of the levels of abject sacrifice involved in it. It is extremely possible that Ten’s dad had worked day and night to provide well for his family, for his son, before Ten’s mom fell ill. It’s the same choice he made for his wife, but in this case, it paid off, because now Ten is financially well taken care of, and he is privileged enough to pursue a career in medicine. If Ten demands an apology from his dad for not being there when his mom was dying, do we know for sure that when he gets that apology, his mind won’t conflate the sacrifices his dad made for him, thus making him feel guilty for forcing someone who clearly cared about him enough to work hard for him, into defeat (look at this rich soup of Asian parenting misery, yum yum yum. I know it’s delicious because I’m paying my therapist weekly to make the broth less spicy).

The dialogue in the show whenever Ten’s mom is brought up and discussed is always very carefully worded:

Not “because you did not act”, but “because you took so long to act”. Looks like Ten’s dad made a choice that ultimately did not pay off. He cared, and he wanted to do something to save his wife, but whatever he chose to do ultimately did not help. And now she is dead and he has managed to not help and comfort his wife in her final days AND unwittingly traumatize his son with his absence. The show has painted this storyline with enough nuance that I don’t believe we are meant to read Ten’s dad as a simple villain, but rather a father who does care but has made some serious mistakes. This situation is so emotionally complicated and realistically, it’s gonna take years for both of them to find a middle ground. Ten is gonna have to grow up and make a few mistakes of his own in life to develop proper empathy for his dad, and that’s gonna put a couple things into perspective for him (I’m not saying Ten is bound to make mistakes because he is bad. He is going to because shit happens in life and human beings always do better in hindsight than in the moment). And the dad is gonna have to grow old and let his aging body humble him a little and shrink his ego enough to see that he had failed his son by not being emotionally available to deal with their trauma, together.

I’ve been watching Kim’s Convenience, a Canadian sitcom that follows a Korean-Canadian family and their shenanigans. I’m only on S04E02, but there is a father-son conflict at the centre of this show that is still not directly addressed by both the dad and the son. It’s been years (almost a decade, I think) since the son has been driven out of his home by his dad for a dumb mistake he made as a teen. And the way the show works on it is so infuriating, because it is so Asian. It is rarely addressed aloud in the presence of the dad or the son, lest it leads to anger and screaming and storming off. The path to reconciliation is built with mom calling her son for help to fix something in their home because his dad is too stubborn to ask for it. With the son visiting the hospital when the dad had to undergo surgery, and having their first real conversation in years which the dad forgets after waking up from the influence of pain drugs. With the daughter’s old phone passed down to the dad with her brother’s number on it, which leads to them texting each other. It is all extra frustrating for me because I’m extremely straightforward in my conversations with my parents. I do not like ambiguous endings to verbal conflicts because they are a ticking time bomb and I do not have the capacity to forget its existence and let it tick away in the background. But, I understand it when my friends, and Asian characters in TV shows, don’t want to force things out in the open if it can be swept under the rug for the time being, because peace of mind in Asian households is fleeting and you would be wise to take what you get.

Good TV shows can best serve their audience when they serve their characters, and stay true to the experiences of the people they are trying to represent. My teen ass was regularly shocked, appalled and intrigued by the sexual liberation promised by Western media I consumed while I was in school and college. I was surrounded by a sexually repressed society that was convinced that the only moral way to enjoy pleasure was after marriage with your partner. And very predictably, this means a lot of dead bedrooms, unhappy marriages and kids growing up with no real understanding of what romantic love looks like. I would’ve never had the courage to move my entire life to the West, if the Western media I watched had not represented its people in all their messy, horny glory, albeit with a rose-tinted lens on gender, race and sexuality.

Some Asian parents in media need to fall at the feet of their children and apologize. I remember being absolutely fucking enraged while @lurkingshan and I watched Double Savage at the behest of our friend @waitmyturtles, and in the finale, Korn was the one who fell at the feet of his absolute piece of shit of a dad to apologize for FUCKING NOTHING. And after Shan and I were done surviving that show, I remember telling my friends that most Asian media does not have strong writing whenever Asian children need to defy their shitty parents and come to terms with their destructive parenting, because chances are, most Asian creators would not have successfully done it. Hence, intergenerational trauma (gasp! It’s all connected!).

So. I would never demand to see Ten’s dad apologize to him to consider Cooking Crush a successful show, because that is not the cultural context this story operates in. Would I enjoy it if he does? Hell yes. Would I be mad if he does not? No, because Ten is proving him wrong time and again, and that’s a constant reminder from the narrative of who is in the right.

[wxnheart]

𝙰𝚙𝚎𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 - 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟑/𝟑)

Part 1, Part 2

To fight for an empire that would not even think to fight for you is a fool's errand. It is a foolish choice. And yet he brandishes his sword despite it all. Barbarian. A wild card. An enigma. Words uttered from the lips of the ignorant, thoughts shared amongst the hypocrites. He had never sought acceptance, had never craved it, praise nothing but a blur that passed him by. Until you, spurred by devotion, screaming rejection, convinced him so. He brandishes his sword in the name of the Imperium and makes loyal fools of you both.

Jaghatai Khan

He was an anomaly, even amongst his brothers. In his father's image is he born and in his father's image is he reborn anew. He is Man made merciful, kind, and contrite. He is Man made passionate and... obsessive. The forge burns brightly, fueled by his humanity, fueled by his obsession. An obsession that carries with it guilt. An obsession that threatens to consume. An obsession that inspires him to build. And such is the duality of Man.

Vulkan

He envisioned you and wondered what it meant. He envisioned valor, courage, and righteousness and what he saw did you no justice. And he'd been afflicted since. He met you, envisioned still, and saw valor, courage, and righteousness drenched in blood. And still, they did you no justice. He envisioned you and the flame of his divinity waned and the affliction grew. He envisioned you and rage simmering beneath the beauty, shame blanketing his father's blessed creation, prepared to fall.

Sanguinius

You are a kindred spirit. Your gifts are to be commended. Your mind, though nowhere near as expansive as his, is a maelstrom all its own. In you he sees familiarity. In you, he sees... potential. And so, he harnesses it. To what end, you do not know. You will never know. And so you traverse the infinite corridors of knowledge, intent on going beyond, intent on proving yourself. And your gifts and your mind would be his to know, his to conquer. Without your knowledge.

Magnus the Red

You thought him barbaric, bestial, an animal. He was a warrior through and through, everything the Emperor created him to be. The perfect weapon, one you thought something of but what that comprised, you did not know... until he showed you otherwise. Until you saw precision, a cold ruthlessness under his fanged grin and hungry, possessive eyes and it made your blood run cold in abject fear. And the Wolf claimed his territory.

Leman Russ

Limitations be damned, he pushed you further and further. He crafted you for greatness. He molded you into one of the Emperor's finest. He made you perfect. To his liking. And the Gorgon ensnares his prey.

Ferrus Manus

You spoke of redemption and it gave him hope. And so he hoped. And he fought. And he toiled. And he hoped some more. And amidst the ruins of his father's majesty did he hope still. He pulls you into the darkness, calls you companion amongst the stars, and blanketed in hope, you are made to search tirelessly for redemption. You hope. You fight. You toil. All in the name of redemption. All according to his whims.

Corvus Corax

[lyledebeast]

Sex and The Patriot Canon

For having inspired so many sexy fanfics, The Patriot is a deeply unsexy film in most respects. The only characters who canonically fuck are the parents of the children sacrificed to "the cause." Sex is extremely utilitarian in this film; any romance scene in which one of the participants sighs and says "very well" in a tone of abject resignation is going nowhere very steamy fast.

This has been an inspiration rather than an obstacle to the numerous fanfic writers for whom Colonel Tavington not fucking is unconscionable. But it's been interesting to see how often complaints about Tavington's characterization in fic comes from people who write or prefer to read stories where he has sex, often involving hard kinks, with women. I read these complaints and have to wonder, what character do they think he's out of? The film's Tavington does not so much as look at or speak to a single woman in the whole run time. The Patriot is an extremely male-centric story, but it is not set at sea. Tavington has access to women; he just doesn't appear to have any interest in them.

The only time we see him in the same frame as a woman is right after the militia blows up a ship a few yards away from Middleton Place, and both he and the women in front of him are preoccupied with that! In contrast, we do see both of Tavington's captains, Bordon and Wilkins, chatting with women at the same party and seeming to enjoy themselves. But, as we see in other scenes, Tavington is a bit awkward with even his male peers in celebratory settings. How is his conduct different with Patriot women?

It isn't. He addresses a crowd that includes women, but when Anne Howard shouts at him he does not even acknowledge her presence. The people he tortures for information are both men, at least one is a deserter from the militia. It would have been very easy to include a scene of Tavington sexually menacing a militiaman's wife--he and his men burn eight of their houses--but we don't see that. When Wilkins tells him Ben Martin would send his children to stay with his sister-in-law, Tavington has zero curiosity about this woman. Every time the opportunity for Tavington to interact with a Patriot woman presents itself, he interacts with a man or boy instead.

A fic in which Tavington has sex with a woman, brutally or otherwise, is already making a pretty significant departure from canon regardless of what else is going on. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that! Most fic is canon-divergent in one way or another. If a fic is going to just regurgitate canon in different words, what is the point? But an interpretation of a character in fanfic doesn't become a standard for how authentic that character is in other fics just because it is popular. Maybe those who voice these complaints have something other than Tavington's sexuality in mind, like his voice or his personality: things that could remain canon-complaint even as he does any number of things he doesn't get to do in his far too brief screentime. But for someone who clearly enjoys one kind of canon-divergence to describe other divergences as "out of character" seems a little hypocritical, or at least lacking in self-awareness.

[aikoiya]

I just do not understand the insistence that animals must be sentient.

Because if they were, then why are the animals that kill other animals not labeled as murderers?

Hell, why aren't cats seen as malicious, mini, jigsaw killers considering how they play with their food. Why aren't ewes looked upon with disgust for often trampling orphaned lambs that a farmer tries to get them to adopt? Why aren't wolves seen as bullies for hunting in packs to kill prey? Why aren't dolphins more acknowledged for being effing rapists?

If you believe that animals are capable of reasoning, then that automatically makes all animals that eat meat into exactly what humans that eat meat are, thus they should be looked upon with every bit as much scorn as certain vegans look upon regular ass people. And it'd also mean that any animal that hunts is a murderer.

Hell, many animals are cannibals! In fact, plenty even eat the young of other animals or even their own young if they're so much as lacking in B12!

Literally! Mother hamsters are known to eat her own babies if she's put on an all-corn diet! They don't even have to be dying because of it!

You can't claim that animals are all sentient & then not hold them responsible for their actions! That's hypocritical! Because if these animals are sentient, then they are making the active decision to commit these actions & should be held acountable for them! Period!

Seriously, unless an animal is specifically an obligate herbivore, they will likely still eat meat given the chance!

And, whether you like it or not, animals are only as vegan as their options. As soon as times get tough for a deer, it's gonna be eyeing up any little Tweeties or Thumpers they come across. Same with horses, sheep, ect.

In fact, if animals are as deserving of life & respect as us, then doesn't that make having pets the same as slavery? And how do cat owners even justify feeding their pets? At least those that force their cats into a vegan lifestyle are being consistent even though they're abusing the poor things. Those cats aren't gonna live to be 10 years old on a diet like that & they'll be miserable the whole time.

Like, how do people twist their brains into so many directions just to justify their lifestyles??

Seriously, humans are so freaking unique within the animal kingdom. We are probably the only creatures who would do all this nonsense for the sake of critters that honestly don't give an eff.

Like, dude, whatever. You don't wanna eat meat, then don't. No skin off my brow. More brisket for me! But don't moralize your choice & don't demonize those who love a delicious steak.

Here's what some don't seem to understand; those animals are gonna die anyway, whether it's by the hand of man, a predator animal, sickness, or old age. Their days are numbered no matter what. And, quite frequently, they'll still get eaten. So, in the end, what's the difference if a sheep is eaten by a human or a buzzard or a coyote?

You didn't save that sheep's life. You only postponed the inevitable. Because if you're not the one who eats it, then someone or something else will. You cannot stop it.

And it's likely going to hurt regardless, so saying shit like "anything to reduce at least a little bit of the pain in the world" is just pure naiveté. You haven't reduced the pain in the world even a little. And in fact, considering how a lot of animals don't even care if their food is all-the-way dead as they're eating them, you could even say that that animal might end up experiencing even more pain than if they'd been killed by a human.

And that isn't even taking into account sickness or accidents! How do you know that that animal's last moments won't be spent in complete misery or abject fear??

Because one of the things about humans is that, for the most part, we prefer our food dead-dead before we eat it. And we intentionally go out of our ways to make death as painless a transition as possible, even for the animals we're gonna eat.

If we're gonna keep it 100, ya'll. Humans can be some of the gentlest, most merciful killers on earth.

Hell, we have laws against animal cruelty!

And, the thing is, animals... don't. Period. In fact, most don't make it to old age.

So, in the end, your efforts were meaningless.

[bonefall]

How do Erin hunter and the rest of the researchers find the clans again after they move to the lake territory? Also, what do they think when there’s the stuff with the beaver dam at the beginning of oots—do they know about the journey to get the water back?

"How do the researchers find the Clans after the destruction of the White Hart?"

They followed Millie, attaching a radio collar to her and releasing her along with Graystripe. It was a gamble that paid off; Graystripe displayed too much distress when he was forced to wear it.

It's not their intention to stress out the cats they're trying to study!

The Beaver Dam

I'm not sure if it's situation 1, or situation 2;

Situation 1: The beavers were introduced by an unrelated rewilding program. There were scientists watching in abject horror when the Clan cats left the Sanctuary Lake Reserve to confront the beavers, fearing that they would hurt them and ruin the entire project.

Situation 2: The beavers migrated here from further west, they were hunted to extinction in this area during Hollyleaf's Century and just now they're edging close enough to return.

In either case, it was Dovepaw who realized that the beavers were defending kits inside that dam, and if destroyed, they would just build it again. So instead of just fighting them and moving on, the patrol steals them and brings them back to the lake.

There are now beavers at Sanctuary Lake, defended zealousy by ShadowClan. Dovewing has a very easy time becoming accepted (hypocritically, even, by Berryheart and her cohorts) because of this act of service.

Beavers are sometimes called "Construction Buddies" in the ShadowClanmew dialect.

[sepublic]

Another thing I appreciate about 2003 is the backstory of the Grand Arcanum as an Ishvalan practice that was pretty clearly imperialistic and/or sacrificing its own citizens for the “prosperity” of the culture. And yet this is treated as kind of a frank fact; There isn’t some moment of OMG indigenous people can be evil too!!! So Amestris’ genocide is secretly justified or nuanced!!!

In fact the focus of this revelation was still about white racism, with how Ed’s takeaway was that he couldn’t imagine Ishbalans being capable of advanced alchemy, rather than him realizing Ishbalans Bad too. Because the point is that he’s already operating off of this idea deep down, and that PoC IRL don’t need more reminders by white people about how we’re degenerate.

I like this because you cannot discuss how PoC and indigenous cultures have also done slavery and empires, how you can’t support a PoC spearheading genocide, without Whataboutism idiots who believe in reverse racism crawling from the woodworks to use this as a rallying point to deflect any criticism towards white peoples, because ummm actually PoC do it too this is just a human thing and we’re absolved because of it! Maybe those PoC secretly had it coming!!!

And it’s telling because these people don’t give a fuck that these indigenous empires were bad because of what they did to (indigenous) victims, or that said victims were also slaughtered by white settlers too, even betrayed after making an alliance. They act as if those white settlers didn’t also believe in empire, and that any condemnation of indigenous empires would’ve been hypocritical with they’ve done, did, and would do. They don’t care about victims at all, just making themselves look less guilty as if that’s how it works.

They can’t let PoC have flaws while still having the full range and depth of the human experience, whereas white people obviously do because Not All White People. They can’t be normal about PoC also having problems without being in abject denial over their broken pedestal, or smug because now they can drag us down to their level! Never mind that the issues they bring up are no longer/less relevant, unlike white people’s continued, global-scale imperialism that I’m sure any brown cultures could also do under the right circumstances, but we’re not here about What Ifs are we???

Because when you talk about the actual victims caught between white and brown empires, it makes me think of how the Ishvalan revolution against the Grand Arcanum system wasn’t done by white saviors. It was done by Ishvalan folk who were likely chosen as sacrifices themselves. Ishvalan folk got themselves out of it too.

And those Amestrian dogs deserve to die just as much for their genocide because damn, it’s not like they know about the Grand Arcanum, it’s not as if they have any right to throw stones, it’s not as if genocide is okay under any circumstance. The Ishvalans were allowed to have an f’ed up system in the past without the narrative having them bend over backwards to repent for it amidst persecution, or acknowledge that this is proof both sides are humans too. Fuck those white people for their genocide.

Whites IRL still saw PoC as uniquely and unusually dangerous and not in the same way they as white people also are, so they didn’t take prisoners. White people were so horrified from killing other white people in WW1 that they devised the Geneva convention, and then in the same breath turned around and continued to exploit natives with the exact same ruthlessness, because it can't be a war crime if we're not at war!!! We cannot be good at all without a constant reminder by whites that we’re bad too btw. When white countries pull off a W you don’t have other whites immediately scrambling to remind you of their war crimes, meaning you can’t even enjoy it for a moment.

[qqueenofhades]

I'm glad I found this blog because it has became increasingly impossible to find a progressive-leaning Westerner who doesn't condone a literal GENOCIDE that is happening as we speak.

I used to follow so many American leftists on TikTok, learned a lot from them about the Western imperialism and American White Supremacy, but almost ALL of those people suddenly somehow forgot their own principles and convictions when the war broke out in Ukraine. There is this one creator I used to respect a lot who one day decided to say it is a drama when a Ukrainian woman speaks out against other creator perpetuating Russian propaganda. Said Ukrainian woman got hurt and respectfully expressed this hurt but was met with hostility and vile accusations. Then there was some dude on Twitter who compared the war crimes in Ukraine to gentrification in the US and that tweet got many likes.

For the sake of my mental health and sanity, I decided to forever stay away from American discourse and interact with as few Americans as possible because it is insane how these people can be such cold-hearted, entitled hypocrites.

Thanks, I appreciate that. I will say, however, that I'm not the only one -- all the sensible, left-leaning, Democratic-voting, Cringe Normie Liberals (TM) that I know, both online and in real life, support Ukraine too. I strongly suspect that this is because their brains aren't poisoned with Online Leftism, they are able to look at and assess the situation rationally, and don't feel the need/constant peer pressure to perform Anti-American-Imperialism (and Pro-All-Other-Kinds-of-Imperialism) brainworms like the rest of the Terminally Online. So yeah, plenty of us do exist, but you're probably not going to find them in so-called leftist online space, for many reasons previously discussed. Which is disappointing on all kinds of levels.

Basically, the Online Left was on very thin ice with me anyway prior to all this, but they've really exposed the abject failure of their meme ideology with their whole response to the war in Ukraine, and how it's entirely focused on feeling morally superior to the American establishment/Democratic party, regardless of which atrocities they are required to defend as a result. Shit like this is why I don't call myself a leftist, even though my views/policies would definitely fall on that spectrum, because just like "socialist," I feel like it's become an essentially meaningless term that doesn't convey what I want to mean by it, and is mostly poisoned by a vocal and aggressive minority whose rhetoric is nonetheless increasingly adopted by young progressive-identified people, and that worries me a lot.

[hoodoo12]

Beetlejuice Squared 2: You Asked For It (2/...)

NSFW. Violence and gore.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs.

Instantly panic hit you, flooding you with a rush of adrenaline in preparation for fight or flight. Nipping closely on its heels was rage; you’d kicked him out, and he just had the audacity to saunter back in like the two of you hadn’t had a screaming match the last time he was here?! Then the thought that the Beetlejuice laying beside you was going to think this was a set up, that you’d asked him here and fucked him knowing that the original Beetlejuice was going to show up in some shitty plan to make him jealous ambushed you too, bringing up the rear of this train wreck.

You looked over at Beetlejuice on the bed with you, hoping you could convince him this was a complete surprise to you too. You needn’t have worried. If his knee-jerk reaction was to think you’d organized this, the expression of abject fear on your face convinced him otherwise.

Reading your terror at the situation unfolding made a snarl curl his lip and he pushed himself up off the mattress to go confront his counterpart.

He wasn’t quick enough, though. The other Beetlejuice, the one you’d told to never come back, walked through your bedroom door. Whatever he was expecting to find, it wasn’t you sprawled out on the bed, your only clothing a black garter belt and stockings, looking thoroughly fucked, and a taller, naked version of himself getting to his feet.

“What in the fuck?!” he exploded.

His hair, which had been a neutral green, erupted into red. His scruff and eyebrows did too, as did his eyes. You’d never seen him so enraged.

Automatically you pushed yourself backwards, further up the mattress, away from him.

“You’re fucking behind my back?!” he bellowed. “With this guy?!”

Beetlejuice, who’d conjured himself back into trousers while you had been focused on the demon-shaped personification of rage that had entered your bedroom, stepped forward with anger etched in his face as well and red streaks beginning to show in his hair. But your fear fled in the face of Beetlejuice throwing the exact same complaint you’d had about him back at you.

You started to get up, even as the Beetlejuice who’d just been beside you ordered,

“Back off, asshole–-”

Beetlejuice bristled at that and stepped up against his taller counterpart. “Fuck you–-you pathetic, second rate knockoff–-”

Never mind their exchange of words; you were still fixated on the fact that the original Beetlejuice used the same argument you’d originally accused him of.

“How dare you!” you shrieked. “You’re the one who fucked anything that looked in your general direction! You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants–-you never tried to keep your dick in your pants-–”

“Shut up. Adults are talking,” he replied almost casually to you, flicking his fingers in your direction.

Immediately you found yourself pinned spread-eagle on your back, held by invisible hands. You struggled against them while the animosity passing between the two demons became palatable.

“You lost a good thing, asshole-–”

“You’d’ve done the same thing, dick! Just because you don’t get called as often, don’t pretend you wouldn’t have grabbed at every bit of pussy or cock that you were offered! Fucking hypocrite, you’d have begged for scraps-–”

“You cheated on me you fucker!” you yelled as you continued struggling against the restraints. “I never cheated on you, I told you to get the fuck out of my life! We were done!”

The taller of the two, the Beetlejuice you’d just laid, glanced over at you, a look of slight puzzlement on his face, and the Beetlejuice you’d tried to end things with took advantage of his distraction. He reached forward and grabbed a handful of flesh, the other’s pectoral muscle, and clenched his fist. The yowl would have been enough for you to realize that fingers had punctured skin; the immediate blood that erupted from the site told you that it was nails sharpened into talons that did it.

Beetlejuice continued to cry out, but the noise was quickly becoming less surprised pain and more rage. He grabbed the arm and wrist of the one causing the injury, but went to his knees.

“You didn’t say his name?!” the smooth voice of the Beetlejuice you’d spent the evening with admonished harshly in your ear. “You told him to get out, but you didn’t say his name!”

You’d have slapped yourself in the face if you could have moved. You were so stupid! You hadn’t banished him, you’d been so upset you didn’t think of it! He’d left, and hadn’t shown up for weeks, so it was out of your mind! So now all you had to do was say it! You took a breath–-

–-a final invisible hand slapped over your mouth, before you could get an actual word out, pinching your skin so tightly it hurt and almost covering your nose as well. You struggled now to take a full breath. Unfortunately, Beetlejuice knew the tricks of throwing a voice and wasn’t risking you saying his name and banishing him for real.

“Told you to shut up, baby,” he told you in a sweet tone, with a wink.

Under the heavy hand, you shrieked again, using your throat.

Distraction seemed to be a good tool to use, because while his attention was making sure you couldn’t speak, Beetlejuice from the floor lashed out and knocked his counterpart backwards. It dislodged the grip on him, making blood flow more freely down his chest, but that was ignored. The two grappled for a moment, but from the floor he had a disadvantage and Beetlejuice who was standing managed to twist a hand into the other’s hair, yanking his head back.

A flash of pink rippled through the shorter of the two’s blood red hair, a sign of his enjoyment, and he didn’t hesitate to punch Beetlejuice solidly once, twice, three times in the face. Blood spurted from the mess of a crushed nose, and Beetlejuice’s head lolled a little from the punishment. His hands released the hold they’d taken on his twin and fell limp to his sides. His body followed suit, and for a moment, it looked like the only thing holding him up was the fist still in his hair.

He was released and dropped to the floor dismissively, and the Beetlejuice you’d wanted out of your life crawled up the bed, between your legs. You tried to arch away from him, but your stocking-clad thighs were grabbed. Casually he wiped his knuckles on them, leaving bloody marks.

“You look good, baby,” he cooed. “Wish you’d worn something like this for me.”

You strained so hard against the restraints your limbs hurt. He chuckled, still slinking up on all fours.

“I can’t say I’m super fond of smelling that fucker’s come in you, though-–”

He never dropped his eyes from your enraged gaze, but did lower his head and snaked his tongue through your pussy. You bucked again, hating that it felt good, hating that he knew just how to lick you to make you moan and writhe in pleasure. He ducked down further and put his whole mouth on you, sucking lightly.

You couldn’t help but go lax for a moment, your body betraying you under his mouth.

“Asshole,” Beetlejuice snarled, his smoother voice deeper than you’d ever heard it, and much more similar to the one with his face in your pussy.

You lifted your head; he was still smeared with blood but you couldn’t see the broken nose or split lips that had been so evident before. His teeth were still coated red, however, as he pulled his lips back like a predator.

The Beetlejuice between your legs took one more second to lick you again, then he was yanked harshly off you by his jacket. As he was swung around to face his counterpart, he spit the wet and come he’d sucked out of your pussy into the other’s face.

That escalated it all.

The anger that both had been exhibiting before ratcheted up to a level that made the very air feel electrified. It was two forces of nature colliding, two storms of equal strength battering each other in the confines of your bedroom, while you were trapped, helpless, on a mattress.

You could only see flashes of the two of them; your mere mortal lightbulbs couldn’t handle the surge of power and they flickered, dimming and growing brighter randomly. You half wondered if, while seeing the nightmare visions of the two demons clashing in front of you, your own vision would do the same.

Beetlejuice, still only clad in trousers, must have thought along the same lines.

“Close your eyes, babydoll,” he said in your ear.

His voice, still smoother, was in stark contrast to the horror of shadowy tentacles that seemed to erupt around him.

“Keep your eyes open, baby!” the other ordered, in your other ear, and a new hand gripped your forehead. Instinctually you knew it’d force your eyelids open if need be. “I want you to watch me fucking destroy him.”

Torn between the two, you continued to buck against your invisible restraints. Your throat felt raw. Tears leaked out of your eyes. Your nose started running. You hated all of this.

With the exception of those words to you, the Beetlejuices focused solely on each other. No more human words came from them; in their place were hisses and guttural sounds of some demonic language that put pressure in your ears like you were too far underwater. It was seductive, however, and part of you thought that if you strained, if you concentrated, you could learn to understand it. A more rational part of your brain, the one more concerned with survival, warned you away, it wasn’t truly for human ears. The tentacles you’d first glimpsed were more solid when the light was low; when it flared it just looked like two dead guys beating the shit out of each other.

The taller of the two, the one you’d invited here tonight, had a slight advantage of less clothing to grab, but it also left his skin exposed to the other’s talons. He was a mess of gouges and lacerations, bleeding freely. His wounds knitted closed freakishly quickly, a nightmare in itself, but with so many he couldn’t concentrate on healing while still fighting.

Beetlejuice in his suit, who you didn’t banish properly, had some protection, but it gave his doppelganger something to grip with more force and land more punishing blows: a knee to the face, making the same gush of blood as you’d witnessed before; a twist of an arm into a inhuman position against the joint. His elbow snapped and Beetlejuice shrieked.

You’d have curled into a fetal position to protect yourself in fear if you’d been capable. As it were, you continued to watch in horror.

Beetlejuice struggled back and away, breaking the grip of his twin, cradling his crooked arm. Shirtless Beetlejuice stepped between him and you, hunched and watching him warily. Because of his stance, you didn’t see the repair Beetlejuice did to his arm, but heard the wet cracking and hiss of pain. You were able to see him shake his arm out to the side, no worse for wear, apparently.

He sidled to one side. Beetlejuice moved with him, keeping himself bodily between the two of you. The shorter one cocked his head enough to see over his shoulder and caught your eyes.

“You sure are something, baby. You’ve got this prick of a duplicate snared-–you sure you’re not some succubus, trapping saps by their dicks?”

You glared as best you could at him, although it was from no position of power.

“None of this had to happen, baby,” he continued, like this was a perfectly reasonable conversation during a perfectly reasonable situation. “This is all your fault. You said you were angry I was summoned by other people and I fucked them, but you refused the final step that would’ve set me free!”

Your glare became laser-sharp in intensity. Yes, you refused to fucking marry him. But he probably would’ve continued to fuck anything that moved even if you’d done that for him!

He must have read your mind, because he laughed. Laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agreed amicably.

If you’d have had the strength, you’d have gotten off the mattress and probably hit him yourself. As it was, you’d at least provided enough distraction-–what a tool to use!–-that the taller Beetlejuice eased close enough to him to rush him, grab him by the waist, and slam him into the wall with a resounding crack that shook the house.

The infernal language returned as they screamed at each other. You winced. The lights waned, and waxed, and waned again, giving you strobe light effects of their true demonic forms, or the body horror they could twist themselves into: undulating tentacles; needle teeth in countless maws; some arms all grey and depraved, with fingernails rotting off its hand; all awash in the blood from injuries too horrific for any non-dead being to survive.

They were so evenly matched it seemed like this was going to be an eternal war. Each attack was countered, and both were wounded and bloody. Whatever they were saying to each other occasionally devolved into wordless growls and spits. You couldn’t stop sobbing, which made you feel like you were drowning. Although your anger was still burning, your strength against the spectral restraints was ebbing. You sagged and closed your eyes, unable to watch the carnage any longer.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a beat of silence. It’d been so loud in your bedroom the hush made you wonder if you’d suddenly gone deaf. You picked your head up as best you could to see what was happening.

Beetlejuice had his counterpart in a hold that was inhumanly possible and inhumanely done: the umbral tentacles had solidified and impaled the other through his chest, then wrapped snugly around his torso, arms and legs so that he had no leverage to fight it. Two hands held his head in a crushing grip, while a third was on his throat, clutching so tightly the sharpened nails on the fingertips were buried in the meat of his neck.

Trussed and beaten, he was no longer pale; Beetlejuice had been painted in red ink with a heavy brush. He wasn’t pinned to the floor, either, the tentacles kept him suspended above it but his own weight pulled him downward against them, causing more grievous wounds. Thick, dark blood had splattered your floor, and continued to drip from him. You had no idea if a ghost or a demon could die from exsanguination, but he looked close to unconsciousness.

The Beetlejuice holding him didn’t let that happen, however. He leaned down and whispered something you couldn’t hear into his twin’s ear, then kissed his slack mouth. It was the final show of dominance; the loser didn’t have the strength or fortitude to pull away or even bite. As he pulled away again, you saw the victor’s tongue lap along the inside of the other’s hard palate before he stood up completely.

Still holding his victim, Beetlejuice turned his gaze on you.

“Say his name,” he ordered.

tbc …

[danggirlronpa]

Which Future Arc fakeout death would you make stick: Aoi or Kyoko?

With (and because of) strong love for her character: Kyoko, in a heartbeat.

DR3 feels incongruous to the games for a lot of people because it centers around very different themes. Where the DR games use trauma and violence as allegory for the common traumas and process of radicalization in teens (in addition to more straightforward uses of violence to examine propaganda and torture porn), DR3 moves its setting to primarily an adult sphere. Teen life, including its abject cruelty, is presented through a lens of brightly colored, rotten-orange nostalgia - or, for the adults with bad high school experiences, presented as dull, gray, and faceless. Instead, it is the side of the adults that is given complexity, depth, and that TV-beloved Gritty Realism TM.

In service of this shift, DR3 doesn't use death in the same way as the games. In the games, death is used as a way of highlighting the tragedy itself; character arcs are cut off midway through and normal teen issues become murder scenes. In DR3, instead, the focus is not on the violence but on the character who is committing it.

DR3 revolves around reflection of - and closure for - the traumas endured as a teenager. To that end, all of the characters are either completely flat to fill the ranks (Daiki, Gozu, Miaya) or have character arcs which their death/survival is a direct part of resolving (Koichi fulfilling his promise to Jin, the tragic conclusion to Seiko, Ruruka, and Izayoi's messy relationship).

With this in mind, not only should Hina not die, she shouldn't have even had a fakeout. Hina's arc in THH is that of a girl whose love pushes her to the absolute extreme of despair - and whose love, similarly, revives her and motivates the enter group to finish the Killing Game with no more deaths. Hina is an emotional lynchpin to the culmination of THH. You'll notice she doesn't get much of an arc in DR3, and that's because Hina's arc has been completely finished; instead, we see her caring for and protecting the people around her, as she has learned to do for the survival of the group. Killing her spits in the face of her arc and removes a key component of what makes the THH survivors function. Which WOULD have a place in a different version of DR3. But in the version of DR3 we got, it's antithetical to the story's goal.

Kyoko's death, on the other hand, is, point-blank, the perfect culmination of her arc. This is doubly true if the series is paired with DRK, but since most English fans haven't read it, we'll just talk about THH on. Kyoko's arc is about learning to rely on others instead of doing everything on her own, and of the divide between logic and emotion. Kyoko is emotionally immature in THH. She overreacts with jealousy when her first friend has a secret, even though she knows it's hypocritical. She sees her father's bones with a detached disinterest, and is overwhelmed at the realization that he was not a one-note villain. For how incredibly capable she is, Kyoko doesn't understand how people work or how to rely on them, and she suffers for it. It isn't until she goes to save Makoto after his execution that we see her truly rely on others - continued into helping him save the Remnants in SDR2.

Kyoko's death in DR3 is the perfect culmination of this arc. An exact parallel to the version of Kyoko in THH who asked Makoto to accept his own death so that she could solve the mystery of the school. With the same cool-headedness that determined she would have to kill someone she cares for to survive, Kyoko makes the same judgment, but with the opposite intention - that she has to die for someone she cares for to survive. From a character who is repeatedly stated to not have an interest or grasp on morality, her life ends with the most selfless thing she can possibly do. It's tragic. It's hard to even consider. It is a perfect culmination of her arc.

And, importantly: it also serves into the greater theme of DR3, which is self sacrifice. Self sacrifice shows up Constantly in DR3 - Koichi for Kyoko, Kyoko for Makoto, Juzo for Munakata; right down to ideological sacrifice, like Chisa to encourage despair and Kazuo to encourage "hope." As the final self sacrifice, Kyoko's death is lent a narrative weight which closes out a story which she, ultimately, was one of the primary drivers of from the beginning.

[anemcia]

❝I…❞ Though there is an attempt to speak, it's foiled by a rough, frustrated sigh. ❝I hate you. So much. You're utterly egotistical, needlessly sadistic, a complete hypocrite and utterly infuriating. You never leave me alone, you never shut up, you take what you want, do what you want, without a single consideration. You put yourself on such a high pedestal, you think you're above it all -- above everyone.❞ There's a sharp intake of breath. ❝But, outside of that, you're… insightful. You're intelligent, you're passionate, you're witty -- hell, you're even playful when you want to be! And that's-- that's cute!❞ Exasperated, there's another sigh. ❝Sometimes, you're cute, and it drives me insane. You drive me insane. I… I hate how much I've come to like you. All this time I've spent with you, you've… gotten in my head a little. --A lot. I think about you so often. I… like spending time with you. Despite everything... I like you.❞

Confess something to my muse on anon. - [ACCEPTING]

Oh, he knew this song all too well. The lengthy, insulting onslaught of drivel and hatred, before a gentle serving of praise and affection. The abject rejection of his righteous spirit, yet so magnetically drawn the very same resolve, were two sides of the same coin. A crooked grin crept upon the god's lips, tentatively folding the letter into his pocket. Such a foolish mortal, to fall so easily into his palm like the injured bird she was. So desperate to prove herself as an individual, but so painfully desperate for his undivided attention. For his divine, holy approval.

"This sad display would be pitiful if it were not so amusing... You wish to be rid of me, yet remain in the cage I have presented. You have come to love the silver bars that bind you, and I cannot deny that I take full pleasure in knowing you sing only for me. You will never be free of sin, but you have my compassion. I will clip your wings one day, little bird, and you will never leave my side again."

[drmorbius12]

Tannhauser at the Venusburg Gate

(Or Tannhauser's Quest)

Part the First

Her realm beneath the rooted stars endures yet beyond cold reach lest that land too be defiled with rotted hypocritic modernity

For her softest whisper he did seek another world spinning deep a sparkling orb untouched by diseased minds concurrent

To ask the blessed Venus for her pure kiss of bliss unclothed that he might wander thus along orgasmic revelatory lusted paths

Old minds he had left behind crept into his golden bed as guilt seeped astern with false belief in heavenly forgiveness

But the holy fanned cap devised in hubritic disguised obsession long sought the demise of such pagan beliefs stolen and reshaped

Now failing the misled Tannhauser thus built with lies ideas borrowed from unsorrowed purity of heart in idyllic realms beyond his ken

So he wandered back through long paths trod before that might return him to the world from which him his mother bore

Part the Second

The world is full of sorrow and pain wherein the wanderer must gain a foothold if such Quest might manifest in blind search

To seek the false redemption from that fickle source long held which cares not for true belief to consumed by greed and power

Such revelation brings disgust to pardon thus would demand no less than full bore lot of those roses they only might bestow upon his return

But declared most righteously denied the pardon he sought in disbelief he was decried no forgiveness for his worship of the blessed Venus hid

Was turned away without remorse while three day passed forsook those red petals only faded from his sight meant he must go back to her embrace

Back along the deepest corridors beneath earthen bowels possessed to beg forgiveness of truer kind to come back in blessed rest once more

And when long endurance of endless chase did Tannhauser seek her fair embrace once more did knock upon the hidden gates on abject knees

Part the Third

To beseech that Goddess beloved she who may grant him escape from this oldest garden of death where we dwell within our sorry flesh

But beg and bang and beat upon her storied gate his bloodied hands went unheard as he stood without that final grace he could not find

And in darkness over all his Quest yet unfulfilled to his wearied ears in harshest voice She spake these precious words he could not forget

Ye must decide which side you stand before I unlock once more this deathless door to thee who seek my eternal bliss filled state

To live forever within this mystic place among ancient gods that exist forevermore in the amber wells of silence

[gcldfanged]

impersonate? ⚈ ̫ ⚈

He takes a slow breath in, flashes a dazzling smile and slams his hands over his hips in a chest-out, head up kind of pose.

"I'm Zack and if I'm not bouncing all over the place like a human-shaped rubber ball, then I'm always pulling some stupid ass shit like treating an extended war and the liberation of another country like a video game high score I gotta to beat. I've got dreams so nebulous and vague, even I don't realize how impossible they are, especially since I'm working in a company like the Shinra!"

Jae wipes a hand down his face, looking slightly apologetic in abject silence.

"My mentor is a massive hypocrite setting me up for failure and I don't deserve that, especially since deep down I'm just a kid with a good heart. And one of these days I might die and that scares me- not because I'd be gone, but because I'd just be another tally on a list, one more report in a pile of numerous expendables. So what I really want is for even a single person to remember who I am and that I was once here. That I existed."