#anyone who actually read that probably knew it anyway its not exactly obscure knowledge

[roots-of-asphodel]

something special about infodumping to yourself bc you have no one else to infodump to

[green-and-grey-kenaz]

Solace in Plato

Language: English

Characters: Nico di Angelo, Will Solace, Chiron

Summary: With the now rather alarming prospect of actually reaching adulthood being a reality, Nico has agreed to tutoring under Chiron's guidance. When Plato is suggested as something to study, Nico is not impressed and avoids it. A few weeks later and Will Solace asks him whether he's actually read Plato or just an abridged version.

Just a little fic exploring their relationship and Nico's internalised issues with being gay.

Word Count: c. 2 500

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32634607

“I hate Plato.” Nico muttered, staring at the book placed in front of him as he sat in the library of the Big House. Having not had any formal education since the ‘30s, Chiron had taken it upon himself to help educate Nico should he wish to get exam results - which would be useful for getting a job or Athena believe it, going to University. Neither was a prospect that he had ever really considered possibilities but the alternative was staying here and helping out with the new recruits while Will went to University in a few years time or doing the same thing but in New Rome.

Because Will insisted that he wanted to help the world, not just demigods. Nico didn’t deserve him.

So he’d agreed to go along with this and when Chiron had asked him if there was any subjects he thought he might take at University (and after Nico had suggested undertaker, mortician or detective based on a TV show Will had told him about, don't ask) he had begrudgingly admitted that he had more than a passing interest in Classics. Try as he might, his childish obsession with mythomagic had left him with more than a passing knowledge of Classical characters and he got a strange, warm feeling in his chest when he knew the answer to ‘how do we kill this obscure monster’ and no one else did.

Based on these answers, he had a somewhat tailored learning with Classics in both Italian, English and the Original Ancient Greek (his Greek was amazing for his age - a by-product of being a half-blood - but apparently his English reading skills were that of a kid and his Italian not much better, Hades knew why) and more than his fair share of biology and chemistry. Will had been only too delighted to help him with the sciences, although was suspiciously absent when it came to physics and math, but that was OK, really, and he probably wouldn’t make a good mortician anyway because he shouldn’t pick careers based on how many spirits he could raise, tempting as it was. The rest of his schooling thought? That fell to Chiron.

And today? Well, apparently they had progressed onto Philosophy and a man who's work made Nico's stomach plummet. Plato.

“Why is that?” Chiron asked, a patient expression on his face. Nico just glowered at him but like Will, he seemed impervious to it. It was irritating when people did not cower and cave in to his glares. He was used to inspiring fear in others.

“Do I need a reason?” Nico his arms, leaning back on the chair, returning a dark gaze to the book as if he could cause it to wither and crumble under his gaze. If he could do it to food, why not books? Plato sat cheerfully happy there without so much as a speck of mold coming to grace it.

“When discussing philosophy, it can be rather helpful.”

“Well I just don’t like him. Pick some other philosopher.”

Chiron had stared at him for a good few seconds before relenting, choosing some other book and asking no further questions about it. Nico hated that he could feel just how his heart rate had picked up, thundering in his chest as if it would crack open his rib cage. He knew people suspected… that the people he tolerated as friends already knew and accepted him for his inclinations… for what he was… but he wasn’t ready to confront the proof that he was different. Wrong, a voice always threatened to whisper in his ear. An abomination. A freak of nature. Nico knew that he couldn't read Plato, not with Chiron standing there and dissecting the merits of this particular work. It was never easy to look in the mirror and see just how messed up you were.

Despite the time it took for his heart to return back to normal, he did manage the text they’d chosen and perhaps sensing his unease, Chiron had used it as a chance to work on his reading more than the philosophy. He even finished the lesson with a kind smile and was informed that his modern language skills had far approached where they should be for someone his age. This followed with a suggestion that he could go into translation work. It was tempting, he would be better able to hide away in a darkened room as a translator than becoming an academic (sadly, these days academics had more obligations to teach), so Nico nodded and promised to think on it.

Two weeks later found Nico sitting in the shadows of the forest while Will quizzed him on anatomy which counted as studying for both of them. Annoyingly Will was refusing to sit anywhere other than the sunlight and so had coerced Nico into what they had settled on as being called ‘a potential threat to his aesthetic’, or in other words, dappled shade. It had promised to be a rather lovely day until a topic best avoided reared its head.

“Why do you hate Plato?” Will asked suddenly, looking up at him with those bright eyes and that warm smile that made something in his stomach twitch and his throat clench. Nico knew he shouldn’t feel so ill at ease with these feelings. They hadn’t put a word on it but it was a thing that they were doing. Having feelings together, exchanged smiles and moments of laughter when he thought no one was watching. Once, Will had even placed his hand down a mere inch from Nico’s and he had let his little finger flicker to just once lightly tap against Will’s in thanks for the silent support. He’d felt sick with guilt afterwards, but what was new? The little moments of happiness more than made up for it.

“I just do. And Chiron shouldn’t have told you that.” He muttered, shifting to move back under the full shade of a tree, pulling his legs in to his chest as Will closed the book. Right, study was over. Nico wrapped his arms around his legs, finger shifting the skull ring as he felt the pressing anxiety to run and escape the potential fallout. How many people knew? No doubt his unnaturalness was being spoken of throughout camp as he sat here. They would prove Jason wrong that times had changed. Their eyes would follow him, judging and radiating hate for someone who was so different. He’d have to leave and go back on the run, abandoning all he had built here. Nico closed his eyes as the feelings became overwhelming and claustrophobic, grass yellowing beneath his feet.

“He was concerned.” Will said softly, shifting over to sit next to Nico and breaking his silent panic.

“I’m not talking about it.”

“Is it Plato’s Sympo-?”

“No.”

“Hm. That’s what Chiron thought as well.” Nico could hear amusement in Will’s voice and concern. He dropped his hands from twisting the ring, suddenly subconscious of his tell and instead twined blades of dead grass between his fingers and yanked. His hand opened to let the picked grass tumble back to the earth.

“Did you read the original or just hear an abbreviated version?” Will pressed.

“Have you read it?” Nico challenged, ripping up more grass.

“Not until last week. Chiron sat me down with it and we discussed it.”

“Then you know why I can’t stand Plato.”

“Abbreviated version, huh?”

Nico looked over to Will who did not look disgusted, upset or any of the other myriad of emotions that he would have expected. Did he not read the whole mankind were once male and female, now split and eternally trying to recombine with their other half? Which left them and whatever they had rather in the dirt. Because if there was one thing that was worse than knowing he wasn’t right, that there had been some huge mistake with his creation, it was knowing that someone as good as Will Solace had the same affliction. Sure, he could be annoying but Will deserved more than that. He shouldn’t be a broken half. If anyone deserve to be able to become whole once more, it was Will. Will, who was staring at him like he expected some answer and Nico shrugged, yanking more grass.

“So what? I was like eleven. Not exactly likely to go and read the actual version. I deserve credit for even doing that much.” He couldn't actually remember how he'd heard it. He had found out that it was from Plato's Symposium after he knew the story, that much he knew. He assumed either he had read it very young or perhaps some ghost had told him. Most of his pre-Camp Half Blood lessons had come from ghosts in one form or another.

“Perhaps you should. I rather liked the bit about the straights all being nymphomaniacs and adulters.” Will smirked.

Nico frowned, his body freezing as he blinked very slowly trying to make what Will had said align with what he knew. A frown tugged at his brow.

“What… do you mean…?”

“Well, the whole bit about there being people made of two parts, either two men, two women, or a man and a woman, always trying to get back together. And the same sex ones generally being the better lot. Well, more the two men combos because they weren’t necessarily the most progressive in Ancient Greece. But in the end, that’s just a story that Plato had Aristophanes, who was a comedic playwright, tell. It’s not really anything to be taken too seriously.”

How had no one told him that? A dark anger settled into the pit of Nico's stomach and he found himself wanting to track down whichever spirit had lied to him and- Will continued speaking, his voice too light for Nico to continue his thoughts and the seething hatred dissipated.

“Honestly, read it if you don’t believe me. Chiron sat me down and took me through the whole story, every boring line after every boring line. I’m not supposed to tell you this because he’d rather you told him when you’re ready but he kind of clocked that you and I-” Nico shot Will a death glare and Will held up his hands.

“I was going to say get on well! And yeah, considering your aversion to Plato, he thought it might be you heard a misrepresented version of that story. We both know about festering wounds so agreed you should learn the truth of the matter. Preferably not by forced study so I kind of had to get an impromptu philosophy lesson. I think Chiron intended me to be rather more subtle about his involvement but my assessment is that it is better to know that you’re not alone and that it’s OK.”

Nico did not want to stare at Will. He did not want to look shocked nor rattled. He focused on plucking more grass and trying not to feel pleased that Will could sit in silence, knowing he needed time to speak and for it not to feel awkward.

“I just.” Nico frowned. The story had not exactly haunted him but it had lodged itself into his chest as further proof of all he had been raised to understand. It felt like a screw had been loosened somewhere deep within. “It isn’t saying that… well…?”

“No,” Will smiled. “And, I mean, the best thing about it is Plato actually wasn't arguing for the gays or the straights. There’s just like this collection of discussion by some old dudes on the meaning of love and then Socrates comes in boom at the end and we get Platonic love , or the basics of it. Big advocation for love being about the search for the meeting of minds rather than physical stuff, which I think is a rather good way to look at it. It goes on to being about then true love is a love of knowledge. That’s what the whole thing is kind of about. I think. Most of it went over my head.”

“That… doesn’t sound so bad.” Nico admitted, his hands winding around some grass but not yet pulling. He focused on the texture of it in his palm and it ground him.

“Besides, it’s not like it’s the be all and end all.” Will continued. “It’s just some guy arguing about love two thousand years ago and what do they know?”

Nico hummed, chin resting on his knees as he stared out at the camp below them. Will moved to sit closer, mirroring his position merely a foot away. If either of them leaned just a bit, their head might rest on the other one’s shoulder and Nico did not shift away.

“I just… As long as I can remember I’ve always been told that love is between a man and a woman. I just seemed inescapable. It didn’t matter who was teaching…” It wasn’t easy and words caught in his throat.

“Look, I know it’s complicated and none of this is going to be easy but I just want you to know that if you need to talk about something, you have me. And if you don’t want to talk to me about it, then Chrion is there too-”

“No.” Nico said hastily, blinking in surprise at that. “That is… I’d rather talk to you than Chiron. About things.” He noticed that at some point, Will had placed a hand, palm upwards between them. Hesitantly, Nico slipped his hand down, ghosting his fingers over Will’s. He did not move or even look at him and somehow feeling safer in that knowledge Nico let his fingers intertwine.

It was better than the grass.

“But when I’m ready. There’s… I’ve got a lot to figure out about all this but I know whatever I think, I enjoy what we have and I don’t want to not feel this.” He twisted their hands so Will’s was on top now and his fingers brushed against Will’s knuckles and down the proximal phalange before circling the knuckles again. Will’s thumb brushed against his and Nico felt his body begin to tense against the warmth and sparks of feelings. In moments like this, it was hard to believe that what they had was wrong.

“I don’t want to not feel like this either.” Will smiled and the distance between them seemed less, although Nico could not say how the gap had closed.

If they really were two halves of a whole, Will had to be his better half, Nico reflected as he felt his head drawn to rest feather light on his… on Will’s shoulder. Yes, it felt like this might be completion or at the very least something that Nico had not felt for an even longer period: contentment.

[interestsofabookwormbitch]

Ramble

Me and my music journey

I guess I'm basically writing a little ramble about my music journey thus far. I don't know, ever since I've gotten into MCR I've been feeling a lot of things, and I really need to let it out, so decided Tumblr would be the perfect place. Of course, I will likely focus a lot on My Chemical Romance at the end, but before I even get there I'm going to have to write at least a little about my other two favs, Green Day and Adam Lambert. If you guys don't want to read it I totally understand, it's really just for me to let out my thoughts anyway.

So, I don't know if anyone here knows anything about me, but I'm a very obsessive person. When I get into something I hyper fixate on it so much it's probably unhealthy. Usually these obsessions last about a month I'd say, give or take a week, and then I feel my interest wane. I then have maybe another month of being strongly invested before completely moving on. It's by the end of the first month however that I can usually tell whether I actually enjoy this obsession or not (if not I leave then). The answer is almost always, yes, I do still enjoy it, although a lot of things do fall into obscurity, and I don't remember them much after the second month. There are also those things that I still feel really strongly for, like Harry Potter. I know these are the things that will last with me forever, and continue to influence my life, even if I don't love them as much as I initially did.

This hyper fixation also extends to music, although I'll admit to only recently figuring that out. Nearly a year ago exactly I decided I wanted to go through some bands and artists, so I made an alphabetized list to go through to add. Unfortunately I realized that my hyper fixation extended to music with the first artist on the list; Adam Lambert.

For about a month straight I only listened to his music. I watched countless videos of him and I'll even admit that he was the first actual person that I shipped with someone else(Adommy). I'm actually grateful for that, because as weird as some people might think it is-heck as weird as I thought it was-it helped me to realize that innocently shipping and partaking in fanfiction wasn't hurting anyone, and this made my experience in certain bands much more enjoyable.

Music wise I'll admit that Adam's style is sometimes not exactly tailored to my taste, but what he may lack in the musical sound he more than made up for in vocals. The main reason I loved him was the way that his voice makes me picture melted chocolate being slowly poured into a mould. It's so full and rich, and even now, after my obsessive stage has passed I can still say his voice is one of the most comforting sounds I know.

Obviously I still adore Adam Lambert to this day, and I even have all of his available music on my playlist; but my fixation faded, as it does with most things, and I by summer I realized I couldn't survive musically off of only Adam Lambert. So, I went back to my old playlist, just this time filled with more Adam than before.

The summer was quite an uneventful one for me, so I quickly grew bored, and I decided to go through another artists discography. This time I chose to go through Green Day. They were my favourite band as a kid (because of one song) so I thought they'd be a good choice.

Boy was that the right call. I loved them! Absolutely adored their music and personalities. And I still do. Their concerts look like a blast, and almost all of their songs are amazing. I'm not musically knowledgeable enough to pass critical judgement on their abilities, but I am able to pass judgement on their music, and it's incredible. It made me feel countless different emotions, and that's exactly what music is supposed to do. Out of all their albums I am expecially partial to American Idiot and Revolution Radio. The storyline in AI, and the political commentary in both were especially good in my opinion, leading me to agree the somewhat popular belief that Green Day is at their best when American politics are at their worst.

I will admit that as much as I loved everyone in the band, I didn't really click with them. I couldn't relate to the members, which upset me a little. It did not, however, diminish my love for them in the least, and I would die happy if I got to go to one of their concerts.

Again, just like with everything, I couldn't live just off of Green Day, so I reentered my full playlist again eventually, and this time it had a significantly larger amount of Green Day songs. On top of that I also created a playlist for my favourite artists, which at the time consisted only of two people. Still was a pretty large list though.

Finally, my music journey thus far in life has lead me to My Chemical Romance. I actually decided to give them a shot because of a Green Day fan I was talking to online. I don't ever have people earnestly suggest stuff to me, so when this person suggested My Chemical Romance so enthusiastically I just knew they had to be my next band. So they went on a new list, one they were the top of. Due to school and stress I hadn't been able to really give them a shot until a month and a half ago.

During spring break I was working on this novel I'm writing, and I wanted to listen to music. Well, I didn't have my phone, so my playlist wasn't an option. I wasn't feeling Adam Lambert at that time, and Green Day would not set the right mood for the story, so I settled on playing My Chemical Romance on the computer as I wrote.

By the time I finished writing that day I was in love. I had gone through their four studio albums twice, and had decided that I should name each chapter after their songs (probably not a good idea, but I fell in love). The next few nights and days I spent endless time listening to their music and watching videos. I downloaded Venganza! And the Black Parade Is Dead both, and I have Life On The Murder Scene saves to my phone. I became obsessed, like usual.

The thing is, it didn't quite feel like the normal obsession for me. Back then I didn't want to think too much on it, as I assumed it was just my hyper fixation kicking in. It's now been nearly two months, and I'm just now thinking about letting other music back in. I still think about them everyday, and I don't think I've gone more than half a day without scrolling through the Tumblr tag.

See, with My Chemical Romance I think I found a band that actually sings to my heart. It almost feels like they were writing these songs for me with how much I connect with them. Obviously not all of them in the same way, but if the lyrics don't fit me, the story they do fit is extremely amazing to me, and the music always knocks it out of the park. Something about Gerard's vocals always always makes me feel something, and he absolutely excels at conveying emotion with his voice.

And it doesn't stop at their music. Each band member is so precious to me. Just thinking about them makes my heart want to burst. Sometimes it's with joy, other times it's with sadness and other times it's just too many emotions. I've cried more over this band than almost anything else in my life. I've only been invested in them for such a short time, but I can honestly say I don't want to live a life without them in it. And I don't mean without the band, that ended in 2013, sadly, but also for their own mental wellbeing, ao its fine. What I mean is that I'm just so happy I live in a world where they existed.

They make me feel complete. It's as if they were a missing piece to me my whole life, and now that it's here, I'm more free to be me. And I am more me now. I hide less, and care less about opinions. They made me realize more than anyone else that I'm who I am and that's ok. That I can be a total geek and nerd and loner and fucking loser, and it's cool. Or more accurately, it's not cool, but who the fuck cares? It's me.

Honestly, for such a tiny m amount of time in my life I think My Chemical Romance has left the biggest impact. And it's not just my hyper fixation talking either. I really mean what I said, and I am eternally grateful for them.

Really I'm grateful for everyone I've mentioned in this post. As much as I love My Chemical Romance, they can't take all the praise. Both Green Day and Adam Lambert have also helped me realise so much, and I will love them forever along with countless other musicians who have helped to shape me. And honestly, this whole post does no justice for anything in it. Words cannot describe how important all this music has been to me in my life.

[dustingrayves]

faire un petite fête

characters; elsword, raven, eve, elesis, add, lu, ciel rating; T wc; 2055 au; mafia cws; smoking + the usual mafia stuff, though this is very mild notes; hi! its finally time to post this!! this was written for the elsword halloween-mafia collab, you can check it out HERE and read other fics from there and see all the amazing art!! please check it out!!

“My eyes hurt, this is bullshit.”

There’s a heavy sigh coming from the other end of Seraph’s earpiece, followed by a deep inhale and a bubbling sound. She scoffs at her partner, even though he can’t see her. “Smoking again?”

A pause. “That has nothing to do with you, Seraph,” he mutters, “I just need something to keep me sane while looking at this stupid green shit. What do they even want us to do at this point, the security is down and the team is probably already on the way back.”

“You’re a hacker, and hackers get a black terminal with green words. Like all of us, now shut up,” she grumbles, and for a second, just a miniscule second, she thinks it worked, but then Esper’s deft fingers show off how fast they type and before she could even think about the goal of his work, her terminal blacks out. It comes back alive just as fast, but instead of the familiar and calming green illuminating her face, the words glare at her with that disgusting shade of purple she was forced to grow accustomed to.

“I prefer black and purple, thanks,” Esper says, going back to his pipe to let her undo the nonexistent damage.

Her lips form a tight line. “Of course you do.”

A knock comes from Esper’s side of the call and she can practically see him perk up, exhale the chocolate-tasting smoke and stand up to go open the penthouse door. She checks all her histories and makes sure to save today’s logs onto one of her disposable USBs before deleting it.

“Hey Seraph,” an energetic voice greets her when Esper returns, moving to save and delete his own logs. “Still don’t understand how you guys do this. Like, this is just a slew of numbers.”

A soft slap. “Let go of my keyboard, Infi!” Esper hisses, irritated, “All these numbers say ‘fuck off.’”

“The security also said ‘fuck off’, but you think that stopped me?”

“Who exactly do you think stopped the security in the first place, huh?”

“My irresistible charms, of course.”

“You don’t have a single redeeming quality about yourself, much less a charm, you dope.”

The boys continue chatting, throwing around meaningless insults, but Seraph decides she has had enough and disconnects from the secured line with only a ‘See ya.’ She misses both the answers as she puts her headphones down and stretches.

Working with that guy never ceases to get to her, no matter how much she insists she doesn’t care. He’s just so annoying… But the mafia pays well and he might help them track her if she ever decided to switch to someone else. He might be annoying as hell, but even she can’t write off his tracking skills.

It’s not like they’re friends, barely acquaintances, but it’d be best to stay on civil terms.

For now.

“So, why’d you crash here?” Esper asks, offering to pass the pipe. Infi takes it and takes a long drag, marveling at the surprisingly rich chocolate flavor the smoke carries.

“Well, to steal your tobacco, for one,” he says, taking another long drag. Esper snorts, fingers tapping on his (admittedly cool) light-up keyboard at the speed of… something. Definitely faster than Infi can.

“If I find even one package missing, I’m personally hiring a deep web hitman.”

“Aw,” Infi feigns sadness, but it’s quickly forgotten in lieu of another long drag, his lungs filling with the smoke and calming his nerves. Not that he’d consider himself a smoker, but passing up tobacco this good should be a crime. “Anyway, I’m here for a debrief, telling you you did a great job, yada yada. Seraph too, but she’s gone.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t much care for this stuff.”

“You don’t, either.”

“Eh,” Esper shrugs. He holds out his hand for the pipe and takes it from the redhead. “If I ever said I hate your mug, your sis would rip me a new one.”

“You don’t really hate my mug.”

“Nah, I’ve seen worse. Like your sis’.”

“I won’t tell her that, but only because we’re friends,” Infi laughs.

Esper’s tone carries a heavy tone of sarcasm as he says, “I appreciate it.”

“Anyway,” Infi mutters after a while, having made himself comfortable on Esper’s couch like every time, “Sis is meeting with the Crows on Saturday—”

“A weird day for a meeting.”

“—Yeah. But anyway, I want you to come with. La Diabla is coming too, along with her… boy toy? And I’d feel much better with someone who can rig up an explosive in case something goes south. Or un-rig it. Whichever.”

“Aw, and here I was, thinking you wanted me for my beauty, and you just want to exploit my collection of chemicals,” Esper snorts, but none of his words carry any heat. “I’ll go.”

“I think others would appreciate your ‘beauty’ more.”

“Fuck, dude, if anyone can appreciate my three day tank top and sweats, I’d be surprised.”

“Which reminds me, you will wear something appropriate, won’t you?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“If you come in a t-shirt and shorts I’ll let sis shoot you.”

“Her aim is shit.”

“Fair enough. Even my aim is better than hers.”

“You just don’t have enough concentration to stabilize it.”

“Well, mister smartypants, you don’t even have the upper arm strength to shoot one.”

“First of all, rude. Second of all, not true. And third of all, who needs a gun when you can have an explosion?”

“Sane people.”

“Aww. Nevermind then. Never qualified for one.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Esper mutters, glaring at his reflection in the passing window. “Last time I wore a suit was when I killed my father.”

“Good memories, huh?” Krim jabs, taking her attention off her call for but a second. She had been on call for over half an hour now (more than enough for Esper to set up his explosives around the only two exits of the warehouse), though mostly quiet and listening to whatever the other person has been babbling about. Esper doesn’t care.

“Actually, yeah.”

Krim’s expression darkens for a split second, looking at him with something unreadable. Not uncommon, when it comes to him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he bites, “Forget I said anything.”

The Commander is a fearsome man, with reputation preceding him by a mile or ten. Looking at him for the first time, aside from photos and low quality footage, Esper has to admit if it weren’t for years of expertise in the whole mafia/gang/whatever the hell they were, he still isn’t sure — sometimes the bosses act like goons, quarreling with the others, and sometimes they’re working like a switzerland watch — he would feel intimidated.

Instead, he just keeps to the shadows, fingering the fuse in his pocket, thumb running over the smooth surface of the buttons. It’s not that he would like to be stuck in a half-blown-to-high-heavens warehouse, but both Krim and Infi have been very adamant about the security measures.

They — he — end up being completely useless. The Commander drinks his polite glass of wine, brings out the cash Krim had demanded, and then turns his attention to La Diabla, looking the most out of place of them all, with her beautiful gown-like dress and hairdo fit for a runway.

Her… assistant… stands like a soldier a few feet over, the only one she had brought. That knowledge alone is more than enough to pique Esper’s curiosity, and he moves over to him, instantly grabbing his attention.

The man’s expression is unreadable, even moreso with the mask (which is, again, very unfit for a place like this, but for a completely different reason than La Diabla’s getup) obscuring half his face already. His eyes follow Esper’s every movement.

“Is she always like this?” Esper asks. The man cocks his head to the side as if in a question. Esper sighs. “This… pretty? Does she always go out of her way to look like she’s up for a modeling shoot in thirty minutes?”

This explanation seems to finally get through to the tall man. (Which, Esper begrudgingly seeths at. He’s already tall enough, no need to go the extra mile, right? Fuck you, taller people.) “That’s how she looks like,” is the simple answer.

“Uhhhh-huh…”

“Lu is beautiful.”

“And pays you a lot to say that too, huh. Wait, Lu?”

“Lu,” the other man repeats.

“Wait a sec right there— Is she…? No way, holy fuck. I knew she was familiar.” Fucking Luciela R. Sourcream, right here, under the fake name of La Diabla. Who would’ve fucking thought? Great, no wonder she only brought one man along.

Esper glances over at Infi, wondering if he knows. He’s got to, right? He does business with her.

Then again, she does look completely different right now that on any of the magazine covers that praise her almost-childlike appearance. Holy shit… This knowledge would sell for millions on the black market. Millions and… millions in bounty, too. Esper shudders inwardly at the thought of having to jump countries again to escape the persistence of mercs after a few easy millions.

“I’m Demonio.”

Esper is snapped out of his thoughts by the man’s voice. It still feels too gruff, like he’s unused to speaking much. Which he probably is, thinking about it. “Esper,” he replies.

Demonio gives him a nod and then goes back to looking presently dead inside. “I hate meetings like these.”

“Why’d you come, then?”

“Lu said, so I did.”

“Do you do everything she says?”

“Yes.”

“That’s kinda shitty,” Esper muses quietly. “But I hate these meetings too.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“Infi asked me to.”

“Do you do everything he asks?”

“No. But he’s a friend, y’know. We help each other out.”

Demonio makes a small humming noise in the back of his throat. “That’s nice.”

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Esper finds himself asking before he can even think about it. He wants to smack himself right after, but Demonio, despite what the name should suggest, seems like a nice guy who could use a little escape.

“Lu is shooting.”

“Uh—”

“Magazine.”

“Right…”

There’s silence, and Esper thinks that’s all there is to the conversation, but Demonio turns to him with a tilt of his head, as if he’d been waiting for Esper to elaborate on his question. “Why?”

“Well— There’s a good Chinese restaurant a few blocks from here, and they’re having an all-you-can-eat tonight. Me and Infi are going— And, frankly, you look like you should get something into your stomach.” Esper doesn’t really have the right to say something like that, but hey. Whatever.

Demonio looks down at him almost absently, leaning on his oversized sniper rifle — which Esper still doesn’t understand. They’re inside.

“That’s me extending the metaphorical olive branch. Y’know, friendship and all.”

“I’ll ask—”

“It’s alright,” come a lull of a voice, high pitched, silky and almost snake-like. Esper tenses up, eyes flitting to La Diabla. Shit. She must’ve heard. Demonio still looks as nonchalant and unbothered as ever, looking at her with confusion. “Go, dear, I can take care of myself one night.”

All the eyes inside are on them, now. The Commander’s, boring through and assessing; Krim’s, confused; Infi’s, mildly amused; and La Diabla’s, of course, seemingly even thankful as she looks at Esper.

He regrets agreeing with Infi to come. His fingers are still curled around the remote, itching to press a button and go hide somewhere during the explosions. He could’ve been at home, watching some stupid thing on Netflix and ignoring job offers instead of here, kindling friendship with the most well known assassin this side of the globe.

God, he really can’t wait to get home and get a cup of coffee. But then again, this is his life. And he hadn’t been shot or skewered on a blade yet. (Yet.) That’s a win in his books.

“Great. Anyone else who wants to tag along to the Chinese with us?” he asks, half rhetorically and full-on exasperated.

He doesn’t expect it in the slightest when the Commander grins and opens his mouth. “How good are their spring rolls?”

Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph. This is gonna be one hell of a dinner.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Shield Hero 11 - 13 | Price of Smiles 12 (FINAL) | Morose Mononokean II 12 - 13 (FINAL) | Spec Ops Asuka 11 - 12 (FINAL) | My Roommate is a Cat 12 (FINAL) | Mob Psycho 100 II 12 - 13 (FINAL) | Yu-No 1 | Fruits Basket (2019) 1 | We Never Learn 1 | Kimetsu no Yaiba 1 | Kono Oto Tomare! 1 | Mayonaka no Occult Koumuin 1 | Fairy Gone 1 | Rendai Utena 1

Notably, Sarazanmai’s first ep isn’t here, but it’s a huge contender for making my spring watchlist.

Shield Hero 11

Okay, someone’s trying to remind me of Goblin Slayer, aren’t they…? *grumble grumble grumble*

I wonder if Naofumi has a Thunder move like those guys…?

Why isn’t Raphtalia, who was cursed by Rage Shield, affected, but Filo, who was eaten by the zombie dragon, is???

Price of Smiles 12 (FINAL)

Is Huey…not an a$$? Is he just really tsundere…?

Fingers don’t move that way, Layla…

Post-credits segment. Keep watching…

I feel like making Stella and Yuki meet off the back of Layla’s death was a bit much and pushing the button together was a bit…much-er, if that’s a concept. Anyways, see you next time!

Morose Mononokean II 12

The Cobweb = Above the Spider (by literally translating that ep title, that is).

I’m finally listening to Koura’s voice. Koura sounds like she’s always teasing Itsuki…

Jinja = Shinto shrine. That nuance is missing from the translation.

Why did that one track (when Itsuki was escaping) sound like Mission Impossible…?

What’s an analeptic? I can’t seem to pause the video…Update: Apparently my ad blocker was stuffing with the pause button. Also, an analeptic appars to be a restorative drug, or describing a drug as restorative.

Rippou sounds so enthusiastic (sarcastic) when Shizuku offers to make him tea.

Spec Ops Asuka 11

Wat. A girl in Thailand going “nya”? Update: Uhh…apparently the girl in Thailand…was Peipei??? Wuh???

Hmm…I never actually put 2 and 2 together regarding karate and the whip. It makes sense in retrospect, though.

“…sever the…” – Sever the…what, exactly?

I thought human!Giess didn’t exist anymore under that armour…so seeing him surprised me.

Sometimes I feel like I sympathise with Chisato more than Asuka or Kurumi…that’s how developed Chisato is.

Mob Psycho 100 II 12

Serizawa is playing Bomberman.

I like the symbolism of the umbrella as a “light”.

My Roommate is a Cat 12 (FINAL)

The ep title is “Kimi to Boku to” (You and I and…). Presumably it should end with “everyone else”…or something.

Wait, wasn’t Subaru’s umbrella handle round before??? It’s straight now!

What a waste of a perfectly good umbrella!

Somehow I knew Subaru would go to Nana once he needed cat knowledge.

*Subaru rescues Haru* - *cue Lion King song* Ahhhhhhh ze ban yaaaaaaaaaaa…or something like that.

Why is it that I want a dub for this so…darn…badly???!!! Wait…*record scratch* it already has one. Scratch that.

Shield Hero 12

“I can’t stop trembling,” Raphtalia says as she stands there, still as a statue…geesh.

I’d assume there’s a Meteor Shield in there for Naofumi as well…?

Come to think of it, we never learnt that weapon merchant guy’s name until now, huh? Elhart. I’ll try my best to remember it.

Spec-Ops Asuka 12 (FINAL)

Twin-headed Dragon Peipei, huh?

Morose Mononokean II 13 (FINAL)

*Fuzzy gets punched away* - Fuzzy, noooooooo!

In the same way Mob became a so-called “bishonen” for s2 ep 5 of his show, Hanae became kind of hot – but also kind of weird – for the finale.

Notably, the “Ashiya” Abeno is referring to is only Hanae…not Sakae at all. Hmm.

Mob Psycho 100 II 13 (FINAL)

“Bishonen” Mob returns!

I keep getting the feeling that Mob will sacrifice himself this episode. It’s a very Mob thing to do, but…I worry about him, because without him we have no show.

*explosion* - I wanna yell “KANEDAAAAAAAAAA!” Is that appropriate for this scene?

I LOLled at Dimple wearing Serizawa’s chunk of hair, haha.

Anyways, that was way too fun (and way too worrying at the end). See you next time!

Yu-No 1

Okay, first episode of this particularly meager season…coming right up!

I’ve never had to watch an ep on phone for subs before…I much prefer a bigger screen.

Okay…as soon as I heard Potato-kun say “Panties?” I knew I was in for a bad time. I’m watching based on the title and the series image, not the fact it’s based on an adult VN.

I can’t believe we have to be told about these ladies from the guys first…I feel sorry for Yuki.

I-Is Arima-mama the kind of person one would call a “MILF”…? I dunno since I don’t swing that way.

Seriously, how long ago did Potato-kun’s father die??? (I know his name is Arima Takuya, but…he’s “Potato-kun” to me, even as a joke.)

Potato-kun is so obviously following his…pen island, so to speak.

Ah, Potato-kun. The only time you make me laugh is when you humiliate yourself on public news. Thank goodness this show isn’t particularly lewd…yet.

It’s like Grand Blue…only with less drinking.

Seriously, why does Yuki call Potato-kun “boss”???

The one time I hear the name “Neumann”, it’s this time travel show, of all things…*remembers von Neumann architecture* Yup, that’s where I remember his name from. By the by, Googling “Neumann space” yields this site on travelling to the…stars? Wrong frontier, folks.

Okay, that was probably the least exciting way to pull off a big reveal like that. Drop.

Shield Hero 13

To be honest…I like Rise better…

“You’re are surrounded.” – I know you’re in a hurry to sub your content, CR subbers, but seriously?????

It’s always funny to see Motoyasu get a good socking from Filo, LOL.

Fruits Basket 1

I have zero experience with OG Fruits Basket outside 1 episode I didn’t really finish (but finishd the entire manga and may have caught a tiny bit of it - not enough to mark on anyone’s anime list as “complete” - while it was on TV), so…this’ll be interesting.

This is exactly as I remember it! Beautifulllllllllllll…so beautiful I wanna cry…(Keep in mind I binged most of the manga years ago, so it’s getting harder and harder to remember the exact story every day.)

Holeeeeeeeeeeee…sugar. I just realised how old Fruits Basket is! Also, rumour has it Motoko has differently coloured hair in the OG version, but I didn’t watch (or didn’t remember) that part, so…I don’t have a standard to hold her up to, really. Plussssss…I love how Motoko and her Prince Yuki fanclub are like Mean Girls. The reason I had to check up how old Fruits Basket is is because of that comparison. Mean Girls is from 2004, thereby being 5 or 6 years younger than Fruits Basket.

The angelic “ahhhhh” in the background really sold how good Tohru’s food was (for Hanajima).

This CGI fan is going to haunt me until the end of my days, isn’t it…?

Ouch…I think I just realised why Fruits Basket is so powerful (at the part where Tohru is working hard at her job). It resonates strongly with those who are lost in life. I found I couldn’t really relate when I first read it though, which may have been attributed to the fact I was…what, 13?...at the time.

Shigure, you a$$!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wanna kick you for laughing at poor Tohru!!!!!!!!!!!

Photorealistic clouds…no. I think that Indian festival with the dye (I don’t remember which one it is off the top of my head) happened to my eyes…(i.e. my eyes…my poor eyes…)

I didn’t think Vickeblanka was capable of doing slower songs. This song’s kinda nice…but only because I heard the last few seconds of the ending (the rest was obscured by background noise and I don’t have time to play it again).

Between the comment about Shigure and the comment about the clouds, I was internally bawling about how stupid and spoilt I’d become. This is the power of Fruits Basket!

We Never Learn 1

Hmm…I thought the manga of this (or what I saw of it, at least) was kinda vanilla, so…this’ll be an experience, one way or another.

Yuiga’s face game is spot-on, LOL.

Aw, this show encourages the growth mindset…how cute. *does Kaguya-sama face*

The eyecatch is about what classes the main trio are in, but Furuhashi is taking it as related to boob size…*sigh*

The sign just says “library”. There’s no need to contextualise it more than that…

Yup, this is vanilla like ice cream…

Come to think of it, why did I pick this series up? I’ve read the manga parts that correspond to this episode…Well, I remember when this series was still new. I think it was that it was refreshing to see these guys so gung-ho about uni, because recently I’ve been in doubt about my own future (and to tell the truth, I’ve been thinking different things about what I want to do at different stages of my life anyway). I’ve literally only settled on the things I’m doing because I suck at everything else, but I can do whatever I put my mind to…for most things I try. Much like Fruits Basket is for those who are lost in life, We Never Learn is an affirmation that you can change your future…or something like that, anyway.

…The disembodied mouths creep me out…anyways, this show isn’t bad, it isn’t 100% a keeper either (unless I get co-opted into a collab for it). It’s just squarely in the middle.

Boob grope…eesh. That brought down the keeping factor down a little.

Kimetsu no Yaiba 1

[big chunk of information redacted because it’s me stressing over what has to be done before I go overseas...and also it reveals I had a collab for this lined up, which I’m trying to keep a surprise at the time this post went out]

To be honest, I don’t like 1st person cam.

Hmm…there’s more CGI than I’d like to admit is in here…

I remember reading a while ago that the “Tan” in Tanjiro is the word for “charcoal”.

Take = bamboo, and he’s a woodcutter kid. LOL.

This is exactly as I remember it! It’s kinda cool, since the smelling thing is obviously foreshadowing.

I remember I didn’t quite get the idea that Nezuko was growing in size in the manga…well, now I just did.

Oh-hoh-hoh-hohhhhhhh! Giyu Tomioka, me boy! There he is!

I didn’t know Giyu Tomioka was basically a ninja, LOL.

This is definitely one of the better series out there this season. It might not be the best due to its sheer amount of shonen trappings, but it’s still dang good! (I like Giyu Tomioka already, but now that I think of it, I’d like to see Lightning Boy in action within the show and not just the OP…hmm.)

[Sarazanmai 1 is not here because I saw it at the anime club first. I do intend to cover subsequent episodes here though…]

Kono Oto Tomare! 1

I find Funi’s video player unwieldy, to be honest. Maybe it’s because I’m too used to CR’s…

Oh! It seems like the Defence Club has a legacy now!

Surprisingly, this is very funny…!

Hmm…this seems like a show where you should ship people, but there doesn’t seem to be enough of a connection between anyone that I can see anyone shipping. I guess that’s why this thing is basically a shoujo in appearance, huh…?

By the way, who’s “Nadeshiko”? Takezo…?

Do you guys even know what a koto is? If you do, that’s great, but if you don’t, you’re going to have to infer…that’s a bit nasty for an ancient instrument the West doesn’t know about. Then again, this clearly isn’t something made for the West.

I’m wondering why the culprits confessed so easily…

Well, that was…alright. I went “aw” more than I expected and laughed more than expected. It’s not going to top the other shows I’ve got though.

Mayonaka no Occult Koumuin 1

For some reason, I’m just not used to calling this show “Midnight Occult Civil Servants”…that sounds clunky. That’s why I’m calling it “Mayonaka” for short…oh yeah, right now Funi is undergoing maintenance which is why I had to shuffle Mayonaka forward. I was meant to be doing Fairy Gone in this slot, to be honest with you.

Hmm…*thinks about time talking with Plyasm* *thinks about how Seo trid to kick this Reiji Kyoichi person* I see a resemblance here…with the kicking and all…Update: There is a guy called “Reiji” in this show, I just read “Kyoichi” wrong because I was trying to type up comments here.

Somehow it never actually occurred to me that Seo was a gender-neutral name. I’m normally quite good with these things…or maybe it was Ply keeping me up late that’s making me not notice…or even the fact I’m not listening to Seo’s voice, since that’s sometimes a hint to a person’s gender in particularly ambiguous cases (I’m currently not listening to the audio). Update: Okay, that’s definitely a man’s voice coming from the effeminate-looking Seo.

Oh yes…I forgot to mention, this show does an awful lot of telling and not showing.

I keep noting this episode is set on April Fool’s Day…what a day for pranking, huh?

I’ve seen a Cait Sith in anime before…so there’s a dog version too (Cu Sith), huh?

Tape? That’s so mundane…then again, I guess this is what happens when you have boring jobs in interesting places, huh? Reminds me a lot of my own stabs at this kind of story.

This is…angel-tengu Romeo and Juliet…

Now this is the real Reiji…I think?

Ohhhhhhh crab balls…these CGI angels look terrible.

I never thought cherry blossoms could look so terrible…urgh.

I’m of two minds when it comes to this show – on the one hand, I like its plot (it’s better than Charlotte in this field, at least). It’s a bit cliched, but it might lose against competition like Sarazanmai or even Kono Oto Tomare. On the other hand, its visuals are kinda…ugly.

Fairy Gone 1

Fa-Fanatica…? What sort of name is that??? (That’s not a good sign if I question the first name on the screen now, is it?)

Lay Dawn, would you please…lay down? (Okay, that joke only works with a particular pronunciation of “down”, but you get the bad pun…right? Right?)

So this is Spec-Ops Asuka without the huge boobs, I expect? That would make Fairy Gone at least 10 points (on my anime list) better than the thing I’m comparing it with.

I think the tiny symbols under most of the credits are stylised English, although I was looking at a credit for a guy with the surname Yamamoto and it wasn’t quite working.

The CGI is one of the better efforts I’ve seen, but still slightly obvious.

Veronica’s run reminds me of Akira from Devilman Crybaby. You know the one GIF of him running while leaning forward at an impossible angle? That one.

Post-credits scene…keep watching.

This is another anime Jesus…(the first one was Kagura’s dad in Ga Rei Zero.)

Rendai Utena 1

(Update: This was an anime I had to watch via VPN. Notably, the last time I resorted to one was B Project...however, no one remembers that but me, so the last big time I had to use a VPN was for Sakamoto Desu Ga?.)

Uh…yeah. This is the one Buddha anime this season. But before you run off, screaming about how blasphemous I must be to Buddhists, I’ll have you know I was originally not intending to watch this…if you know me well enough, you’ll know I like bishies. Only after I compiled my to-watch list for this season did one of the star bishies show up and convince me to watch…yeah, now you can run away screaming. (Oh and if you’re interested as to what image caught my attention enough to make me watch a show…it’s the top image on this CR page – not the thumbnail, the other top image.)

Okayyyyyyy…for a show about bishies, you sure aren’t capturing me right now with this plight of a salaryman.

Aw, dangit. I actually liked the few moments this was a zombie anime! Give me High School of the Dead, but with bishies instead of jiggly-boob girls! *shakes fist at cloud*

Oh, great…I can’t even tell who’s who around here. They even had little name cards and everything! So much for my great memory…*grumble grumble* But hey, at least I recognise some names…not from being Buddhist, but from other anime. I mean, Miroku is the guy from Inuyasha and Fudo Myouou is the guy who inspired Okurikara in Touken Ranbu, yeah?

Uh, hey. Isn’t sloth meant to be a vice? Isn’t “lounging around” a vice???

Another thing. I get the feeling that putting these guys in tracksuits is just trying to coast on the success of Touken Ranbu. Touken Ranbu is nice, but only because I was familiar with the source game and a bit about the fandom. This? I have no such basis.

Lotus Head – Bonten – his nagging is starting to get on my nerves already. I came for Taishakuten, not you!

Yeah…even in Touken Ranbu, they have washing machines. Convenience, but also…vice in terms of that old-timey Buddha stuff, I guess…? Update: Actually, I thought about it and I don’t think they’ve ever shown a washing machine in Hanamaru, but I think they might’ve had a fridge.

Wait, wait, wait…the bird was a bishie tooooooooo?????????????? I think that’s the biggest bending my brain’s going to get all premiere season (for this season)! Even more so than the entire debut of Sarazanmai!

Wait, wait, wait…Bonten likes porridge?! D’ya mean “congee” or “oatmeal” kinda porridge? I can’t tell because I’ve got the volume off, but if it’s the latter then Bonten wouldn’t have known about it. Update: It appears to be the latter. How Bonten would’ve ever known about porridge…I don’t know.

New aesthetic – Taishakuten’s hair. I like me a man with a ponytail (which is why I fell hook, line and sinker for him in the first place), but his hair done up like it is in the bath…*swoons, then goes back to normal* That is all.

What’s up with Paomi anyway…? And…this is kinda petty if the central conflict is just getting Shaka to get off cooking duties. That’s too low a conflict for even Hanamaru, methinks.

So…you introduce all these Buddha guys and then expect me to care about some human who doesn’t even have a name? Wuh…?

Okayyyyyyy…I’ve never seen an earthquake that was that fast before.

Wait, wait, huh???????? The guy who voices Taishakuten is…Choreo (Brave Beats)??????????? Oh no, I should’ve listened to it! Anyways, I’ve decided I’m dropping it, simply because if I want Taishakuten only for his looks, I can just find a wallpaper of him.

[rabbitocean]

My memories of this time are somewhat hazy so please forgive me if the details seem a little odd. They’re half buried in a dream. Please forgive me if I seem to veer off the topic of our discussion, or well, my story. Lastly, please forgive me for repeating myself three times. Its a habit that I need to get rid of when it concerns apologies.

Now...you wanted to know about how this all began.

I stared blankly out the window. It was one of those partially cloudy days where everyone always wanted to go outside, even in this squalid city. As always, I balked. The sun was out, and it was still too hot. Though too hot in my mind was anything above seventy degrees Fahrenheit. So with a grimace, and a shake of the head, I closed the blinds and turned back to the rest of my second floor apartment.

Apartment is the wrong word for it actually. It’s defiantly more of a house, since I bought and inhabited the entire second floor on this side of the block. My room occupied a third of the total space. It was a lavishly decorated space. Old paintings, statues in the old greek and roman styles, a four post veiled bed, a large wardrobe and vanity. Most of this I inherited from my old mentor who passed away not three years before I bought this place. Though despite my mentor’s expensive tastes in decor, which i dutifully kept according to his will; every surface of the room was covered in books. Bookshelves lined every empty space, the large antique desk and low coffee table bore stacks of manuals, journals, and heavy tomes of various topics. Truly quarters fit for an Archmage.

It was home, and it fit me like a glove. Though it was a pain to clear space on the coffee table in case I had people over for tea, or other activities.. I glanced at the ancient grandfather clock sitting directly opposed to the double doors that led to the rest of the apartment, 11:15. No more time to spend sitting about then. I threw on some day old clothes draped half-heartedly over the back of a sofa, (everything else was strewn about) and strode through the double doors, letting them hang open behind me as I entered the wide open floor of my workshop.

An entire floor dedicated to my studies in the mystical and mechanical. I graduated several years ago with a degree in robotics engineering, specializing in cybernetics. Though, many never took my ideas seriously before my mentor. Thanks to him, this entire floor was furnished with every aparatus I could wish for from fine tuning and testing to machining and assembling anything I may need. It hummed with power, the air was vibrant and fresh as my air conditioning constantly pumped to keep the heat at bay. It was here i laboured over my projects and advanced my understanding in fields unknown to many.

My mentor was known as Baroque Legato, I know its a queer name but he took great pride in making sure everyone knew exactly what to call him. I do believe he had it legally changed from whatever his old name was, but he never shared it with anyone as far as I knew. No one from his past called him anything but Baroque or Doctor Legato. I hope I’m not the only one who felt it was off.

I first met him at my university. He was the professor assigned as my advisor, and for the most part I went unnoticed until I declared for robotics and proceeded to upset every other professor with off the wall ideas. Everyone believed I was wasting their time, except for Baroque. We would have long discussions in the basement workrooms of the university about boldy exploring different paths to science, and about how both science and life were about discovering something first, then working to understand it. He firmly believed that improving what we already understood was a solid, but boring and unbearably slow process.

I should also mention that Baroque was the head professor of the robotics department, also the most awarded and well known. He was the mind that sparked our sudden rise in cybernetic technology you know. I may have done a lot of the foot work and branching ideas, but his initial delve into the field is what gave us the foundation non-magical scientists work off of today.

Now, one day after a few long discussions. Baroque handed me a book, the cover was too smudged for me to make out, and it was clear it had been passed from teacher to student for a long. Long. Time.

“Give this a read when you have some time, Evelyn.” He said in his low, raspy voice.

How rude of me, I haven’t even given you an idea of what he looks like. Baroque was a rather tall, angular man, his greying hair seemed to stick out in all directions as though he had been electrified (as I later learned, that was often the case) and his frazzled beard matched. His eyes however were a keen grey, he always gave the impression he was staring straight into you, or straight through you. Sometime he would finish your sentences, and just nod knowingly. I never understood how he did this until much later, and even now I’m still somewhat bewildered with how effortlessly he did it. He was a tall man, easily a head and a half above me. He was always dressed in a lab coat and scrubs that seemed a size too big for him, and constantly obscured the shape of his body. He slouched often, though the few times I watched him straighten up were rather intimidating. Those times he was a large, broad shouldered man who looked as though he could snap whoever was in front of him like a twig. But, he was a kindly man. Given his eccentric behaviors, he often scared the younger students away, those who remained found him to be an absolute joy to work with. The world has truly lost one of its brightest minds.

So he gave me this old book. It was large, leather bound, and smelled of vanilla slag. Old books and welding torches. In my spare time I read it. It was a shoddily constructed journal, each teacher inserted their own notes, observations, and essays concerning a certain subject. There seemed to be centuries long debates, wild winded theories, and often insane perspectives, all surrounding this one thing. Reality.

I read that book, cover to cover. It took me three full months to puzzle through and decipher all of the handwriting and codes some of the previous authors used. As well as translate several languages; arabic, greek, latin, russian, and chinese, to name just a few. It was within my grasp to do though and before long I had compiled my own journal of the translated writings.

It was around the same time that Baroque invited me to a dinner at his home, just outside the city. The dinner was small and rather informal. He asked if I had finished the book, and I confirmed his suspicion, showing him my “translation” He seemed ecstatic and we talked well into the night about everything that journal contained. When I was tired, I excused myself momentarily to use the rest room before I would head home. That;s likely when he slid a second book into my bag, as he knew I probably wouldn’t have accepted another set of reading that night, and I didn’t notice the book until I was getting ready for a day trip to the beach with friends the next day.

I can’t tell you the name of the book, because honestly I’m not quite sure myself. But I read it, that day at the beach, when my friends weren’t pestering me to put it down anyways, but I digress. I spent the next year reading and re-reading this book. It was the most vague and cryptic set of texts I had ever come across, I knew after reading it a second time that this must’ve come from Baroque. However he claimed to have no knowledge of the book, despite the knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Then it happened.