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mynewshq · 3 months ago

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Petrol crisis: Trucks stranded at depots as NNPCL, Dangote tango over pricing

Oil marketers have yet to commence the loading of Premium Motor Spirit, popularly called petrol, despite assurances by the Federal Government that the commodity will be available this weekend. News HQ gathered that though some PMS vessels had arrived in the country at the NNPC’s Apapa and Port Harcourt depots, loading by independent marketers had yet to begin. As a result, petrol queues in major cities persisted on Friday despite the Minister of State for Petroleum Resources (Oil), Heineken Lokpobiri, earlier promising that the product would be massively available before the weekend. But the National Operations Controller of the Independent Petroleum Marketers Association of Nigeria, Mustapha Zarma, said on Friday that the loading of products at depots had yet to commence, stressing that the queues could last till Monday. “Maybe the improvement in supply will start tomorrow or Sunday but as of yesterday (Thursday) and today (Friday), there has not been much loading of products. And even if there has been loading today, I don’t think it is much. “That is why the queues are still visible. We cannot confirm the massive release of products as announced by the minister until maybe Monday,” Zarma stated. On whether the petrol being expected was the one from the Dangote refinery, Zarma replied, “I am not in a position to answer that. It is NNPC that should answer that.” NNPC earlier stated on Thursday that it would start lifting products from the Dangote refinery on September 15, 2024. Zarma had told our correspondent on Thursday that about 2,000 petrol tankers were still at various NNPC depots waiting to lift products. He said, “The queues in Abuja are heavy. Nobody is loading. Right now, most of the tickets of independent marketers, which had been paid for since the last three months have not been cleared to load.” The President of the Petroleum Products Retail Outlets Owners Association of Nigeria, Billy Gillis-Harry, also confirmed that marketers had yet to start lifting petrol as required. “We are aware of what the minister said, but we don’t have products yet. We have not started lifting the product as it is supposed to be and that is why the cost is very high in filling stations that have it. “People struggle so much to get the product to sell to keep their businesses running. Once the products are readily accessible, the price will stabilise and the queues will clear. That is the situation.” Presidential aide attacks Dangote Meanwhile, a presidential aide said the Dangote Refinery was running away from pricing in order not to look bad to Nigerians. The official, who spoke on condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the matter, noted that the refinery was the sole determinant of pricing, adding that it could not sell fuel below its cost price. “The petrol price cannot be less than N1,000; that was why Dangote decided to push it to the government. So, if the price is determined by the Federal Government, people can attack the government. How does a private company ask the government to fix its price?” the official stated. In a statement on Thursday, the Dangote Group Chief Branding and Communications Officer, Anthony Chiejina, had said the PMS market in Nigeria was strictly regulated and the refinery would wait for relevant government agencies for the price. He said, “The PMS market is strictly regulated, which is known to all oil marketers and stakeholders in the sector, hence we cannot determine, fix, or influence the product price, which falls under the purview of relevant government authorities.” However, the NNPC, in another statement by its spokesman, Olufemi Soneye, made a contrary claim about the price. The company held that the PMS market had been deregulated and market forces would determine the price of the product. Soneye was quoting the Executive Vice President of Downstream, NNPC, Adedapo Segun, saying Section 205 of the Petroleum Industry Act, which established NNPC Ltd, stipulated that petroleum prices were determined by unrestricted free market forces. “Additionally, the exchange rate plays a significant role in influencing these prices,” the NNPC submitted. Market forces Experts told our correspondent that if the NNPC and the Federal Government allowed market forces to determine the price of Dangote petrol, it might be as high as N1,000 per litre. “Can Nigerians buy petrol at N1,000 or N1,100?” a depot operator queried, asking the government to intervene to ensure affordable energy for Nigerians. Speaking with our correspondent, an energy consultant and expert, Henry Adigun, said the cost of producing a litre of PMS is an average of N750, without any additional cost. According to Adigun, this could rise to N800/litre when other margins are added, which will also increase when it gets to the filling stations. He stated that the NNPC could decide to buy from Dangote and sell at a subsidised rate to the masses. The consultant, however, called for transparency in the entire process. “Anybody that is expecting N400 or N500 petrol is just wasting his time. It won’t happen,” Adigun added. Similarly, Professor Emeritus, Wumi Iledare, held that the PIA did not empower anyone to set the price of petrol, saying it should be determined by the forces of demand and supply. Iledare stated that the Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority had the responsibility to ensure there was no price gouging. The don advocated for a willing seller, willing buyer arrangement, saying the NMDPRA should not allow the NNPC to be the sole buyer of Dangote PMS. He rejected the payment of shortfalls on PMS, nothing that the sale of petrol to all marketers in naira would crash the price. Until the market becomes fully deregulated with many participants, Iledare suggested that Nigeria should practise what he called price modulation with a committee looking at important determinants of demand and supply to agree on a price to be reviewed as the situation changes. He also said the price of diesel in Ghana was one cedis higher than that of petrol. OPS warns NNPC The Organised Private Sector on Friday warned that allowing market forces to determine the prices of fuel would bring about more volatility in the sector. In a statement made available to News HQ, the National President of the Nigerian Association of Chambers of Commerce, Industry, Mines, and Agriculture, Dele Oye, said the chamber condemned the recent announcement by the Minister of State for Petroleum, Heineken Lokpobiri, that the Federal Government would no longer interfere in the pricing of PMS in the country. He said NACCIMA was particularly alarmed by the potential impact of this decision on businesses, consumers, and the overall economic landscape, adding that the deregulation of PMS prices, coupled with the influence of foreign exchange illiquidity, was likely to result in significant volatility and unpredictability in fuel prices. “The possibility of a sharp increase in fuel prices, potentially exceeding the initial rise from N600 to N800 at NNPC stations is a grave concern. This will undoubtedly lead to a surge in inflationary pressures, eroding the purchasing power of consumers and putting immense strain on businesses already struggling to navigate the challenging economic environment. “A more gradual and well-planned approach to PMS pricing is essential to ensure stability, predictability, and sustainable economic growth in Nigeria,” he stated. In an interview with our correspondent, the President of the Manufacturers Association of Nigeria, Francis Meshioye, said the Federal Government should examine the underlying factors causing the price hikes before attempting to address the problem, noting the need to devise long-term solutions. He said, “The effort to control fuel prices has been largely sabotaged, and the cost of goods has also increased. The government should take the time to examine the root of the issue. There are underlying factors causing these problems, and they cannot be addressed without tackling the fundamental issues that led to the price hikes. It’s time to stop with superficial solutions; what we need are quick and effective measures. They must identify what triggered the increases and devise a strategic plan to address the underlying problem. The key concern is that the government should focus on long-term solutions because energy supply is crucial to manufacturers.” Meshioye added that the inconsistencies in the energy sector were adversely affecting the operational strategies employed by manufacturers, as they were constantly required to plan in alignment with the current economic realities in the country. According to the MAN boss, the Federal Government should engage the services of patriotic experts and stakeholders in the energy sector, whose recommendations would be adopted for implementation after brainstorming on how to get lasting solutions to the problem. Also, the Director of the Centre for the Promotion of Private Enterprise, Dr Muda Yusuf, said fuel scarcity results in profiteering, and the only way the government can stop it is to ensure the availability of the product and promote competition. “Generally, three critical factors determine the prices of petroleum products: procurement costs, logistics costs, and product availability. The different prices we are currently witnessing are consequences of these factors. If the conditions around these variables improve, we would see a moderation in prices as well as less variability. It is product scarcity that results in profiteering. The way to tackle this exploitative practice is to ensure product availability and promote competition,” he stated. TUC considers strike The Trade Union Congress criticised the increase in fuel prices, saying it undermined the new minimum wage of N70,000. The TUC revealed that it would convene to discuss potential strike action, noting that “with the current situation, anything can happen.” In an interview with News HQ, the National Deputy President of the TUC, Tommy Etim, expressed concerns that the hike would lead to higher costs for goods and services. He stated, “Our focus right now isn’t just on whether we are considering a strike. Given the current circumstances, anything is possible. It may not even originate from us. For instance, the #EndBadGovernance protest wasn’t initiated by us, it was a response to pressing economic issues.” Etim emphasised that any decision regarding a strike would depend on the positions taken by individual labour centres. “Once the various labour unions have made their decisions, we will formulate a unified stance for organised labour,” he added. But the Nigeria Labour Congress reiterated that it would meet to give direction on how to engage the Federal Government on the fuel hike. Spokesperson for the NLC, Benson Upah, said the appropriate organs of the body would meet and take decisions. Nigerians trek, ride bicycles Following the hike in fuel prices, which has increased the cost of transportation across the country, some Nigerians have resorted to the use of bicycles for interstate movement. Our correspondents, who travelled to major cities in the country on Friday, reported that some Nigerians opted for trekking and cycling. Some residents of Ogun State said they had abandoned their cars in favour of public transport, coupled with trekking, to cope with the unbearable hardship caused by the fuel crisis. A senior health worker in the state, Mrs Fauziyah Adesola, said she had dropped her car and cut down on unnecessary journeys. “With the fuel subsidy removal and the price rising from N200 to N600 per litre, I initially tried to stubbornly use my personal car, but I found out that it was a battle I couldn’t win. I was burning so much on fuel, children’s school bills were skyrocketing, and the cost of food and many other things were rising, yet the salary remained unchanged. “So, I switched to using public transport when going to my workstation outside Abeokuta, and I added a bit of trekking. I have since found peace. I have also cut down on unnecessary journeys and social engagements,” she lamented. Another resident, Mr Kola Adio, said he had also parked his car and embraced public transport and trekking to manage the burdensome cost of transportation. He said, “I stopped taking my car to work in January, and I have noticed that many people in my neighborhood have done the same. I now use public transport to work, which costs me an average of N2000, compared to the N10,000 I was spending daily.” A man, David Michael, said he now uses commercial motorcycles, popularly called okada, to get to work. He said, “Is it not better to spend N1,200 on a bike to work daily than about N5,000 or even more driving myself? It is common sense. What I do now is just to take my car to church when the whole family is involved. “I have also learnt to trek for at least 10 minutes from my house to the junction to get a bike to my work station. Many people are doing the same because this economy is harsh. It is terrible. None of us prepared for this situation, but God will see us through.” In some parts of Delta State, a similar trend is observed as some Nigerians in Asaba trekked to work, while others used bicycles for movement within the state capital on Friday. A resident in the city, Mr Monday Iwu, said he resorted to using a bicycle because he could not afford to buy fuel at the exorbitant price. “I have a car, but since the fuel hike, I have parked my car and have been using a bicycle to work. However, our problem is the road. There are no proper roads, and cars, trucks, and even tricycles don’t allow us on the road; they harass us with their big vehicles. That’s our only fear, but we have no other options.” Speaking with our correspondent, a young woman residing in the Ekeki axis of Yenagoa, Bayelsa State, Tarindo Mike, said she had reduced her movements due to the increase in transportation fares caused by the fuel price hike. He said, “I’m just managing. Like today, where I used to pay N100, they now charge N150. I waited for two or three Keke before the last one carried me, and the rider said, ‘You know that fuel is high, and I’m just carrying you for N100. “The situation is depressing. As a seller, I sample the prices of intend to buy the next day, but when I go with the money, I’m told the price has increased, and it makes me sad.” In Ibadan, the Oyo State capital, a middle-aged woman” who identified herself only as Funke, said she trekked from Ring Road to the Challenge area of the city on Friday because she could not afford the high fares that motorists demanded due to the fuel price hike. Similarly, a resident in the Odo-Ona Elewe area of Ibadan, who simply gave his name as Mr Luku, said, “Most of the people living in this community often trek long distances to major roads where they can then board Keke Maruwa (tricycle) or Micra taxi cabs when they have business in other areas of Ibadan. “This is how we have been trying to cope with the fuel situation since Tinubu removed the subsidy on petrol. Many people in this community don’t go out except for important reasons.” Also, a commuter in Abia state, said, “We have decided to trek so that instead of paying N400, we can now pay N300. Honestly, this fuel hike is changing the attitude of residents of the state. We now engage in trekking to cushion the effect of the hike.” When our correspondent spoke to a bicyclist, he said, “I decided to fix my abandoned bicycle so I wouldn’t need to pay N400 from Douglas Road to Orji. Did you notice that passengers have resorted to trekking? There’s always a way out.” Read the full article

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years ago

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In Which I Project

Jon has some sort of neurodivercence and it is making work hard.

@janekfan

cw Jon is really really getting down on himself about what his brain is making hard, so cw for that and internalized ablism relating to things like rsd and executive dysfunction. Jon also takes this out on his coworkers, because that is how Jon can be. This chapter is a bit heavy with a hopeful end. If there is a chapter two, it will have a lot more fluff, promise. (The reason Jon doesn't have a diagnosis is because I am projecting and I am not 100% what all is going on in my brain, this is just my experience.) Also mentions of alcohol and food.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why is he like this? Why can’t he just fucking be a normal, functional person. Why does his brain behave like a backed up, broken drain. He can’t think today.

He’s been staring at his computer since 6:30 this morning. He’s been here eight hours. And it isn’t like he isn’t getting anything done. But it’s not what he meant to do.

He was going to check his email, record a statement, do some filing, check Martin’s work, then do some follow ups and check his email again before going home.

Well. He checked his email. Then he noticed a flaw in what he filed yesterday so he had to fix that. Then the loo was out of toilet tissue and he had to go chase down that, because the building’s maintenance tends to skip the Archives half the time. (Which is usually fine because it’s used by four fairly neat people, but doesn’t help when they run out of things). Then Elias had requested a meeting. And that sent Jon spiraling because he wasn’t supposed to have a meeting today. That was supposed to be tomorrow and while it’s nice that he doesn’t have to do that tomorrow it threw off his whole day and now he just feels like he’s going to cry or pass out or break his jaw by clenching it so hard.

He can’t do it.

He tries to make himself record a statement. He does.

But he can’t open the file.

He can’t.

He wants to scream in frustration. Which, of course, is when Martin walks in.

Jon doesn’t mean to yell. He really doesn’t. He doesn’t know where this vitriol comes from. Was he always like this? He doesn’t even remember what he says, just the acrid taste of bitter words on his tongue.

When Martin flees, he tries to open the file again but the color and whine of the lights breaks down on him and his dragging fatigue.

He tries to loosen his jaw. Wiggles it side to side. It pops, but ultimately goes back to tense. It’s starting to give him a headache.

He can’t do this. It’s barely lunch. He’s gotten nothing done.

He tries to open this statement.

He opens his email instead.

The library wants his books back.

He’s tired. He means to gather his books and bring them up, but he ends up cleaning his desk and making notes on half researched statements he forgot about yesterday.

That puts him off balance. He hates not finishing. It makes him feel on edge. Like the world is going to drop from below his feet at any moment. Like, in forgetting, the world has already dropped from beneath him, and he’s been walking on empty air and delusions. And if this has already happened, how can he be sure it didn’t happen before.

He finishes cleaning and files the loose statements away.

He finally remembers to drink some water.

He rubs his eyes against unshed tears and exhaustion. It’s too bright. Too loud.

He takes his books up to the library.

Hannah in the library tells him to remind Tim to return his books, she he does that.

Jon is. Edging towards …probably a nervous breakdown, if he’s honest with himself, by the time he stands before Tim’s desk.

And Tim isn’t going to relinquish his books without a fight.

“You can give Martin a rest or I’ll tell Hannah that you lost her books.” Tim crosses his arms.

It’s reasonable, Jon knows. He’s behaved childishly. This is more than warranted. But, unfortunately his brain isn’t working. He’s caught up in the disappointment in Tim’s tone, and again, the floor drops from beneath his feet. Stomach dropping. He tries to convince himself that, no, Tim doesn’t hate him. All he as to do is agree or apologize which he should do anyhow. But. But what comes out of his mouth is something along the lines of, “Tim, I’ll thank you not to try to run my department. This is hardly professional behavior. Who do you think Hannah is more likely to believe?”

This wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for the force and anger in his tone. Misplaced confusion and frustration and exhaustion.

He turns on his heel before Tim finds the words to argue.

This is it.

He’s ruined everything.

Tim will never talk to him again and Sasha won’t either because he was rude to Tim. And of course Tim’s mad at him because he was a prick to Martin.

It’s all his fault. He should have been able to stay on task. He’s an adult, damnit!

He finally opens the file but he hitches a sob before he can squeeze the introduction out of his tight jaw.

He can’t do this.

He can’t do this job.

He can’t sleep at night and work all day. Can’t even feed himself or get to the store once a week.

How the fuck did he make it through school. He’s a worthless mess.

Georgie knew it.

He wants to scream.

They’re talking about him. They must be. That shouldn’t matter to him. He’s their boss. Besides, he was right even if he was rude about it. Martin does make irritating mistakes. He could have been more professional about handling it, but he still had to say something. And Tim. Tim had no right to bargain that way. He has a responsibility to the library, and trying to use it as leverage against Jon is ridiculous.

But at the same time. There are the closest he has�� had to friends. Tim was his friend. Right?

Had he made that up too? Has some memory of some earlier misdeed fallen out of the torn hole in the pocket of his memory where he looses things like hours, tasks, sleep, meals, meetings, half-finished statements on his desk.

Why is he like this?

He gets some more work done. But none of the stuff on his list.

He tries to make himself read the statement, again. But he doesn’t.

It’s late. He’s left with lingering taste of disappointment and discontent.

Today’s been a wash.

He looks angrily at his scribbled to do list on the neon sticky note, from the stack Tim gave him back in Research. Nothing’s been crossed off. Statement has been circled twice. He rubs at his eyes. Tries to wipe away the tension headache. Remembers to take a drink of water, finally. It’s been hours. It does help, a little, soothes some of the anxious desperation and crushing despair. He wonders how much of it would be soothed if he got himself a hot meal. How would it compare to the relief of finished that statement.

But…. he won’t be able to go home and sleep if he doesn’t finish, because he won’t be able to relax until he gets it done.

He allows himself 5 minutes to cry. He sets a timer.

It doesn’t help. Doesn’t even offer the release he’d been hoping for.

He dries his eyes with his sleeve.

He reads the statement. And scolds himself for taking all day to get to it. It wasn’t hard. It wasn’t even that bad. It was a foolish statement that reeked of mischief and falsehood. And he wasted his whole day avoiding it.

He cries again, then. No timer.

He leaves his office. He’s finally done with the day. It’s edging on 21:00. He feels like shit. Of course he hadn’t brought a lunch, why would he have enough brain cells to do that? He did make a halfhearted attempt at breakfast. But that was a lot of hours ago, and he’d barely managed a few bites before his anxious stomach had stopped him. He doesn’t feel hungry now, but he knows he is by the shakiness if his limbs, the over-lightness in his head, the irritation at himself still thick in his veins.

He still has to get himself home.

Then he hears footsteps on the stairs. He thinks about going back to his office, but the idea of going back in there makes his head spin. He’s spent too long in his office. Christ, he just wants to sleep. Just wants to be in bed without having to get home and make dinner or order dinner or shower or get in bed. He just wants to be there. Just wants to be there and sleep of eternity. He angrily brushes away a stray tear.

Of course, it’s too late now to try to hide, and eh certainly can’t hide how rumpled and tear-stained he is. So he stands there dumbly, some archaic part of his brain reasoning that if he stays still, maybe no one will see him.

Tim sees him. Tim is laughing on his phone, pleasantly buzzed, and fumbling for the jacket he most likely forgot before going for drinks. At least it’s still fairly early. At least Tim still cares enough about his job to wrap it up at a decent hour. He spots Jon, and hesitates. Jon doesn’t look like he’s doing well. He trails off mid chuckle. “Sorry Sash, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Had fun tonight.”

What does he say to Jon, who’d been a right ass earlier. Jon, who is now teary and frozen, staring at him with exhaustion and mortification.

He makes a decision, making a conscious choice to make himself smaller and softer. “Hey, come back to mine, I’m going to buy you dinner. As my boss, you’re a prick, and I haven’t forgotten that. But as my friend, you need a curry. Maybe we can sort out my asshole boss and my upset friend at the same time, yeah?”

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #timothy stoker #my words #my fic #hurt/ comfort #cw food #cw alcohol #cw internalized ableism

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mrs-tsunderemeitantei · 4 years ago

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DISCLAIMER: HUGE, LONG RANT AHEAD!

ALSO SPOILERS IN CASE YOU'RE NOT UP TO DATE WITH THE MANGA OR WITH ZERO THE ENFORCER!

Soo in case you missed it, Gosho released the SDB Justice Plus some time last month:

The biggest shocker was the answer to Question number 4, shown below:

Basically this translates to:

Q4: On the Mystery Train, he (Amuro) said to Miyano Shiho that “My comrades who are tracking us have made arrangements in order to retrieve you”, but were those comrades from PSB? If that’s the case, I’m curious about how he planned to deceive Vermouth...!

A: Those were comrades from the Black Organization, so there was no need to deceive them.

Ummmm...what??

Idk about y'all but when I read this, I was livid. It didn’t make any sense to me. And quite frankly, I didn't want it to. Maybe because I am one of those (very rare) people who thought Rei and Shiho could eventually end up together (Don't laugh, it would have made sense, and I'll write about that in a separate post).

Anywho, safe to say Gosho's latest confession left me in absolute confusion. Like why? Just why? Then I realised I'm more butt-hurt about this because I was fixated on a certain idea of Rei's character and chose to ignore his other sides, as if they didn't exist. It didn't help that his past is so freaking depressing which got me sympathizing with his character and led me to either ignore or make excuses for any red flags.

But now that I think about it, it sadly makes sense. It also explains why he didn't show any sadness or regret when he saw Shiho supposedly ‘die’ in the luggage cart in the Bell Tree Train Arc.

Now to let me wrap my head around this, I needed to breakdown his three "faces":

1. Amuro Tooru is a cheerful, friendly, generous, carefree, outgoing man.

2. Furuya Rei is a serious, law-abiding, calculating, patriotic police officer who is willing to die for Japan's security.

3. And Bourbon is a devious, manipulative, cunning, deadly agent.

Yet, ever since we found out he was in fact an NPA agent, we (or at least I), seem to have forgotten about those dark sides he possesses. Also with Zero's tea time showing us a softer side of his character it was easy to get caught up in "he's 100% one of the god guys" when in fact, he's a complex, grey character.

He has shown on multiple occasions, just how far he is willing to go, to achieve whatever goal he’s set his mind on. Let's not forget how in Zero the Enforcer, he completely flipped the switch. (I know this isn't Canon but...) The man went as far as to create a suspect and jail the innocent Mori Kogoro so he can legally investigate the case and emotionally manipulate Conan into unkowningly help with the investigation.

Also, in the Detective Nocturne’s case he deliberately didn’t tell Ran as soon as he noticed Conan might have been kidnapped by the criminal because he hadn’t finished investigating the apartment.

And in the Scarlet Arc, he was willing to harm Jodie's teacher friend, so he can lure out the FBI and advance his investigation on Akai’s death. Let’s not forget once he figured out the truth, he was willing to expose Akai’s fake death (which I get it he's out for revenge), but by doing so, he would have also gotten Kir killed (even though I'm pretty sure he knew at that point, she was in fact a NOC).

As we can see, be it Bourbon, Furuya Rei or Amuro Toru, he will stop at nothing to reach his goals, even if it means throwing innocent people under the bus. So, now when Gosho says his "partners" were in fact BO members and not the PSB, I'm no longer surprised.

I mean, why wouldn’t he sell Shiho back to the organisation? Because he knew she was Sensei’s daughter, and that should have meant something to him? Alright, let’s talk about that.

Did he love Shiho’s mum? Yes, he did, there’s no doubt about that (one of the reasons he joined the joined the police in the first place was to find her, so you can't convince me otherwise).

But what if he loved Japan even more? (It's not canon, but he did say in Zero the Enforcer that the safety of this country matters most to him, even if it means he’d end up paying with his own life).

So, I'm going to take a wild guess as to how he could have felt when he found out the woman he loved as his own mother, willingly joined the deadly organisation that threatened the safety of his country. Based on his memories, he remembered her encouraging her husband to join the Carasuma group.

So, if through his investigations, he was able to realise she is the same woman from his childhood, I’m pretty sure he would have been very disappointed. I’m not sure the extent of his knowledge about the drug, but if he also found out their research created the poisonous APTX-4869, I reckon it would be more reason for him to be upset.

Now let's talk about Haibara/Shiho. To any outsider who's unaware of the truth of her past, she is a woman born into the organisation, then was groomed and taught from a young age by the syndicate and promoted to take on their research. A research that produced a poisonous drug, just like her parents did. Also, she only ran away after the organisation killed her sister. Before that, she was a high-ranking member. With all these facts, why would he think of her as anything but a criminal just like the rest of the BO members? It’d be rather foolish for him to not hand her back to the organisation just because she is the daughter of the woman he once thought so highly of. If anything, he’d be killing two birds with one stone, by executing a criminal, while also gaining higher standing in the organisation.

As fans of Haibara, we are rightfully upset by his intentions of returning her to the organisation because we know her truth. He doesn't. It wasn't until we learnt more about her painful past and kind and caring nature that we grew to love her. We know she never wanted to create a poisonous drug. That she already hated the organisation for using the drug as a poison. That she had to develop the drug to protect Akemi’s life.

There is no way Rei would have known about any of the bullying she or her family faced from the BO. By nature, Shiho is very secretive and reserved and very little of her personality or history would have been known by any of the BO members (except maybe Gin). Therefore, apart from the files the BO would have kept on Shiho and her role in the organisation, that’s all Rei had to learn about her. So, I can’t really blame him for choosing to hand her back to the organisation.

Some people who are still in denial, argue that if he planned to kill Shiho, why was he willing to kill whom he thought was Vermouth instead of handing her over?

Shouldn’t that prove he was going to take Shiho to safety to the PSB, not the BO? Before Gosho's statement, I would have agreed but now...sigh. Now, I get why he did that. If Shiho were to die BEFORE she was returned to the organisation, he wouldn’t have gained the trust he was seeking. If she were to die AFTER he delivered her, I highly doubt it would have mattered to him. Although I'm still hoping he maybe he had a plan of not leaving her in the organisation's clutches after "handing her back" and he never truly intended on getting her killed. But since Gosho also said there was no need to deceive Vermouth, I highly doubt it. (Heart breaking).

After such an explanation, does everything make more sense now? Maybe. Am I ok with it? Hell no! I’m quite angry and annoyed that this is how things turned out to be, but it is what it is. We have to accept that Rei is not a good character, and he's not a bad character. He's a grey character and when you think of it that way, it's easier to understand his behaviour. Not that I agree with it. After Gosho's statement, I think pretty sure Rei is in dire need of some character development. He could stand to learn a thing or two from Conan who manages to reach his goals while preserving as many lives as possible (Akai's fake death being the burst example while managing to drive Kir back to the BO).

For now, I’m looking forward to the developments that will entail. I’m curious to see how Rei and Haibara will react once they eventually meet each other. It'll be interesting to see what will go through his mind once he figures out her true identity. One thing I'm sure of is once they're introduced to each other, emotions will be running high and things will get intense. Which honestly, I can't wait for and I'm counting down the days till I get a proper Amuro/Haibara interaction.

#shiho miyano #miyano shiho #haibara ai #ai haibara #sherry #furuya rei #rei furuya #tooru amuro #amuro tooru #bourbon #dcmk #case closed #detective conan #Detective Conan #elena miyano #miyano elena #vermouth

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ellenripleysbelieveitornot · 4 years ago

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What about an Akechi/Joker role swap AU where Akechi is still the detective prince and Joker is still the Shujin delinquent, but the major difference is that Morgana never lost his memories and found Akechi before he approached Shido with his metaverse assassination plot?

Like, imagine Akechi, bitter and jaded, who has just awakened Loki and felt the terrifying and thrilling rush of the berserk power. He's formed a plan to get back at his piece of shit father, even managed to set up a meeting, which he had to set up months in advance, and on the day he's going to present Shido with info on the metaverse, he winds up arriving a few minutes late, because even though he intended to be early, he was accosted by a talking cat (he's been in the metaverse, so he can hear him) on the way over, and in the whole wtf-ery of the moment, lost track of time. Shido, being Shido, refuses to see him and will not reschedule because he doesn't like having his time wasted.

Pissed off, Akechi leaves to find Morgana still waiting for him outside. So he doesn't look like an idiot yelling at a cat on the street, he brings Morgana back to his shitty apartment, where Morgana explains why he had found Akechi and whats up. He doesn't know about Yaldobaoth taking Igor's place, he just knows there's two champions, and Akechi was the one he found first, so he must be Igor's chosen champion. (It is my theory that it doesn't actually matter who was Igor's and Yaldobaoth's champions, it was more about the choices they each made and where they ended up.)

Akechi has no interest in saving the world, but he knows that if he wants to get back at Shido, he needs to become someone of consequence, so he agrees to undergo Morgana's training, since Morgana clearly knows more about the metaverse than he does, and he can use it to solve cold cases, earning him a place as the Detective Prince. He changes a few hearts, to pacify Morgana, too. It takes a couple years, but during his senior year in high school, he makes it, earning himself the cooperation of the police and the spotlight of the public eye. He's getting so close to making Shido notice him that he can practically taste it. Also, what’s this ‘velvet room’ he keeps dreaming about?

Then Morgana finds Kamoshida’s palace and is like ‘heyo, you thought changing hearts in the metaverse was cool, check this shit out’ and Akechi is admittedly intrigued , so he takes a look. He sees the inside of Kamoshida’s heart and is appropriately disgusted and says to Morgana, ‘hey we should totally kill this guy’s shadow.’ Morgana’s like ‘why is your first suggestion always murder, we don’t know what would happen if we killed his shadow, Igor wasn’t very clear about that bit, we should try stealing the treasure instead’ and Morgana has been useful (and it’s been really nice to have the company these past two years, though he won’t admit that) so Akechi agrees ‘fine, we’ll steal the treasure, but if that doesn’t work, then I’m killing his shadow.’

And that’s when Ryuji and Ann make an appearance (’ohmigawd, goro, be more careful with that damn app, i s2g.’) Ryuji’s mom apparently thinks Akechi is pretty neat and watches all his interviews, so Ryuji knows who he is and is delighted to find out that the lame-ass detective his mom has talked about is actually a grumpy badass in the metaverse, with this shadow that has some kind of insane power, and hey, he helped them bring down Kamoshida (alive,) so maybe he is actually pretty cool, even though sometimes he spaces out and talks about evil twins and some longed-nose dude. He decides then and there that he’s going to be Akechi’s best friend, since he apparently has none, and Ann is all too happy to join in for the ride, and all of Goro’s protests have fallen on deaf ears, and they know about the whole detective prince thing being a facade, so he might as well indulge them for now.

The ‘Phantom Thieves’ (a name that makes Goro want to roll his eyes whenever he hears it, and why is everyone calling him ‘leader?’) gain fame and change hearts, gaining new members such as this weird-ass artist dude who fights with ice, and oh, god, one Nijima is bad enough, don’t tell me there’s two! and she uses nukes, wtf?!

Around this time, he also meets Shujin’s delinquent, enigmatic transfer student whose talk of hope and justice never quite seem to reflect in his stormy grey eyes, and he and Goro are clearly birds of a feather in a way, he can tell, there’s just something about him, and he thinks this guy might actually be his best friend, but don’t tell Ryuji that, he’d never hear the end of it.

Akechi learns the truth behind Akira’s arrest and Shido’s involvement and he is disgusted to find that he genuinely wants to help this guy, and he can’t do that if Shido’s dead, maybe he doesn’t want his revenge as badly as he thought??? Oh, ew, I have feelings that aren’t anger and it’s all my friends’ fault, I can’t just leave them and go off to get revenge, they’d literally die without me, those lovable idiots. Also, when Ryuji saw his home, he pretty much insisted he stay with him instead, and Ryuji’s mom reminds him of the good times he had with his own mother, and he honestly doesn’t think he has the strength to disappoint her like that. So, he decides to change Shido’s heart, but he knows that there’s no way that this little group of miscreants is strong enough to take on the fucked up bullshit that he’s seen in Shido’s heart, so let’s hit pause on that for now.

Shido had Wakaba killed via completely non-supernatural ways and stole her research, same as before, so Futaba still has a palace. He found out Akira worked at Leblanc a while ago and started dropping by, and then somehow Ryuji found out about it, and now all the Phantom Thieves know, so much for a peaceful place to get away, but he actually doesn’t mind that much, and Akira lets Akechi keep an eye on the shop when there are no customers so he can go out and do errands and Boss doesn’t mind, so they’ve ended up hanging out there as a group from time to time and talking Phantom Thief business, so Futaba knows who they are, and asks for their help.

Okumura’s palace pretty much goes the same, Okumura dies somehow, are we responsible, why does murder actually make me feel kinda bad, stupid friends and their stupid good influence.

Goro attends the Shujin student fair as guest speaker, whoa, the class president being friends with Akechi does have its perks, doesn’t it? Akira finds them all there together and approaches them, tells them he saw them go into the metaverse, awakened his own persona, and saw a guy in a black mask kill Okumura’s shadow, hey why don’t I join you, you probably need all the help you can get, who’s heart are we stealing next, how about Sae, she knows my probabtion officer and has been giving me hell, plus I already checked, she definitely has a palace.

They agree, and oh, hey, Akira can hear Morgana talk now, but WAIT A MINUTE?! Didn’t he hear Morgana talk before when he told Goro that Leblanc didn’t sell sushi, even though Goro hadn’t asked for any?

They hack Akira’s phone, learn that Shido (Akechi recognizes that voice) will have thugs waiting to capture them when they leave the palace. They plan around it, pull the metaverse switch and manage to sneak a heavily drugged Akechi out of the warehouse Shido stashed him in by traveling through the metaverse. Shido’s lackey’s have written a fake suicide letter from the leader of the Phantom thieves, and the chief of police, under Shido’s orders, delivers a statement confirming its authenticity, and look the plan succeeded. All they need to do know is take down Shido.

Things are going great, until they get to the engine room, where Joker, having realized what happened, is waiting for them. Joker, who lost everything after he transferred, who discovered the metaverse completely alone, who didn’t mean to kill that guy’s shadow, but he attacked him first, and Shido had somehow known, had been keeping an eye on him, had him convicted for a crime that he didn’t commit in the hopes that he would break because he needed an agent in the metaverse, and so far he’s had no luck. Joker, who had nothing left to lose and had accepted the only hand that had reached out for him.

They fight, and when it looks like things are going badly for Joker, he pulls out... a second persona?!?! At least, it looks like a persona, but something about it is off. it looks familiar somehow. And then Akira asks if they knew it was possible to fuse personas and Akechi realizes what he’s looking at. These aren’t the clean executions that Caroline and Justine perform, these are personas that have been ripped apart and haphazardly thrown back together with no thought to form or elegance, look, there’s a Yaksini’s arm, and that bit right there clearly used to belong to a Rangda, and I think that piece might have belonged to a Seiryu, and Akechi should stop listing personas now because Ann thinks she’s going to be sick.

They keep fighting. Joker can’t understand the difference in power between them. After all, aren’t they the same? Unloved, unwanted, soldiers pitted against each other by some bullshit higher power?

When Joker shoots the bulkhead door closed and Futaba reports that she’s lost Joker’s reading, Akechi vows then and there that he’s going to kill Shido after all. And he almost does. He stands there, with his gun pressed to the head of the shadow of his father, his friends can’t blame him, and even Morgana knows better than to try and stop him. But he doesn’t. He remembers Akira’s madness there at the end, and wonders what he would have become of him if it weren’t for Ryuji, who somewhere along the way, he’d realized he’d stopped tolerating and started actually liking. Ann, who shared his woes about being in the public eye and swapped tips with him about how to handle the press. Yusuke, who, although he was still completely bizarre to him, appreciated the beauty in life and didn’t tease Goro for his taste in Grandpa clothes. Makoto, who knew the importance of hard work and who, between herself and her sister, had caused Goro to pick up some healthier coping mechanisms. Futaba, who made fun of him for his food blog, but liked the same nerd bullshit that he did and would bombard him with memes until his day somehow became a little less shittier. Haru, who dreamed of starting her own business and actually cared about Goro’s opinions, and could threaten someone with a smile in a way that even Goro was jealous of. And Morganna, who had reminded him what it was like to not be lonely, and demanded more sushi than he could afford, but always made sure Goro ate his fill, instead of getting so focused on his work that he forgot.

Akechi guesses that he must have turned soft somewhere during the past several months, but after seeing what happened to Akira, he can’t help but be grateful, knowing with certainty that if things had turned out differently, that would have been him. Hey, Morgana, you know that world-saving bs you talked about two years ago? Let’s leave this piece of shit here to rot and focus our attention on that instead.

And you guys know the rest.

Or, at least, that’s how I thought it would go. Feel free to share your thoughts. :)

#shuake #akeshu #akechi goro #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #Shuake roleswap #roleswap #persona 5

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thewritinggrindstone · 4 years ago

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Identifying Harmful Repetition in Your Writing

Something I’ve encountered ad nauseam over the last few projects I’ve edited is a relentless repetition of words, phrases, and ideas. One of the most frustrating and confidence-destroying issues a reader can encounter is poorly executed repetition, which can stem from different problems, including:

Too much reliance on your natural stock phrases.

Limited vocabulary.

Not proofreading close enough or editing thoroughly enough.

Lack of confidence.

Not writing with the reader in mind.

I want to preface this with the fact that obviously certain types of repetition aren’t bad. Repetition is an incredibly powerful tool when used effectively, and what’s effective is subjective per book and per reader. That’s a massive topic for another time. This post is specifically about egregious uses of repetition, the types that any good editor or beta reader will point out as in need of fixing.

Stock Phrases and Words

Every person has their own unique lexicon, a repository of words and phrases they naturally will draw upon when they speak, write, and even think. There’s a reason clichés are prevalent, and that’s because the brain likes the path of least resistance. It’s easy to mentally grab those words and phrases that are constantly in arm’s reach, those words and phrases that are comfortable and familiar, but constantly doing this while writing and then not changing them can result in overuse that is noticeable on both stylistic and technical levels. It can also lead a reader to the understanding that you haven’t thought critically about what you’re writing, which can and will undermine their confidence in you.

If you’re writing a first draft, don’t worry about this too much. You probably just need to focus on putting words down, not exactly what those words are. Repetition is an issue that can and should be intentionally fixed during the revision process.

If this is a problem that bugs you even when you’re drafting, there are different ways of dealing with it. I tend to be highly aware of most repetition within my work, and because I constantly edit as I write, backtracking to add/move information as I go doesn’t tend to interrupt my workflow too much. If I know I’ve already used a word and can’t think of something better after several seconds’ thought, I’ll use the repetition and immediately flag it somehow—usually with a “repeat” comment—so I can deal with it once I’ve completed the draft. Opening a thesaurus or dictionary tends to be more disruptive during drafting than it’s worth, but sometimes it isn’t, and you will need to determine what works best for you according to your own style.

Once you’re ready to target the issue of repetition, you will need to work hard, think hard. Don’t settle for the easy word, the stock phrase, the cliché. Discard the timeworn, the tired, the used-before. Play with language—try to come up with new phrases, unique descriptions. Get silly, flip rocks over, dig around under them, push things as far as you need to create something different, then go back and edit again, refining what you’ve written until you’re satisfied.

It’s going to be a process. It’s going to be difficult. It won’t be natural at first; you’ll need to form new pathways in your brain, just like when you learn any new skill, and that’s uncomfortable, but if you persist, your writing will be fresh and alive and won’t be as prone to being bogged down by reader-infuriating repetition.

Limited Vocabulary

Tying into the idea of your personal lexicon is the size of it. No matter how much you pay attention to precisely what words or phrases you’re using, you won’t have much in the way of options if you don’t have at least a good-sized repertoire to draw from.

Increasing your lexicon is something that just takes dedication and time. You can’t rush it, you can’t force it, but you can be deliberate in growing it. Read broadly, maybe bookmark or sign up for your favorite dictionary’s word of the day, or keep a word cache of interesting words or phrases you like.* I have a document titled “word hoard” in Dropbox where I keep all unusual, unfamiliar, or beautiful words I encounter as well as their function(s) and definitions. Most of these words haven’t properly entered my own lexicon yet, but actively being aware of words that are anywhere from slightly to completely outside what you usually use will help you become a more mindful writer.

* I got this idea from Barbara Baig’s Spellbinding Sentences, which is one of my favorite books I’ve ever read on writing.

Lack of Proofreading/Editing

The identification and elimination of repetition hovers somewhere between content editing and technical editing. It’s an easy problem to skim over, especially when you’re the writer because you’re likely too familiar with every word you’ve put down, and issues like this tend to fade into the background. This is particularly true of writers who have reworded or reorganized a given piece of writing, since repetition can easily become lost in the jumble.

If possible, set your project aside for at least a few days—preferably a few weeks or even longer—then come back to it and read it with fresh eyes while intentionally noting and commenting on or highlighting all uses of repetition, big and small. If you aren’t sure if it’s something you repeated, flag it anyway—you can always check later.

If you don’t have time to set the project aside for a while, read your work aloud. If you can’t bear reading your work aloud or you aren’t able due to circumstances, listen to the document instead. Word has a read aloud function, and there are many online text-to-speech websites where you can paste a piece of writing. The unnatural cadence of the artificial voice might be weird and awkward at first, but listening won’t fully engage the “reading” portion of your brain, and you’ll likely find it easier to notice uses of repetition, among other problems. While writing this post, I have listened through it three times, tweaking phrasing and eliminating repetition—and deleting some of the harsher statements—as I go.

If you’re feeling really brave, have another person read your writing back at you. Nothing like being uncomfortably hyperaware of every word you’ve put down to recognize pretty much every single problem within your work. Just do not overcompensate and decide that nothing you’ve written has any value at all (it does), or that you’ll need to change everything (you don’t). If you approach this method with the understanding that it’s going to be awkward but are nevertheless determined to get something useful out of it, you’ll benefit, especially if your reading partner is willing to help you with any areas you feel you need assistance in.

When editing for repetition, if possible, pay attention not only to noun/verb/adjective usage. Go deeper. What types of repetition are you prone to using? Do you begin a significant portion of your sentences with conjunctions? Are there certain conjunctions you use more frequently than others? Do you reiterate entire sentences two or more times with only slight variations in wording? Do you return to the same idea numerous times? What about tone, do you use lots of rhetorical questions? Sarcasm? Self-deprecation? Self-boasting? Do you frequently return to the same imagery or settings or use of metaphor? Or grammar—are there certain punctuation marks or grammatical conventions you use more than others? Do you have a sentence construction you consistently fall back on?

Again, some of these questions might require an outside opinion for you to find suitable answers, but becoming self-aware of not just what you do but why you do will help you recognize these patterns, which in turn can help you mentally eliminate repetition before it even makes it past your fingertips.

Lack of Confidence

Widespread repetition of sentences and ideas is often a major symptom of a writer who isn’t confident in their abilities to communicate what they’re talking about. “If I just tell you this fact again, surely you’ll believe me this time. I’ll make you believe me. Do you believe me now? What about now? Now? Now?”

The painful truth is... no.

Encountering mindless or fear-based repetition is extremely frustrating for readers. Inevitably, without fail, every single time I edit a book by a writer who has repeated themselves over and over and over again, with every single repetition, I increasingly doubt both their credibility and their ability to pass on important knowledge to me. I feel either patronized and insulted, or I feel annoyed because it seems like the author threw their thoughts down on paper in whatever order they came out and then hit publish with

no regard for how those thoughts will be perceived by others, and

no regard for how they are wasting the reader’s time.

Please, please do not undermine your credibility by repeating yourself. Readers usually only need to read information one time for them to absorb it, maybe twice, so trust your readers. If the reader needs to come back to information, they have that ability. Do not force unnecessary repetition in their faces. Always assume readers are at least as smart as you. If you don’t need the information repeated, give your readers the same respect.

Increasing your writing confidence will once again take time and effort. You’ll need to determine why you’re not confident and then seek out methods of correcting the issue(s). In general, fear of not being heard or understood tends to be the underlying cause of repetition, so learn how to be deliberate in your writing. Say what you mean to say. Say exactly what you mean to say. Understand that you have something important to share with the world, so share it—then stop. Readers will appreciate you for not wasting their time.

Writing for Yourself

Yesterday I finished editing a project just over 88,000 words. Nineteen chapters. Almost 250 pages.

I hated every word, and I learned nothing.

If it had been a line edit, I could’ve cut the book’s word count down below 50K merely by eliminating all of the repetition. This author is infatuated with the sound of their own voice, talked on and on and on merely to hear their own self-revelations and how special they are compared to everyone else stated again and again in near-identical sentences.

I’m editing another book right now that is less self-important and is far more interesting on the whole (and is thankfully over a hundred pages shorter), but again, the author has repeated themselves sometimes three or four or five times, with some phrases appearing over fifteen times, and I can feel my resentment growing. If an author isn’t going to take the time to put forth a thoughtfully crafted piece of writing, why should a reader likewise invest in it?

There is absolutely nothing wrong with writing for yourself. You should—you’ll learn a lot about yourself as both person and writer, and you’ll enjoy writing more, and you’ll (hopefully) be able to refine your skills.

But if—if—you intend to share your writing with the world, if you actually have something to say, you need to be aware that you have a duty to make yourself understood without wasting people’s time. Do not make people regret having picked up your writing by being so in love with the sound of your own voice that you are no longer courteous to others.

Love your writing. Love it fiercely and passionately and with reckless abandon, but reach a place where you know how your writing is going to be perceived at large. Use as many words as you need to get your point across and no more.

In Closing

If you’re still having difficulty identifying repetition within your own work, ask someone who is skilled at recognizing this issue to look over your writing. It’s always easier to recognize repetition when you haven’t written it, so fresh eyes can give you the insight you might not be able to see yourself.

Know your audience. A children’s book will require a different level of repetition than an instruction manual or a sci-fi novel or an autobiography. If you’re reading a recipe, you’d be annoyed and confused if the author told you to add the same ingredient twice due to shoddy proofreading. Write and repeat accordingly.

Whatever you’re writing, make a point of intentionally performing at least one round of editing with the intention of eliminating unnecessary repetition. Your readers will appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.

#writing #repetition #editing #proofreading #advice #red talks

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chromium7sky · 4 years ago

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The Devil wears Armani | chapter 12

A/n: I'm really sorry for the long hiatus of this au 😭. Finally got some spark about this update and I hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, guess who finally meet Raven? 😆😆

Raven finally reached her home after outing and small reunion with Karen. She remove her heels awkwardly as she yawned. It was a long night.

She tell Karen everything about what happen between her and Damian and of course minus the intimacy in his office.

-flash back-

Karen land her chin on her palm propped on the table as she listen to Raven's story. "You know, this is an interesting story though but did he knew about Melchior?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. " Why would I mention that jerk? Besides me and Damian still haven't declare about our relationship, I mean, he does flirt me back. Not to mention we did kiss..." Raven stop at the kissing part.

"Men can be complicated sometimes." She sighed as she take a bite from the cake she ordered.

"Couldn't agree more since I'm about to marry one." Karen wiggle her fingers that had betrothed ring on it.

Both designer and ex model giggled.

"I...I just hope Damian is serious about it. I'm quite invested my feeling for him." Raven chewed her lips.

"I hope so, Rachel. I hope he does." Karen smiled.

- end flashback-

Raven sighed on her bed after she change her clothes into night gown. "Gotta get some sleep because I'm going to meet him tomorrow. Should I ask again about us?"

Raven's mind wander about the golden question, her eyes start to droop as the cold night beckons her to the land of morpheus.

--------

Damian watched the E! Entertainment as he tidy up his studio to catch up any news on fashion industry then the anchorman, Josh Dirkmann said about a known designer from Europe came to town known as Melchior Draco.

"Melchior?" Damian arched his brows. Another designer in town? Maybe there's an event? And as soon as the reporter had some short interview with the silver hair gentlemen with black suit.

"So what makes you come to Gotham?" The reporter pointed the mic towards the designer.

"Well, a big company invited me to launched both of our collaboration and they said Gotham fit the aesthetic." He answered as he tug his silver hair behind his ears which earn a sneer from Damian as he watch the interview.

"Do you know Raven the designer?"

" Oh, yes. We did compete each other in Paris Fashion Show. She won first while I won second. It was a tough decision for the judges. Just so you know, between you and me, we kinda close during that time." Melchior slip out some interesting info towards the reporter.

The reporter almost gasped and demand for more answer but Melchior quickly waved away and walked towards the hotel lobby.

Damian quickly grab the remote control and closed the show.

" What do you mean close each other?" Both of his eyebrows knitted together. He closed his eyes and throw the remote at the couch. "It doesn't matter."

-------

Raven now in mess. The phone call came in nonstop just because of a statement when Melchior mention that both of them were close and the paparazzi possible sniffing out a scandal.

She sighed and landed her head on her desk. A hard knocking landed on her door makes her jolted. " Come in." As she turn her head towards the door.

Mona came in a hurry with an apologetic face. " Miss Rachel, I forgot to inform you that there will be a journalist came for your gala interview today. I'm really really sorry." Mona bow her head.

Raven stare blankly at Mona while her internal having conflict. 'First it's was Melchior statement and now interview? What...what should I do?'

Her palm start to sweat but quickly she fist up her hand. " When will be the journalist comes?"

The assistant girl check through her tablet. " In two hours."

"Who from where?"

"Jonathan Kent from Daily Planet, ma'am."

"Oh?" The same journalist who interview her winning success in fashion show. " Well, make sure escort him to my office and prepare our boarding room. Easier to execute it in there." Raven gives a stern order.

Mona nodded her head vigorously then quickly exit her room.

------------

She straighten her back as she heard a knock. She breath in. "Come in."

"Ms. Rachel!"

"Mona."

"A journalist came to meet you for Wayne's Gala interview." She gesture her hands towards a young man with curly hair and those prominent square glasses. "Mr. Jonathan Kent."

"Ah, Jonathan. Hi! It's been a while." Raven stretch her hand towards him.

Jon adjust his specs then handshake with her. "Thank you for letting me interview again , Ms. Roth." His face display his friendliness towards her.

Mona bowed her heads and quickly went out of her office. "How about we bring this interview to boarding room? More comfy?" Raven suggest about changing place.

"Yeah, you're right." Jon nodded.

Raven stood up and escort Jon to the meeting room for more proper place to interview.

She open the light switch and pull out a chair. " You can sit here."

"Ah, right, thank you." Jon smiled sheepishly as he pull the leather chair and sit, opposite with the owner of AMZ company.

" So, how long does this interview lasting?" Raven asked him as soon as she's in her seat and lean on the table with both of her hands propped on her chin.

"Well, not long, more or less 10 minutes." The journalist smile sheepishly. "Anyway..." He pull out his notebook, voice recording and a pen."Let us start with, how long you know Damian Wayne?"

"Well...since I was freshly involved in this industry, Mr Wayne offered me to promote myself at Gala." Raven calmly answer as she tried to cover Damian from being involve with fashion drawing class back in those days.

Jon then stopped the voice recording which made her jolted then adjust his specs. "You are the one who have the same class with him right?"

Raven almost gasped but she quickly act nonchalant as she tried to deny it . "Are you try to dig something from me, Mr Kent?"

"Ah, yes. Such as wanted to know more about Dami's secret girl." He smiled.

Dami? Her eyebrow arched as she heard the name. Why in the world he would address Damian that way? "You must be mistaking. We were only in term of business."

"Seriously? I thought you guys were serious." He's moping. "He did ask me about how to flirt a girl too. Man, he's really an emotional constipated." He laughed. "Besides, Dami said he haven't meet her in 3 years after he's graduated."

Raven with her eyes wide as she heard it from him. "HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?!" She quickly rised from the desk.

Jon jolted as he seen her reaction. " Ah, I guess that's why he keep a secret about his girl." Sweat drop start to rolled down on his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Let me introduce myself again."

Jon straighten his back and stretch his hand. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Kent. Dami' s childhood friend and school mate, same goes with roommate at uni and currently, a journalist." He smiled.

Raven tried to process all the information at once and it takes a few moment. "So, you are Damian's close friend?" She point out with as she narrowed her eyes.

"That's right!" Jon's smile getting wider.

"Ah, hello." She slowly put her hands on him which Jon grab it and makes a several shake as he excited to met her.

"It's really pleasure to meet you by the way! For sure if Maya and Colin knew about you they will be screaming or teasing him saying Dami has finally grown up!" He laughed.

Raven sit on her chair with unsure feeling. First the confession, then his childhood friend meet her, and then what? A wedding? She press her lips into a thin line.

"You know, Dami is not that kind of guy when it comes to women. He always thought they were hyenas." Jon chuckled.

"Hyenas?" Raven puzzled. "What's with hyenas?"

"Ever since he lives in Gotham, he always seen his father been in and out with other women who prey for money. Still, poor him having lack of parent's love." Jon sighed.

That explain why he's being hard on anyone. Raven attentively listen to Jon's story. "You know, he has pets like a zoo at his house. From cow to snakes. I remember when I came, This Alfred the cat always sulking and threaten to scratch me."

"An animal lover? That much?" Both of Raven's eyebrow jumpy as she heard it. She could imagine if Damian standing on the field, as birds will land on him, it either makes him look like Disney princess or a scarecrow.

"Most of them are animal rescue." Jon nodded.

"I see..." Then Raven suddenly remember something. "How did Damian took fashion drawing class by the way?"

"Actually we suggested to him. I mean seriously, you haven't seen his potrait and figure drawing, Those are amazing! He most likely to observe the surrounding and draw on his sketch book while on his free time."

Wait. Does that means Damian has a secret sketch book like her? Raven unconsciously put her hands on her lips.

"Still, what makes you suspect it was me? I mean we haven't contact it for a while."

"Other than he told me that he haven't met her in three years, I've seen a drawing that looks just like you at his studio." Jon smiled.

There it is.

Raven sighed and there's a slightly red tint on her ears.

"Why you haven't contact him when he's in middle east?" Jon asked curious question.

"It was because when I know that he's Damian Wayne, I..I was screwed. I mean, Wayne as in Wayne Enterprise. The biggest contributor on east side. Me? I'm just, just an orphan girl who try to rise my own feet."

"Oh?"

"My mother died when I was 14. I still don't know who were my father is and all I got is this necklace from my mother." She showed the necklace to Jon.

The young journalist seems to be fasinating with it's design. "I wonder where did your mother got this?"

Raven sighed as she try to remember. " I'm not sure. All I remember that it's been in heritage for years."

"I see." Jon rubbed his chin. "Well, Maybe you should hang up with us sometimes. I'm sure Colin and Maya would love to see you." He smiled.

"The thing is, Jon. I'm still unclear about between us." Raven chewed her lips.

"Ah nonsense, he really likes you. I can see from the way he look at you."

"Is it? Wait, where did you saw him see me?"

"I think it was two day before?"

Raven slap both of her cheeks. OH MY GOD, HE SAW BOTH OF US KISSING.

"And don't worry. I won't tell a soul, though, I've been warn by him and probably will be dig out by Colin and Maya." Jon widen his smile as sweat start to rolled down on his cheek."Dami has been my friend of more than a decade. I understand the way he express himself."

Raven nodded slowly. " Jon, a question."

"Yeah?"

"Since you are a journalist, do you know anything about Melchior?" Raven voice change to serious tone.

"That Silver Blond guy?"

"Yeah."

" I heard he's having collaboration with a big company. However, another speculation I heard that he choose Gotham because of its mysterious aesthetic."

"Well, uh, there's something I heard during interview. He claimed that we were close during the fashion show competition."

Raven as stared at the desk.

"Been wondering myself too. Are you close to him?" Jon's curious eyes start to lit.

"We do only for a while but the thing is he stole my design during that time which I never forgive myself for letting me get fooled by him." Raven sighed then she looked at Jon. "Wait. Don't tell me you're going to put this on paper?"

"Wait, I get it." Jon again propped his hand on his chin. "No wonder I've seen familiarity design between both of you. Plus you're having a hard time too."

"Uh, Jon?"

"I think I found something to investigate." Jon's mischievous smiles start to paint on his face.

"Now you act like Damian."

"Damian is more hardcore. I'm still on the average level." Jon beamed his happy face on her.

"Well, I think our interview stopped here. Besides, I need to cover some story from Me Wayne itself about the gala."

"Dami?"

"Yep."

"So, nice to meet you, Ms. Rachel Roth. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"It's been a pleasure to spill tea with you." Raven smug.

Jon blinked then put on his mischievous smile.

-------

Somewhere in his office, Damian sneezed for no reason. " Is it me or is this office are getting colder?" He looked at the air ventilation.

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you-are-all-weirdos · 3 years ago

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Burn, Baby, Burn

Next time you hear someone bring up the phrase "fire in a crowded theater," please ask if that means they support the draft.

See, that’s what that quote refers to. Schenck v. United States was a case in which Charles Schenck of the Executive Committee of the Socialist Party in Pennsylvania mailed letters to men who were going to be drafted urging them to refuse to serve. He felt that it was immoral to force men who did not wish to fight into uniform. That it, in fact, constituted slavery.

That is the kind of speech being argued against by that phrase. So does our hypothetical censor favour the draft?

And, by the way, the full quote is this: “The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man in falsely shouting fire in a theatre and causing a panic.”

Oliver Wendell Holmes wasn’t saying “this is a limit on freedom of speech, therefore there are limits on freedom of speech, therefore it’s okay to arrest people from hurting my feelings.” Let’s be clear: regardless of how you feel about conscription, Charles Schenck was telling people to break the law. Justice Holmes’s famous quote means “free speech shouldn’t protect people from saying things that will cause people to commit harmful acts.”

And he was wrong.

Or... maybe not exactly wrong. He was overly broad. “Don’t say things that might lead to harmful acts” sounds good in principle, and it’s probably something we should hold to in our day-to-day lives, but as a matter of law it’s a nightmare. I mean... do we start arresting people for saying “be gay, do crimes” on the grounds that they’re encouraging lawless acts?

That’s where questions of intent, of imminence, and likelihood comes in. Did you mean to cause someone to do something illegal, would the things you said cause someone to do something illegal right now, and could you have possibly known that the things you said would actually cause someone to commit a crime.

See, it’s not enough to say things that might inspire people to do bad things. If I say I think anyone who tries to order drive thru from the passenger seat is subhuman, that doesn’t rise to the level of a crime. Is it hateful? Sure. It might even be a genuine expression of deep and abiding animus. But I haven’t directed anyone to do anything unlawful, nor would anyone reasonable expect that statement to result in such acts.

If I turned around and said that guy thinks that putting grated mozzarella on gravy fries turns it into a poutine. Let’s hang him from a lamp pole... well, now we’re getting closer. I’ve said we should do it now, and my statement constitutes a clear set of instructions. If I then actually try to string our hypothetical heathen up, then that makes proving intent much easier... because that’s the third question. Did I actually mean to cause people to commit a crime? I might have been joking.

This set of criteria is called the Brandenburg Test. It was established by the case Brandenburg v. Ohio in 1969, which at least partially overturned Schenck.

A lot of the time, the kind of person who uses “fire in a crowded theater” is arguing that they should be able to ban speech that they think is harmful whether it constitutes a sincere and direct call to action or not. To prohibit “utterances inimical to the public welfare, tending to incite crime, disturb the public peace, or endanger the foundations of” whatever particular flavour of social order they prefer.

Did that look like a quote? That’s because it was. It’s from the Supreme Court’s decision in Whitney v. California in 1927. Charlotte Anita Whitney had been arrested for her part in founding the Communist Labor Party of America.

The state asserted that Whitney’s party was trying to teach people to violently overthrow the government. Whitney insisted she was doing nothing of the sort, that she simply wanted to teach people what she thought was a better way that the country might be run. In the end, the Supreme Court decided that it didn’t matter if she was actually inciting people to violent revolt; simply spreading Communist ideas would create an environment in which violence was more likely and thus must be made illegal.

Sound familiar? Remove “Communist” and substitute “racist” or “fascist” or “right wing” and see if that doesn’t ring any bells.

The good news is that the United States has already heard that argument. It’s not new and it’s not unique to any particular point on the political spectrum. And not only has the US heard that argument, it’s since rejected it.

So yes. There are limits on free speech in the United States... but they are, and should always be narrowly limited in order to prevent their abuse. And if you think it’s okay to pry those limits open wider because you’re only going to use them against people you disagree with, then I’m sorry, but you clearly have no sense of history.

#1a #Free Speech #Freeze Peach #Brandenburg Test #Fire in a Crowded Theater #Brandenburg v. Ohio #Schenck v. United States #Whitney v. California #IANAL

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magiaordinaria · 4 years ago

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In Defense of Frida Kahlo

◊please see my note on these images at the end of the post, because yes, this is a form of imitation for the sake of expressing desire to belong.

Frida Kahlo has become a difficult subject, some would argue an easy target- which to me is tragic because she was a person with a life and with struggles and today she can no longer defend herself. I personally think she doesn’t have to. I understand her as a historical figure that shaped Mexican history and the Mexican image. Lately I found myself understanding her on a different, more personal level when in October 2020 I came across an episode of the Nerdy Latinas Podcast, who were responding to a Tweet by an Indigenous Mexican woman accusing Frida of cultural appropriation. My interest was piqued.

“Frida was Mexican. How is it appropriation?” I thought.

In the episode, Chismeando About Frida Kahlo, the hosts explore Frida’s background and a bit of her social context. I listened and I recommend you do too. I gave a few comments to one of the hosts and was later invited to share my thoughts on the episode.* Below is bit of background and my response to the episode follows after that.

Prologue

When I initially listened to the episode my gut reaction was to become defensive, protective of Frida, despite not having had a single artifact of hers (my stance on purchasing her work or her image is a different story). I began to explore those feelings, and once I talked myself through this gut reaction, I realized this is actually very much worth exploring. It’s important to take into account the complexity of the social, personal, and historical context that Frida was experiencing and a part of.

One of the things the Nerdy Latinas brought up was the fact that Mexican schools during Frida’s childhood emphasized that the indigenous cultures of Mexico were the true cultures of Mexico. Frida, it is well-known, is half german and half Mexican. This conflict in identity was something that I deeply related to as a Mexican woman born in the US.

They pointed out that there were indigenous women who spoke out about Frida’s use of their clothing at the time, but were ignored. In the same episode, they talk about how indigenous women who make these clothes live off the sale of their indigenous clothing- Which makes me think, who is allowed to buy or not buy these clothes? It reassured me that there is more to cultural appropriation than simply wearing or using things “not intended for you”. Does intent matter? How are we verifying a person’s, in this case Frida Kahlo’s, intent? Short answer is, we can’t really.

Later in the episode, they ask the question, why aren’t other dark-skinned Mexican women artists spoken about? There are many indigenous artists that were overshadowed by Frida. An important example they bring up is Maria Izquierdo (ees-kee-ehr-doh). She was a contemporary of Frida’s and a student of Diego Rivera. She was doing well in her time and “showing promise” according to Diego himself. But when she spoke out against Frida’s feminist group Izquierdo lost a prestigious art commission to Diego Rivera and his male artist friends. I consider this claim of overshadowing pretty unfair, because it’s not entirely up to Frida who gets seen or not. And if we’re being perfectly honest, Diego and his friends probably jumped at the opportunity to take it for themselves.

She is still, after the paint dries, a woman in a white man’s world.

In my response, I come from a personal perspective with a lifetime of identity crises to fuel it. I focus in on the question of whether Frida can be accused of appropriation as well the concept of appropriation itself.

Is it fair to say that Frida had all the cards in her hands?

Is it productive to be upset over her perceived appropriation when there is so much today that is so blatantly grossly appropriated and mocked from my culture?

My Response:

“I definitely think it’s worth exploring Frida’s Use of clothing. I think, understandably, it brought up a lot of personal feelings because it’s something that I personally grapple with; this idea that my appearance could constitute grounds for appropriation.

...I think when Hispanic*** Americans learn about negative criticisms of Frida Kahlo they take the criticisms personally because that’s what they and myself included..., understood it looked like to be Mexican.

And if she’s wrong about her use fo clothing, it can’t easily be understood as an homage or as uplifting or as an act of rebellion against the whitewashing of the Mexican culture, which i think is something that is important when you live outside of Mexico. I think hispanic people--we just want to take care that our culture and our identity doesn’t get erased. so without the clothing that Frida wore the rest of us have only what we are calling the colonizer’s version of how to present ourselves as Mexicans.

Additionally, I didn’t really find her mixed ethnicity all that significant because since Mexico’s inception as a hispanic country most if not all non indigenous Mexicans are mixed.

our DNA is a map of people having been invaded, transcontinental travel in Europe, and slavery,

so i never really understood Frida as a white woman, even though her father was german. I’m 48% indigenous, the rest is North African, European--and on top of that I’m born in the US. That’s all to say that Mexican is a complex ethnicity but it’s Mexican all the same. I do see Frida as separate from indigenous and I’m also understanding that the way a person lives the culture is important. Personally, I feel sometimes I can’t consider myself Mexican if I’m not living the cultural practices. I find it hard to justify, for example, celebrating Day of the Dead. In contrast, I feel a responsibility to connect with those aspects of my culture in order to feel like I belong somewhere, or I know who I am, what my point of view is, and what I could do in order to impart a positive view of my culture to the Americans watching me now.

My thoughts are maybe Frida [thought so] too. In a way, maybe that was her intention. This episode brings up the idea of a crisis of identity for Frida and I think because she was born in a time when Europeanism** was being criticized heavily her schooling was perhaps in reaction to that. To give you a very popular example, the poem La Calavera Garbancera° most commonly known as La Calavera Catrina was written by Jose Guadalupe Posada around when Frida was born. That icon we have today (La Catrina) was actually a symbol of derision for Mexicans adopting European values. And I think when you’re taught certain ideals in the wider space in which you’re meant to integrate, it’s going to create a conflict between the way you’re raised and how you would like to see yourself in order to fell like you belong. So a personal example would be me growing up in the US. Saying the word Mexican was like saying a dirty word. For a very long time I was convinced that I should be ashamed of saying that. I tried more and more to become what was considered American- which was synonymous with being “correct” and for that I have been called a coconut or whitewashed by the same people who would deride me for being so Hispanic.

Today I want to undo all of that,

and i find myself [thinking] if I buy from indigenous craftswomen a handwoven dress to wear and to show to my wider audience that “this is Mexico, this is what indigenous women can do and it’s beautiful,” I fear I’ll face the same criticisms as Frida when I genuinely find [the dresses/clothing] lovely to wear and I only want to support the craftswomen of Mexico. So I don’t think appropriation happens when you buy indigenous crafts directly from indigenous men and women. As an artist myself, I would think they’d want to sell as much as they could, sharing their pride in their work. I think appropriation is buying from American corporations that are making money off of a diluted form of culture from oppressed people, stealing those complex designs expertly executed by thousands of years of knowledge and skill. To buy these goods from white companies, from huge manufacturers is to really whitewash culture. And on the flip side, I think it would be way worse for me to say,

oh no I’m not buying from indigenous people because I’m not indigenous.

But then turn around and buy something cheap from a huge manufacturer instead.

I think there’s room in this conversation to believe that Frida felt some kind of genuine desire and made a genuine attempt to connect to the Mexican identity she was taught in school.

I think she made a choice to embody what she felt was fundamentally Mexican but to what end, I honestly can’t say. Was it to bring awareness? was it to feel like she belonged? was it a statement? And that’s the thing we just can’t be sure.

All of this is not to say she didn’t offend people, and in the process took the light away from indigenous women. Or that this topic isn’t worth confronting. I was confronted with the question, though, of how much of that is or was her fault or her intention and how much of that is the time she lived in and her society’s discrimination. I’m glad you guys brought up her social milieu because

it matters a lot who were and are the voices speaking of her and approving her for public consumption.

I think Frida’s international travels and being on the cover of Paris’s vogue at the time, and the mystique she built around herself coupled with the fact that her skin color was internationally acceptable made her the icon that she is today around the world. That much is true, but can it also be true she made an honest attempt to honor Mexican heritage in defiance of those popular racist attitudes? I think there’s room for that.

I don’t think it’s entirely fair to say Frida is guilty of appropriation not really today, especially because we have much more blatant and grossly offensive forms of appropriation happening in our time. I’m sure I don’t need to go into that if you do a simple google search of “Mexican Costume” you can actually find white people dressing up as caricatured versions of Mexicans.

So I think a more productive conversation regarding appropriation in our world and in our culture today would be how to teach our diaspora across the globe to value handmade crafts. sure it can be more expensive, but you’re not buying a single object, you’re buying hundreds of years of knowledge and tradition. I would even argue that homemade is preferable to buying cheap, ready made stuff from corporations that have no regard for tradition or quality and who are actually drawing attention away from indigenous communities and diluting our cultures.”

Further Musings/Conclusion

I think that we are learning a valuable lesson in what is done is done, but what do we do now? My main concern is that there is outrage over the women that Frida Kahlo “overshadowed”,

but the simplest solution is to stop talking about these indigenous artists within the context–in the shadow– of Frida Kahlo.

They should be spoken about in their own right. If the dialogue about these women doesn’t revolve around or rely on Frida and her history, it would do these women justice. They are out there and they can exist. The problem is, how to talk about them without drawing comparisons to Frida? Should we avoid placing them in the same context? Questions for which I personally lack the answers right now.

What I do know is that I think we should avoid turning this into a situation where we tear down one woman-

who in the grand scheme of things accomplished a lot- in order to raise another. No, no mijita, as my mom would say. Eso no se hace, that’s not something we should do.

This feels too much like a situation in which someone like Frida becomes the target of appropriation because it’s easier than confronting really tough situations like white companies selling “ceremonial grade” chocolate.

Let’s tackle that sometime.

Personally, as you may have been able to tell, I understand Frida from the perspective of a person caught in the middle of two worlds. I don’t exactly feel like I belong in my American homeland nor in my familial, ancestral home of Mexico. I am part of a community that feels a sense of disconnection from our roots and therefore, lack meaning; we lack a true sense of self. But the more I interact with others like me, the more I create a community for myself, the more I understand that my place is where I want to be seen. I think it’s possible that that’s what Frida chose.

notes

◊This set of pictures is a type of homage centered around a very conscious imitation. I created these images back in September 2020 about a month before I learned of the Frida Kahlo tweet or the podcast episode. They were created in an attempt to portray a desire to belong to the culture I come from. Everything worn is a symbolic imitation in search of identity. In contrast to the last set of images where I wear the braid headband again. Here it is inspired by, rather than imitation; a carrying forward of traditions (like those seen here) into a more understandable form for myself. The evolution of the outfit is taking me one step closer to figuring out what my place is and what my voice is within the greater scope of my Mexican heritage.

*I recorded a few thoughts in audio format, sent it off to Short Latina and that was that. To what extent my comments were included, I’m not sure, I haven’t had the chance to listen to their follow up episode. Perhaps I was proven completely wrong!

**Europeanism- I know it’s not a real word, but It felt right :P

***I imagine Frida is important to a lot of Latinx, but for the purposes of this argument, I specifically mean Mexicans and Mexican-Americans because of the specific ties to cultural attire.

°It’s actually called: Remate De Calaveras Alegres y Sandungueras; Las que hoy son empolvadas Garbanceras pararan en deforme calaveras

#frida kahlo #frida #kahlo #khalo #frida khalo #appropriation #cultural appropriation #chicana #middle child #xicana #chicanx #born in the USA #whitewashed #mexican #mexican heritage #you are allowed to disagree

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

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“K SIDE: PURPLE 10”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

"Now he's tense!"

When Soma entered the room, that voice rang out.

About 10 men flocked to a section of a large spacious room. It looked like the cushions were scattered around the threadbare tatami mats, and that it was just a play area. He didn't have an intermediate basin, and he wondered if it was okay to bet in the area where everything was happening simply with a swing.

"Okay, here we go!"

The men pile up a wad of bills before the day, as invited by the tantalizing voice. Some are scorched and some are bloody. It is "loot" brought from the "battlefield". It is the custom of their predecessors that they often brought money, although they did not have much space or time to spend. Members of the underworld are obsessed with money.

"The pieces are ready. The game. Niroku no Ding!"

When the two dice emerged from under the bowl, the men cheered and sighed. Soma looked at him coldly. Although it was a life that could not be known tomorrow, they were both silly and funny, as they could be happy and sad like the eyes of a rhinoceros.

When…

Soma noticed that one of them did not tremble.

Their synonyms for black suits have been removed to expose the upper body. The impressive Japanese carved tattoos on his back, however, were mostly covered in red-black burns.

"Purgatory" Sword No. 3, Hiiragi Toma.

Soma's target person.

While he was sitting with one knee upright, Hiiragi was rolling a saber onto his side. He must have been stolen from "Scepter 4" during the last conflict. Like a swordsman, even the people of "Purgatory", who have an image of evil, are keeping a distance.

After breathing for a bit, Soma stood next to Hiiragi.

"Are you not feeling well, Hiiragi?"

"……"

Hiiragi looked at Soma with only his eyes. Eyes like a light buried in ash. Soma accepted the pressure of the line of sight, which would be to pass out just by looking directly at an ordinary person, with a smile.

"I have something I want to ask you. You have a little time, right?"

"Let's do it later."

Hiiragi replied briefly. Soma looked at the tatami in front of Hiiragi and shrugged slightly.

"Oh, that's right. Well, I'll wait for you here."

He took the cigarette out of the pack and lit it with the "lighter" to the left of him. Soma vaguely eyed the entire gambling house, smoking purple smoke. It was like the air that swayed there. A kind of atmosphere that is natural for "Purgatory" to breathe.

That's it.

"The pieces are ready. The game."

The hand, swinging the bowl, tried to reveal the rhino's eyes.

A steel-colored saber crashed against the tatami.

"Eh, aaaaaaaaaaagh?!"

Along with the screams, the finger swinging the bowl, rolled. Fresh blood overflowed from the cross section, staining the tatami mats red and black. As he distorted his face in severe pain, he was still screaming in anger.

"Well what are you doing, Hiiragi?"

He shook the saber like a great snake and cut his hand in half, but Hiiragi's face didn't show any change. The holly was fluffy, with a dull top.

"Soma."

"Oh?"

"In our group, I did this for the madman."

Soma laughed as he smoked a cigarette.

This guy must have been a newcomer who had just entered "Purgatory." If he had met a human named Hiiragi even if he was a little bit, he would never have been able to imitate such behavior. Or maybe it could just be an accurate statement, maybe he just wanted to use it as an excuse to use violence

Well, it doesn't matter what it is. Soma tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with the toe of his shoe.

"It is not a game; do you think such an answer is valid just because you are an executive?"

Hiiragi didn't reply anything with a serious expression. As he gritted his teeth in anger, he stepped on the mat with his left foot. From the burns that cover that story, a flame of extraordinary skill coiled vigorously.

A red light flashed on Soma's left hand.

A high-pressure, high-temperature "whip" that stretches freely at his will. Squirming like a snake targeting his prey, the light shot through his left eye and leaped through the back of his head as it was.

The mutilated body, which lost its brain function, fell.

Hiiragi looked at Soma. That hand was still holding the saber.

"Don't do extra things."

Soma snorted like a fool.

"If you go crazy, it's hard to clean up afterwards. Wear that fine style only outside."

His ability is activated from the tattoo engraved on his back. His power as a combat afterburner was not used in such a room.

Hiiragi kept looking at Soma, but when he looked away as if he had lost interest, he stopped there.

"Clean it up."

"Yes."

Several members of the clan took control and began to clean the tatami mats, bundles and corpses surrounded by gushing blood. There is nothing to blame for the violence. Hiiragi is an executive, not because he is a newcomer to the place, but because Hiiragi is stronger.

There is nothing in "Purgatory" that can be called order. There is only one measure of strong or weak. Those who fought and survived are strong, and those who died are weak. And the weak and the dead are equally useless. That was the only reason the clan welcomed the "King of Violence".

"So, what?"

At Hiiragi's question, Soma finally remembered his business.

"Oh, yeah. Where is the other one who was with you now?"

"......"

"Baraki...?"

Hiiragi frowned. The guy should have been attached to Hiiragi's subordinates, but he doesn't seem to remember him.

Soma was shocked and explained in a way that Hiiragi could understand.

"Look, he came in a few months ago, "right hand" and..."

"Oh, that boy."

Humans who have received the installation of the "Red King" will surely destroy a part of his body with vicious energy as if reflecting the nature of Kagutsu. In Soma it was the little finger of the left hand, in Hiiragi's case it was the back and in Baraki's case it was the right hand.

The damaged part also serves as a means to activate different abilities. Sometimes it is quicker to say what he lost than to remember his face.

Hiiragi shook his head slightly.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while."

"That's right. My subordinate."

"I don't remember who lived and who died."

In "Purgatory", the death of a member of the clan is a daily event. Some die in battle with "Scepter 4", while others die in the inner circle of clan members, like the guy above. It seems that the martial arts group does not intend to remind the staff to be replaced to metabolize.

"He's either dead or trapped. It's not a weird story."

"Well, that's correct. I'm sure I haven't seen any other guys, and I'm sure they're gone."

"What's wrong with that guy?"

Looking back at Hiiragi's emotionless eyes, Soma shrugged.

"I got information to make money, but it seems they didn't tell me everything. So I thought I'd listen to you."

In this case, it would be more accurate to say "listen to the body" rather than "listen to the story." Hiiragi is also a person who originally belonged to an antisocial organization. So the story was fast.

"So he flew. Do you want to chase him?"

Not many members of the clan escape from "Purgatory". Originally, all who enter are daredevils who have no place in this world. There they can burn your life.

It is a group of lost people who do not know about the life and death of the moment, but there are exceptions to everything.

"I am sorry..."

Soma put his hand on his chin and pondered. From his own information from the registry, the question is whether traitors and fugitives can be left alone. "Purgatory" is not oscillating.

First of all, Kagutsu himself, who is the "King", must make him wonder if he doesn't believe that he belongs to the organization.

"So if you see him, you take a suitable frame."

"I understood."

Hiiragi laughed slightly. In fact, it is an order to kill. For Hiiragi, who has fallen from an antisocial organization to "Purgatory", the only thing that can burn his life is the exchange of lives with others.

As he held the saber, Hiiragi walked calmly. Seeing his back, Soma lit a cigarette again and inhaled purple smoke.

++++++++++

As he walked down the back alley so as not to expose himself, Noriya Baraki looked back many times.

There were no other figures than Baraki among the buildings where he rained heavily. Still, he couldn't shake the illusion that someone was chasing him, and he walked quickly with his shoulders hunched.

The dirty clothes that he was wearing, he took off a homeless person with bad luck, and although he smelled strong, he could not do otherwise. The black suit is synonymous with "Purgatory", he cannot wear such a thing forever.

He is no longer a member of "Purgatory".

Baraki belonged to "Purgatory" for the same reason that he joined the Ashima group. He thought it was a gathering of strong people. This is because there is one side that can exploit the weak as they please. So he gave Soma most of the information about the "assets" that he knew about and asked him to put them in the "Burning House". Even if he lost his right hand, he thought that, if he was a proof of a strong man, it would be like losing his little finger.

But…

Baraki realized that he was wrong.

"Purgatory" is not a group of strong men. It was a group of abnormal people.

The violence they wielded at will sometimes robbed the members themselves. Those facing the sword were killed. Those who fear were killed. And the unfortunate one was killed. Kagutsu Genji. That monster called "King" caused death and destruction just by being there. Literally, in "Purgatory", everyday life was next to death.

It is not an environment that can be tolerated by a decent nervous owner. Either they will die early or they will run away. And it's just one of them on a sunny day.

Baraki looked back again.

"Scepter 4" is not the only enemy of "Purgatory". Many anti-social organizations that establish conflicts, almost at random, also see "Purgatory" as their enemy. Similarly, those who strayed from there tended to be attacked more fiercely because there was no reception from the organization.

That is why he must hurry. Get what he wants and fly somewhere far away.

North or south, anywhere, out of reach of those monsters, somewhere far away.

When Baraki turned around for the third time, he appeared in the alley.

"Hey, Baraki."

While he was wearing the black suit, he was laughing, or not. He looks like he was laughing. Burns that jump from the edge of his lips to his temples make his face look like a smile.

"I've been looking for you. Where are you going?"

When he took a step to start running, his foot stopped. One in a black suit with a saber in hand blocked the way. The hand without the saber was badly burned, leaving only two fingers.

They both had familiar faces. They were under Hiiragi's orders.

The one with his "fingers" gasped.

"Hiiragi-san is looking for you."

The one with the burned "lips", he said.

"Which is better, being alive or charred? I'll let you choose according to the kindness of your former colleague."

Baraki put his right hand to his chest.

His heart was pounding hard like a bell and his usual face was bleeding. There was no escape because he was surrounded from the front and the back.

That means this alley, where he completely rains, has become his death.

From the moment he ran away, he had a feeling this would happen.

"Purgatory", "Scepter 4", Kagutsu Genji, Habari Jin. From the moment he got involved in the war of monsters that manipulated different abilities like burning dust, it was confirmed that his fate would be like this.

But still, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live.

Just that feeling propelled Baraki out of the swamp of despair. Baraki may have been small, but they weren't stupid enough to think they could live without doing anything.

If you want to live, you have to fight. It is a lodging business that is also run by those born in this world.

A flame came out of Baraki's right hand.

Guren's palm, which is one size larger than that of humans. The only weapon Baraki possessed colored the alleys that smoked in the rain red.

"Ku."

"Lips" in the back he laughed, and "fingers" in front of him raised his burned hand in front of his face and muttered.

"Yes. You will be charred."

(That's what will happen to you!)

Instead of yelling, he spat, and Baraki kicked the ground and raised his fiery hand towards "fingers".

++++++++++

Under the eaves in front of the station, Hase waited with his bag.

He had been raining lightly since morning, but he didn't have an umbrella due to Hase's nature. As he practiced, Mishakuji suddenly remembered that he was waving a wooden sword while turning into a wet mouse, regardless of whether it was raining or snowing.

Hase noticed Yukari and smiled.

"Oh. You came, Yukari. It's early!"

As Yukari smiles, he tips his umbrella and walks over to Hase.

"Sensei. There are still 30 minutes until the meeting time."

He hears that the place they were heading to from now on, where Miwa Ichigen lives, was in the mountains, which took almost half a day from here. However, Hase's luggage was a bad backpack and there seemed to be no decent change of clothes. With a strange look, Hase also looked at the carrying bag dropped by Yukari with similar eyes.

However, there is only one thing the two people have in common.

Yukari has a sheath that hangs from his shoulder and Hase has a sheath that hangs from his back. To put it the other way around, if you have this, you don't need any other luggage.

"Did you say hello to Sayuri-san before you left?"

Hase wondered such a thing as they entered the station together. Yukari shook his head.

"No, it looks like she was drinking late last night, so I left without saying hello."

"Haha, that's right. Well, it's the beginning of her beloved son. Maybe we all wanted to celebrate."

"It doesn't mean I won't be back."

Hase slaps Yukari's wet back with his big palm.

"I know, I know! You are a man of your word, don't worry!"

Having said that, he laughed at his arrogance.

Dissatisfied Yukari's lips were sharp. Still, it wasn't as frustrating as It used to be. He can always go back to "Nibangai". He will always be able to find the people who live there. That is why Yukari was motivated to take a step into a larger world, as they expected.

He only knows Miwa Ichigen from Hase's story. He's not an eloquent person, but his sword skills were the most beautiful thing Yukari had ever seen in his life. Every time he thought of Miwa's sword, who made Hase say, "I've never seen anything more beautiful than that.", he was excited.

He wanted to see it as soon as possible and, if possible, he would like to make adjustments and acquire it. Driven by painful expectations, Yukari was encouraged and headed for the ticket vending machine.

A roar echoed from a distance.

"……"

A heavy and low sound, like the sound of the earth. Yukari stopped and turned to that side.

The moment he instinctively felt that "Nibangai" was in the right direction, he heard the second sound.

It was a continuous roar. The sound of something exploding and burning, like you heard in war movies. Perhaps Hase noticed that, he turned his face towards him with his dull expression.

The two jumped out of the station at the same time.

Black smoke billowed in the direction of "Nibangai" past the shops and multi-tenant buildings lined up in front of the station. When swallowed it, a red-black explosion broke out many times. At the sight of the rain, the reflection of the flames that stained the streets red was reflected in Yukari's eyes like something terrible.

"Hey, Yukari! Wait!"

Hase's voice came from behind and, for the first time, Mishakuji realized that he was running.

Still, his legs didn't stop. He dropped the bag that was obstructive, and just grabbed the wooden sword that he had taken out of the sheath, Yukari ran in a straight line. Heading for his hometown, "Nibangai" surrounded by smoke and flames.

#k #k project #k side purple #mishakuji yukari #k fan clan

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mclegibilist · 3 years ago

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Typification Enforces Anti-Inductivity in the Game of Authenticity

Epistemic Status: Broad strokes of common gameplay.

Why is being authentic "hard"? Why is it something you have to try at?

Personally, I believe that being "authentic" is fundamentally a matter of being understood. I've seen people twist themselves into knots about how if you were a true Scotsman then you would just be able to be yourself, but I can't really see how we'd have much acquaintance with such people: eventually their notions of authenticity would butt-up against some societal norm and they would be pushed out. Most of the arguments I've heard against this seem to implicitly rely on an unawakened power of unparalleled proportions that being authentic gives you. I think this confuses authenticity and self-knowledge, and most people who we encounter with good self-knowledge are pragmatic enough to (a) know how to talk to other people in their native emotional language (b) never, ever say that they're always manipulating and restructuring their messages in order to get the most significant bits across and risk seeming inauthentic.

A lot of people who struggle with finding their authentic self tend to reach for intrinsic explanations for why authenticity is a hard problem, usually along the lines of "You've become estranged from yourself while trying to please other people, so you need to rediscover who you really are." As @in-stenography has pointed out before, we should be a bit skeptical about what it is we're discovering, and if we have any method of distinguishing between discovering and inventing.

So, take on my premise for a moment or stop reading here: authenticity is mostly invented personae, meant to incept elements of one's own self-image in the minds of others.

Why is that a hard problem?

Don't worry, I won't go full Robin Hanson on you, it's obvious why this is hard! There's no easy way to enforce honest signaling for lots of attributes people want to lay claim to like "honest" or "sexually experienced", "punctual" is a bit easier and consequently feels trivial.

Yet, we do traverse social landscapes and I would argue, on average, we do so very effectively. The average person in my broad social circles can almost immediately get across a persona, that may later come into question, but which is usually supported by initial markers or surrogates for the kinds of things we actually care about.

Sometimes, though, someone manages to feel "fresh" without (looking like they're) trying too hard. They, through pure interaction, describe a character they are that doesn't make you bucket them immediately. You get to know them, and you're amazed to find that they are, at least partially, who they say they are and begin the true exploration of friendship and actually getting to know each other.

Why can't everyone do this?

The answer is in "typification", terminology that @spilledreality introduced me to, which originates from Alfred Schütz, the philosopher and social phenomenologist. I will not use this term exactly as he did; I believe it is a basic pillar of knowledge logistics that we must make our references nods, but rely only on our presented definitions. Call this "portable foundations"—I don't want to rely on experts' interpretations of other people's definitions, I want to rely on what I can explain to you in our shared context.

Typification, as I define it, is an inherent property of cognition and expressible knowledge, basically that definitions are inherently categories. The best way to understand is to take literally any statement and see why it relies on typification, so I just took a random sentence from a random CNN article:

A North Port Police spokesperson declined to comment on the report.

What is "North Port Police"? It's a kind of bureaucratic body, we assume has certain properties because of the other similar bodies we are familiar with. We can go look it up, and we'll understand it as an entity of certain overlapping types: an employer, an arm of the executive branch, etc.

What does it mean to "comment on"—we can understand that there is some kind of message indicated by this action, but it goes much deeper. When people "comment" on things they generally have something to say about its fitness, or about some salient property that's meaningful to a the present crowd. And because the subject is a government body, that crowd is assumed to be the public.

All of this information is transferred by our understanding of "types of things"—types of entities, types of actions, types of properties. Maybe this seems obvious, but consider the opposite: what if we had some basic properties and we could mix them in any proportion like a color palette? Certainly we think some parts of the universe are like this, e.g. physical color. Yet we tend to refer to colors by types, e.g., red, yellow, mauve, maroon, etc. We tend to understand things through types, and language's focus on reusable categories is both a cause and a byproduct of this fact.

When person A discovers a way to present themselves authentically, every person who sees a little bit of themselves in the expression A managed to thread through the gravitational fields of the present-at-hand types will immediately engage in the most natural human process: memetic analysis for mimetic execution. By picking apart A's presentation of themselves, different people will carve out different collections of behavior and aspects of A's self-presentation and retool them to explain themselves. This is the origin of memes.

When B, C, D, and all the way to Z do this, a wave will ripple through the local social ecosystem that causes new types to arrive, likely centering around the most easy-to-understand elements of A's new style which many of the new behavioral memes will have in common. When that happens, A's presentation will either seem less fresh, if these spin-offs capture much of A's implicit message...or will seem fresh in a ghostly and subtle way because they failed to capture it.

Eitherway, the interplay, driven by human mimesis and memetic networks, will eventually cause A's original expression lines to go stale. It doesn't go stale because it's wrong, it might be that no one ever successfully replicates A's style. But it will still go stale because the message gets distorted by the change in the communication protocol that the gravitational pull of new types causes. The expressive range may remain unchanged, but saying the same thing will require different words. And just as often, old messages become impossible to express, often due to unshakeable connotations parasitic on some original meme.

This is nothing more than anti-inductivity: authenticity is a game where (i) you reveal your strategy by playing and (ii) others can use this information for themselves, in a way that actively competes with your goals. Just because your goal was "to express yourself" doesn't mean you weren't competing with other people. Quite the opposite: your unique idea has to fight to convince people it's meaningfully unique, and the kicker is it often isn't unique as much as you want it to be, but you've still got to express positivity towards your product along the axes people understand.

Every time a new type of guy drops, someone loses their current medium for expressing themself authentically.

#anti-inductivity #authenticity #type of guy

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xmanicpanicx · 4 years ago

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Romanticized Things That Aren't Actually Romantic

1) The "shut up" kiss

It happens in more movies, TV shows, and novels than I can even count. One half of the couple (usually a woman or girl) will be talking, and the other person (usually a guy) will suddenly lay an ol’ sloppy one on her mouth. Often times, she’s rambling about her insecurities, so some people think it’s cute when he kisses her, symbolically laying her worries to rest. Don’t worry, hon! There’s nothing to be insecure about! He likes you! There are two big problems with this. The first is that when someone is speaking, you shouldn’t cut them off; best case scenario, it’s rude. Of course, people cut each other off all the time in conversation, so that’s different. But when a character interrupts another character’s speech to kiss them, they are essentially prioritizing their sexual desires over the other person’s need to express themselves. It’s an action that has an agenda. Everyone wants to be truly listened to when they speak. So if, for example, we have a female character babbling about her insecurities, the male character should hear her out, and then respond to what she says. There is plenty of romantic potential in words — even more than in kisses, in my opinion. His response could still be a kiss after she’s finished speaking (as long as it’s not a rattlesnake-strike type of kiss that doesn’t give her a choice). However, we still have another problem: the female character’s self-confidence shouldn’t be contingent upon the male character’s opinion of her. In other words, a kiss from a guy, no matter how much she loves him, will not and should not heal her negative perception of herself. Not healthy. Real people and characters should accept themselves on their own terms rather than on the approval of others.

Sometimes, the sudden kiss will come in the middle of a female character’s angry rant. The male character thinks she’s cute or sexy when she’s angry, which can be frustrating and patronizing for anyone who voices their anger because they want to be listened to and taken seriously. But regardless of why the character is talking, the other character should stop kissin’ and start listenin’.

2) Female double standards

Women and girls often feel really uncomfortable when men objectify them and make comments on their bodies, so they call these men out — and rightfully so. They also call male authors out for only describing women in terms of their bodies and giving them very little, if any, personality. Once again, rightfully so. Unfortunately, in real life and in literature, there is a double standard here. It’s one thing to write an erotic novel in which bodies of every gender are described in explicit detail and with an express purpose. But I’ve read novels without any sexual content that go into so much detail about guys’ looks. And these male characters are often not well-developed, either (think of the stereotypical jock with a hot bod and no brain). Authors — especially female authors, who are usually the ones perpetuating this — need to do better than this. If it's not okay to do that to girls, it's not okay to do that to guys, either. Also, what is up with that scene from The Notebook? The one where Rachel McAdams repeatedly slaps Ryan Gosling because he’s breaking up with her. How on Earth is that okay? The Notebook is widely considered to be a super-romantic movie, but there is nothing romantic about that scene, and it should be a deal-breaker for their relationship. If the tables were turned and Ryan Gosling slapped Rachel McAdams for breaking up with him, the entire plot of the movie would be different. It would be a thriller, a story about a woman trying to escape a scary ex. We would never root for the two of them to get back together.

3) Overly-metaphorical sex scenes

Cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Would you like some crust and tomato sauce with all that cheese? So many novels shy away from the anatomical details and favor metaphors for how the sex makes the characters (or just the narrating character) feel. In theory, there is nothing wrong with this, but I personally tend to roll my eyes more often than not at the actual execution. The narrator will say something too dramatic, like “our bodies became one and the universe opened up before me.” Or “and then we were flying, soaring with and through one another.” Or something else that is just… not sexy. As far as being poetic, there isn’t anything special about those phrases, either. There is nothing wrong with describing sex as it really is. I realize that novels featuring sex that are aimed at young adults probably cannot describe things too explicitly, but there’s no need to replace dirty details with flowery language. Go for whatever sincerity you can in the situation. There are plenty of different emotions to mine and sensual details leading up to the actual sex that read more thrillingly than the sex scene itself.

4) Instalove

It's simply not as much fun to see characters fall for each other right away. And how could they possibly fall for each other right away, anyhow? Is it all about looks? If so, both characters are instantly less likable because they're shallow. And that's not real love, either. You need to actually know someone in order to feel a such a deep emotion for them.

It's also important to note that making the characters "love" each other at the outset of the story does not heighten the emotional stakes. It actually cheapens them. Because how can we take this so-called love seriously when we don't get to know, don't get to care about, the characters as individual people before they fall for each other?

Now, if we get to know each character and watch them get to know each other, and slowly fall for each other, that's much more rewarding. It's character growth, and it's a whole process that we, as readers, get to experience vicariously though them.

This may just be a personal preference, but I think it's best to even avoid phrases like “my heartbeat skipped” or “my skin tingled when our hands brushed” in the beginning stages of the story. Even though the declarations of love and outright displays off affection may come later on, statements like these reveal instant attraction, which still isn't as rewarding as attraction that grows over time and through events.

5) Love interests being obsessed with each other

From approximately 2005-2015, YA literature saw a horde of books featuring teenage girls and boys who are everything to each other. I almost mean that literally. The first really popular book like this was Twilight, but it had a huge influence on everything in YA that came after, especially YA fantasy. How romantic, some people think, that hero lives for the heroine! And vice versa! Perfect! Meant to be! Everyone wishes they could have that one, true, perfect love!

Listen. Go back to Britney Spears’s first album and play the song “Born to Make You Happy”: ”I don’t know how to live without your love, I was born to make you happy.” Solid 90s bubblegum pop, but with unhealthy lyrics. An unhealthy mentality. Most of us are familiar with that heady, all-consuming feeling of falling in love, how it feels like that’s the best and happiest part of life as it’s happening. There’s nothing wrong with portraying that. It’s relatable. The glorification of it beyond all else is the problem. The hero and heroine have scares throughout the story during which they almost lose each other, and that brings to light just how strongly they feel each other, to the extreme that nothing matters except each other. Then, of course, they ultimately end up together, happily ever after, never having to part again. But in real life, people break up, or sometimes even die. People have no choice but to be apart from the person they loved so much from then on. And it’s devastating, but it’s not the end, even if it sometimes feels like it. That’s why it’s so important for books to give some indicator that there are other things that matter besides (and dare I say even more than) the one person the hero/heroine is in love with. The characters have to have some sense of self-love or resilience. They have to have other people they care about, or at least values/principles and goals. They have to be an actual person, not just a vessel filled to the brim with love for just one other person. Romanticizing a co-dependent relationship can be hope-crushing message, especially for teenagers who haven’t had enough time to grow, to weather the storm of life and toughen up and become wiser and more self-aware and self-confident.

7) The super dominant male love interest

Okay, I’m not trying to kink-shame anyone because I know there are people who absolutely love this trope. I want to say it’s fine, as long as it remains in Tropeland. But even if women want to keep these love interests solely within their fantasies, I do worry about the message it sends to men, if it makes them think that they can be abusive douchebags because women are into that. I already know of far too many men who think that women are only into assholes.

Personally, I’ll never understand the appeal of a man, fictional or otherwise, who dictates what a woman should wear, her food choices, where they go and what they do for dates ALL THE TIME. And jealousy! Sure, jealousy indicates that someone cares, and it’s a normal human emotion, but I’ll never understand the appeal of a guy who gets so jealous, he won’t allow his girlfriend any freedom. I’ll never understand how cruel, disparaging words could ever be on the same sexiness level as dirty talk. And I really, really will never understand how a man physically harming a woman could be considered sexy. It’s weak and cowardly, hurting someone who doesn’t stand a chance of fighting back because they’re nowhere near as strong.

I get the appeal of a guy who sees a woman as his equal and isn’t afraid to spar with her, challenge her, and maybe even be a little bit rough with her, knowing that she can handle it. I see the appeal of a confident man who isn’t afraid to tell a woman what he wants. When his presence becomes legitimately threatening and completely selfish, that’s when I personally see a problem. But hey, to each their own.

#writing #writing advice #ya fiction #writing rants #writing rambles

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deliciousscaloppine · 5 years ago

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Consistent Patterns of Behavior as a way to create horror and dramatic tension:

The character of Jin Guangyao in The Untamed.

Nothing is more attractive in villain behavior than their capacity to control their destructive powers. In fact it’s not so much how clever or preverse their evil is that creates tension and horror, but rather how it's distributed through the story. And it's most frightening when they lose control, when they themselves are no longer sure if they are going to kill or not.

A villain has to be consistent enough for their behavior to be readable by the viewer. We must be able to discern what rules govern their behavior and who at any time is in danger of them. A villain establishes themselves by demonstrating their killing behavior. We must be sure that they have no respect for the lives of others, if we are to be horrified by them. This is usually established by “harmless” killings. Killings that are descriptive of the villain’s behavior, but not relevant to the plot.

In Jin Guangyao’s journey, there is a wide variety of such killings. He kills several disciples of the Nie Clan, a Clan he belonged for offending him, and then progresses to the murder of members of the Wen Clan, which he also belonged. So from the beginning he establishes himself as a murderous traitor. But the treasons here are “light”. At first he kills as retaliation for offenses.

And then he kills because that is what is expected of him.

However, Jin Guangyao manages not only to be duplicitous- something that can be boring- but dual in nature. His refinement and brutality co-exist perfectly. All his vengeances are slick, characterized by economy, and unpredictable remorse. He is both poison and sword, suicide and execution. What is frightening is not his evil, but his decision to act on it. It’s this ambivalence between empathy and cruelty that chills the most.

Choosing to kill demonstrates a loss of control. A control he will have to assume again only by killing. And this is the horrifying element in his behavior. Guangyao’s character usually is presented in intimate and elegant settings with his most loved ones, seemingly placating them, even as he designs to kill them. Even as he enters civilization and establishes himself at the top of his world, he carries this traitorous nature within him. At any time the most intimate partner can become an enemy. In the world of civilized society it’s frightening to think that its worst antisocial enemy is someone who is fully integrated to it.

Just as the bedroom appears refined and elegant like his public persona, the secret torture chamber behind it, especially where he seats Qin Su, is full of knives and swords, reminding his martial, killing side. The swords in the background bring to mind the ruthless, unemotional Meng Yao in the Sun Scorching Palace where in just a very short amount of time, swords fly in and out of frame, and two people die. It’s the same here, all the swords in the background are pointed in Qin Su’s direction betraying the true killing nature of her husband/brother.

And this portrays the abuses Meng Yao relatiates against. He knows how cruelty, deceit and dirtiness are ingrained to the finest things in his world. The wealth and success of his family would be impossible without murder, and it’s destructive tendencies ran rampant with Guangyao’s father, whose disorderly mating produces incestuous or nonexistent relations between his children.

Good villains do not push people away in order to be villainous. They draw them impossibly in and then destroy them. Watching characters struggle against villains is always a key moment in tension. Should they accept the villain they can remain safe, but then won’t they too become compromised and sucked into the cycle of violence. And if everyone is bad then that’s just depressing. If anything the victim is an indication of hope. Evil is not universal, like the villain thinks, it’s not an instictive reaction that threatens the foundation of the world.

Except in the case of Jin Guangyao. Then the victims themselves become facets of evil. He attributes it to them so that he can seduce them into complaissancy and silence to preserve and prolong the suffering that he deems a natural extension of the world.

“If I am so horrible, then you by association you are the same as me.” he seems to say to Qin Su. And he asks Nie Mingjue to consider the same. “Why does your morality allows you to execute others and mine does not? We are very much the same thing.”

And this betrays his motive for the extermination of the loved ones. He finds them to be similar to him in some degree. He kills them for their perceived likeness to him, something that echoes in the off-camera destruction of his child, his father, and even the prostitutes at Blossom Pavillion.

Jin Guangyao even reminds Lan Xichen of his own evil- ingratitude. The following statements are accusations, highlighting the uncomfortable truth about the villain’s progression. Evil is unavoidable, and anyone can become its agent willingly. Anyone can destroy a loved one no matter the sincerity of their emotions. Lan Xichen becomes the killer of Guangyao precisely because of his fond feelings for him, not despite them.

During these intimate judgements, he moves closer to Lan Xichen driving the sword deeper inside him. He moves closer to him both physically and mentally. Enough to engange him so he can better destroy him. Intimacy is a facet of his destructive nature.

And controlling the lovers, forcing degradation on them and compeling them to death is the greatest intimacy he can share with them. It’s the only time he can present his real self, a vacant self. A self with no thoughts or feelings, but horrible instinctive reactions patterned after his own abuse. His remorse over destroying them is just as real as his impulse to do it. And that’s frightening. Because the villain’s empathy and love is the spider’s net that finally condemns them.

Jin Guangyao needs to victimize his loved ones in order to regain something of his own destroyed humanity. And that’s even scarier. But it is not just a game of giving them pain and taking their lives. Through them and their judgements he replenishes his reserves of evil and prolongs his own non-existence, the emptiness he experiences when he can no longer compete with them. Their grief, their wrath, their anguish motivate his instincts of self-destruction.

And being his own connections to a sense of self they are the first to be endangered. When the victim differentiates themselves, there is a small moment of acceptance. The acceptance of this demolished self that maybe is not worth living.

This scene is very reminiscent of the scene at Unclean Realm when Nie Mingjue also realizes the unpleasant truth about his beloved. Meng Yao defends his sense of worth with death, but it’s not always the death of others he is after.

Jin Guangyao has no objection dying if he is to be loved for it. And this betrays that killing his loved ones, is his own affirmation of love. In Unclean Realm he readily offers himself for execution if he is to preserve the fondness Mingjue felt for him. But Mingjue having lost that fondness says no. Not killing him is also a form of rejection.

Similarly in the final scene where he is stabbed by Lan Xichen, he himself drives the sword as deeply as he can in an effort to approach Lan Xichen and confess his love to him. He offers himself again for execution. Only to be met with the indecisiveness of the beloved. And that’s precisely where his killer instinct kicks in to prolong a reasonable end to new heights of cruelty and torture.

However when Lan Xichen accepts dying and by extension his own feelings of love towards Jin Guangyao, the sacrifice is no longer needed. The loved one has accepted him despite knowing the extent of his disturbance. Lan Xichen even seeks to appease this suffering with his own life and for this reason he manages to escape. Jin Guangyao knows he can live on in Xichen’s tortured consciousness as a far better version of what he was so he gladly accepts his demise.

And even calls for it with great vigour. Again antagonizing Mingjue in death is an affirmation of life through him. The torture he visited upon him was again his method of living in him. He really seeks to shape the victims into fearsome memories of who he was.

#the untamed #jin guangyao #meng yao #lan xichen #nie mingjue #qin su #zhu zanjin #wang yizhou #liu haikuan #jin luying #jin lu ying #zhu zan ji #wang yi zhou #zhu zan jin #liu hai kuan #cql #here's a long ass post i was working on

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takonei · 4 years ago

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Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 5, deadly life (Part 1)

Note of the author: Surprise, fuckers. Investigation is earlier than expected!

Chapter 5: An oath to one’s lost humanity - Deadly life

...

"Ding dong, dong ding!"

...

No...

"A body has been discovered!"

Not...

Not again...

"Everyone, please gather in the ultimate weapons maker's research lab!"

Shuichi could only stare at the unmoving body in front of him.

Ryoma... Committed suicide...?

But why?

They were so close to ending this game, they had a strategy, they knew full well how they were going to fight Monokuma and the exisals, so why?

Why restarting the killing game?

Shuichi tried to detach his eyes from the corpse.

The others were as in shock as he was, but the moment his gaze landed on Rantaro, he could immediately feel something was wrong.

The medic was staring at Ryoma with an unreadable expression.

It wasn't fear, shock, nor sadness.

Not a single emotion could be seen on his face.

His eyes were locked on the unmoving body of his former friend.

Perhaps he hadn't yet realized the reality in front of him.

His partner, the one he trusted the most, was dead.

Kirumi and Shuichi glanced at each other.

It was like both realized what was going to happen.

Rantaro had already gone mad from the supposed betrayal of Ryoma during the last trial, he was already slowly crumbling under the pressure of leading a continuously dying group, so to think Ryoma broke their promise to fight against Monokuma and ended his own life...

What was left of Rantaro now that the plan he carefully crafted in details was shattered to pieces by his most trusted friend?

"My! My! I was almost worried you guys would actually not kill before the time limit!"

Shuichi couldn't even look at the bear.

"But it looks like we're finally getting another trial! How exciting!"

Kaito slammed his fist against the nearby box. "What trial is there to hold?! Ryoma committed suicide!"

"Uh-uh! The rules of a class trial always remain the same!"

"Once a murder takes place, all surviving students must participate in a class trial."

"Only accidental deaths don’t deserve the luxury of getting a class trial, so if the victim and blackened are one and the same, a class trial will still be held!"

Miu was also furious. "You're not even denying it! There's no point in organizing a class trial if we already know Ryoma is the one who ended his own life!"

Monokuma was stirring the cocktail he was holding. "I didn't *say* he committed suicide, I said that *if* he ended his own life, a class trial would still take place! Now shoo! You have a crime scene to investigate!"

"What's the point?"

Shuichi felt his heart skip a beat. He turned to the source of the voice.

Rantaro was now facing the bear.

"We'll come in the courtroom and then start the vote immediately. Since none of us have done the deed, you will not execute anyone, and we'll go back to our rooms as if nothing ever happened."

The medic slowly marched towards Monokuma.

"Or maybe you are hinting on the fact that Ryoma didn't commit suicide, and in that case, you are giving an advantage to the spotless, which means you are taking sides, and this isn’t what the objective judge you claim to be would do. This trial is already unfair, if you ask me."

He narrowed his eyes at the bear.

"Unless there is something you want us to find out during the investigation?"

The bear started sweating. "N-No, not at all! This is definitely a fair trial and you definitely have to solve this case in its entirety and vote for the real blackened!"

It felt like Monokuma was lying. Or at least he was hiding things from them. But what would he want them to find in their investigation? What is there to investigate, even?

"A-Anyway! Now shoo! I have important matters to take care of! Like finding this freaking kid I swear..." The robot muttered the last part.

Shuichi frowned. "What did you say?"

"I said I have to find my missing cub!" he yelled, then put both of his paws on his mouth. "Oops! Did I say that out loud?"

... What?

Obtained truth bullet! Missing Monodam

"Here! Have the Monokuma file and get to the investigation already!" Monokuma exclaimed before leaving.

"Wait!"

It was too late.

The six who were still alive were left in the lab, a hanged corpse right next to them.

They all looked at each other.

"What... What do we do?" Kokichi asked, visibly unsettled by the situation. "The answer is right here..."

"But Monokuma was hinting that it may not be a suicide..." Shuichi muttered.

"And yet the supposed other killer wouldn't have anything to gain from this. Unless they were willing to kill because of the time limit, but then again, it doesn't make sense that they would disguise the death as a suicide." Kirumi added.

She had a point. To survive alone would be pointless.

And Shuichi just remembered something.

Ryoma's lab was always locked with no other way to enter than the main door, and he would respond to Rantaro only. That's what he learned from the past few days.

Obtained truth bullet! Locked lab

"But still, Rantaro, you said Monokuma wanted us to find out something?" Miu turned to the medic.

"I was just throwing out theories and it looked like I was right. But the question is, what does Monokuma want us to find that even he couldn't find." he replied.

That was very odd. Monokuma always seemed to know everything that was happening in the academy.

Perhaps Rantaro was wrong, but...

It really looked like Monokuma wanted to flee their interrogation and make them investigate.

Maybe there was indeed some truth in Rantaro's theory.

It looked like he was focused on the case the second Monokuma appeared, which was... Not the reaction he expected, to say the least.

What does Rantaro even have in mind?

...

"Do we... start the investigation anyway? Maybe we'll find out about what Monokuma was talking about..." Miu suggested.

"That would be following the orders Monokuma gave us, but if we do not take any risks we'll never know what he is hiding." Kirumi continued. "I suggest we investigate but keep our deductions to ourselves, just in case."

"If we find out a truth that not even Monokuma could find, then we’ll have the high ground."

Shuichi nodded. "I agree, but... What can we even investigate?"

"It's just like Tsumugi's case..." Kokichi muttered. "We don't even know what to do."

"Shouldn't we investigate Ryoma's lab?" Kaito asked. "I mean, we've been together the entire day, if someone tampered with a certain room we would have known."

Shuichi perked up. "Hold on, when did Ryoma even die?"

"He could be dead for several days for all we know!" Miu exclaimed, shocked by her own statement.

"Except Ryoma made our weapons for the failed raid of the hangar yesterday. Your argument doesn't add up." Kirumi crossed her arms.

"Besides, the body is still fresh. I would say he died several hours ago at most." Rantaro noted.

Shuichi took out his monopad. "Perhaps the Monokuma file indicates more information?"

Turning the item on, everyone looked at their screens.

Monokuma file #5

The victim is the ultimate weapons maker, Ryoma Hoshi.

The victim's body was discovered in the ultimate weapons maker's research lab.

The time of death is unknown.

The cause of death is strangulation.

No other injuries were noted on the victim's body.

Obtained truth bullet! Monokuma file #5

"This doesn't help us at all!" Kaito exclaimed. "Everything written on this file are things we already know!"

Shuichi glanced at Rantaro to try and guess what he was thinking.

The medic was staring at the file, unreadable as always.

He turned off his monopad without a word and approached the control panel.

The others could only look at him wondering what he was up to.

After pressing a few buttons, he lowered the hook to the ground.

He placed one foot on it, wrapped his arm around the chain, and gripped it firmly.

"Can someone make the hook go to the highest point so I can reach the beam?"

Kirumi stared at him. "What exactly are you planning to do up here?"

"I want to lower Ryoma's body so I can inspect it. I can't exactly do an autopsy on a hanged body."

The mercenary walked towards the panel and stared at it for a moment. She pressed a button and Rantaro started going up.

Once he was next to the beam, he climbed it with ease and walked on the narrow path as if it was completely normal.

He sat down in front of the knot. "Can two of you hold onto Ryoma while I cut the rope?"

Kirumi raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly are you going to do that?"

He thought for a moment. "... Hand me one of your knives. I know you have them."

Shuichi saw the others turning to the mercenary with looks of concern.

"Why the fuck do you have knives on yourself?" Kaito asked.

The young woman sighed. "I'm a trained fighter. What exactly did you expect."

Kirumi reached under her skirt and took out one of her sharp knives. She stepped backwards and threw the weapon up. Rantaro caught it mid-air easily.

She walked back to Ryoma and put the chair away. Miu swallowed before following her.

The two girls wrapped Ryoma's arms around their shoulders and Rantaro started cutting the rope.

After the weapons maker was freed from its deadly grasp, Kirumi and Miu laid him down on the floor.

Shuichi approached the control panel to bring Rantaro down.

The medic stepped down and faced the dead body in front of him.

The silence was deafening, and Shuichi couldn't even begin to understand how Rantaro was feeling right now.

"... I'll make the autopsy. You guys can investigate the rest."

It was clear from his voice he wanted to be alone.

"Hey, didn't we say we should investigate this lab?" Kaito asked, who visibly didn't catch on to what Rantaro was trying to say.

"I doubt we will find hints in this lab only. I don't know where, but perhaps we should leave Rantaro to his job for now." Kirumi already started walking towards the exit.

Miu shot a glance at Rantaro, who was still staring at the dead Ryoma.

"Should... Should one of us stay behind?"

Shuichi didn't know if this was a good idea, but because of how silent Rantaro was, it was hard to tell if he minded.

They looked at each other for a moment, worried about how the medic really was holding up.

He thought he had moved on pretty quickly, but that clearly wasn't the case. He simply wanted justice for Ryoma, to get to the bottom of this- and whatever Monokuma was hiding about his death.

"Maybe we should leave Rantaro alone, for now." Shuichi muttered.

Kokichi briefly looked at the medic. "You're probably right."

The group finally made their way out.

Shuichi closed the door behind him and turned to the others.

"What... What do we do now?"

...

No response. They had hope that they were finally going to end this game, and the moment they were about to do so, another death they didn't think about occurred, and it was Rantaro's best friend of all people.

The one Rantaro seemed to have talked to in secret multiple times, even going as far as to communicate in morse code to make sure no one would successfully catch on to what they were saying.

To investigate what was clearly a suicide because of what Monokuma was supposedly hiding from them...

Nothing made sense anymore. That was just torture.

"... I'll try to find Monokuma. Perhaps I can get answers out of him." Miu started walking away.

Kaito immediately followed. "I'll go with her."

Shuichi was left with both Kirumi and Kokichi.

"Do you... have any clues on what we could investigate?" Kokichi nervously asked.

Kirumi leaned against the wall. "I want to know what the blackouts were all about. Although I am not sure how we could investigate these."

There were exactly two blackouts, as far as he knew.

"I mean... The first blackout was yesterday, right?" Shuichi said. "It was at least a few hours long..."

"It happened while we, aside from Rantaro and Ryoma, were all in the warehouse. I don't think any of us could even remotely be accounted responsible." Kirumi continued.

"And it was just in the main building! The hangar wasn't touched at all..." Kokichi added.

Obtained truth bullet! First blackout

"I do think the two blackouts are related, although I fail to understand what was the purpose of this move." Kirumi pondered.

"Maybe we'll find info somewhere? There must be a way to investigate..."

"Isn't there a computer room? I don't know much about computers but maybe it can give us a hint..." Kokichi suggested.

"This entire building is the victim of the blackout. Even if the computer has info, I doubt it will be functioning in this current situation." Kirumi noted.

He didn't think about that detail.

"Then I'm out of ideas..."

"I mean, our current blackout isn't that different from the previous one, right?" Kokichi asked. "We didn't realize there was one because we were in the dorms, so it only touched the main building again."

"The thing is, we were not here when it started. It could have started right before we entered the building just like it could have started hours ago." Kirumi added. "We know the beginning of the first blackout but not the end, while for the second blackout, we do not know either in the slightest."

Both blackouts were still a mystery, then.

Obtained truth bullet! Second blackout

Would it really help with Ryoma's case? Probably not. But just as Kokichi said, it was like Tsumugi's case. They didn't know what they were searching for.

...

The group stared at each other.

"H-Hey..." Kokichi muttered. "I don't want to doubt any of you but..." he trailed off.

"What is it?"

"... What if it wasn't a suicide, somehow?"

Shuichi almost jumped.

The mercenary narrowed her eyes for a moment. "We were all together the majority of the day, so most of us didn't even have time to do anything unless it was at nighttime, which I doubt is the case since Rantaro mentioned Ryoma's death was several hours ago at most. Miu was absent this morning and Rantaro was absent for most of the day, but that's it."

However, that still left those two as suspects...

A part of him prayed that this was indeed a suicide, as harsh as it sounded.

Obtained truth bullet! Kirumi's account

And now they were left again in silence.

...

"I do not have a single clue on what we can investigate because of the blackout. This is frustrating." Kirumi crossed her arms.

Shuichi hummed. "I mean… Ryoma’s lab really is the only place where we could find hints… Should we still go there?"

Kokichi glanced away. "I… I know that after H-Himiko’s death I… I wanted to be alone, so I don’t know if t-this is a good idea…"

"Except we don’t have a choice. Miu and Kaito left to get Monokuma and we don’t know what place could even give us hints about what Monokuma is searching for." Kirumi noted.

"Perhaps we should investigate as quietly as possible…?" Shuichi suggested. "I know to disturb him would be disrespectful, but maybe he would understand?"

The three stared at each other.

"Ryoma’s lab it is."

The trio went back to the room, quietly opening and closing the door. They forgot about how dark the lab was.

Kirumi immediately started going to the back of the lab, but the moment Kokichi and he started to follow her, she gestured them to be quiet.

For a moment Shuichi forgot about the other two being incredibly stealthy- for different reasons.

Once the workbench was in view, Shuichi noticed Rantaro was reading what was written on a blueprint. It looked like the autopsy was already done.

However, he would not do the same mistake twice.

"M-Maybe we should tell him we’re there? I don’t think he would react well if he noticed our presence and didn’t tell him…"

Kirumi glanced at him for a moment, like she just remembered what he told him a few days ago.

"You’re right."

She stood up and approached the workbench, still illuminated by the flickering light that started giving Shuichi a headache.

The sound of her heels echoed loud enough for Rantaro to notice and turn around.

"You’re back."

"Sorry if we’re interrupting anything, but there isn’t much to investigate outside of this lab."

He put back the paper on the table. "I never said any of you had to leave. I just said you guys should investigate something else other than Ryoma’s body."

…

One day, maybe, he will cease worrying Shuichi.

Had he even taken the time to process his death?

"A-Are you sure?" Kokichi hesitantly asked. "We can investigate quietly if you want…"

"It’s fine."

Shuichi swallowed.

"Isn’t there a flashlight or something to help us? This place is so dark…"

The moment he finished his sentence, the room went entirely black.

He simply heard something small falling on the table, then the ground.

"U-Um…"

"This has turned into a difficult situation."

“Monokuma!!"

Rantaro's voice echoed through the lab.

"Get over here. We cannot investigate properly in those conditions."

"Hey! Hey! I am not a servant nor a maid! There is someone here to help fulfill your desires!"

The robotic voice came from behind, the sound of his light footsteps getting louder as he approached them.

He could not see it, but Kirumi was definitely rolling her eyes at the bear.

"If those are the conditions of your investigation, then so be it!"

Shuichi could hear someone turning around.

"Which means the blackouts are not accidental. Someone is responsible for them. That is one new confirmation, thank you."

Rantaro.

"Ack!"

"May I ask, is it because you don’t want to repair the blackout or because you can’t?"

…

Silence.

"I’m taking it as a ‘I can’t.’ Thank you for the answer. Which does confirm that you are not the one who provoked it to mess with us, and it is indeed one of us who has done the deed. Now-

"Enough! Just take these and investigate for real already! That’s not how an investigation works!"

The sound of something rolling on the ground was heard, and Shuichi felt a small object touching his feet.

He bent down to take the item- something that felt like a flashlight. He turned it on and finally he could see in front of him.

Other flashlights turned on as well. Monokuma had given one to each of them before leaving.

Everyone turned to Rantaro.

"… And that confirmed what I just said was true."

Someone among them… Responsible for this? But not many people could have even done so.

He would have to solve this mystery later.

… Now that he thought about it, Miu and Kaito would probably not manage to get anything out of the robotic bear anymore.

Obtained truth bullet! Monokuma’s account

"I think we can go back to the investigation now." Rantaro declared.

Kirumi and Shuichi quickly glanced at each other.

Rantaro seemed to know exactly which questions to ask Monokuma, what would make him stutter and reveal important clues.

Was it something he just knew how to do, or was it deeper than that?

He really hoped he wasn’t looking too much into that.

"A-Alright… I’ll try to investigate what I can…" Kokichi walked away.

"… Then I’ll do the same." Kirumi went the other way.

Shuichi swallowed. If the autopsy was done, perhaps it revealed something else.

"H-Hey Rantaro…"

"Yes?"

The violinist approached the body. "Did you find anything else on Ryoma…?"

Rantaro put a knee down. "Ryoma died one or two hours ago at most, and the cause of death is hanging. There’s no doubt about that. Look."

He slightly moved Ryoma’s head to expose his neck, marked by purple spots that gave Shuichi chills.

"The hematomas on his neck are here, so Monokuma wasn’t lying about the cause of death being strangulation. However, if, let’s say, someone tried to strangle him with a rope, a cable, or anything else, those hematomas would be far more pronounced than that."

"There would be also signs of struggle, on both the killer’s body and Ryoma’s." he took Ryoma’s hands to show him. There were slight stains of soot, but nothing that looked like blood.

Obtained truth bullet! Rantaro’s autopsy

… At least there wasn’t any mystery surrounding this. Which was expected from what is clearly a suicide.

"A-Alright…"

He had enough of dead bodies. Perhaps he could look around for more hints.

Earlier, when the lab went completely dark, he heard something fall near the table. What was that?

The violinist approached the table and tried to investigate near it. And to his surprise, there was a small object on the ground. He picked it up to take a look at it.

The object was a circular magnet, grey with a familiar blue symbol on it.

The one that was also on the hacking guns- Ryoma’s sigil.

Did it come from the lamp?

Obtained truth bullet! Strange magnet

Speaking of weapons, perhaps he should try to find what Ryoma already created.

Shuichi started looking around. If the weapons maker was trying to keep them secure, then perhaps they were locked in one of the boxes.

However, it seemed like both Kirumi and Kokichi were investigating them already, so he should try to look somewhere else.

He went around the lab without any objective in mind. Just finding something perhaps related to the case.

At some point, he stumbled across an object leaning against one of the boxes in the back.

After closer inspection it was… Kaito’s metal baseball bat?

There were a few scratches on it, like someone used it to smash something hard enough to resist it.

Scratches definitely not done the day they destroyed the pool area’s window.

Other than that, the bat was clean. Not shining clean, as it seems to have been dirtied a bit by whatever the person using it smashed, but there were no stains on it.

Obtained truth bullet! Used baseball bat

Shuichi glanced at Rantaro, who was still reading the papers on the workbench.

He approached him to see what these were all about.

"What are these?"

"Blueprints for weapons and tools. Take a look if you want, although I doubt you will be able to understand anything. I know I don’t."

The medic handed him the papers.

There were different plans and sketches on them. Some looked like the bombs they had not actually used a few days ago, and some looked like the hacking guns they had used in the death road of despair. But another one caught his attention.

It looked exactly like the magnet he found earlier. Which meant this was indeed one of Ryoma’s crafted objects.

However, nothing on the paper indicated what it was used for. Simply what materials should be used and how it was supposed to be assembled.

He also found a blueprint for what looked like an overcomplicated lock, for some reason.

There were some other blueprints about different bombs, from explosive ones to electrical ones, and heavy weapons that looked like they could blow up more than just the exisals.

At least Ryoma did try to craft the weapons, but…

… Why suddenly giving up, if you could call it that way?

Obtained truth bullet! Weapons’ blueprints

Shuichi gave back the blueprints to Rantaro. "Thank you… Although I didn’t understand much either."

"No problem."

Somehow, Shuichi wished Rantaro showed at least a little bit more emotion than this.

He started walking back towards the boxes to see if either Kirumi or Kokichi found anything.

The violinist suddenly jumped at a very strange noise in the distance- like a small explosion, or electricity?

He approached the source only to see Kirumi coughing.

"Are you okay?!"

She waved her hand to make the smoke go away. "I’m fine, don’t worry."

He approached the box, although he could not climb it. "What happened?"

The mercenary seemed to have tried to manipulate something. "I’m not sure. All of these boxes have huge locks, so I tried to break one. But the moment the blade of my knife touched the thing, it exploded."

Ouch.

"Oh… But is it okay now to open?"

She shook her head. "It looks like a defense mechanism. I cannot touch it. Although…"

He could not see it properly, but it looked like she was making sure no one was listening.

"I am not sure since I cannot feel pain, but it looks like the lock both creates a small explosion and sends a strong electrical charge to whoever tries to touch it."

Oh.

"Hold on, I have gloves! Maybe I can try!"

"I highly recommend you not to, Shuichi. One wrong manipulation and you could end up dead."

"I know what I’m doing! Help me get on the box!"

"Get some thicker gloves first, idiot."

Shuichi sighed, approached the workbench once more, and took the pair that was on the table. It seemed to have belonged to Ryoma. They must have been used for his manipulations and looked safe enough.

Kirumi stepped down and approached the control panel. Once Shuichi was firmly holding onto the chain, she moved it up so he could take a better look at what she was inspecting.

After moving it down, she went back and climbed up the chain by herself.

She sat down next to Shuichi. "Here. That’s the lock."

On a closer look, it had the exact same appearance as the sketch on the blueprint he found earlier.

After taking a deep breath, Shuichi placed a hand on the lock, which…

… didn’t do anything at all.

He tried to move the thing around, and his eyes suddenly widened.

There was the exact same magnet as the one he found next to the table.

"I found one of these earlier! I don’t know what they are for, though."

He tried to detach it, but he could not even move it an inch. It was like superglued on the lock.

"Weird…"

"… I am not sure how these locks work. Perhaps we should leave them be, it would be safer."

"Agreed…"

A strange lock indeed, that would definitely secure the boxes from anyone but him.

Obtained truth bullet! Trapped locks

"Hold on, what about Kokichi?! He must be manipulating these locks as well!" Shuichi exclaimed.

"Kokichi also has gloves, mind you. But perhaps we should tell him not to move these too much."

Oh.

The two climbed down the box and started searching for the smaller boy.

But before they could find him, the door of the lab opened again to reveal Miu and Kaito.

Rantaro, who was done with the back of the lab, approached them. "Anything new?"

The street artist groaned. "Nothing! We searched for Monokuma everywhere to ask him questions but nothing!"

… Perhaps he should tell them about what happened earlier.

"It’s fine. Don’t worry about it."

Kokichi stepped down from his box as well. "I mean… We did get some info out of him so it’s alright… I think."

"Then what about you guys? Did you find anything interesting?" Kaito asked.

"Nothing really relevant to this so-called case." Rantaro crossed his arms. "We've been searching Ryoma's lab through and through for a while now, and the blackened is pretty much established at this point."

And yet it felt like they hadn't found anything at all. Shuichi knew they were not searching for the culprit anymore.

They hadn't even found a 'why', nor what Monokuma was supposedly hiding.

Miu glanced away for a moment. "Say... Have any of you found some kind of will? Or even a letter?"

Shuichi froze. He glanced at those who were in the lab with him.

There wasn't any.

"N-No... I didn't find anything at all..." Shuichi muttered.

"So he just... without even telling us why?" Kaito was just as confused as everyone else.

"... Nothing. I've looked through his workbench about a hundred times already and there wasn't anything." Rantaro shook his head. "Which does surprise me. Ryoma is not the type to make huge decisions without explaining why."

Perhaps it was better to trust Rantaro on this.

"Do you think Monokuma stole the letter? Ryoma could have given us info in it... Maybe Monokuma judged it wasn't a good idea to leave it be, and we know that he can mess with us whenever he wants to..." Kokichi suggested.

"That's a possibility. We'll never know unless we harass him until he tells us the truth."

Obtained truth bullet! Absence of a will

"Should we go back to our investigation?" Kirumi asked.

"It's not like we have anything else to do." Rantaro walked away.

He was way too calm for Shuichi's liking. Was it because he got over his death quickly or because he was hiding his emotions far better than anyone else here?

Each and every single one of his actions terrified him.

But now wasn't the time.

The violinist turned to Miu. "Have you... found anything in your research?"

She sighed. "Not really. I do wonder what the 'missing kid' thing is all about, though."

Kaito frowned. "We saw Monodam like two days ago, remember? He was just walking around when we were searching for the dumbells."

The street artist nodded. "Yeah, I do! But then nothing. I don't remember seeing him even once ever since then."

Obtained truth bullet! Kaito's account

"Strange... But it's not like it's going to help us." Shuichi noted.

"I know, I know... This whole situation is giving me a migraine." The taller man complained.

"God, do I agree."

After telling Kokichi about the danger of the locks, the group went back to their investigation. Miu followed Kokichi and Kaito followed Kirumi and Shuichi since they didn't have any flashlights.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them as the mercenary tried to look through the lab.

"All the boxes are locked. There isn't anything to see here." she stood up and brushed the dust off her skirt.

The three approached the back of the lab. Now that he had a better view of the thing, Shuichi noticed the packs of food and water. Those were the supplies he had taken to survive without leaving his lab. Some of them were empty, but that was normal.

Nothing much to see here.

"Hey, what the heck is that?"

Kaito pointed at something that was hidden behind one of the food packs. However, with the darkness, it was hard to tell what it even was.

Kirumi approached it and took out what looked like... a bomb?

"W-What is this?!" Kaito exclaimed.

"Obviously a bomb that was not used. But it's different from the ones we had to raid the hangar." Kirumi noted.

Something about this bomb felt familiar. Was it on the blueprints?

Shuichi went back and started going through the papers until he found the one. "There!"

He tried to read it to perhaps learn a bit about it.

But upon a closer look, he remembered that none of them explained anything about the use of the tools.

"And of course we don't know what this is..."

Kirumi tried to inspect the weapon. "What I'm wondering is why this was out in the open. All the boxes are locked, no exception, and I thought they contained all the weapons Ryoma made. But not this unknown one."

Why the change of pattern?

Obtained truth bullet! Unknown unused bomb

The investigation was confusing- not more than the previous one, but still, in a different way.

This entire time they didn't know whether they were searching for the blackened, something Monokuma didn't find out, a missing monokub, or something else entirely.

Maybe if they continue investigating-

Ding dong bing bong!

Goddamnit.

The announcement was a bit different. Monokuma asked them all to put back their uniforms correctly as it was a 'requirement for the trial'. They had all changed their outfits to feel more comfortable -and piss off Monokuma-, but now they had to change back, unfortunately.

The three stared at each other for a moment.

"... I guess we have no choice." Kirumi sighed.

"Well we got our answer, so let's just change back, go to the courtroom, vote since this bear forces us to, and then think about what we should do next since there aren't any fucking weapons available now." Kaito started walking away, leaving the two alone.

...

"I have a bad feeling about this." the mercenary muttered.

Shuichi looked at her. "You mean for the trial?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I feel like we both missed something important and that Rantaro is not going to take this trial well, even though it should be extremely short."

If this was their first trial, Shuichi would have disagreed, but... Now he wasn't so sure.

"Yeah, but... We still gotta go and see, right?"

Kirumi sighed. "I know."

Some of them had to go back to their dorms to change, including Shuichi. He put back the vest and tie and looked at himself in the mirror.

He really wasn't the same person as before the game, was he?

Shuichi could barely recognize himself. Eyebags, messy hair, and of course, the constant expression of fear he could never drop even if he tried.

If only he could go back to the happy version of himself.

To go back to his uncle's house.

To stop fearing for his life.

To stop worrying about making someone react the wrong way.

To stop worrying at all.

This situation was completely hopeless.

He shut his eyes down and left the room. Now wasn't the time to do an existential crisis.

He found the others and the group made their way to the shrine of judgment in silence.

Only six of them were alive now. Every time Shuichi tried to think about it, he could feel himself wince.

Ten of the last survivors of humanity had died in three weeks.

They stepped into the shrine but already had the answer on who the blackened of this case was.

Ryoma killed himself. There was no doubt about that anymore.

Rantaro's autopsy proved it, and no matter what happened outside of it, the outcome was still the same.

The elevator ride was as silent as always.

But something didn't feel quite right. It was like they were going deeper than usual.

The door opened and Shuichi's eyes widened.

It wasn't their usual courtroom. This one didn't have any stained glass, nor a giant clock nor anything. It actually felt like a real courtroom, with wooden decorations, scarlet and gold curtains enveloping the walls, and red carpets on the black and white checkered floor. At least this room didn't give him a feeling of dizziness.

"I remade the courtroom specifically for you guys! After all, this fifth trial promises to be grandiose! I couldn't resist redecorating a little!" the bear exclaimed, laughing.

Everyone took their spots, ignoring him as always.

They would vote and leave.

That was it.

Monokuma explained the rules everyone knew by heart by now.

However, it wasn't like they could protest.

Shuichi could only hear white noise at this point. By looking around, there were almost only black and white portraits with a bright pink cross on each of them. More spots were taken by the horrendous reminder that they were all dying one by one than actual survivors.

How many trials would they have to go through before being free?

How many deaths would have to occur for the bear to be satisfied?

...

The courtroom was left as silent as a graveyard, although that was expected from a trial where there wasn't anything to say.

But before he could even think about how to break the silence, Rantaro raised his hand.

"I'm the one responsible for Ryoma's death."

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

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gaasaku-fanfests · 4 years ago

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I can't hold enough of you in my hands

Title: I can't hold enough of you in my hands Author: elleurs Rating: T Word Count: 2,504 words Summary: Band!au. Gaara as the vocalist. Sakura on bass. Gaara making moves on Sakura just before the show/during the show? Author’s Note(s): Someone help me, this took way too long to write and I hate myself haha. I love GaaSaku but AU is not my forte omg I’m sorryyyyyy I don’t know a lot of music stuff so forgive me uwu I did my best. Thanks for the prompt anon! Trope: Band!au. Gaara as the vocalist. Sakura on bass. Gaara making moves on Sakura just before the show/during the show?

D-Day: 7 days

Sakura has never played bass before, but it doesn’t stop Naruto from recruiting her into the band. She’s a sucker for her blond friend, especially when he pulls out his signature puppy-dog eyes and pleading pout combo.

How can she say no?

And okay, maybe Naruto buttering up to her for weeks with pandering statements of “Sakura-chan, you’re a genius, you’ll pick it up in no time!” and “You’re the only one I know who can definitely do it!” stroked her ego until she believed those words herself. Resigned, she’d finally agreed.

Bass guitar resting on her lap (courtesy of Ten-Ten’s brother), she opens the video tutorial Naruto sent to her the day before.

And promptly realises her book-smarts do not translate well to musical instruments.

She fumbles spectacularly. It’s not like she’s never held a guitar before (Ino dated Kiba for a while and he loved to show off how well he could play – he let her borrow it a few times for the ‘gram), but playing it is another matter.

The theory she understands – she can read the notes just fine, but once her fingers try to find the right string, it’s all downhill from there.

It sounds so horrible even to her untrained ears and she feels like crying.

Fuck her life.

D-Day: 6 days

Gaara is…quiet.

It’s weird, because he’s the vocalist, but she doesn’t complain – Naruto speaks enough for the both of them.

For all three of them, really.

“We’re planning to just do a cover of this song,” Naruto explains, slinging an arm on her shoulder. He works out daily at the gym, and his arm is so heavy that she hurriedly shrugs it off before her neck breaks.

Gaara’s behind them, hands in pockets and headphones blasting who knows what song. She looks between him and Naruto and wonders how they met.

She meets Gaara’s gaze, and he’s the first to look away, frowning.

“Gaara’s on strict orders not to say anything until near the performance,” Naruto continues, blissfully unaware. “Aren’t you, Gaara? He’s had a sore throat for the past few days! Only one song, don’t worry. They know Neji stopped playing for us, so they just want us to play something different.” She nods, half-listening.

Their usual bass player, Neji, had to stop once his uncle found out he’d been skipping cello lessons to play in their band. Sakura had only met the uncle once. She can’t blame Neji for backing down.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell Naruto how badly her first foray into bass playing went. Instead she keeps her mouth shut.

It’s just one song.

She can do it.

When she gets home, she works through the online bass tutorials between homework sets and assignment research. She practices until the pads of her fingers on her left hand have little creases from when she would press the strings. She practices hard because she doesn’t want to embarrass herself, but most of all, she didn’t want to let Naruto down.

Naruto has that effect on people, she thinks as she carefully places the bass guitar back on its stand (thank you, Tenten’s brother).

He makes you want to try harder.

D-Day: 5 days

Naruto hands her the music sheet with no words. Then he hands her another sheet with just the bass tabs.

“I wasn’t sure which one you’re more comfortable with reading,” he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. She smiles, grateful, and takes the tab.

It’s a lot easier than the music sheet because it shows the strings and which part to press. But still, she gets the placing of her fingers the other way around, or she plucks the wrong string.

There’s only four strings in a bass guitar, which makes her feel even more of a failure, but she struggles on, practising her part diligently until Gaara comes in. Naruto stops playing the drums and throws his friend a grin.

“Maybe help Sakura for now?” he calls out. “If you play the guitar, she might get confused.” Normally, Sakura will be affronted because Sakura does not get confused. She silently endures and makes personal executive decisions in order to prevent that very scenario. That is quintessential Sakura Haruno right there.

But before she can retort, Gaara grabs a chair and sits in front of her, arms crossed and face carefully blank. She’s not sure what to do, but then decides to hell with it and starts from the beginning.

His stares are heavy and she feels uncomfortable. He waits until she finishes the song and made a circle with his finger, indicating for her to start again. Shrugging, she flips back to the first page of the tab and starts to play. Too focused on the music in front of her, she doesn’t notice Gaara until he stood right behind her.

Both his hands brush past her waist and he places them on top of hers. He positions her right hand until her thumb is resting on the highest string and her other fingers are curled, poised for the next note. Next, he fixes her left hand so that the pad of her index finger is on the edge of the fret.

She feels his breath near her ear and her brain short-circuits at the proximity. His hands over hers is warm as he leads her to play the next few notes. When he plucks the strings, she’s surprised at the clear sound the bass makes.

“T-Thanks,” she says, “I got it from here.” Gaara steps back and sits back down.

She messes up so badly that Naruto stops playing the drums and asks her if she’s okay.

D-Day: 4 days

She may or may not have stayed up late last night going over the music.

In typical Naruto fashion, he only gave her the music sheet for the bass, so she has no idea what the song even is, or how the main melody goes. She hopes what she practiced will be enough because what happened yesterday –

She doesn’t even want to think about it. Her cheeks are red from embarrassment.

In the next practice, she doesn’t make a mistake until Gaara walks in. And then her fingers fumble, missing a few beats.

“Don’t do that on the day,” Gaara says as he straps his guitar. It’s the first thing he says to her. That – That –

That asshole!

“I won’t,” she retorts, gritting her teeth. She turns her body away, part embarrassed, part angry, and practises her strumming, trying to remember where to place her fingers and to strum on time. She can feel his gaze on her but she doesn’t care about that pompous asshole and keeps playing.

They’re lucky she even said yes to this thing! Didn’t he know she’s a busy person? She could be doing a hundred other things, but here she is, playing this stupid bass on their stupid band.

When Naruto arrives, Sakura is ready to go home.

“But we have to practice!” Naruto shouts as she stomps out of the room.

“I’ll practise by myself!” she says without turning back.

That night, Sakura practices her part over and over again until she memorises where her fingers are supposed to go and which string she’s supposed to pluck. Every time she falters, she thinks back on Gaara’s words and his haughty expression. It’s enough to make her want to wow him tomorrow and make him eat his words.

She imagines playing the bass so good his jaw drops on the floor, but privately, she thinks that it would be easier to just smash the bass on his face.

It’d be much more satisfying, too.

D-Day: 3 days

In the next practice, Gaara is absent.

“His body finally gave out, I guess,” Naruto says as he twirls the drumsticks in the air and catches one of them. He hurriedly stoops down to pick it up. When he stands up, he sees Sakura’s alarmed expression and hastily adds, “He finds it really hard to sleep, so he can go a couple of days without sleeping.”

Sakura still looks alarmed. “What?” Naruto scratches his cheek absentmindedly.

“He’s an insomniac,” he clarifies. “That’s why he doesn’t practice with us. He usually practices late at night until early morning. Hey, did you know he can play a lot of instruments? His house has like, a huge music room with just instruments, you know?”

Sakura holds up a hand to stop her friend before he completely derails the conversation. “Is his body okay? Should we check on him?”

“I dunno, he said it’s been like that since he’s young. Oh yeah, you know the music sheet I gave you? He transcribed all of it, by the way! He even made the bass parts himself! I couldn’t find the bass tabs anywhere so-“

Sakura’s stomach backflips at this piece of information. “Should we check on him?”

“Nah, he won’t answer the phone. It’s probably a good idea to let him sleep, it’s been a while since he could get a proper rest.”

“He’ll be fine?”

“Don’t worry, Sakura-chan! He’ll be here tomorrow!”

Sakura stares at the empty chair where Gaara usually sits and frowns. Turning away, she gives a signal to Naruto.

“One, two, three!”

She doesn’t make a mistake once.

D-Day: 2 days

Gaara is here and his stare is heavy.

Sakura loves books, and she knows the expression well (trashy romance books are her ultimate guilty pleasures, after all), but it’s the first time in her life she actually experiences it– she’s not sure what to think.

It’s intense, and the way their eyes meet every so often causes her to redden – from embarrassment or what, she’s not sure.

Still, she refuses to be embarrassed – honestly, it’s too late for that now. Their performance is in a few days (!!!!), and the thought makes Sakura’s hands sweat. She misses a few bars in the song, and she doesn’t miss the way Gaara’s eyebrow raised, mocking her.

She grits her teeth when Naruto stops his drumming and tells her they’re going to start from the top. He’s unusually determined, and she can’t muster her usual sarcastic retort because this time, the fault is with her. Instead, she nods and grips the neck of the bass guitar a little tighter.

Gaara’s stare is as heavy as having Naruto’s arm around her shoulders.

Maybe even heavier.

She ignores it, and after a few play throughs, she finally plays it all the way through without any mistakes. It’s a miracle, she thinks, because her mind is half on the song and half on the red-haired boy in front of her.

She wants to meet his stare head on. Maybe narrow them in distaste. Except she maybe kind of likes him. A little bit. A super tiny little bit. A microscopic, tiny bit. The thought of him transcribing bass tabs for her in the middle of the night makes her stomach queasy and her heart tighten. He’s still an asshole, though.

So maybe not distaste but – silent contemplation?

Something like that.

D-Day: 1 day

It’s the day before the performance and Sakura’s heart beats so fast she thinks she might throw up. The stage manager at Shuriken fusses around them on small stage, a short woman with hair up in a bun and wearing a perpetual bitch face. She screams at a poor guy named Tobi.

“No, Tobi,” the stage manager says. Sakura listens to their conversation because it’s better than realising she’ll have to play to a live audience. “Damnit, where’s Deidara? Let me speak to him instead – why? Because you’re a fucking idiot, that’s why! Fuck off and find me Deidara!” Tobi scurries off, but not before flipping a finger behind her back. The stage manager gives Sakura a brief once over and groans, before pointing at her guitar.

Sakura’s confused look only serves to make her impatient, and she snaps her fingers and points at her guitar again. Does she want the guitar?

“I’m surrounded by idiots, fucking hell,” the woman grumbles, before kneeling down and plugging something onto Sakura’s guitar. “Damnit, Tobi, where the fuck is Deidara?” She storms off and the other staff gives her wide berth.

Naruto bumps elbows with her. “Don’t take her too seriously, Sakura-chan! She’s like that, but she’s very good at her job. Right, Gaara?” Gaara grunts.

Sakura isn’t reassured, but tries to smile anyway. The Shuriken isn’t that big – with Konoha University’s funds focusing on sports, it’s a dingy bar at best. Most students go there anyway instead of the games. The drinks are cheap, and if you’re with a band, you get a few drinks for free.

“Gaara’s going to do an acoustic at the first part,” Naruto explains as he sits down in front of the drum set. “Then he’s going to swap the acoustic for electric. Once he does, I’ll count you in.”

It takes them a couple of times but they finally figure it out. Gaara doesn’t sing because Tobi lost the mics.

“Tobi, you’re fucking useless!” the stage woman screams while they practice. “You’re dead meat, you hear me? And where the fuck is Deidara?”

Sakura prays tomorrow will be smooth sailing.

D-Day

Sakura’s hands are sweating and shaking so much. They’re behind a curtain, waiting for Sasuke’s band, Sharingan, to finish their set. Her heart is beating so loudly she can’t even focus or enjoy the music. Naruto is nowhere to be found, probably hanging out with Hinata before their performance.

Where’s Naruto when you need him?

Gaara sees her alarmed expression and approaches. Her heartbeat skyrockets.

“Put your hands out like this,” he says, placing his hands as if in prayer. She does the same. He slaps the backs of her hands, surprising her. It stings a little. “Are they still shaking?” She looks at her hands.

“N-No,” she stammers. Gaara smiles (HE CAN SMILE????) and pats her head.

“Just do what you did yesterday,” he says. She’s still stupefied at seeing his smile (HE IS CAPABLE OF SMILING!!). “If you mess up, I’ll cover for you.”

“You’re singing and playing the guitar though,” she points out.

Gaara raises a brow. “So?” So cocky. Much asshole.

She doesn’t notice because her brain is still restarting from his smile.

He can smile. And his eyes crinkle in the cutest way possible. She wants to melt, and realises his smile is a potent weapon against her. Even more potent than Naruto’s his signature puppy-dog eyes and pleading pout combo. She’ll never be able to say ‘no’ to that smile.

The thought scares her.

Fuck.

The Sharingan finishes their set and leaves the stage.

Fuck.

“Wanna go out for drinks later?” Gaara asks nonchalantly as they walk to the stage.

She stares at him, eyes wide as the reality sinks in. Adrenaline is coursing through her veins as she stares at the crowd and then stares at him.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Fuck yes.”

#GaaSaku #gaasaku-fanfests #2020 GaaSaku Free-for-All #2020 GaaSaku Free-for-All Fanfest #fanfic #elleurs

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