#apparently it’s a bit bizarre that I quoted (almost) all of it

[therighthandofvengeance]

[thebirdandhersong]

oh yes ladies I was asked out (on a DATE) last week and I'm still cry-laughing over it because WOW that went down SO badly

[mariana-oconnor]

The Red-Headed League Pt 2

until the comical side of the affair so completely overtopped every other consideration that we both burst out into a roar of laughter.

Professional people being professional. Mmhm. You'd think a doctor would be better at keeping a straight face, I'm pretty sure humans have been sticking inappropriate things in inappropriate places since time immemorial. But these two are giggling like school boys. A lovely image, but I'd be a bit mad if they did it to me. I can't blame Mr Wilson for being mad at them.

Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on the ground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr Duncan Ross was. He answered that the name was new to him.

Surprising no one at all. I said it in my comments about the first part, but I love how this whole scam has been echoed in heist shows/films right up to modern day. Acquire offices under false pretences, create hype around fake business, use office to make business look legit, pack up shop and leave an empty office behind and no one with any clue what the mark is talking about.

"I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say that if I waited I should hear by post.

I mean, honestly, for someone who is supposedly unassociated with the league in question, that's more than he should be able to say. A more normal response would be 'That's fucking weird, boss. I think it might be a scam.' But clearly Victor is entirely trustworthy, so I shouldn't question him. Totally trustworthy.

On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some 30 pounds, to say nothing of the minute knowledge which you have gained on every subject which comes under the letter A.

I expect that pub quizzes weren't around in 1890, but if they were, Mr Wilson would be an excellent addition to your team.

The internet tells me pub quizzes only date back to the 70s. Which seems late, as I swear my Mum's dad and brothers used to go religiously to their local league when she was young, but maybe I got the timeline on that wrong.

Further investigation has found me to be correct as the very league my family used to frequent is apparently referenced in an article from the early 60s. In fact it quotes someone who absolutely must have known my grandad and might even be in the picture of the quiz team on top of our bookcase.

This tangent has been brought to you by my love of trivia... Pun intended.

Back to the 1890s

"Why did you pick him?"

"Because he was handy and would come cheap."

"At half-wages, in fact."

"Yes."

A lesson that stands to this day: if something seems impossibly good value, it probably is. And if someone is willing to work for less than they're worth, one of you is the bad guy.

"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter."

This reads like a contradiction, but I'm pretty sure it's true. It's the weird things that make crimes stand out and lead to the people committing them. The crimes that are completely run of the mill, like house burglaries, are one of a thousand almost identical crimes. But if a juggling clown robbed a shoe shop and rode off on a unicycle, that would cut down the suspects drastically.

"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three pipe problem, and I beg that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes."

Infamous line is infamous. All problems may be measured by how many pipes it takes to solve them. The standard SI unit of mysteriousness, I believe.

"Sarasate plays at the St. James's Hall this afternoon," he remarked. "What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few hours?"

"I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing."

Let's hope no one has stuck a candlestick anywhere unmentionable... But seriously, you can just ditch your patients for the day? And I complain about waiting times for the NHS!

Watson is just: 'My bff asked me to play hooky. Lol. Byeee!' and these people are paying him.

"Smart fellow, that," observed Holmes as we walked away. "He is, in my judgment. the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something of him before."

Holmes, the man is a terrible con artist. He's the most suspicious and he was so obvious it was embarrassing. And you're putting him right behind you in the list? (I assume Mycroft is number 1)

I guess that being intelligent doesn't mean you have to be good at conning people, but really, he's terrible at it. He couldn't have been more obviously involved if he had a sandwich board on saying 'The red-headed league is a con. Ask me how!'

I know Mr Wilson didn't work it out, but literally everyone else did. I bet that 14 year old child labour maid Mr Wilson hires knows he's a con man and just doesn't care because she's not paid enough to.

"Not him."

"What then?"

"The knees of his trousers."

I have been on this website too long, because my mind absolutely went into the gutter here. Which, incidentally, was also one of the places I thought of his knees being.

"Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it."

Is it a bank? Please be a bank. I honestly can't remember. But I want it to be a bank. Just for that good, old-fashioned bank robbery shenanigans. Although I will accept jewellery shop.

"There is Mortimer's, the tobacconist, the little newspaper shop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriage-building depot."

Oh yeah. Got to love a bank robbery. Classic.

This has been copied so many times in media it's difficult to tell whether contemporary audiences would have been as able to work it out as modern readers. But it's a classic for a reason.

Also worth noticing that there's a Vegetarian restaurant in London in 1890. You'd have been hard pressed to find a vegetarian restaurant in most parts of England in 1990, so that's ahead of its time.

My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only a very capable performer but a composer of no ordinary merit. All the afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happiness, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music, while his gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes were as unlike those of Holmes, the sleuth-hound, Holmes the relentless, keen-witted, ready-handed criminal agent, as it was possible to conceive.

Watson's crush is showing again. 😆

This description keeps going in a further totally heterosexual way. Look, I'm not saying straight guys can't appreciate their bff's 'languid, dreamy eyes', but when directly compared to his descriptions of other characters... This is exceptionally effusive is all I'm saying.

And, I say, Doctor, there may be some little danger, so kindly put your army revolver in your pocket.

Must. Not. Make. Joke.

[thosearentcrimes]

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley is a lot better than Dracula. The flow of the text is better, it's more fun to read, the themes are more subtle and interesting. Perhaps a better work to compare to would be The Vampyre, a work which arose from the same impromptu writing circle as Frankenstein, and which apparently introduced the vampire into anglophone literature in a form recognizably similar to that which appears many decades later in Dracula. However, I have read Dracula, and so have many others, and I have not read The Vampyre.

By way of example of the superiority of Frankenstein, consider the use of the epistolary device. Dracula retains it throughout the narrative, in which it interferes constantly, to no appreciable benefit. The rapid shift from narrator to narrator is not accompanied by significant insight into their character and internal world, as the characters are in fact precisely who everyone else takes them to be. By contrast, Frankenstein also begins with an epistolary introduction, but then transitions reasonably cleanly into narrative. The epistolary device is not used to much greater effect, but less of a bad thing is still an improvement.

The writing of these letters is remarkably bad. I understand that tastes change, but the letters (including those cited in the non-epistolary section) consist largely of people telling each other things they clearly already know, for the benefit of the reader. Surely there is no point in writing letters into the story if they're not going to make sense within the narrative? Additionally, both letters and dialogue are all rendered in the same voice.

On this note, while Shelley has gone to great lengths to justify the eloquence of the monster, and this eloquence does in fact serve a worthwhile thematic purpose, the effect of it is reduced somewhat by every other character being bizarrely eloquent as well. Additionally the mechanism by which the monster is rendered eloquent is quite frankly a long series of plot holes. As appropriate as it is for the monster to reference Paradise Lost, it is quite inexplicable for a French-speaking monster in 18th century Germany to have found a copy of it (and some other books) in the first place, let alone been able to read it, for starters.

Some of the character introductions, especially but not exclusively those done by way of letters, are a bit too obviously utilitarian. I rather prefer it when the author either sets up all the characters and plot points in such a way that the reader cannot tell that they serve a specific narrative purpose later, or that they simply introduce them when they come up. A character brought up with no immediate motivation a chapter or two before they become narratively relevant is like a recognizable big-name actor in a police procedural, it gives the game away. I wonder what happens in a couple chapters with this tragic innocent in this gothic horror novel!

Despite all my criticism, I quite liked Frankenstein and I think it is not only worth reading but additionally a good book. The story has relevant themes, ably explored, without letting them get too far in the way of a gripping narrative. The philosophical points it sets out are still valid and relevant today, and not in a facile way. Merely substitute "life" for "intelligence", which in any case is really a substitution of synonyms as far as the general form of the argument goes, and make other minor adjustments as necessary, and you get a more intelligent analysis of AI than almost any I have read in the press or in blogs, though that speaks more to the miserable state of that discourse than anything else.

Easily the most affecting part of the book is the narration by the monster himself, and really the book improves as it approaches this point, and deteriorates as it departs. Some decontextualized quotes that particularly stuck with me: "I, too, can create desolation; my enemy is not invulnerable; this death will carry despair to him", "My vices are the children of a forced solitude that I abhor", and best of all "I intended to reason. This passion is detrimental to me; for you do not reflect that you are the cause of its excess."

[violetsystems]

#personal

Outside of looking for jobs and hanging out with mutuals here, I lead an extremely boring life. Or so it would seem. I've tried to increase my visibility on social media a bit but it seems like I'm not important enough to bleed through any algorithmic wall. My old job was getting sort of long in the tooth and I had been networking to find another path. But I come from an era where if being too weird on high profile social media would interfere with those kind of career goals. For as under the radar I am, people do single me out and target me often. And the last few weeks, it's been a certain type of person who apparently got my number off my CV. Everybody down here knows I've written at length about bizarre shit in my own cringeworthy way. It's half trauma dump and half police blotter. But how it all shakes out is what I pay attention to. And while people might stalk my Tumblr, I don't really interact too much with people I don't really know. Seeing as how random women from China and Singapore just casually text me like it's the wrong number. I had to put the kibosh on that by impersonating a field agent. It doesn't really register to people when I tell them that my current job is somewhere between private detective and cybersecurity professional. You'd have to be Columbo to find a job in this market at my age. But Tumblr to me always resembled the house parties I used to frequent back in the day when I worked at an art school. People were more focused on a community back then. Although I remember the fateful halloween when I was stuck in a corner at a party by myself scrolling through this app on my phone. The etiquette and culture of Tumblr these days has evolved as we've all aged maybe. I still don't really know who anyone is. And it's in this anonymity that you really connect with people in an honest way. Talking through images rather than beating people over the head with sales pitches and commercial networking is a lot more intimate to me. Like being on a couch at party with friends, leaning over to whisper in someone's ear over all the noise. And then there's Linkedin where it seems only rich Asian women find me interesting enough to text out of nowhere and berate me for being poor. But for all the crazy shit I've written on here, I've only really been hazed and bullied in real life almost every day of it. But I think it has more to do with people's perception of me outside of here. Nobody but my real friends read these. Nobody in my past life really even bothers to check in on me to see if I'm ok. So all I really have is the peace and quiet of this platform. And how dead to the world I am because of it.

I bring up this Hiroshi Fujiwara quote every six months to explain how I feel about this site. He said because of the internet there aren't really any more revivals anymore. The punk way of finding out what you are into via the internet is very close to the house party scene that vanished into clubs. You'd go to a basement show and see some sick ass fucking shit. You'd meet some people and it would be a chaotic mess of noise, art, and free spirit. Now everything needs to be monetized. I keep hearing about all these people dj'ing now that have to sell tickets or promote fake plants who might just be undercover police. How nobody makes music really or it's not important enough to listen to. I had one person I fell out of contact with tell another friend I'm sort of falling out of contact with that I needed to "get back on my social media grind." I was a great producer. But there was something missing. I didn't expose my facial features to the Instagram AI enough to be a real person. Instagram isn't going to pay me. Neither is Tumblr but it's the thought that counts. I spent most of the last two and a half years trying to maintain a professional presence on the professional website where you can get a job. And I hung out in not so much the vip lounge but the smoking section of Denny's comparatively when you think about my time on Tumblr. People aren't afraid to be seen because nobody is watching. And when people come down here to watch, I wonder sometimes if the algorithm just throws weak shit out of orbit. If I wanted to meet new people, they seem to think my resume at this point is a dating service. Pete Davidson can't even get a number at the Met Gala. I have a different problem. But it's something I'm trained professionally to deal with as a cybersecurity contractor nobody seems to want to admit breathes or has fiscal needs beyond my own passive income. I'm everybody's favorite punching bag by proxy for something I'm not even part of anymore. Art School hired me for two decades then shunned me like I wasn't cool anymore. And I ended up down here cash positive while everyone else is worried about resuming their student loans. That's not something I make light of. But I have a hard time feeling sorry for fake ass bullshit when it tries to pretend I died instead of acknowledging the pain I put behind me.

For whatever it's worth I write here week after week because I choose to. If I really believed in fate, then the scientific method has taught me it only nudges you in a general direction. You have to make the choice to focus on what you really want. That bit about evil I was going to write about in Time Bandits is mostly from that catfished WhatsApp storm of messages. Do I believe in fate? Do I believe that the people I've grown close to on Tumblr and off have nothing to do with me making a choice to change my own orbit? No. I could have sat here and been the person everyone out there wants me to be. Weak. Complacent. Never questioning anything. Afraid to speak my mind in fear someone will make fun of what I say. We are way past those red lines. What I walk through every day is nothing more than some ghetto ass catwalk slash commercial for an under appreciative audience of people ready to throw tomatoes at the world stage. The culture has fallen into atrophy. CEO's think they can become social media czars and turn entire platforms into a standing meeting or SCRUM. And that person had the money to buy it out completely. I was on Linkedin the other day and Yahoo had a poll about what other social media were you going to choose like it was the Pepsi Coca Cola wars all over again. Obviously Tumblr wasn't listed. I said the one you let get away. The reality that Tumblr is weird has a lot more to do with being shunned, abandoned and left to grow. Nobody wanted to pay attention to our wants and needs or what we thought was cool. And now what we all thought was cringe is just the unassuming and honest embrace of the underground. There's nothing really to keep weird other than the vision of what we've all become. Ourselves. The book True Names by Vernor Vinge embraced the ethos of what Cyber "Punk" was supposed to be about. You never gave your true name unless you wanted them to find you. And in my case, I've always been on main. That's been my ideological choice to be hardcore. Even if my name isn't my own. Just like the samples I've used in my music has gotten me excommunicated by Pitchfork and Hyperdub as some divine punishment for following the rules of a music called Jungle which sampled the Amen Brother so many fucking times that it's the idea and not the intellectual property. Do I fucking care? No. Everybody knows me in the She-Hulk sense of the word. Violet Fucking Systems. And I run the hazy strategically ambiguous culture that has connected me in bizarre ways to people I love without saying a word. Nobody will ever understand it or get close enough to it if only to throw rocks. And the cringe shield around me is about as thick as the ass I focus on daily. Poetically speaking of course. I don't know how fat your ass is, baby. Though I'm sure it's juicy in the exotic burger sense of the word. But I love you for it just the same. In the gyakusou sense. Which in Japanese means reverse cowgirl or something. I dunno. It's the only one for me. Just like Tumblr. <3 Tim

[marvellousstawler]

Tuesday 3 Oct 2023

The Vibe is this: it was the first day of daylight savings today but the sky was dark the whole day because of Melbourne spring rain, which couldn't decide if it wanted to be humid or cold, but was absolutely sure that it was torrential.

Art My excuse for not working on any of my unfinished drawings this week is that I have to finish my homemade Flame Emperor mask by Saturday for PAX Aus. For first-time mask-makers, take note: air-drying clay doesn't work. Past Marv was a fool and didn't realise it would crack as soon as it dried. Present Marv is wiser and is attempting to use Plaster of Paris. Future Marv is likely laughing at her, and is hopefully the proud owner of a wonderfully shitty Flame Emperor mask. The works being hiatus'd on account of the mask are a cool picture of my 2 D&D characters, a massive picture for Edelgard's birthday which I started the day AFTER Edelgard's birthday in June and is no where near finished, and, a while back I bought a copy of 'Wyrd Sisters' with one of those newfangled minimalist-graphic covers, and I thought I'd add a bunch of my gaudy spooky illustrations to it. Witchify it. Which I should just do, I should just get that done.

Writing Recent-Past Marv made the...truly *bewildering* decision to try and print out and hand-bind a very large, very unfinished fanfiction, in multiple volumes, for her friend AND herself. A fanfiction, which neither Past Marv nor Present Marv has even read. Apparently Recent-Past Marv's idea was that the project would motivate her to read it, because for some reason she finds the Ao3 interface...unfriendly? The reasons for her reticence are arcane. Anyway, this bizarre project has eaten valuable writing time, and will likely continue to do so. Even so, I did have an opportunity to outline my first chapter of the next part of the project currently known as TDD, a draft I like quite a bit. Also, memory doesn't serve well but I think I spent a weirdly large amount of time working on a comic-isation of Dorothea and Manuela's supports (working title is 'Mittelfranks'), which, that was supposed to be three chapters and one self-indulgent fourth...it is now nine. ...look the very specific dynamic between these two characters feels like it was custom-designed to infiltrate my limbic system and mass-produce serotonin. But only time will tell if THAT project ever exceeds the scripting stage. I also had a chance to write a hand-written draft of a novel about my most recent D&D character. The concept feels like it's too much to chew though. Still, worth getting an idea down.

Reading Finished 'Wyrd Sisters' by Terry Pratchett the other day, which has taken like a month. It's the first book I've finished in about 2 years, and it's instantly become one of my all-time favourites -- it almost feels like it was written FOR me and that is a RARE feeling. I've been collecting quotes in a notebook, the 'collecting' giving me a further incentive for reading, but I only started collecting from page 40 of the book. I'm torn between moving on to the next thing on my To Read list, or going back to trawl through the 40 pages for cool quotes. Might as well spend just a little more time with this new friend. Here's the most recent quote I collected, from page 2: "A key to the understanding of all religion is that a god's idea of amusement is Snakes and Ladders with greased rungs." Damn, Pratchett out here with takes that have remained piping hot since 1988.

[augment-techs]

Roger Ebert Reviews as Writing Prompts (part i)

It is relatively painless to pierce many body areas, not all.

It is deadly grim.

They have a faint scent almost of a…corpse.

At a time like this, it is useful to have a vampire as your best pal.

Maybe he is the familiar, maybe he just likes blood.

The palette is so drained of warm colors that even fresh blood is black.

“Little kids, especially girls, will love this. Yeah, there's some blood and one really quick shot of nudity, but just because they're young doesn't mean they're stupid. Kids will totally get this."

A sermon written in blood.

There are words scrawled at the crime scenes.

But the original ending is still there, and the quote plays more like a bleak joke.

There they look into Dante's Inferno, Milton's Paradise Lost and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.

What could become a routine cop movie is elevated by the evocation of dread mythology and symbolism.

What's the lesson? Let that be a warning to us?

With a visit to the laboratory of his eponymous anti-hero, who, shadowed by a servile assistant, is busy carving up a naked cadaver.

The culminating capstone of a tetralogy.

It's morbid but upbeat, grim yet rapturous.

A muscular vision of a man pursuing his own damnation as deliberately as any Charles Bukowski protagonist.

As well as grotesquely bizarre when seen nude.

It's grungy and unkempt, and they look like they have been nourished from birth on beef jerky and Cheetos.

They drink their coffee out of the lid of the cookie jar.

One is obsessed with finding a dozen perfect eggs. Another finds an unprecedented use for the rest room.

"We're gonna have some sex."

"It's the same thing only you're saving the $2 rental fee."

Whose boldness is not a seduction technique but an act of generosity, almost of mercy.

Everybody lives in big houses surrounded by autumnal woods, and spends a lot of time walking by the sides of lakes.

“His mistakes were made when he selected not the toughest, but the most beautiful lines of light."

Prodigies are found most often in three fields: chess, mathematics and music.

Then they essentially disappeared into a netherworld of rented rooms, phantom sightings, paranoid outbursts and allegiance to a religious cult.

Their life does not inspire envy.

A game that has been compared to war and plundered for its lurking Freudian undertones.

They center around our responsibility, if any, to our gifts.

“The choice between truth and beauty.”

"Like the origin of everything else in the tragedy, in the character of its hero."

The egg is crawling with germs, sending the inside of their body into emergency mode.

Assured that the oysters are cleansed, they eat one.

Being so relentlessly upbeat, wholesome and asexual that you walk out of the theater thinking of the (drag)queens as role models.

For them homosexuality seems less a sexual orientation than a license to practice family counseling.

“Something passed between them: the faintest hint of a common destiny.”

Whose rendition of "Blue Moon" must be seen to be appreciated.

“Everyone knows pigs are smarter than horses and maybe dogs and certainly sheep.”

"I'm sorry I bit you."

“The first hazard for the returning hero is fame.”

And it is still literate, humane and wicked.

Apparently facing doom, they turn, looks their enemy in the eye, and asks, "Why?"

They materialize out of the abyss of the imagination.

"A place just a little to the left of the 20th century."

"I don't think the sun even exists in this place. I've been up for hours and hours, and the night never ends here."

And they filled it with grotesques.

Who sacrifice love for a higher purpose.

“If I were forced to choose between my country and my friend, I hope I would be brave enough to choose my friend.”

[commentaryvorg]

Digimon Data Squad Dub Comparison Episode 37 - The Battle With Belphemon

This is a companion to my commentary on the original Japanese Digimon Savers! Reading my commentary on the original version of this episode (which you can find here) is recommended before reading this dub comparison.

Original name ~ Dubbed name

Masaru Daimon ~ Marcus Damon

Yoshino Fujieda ~ Yoshino “Yoshi” Fujieda

Tohma H. Norstein ~ Thomas H. Norstein

Ikuto Noguchi ~ Keenan Crier

Sayuri Daimon ~ Sarah Damon

Professor Suguru Daimon ~ Doctor Spencer Damon

Yukidarumon ~ Frigimon

BanchouLeomon ~ BanchoLeomon

[Since several characters share the same name between the original and the dub, quotes from the dub will always be in italics, while quotes from the original will not, in order to distinguish them.]

Kurata’s doing the recap again! I wouldn’t have complained for once if it was Thomas, thanks to what happened last episode, but I’m not saying no to taking one of the few remaining opportunities for some more Kurata recapping.

Recap Kurata:  “I fused myself with Belphemon, and now Thomas will pay for his deceitfulness!”

He’s still so mad about the betrayal even in the recap, heh.

Masaru:  “I want to save my friends.”

~~~~~

Marcus:  “I can’t take any more of this!”

This line from a rerun of the final scene of episode 36 was inexplicably a different line in the original episode 37, but the dub kept it as the correct episode 36 line it was supposed to be.

Marcus:  “I don’t know what trouble is waiting for me out there, but I do know, I have to try to help my friends… before it’s too late!”

WAIT, never mind, this part is different to how it was in the dub of episode 36. Okay, so I guess the dub decided to keep the fact that this scene rerun is weirdly inconsistent with how it went in the previous episode, but do it in a different way? What the actual hell. It’s not even that they completely re-translated and rewrote this whole bit for this episode, because the “I can’t take any more of this!” line really is the line from episode 36, I’m pretty sure. Bizarre.

Did… did Belphemon read out the title card? I can only assume that’s him, because it’s deep and growly but I don’t recognise it. Or maybe it’s Ravemon, actually, hm. (Having checked both their voices from later in the episode: yeah, it's Ravemon.) Unusual to have it be a character we haven’t heard speak yet, though.

Marcus:  “Damn that Kurata! I’ll never forgive him for this!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Kurata! What have you done?!”

Nothing any worse than what ShineGreymon did, really, Marcus, since all you’re looking at is the destruction in the city. Like, at this point one would kind of expect the city to get pretty destroyed; you can marvel at the scale of it, but not really at the fact that it happened at all.

Masaru:  “Agumon! Let’s fight together!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Agumon… it looks like we may be too late…!”

Marcus is apparently legitimately afraid that he might get there and find his friends… already dead, I guess? Which is kind of fun but also really not something Marcus should be letting himself acknowledge on any level. Where’s that stubborn optimism and refusal to accept bad outcomes, especially when they’re still only a possibility?

Masaru:  “Even though you’re a Digiegg right now, our feelings are the same! Right, Agumon?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “But as soon as you hatch from that Digiegg, we’re gonna make Kurata pay! If that’s not incentive, what is?!”

It’s weird that Marcus is taking this angle of feeling like he almost has to bribe Agumon into deciding to hatch from the egg with the incentive of revenge against Kurata. As if he feels like the problem isn’t that Agumon can’t hatch, but that he just doesn’t want to because he’s in a sulk with Marcus over what happened and needs to be persuaded out of it. That’s… really not it? Very different vibe from Masaru insisting that their feelings are the same (which of course they would be, if Agumon were at all conscious in there in any way).

Ikuto:  “Did they come to help Kurata?”

~~~~~

Keenan: “They must have come to help Kurata!”

Ikuto said this as a question – he was assuming, but he wasn’t entirely sure and was probably at least hoping the answer might be no. Keenan just sounds certain of it.

Yoshino:  “Tohma! Did you finish the stuff you had to do?”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “So, then. Are you back for good?”

It seems that, unlike Yoshino, Yoshi did not believe all along that Thomas hadn’t really betrayed them. Not only does she not express awareness of “stuff he had to do”, the fact that she’s asking him if he’s “back for good” suggests she’s still thinking he might change his mind again and go back to siding with Kurata. Meaning, she’s very likely to have genuinely thought he was siding with Kurata until now. I am sad about this; I really liked this small understated moment showing that Yoshino got it.

Thomas: “Yes.”

Thomas answering Yoshi’s question in the affirmative makes it sound like he did just change his mind, rather than the truth that he was really never not “back” in the first place, which would require pointing out that she’s asking the wrong question.

Yoshino:  “Give me a week’s worth of Usagiya’s finest bean jam rice cakes. Then I’ll forgive you.”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “Well, maybe if you buy me a box of manju… then I *might* forgive you.”

Instead of having Yoshi’s free-food request be some Japanese thing the audience wouldn’t be familiar with, they picked a Japanese thing the audience would actually know, referencing the manju episode, which is neat. Come on, though, Yoshi, only one box? That’s nothing next to Yoshino’s a week’s worth. Thomas is loaded, you can swindle more off him than just one.

(The added “might” potentially makes her sound less willing to forgive him, but I can also read it as “or maybe I’ll make you buy me more food after that” opportunism, which would be very her.)

Kurata:  “How dare you have the gall to betray me! Tohma Norstein!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Thomas. I treated you like a son. And you turned on me.”

You… really didn’t. Do most dads put bombs around their daughters’ necks?

Because the dub’s usually good at Kurata, I want to say this is meant to be Kurata’s twisted logic insisting that he’s so great that he really did treat Thomas that well. But… that doesn’t entirely align with the kind of irrational stuff Kurata usually spouts to talk himself up. That’s more along the lines of being powerful, not being a kind and caring person. And especially given his beef with Spencer and the fact that Spencer was, knowing him, likely to have mentioned his son a fair bit around his assistant, I don’t think Kurata would want to associate himself with that kind of image.

Thomas: “Well, too bad!”

Damn. Just roast him, Thomas. He gives no fricks about Kurata attempting to make this into a sob story. Boo hoo, Kurata, cry us a river.

(Hm, one aspect of Kurata I can kind of see being touched on with his line up there is his tendency to paint himself as a huge tragic victim; maybe we can pretend that’s what’s going on in his head there. Not convinced it’s on purpose, but. Especially as he’s gone so god complex by now that he wouldn’t want to think about being a victim at all.)

Tohma:  “You hated the Digimon with such intensity, and yet you fused with Belphemon, who is also a Digimon!”

MirageGaogamon: “What a fool.”

~~~~~

Thomas:  “I find it ironic that someone who despises Digimon as much as you has decided to fuse himself with one to get what he wants.”

MirageGaogamon:  “I find it insulting.”

I think I prefer the dub here? It can read in the original like Tohma is arguing that Kurata’s actions don’t make sense, when actually they do make a lot of sense if you understand his psychology. Thomas meanwhile isn’t arguing that and is simply saying it’s ironic that Kurata’s doing this, which it is. I also enjoy MirageGaogamon’s addition, which feels more like a personal opinion of his on this matter, as a Digimon himself.

Kurata:  “We’ll soon find out which of us is the real fool.”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Oh? Well, soon the both of you are going to find it harmful!”

Slightly different tone to Kurata’s response here. Instead of effectively justifying to himself “it’s not foolish, it’s totally worth it if it makes me more powerful than anyone else”, it reads more like a “shut up, if I lash out at you both then I don’t have to think about the fact that you might have a point”.

Kurata:  “Now that I’m fused with Belphemon, I’ve become the ultimate existence who has far surpassed both human and Digimon!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Now that I have all the power of Belphemon, I will be able to take over both the human and the Digital World, and nothing can stop me!”

I feel like the dub’s somewhat missing the point by having Kurata focus on his ostensible goal of taking over both worlds here. What’s really going on with him is his overwhelming fanatical desire to feel powerful and important, and subjugating both worlds is really just a means to that end, an excuse to exert that kind of power. Having him call himself the ultimate existence gets a lot more to the heart of what’s going on in his head right now.

Tohma:  (He has more power than us. Drawing this out gives us a disadvantage.)

~~~~~

Thomas:  (He has more power than all of us combined. Attacking over and over again is useless!)

Slight change to Thomas’s strategy thoughts here. On the one hand, maybe the dubbers are thinking about the fact that this fight really is going to go on for two whole episodes and wanted to change it to something that doesn’t contradict what’s going to happen… but the fight is also mostly going to involve a lot of attacking over and over, so, uh.

I spent the long dramatic lead-in to Marcus punching Thomas going “they’re gonna flash-cut it aren’t theyyyyy…” and yeah, they sure did. Sigh.

There’s a commercial break as Marcus and Thomas silently stare at each other for a long moment after the punch. It comes across weirdly like it’s building an expectation of them continuing to fight, when really they’re in the process of making up, and just doing it in a drawn-out dramatic way.

Tohma:  “They don’t shake. They don’t waver. And they don’t change.”

~~~~~

Thomas: “Nice punch. Real strong. Like our bond.”

Thomas is being a little less ridiculous and melodramatic about it than Tohma, but this does give a similar kind of feel, as well as the acknowledgement that he still considers Marcus a friend.

Tohma:  “That’s why your fists leave such an impact on the heart.”

~~~~~

Thomas: “I’m sorry, Marcus, I had to pretend so I could gain Kurata’s trust. Forgive me?”

Marcus: “Yeah.”

Don’t like that they added this, though! What I really loved about their making-up in the original was that Masaru didn’t need Tohma to explain himself in order to be satisfied. He saw Tohma fighting on their side, and that was all he needed to figure out that Tohma had really always been on their side all along. Given that, he doesn’t even care about why this happened, just so long as Tohma had never betrayed them. He got in that one punch to express his anger about the apparent betrayal, and that was all he needed to settle the score. Men don’t need words!

But of course the dub doesn’t understand any of Masaru’s ridiculously straightforward manliness and felt like this make-up was lacking without Thomas explaining things, so they added it, making Marcus and Thomas into more like normal people rather than ridiculous stubborn doofuses. I am sad.

Tohma:  “Kurata fused himself with Belphemon. He’s a tough one.”

Masaru:  “Fine by me! I’ll kick his ass!”

~~~~~

Thomas: “Kurata has fused himself with Belphemon. It looks bad.”

Marcus: “No, that’s good! Because it’s fightin’ time!”

I like the dub’s version drawing added attention to the contrast in tone between the two. This development is bad? No, it’s good, because it means they can fight Kurata!

Rosemon:  “This is considered making up?”

Yoshino:  “Men are idiots.”

This delightful little exchange from the original is completely cut out. Perhaps it’s because the dub decided to change Marcus and Thomas’s making up so that it actually does look mostly like a normal person’s idea of making up. (Hey, dub! The fact that it wasn’t a normal person’s idea of making up was literally the point, as shown here!)

But I’m not sure that’s it, because usually they’d just edit Yoshino and Rosemon’s comments to be about something else, if that were the case. I think this might have been cut because of an, uh, Issue with this episode and its Definitely A Straight Dude art style. Rosemon in this shot happened to have quite a lot of noticeable boobiness, and maybe they decided they wanted to cut that?

I’d say this is something they could edit, but unfortunately, the dub editors have already got their work cut out doing that for every single shot with Miki in it in this episode, because this art style sure did some things with her neckline. I very much appreciate the dub deciding to fix this legitimately annoying issue with the original and sympathise with all the extra work this gave their editors. Given how much of it they had to do, maybe they just didn’t have time to edit that shot of Rosemon as well and decided to cut it instead.

Kurata:  “That sort of attack won’t even leave a scratch on me. *This* is the right way to attack!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Those attacks of yours do nothing but annoy me, like a little bug. Maybe I should just squash you like one!”

On the one hand, Kurata making out his enemies to be tiny and insignificant like bugs is very in-character. On the other hand, I do lament the lack of the part where he says “This is the right way to attack!” and then literally just kicks MirageGaogamon, because Kurata actually doesn’t have the first clue how to attack without tapping into Belphemon’s instincts and yet still feels like his human-like flailing is the most powerful anyway just because of the body he’s in.

Kurata:  “What’s the matter? Do you want me to crush you lying down like that?”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Hahaha! See what I mean? Reminds me of pulling wings off of flies when I was young.”

Yeesh. That’s disturbing. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that Kurata always had that sort of cruel streak in him… and yet, as much as this is some fun extra flavour, I don’t know if I actually like this? It makes it seem more like Kurata was always bound to end up being evil, rather than that it was really his experiences on the Digital World expedition combined with his cowardice and inability to admit to being wrong that made him evil.

Masaru:  “The one who’s gonna get crushed here is you!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “So, you were always the same coward you are now!”

I really like this, though! Marcus taking the opportunity to make a point about how Kurata’s a coward, yes, good, that is exactly the point of Kurata’s character and I love that it’s being brought up here when it wasn’t in the original. This is a lot more interesting and relevant than the line Masaru had here, wow, amazing. Maybe that’s only possible because it’s less about Marcus and more about Kurata, really.

And I suppose, since Kurata definitely always was a coward, maybe that’s what the dub’s trying to get at with the pulling-wings-off-flies thing – that Kurata always had some form of that cowardice manifesting as a desire to exert power over other living things.

Masaru:  “One more try!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Thanks, dude!”

Marcus is thanking MirageGaogamon for saving him (from being flung into a building as a result of his utterly failed attempt to punch Kurata-Belphemon), which is not nearly as fun and stubborn and Masaru-ish as him immediately declaring he’s gonna try again.

This also means that Thomas telling him he can’t do this because he doesn’t have his partner wasn’t nearly as necessary, because Marcus may have learned his lesson and not been about to go again, anyway.

MirageGaogamon’s next attack plan features (in the dub only) an attack called Double Gale Claw, as opposed to the usual plain old Gale Claw. Feels weird that he’d decide to give a variant on one of his attacks a different name to the point of calling it differently, but then Digimon calling their attacks is always kind of silly in the first place, so.

Kurata:  “Let me kill you instantly and bring you peace!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Look. Why not take a rest for a while. A long while!”

Of course they couldn’t keep the part where Kurata straight-up says he’s going to kill MirageGaogamon, and instead it becomes some very vague implication of the same.

Kurata:  “Why don’t you understand that no matter how large your numbers, the end result will be the same?”

~~~~~

Kurata: “When will you finally understand? You can’t win!”

Kurata’s dub line here is simpler and somewhat misses the point that he’s so up himself that he’s convinced that even when he’s outnumbered he’s obviously going to win. But that’s actually lip-flap’s fault; despite the wordiness of Kurata’s original line, Belphemon’s mouth doesn’t move nearly as much as it should during it, resulting in a much shorter line when the dub religiously endeavoured to match the lip-flap like they always do.

Kurata:  “Magnificent! This power and this body! That’s right. I am the ultimate existence that has exceeded both human and Digimon!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Such fun! I’m so strong! Yes… my power has exceeded both Digimon and humans.”

This is the second time in this episode that original-Kurata gives this “ultimate existence” line, which maybe explains why the dub felt the need to change the earlier instance of it to something else. But their take on it here is… lukewarm. “I’m so strong” is a pretty basic way for him to express that sentiment, and he’s not quite calling himself the ultimate existence. It sounds a lot less like he’s revelling in this as much as he does in the original. It’s there in his delivery, too; I didn’t feel like his last sentence there deserved an exclamation mark.

Masaru:  “You guys…”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Don’t quit!”

Masaru’s expressing worry about his friends getting hurt and overwhelmed, which is a different tone from Marcus just firmly telling them not to stop fighting.

Kurata:  “It’s because you oppose me that vermin like yourselves end up like this!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Had I realised it was this entertaining, I would have fused with a Digimon years ago!”

I suppose Kurata’s dub line sort of gets across a relevant point that he’s finding being Belphemon entertaining, what with all the power he can exert. I doubt he would have found it so entertaining years ago when he didn’t have such a huge god complex and his fear of Digimon was a lot closer to the surface, but then, it’s also fair he wouldn’t consciously realise that in his state.

But I think I preferred the original line’s completely different point of showing that Kurata’s so wrapped up in his power trip by now that he’s not even really thinking of Digimon as “vermin” for the same reasons he did in the first place any more. They’re vermin now because they’re stupid enough to think he might not be all-powerful, not because they’re vicious and scary, nope, they definitely don’t scare him at all.

Ikuto:  “Don’t… kill any more of my friends!”

~~~~~

Keenan: “Kurata! Leave friends alone!”

Sighhh, I guess that’s as close as we can get to getting across the point of his original line since we’re not allowed to use the word “kill”. I really liked how horribly direct Ikuto was about it in the original, though. This is also less of a response to what Kurata was saying in the dub, since he wasn’t just calling Ikuto’s friends “vermin”.

Kurata:  “You think Digimon are your friends?” [he laughs] “Vermin as friends… What a ridiculous notion!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “You really think Digimon are your friends? Ha! They are nothing but vermin! They don’t need friends, they need exterminators!”

Okay, well at least now the dub’s caught up with the vermin line, but – it sounds like Kurata still only thinks of them as vermin in the sense that they’re dangerous and need exterminating, not that they’re insignificant and pathetic and stupid to try and defy him.

Kurata:  “As you are well aware, all of the Digimon I’ve killed, those friends of yours, have provided the energy to revive this Belphemon. In other words, they were the provisions that helped grant my ambitions!

~~~~~

Kurata: “And I would know, since I’ve exterminated so many Digimon. Of course, no-one can accuse me of not recycling, since I did use their digital energy to awaken Belphemon. So I guess I owe them some thanks for allowing me to cause so much destruction!”

This is basically the same content getting across, but the way Kurata words it in the dub is a lot more casual and cartoony. Like, I really don’t think now is the time to make a joke about recycling, guys – nor does it feel entirely like he’d ever think he ought to thank them. This speech should be making you despise Kurata for his awfulness even more than you already do, and I feel like the dub’s watered that effect down a bit.

Kurata:  “Their existence alone is worthless, and I have given that existence an important duty! I find no reason for you to hate me. Instead, you should be thanking me!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Then again, they should probably thank *me*, for putting an end to their miserable existence. Just useless bits of data without feelings or signs of life.”

The fact that he only thinks they should be grateful for him killing them, and not putting them to use, is missing the point a bit, as is him continuing to argue that they’re totally not really people. Kurata’s way past all that stuff by now; at this point, the only thing he cares about is how great and all-powerful he totally is, and literally everything, including his view of the Digimon he’s killed, now revolves around making himself seem more important. The dub doesn’t seem to understand that. It’s a shame, when they’ve otherwise been so good at grasping Kurata’s psychology until now.

Yoshino:  “That’s completely selfish of you!”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “What do you know about life? You’re the most heartless man I know!”

Yoshi’s rebuke to his speech gets changed, since the point of his speech was different and somewhat less about how ridiculously self-absorbed he’s become.

Ikuto:  “You…! You know nothing!

~~~~~

Keenan: “She right! You don’t know anything, Kurata!”

It is a little bit of a shame that Keenan’s only coming forward with this idea that Kurata knows nothing because Yoshi already suggested something in that direction. I liked how in the original that concept was something Ikuto thought of and brought up entirely on his own.

Keenan: “Digimon live! They same as us!”

This is basically unchanged, but because Kurata’s speech was different, it’s more of an actual rebuttal to what Kurata was saying than it was in the original. Maybe that’s why the writers changed Kurata’s speech, but if so I don’t think they should have, because I feel that disconnect was on purpose. I liked that sense this scene had in the original that Kurata and Ikuto were really having two entirely separate conversations at each other, because neither of them was ever going to listen to and understand the other’s point of view.

Ikuto:  “I know! Yukidarumon… She had a heart… a bigger heart than anybody else!”

~~~~~

Keenan: “That right! They just like humon! They have big hearts and feel love!”

Other than Keenan not mentioning Frigimon quite as soon as Ikuto did, it reads a little off to me that he begins this passionate speech about Digimon having hearts by framing it as “just like humans”. Keenan’s first experience of people who are kind and have hearts was with Digimon. He spent years thinking humans were heartless monsters and has only recently learned that’s not the case – he wouldn’t bring up humans as his initial example of creatures that have hearts.

Ikuto:  “She raised me, even though I was human! She scolded me! She was gentle to me! She was very, very warm!”

~~~~~

Keenan:  “I know for fact! Frigimon had bigger heart than anyone! She raised me even though I was humon. She keep me safe, and she loved me. She was my mother, and me her son.”

Aww, this is still cute. I like that they kept the “even though”, and that they removed the scolding part (though the image of her doing so is still there), because that’s not the best example of her parenthood. Slightly sad at the loss of “she was very warm”, because as silly as that is on a literal level I feel like that helps get across just how warm she was despite being made of snow – but, the replacement lines are also very sweet. She was his mother.

Ikuto:  “I… pity you!”

~~~~~

Keenan: “They good. They friends…”

Really don’t like that they got rid of this! I loved how Ikuto had become capable of seeing just how pathetic Kurata really is, and that he’d moved on from hating Kurata and being so desperate for revenge. For such a short line, it said a lot about Ikuto’s character development, and that’s not there for Keenan.

Kurata:  “A human who can achieve vast accomplishments for himself is the most excellent of life forms!”

~~~~~

Kurata:  “Do you think a Digimon could achieve this on its own? Of course not! Only a human could accomplish something this advanced and superior.”

I think the dub’s somewhat missing Kurata’s point here. He’s not using his scientific accomplishments to argue that humans are better than Digimon because Digimon don’t do science. He’s using his scientific accomplishments to argue that he is the greatest most important person ever. Though he brings up himself being human among that, it’s largely incidental; it’s not really about these two species to him any more so much as it’s about him versus literally everyone else in both worlds.

Keenan:  “We are all same! We friends! […] Are humons best? Are Digimon best? No!”

This part’s basically the same, and again, I think the dubbers may have changed the point of Kurata’s speech so that Keenan can be more directly responding to his argument. I still don’t think they should have.

Digimon Analyser Ravemon: “Ahh, it feels good to spread my Mega-level wings!”

Ravemon does his own analyser, and he’s being very pompous about it. It also sounds oddly like he’s been Ravemon before and has missed it? Which definitely should not actually be a thing.

Digimon Analyser Ravemon: “I’ve got more attacks than all my other levels combined!”

He’s got more different attacks than any of the others had each, I think, but I don’t know if it’s more than all three of his other levels together? Weird that he’d make a point of saying this either way.

Masaru:  “Great job, Ikuto! You’re the man!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Who is the man?! Keenan!”

Wow, they actually kept a manliness line for once, it’s a miracle. (And of course it’s on one of the least interesting uses of the concept.)

Kurata:  “You can’t win against my current form…” [Ravemon attacks him; he staggers a little as he blocks] “Wh-What is this power?”

~~~~~

Kurata: “You can’t beat me either!” [Ravemon attacks him; he staggers a little as he blocks] “No matter how much you Digivolve!”

In the original, Kurata notices and is shocked by Ravemon’s greater power as soon as he blocks one attack from him, but in the dub he’s still trash-talking him the whole time like this is no different from the others.

Ikuto:  “You don’t know!”

Ikuto & Ravemon: “This is…!”

Ravemon:  “The power that comes from cherishing our friends!”

~~~~~

Keenan: “Digimon…!”

Keenan & Ravemon:  “…have hearts!”

Ravemon: “And now you’ll see the power of friendship!”

This time, Keenan’s not directly responding to Kurata’s words where he was responding to him in the original. He and Ravemon make basically the same point here as in the original, but it comes off as cheesier. It really is, to get technical, precisely the power of not just friendship itself but of cherishing one’s friends, because that’s an emotion that powers Digisoul. Knowing that, the original line isn’t actually as cheesy as it sounds on the surface.

This whole part does come off as more triumphant than it did in the original, because it’s getting the Ultimate evolution music, whereas in the original, they didn’t use Believer for this and just had some of there generic ominous fight scene BGM.

The wound on Belphemon’s face opening wider upon Ravemon’s second strike there is edited out, so it looks distinctly less like he’s actually succeeded in injuring him. There wasn’t even any blood (Digimon don’t bleed), but I guess the censors didn’t like it anyway.

Kurata:  “How can a mere insect have such power…?!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “Where is this power coming from…?!”

Sad at the lack of Kurata insisting he’s an insect and therefore obviously shouldn’t have enough power to hurt him.

Ikuto:  “Now, change our feelings into power!”

Ravemon:  “And unleash all of it!”

~~~~~

Keenan: “Now, you’ll see power!”

Ravemon: “The kind of power that can only come from friendship!”

Ikuto’s line in the original got to the point of Digisoul: feelings are power. The dub’s just doing more cheesy power of friendship stuff. I’m not sure the dubbers remember that emotions literally are power in this universe and that’s how DNA Charge works  - but then again, in the dub, the DNA Charge emotions are apparently literally the seven deadly sins, so, you know.

One of Ravemon’s Japanese attack names, which needed a subbers’ note to explain that it’s the name of a certain sword from Shinto mythology, gets changed to Celestial Blade in English, which, yeah, still roughly the point.

Kurata: “Unforgivablllll—nnrrrrghhhhhh!!!”

~~~~~

Kurata: “You will pay!”

The original line I’m quoting here was not how it was subbed, but is instead my attempt at getting across how Kurata’s voice devolved into furious incoherent growling by the end of it, which continues over his borrowed body’s muscles bulging and the chains breaking as the real Belphemon breaks through. In the dub, he just says that line and then is silent as the change takes place. Because of that, it comes across less like the switch is happening because of how angry he is, compared to how it seemed in the original. Instead, it just feels like Belphemon happened to break through now for no particular reason, or even perhaps that Kurata consciously called him to do so (which he definitely would never do).

Tohma:  “He’s powering up!”

~~~~~

Thomas:  “I think he’s Digivolving!”

He’s really not Digivolving, Thomas. He’s already (super-)Mega level; he literally can’t evolve any higher than this. Surely you know that.

Masaru:  “You idiot! Why’d you do that?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Dumb kid, what are you doin’ trying to protect *me*?”

I do kind of like Marcus’s implication of “I’m not supposed to need protecting”. Keenan’s younger than him, he’s supposed to protect Keenan if anything. It’s definitely not like Marcus is currently in a completely vulnerable state of not having his own Digimon partner and actually does need someone looking out for him.

Belphemon:  “I am not… Kurata…!”

~~~~~

Belphemon: “You wretched fool! How dare you compare me to a lowly human! I am not Kurata!”

The slow and growly way Belphemon said this in the original gave the dub a lot of extra lip-flap here, and they used it to give him some serious disdain for being compared to humans, which fits. Though I also imagine he’s extra pissed at being compared to (and forced to share a body with) someone like Kurata in particular.

Masaru:  “What?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “He’s not?!”

Masaru’s response is an expression of surprise at the fact that they’ve switched, but Marcus’s more specific wording makes it sound like he’s surprised at the very notion that someone other than Kurata was even in there at all. Come on, dude, could you not figure out that Belphemon is his own person and was being controlled until now.

Belphemon:  “I am the Demon Lord… Belphemon!”

~~~~~

Belphemon:  “I am the deadly Digimon, Belphemon, and you shall feel my wraaaaath!”

Okay, Belphemon, but aren’t you actually the Demon Lord of Sloth, not Wrath? Or, well, apparently he’s not a Demon Lord in the dub at all, since they removed him saying that. The reason for them doing so is likely less because it’s irrelevant and more for religious censorship, though, since back in episode 36 they removed the term “Demon Lord” but kept the mention that he had six others like him, so he probably still is supposed to represent Sloth in the dub’s canon.

(Him calling himself “deadly” is surprisingly death-acknowledging for the dub’s standards. Maybe it’s supposed to be a reference to the deadly sins? Not that the dub ever called them that while mentioning them.)

Masaru:  “Then, it can’t be…!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “But… Is Kurata still in there?”

Marcus sounds weirdly like he’s worried for Kurata, which doesn’t seem right. On the one hand I can get that he wants to be able to take down Kurata in particular, but on the other hand this is still an enemy that needs defeating either way, and if Kurata isn’t still in there any more then good, he’s dealt with. I don’t feel like Marcus would care that much in the heat of the moment that he didn’t get to be the one to do it.

(Masaru here seemed to be simply worried about the implications of Belphemon taking over, in that he’d attack more indiscriminately than Kurata would.)

Tohma:  “As long as Belphemon’s instincts are in command, he’ll start attacking without discrimination!”

~~~~~

Thomas: “However, he’s no longer in control of Belphemon, whose true instincts have come out. All he cares about is destruction.”

Don’t think Thomas quite gets to the point here. All Kurata really cared about by now was destruction, too, when you put it that way. The difference was that Kurata’s hang-ups and desire for gloating meant that it was possible to get him to stop and give speeches at them from time to time, but Belphemon doesn’t care about any of that and really will just attack nonstop, indiscriminately, making him a more dangerous foe.

Sayuri:  “Agu-chan loves Masaru just as much as Masaru loves him.”

~~~~~

Sarah: “Agumon loves Marcus with all his heart… and whether he admits it or not, Marcus loves Agumon just as much.”

Mixed feelings about adding the bit where Marcus doesn’t admit he loves Agumon. Yeah, he doesn’t, but also, Agumon has never directly admitted he loves Marcus either, and yet he doesn’t get that qualifying clause. They both still show that they love each other plenty, which should be enough. Feels a bit like a Marcus Is A Jerk thing.

The BGM as Marcus helplessly watches his friends get beaten up by Belphemon is a more melancholy sort of thing in the dub, which I like for this moment better than the generic tense fight music in the original.

Masaru:  “Look, Agumon. Everyone’s worn out, but they’re still fighting for dear life! And yet, we’re the only ones who can’t join them!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Look, Agumon. Everyone’s tired, but they’re still fighting! We’re the only ones left that can do anything now.”

That’s… literally the opposite of the point in the original? He’s not supposed to be saying that he’s the only one who can help because everyone else is exhausted; he’s saying everyone else is nonetheless still fighting and he’s the only one who can’t, which is unacceptable.

Masaru:  “As a man, this is a disgrace!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “I’ve never felt so useless!”

This is a decent substitute for the manliness – it hits hard to have Marcus actually admit how useless he feels – but it’s dampened by coming right after that previous line in which he was acting like he could do something right now. The whole point is that he can’t!

Masaru:  “Agumon! I want to fight with you!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Agumon! I can’t do this alone, I need you!”

Pros to each here. I do like Marcus admitting that he needs Agumon and can’t do this alone (episode 6 callbacks!), but I also like how Masaru really clings to that phrase “I want to fight with you”, because he just loves fighting alongside his best friend and would always miss it so much whether they had such an important fight they needed to join right now or not.

The flashback shot of them dorking about in the shower is cut, presumably for anti-fanservice reasons. That’s fair enough I guess, but it was a cute shot regardless – it fits in with the bathroom shenanigans they’ve had before! – and I’d have loved for them to edit in more bubbles or something (there were already quite a lot of Convenient Bubbles) in order to be able to keep it. Perhaps they didn’t have time because the editors’ work was already cut out editing Miki’s neckline in this episode, sigh.

Masaru:  “I want to fight! With you! Don’t you feel the same?! Agumon!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “It’s fightin’ time. Come on, Agumon… Can’t you feel it inside that lousy Digiegg…?”

I liked the way Masaru kept repeating that “I want to fight with you” in the original, but I do also like this. Marcus’s voice becomes all desperate and vulnerable and really sounding like he’s crying towards the end (to match his shoulders shaking, because he totally is), and it tugged at my heart.

ohhhh those really are some good crying sounds, which Masaru does not have in the original, yes I approve

The muffled sounds as Koromon noms onto Marcus’s face sound less like generic face-nomming sound effects and more like he’s trying to say something even though his mouth is full of face. Weird effect; surely he’d know well enough to wait until his mouth’s free before talking.

…Or, wait, no, I guess it’s Marcus’s muffled voice actually, probably protesting at suddenly being inside someone’s mouth. Though I think I still prefer the long awkward silent pause in the original, as if Masaru was just extremely bewildered to have Agumon hatch again and then suddenly NOM.

I think I prefer Marcus’s VA’s crying to Masaru’s; Masaru’s sobs sound weirdly choked (not that that couldn’t be how he might sound when upset), but Marcus just sounds so vulnerable and I want to give him a hug.

Koromon:  “Aniki… Are you crying?”

Masaru:  “No, you idiot! That’s just sweat dripping from my heart!”

~~~~~

Koromon: “Hey, Boss! You cryin’?”

Marcus:  “No way! That’s just sweat; it’s hot out here!”

Boo. I am sad about this change. What I loved about the original line was that Masaru’s claim was so utterly ridiculous that there was no way Koromon was actually going to buy that he wasn’t crying; he was just framing the fact that he was crying in the most doofily manly way. But Marcus’s claim makes some amount of sense, so he really is trying to convince Koromon that he wasn’t crying at all. Which is less fun.

Koromon: “Fightin’ time?”

Marcus: “Mm-hmm!”

Awww, that’s cute. Tiny Koromon will fight all the times.

BanchouLeomon:  (A pure Digisoul cannot be born from a fist of hatred.)

~~~~~

BanchoLeomon:  (Real power is in your heart, and backed by an unwavering courage.)

In the original, this was BanchouLeomon reiterating something he’d said to Masaru in episode 35 re: the whole hatred-fuelled rampage, essentially highlighting that Masaru’s learned and moved past that now. In the dub, BanchoLeomon was too busy utterly roasting Marcus to give any similar advice at that point in episode 35, so instead this is completely new, and… kind of generic. It certainly doesn’t seem to be alluding back to the rampage in any way.

(Okay, wait, no, it’s not entirely new; it’s actually very close to something BanchoLeomon said in episode 29 instead. Kinda random to pick a quote from there (it’s not even from a particularly memorable moment in that episode), and it’s still not especially relevant to anything right now.)

Masaru:  “After we beat Kurata, we’ll stuff our faces with good food!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “After we beat Kurata, we’ll get some breakfast!”

Breakfast specifically, even though Marcus at least has been awake all this time? Though I suppose it is night time right now, and Agumon at least has only just, ah, “woken up”.

Masaru:  “Here we go, Kurata!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “It’s fightin’ time again! Hyaaaargh!”

Loses the interesting implications of how Masaru still wanted to frame this as him fighting Kurata, even though he’s not at this point. But then again, it’s definitely gotta be fightin’ time, so.

Overall differences

Since this is mostly a big fighty episode, there’s not too much for the dub to mess up. Still, there’s a bunch of subtle changes to the character moments here that I’m sad about.

Marcus and Thomas’s making up is turned into much more of an interaction between normal people who need to explain things with words, boo. A lot of what I loved about that moment with Masaru and Tohma was how Masaru was so straightforward that he didn’t need an explanation, and how Tohma knew that all he needed was to deliver that punch. Also, unlike with Yoshino, there’s no implication that Yoshi knew the betrayal was fake all along, which is a shame.

Though the dub’s been genuinely pretty great about Kurata up until this point, they’re dropping the ball on his characterisation at the final hurdle. They don’t seem to understand that his desire to rule both worlds isn’t really about ruling the worlds so much as it’s just an excuse to exert power and prove that he’s the greatest strongest ever. As part of that, he’s no longer even supposed to care about eradicating Digimon because they’re dangerous; he now just thinks they’re worthless because they’re weaker than him. But dub-Kurata still feels like the same Kurata from before this Belphemon arc, which isn’t quite right any more.

A lot of the edits to Kurata’s lines also seem to be made so that he and Keenan can be more directly arguing with each other, because it seems the dub didn’t realise that the two of them talking past each other and being incapable of engaging with the other’s point of view was the point of the original exchange.

Keenan’s side of it is pretty similar, but one key difference is that he doesn’t ever mention that he pities Kurata like Ikuto did, which was a huge sign of Ikuto’s growth away from wanting revenge. Apparently Keenan hasn’t changed in that way, or at least it’s not as noticeable. The lines with him and Ravemon are also a bit generically about the power of friendship, instead of touching on the more tangibly-true point that this is about the strength of their emotions.

The hatching scene is mostly pretty good and very cute and Marcus’s voice acting is excellent. But I cannot help but be sad that we lose the wonderfully dorky “sweat dripping from my heart” line, replaced with something that sounds like Marcus is actually trying to convince Koromon he’s not crying, bah.

[celiabowens]

Book recommendations, Literary Fiction edition(?)

A companion to this post (which should be updated, at some point lol)

Short Story Collections: 

Salt Slow by Julia Armfield: grotesque and disquieting collection about women and their experience in society, how they view and perceive their own body and desires. Pretty strong mythic, magical realism, body horror elements in here.

The Man Who Mistook his Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales by Oliver Sacks: fascinating collection in which Sacks reminishes some particularly odd stories of patients who had to cope with bizarre neurological disorders.

Home Remedies by Xuan Juliana Wang: a collection focused on the Chinese millennial experience. Stories about love and loss, family, immigration and the uncertainty of the future. (also there’s an extremely beautiful short story about a pair of Chinese divers that broke me forever!!!)

Bestiary: The Selected Stories by Julio Cortázar: unforgettable selection of short stories that mix surreal elements to everyday life and apparently ordinary events. Would also recommend All Fires the Fire by the same author.

Novels:

How Much of These Hills is Gold by C. Pam Zhang: one of the biggest debuts of 2020, it follows two recently orphaned children through the gold rush era. An adventurous historical fiction piece that focuses on themes like gender, identity and immigration, this is one of my favorites 2020 reads so yeah, I’d really push it in anyone’s hands to be honest.

Burial Rites by Hannah Kent: historical fiction inspired by the last days of a young woman accused of murder in Iceland in the 1820s. A quite bleak, but beautiful novel (the prose is stunning).

The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave: historical fiction novel set in Norway in the 17th century, following the lives of a group of women in a village that recently (barely) survived a storm that killed all of the island’s men. 

The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead: the 2020 winner of the Pulitzer Prize. The book follows the lives of two boys sentenced to a reform school in Jim Crow-era Florida. A bleak, but important book, with a shocking final twist (side note, I’ve been recommended The Underground Railroad by Whitehead as well, but I haven’t gotten to it yet. If you’re looking for something quite peculiar, if a bit less refined when compared to The Nickel Boys, The Intuitionist is a quite odd pulpy noir set in an alternate NY about...elevator inspectors *and racism*). 

The Leavers by Lisa Ko: haunting book about identity and immigration as the main character is apparently abandoned by his own mother (an undocumented Chinese immigrant) during his childhood. Mainly a story about living in between places and constantly feeling out of place. 

The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa: when everyone would probably recommend Murakami (not much against Murakami besides his descriptions of women and their boobs), I suggest checking out some of Ogawa’s books. The recently translated The Memory Police, published in Japan in the mid 90s, is an orwellian dystopian novel set on an unnamed Island where memories slowly disappear. Would also really recommend The Housekeeper and The Professor, a really short novel about a housekeeper hired to clean and cook for a math professor who suffered an injury that causes him to remember new things for only 80 minutes. 

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong: Ocean Vuong’s debut novel, following a son writing a letter to his illiterate mother. The book seems quite polarising due to Vuong’s writing style (his poetry background is really quite clear and the book doesn’t really follow a regular narrative, rather than portrays events and memories in brief flashes), but I loved it and I’d really just recommend going into it without knowing much? It’s a beautiful exploration of language, family history, trauma, sexuality and more.

Exist West by Mohsin Hamid: this book was fairly popular when it came out (in 2017 I believe) and was often incorrectly marketed as magical realism. Hamid’s book is a brief and quietly brutal journey with a few fantastical elements, following a couple trying to escape their city in the middle of war, as they hear about peculiar doors that can whisk people far away. The doors are, of course, a quite effective metaphor for the immigrant experience and the book does a great job at portraying the main characters’ relationship. 

Family Trust by Kathy Wang: this has a really low rating on goodreads which...wow i hate that. Family Trust is a literary family saga/drama about a Chinese-American family residing in the Silicon Valley. It’s often been compared to Crazy Rich Asians, but I believe it to be more on the literary side and definitely less lighthearted. 

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee: historical family saga (one of my favorites tbh, I’m absolutely biased, but this book deserved more hype) set in Korea and Japan throughout the 20th century, following four generations of a Korean family. While I wasn’t the biggest fan of the prose, the book has really great characterisation and absolutely fascinating characters. (I’d suggest checking out eventual TW first, in this case). 

The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker: another recent read, The Silence of the Girls, while not faultless, is a pretty good retelling of The Iliad, narrated through Briseis’ perspective. The prose can feel a bit too modern at times, but it provides the reader with some really strong quotes and descriptions. 

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng: and also Little Fires Everywhere by the same author, to be honest. If you’re looking for really really good family dramas, with great explorations of rather complex and nuanced relationships? You should just check out her stuff. Vibrant characters, good writing, and some superb portrayal of longing here. 

Nutshell by Ian McEwan: i’m starting with this one only to grab your attention (if you’ve even reached this part lol, congrats), but McEwan’s one of my favorite authors and I’d recommend almost everything I’ve read by him? Nutshell, specifically, is a really odd and fun retelling of Hamlet...told from the pov of an unborn baby. But really, I’d also recommend Atonement (of course), The Children Act, Amsterdam? All good stuff. 

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles: I’ve read this book this summer and, while I’m still unsatisfied with the ending, I’d thoroughly recommend this? The novel follows Count Alexander Rostov, who, in 1922, is sentenced to a lifetime of house arrest in the Metropol, a luxurious hotel in the center of Moscow. A singular novel, funny and heartbreaking at once, following a vibrant cast of characters as they come and go from Rostov’s secluded life. 

Human Acts by Han Kang: from the bestselling author of The Vegetarian (which honestly, I thoroughly despised lol), Human Acts focuses on the South Korean Gwangju uprising. It’s a really odd (and at times grotesque) experimental novel (one chapter is narrated from the pov of one of the bodies if I remember correctly), so one really has to be in the mood for it, but it’s a really unique experience, worth a chance.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon: sort of a really chunky historical adventure novel following two artists in 1940s/1950s NY, who create a superhero and use him to wage a one man war on the Nazis. A bit slow in places (the pace can be uneven at times and the book is quite long), but an enjoyable novel that does a pretty good job when it comes to exploring rather classic themes of American contemporary fiction: the American dream and the figure of the artist (I think there’s a particularly interesting focus on how the artists navigates the corporate world and its rules) and their creative process.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel: this is a pretty classic rec, the book really got a lot of hype when it came out? It’s a dystopian-ish novel set after civilisation’s collapse, following a post-apocalyptic troupe (of Shakespearean actors). It’s a really odd, but surprisingly quiet book. Not sure if a pandemic is exactly the right time to read it, but I thoroughly recommend it. 

The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng: I feel like this book is extremely complex to summarise to be honest. In short, it’s a book set in Malaya at the end of the 1940s, following a woman who, after surviving Japanese wartime camps, spends her life prosecuting war criminals. But truthfully this book is about conflicts and contradictions and in particular about remembering and forgetting. Lovely prose. 

The Secret History by Donna Tartt: and also The Goldfinch. I’m sure no one really needs me to introduce Donna Tartt?

The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton: quite cerebral mystery set in New Zealand in 1866. Honestly you have to be a patient reader who enjoys novels with a pretty complex structure to like this, but if you’re into this sort of challenging read...go for it? It’s a book of interlocking stories (with 10+ pov and main characters) with a really fascinating structure based on astrological charts, which provide insight to the main characters’ traits and personality as the mystery unfolds.

The Hours by Michael Cunningham: ok...do not watch the movie first. The Hours is an incredibly difficult novel to describe to be honest: it begins by recalling the last moments of Virginia Woolf’s life, as she’s writing Mrs. Dalloway. The book focuses on three separate narratives, each one following a specific character throughout a single day of their own life. Goes without saying that I’d suggest being familiar with Mrs. Dalloway itself first though.

An Artists of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro: not one of Ishiguro’s most famous works (most start reading his work with Never Let Me Go or The Remains of the Day), but probably my favorite out of those I’ve read so far. The novel follows  Masuji Ono, an artist who put his work in service of imperialist propaganda throughout WWII. Basically a reflection and an account of the artist’s life as he deals with the culpability of his previous actions. 

Stoner by John Williams: I feel like this is an odd book to recommend, because I don’t think someone can truly get the hype unless they read it themselves. Stoner is a pretty straight-forward book, following the ordinary life of an even more ordinary man. And yet it’s so compelling and never dull in its exploration of the characters’ lives and personalities. Also, I’ve just finished Augustus by the same author, which is an epistolary historical fiction novel narrating some of the main events of Augustus’ reign through letters from/by his closest friends and enemies. Really liked it. 

Do Not Say We Have Nothing by Madeleine Thien: back to integenerational family sagas (because I love those, in case it wasn’t clear lol), Do Not Say We Have Nothing follows a young woman who suddenly rediscovers her family’s fractured past. The novel focuses on two successive generations of a Chinese family through China’s 20th century history. While not every character got the type of development they deserved, the author does a good job when it comes to gradually recreating the family’s complex and nuanced history. 

There’s probably more but I doubt anyone’s going to reach the end or anything so. There’s that lol.

[echoghost1]

Recreational Botany

Word Count: 3384 For: @lexosaurus

Read on AO3 and I’m only posting a snippet here because formatting on this site is just too much right now.

Summary:  It wasn't her fault. She was merely curious, had only wanted to help. She didn't mean for this to happen. She just hoped it would wear off soon.

Edit: I added the rest of the fic here! Edit: I added a summary too!

Sam had been interested in the occult and had a greenhouse. She was honestly surprised at herself for not looking into ghost plants sooner.

When they found out about Blood Blossoms, and was that the weirdest day of her life, she knew she had to know more. At first, it was just so they wouldn't be caught so unaware next time. She also needed to make sure that they really were extinct so Danny wouldn't get hurt like that again.

But then she wondered if there were other plants. Maybe there was something a little less painful, maybe even helpful.

Eventually, she found something that sounded promising. She ordered the seeds and made a space in the back of her greenhouse, as far from the entrance as she could get.

Several months, and many ghost fights later, the plant was finally ready. She trimmed a few of the small buds and placed them in a little brown bag for safekeeping.

Now she just had to figure out how to test it.

======================================================

The trio was hanging out in Sam's basement bored out of their minds because there hadn't been any ghost activity that day and they couldn't decide what to do instead.

"Man we really need to get another hobby if we're bored without ghosts," Danny said as he stared at the ceiling while he lounged on his favorite bean bag.

"Speak for yourself dude," Tucker teased, "I have plenty of hobbies."

Danny sat up and cocked a brow, "owning multiple outdated PDAs does not count as multiple hobbies."

Tucker gasped in faux shock, "Outdated? Moi? Why I never!"

"Speaking of hobbies," Sam segued before the boys could devolve into the pillow fight they were all ready to start. "I found a new plant recently and I guess since nothing else is going on we could try it out?" She suggested as she went to fetch the bag from its hiding place.

She was glad her parents hadn't noticed the false bottom in the drawer in the end table. She slipped her finger into the small notch and lifted it to reveal the spare first aid kit along with what she had come in there for.

"I was doing some research a while back and found this plant is supposed to work on ghosts," she started as she placed the little bag on the table.

Danny, who had been scooting his bean bag closer to the coffee table between them, stopped short.

“I only have a little bit here and if it bothers you we can stop right away,” she reassured.

“What’s it supposed to do?” Tucker asked and Danny nodded along, also curious.

“Well I’m not one hundred percent sure because I had to translate the book I was reading,” she started but was interrupted by Tucker, of course.

“That seems risky.”

“That’s why I only grabbed a little bit! Anyway,” she dumped the bag out onto the table, “I guess let’s just see if anything happens.”

Danny hesitantly reached out for the plant then quickly poked it as if it was a live wire. Which with his luck was probably something that could happen.

It didn’t start smoking or sparking so Danny picked up a piece to exam it closer, “Well it’s not hurting me so that’s a plus.”

“Is it doing anything at all?” Tucker asked suddenly skeptical that anything would happen.

Danny shrugged and sniffed the bit of plant between his fingers, “smells nice.”

“It’s not ‘I want to give up my free will’ nice, is it?”

Danny quickly looked up to Sam, “What? No! Why would you ask that?”

She shrugged, was it really out of the realm of possibilities?

“Maybe we should make a little ring of them and see if that does anything?” Tucker suggested.

No one could think of a reason not to so they gathered up the little bits of plant and maybe a ring that Danny could step into. She didn’t want to lose it in the carpet so they just made it on the table. Danny stepped into the ring.

And was still unaffected.

“Maybe this one is a bust after all.” Tucker shrugged.

Danny scooped up the plant buds back into the bag, “or maybe it needs to be the whole thing?” he countered to which Sam was grateful that he was on her side for this.

He rolled a single bud between his fingertips with a contemplative look on his face.

Before she could ask what he was thinking he popped it into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

“What are you doing?!” both Sam and Tucker asked with a healthy mix of shock and dismay.

“What?” he asked as if what he did wasn’t totally bizarre.

“What if that was poisonous?”

He hummed to himself, “I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Then what were you thinking, man?”

“Were you even thinking?”

“I just wanted to know if it tasted the same as it smelt. I don’t know why you guys are making such a big deal about it,” he said before dropping back into the bean bag chair.

Tucker just laughed it off, “So what’s the consensus?”

But Danny didn’t answer right away. He was slowly running his hand back and forth against the carpet. Almost like he was in a trance.

“Danny?” Sam asked cautiously really hoping she didn’t just kill him. Again.

He looked up at the sound of his name but his eyes looked a little unfocused. “Yeah?”

“What did it taste like?” Tucker asked again, slowly, and just as worried as Sam felt.

“Like pomegranates. Which is weird because it didn’t smell like that.” his attention went back to the floor, “has your carpet always felt this nice?” he asked slowly rubbing both hands back and forth across the fibers.

Sam and Tucker just looked at each other but neither seemed to know what to make of that.

“You feeling alright?” Sam ventured.

He nodded, “Feel fine. Actually, “ he looked back up to them as a dazed grin slowly spread across his face, “I feel great.”

Tucker looked from Danny’s near delirious face, to the bag on the table, then back to Danny before he suppressed a snicker.

Sam glared at him, “What could possibly be so funny right now?”

“Is that a weed?” Tucker asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Part of her wanted to ask why he asked that, another part wanted to know why he asked with such bad grammar, and that’s when she realized what he was saying.

“Did you just quote a Vine at me?!”

Danny immediately busted up laughing. He always enjoyed a well-placed meme but he was enjoying this a little too much.

“The site said it was supposed to calm a ghost’s energies. I just thought it would make him sleepy or it would make a good painkiller.”

Tucker busted up laughing as well. “Hey Danny, what’s the vibe?”

“Chill dude! It’s so chill. We straight vibin’.” he said while attempting to make snow angels in the carpet.

Sam put her head in her hands. She did not want this. She could not have her parents come down here and see him like this. If Tucker thought he seemed high there’s no way her parents wouldn’t make that assumption too.

Then again. She dared to peak at her potentially intoxicated friend.

He was currently trying to take his shirt off by just pulling himself around the floor by his heels as his back dragged along the ground.

Oh no. He was high, wasn’t he?

“Dude, do you need help?” Tucker offered, still giggling.

Danny nodded with the dopiest grin before sitting up.

“You want that off?” Tucker asked and received the most eager nod in return. “Okay arms up,” he said as if he was directing a small child and not, in fact, a fellow teenager.

As the hem of Danny’s shirt made its way up his torso Sam’s brain finally caught up with what was happening. “What are you doing?” Sam sputtered suddenly feeling very warm.

“I don’t wanna wear that anymore. Doesn't feel nice.” Danny said with the same dorky smile.

Except now he was topless.

Danny wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Danny.

No shirt.

She’d never seen him without a shirt before.

She had hoped, thought when they first went to the waterpark last summer that she would. But he wore a tank top the whole time.

He said he sunburned easily.

But then why didn’t he wear a shirt with sleeves? Because shoulders can get sunburns. That’s normally where you would get them if you’re standing out in the sun all day.

She just assumed he was shy.

Yet here he was.

Topless.

Right in front of her.

In her house.

Why?!

Tucker was apparently not at all alarmed by this state of undress.

Then again they did have gym together so they would be changing together and-

DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT!!

“Room!” she blurted out with such force the boys were startled into paying attention to her, “We need to go to my room.”

Danny was agreeable enough and got himself off the floor. But the way he did it was more like how a toddler would. Butt first, then into a wobbly standing position.

Sam just sped walk to the stairs and ignored the stupid smug look on Tucker’s face.

======================================================

Once they were safely locked in her room Sam pulled out her laptop and tried to find the stupid site where she had gotten her terrible translation for that awful plant.

Or maybe some sort of remedy on how to get him un-high. Sober?

Tucker was sitting in her gamer chair casually turning the seat from side to side while Danny had claimed the bed. He had all of her pillows shoved into the headboard and had successfully burrito-ed himself in her comforter. “You guys ever go into the woods and look for beetles?”

Sam stopped mid-type and just stared straight ahead. He was about to say something stupid, wasn’t he?

“I like the way they cronch.”

“Danny no.” Sam wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.

Tucker accidentally sent himself into a slow spin as he laughed, “Are you eating bugs?”

“You try flying at over a hundred miles fast and not get a belly full of bugs.”

“Close your mouth maybe?” Sam suggested despite knowing he would find a way to counter it.

“But how will I make joke?”

Ah, there it is.

“Are we just going to glaze over the fact that he started this conversation off by asking if we go into the woods to hunt for beetles?!” Tucker asks, finally getting his laughter under control.

“What, I’m supposed to watch Bear Grylls eat a bug and not want to try one myself?

“You are legit feral!”

"Y'all just picky eaters."

"Y'all?!"

"My aunt is from Arkansas, I think that makes me legally allowed to use Southern-isms."

"This is the best thing that's ever happened!" Tucker hugged his sides as he laughed, "We should have got you high earlier. This is the funniest you've ever been."

"Aw, thanks, Tuck," Danny said bashfully before he threw the blanket off himself and crawled off the bed. "Hug time!"

"Wait, what?" was all Tucker had time to say before Danny sat in his lap, wrapped his arms around him, and nuzzled into his neck.

Danny hummed contentedly, "You're warm."

"Well maybe if you hadn't taken your shirt off you'd be warm too?"

"No. It made me feel gross. Pants do too." He muttered with a grumpy pout.

"Please keep your pants on!" Sam begged because she knew she wouldn't survive if he didn't.

"Boo." He huffed as he crossed his arms.

"Danny, you're still sitting on me."

"Yeah, I know."

"Why?"

"Because you looked lonely." He looked down at his lap as he twiddled his fingers together, "and I figured we'd be less lonely together."

Oh no, that was really cute.

"Thanks man, but I think I'm good now."

"Oh, right. Okay."

Danny didn't make any moves to get up.

Tucker moved his head so he could catch Danny's eye, "are you still lonely?"

Danny poked his pointer fingers together repeatedly as the lightest blush dusted across his cheeks, "yeah."

"You know," Tucker started with a sly grin creeping across his face, "goths are notoriously lonely people."

Tucker locked eyes with her and the utter betrayal she felt was unmatched. She was so getting him back for this!

Danny's eyes lit up in excitement, and also with ghostly energy, as he floated off Tucker's lap.

She barely had enough time to put her laptop away before he tackled her with his enthusiastic affection.

She mouthed, "I hate you," at Tucker after brushing Danny's hair away from her mouth.

Gosh, his hair was so soft. It was like what you think clouds should feel like. 

Her heart was beating so fast. Or was it his?

God, he was so close.

He was nuzzling into a spot just to the right of her collarbone and below her shoulder.

"Your shirt feels nice." He finally stopped and leaned back to meet her eyes, "Take it off."

"What? No!" She sputtered as she tried very hard not to yeet him across the room.

"Why not?" He pouted clearly missing how not okay that was to say.

"Because I'm wearing it! Just go get something from my closet if you want to wear my clothes so bad!"

He immediately took her up on the offer and scurried off to her closet.

"Wow, it's so big in here! It's like another room in your room."

"That's what a walk-in closet is you dingus!" Tucker shouted playfully.

Danny laughed as the sound of hangers sliding across the rod as he perused her selection carried into her room.

Just as Sam started to relax the very distinct sound of a zipper opening and denim dropping to the floor broke the comfortable silence.

Sam was pretty sure all the blood in her body evaporated.

"You want me to check on him?" Tucker asked already half out the chair.

"Please."

Tucker walked over cautiously, "Hey Danny, you about done in there?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out."

Tucker lingered just outside of the doorway of the closet, "You remember that Sam asked you not to take off your pants right?"

"But I found better ones."

Tucker turned back to her and whispered, "Better ones?"

She just shrugged and waved for him to continue.

"Right, can I come in?" He asked with so much question in his voice it sounded like he didn't actually want to.

"Sure! You can let me know if it's a look or not."

Tucker took a breath, stealing himself for whatever he was about to witness. He took a step forward and crossed the threshold and then another step he was out of view.

It was quiet for a moment before Tucker let out a poorly suppressed snicker. "Well, it's definitely a look."

Sam took her own steadying breath before walking into the closet herself.

Danny was there smiling down at his new outfit, before looking up at her. "So what do you think?"

The first thing she noticed was that he was wearing the DIY’ed crop top of her oversized Dumpty Humpty concert tee, the thick chunky fringe swayed from side to side as he moved.

Her eyes slowly traveled downward and found he was wearing bright baby blue capri leggings that were covered in sickeningly happy large white daisies. And to top it all off the shiny opalescent fabric of a high-waisted pleated skater skirt was the final item of his nightmare outfit.

He was a fashion disaster in the truest form.

She wasn’t sure if she should even bother asking why he chose what he did, there might not be a method to this madness.

Tucker on the other hand, apparently had no qualms in asking any question that popped into his head, “So why the skirt?”

“It reminds me of Jazz.”

“How?”

“We used to play dress up,” he admitted while twisting at the waist to get the skirt to flare around him.

He stopped abruptly and declared, “I want cheesy fries,” before grabbing them each by the hand and walking back into her room and towards the door.

Oh no, they could not go out like this. He could not go out like this! She is very sure he would not like it if anyone saw him dressed like this.

“How about I order them and we can watch a movie here?” She cursed herself internally because if he agreed to that they’d have to go back downstairs and it would make coming up here pointless.

“But Nasty Burger doesn't deliver.” he countered as he swayed his shoulders back and forth which caused both the crop top fringe and the pleats of the skirt to sway to the same hypnotic beat.

“I have my ways.” Those ways were an obscene inheritance. She found a lot of people did a lot of things if you just paid them the right amount.

“Okie Dokie Loki!” he agreed cheerily before skipping through her closed bedroom door.

Right, ghost powers. He still had those.

======================================================

Once she was confident enough that Tucker was keeping Danny distracted, Sam called the Nasty Burger to place their order. She figured she might as well just get something for everyone and make the delivery worth the person’s time.

The phone was answered on the 4th ring, “Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I know this is going to sound stupid, but could you take a delivery order for me?”

“We don’t do delivery?”

“I know, but can you make an exception? Just this once? I can pay extra!” God, she hated using her wealth this way.

“How much extra are we talking?”

But it was hard to argue with the results. “Name your price.”

After a bit of haggling for haggling’s sake, Sam was able to place her order. Now all she had to do was wait.

The stereo in the basement came on and it was obviously turned up pretty loud, but she couldn’t tell what the song was from her spot by the front door. Her leg bounced with impatience until the doorbell finally rang.

She popped up and sped walked to the door, cash in hand.

She opened it quickly to find Valerie on the other side. Sam sighed realizing that she should have expected that.

That‘s why the voice on the phone sounded so familiar.

“So I have to ask, why can’t you leave your house?”

Before she had time to come up with an excuse, he appeared.

“Valerie!” He cheered before running over and into Sam when he didn’t stop in time. “Are those my cheesy fries?”

Valerie’s expression went from surprise, to confusion, to perplexed amusement. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s my new fit! Do you like it?” he swishes to set the skirt and fringe back into motion. That seemed to be his favorite part of the outfit as far as she could tell.

“It’s definitely a statement.”

“Oh wait! I forgot the best part!” he reached into the pocket of the skirt. Which surprised Sam because she didn’t know that had pockets.

Then he pulled out something that made her even more confused, mostly because she had absolutely no idea where the heck he had even gotten those from.

He slipped on a pair of pale blue shutter shades and slipped them on. “Now it’s complete.”

Valerie stared at him for a good 20 seconds then leaned in almost nose to nose with him. "Are you high right now?"

"That depends," Danny slowly slides the shades down his nose, "Are you the police? Because if yes?" He pushes the glasses back up to sort of hiding his bloodshot eyes, "Nope."

Sam just closed her eyes, “I will pay you an extra two hundred dollars if you never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Make it two-fifty. I’ve got rent to pay.”

“Fine!” she pulled out the money and aggressively traded the food for the stupid amount of cash. She hated that she literally just had to pay Valerie hush money.

Danny better appreciate the lengths she was willing to go for him.

[sta-bright]

My First Tumble

Hi Tumblr,

I was inspired to get a Tumblr account, believe it or not, from Netflix's 2021 four-part docu-series "Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel." Although I highly doubt anyone cares enough to read any of my posts or has the attention span to read anything longer than a few sentences written by a 23 year old with her boobs out, *just in case,* SPOILER ALERT.

The (main) topic of the show focuses around Elisa Lam, who vanished in early 2013 when she was staying at the Cecil Hotel and was then found dead in one of the four water tanks on the roof 19 days after being reported missing (I think I have that correct but don't hold me to it, imaginary readers. It was something like that.).

Anyway, "...to make a long story short"... "too late" #cluereference, Elisa had a Tumblr blog. It seemed to be a good setup for how she was writing very personally, which is what I want to do, so here we go. I have a blog page for the business I own, but to be honest, it's geared more toward, well, business, so I don't feel like I can write freely, or only like the "good" or "normal" part of myself, the good stuff geared at an audience without scaring people away or whatever. So for this one, I don't really care as much about proper grammar or spelling, just somewhere to write my real thoughts if and when I can focus enough to sort them out enough to put them down. I have a bunch of journals, but they are all over the place and I can't write fast enough, so I'm going to try this out. I have a lot to say, and I think even just putting it out there even though I know no one cares might help me feel a little bit of relief, even if anyone does read it and might think I'm an idiot or whatever.

I wasn't sure what to name my blog, and I'm not sure if there's a way to change it in the future, but for now I have decided on "Sta-Bright." Most of my family and some of my close friends call me "Sta" and my partner David calls me Sta Bright, which I think is really cute and makes me happy, so here we are. I use the word partner because I think the word boyfriend is a little too young for us and our relationship warrants a higher level than that. ANYWAY, there is the background information for you, my new friend, Tumblr. I already feel better.

So, this show really pissed me off for a few (many) reasons. I've legitimately been pacing around all morning. First, even the title of the show is misleading. The death of Elisa Lam was not a "crime." It was a devastating incident of accidental death highly likely (as confidently confirmed by all professionals involved) related to a psychotic episode of her mental illness, Bipolar I, which I also happen to have. Netflix using the title "Crime Scene" to lure watchers in is disgusting within itself. Good for you, Netflix. Holla for the dollas! Make that money, baby.

Then, beyond the fact Netflix milked four episodes out of a glamorized case that was ruled an accidental death for this reason not even long after finding Elisa, it is the whole ordeal of the reality and dramatizing of this saga that is so sad.

Upon the release of the famous elevator footage the day she went missing, it went viral almost instantaneously.

*Hold please* I actually just read an article by BBC.com where director of the series, Joe Berlinger, says, "For the average viewer it's another compelling story you watch and then move on to the next. But for who this happened to, it's the worst moment in their life. It's a real tragedy for that person and that family." LOLOLOLOL OKAY JOE!!!! Is this why you spent FOUR EPISODES talking about bullshit theories to keep people hooked and open more discussion? You know that this is not out of respect. Shame on YOU!

"If you look at the other tellings of the story, you'd see she's the victim of some horrible, evil presence that took control of her.

"Those kinds of narratives, I think, are incredibly disrespectful and probably why the family just didn't want to deal with another show that was going to exaggerate the circumstances of the tragedy."

So is this why you made a show exaggerating the circumstances of the tragedy? Lol. "We need to talk about the ghost stories" Or do you need to talk about them to open a can of worms to more losers who fixate on the case? OR IS THAT JUST ME? I don't know. Lemme tell ya what. If anything ever happens to me, please make sure this Joe Schmuck doesn't make a pathetic docuseries about it.

Then, aside from the pathetic profit of Netflix, the actual details of what happened and how society and the "web sleuths" investigated, obsessed, and chimed in on this case is a whole other ballpark about society's minimization and lack of knowledge or respect for mental illness on its own.

THEN, there is a quote by Amy Price, the manager of the hotel during the incident, who is now profiting on a book she is writing about HER experience:

"I want to share my story," she says.

"But this isn't a horror story or anything like that. This is a story about struggle."

Okay, Amy. Whose fucking struggle are you writing about here? I legitimately don't know if she is referring to hers or Elisa's, but either way, it's gross.

It makes me so sad that this whole situation warranted MILLIONS of theories, millions of internet trolls writing articles about the "BIZARRE" death of this girl. This case is not fucking bizarre. It is unfortunate but it is not bizarre. This case was plastered all over internet lists with the titles "bizarre, unexplained cases of missing people." It's not unexplained, and it only was not for long.

These "web sleuths" were busy having a blast, going to the crime scene, smiling as they recorded, posting videos about their stupid theories. Trolls posting their dumb, far-fetched theories without knowing all of the facts, thinking they know better than the professionals, who DO have the findings, did do the labs, did do the investigations. And people still insist that THERE HAS TO BE MORE.

Of course, I don't know all the facts either. BUT, according to the actual professionals involved rather than the entire population of people who love a good "mystery," Elisa's toxicology results showed that her levels of the medications she was supposed to be on signified she had not been taking them as she should have been. They also found bottles of her medicine that had more pills than prescribed, also showing that she had not been taking them.

THEN, she was removed from the room she had been sharing with a few others due to "odd behavior" leaving weird post-its telling them to go away, or whatever. THEN, apparently going into the hotel lobby and screaming "I'm crazy!" or whatever it was.

Although all experiences with mental illnesses are unique, all of these details plus the footage, both detailing erratic behavior, leave no doubt in my mind that the professionals, SHOCKINGLY, CRAZILY, may be right! Who thunk it! I have legitimately acted in the ways described and shown in the video. I don't and couldn't understand HERS, but I understand MY paranoia, hallucinations, experiences I have had, and the actions that are presented, and I guarantee some would look very similar to that footage. Ask the few people who know me best what it's like when I'm not on my meds or fuck them up. I legitimately saw myself in her actions.

Yet, the internet losers had to fixate on a death metal artist who had stayed in the hotel for a few days A YEAR before any of this happened and legitimately ruined his life. His alibi was completely valid and he was dismissed by investigators. He was out of the country, he had tons of substantial paperwork and proof that he was, but that didn't matter.

Because no one takes bipolar disorder seriously, dismissing it as just mood swings, people being dramatic, seeking attention, being lazy, and everyone needs something more sensational, THIS wasn't even an option. They needed to fixate on crazy, fun conspiracy theories, watching the footage over and over and over again, sitting in their caves with their thumbs up their asses writing about their ballpark theories, internet bullying innocent people instead of doing any research on bipolar disorder, instead of defending or considering that it was a psychotic episode, which literally all of the official facts and footage present.

Clearly I'm not a professional either, but like... watch the show and you tell me. You tell me what you think is likely. You tell me what the professionals agree on. But before you make that call, try reading a little bit about bipolar disorder. Try reading about the psychotic episodes that can come with it. It probably won't change your mind, but oh well. It probably is just the hotel being haunted, ya know. Right? This is just my little rant that doesn't matter.

If you want to think it was a ghost, a demon, if it was a murder even though she literally had zero signs of any physical violence and there was zero evidence of it and all evidence the other way, you do that, boo. Have a blast. Hey, I 100% could be wrong, right? Absolutely. Who am I? Just a little dramatic, stupid, crazy nobody.

That's just my take, no better than any other internet trolls, I suppose. When all is said and done, in my little fantasy world, I guess people would just take bipolar disorder seriously and understand the severity of it. People would take it to consideration for the actions and words of those who have it. That's not fun, though. Everyone loves money, everyone loves a good story. Everyone loves making fun of people. Everyone loves a disability you can see. Everything I do is just me being an oddball. Everyone loves to be an internet bully.

I'm sorry for Elisa and her family who have had to deal with years of this. Years of people dismissing the severity of mental illness and obsessing over ghost stories, obsessing over the number of likes or views they get, money they make off of it.

Wow, that was a blast. I'm fairly confident no one will read this, but I feel a lot better that I put that out there. Again, I'm a little nobody, so nothing I say matters, but that's just my take on all of it. I've given up trying to convince anyone that I'm anything but weird, because I know no one will care or accept that. I'll just keep making people feel uncomfortable and keep looking like an idiot. Woe is me, am I right?

You have a blessed day now.

[absolutepx]

So I've been playing Death Stranding lately. Wait, that's not what this post is about. Well, it kind of is. Hang on. What is Death Stranding about?

A: Norman Reedus getting bare ass naked B. Sneaking around ghosts with the help of your sidekick, an actual baby C: Carrying 50 Amazon packages up a hill while trying to not topple over D: Waking up in the morning and drinking 5 Monster Energy™ for breakfast

For those following along at home, the answer is actually none of the above. Despite the set dressing being bizarre to the point of near absurdity, what the game is actually about, like thematically, is actually really simple.

See, the development of Death Stranding was actually quite a trip. Hideo Kojima is the video game world's equivalent of an auteur director. He has a very recognizable personal style. It's thoroughly horny – he caught a bunch of shit for the design of Quiet in MGSV, but like, a lot of Kojima characters are just -like that-, including the dudes. Also, this is going to possibly be important later.

Anyway, so Kojima was going to do a rebootmakequel of Silent Hill, and the demo actually made it to the PS store and I could actually write a whole side essay about why P.T. (it was called P.T. for some reason btw) was brilliant game design for how it used the same hallway over and over and it was somehow beneficial to the overall feeling of horror. So Konami it turns out kinda sucks nowadays and they like, fired Kojima (they were huge dicks about it behind closed doors, too) and scrapped the project and kicked him out on the street and kept the Metal Gear series which was his baby (literally the baby in the sink in P.T., he snuck a bunch of messaging about the Konami situation into the demo like a breakup album) and Kojima would go on to form his own studio and poach some of the people who worked with him to boot. So the thing about Kojima is this: he's got a reputation for already putting some wild shit in his games, like a ladder that takes like 10 real time minutes to climb in MGS3 for dramatic effect, and a boss in MGS3 that summons the ghosts of all the people you were too lazy to stealth past and killed, or a sniper battle with a really old guy that he wanted to have last two weeks or some shit until he died of old age but he was "told that "this was impossible and not recommended." That is a real quote I just looked up. So he's coming off the heels of making this hugely successful game with MGSV and the hype of the P.T. Demo and he fucking, he like took all the people that were going to be working on P.T. Along like Guillermo Del Toro was going to co-write it and Norman Reedus was going to star in it, and he's like, I'm going to make this game called Death Stranding. And the first trailer comes out for it and it's completely nuts. Norman Reedus wakes up naked on a beach crying with a baby and there are floating people in the sky? So we're all like hooooooly shit, there's no one to tell him "this is impossible and not recommended" anymore. What's he going to make now!?

So the whole time the game is in development I keep seeing these tweets where it'll be like, Kojima and one of his homies smiling with some saccharine message about being spiritual warriors and changing the world. And not just Del Toro and Reedus, there was Mads Mikkelsen (another guy Kojima puts in the game just because he apparently loves him), and the band Chvches, and also like, Keanu Reeves at one point? You know how everyone has just kind of accepted that Keanu is a being of light? Here he was endorsing Kojima. The hype was pretty confused and frantic.

The game eventually comes out. A lot of game journos hate it because I think there was this expectation it was going to be, you know, less weird and have more of the conventional structure of a video game. That's not to say the average gamer wasn't also dismissive of it, but I think on the ground level there was more of an understanding that like, yeah, Kojima just be like that sometimes.

Because the game was a timed console exclusive and your homie don't play like that, I spent the first year or so cautiously viewing Death Stranding from a distance. I wasn't sure I was going to like it – except for being really impressed with P.T., I wasn't actually a big fan of Kojima's games as games – but I -was- sure that I was going to buy it, because of the way Konami fucked him over, just out of support. And the shit I was hearing was really out there. The primary mode of gameplay is just delivery packages. You collect Norman Reedus' bathwater and pee and use it as grenades. You get a motorcycle that looks like the one from AMC's The Ride with Norman Reedus, and when you sit on it, his character in the game says "Wow, this thing is like the one from AMC's The Ride with Norman Reedus!"

But I didn't really want to know that much about it. Something has that much fucking crazy person energy, you want to go in mostly blind, right? So maybe people just weren't talking about this, or maybe I wasn't seeing it, but then I watched Girlfriend Reviews' video about it and they came right out and said it (link provided if you want to hear Shelby say it more articulately than me):

Death Stranding is basically about the exact opposite of Twitter. It's about remembering how to be kind to each other, how to reconnect in a world where people are so often hostile to each other by default. Prophetically, it's about a world where people are afraid to go outside or touch other people and how damaging that is. It's not a game about carrying packages, it's a game about helping people by being brave enough to walk through a wasteland carrying their burdens because they can't. It's about rebuilding the lost connections between people, about restoring roads and giving people hope. I bet, for Kojima and the people close to him, it's about how to answer hostility with compassion. You can't kill people in Death Stranding. You can and are absolutely encouraged to fucking throw hands with people sometimes, but all the tools and weapons are nonlethal. So I think Kojima took all the Twitter heat he got over the Quiet nontroversy, and all the feelings of isolation he had from Konami separating him from his team during the end of the development of MGSV, and all the support and encouragement he got from his bros Del Toro and Mads and the rest, and decided to channel that into making a game that was a statement about all of it. And sure, it's a little heavy handed, and sure, it's a little saccharine, and sure, the gameplay sometimes borders on miserable in service of creating emotional payoffs. For me, especially in 2020, this message is a huge success. Social media should be an opportunity for all of us to feel more connected to each other, yet primarily it feels like one of the main forces driving people apart. Why is that? Why is the internet of today such a hostile place? I'm old enough to remember web 1.0: I can haz cheezburger memes; YTMND; the early wild west days of Youtube... What happened to us? I've thrown the blame at Twitter in the past, and I think the architecture of the user experience on Twitter is absolutely a big piece of the puzzle, because it fosters negative interactions. But in terms of the behavior, people have observed that 2018 Twitter was actually almost exactly like 2014 Tumblr. (For the record, Tumblr is now one of the chillest places left on the internet, because so few fucks are left to give.)

I think part of it is the anonymity. The dehumanizing disconnection of the separation of screens and miles. Louis CK, before he was cancelled, had a great point about cyberbullying, and why it's so much more savage than kids are IRL. When you pick on someone in person and you are confronted with seeing the pain you caused them, for most sane people it causes negative feedback and you become disgusted with your actions and eventually learn to stop being a shithead. Online, at best you can "break the wrist, walk away".

At worst, you can become addicted to "clout chasing" and the psychological thrill of being cheered on by your social ingroup. It's even worse if you feel like it's not bullying and your actions are justified because whoever you've targeted is a bad person so you don't have to feel bad about what you do to them. This is where reductive, unhelpful catchphrases like "punch a nazi" come in. For every argument, one or both sides have convinced themselves that the other side is subhuman because their beliefs are so disgusting. And sometimes it's even true! A lot of times, especially these days, people really are acting like animals or worse online. Entire disinformation engines are roaring day and night, churning out garbage and cluttering the social consciousness. (Kojima talked about this bit, too, way back in MGS2. As if I wasn't already in danger of losing my thread through this.)

The human brain was not built to live like this. You can't wake up every morning, roll over and open your phone, and be immediately faced with a tidal wave of anger and indignity. It wasn't built to be aware of fully how horrible the world is at any moment ALL AT ONCE, ALL THE TIME. And you will be. Because of another way that our brain works – the way we are more likely to share negative opinions. And because of the cottage industry built on farming outrage clicks, and because of constant performative activism.

It's not that I don't agree that being informed is important.

It's not that I don't agree that the causes people get riled up about are important.

They are. They absolutely are.

But we can't keep living like this. The constant, unending flood of tragedy, arguments, and hot takes. How much of the negativity we associate with online culture is the product of this feedback loop? What if the rise of doomer culture has been, if not entirely created by, has been nourished and exacerbated by our hostile attitudes toward each other?  Incels and TERFs, white supremacists, radfems, tankies and Trumpers – it seems like on every side of every issue, there are people simultaneously getting it wrong in multiple directions at once and there are more being radicalized every day. They are the toxic waste left behind by the state of discourse. And any hill is a hill worth dying on.

So what am I actually advocating? I don't know. There are a lot of fights going on right now that are important and we can't just climb into bunkers and ignore our problems hoping that Norman Reedus and his fine ass are going to leave the shit we need on our doorsteps. We need to find the strength to carry those hypothetical packages for ourselves sometimes - and hopefully, for others as well. Humans are social creatures. We need interaction and enrichment.

We need love.

So just try to remember the connections between humanity. Try to put more good stuff into the world when you can. Share more shitposts and memes. Tell your friends and family that you love them. Share good news when you hear it. Go on a weird fucking tangent about Death Stranding. Find a way to "be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes."

[latenightcinephile]

#718: 'The Golden Coach', dir. Jean Renoir, 1952.

One of the most bizarre things that happens with this list happened once again when I was reading up about Jean Renoir's The Golden Coach. Heading to the Wikipedia page, which is where I usually start, I found not much had been said about the film, except for Andrew Sarris's remarks that it was "an international failure" upon release. This seems to be pretty common with films on the list - it's apparently a requirement that good movies be detested originally - so I went to the book itself to see what Tom Charity of Time Out had to say about it.

Turns out, not much either. Charity provides a brief plot summary, quotes Truffaut, who called The Golden Coach "the noblest and most refined film ever made", and says that Vivaldi "provides the soundtrack", which is a bit too active-sounding, considering Vivaldi had been dead for two hundred years at that point.

So, why is Renoir's film on the list? I'm not really sure. But I quite liked it, so it's worth exploring.

Jean Renoir is not well-known for his later films, of which The Golden Coach is one. His major fame came with the release of more realistic satires in the 1930s: La Chienne (1931), Boudu Saved from Drowning (1932), La Grande Illusion (1937), La Bête Humaine (1938), and The Rules of the Game (1939). Despite their often comic plots, these films were steadfastly realistic and drew on local times and places. The release of the latter film was disastrous, though. Despite frequent re-edits, French audiences detested The Rules of the Game and Renoir's known Communist sympathies resulted in the film twice being banned. When the Germans invaded Paris in 1940, Renoir fled, first to Rome and then to the United States. He made several films in Hollywood - some critically acclaimed, others not - before returning to Europe a decade later. It was then that he began work on a loose trilogy of films about theatre and artifice. The Golden Coach is the first.

The film really belongs to its lead actor, Anna Magnani, who brings such vivacity to her performance that the rest of the cast are basically just dancing around her. She plays Camilla, a performer with a commedia dell'arte troupe in the role of Columbine. The troupe has come to 18th-century Peru to perform, and are forced into a contract with the local innkeeper, who insists on being reimbursed for paying their ship's passage over to the new world. The only reason that the troupe's performances are successful is that two men become smitten with Camilla: the Viceroy (Duncan Lamont), a milquetoast with all the money and none of the sense, and Ramon (Riccardo Rioli), a famed toreador. Ramon's attentions make the commedia popular with the masses, and the Viceroy's make it popular with the court. The Viceroy even gifts Camilla with a golden coach, causing jealousy among the other nobles, who threaten to have him stripped of his post. In the midst of these two men, and a third, Felipe (Paul Campbell), Camilla's happiness in the theatre is steadily eroded and almost completely replaced with the difficulties of real life. Only a last-minute resolution worthy of a Shakespearean comedy returns everything to rights.

Pictured: an unappreciative audience. Peruvian philistines.

Some writers theorise that Renoir's turn to more overtly theatrical subjects are partly autobiographical: that is, after what could be called an exile from his home country he made these films as a sort of manifesto about the importance of performance - that imagination and playfulness are far more important than most cinema critics believe them to be. Audiences shunned his work, this theory goes, and so Renoir felt compelled to put forward this particular vision. As well as this, though, Sarris remarks that The Golden Coach has a melancholy undercurrent to it, most notably in the final moments of the film. Camilla is drawn back to the stage, reassured by the leader of the troupe that the only place she will ever find happiness is when she is pretending to be someone else. Camilla notices that the Viceroy, Ramon and Felipe are all gone. "Part of the audience, now," Don Antonio (Odoardo Spadaro) tells her. "Do you miss them?" Camilla pauses. "A little," she says, before Renoir cuts to a wider shot of her standing at the proscenium arch. In this scene, it's unclear whether Camilla actually can find happiness in the theatre. What is most important throughout the film, it seems, is the idea of possibility. Real life will eventually force Camilla to choose one of the lovers, and yet her decision at the end (to give the golden coach to the bishop, and therefore to stop the Viceroy from being overthrown and to have Felipe and Ramon released from prison) returns all three of the men to the role of potential love interest. It's interesting that the arrival of the bishop feels like such a deus ex machina, because within the wider frame of the film it makes very little sense. Camilla suddenly hits on a 'solution' that seems to conveniently restore everything to how it ought to be, but it does so in such a quick and efficient way that it feels very artificial.

Does it happen at all? At the beginning and end of the film, the curtain rises on a stage which shows part of the Viceroy's palace (the image seen above, with the Viceroy’s chambers through the door at the upper left, and the street behind the golden coach at the lower half). The opening and closing moments are explicitly a stage play, but the camera moves onto the stage and enters the world of the 'play' seamlessly. What was two-dimensional becomes three-dimensional. My gut interpretation of what is happening here is that the viewer is drawn into suspending their disbelief, as they do with all films. We enter the world of 1700s Peru, and the plot carries on happily enough until the end. Camilla has to choose between an unsatisfying but real end to her story, or to retreat into theatre and fiction. She chooses the latter, and the implausibility of it is so violent that it throws the viewer back out of the fictional world, back to the other side of the stage. We're back in the audience again, with the complicated people who don't fit neatly into a comedy plotline.

What we do get to do, though, is reflect on what we're seeing. There is a vibrancy in The Golden Coach that doesn't appear in many of Renoir's other films. Renoir makes the images colourful and lively, and this vibrancy is in itself entertaining. We're made to laugh at the antics, the effete lip-service that the nobles give to the king, the duels seen briefly through open doorways, and the timing of the commedia plays themselves. The mediocre acting (outside of Magnani) gives the film a roughspun, poor-theatre quality which is invigorating. We probably can't do what Camilla does and immerse herself permanently in this world, but Renoir's film makes no secret of the fact that he clearly thinks it's vital that this world exists, and that we're able to visit it from time to time.

[wowcool808]

A Midnight Encounter-Part 2-Younger Brothers

Welcome to part two of this head cannon! I originally wanted to make the head cannon for the older brothers when I started typing it out, but then I figured I would miss some opportunities between Salem and Belpie. Then, I kind of gave up and decided to just do all the brothers. I think it turned out okay though, so I hope you enjoy!

To set the scene, MC is laying in their bed, staring up at the ceiling. They have been awake longer than they would like, and they don’t know what to do to lull themselves back asleep. After thinking for a while, they finally decide to just get some melatonin. Seems like a smart thing to do first, but it was all the way in the bathroom, which seemed like a mile away in the mellow darkness. MC grabs the suggested amount, and starts to move downstairs to get a drink of water to wash it down. Creeping around in an oversized, cat onesie, MC enters the kitchen and quietly reaches for the cup, when...

-Salem (#CatBoyUwU)

The air was still and quiet, masking him in darkness as he crept around in the silence. Step by step, he descended into the hallway leading into the main hall. Salem had been planning this for about a week now. He had texted Belphie about his plan only a few days ago, but he agreed to it right away. After all, Belphie would never miss an opportunity to prank Luci. The plan was to rig the refrigerator so that when Luci opened it to check to see whether Beel had eaten, a large, thick smog would fill the room and cause him to faint. It would be way easier to deal with him from there.

Salem smirked to himself after re-imagining his plan. It was foolproof. Almost every time, Luci had somehow snuck out of his perfectly crafted traps like a sly fox. Salem didn’t know how he managed to do it, but this time, he will come out on top. Well, both him and Belphie, but still. Salem arrived in the kitchen and started arranging the trap. He pulled out the vial filled with the concoction and started arranging the food in the fridge so that it would cover up any disturbance. 

After finishing he stood up and took a look at his complete masterpiece. He was making some final touches when he heard someone descending the stairs. Salem jumped up and hid behind a counter. Expecting Luci to appear, he waited in anticipation. However, it wasn’t Luci at all, nore was it any of his brothers. It was none other than MC, creeping towards the kitchen. But, wait, what were they wearing? It was big and baggy, plus it was dark black as well. As they approached, he was able to make out what it was. A...Cat… They were dressed up as a cat! Or more accurately, they were dressed in a cat onesie. 

Salem stood there in a daze, transfixed by the absolute cuteness and innocence of the silent MC as they walked further into the kitchen. Their pink ears were lit by the casting moonlight from the window, bopping along as they went. Salem realized he felt awfully hot in his face. He shook it off as he continued gazing at MC. They had just passed him and continued walking. Wait, they were walking right towards the fridge! Salem jumped up and shouted “Don’t open that!”

MC jumped in shock and turned around. “Oh jeeze Salem! What the heck!” they say panting and shaking their head. 

“Oh, sorry.” He said, regaining his composure.

“W-what shouldn’t I open?”

“Ah, right. Well, you were about to open the fridge, right? I rigged it for Luci.”

“O-oh, okay. Well, I wasn’t going to the fridge, I was just grabbing a glass of water.”

“Ah, okay, my apologies.” He said, shaking off his embarrassment. MC was still staring up at him in their oversized pajamas, and Salem had to look away to prevent himself from getting transfixed again. 

MC looked at him for a final moment before shrugging and grabbing a cup from the cupboard. 

“You said you were rigging it for Luci?” MC said, filling the void of silence. “What does it do?”

“Well, I put a couple of ounces of this powder in the fridge, and when you open it, the powder reacts with the oxygen and creates a smog that’s strong enough to make anyone in the vicinity faint.”

“Oh… well, I guess that would’ve been bad if I had opened that, huh?” MC said chuckling. “Um, so do you need any help?”

Salem turned around and raised an eyebrow. He was actually considering asking MC for help, but since they always got dragged into being yelled at by Luci, he didn’t think it would be fair for them. But, if they offered then…

“Do you really want to help? You could get yelled at again. At this point, he’s tied you up almost as much as he's tied up Mammon.”

“Okay, that’s a bit much,” they said, laughing “we all know I could never catch up

with Mammon. But yeah, I want to help. I couldn’t fall asleep anyway, so I might as well do something ‘productive’” they said, air-quoting the word productive. 

Salem stood still and thought for a moment. On one hand, he didn’t exactly need help, plus, he would feel bad if they had gotten caught and punished. On the other hand, he wanted to spend time with MC, and they wanted to help, too.  Belphie was distracting Beel, so it’s not like he could help him with the decision. He finally looked up and nodded, “Okay, yeah, you can help.”

MC did an air punch and whispered “yes!” under their breath. Salem smiled and jerked his head to the counter, suggesting to MC to hide there with him. They crouched behind it and leaned against each other, MC’s fuzzy self pressed against his side. It took all of Salem’s willpower to not melt right then and there. He confirmed in his mind that if he had dropped dead right then and there, he would be content. Salem shook his head and stared straight in front of him, awaiting his victim…

Asmo-

UGGHHH! Why couldn’t he fall asleep! Asmo had been tossing and turning all night in his soft bed, unable to even get a wink of sleep. He had never been an insomniac, so this was very bizarre for him. He could practically feel his skin drooping and winkling whenever he moved! Asmo gave up and sat up against his bedboard. He couldn’t believe it. He was never like this. Usually it was someone else’s fault when he was unable to sleep, but this time, it was his doing. Even he had to admit that. 

Asmo turned his head towards his bedroom door. He could hear someone making their way past his doorway. Maybe someone else was as sleep deprived as him? He smiled as he imagined MC walking past, creeping as to not wake anyone else. Perhaps, him? You can’t get past me that easily  he thought, as he snuck out of his bed and towards the door. Asmo opened it carefully, making sure that it didn’t give him away by creaking. By the time he poked his head out, the person was already at the other side of the hallway. They were dressed in large, black pajamas, masking their true identity. 

Asmo waited for the person to descend down the stairs to slowly follow them, a good 30 paces behind them. Only when he saw them enter the kitchen did he start to close the distance between them. As he entered the kitchen, he reached his hand out to turn on the light. As soon as he did, the identity of the dark figure was revealed. It turned out Asmo was right, because it was MC who was standing in the center of the kitchen. In a… cat onesie? So that’s why they were able to hide in the darkness. But nevermind that, MC looked so cute!

Asmo bounded toward MC and threw his arms around them. 

“Oh MC, you’re soooo cute! But, what are you doing up at this hour?”

MC pushed Asmo away gently in shock. They were still recovering from the abrupt welcome. 

“Um, well, I came for water, what about you? You’re never up this late.”

“Oh, right! Well, naturally I wouldn’t do this at my own will. I just couldn’t fall asleep! My beautiful face and skin is at the mercy of my wakefulness. I can feel it wrinkle and crinkle under my touch!”

“Oh, that’s uh, probably not good.” MC says gazing at Asmo “But, it doesn’t look bad to me.”

“Aw, thanks MC! But, I don’t need any pity, I know that it’s happening.”

“Well, if it helps, I have some melatonin you can have. That’s why I came down, anyway, to get water.”

“Oh, really? That’s so nice of you, MC! I’ll take your offer, then.” 

“Okay, cool. I still need to grab some water, though. You might want to take some as well.”

Asmo didn’t really need to grab some water. After all, he has at least 5 full bottles in his room. Good hydration is the first rule of beauty! However, he grabbed a cup of water to be courteous. When they were ready to head out towards MC’s room, Asmo took their hand and led the way. MC hesitantly followed him, even though it was to their own room. Annoyingly enough, Asmo didn’t seem like he cared that anyone would wake because of him and MC. MC, on the other hand, had to continuously remind Asmo to hush.

When they arrived in MC’s room, MC swiftly made their way to the bathroom where the melatonin was. They grabbed two pills and gave them to Asmo. He thankfully took them and swallowed it with the water. Then, he collapsed on the bed. 

“Ah… Your bed is so soft MC! I don’t know how you were unable to fall asleep in the first place.”

MC sat next to him and folded in their legs. “Well, your bed is comfortable as well, and yet you’re unable to fall asleep, too.”

“I guess you’re right. Man, you’re so smart, MC!”

“Well, not really, but thanks.” they said turning to look at Asmo “By the way, Asmo, why weren't you able to sleep in the first place?”

Asmo was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, it felt like an eternity had already passed. “Well, I’m not sure. I guess I’ve just had some things on my mind for a while.”

MC cocked their head and furrowed their eyebrows in concern. “Why’s that? What’s wrong?”

Asmo smiled and shook his head “It’s nothing crazy. I just heard something the other day and it got me thinking some.”

Asmo wanted the conversation to end, but MC just continued staring at him with eager and concerned eyes, urging him to continue. Eventually, Asmo confessed.

“Well, I heard on Youtube that apparently, no matter how amazing of a person someone is, there are always people who will disagree with you or dislike you. Now, look at me. That can’t be true, right? I put so much effort in my appearance and beauty, so how can someone not like me. No one has ever told me otherwise, so have some people just been lying to me this whole time?”

MC secretly knew this was not true. People have insulted him before (mainly his brothers), but he filters out anything that’s not a complement. Well, whatever, MC understood how he felt. The anxiety of being unliked by people, it was something they felt sometimes too.

“It’s just… I can’t imagine people lying to me about that. I’m so beautiful, and people  lie to agree with me? That can’t be right, right? If I’m not beautiful, then what am I?”

MC thought about it. It makes sense as to why this would be eating away at him.

“Um well, see Asmo, I think the video was right, there are always people who won’t like you. But, that’s true about everyone. Opinions, just like beauty, depends on the person. Not everyone can be happy with one thing, otherwise, there would be no problems in this world. I think you should use that as a strength, though. Figure out what you can improve on, then you can please even more people. You have a lot more than outside beauty, you know that, right?” 

“I do?” he asked, slightly surprised.

“Of course! You’re kind, and empathetic, and you put so much effort in everything!”

Asmo stared at the ground for a second, thinking. He then looked up at MC and smiled. 

“You’re right. Maybe my goal should just be to impress as many people as humanly possible. Maybe, without just my outside appearance…” he said trailing off. He pulled MC in a tight hug and sighed. “Thanks, MC. I feel a lot better now.”

“Egh, yeah no problem.” they squeezed out. 

“Hey MC, can I sleep with you tonight?” Asmo said, pulling away.

“Hehe, no, sorry Asmo.” 

“Awww”

-Beel

*Grumble grumble* *grumble grumble* Beel lay awake on his side, his stomach shaking his whole body. He felt his emptiness gnaw and eat away at his insides. He couldn’t stand it, just like he always did. He shifted his body and he heard crinkling around his waist. They were the opened plastic from the already-eaten snacks Beel had used only a few minutes ago. It hadn’t even satisfied him enough to fall asleep, and now he’s even more hungry than before. 

Beel sat up on his bed and started searching for anything he missed, any snack he left uneaten. No dice. Beel sighed and slowly moved to his dresser drawers, where he kept all of his leftovers from the day before. He knew the answer, but he had some hope anyways. Yup, nothing in there. Surrendering, Beel stood up and moved out the door. He always felt bad raiding the kitchen, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t stand being hungry; it was worse than being bored, angry, or any other negative feeling!

Beel made his way into the kitchen, his stomach probably alerting everyone no matter how hard he tried to be quiet. As he turned the corner, he noticed a dim light in the kitchen. He walked over and looked in, and noticed MC leaning against a counter, their face illuminated by the soft glow of their phone. Thinking it was kind of weird, Beel stepped further in the room.

“Hey MC, what are you doing?” He said softly.

MC looked up, shocked. Noticing who it was, they exhaled in relief. “Oh, thank goodness, it’s you Beel. I thought you were Luci for a second. I feel like he would scold me for being up late.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m Beel.” He said chuckling.

“Hehe, yeah, I guess you are. Anyway, I’m assuming you came here for food?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” He said, rubbing his belly “so I was hoping there would be a lot of food in the fridge.” 

“Um, I checked it earlier to get an apple from in there, and there wasn’t a whole lot of food.”

Beel widened in eyes in fear “No leftovers?”

“Nope, we went to Diavolo’s today, plus, we’ve eaten the rest of the leftovers from previous nights.”

“Oh gosh, oh no.” He said, rubbing his head. He felt his body getting warmer and hungrier with each passing moment.

“H-hey, it’s okay. We have cereal and milk, don’t worry.” MC said, nervously moving to the pantry to grab the boxes of cereal. Beel continued mumbling to himself as MC grabbed a large bowl, 2 boxes of cereal, milk, and a spoon, and handed it to him. Beel looked down and noticed the cereal in his arms.

“Oh… did you grab these for me?” Beel asked MC, who nodded in confirmation. “Oh, yay, thanks!” He said, giving MC a big grin. He sat down at the table and started pouring his bowl. MC stood in the doorway, watching him. He poured a massive bowl that overflowed on the table. 

“You know, you could just pour a normal-sized bowl and eat that, and just get another one after.”

Beel paused for a moment and then shrugged “Too late now.” He shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. While he was munching, MC took a seat across from him, pouring themselves a smaller, more acceptable bowl of cereal. They were both eating when MC’s mind started wandering. They pondered as to why Beel could eat so much without gaining a single pound. Well, to be fair, he does a lot of sports and other activities, so that could be it. Still, it seems a bit odd…

“MC? You okay? You look like you're thinking about something pretty hard.” Beel said, his mouth half full of cereal. 

MC looked up at him and grinned “Yeah, that’s probably because I was thinking rather intensely. It’s just…” MC paused, searching for the right words “...you eat so much, and yet you still look amazing! I’m jealous you can still look great after a full course meal.” MC felt her body get a bit flushed once they realized how it sounded, but they shook it off. 

Beel was silent for a moment, apparently leaving the slightly unintentionally flirty complement unnoticed. He swallowed his mouthful before he started talking again. “Well, I naturally have a high metabolism. Some of my brothers have it, too. Luci and Mammon are some examples, but Asmo and Belphie weren’t so fortunate. Kind of ironic that Asmo wasn’t lucky, actually.” He let out a chuckle as he ate a few more spoonfuls.

MC looked down at their own bowl, watching the colorful, sugary pieces float about in the sea of milk. Beel reached to grab the box for another bowl while MC drained their milk. Beel sat back for a moment in an attempt to finish his original thought.

“It might also be because I work out a lot. I didn’t start working out to stay fit, but it came as a bonus I guess.” he finished. As he was leaning in to enjoy his bowl again, he finally noticed what MC was wearing: a cute, black kitten onesie with sleepy eyes and a button nose. He smiled sweetly and chucked “I like your pajamas. You almost look like Belphie.”

MC smiled, embarrassed “Er, thanks Beel.” they said. They would’ve been more flustered if it hadn’t been for his cute, comforting smile. “I got it a while ago back home, but I never cared to wear it around anyone since it seems too childish.”

Beel furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head. “I don’t think it’s childish at all. I think it’s just cute.” 

MC chuckled and looked away “Thanks, Beel, at least I know you won’t judge me.”

Beel looked at MC with a stern face. “MC, no one would ever judge you. You're basically part of our family now. Plus, look at Levi and Belphie. Belphie wears onesies like you, and Levi is basically the definition of immaturity. We still love them, though, no matter their preferences.” 

MC blinked and looked back at Beel. Beel brought up some good points, though they did seem a bit obvious, MC still hadn’t seen it. It would make sense as to why Beel would be a good supporter though, since he was often the peace keeper of the house whenever his brothers were fighting. Well, MC was still a bit better at it, but Beel is learning.

MC sighed and grinned “You have a point. Sorry about that, thanks again, Beel.”

Beel smiled his cute smile again and nodded his head, murmuring a vocal conformation. He was almost done with his second massive mountain of cereal, and he was actually slowing down. He shoved the last few spoonfuls in his mouth before sighing and leaning back. MC got up and started to put the bowls in the sink, and Beel helped them clean the table free from any leftovers. When it was all done, they leaned on the wall next to the kitchen door. 

“Well, I should probably go to bed soon, Luci would beat me up if he knew I had stayed up for another hour.” MC said, rubbing their neck.

“Yeah,” Beel agreed tiredly, “I should probably go to bed too.”

Before they left, Beel pulled MC into a massive hug. Surprised, MC jumped a little, but quickly hugged him back. They linger for just a second, with MC listening to his heartbeat match theirs. 

Belphie-

*tic tic tic* The muffled sounds of the nearby clock seemed like it was dragging on longer than it should have. Belphie had been waiting for a text from Salem for longer than he would admit. They had promised they were going to set up a plan where Salem would trick Luci into opening the fridge, where then a big cloud of smoke would collide with him and knock him out. Naturally, it would work as planned, but now he’s having second thoughts after waiting over an hour for Salem’s confirmation that it worked. Belphie’s job was to stay awake in his room to prevent Beel from going on a snack run, because if he did, then both the plan and Beel’s day the next morning would be ruined.

Honestly, the only way someone could keep Belphie awake this late was if something unfortunate would come to Luci. Otherwise, he would’ve fallen asleep halfway through the proposition. Belphie had actually almost fallen asleep a number of times, but he always woke himself up before it was too late. By this point, Belphie was getting a lot more irritated, so he decided to check on Salem just in case something had happened. To be fair, that was the entire reason as to why he waited for so long for the text: he didn’t want to be drawn into any punishment, but Belphie had already given up by the time he opened his door to leave.

On his way down, he grabbed a small flashlight to use in the case where he had to be pretty stealthy. When he arrived at the kitchen, he turned the flashlight on the dimmest setting that allowed light, and he searched the room. At the very end of the kitchen, he saw someone hunched over on the sink. Someone small...and… furry? Belphie started walking when the person turned around abruptly, recoiling slightly by the light. It was obvious who it was now, and Belphie was surprised it took him this long to identify the person.

“Well, well, well… who do we have here?” he said coyingly.

“Oh shut up, Belphie, you wear onesies too.” MC said, rolling their eyes. 

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on commenting on that, but I’m glad you brought it to my attention.” Belphie had started encircling MC like a predator encircling its prey.

“Whatever,, I’m sure you noticed it before. Anyway, what are you doing down here?”

“Hmm… I was about to ask you the same thing.” Belphie said, teasing them.

MC was slowly starting to get impatient. Honestly, they could totally take him down, with Belphie being small and “fragile” and all that. Well, it was just wishful longings; MC would never resort to violence when it was unnecessary. 

“Why did you come down here?” MC asked again firmly.

“I’ll answer if you answer the same question first.”

MC groaned. Why did he always have to make things more difficult than they needed to be? “Fine, I came down here just to get a glass of water. Was it that difficult?”

Belphie stopped encircling MC and stood across from them, hands in his pockets. “Nope. Was it that difficult to say?” MC raised their eyebrows expectantly “Fine, I came down here to meet up with Salem. We were meaning to prank Luci, but we apparently had some miscommunication, so I decided to check on what was going on.”

MC nodded, taking all the information in before speaking. “What kind of miscommunication?”

Belphie shrugged and pulled out his phone. “He was supposed to text me an hour ago to let me know if it had worked or not, but I haven’t gotten anything.”

“Oh, okay.” MC looked at him. As much as he teased them, they liked hanging out with him because they seemed to know them better than anyone. Maybe it was because they just spend the most time together, maybe it was because he was easy to talk to. Who knows. Plus, his hugs and cuddles were really warm as well. 

“Well, do you want me to help you look for him?” MC said, leaning back and crossing their arms.

“You’ll do that for me?” he said in a glamorously sarcastic voice.

“Not if you sound so unenthusiastic about it”

“Alright, alright, fine” he said, giving up.

They headed out to search the rest of the house. They mainly looked at places either Salem spent most of his time, or places he could be hung up and/or punished. They had no luck for a while, but they managed to locate Luci, who was in the secret room inside the library. They had heard the solemn music track he always listened to from a mile away. Despite Belphie’s objections, they decided to leave him be. They had searched for another 20 minutes or so before they heard a ping  from Belpie’s phone. Finally, Salem had answered. All it said, though, was Code blue: meet in my room in 5 minutes.

“Wait, but weren’t we just there?” asked Belphie.

“Yeah we were, strange. Besides, what does code blue mean?” MC asked as they ascended the main hall stairs.

“Psh, like I know. I paid enough attention to understand the main idea and my job, not whatever extra stuff Salem wanted to do for the sake of his detective fantasy.” he said dismissively.

As they arrived at the door, they noticed Salem’s light was on. 

“Huh, so I guess he is in here.” MC said, intrigued.

“Of course I am. That’s what I told you, didn’t I?” Said a voice from behind the door.

The door was open to reveal Salem. Upon closer inspection, Mc notices he was starting to bruise on his wrist. 

“Hey Salem, what happened to you? And, why do you have bruises on your right wrist?” MC said, concerned.

Salem shook his head and invited the two in his room. “You noticed? Well, turns out Luci had found out what I was doing because he installed this new mechanism on the fridge that sends alerts to his phone whenever the fridge opens during nighttime. It was made to help prevent Beel from stealing, but it found me out as well. This,” he said, nodding at his wrist, “was from when I got caught. Luci made me stay up for about an hour and a half writing ‘I will not ‘prank’ nor ‘punish’ my brothers again’. I had only just gotten back when I texted you, Belphie. It was a pretty gruesome punishment, but it could’ve been worse.”

Belphie and MC looked at each other in the same concerned yet confused expression. 

“Wait wait wait, did you rat me out? Did he find out I was working with you?” Belphie said in a slightly frantic tone.

“No, you’re in the clear. Take it as my token of appreciation for going along with my plan even though I messed it up by not being thorough.” Salem said. Belphie’s sigh of relief was hard to hide, and he didn’t care to either. “Don’t count on me doing it again, though. I might not be so sensible next time.” he added.

MC was surprised he was so calm and forgiving. After what happened, even they would’ve been furious. Plus, Salem was known for his uncontrollable anger. Perhaps he had already taken it out on something before they had come over?

“Well, you can go now. I only called you to tell you what happened. Plus, I technically didn’t invite MC either. Though I don’t mind their company, I didn’t agree to let them in on our plan.” Salem said, pushing them out of the room. For some reason, MC couldn’t help but feel the irony in that last part of the statement.

“Sorry about that Salem. But anyway, goodnight.” MC said as they entered the hallway.

“Yeah, you too.” Salem said as he closed the door.

MC waited a moment before turning to Belphie “Well, that was nice of him” 

“Yeah, it was almost uncharacteristically nice of him” He said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Hey, I heard your sigh of relief, I know you appreciated it.”

“Yeah I did. I don’t need Luci on my tail for another reason.”

Belphie and MC stood in front of the door for a few seconds before leaving for their respected rooms. Right before they split apart, they said their goodbyes, hugging each other before leaving. But, as they turned around, MC bumped into a wall. Stepping back and rubbing their head, they realized that it wasn’t a wall, but a large, black silhouette. 

“Hello MC and Belphie. Do you mind repeating what you said to Salem in his room.”

Oh crap.

[davidmann95]

So... Crossover #1: any thoughts?

Anonymous said: You seemed not to think much of Crossover #1 on Twitter. Your full thoughts?

wcwit said: So Cates' Crossover #1, best bad comic of the year or just regular pretentious trash?

An incidental note upfront: What you’re seeing there is the apparently SUPER-RARE SECRET VARIANT COVER I unwittingly picked up at the store - at first glance indistinguishable from the standard cover, the kid getting four-color-fucked by mysterious comic book rays is in fact themselves reading a variant cover of the book, rather than the main cover again in an infinite painting-within-a-painting sort of deal that’s the standard.

So I wasn’t gonna get this: my initial post on the comic and what an obviously awful idea it was back when we only knew half the premise and it was known as Pray The Capes Away actually got some out-of-nowhere traction recently, and I’ve grown rapidly tired of Cates’ Marvel work. Even learning that it was going to be Image’s biggest debut in decades - Jesus fuck, how and why - mostly just made me wish it was Commanders in Crisis getting those kinds of numbers. But Sean Dillon/@deathchrist2000 and Ritesh Babu both got early looks at it and assured me that I, specifically, needed to see the last page, so in I dove. I’ll be posting my reaction to the last page below because I recorded it for their amusement, and below that I’ll talk about said last page. It may surprise you, however, that that wasn’t my main takeaway from the issue.

Let’s accentuate the positive first! This book is gorgeous. Geoff Shaw was terrific back with Thanos Wins, but this is an incredible stylistic level-up aided and abetted by Dee Cunniffe’s colors: it’s rote as hell to say “They mix the elevated and the mundane so well!”, but even beyond the obvious ben-day dots stuff there’s such a tangible sense that the comic book beings don’t belong here, that they’re of higher, misty, platonic stuff and we squishy non-paper-people inevitably crumble and break and bleed in their wake, communicating that big idea so much more powerfully than the actual loads of text on the subject. And if we’re talking good things, I’ll concede it’s possible that there could be subtleties that play out in more interesting ways as it goes on, and that not everything is meant to be taken at face value: a smart friend who actually did like it mentioned being interested in it as clumsy but potentially effective exploration of ‘what if the fun hobby you had inadvertently became contaminated and stigmatized by forces beyond your control?’ In a post-Comicsgate world where we recently ended up inches away from the Superman logo almost certainly becoming a fascist propaganda symbol ala the Punisher skull for at least a generation, that’s a defensible lens to view this book through.

For all Donny Cates’ legitimate talents however, I don’t think an expectation of subtlety is gonna work out with this one.

Okay first off getting into the rest of it the main characters’ name is Ellipsis because “Those three little dots...they can become anything”, so there’s that. More importantly, in the world of this story where comic fans face social oppression after superpeople materialize and fuck up Colorado, they face EVERY KIND OF OPPRESSION: there are clear parallels drawn in here to the violence and harassment faced by people persecuted for their religion, people seeking abortions, queer people, and people of color; this motherfucker even drops a “hates and fears” to let us know comic collecting basically makes you one of the goddamn X-Men. Which in theory could be a purely misjudged allegory rather than stemming from actual, obscenely inflated to the point of disgusting fears of ‘nerd oppression’, except that the book literally opens with a quote from Wertham. If Cates didn’t want to make the message “Hating comics? That’s bad. Like, racism bad”, he utterly, grotesquely failed by inextricably intermingling imagery of real-world bigotry with systemic, deluded fanboy paranoia, at least as of this first issue that’s supposed to meaningfully convey the premise. As a queer dude I think I’m somewhat in my lane to say it’s too blunt and broad and dopey to be particularly offensive, but the co-opting of oppression is what this is rooted in.

The idea of ‘comics good no matter what people think, ain’t it?’ extends to the last traditional local comic store standing in this world: much as superheroes are the primary cause of suffering in this world but the point of the story is still supposed to reveal the beauty in them, part of this is that the comics community isn’t perfect but it sure is great. Which is expressed here via Ellie’s boss Otto, a loveable asshole who yells at people coming in trying to sell the wrong kind of comics to fuck off, but at heart is we’re supposed to understand a good enough dude that the shop he runs is “the only home a lot of (the benighted nerds) have left” (because I guess in this alternate universe the physical stores are still the main hub through which comics fans talk with one another?).

So here’s a story of my very own! That’s me in 2013, it must’ve been some kind of special day because I’m wearing a shirt with a button. I’d at that point only frequented one of what would be my thus far four regular comic shops. The first was a great place, and while to say I had a sense of community there would be overstating it a bit, I was on really good terms with the owner and we regularly chatted when we had the time. When I left for college my store there wasn’t as well-stocked, and for some damn reason all variant covers were double-price, but I got along really well with the owner there too. The third I wasn’t so lucky; the guy regularly behind the desk was never overtly hostile, but clearly wanted to wring my neck every time I asked when a missing comic might get in or if I could update my pull list, and given I’m in the ‘ideal’ demographic for being a comic book store regular and was dropping a solid lump of money there every week, I wonder how others were treated there (the store nearly went under, was saved on the last day of operation by another store that wanted to incorporate it as part of its franchise, then shortly afterwards DID go under and is now I believe a beef jerky place). My current store is fine, I didn’t chat much with the folks behind the counter even before we all had medical incentive to get in and out of places fairly quickly but it almost always has what I’m looking for.

Just because those were my regular stores of course doesn’t mean those are the only ones I’ve ever gone to. About a year before that picture was taken - it’s the closest I could find - when I was 17 my store didn’t have something or another I was looking for, so I head across town to see if another place I had looked up had it. This other place didn’t have what I was looking for either, though I distinctly remember picking up a few issues of Hickman’s FF while I was there since I had foolishly fallen off, hence my remembering the year. I bought a couple issues, but hung around for a bit looking to see if I might grab something else out of a dollar box, setting my comics down. Without realizing it, I’d set my books down on top of another issue, and when I decided I wasn’t getting anything else, I just picked that up along with the rest of the pile and was about to walk out before the owner stopped me. He explained what I had done though assumed it had been deliberate, and because I was a good-hearted little geek I even recall thinking “Well, he’s gonna chew me out, but I guess I deserve it. I’ll try and take this to heart as a learning experience.”

Then he pulled up his shirt a little to show me the gun on his belt. He pointed at the security camera monitors at his desk, and explained to me that if I ever did something like that again, he would have it on tape, and he would pull that gun on me and hold me there while he called the cops.

As it turned out, the comic was free.

The whole thing was so sudden and bizarre and unexpected I didn’t actually freak out until the drive home. It wasn’t until weeks or maybe months later that I managed to tell my dad about the experience, because I *had* nearly stolen a (free) comic and my guilt was mixed in with my nerves and I guess I was somehow too close to register just how disproportionate his response was. It wasn’t until now, nearly a decade later and thinking about it for the first time in a long time as I write this, that I wondered if that might have gone differently - especially living in the midwest - if I hadn’t been a white, squeaky-voiced 17-year-old.

So, minor spoiler, when our cantankerous but well-meaning LCS owner yells to call the cops and grabs and yells at a small kid for pocketing a comic (and later displays fantasy racism towards said kid), I am not filled with nostalgic love for the brotherly safe space that is comic book stores, where this guy while not meant to be seen as perfect is still framed in part as a charming, witty representation of Why We Love These Places, And This Community, And This Genre, And This Medium. Cates is clearly drawing on real time at his local stores, but he equally clearly has a very different takeaway from those experiences than me. And I am, again, in a demographic - white, cis-male, abled, bi but more interested in women, disposable income, a lifelong collector - that the industry and a lot of the guys who sell it to us contort themselves around catering to, even if I had a single very negative experience and later an ongoing low-key uncomfortable one to help disabuse me of any notions of the purity of the dork community. In the world of Crossover as of #1, toxicity is intertwined, deliberately or not on the part of the creators, with what we love on the cosmic and small business scales alike, but at least in the latter case it’s the whole picture that’s beautiful, not any single kernel that needs to be worked on to be dug up.

So underneath is my video reaction to the last page of Crossover #1. Very minor spoilers because I mutter the last two words of the comic to myself, but under the video I discuss said final page and some other scattered thoughts. Whether you read that or not, my takeaway is this: I’m fascinated with wherever the hell this thing is going, I’m glad my dad liked it well enough to want to keep getting it because now I’ll get to see where it heads, but my first impression is that this is at heart meant as cheapass Oscar-bait for people who only read Batman. It’s big and high-concept but also small and intimate! It’s meta and about how great you, the reader are for your consumption, especially the consumption of this! It’s going to be in large part about a forbidden love between a couple divided across impermeable social lines (a couple where they’re a seemingly straight white man and woman, but one likes comics)! Maybe it’ll become Not That, and I’m sure it’ll do at least something interesting along the way because Cates has done good stuff before and there are some inherently interesting big ideas for him to play with here, but for the love of god if you’re thinking about getting this buy Commanders in Crisis too or instead, it’s another new book out of Image about superheroes dealing with the collapse of the multiverse but that one is really fucking good.

So the final page splash reveal is that when the comic book child discovered in here got out of Colorado, which has had an impenetrable energy shield erected around it by one of the heroes for years, she and others were ferried out of there...by Superman, as the narration declares that “This is a story...about hope.” They don’t say the word, but she sketches her savior, Ellie and Otto freak out and go “Is that---” when they see it, and on that last page we see that while a crude drawing it isn’t a rough analogue character, it’s a guy with a cape and trunks with an S on his chest. Surprisingly, I don’t have much to say: it’s just another blunt signifier that superheroes rule and are the best, paired with the most utterly devalued notion as of late of what makes Superman special in ‘hope’. I mean, I’m perversely excited to see whether this is building the entire series on a hook it can never deliver on, or if Cates actually has talked DC into an intercompany crossover; believable given they’ve done a bunch of those over the last several years, and why else would Mark Waid be supervising as ‘story editor’ on this? I guess it’ll shake out one way or another with #6 given Cates has said it “has one of the more epic and — I would argue historic — sequences in comic book history in it.” But I’m far less convinced this is gonna truly go into the meaty question of “What does Superman mean and what makes him unique in this world where superheroes in general are indisputably either failures or monstrous bastards given the scale of destruction their presence has brought about, and he himself failed to stop that?” than as some kind of holy grail of how great superheroes are despite how dang violent they’ve gotten these days for the crew to chase after, whatever additional twist will surely be placed upon it. At least he’s kinda helping an immigrant kid get over a wall, if that’s deliberate?

Random final thoughts:

* If I wrote the opening essay and turned it in in a college course, I would be expelled for plagiarizing Grant Morrison. This is not a joke.

* If mainstream American superhero comics ended January 2017 in this universe, its own last ‘crossover’ was Civil War II, which is hilarious.

* God, please tell me if it takes the dive after all that this isn’t somehow tied into whatever Waid’s Superman project is.

* I wouldn’t normally crap on issues with the finer details of worldbuilding, but A. This is rooted in a nominally ‘real’ world playing by recognizable rules, B. I’m ragging on this anyway so what’s the harm, and C. It’s really obvious. So: Why is one of the racists against the superheroes the guy who loves superheroes so much he’s the last holdout in the entire world still selling comic books about them? How does this modestly-sized shop exist long-term with apparently a significant regular customer base if there are no new comics or even reprints to restock with, ever? Who’s buying the serialized cop/cowboy comics that the U.S. government apparently created pretty much overnight (nobody, it’s just another Wertham dig)?

* The solicit for issue #3 proclaims “Don't miss this one, folks. If you do, it just might drive you...mad.”, so now I fear some kind of Ultra Comics riff.

* “Kids love chains” is the most metal-ass quote of all time and I hate that it’s being wasted as an arc title on this book.

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Seat of the Citadel

One last faction intro story, in which Shepard finally tells the Council what every Mass Effect player has ever wanted to tell them.  Unless someone specifically requests otherwise, or it is needed later, I won’t have any more “faction intros” as I’ve been writing them.  Next up is the meeting of the different governments.  As usual, I own none of these characters.  Enjoy the story.  

(A note on timelines: This takes place slightly more than halfway through the events of Mass Effect 2)

Mass Effect Galaxy

The Citadel, Capital of the Citadel Council

 The Citadel.  The beating heart of galactic power.  A glimmering jewel of elegance and culture.  An utterly massive 45 kilometer long space station, constructed by the long-extinct and highly advanced Prothean race, it was the capital of the aptly named Citadel Council, the galaxy spanning federation that ruled most of explored space.  

Discovered by the Asari in the human year 580 B.C.E., it had since remained the center of galactic power.  Open, airy, and utterly magnificent, it was a menagerie of elegant futuristic-style architecture and open water features.  Its beauty was unmatched by any other place in the galaxy; not the often conflicting human architecture of Earth, nor the sweeping elegance of Thessia, nor the simplistic, yet sturdy nature of the Turian or Salarian homeworlds.  Truly, it was a place unlike any other.  

Commander John Shepard sat in an elaborate waiting room at the base of the Citadel Tower, the large structure that housed the chambers of the Council itself.  Above was an artificial sky of brilliant blue.  Blossoming cherry trees were dotted around the large room in large pots, their blossoms adding to the Beautiful fountains trickled slowly, the sound of running water meant to calm and soothe visitors.  Shepard was anything but calm.  In fact, he was, to put it rather mildly, pissed off. 

The Council had done absolutely nothing in the two years while he had been dead.  He warned them of the coming of the genocidal synthetic race known as the Reapers, but, no, they apparently preferred the illusion of safety and calm instead of shoring up defenses and preparing for a war that was almost certainly coming.  Goddamn bureaucrats.  

Now, it was even worse.  There were nine new galaxies out there, and all of them had it together.  He shuddered as he remembered reading the briefings and documents provided by his various new colleagues.  Council will probably want to ignore that, too.  Goddamn bureaucrats, he repeated to himself.  And what did the Council do?  Invited them all over as if they were all newly discovered species.  As if they were peoples who newly discovered space flight, expected to be cowed by the might of the Council, instead of pan-galactic empires.   

Goddamn bureaucrats.

“John.  God to see you.”  Shepard looked up sharply as someone called his name.  He visibly relaxed when he saw who it was.  

Captain, now Councillor, David Anderson walked towards Shepard, a smile on his face.  Dark skin, a flat nose, and short cut hair highlighted an elegant but simple suit; the clothing of a Councillor.  Anderson was Shepard’s mentor, old captain, and still older friend.  Still more, he was the only of four Councillors that Shepard fully trusted.  

“It’s good to see you too, Anderson,” said Shepard, rising from his seat to shake his hand.  Anderson made a ‘follow me’ gesture, and the two started to walk through the extensive lobby.

“The information you sent me was quite helpful,” remarked Anderson.  Shepard rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he’d picked up from somewhere.

“Ah.  Yes.  Well, my new colleagues are a bit… bizarre,” Wasn’t that the understatement of the century?  Really weird and slightly insane would probably be better.  “But, they are quite helpful.”  Especially if you want something very, very dead.  Anderson nodded in response.

“I’m sure.”  He glanced around the room, noting several Salarians hovering near a doorway.  “But the walls here have ears.  All part of the political game,” he sighed.  “Let’s take this conversation to my office.”  Shepard couldn’t agree more. 

Anderson’s office was, again, simple yet elegant, as a Councillor’s office should be.  Smooth walls and a large window, overlooking the Presidium, highlighted a maple desk.  Sitting on top of the desk, next to endless reports, was a single picture of Anderson wearing dress blues on his naval graduation day.  Anderson slid into the chair (with wheels, of course; humans in this galaxy weren't savages) and gestured for Shepard to take a seat opposite him.  

“Some of this data is, to put it bluntly, quite concerning,” opened Anderson without preamble.  He touched a button on his desk, and a hologram sprang to life, displaying three symbols: a blue triangle with a minimalized rocket taking off on it, a black and white six-spoked circle, and a double-headed golden eagle.  Of course we’d start with those three.  “These three in particular.  Tell me about them.”  He glanced at a data pad.  “The, uh, Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation, who sound a lot like if the Alliance was ruled by Cerberus, and the Galactic Empire and Imperium of Man, who,” this was accompanied by a slightly incredulous chuckle, “Sound like some nightmare governments from a bad movie.”  Shepard rubbed the back of his neck again.

“...yeah.  Sure.  I… how should I even start,” he rubbed his neck again, “The IMC is what you think would happen if a super-corporation gained enough power to rule humanity, the Galactic Empire took power after a Galactic Republic kinda lost a horrible war.” He still wasn’t 100% sure about the politics from that particular galaxy.  He shrugged, then continued.  “But, uh, both of those governments are on the decline.  Their opposite, more freedom-loving numbers have recently beat them back.  It’s the third one that’s the problem.”  Anderson shot him a look that clearly said ‘explain’.  “You see… well, how should I put this…” He frowned as he considered what to say.  “The Imperium of Man makes Terra Firma look violently pro-alien.”  Terra Firma was the System Alliance's resident human supremacist group.  Often compared to the Nazis of old, they were uncouth, brutal, and, above all, close minded.  Anderson’s eyebrows shot up at this comment.  Shepard rubbed his neck once more.  “Yeah.  No slurs or racial barbs for these guys.”  Shepard leaned in closer to Anderson to get his point across.  “One of their mottos is, and I quote, ‘Suffer not the alien to live’.”  Anderson cradled his head in his arms.  

“Oh, God.  And we invited them to the upcoming first contact talks.”  

“Yep!” replied Shepard with slightly more relish than was actually necessary.  It would be a real shame if xenocidal zealots murdered the Council (maybe), but perhaps it would be a good thing if they shook things up a little.  Certainly, if Cain was anything to go by, they weren’t all bad.  

“How are the other three going to react to all of this?” moaned Anderson, head still in his arms.

“Not quite sure,” replied Shepard, “Although, this time, it’s all politics, so the illustrious Commander Shepard isn’t going to be able to save their collective asses, like I’ve done the last five or six times.”  His face took on a pensive look.  “Although, maybe this will actually get them to listen about the Reapers…”  Anderson and Shepard’s thoughts were broken by a blue-skinned Asari, who politely knocked.

“Excuse me, Councillor Anderson.  The Council is ready to see Commander Shepard,” said the Asari.  Anderson sighed and slowly shook his head.  

“Well, duty calls.  This ought to be interesting.”

The Council chambers were much like the rest of the Citadel: utterly beautiful with a simple and refined elegance.  Too bad such a wonderful room was squandered on the walking wastes of oxygen that were the Council.  At least, that was Shepard’s opinion.  He didn’t have much liking for politicians, and most definitely had no liking for these three in particular.  He looked up at the podium where the Councillors stood.  At least they bothered to meet in person this time.  

There were three Councillors, excluding Anderson, each from a different species.  The Asari, a graceful, elegant monogendered race of blue-skinned women, the Salarians, a short lived but extremely intelligent race of amphibians, and the Turians, a militaristic race descended from avians.  Humanity was the most recent addition to the Council, a move that many seem to resent, but thanks to Commander John Shepard saving the Citadel and the Council it housed, a move that no one could oppose.  

“Commander Shepard,” began Sparatus, the Turian Councillor.  “While we appreciate being given information about these new galaxies,” this was inflicted by a measure of sarcasm, “Some of this seems quite hard to believe.”  ‘Just like the Reapers’ remained unsaid, but everyone was thinking it.  Shepard sighed inwardly.  It’s going to be one of these meetings.  

“Yes.  You went off on your own, chasing some message, and just sent this data back.  Explain yourself,” said Tevos, the Asari Councillor.  Anderson looked like he was about to intervene on Shepard’s behalf, but was interrupted.  

“Some of this seems highly unlikely.  First you come up with Reapers, a race of immortal sentient machines hell-bent on killing us all, now this!” intoned Valern, the Salarian Councillor.  Shepard struggled to keep a straight face.  

Calm down! said one part of his mind.  Explain to them what’s happening out there!  Tell them what you’ve seen.  Getting angry will get you nowhere.

Or will it? asked another part.  They didn’t listen about the Reapers, despite being attacked by one, they didn’t listen about your involvement with Cerberus, preferring to label you a terrorist.  They haven’t listened to you about anything.  Maybe anger will help you!  Besides, continued to voice, it's not like you couldn’t find similar employment elsewhere.  The Scoundrels trust you more than these idiots ever have.  I’m sure there are plenty of people who would pay top dollar for someone like you.   

“You know what?  I’m sick of this bullshit,” said Shepard.  “I am goddamn sick and tired of this bullshit.  You can believe whatever you want to believe, despite evidence to the contrary.  I have never lied to you.  I saved your lives.  I saved the Citadel.  I died for you!” he thundered.  The Councillors seemed rather taken aback.  “Yes, still, you don’t heed my warnings!  You don’t follow my advice, even though I have not once lied to any of you.  You sit, on your comfy chairs, trying to keep a peace that will most definitely be shattered.  You do nothing because it is simply more convenient to ignore reality,” he hissed, words dripping with venom.  Spartacus bristled.

“How dare you-”  Shepard whirled around to face him.

“Shut.  The fuck up, Sparatus.”  The calm in Shepard’s voice was deadly.  The Councilors blanched.  No one’s ever talked to them like that before, I’d guess.  He would have laughed if he wasn’t in mid-rant.  “Apparently, what I gave you was good enough to invite all of these governments over for peace talks.  All of them.  You also apparently trusted myself and my new colleagues enough to give them these invitations, instead of contacting these governments directly.”  Which was probably a wise move, in the long run, considering some of the reactions would have been ‘piss off and die’ if the invitations weren’t hand delivered by galaxy wide heroes.  Were they invitations?  Or… treaties?  What was a document inviting someone to a peace talk called?  Shepard shook himself out of his tangent and continued.

“Also, it seems you trust eight unknown people more than you trust the Spectre who has never lied, saved your lives, and died for you.  Have I missed anything?” he spun around to the room, arms outstretched theatrically.  

“Fine then, Shepard,” said Valern.  “You are dismissed.  Apparently,” he threw the word back in Shperad’s face, “Our top intelligence gatherer isn’t loyal to us anymore.  Other Spectres or the STG can take care of finding out what we need to know.”  Tevos and Sparatus looked apprehensive at their colleagues's dismissal.  While they might have been bureaucrats, they knew Shepard was one of the best Spectres and intelligence agents they had.  Shepard gave a laugh; a full throated hearty laugh.

“Oh, yeah.  Have fun with that.  Have fucking fun with that.  Have fucking fun sending the STG or some lone-wolf Spectre against people who have entire armies of super-soldiers at their disposal and who can legally destroy planets*.  Have fucking fun.”  He sneered.  “This is now the intelligence game you’re playing.  You aren’t in complete control anymore.”  Shepard crossed his arms and looked up at the Council.  “So, only one question remains: do you want my help or not?  ‘Cause if you don’t, there isn’t much point in me staying, is there?”  There it was: the ultimatum was out.  Would they back down and realize that Shepard was their best shot, or would they allow their emotions to get in the way?  Honestly, it could probably go either way.  Spartacus shot a look at Anderson.  Anderson replied with a ‘hey, not my problem’ stare.  Tevos cleared her throat.

“It seems we have been remiss, Spectre Shepard.”  Shepard let out a breath he had been silently holding.  While he would have made good on his threat, this was his home galaxy, and he wasn’t particularly sure he wanted to be working for someone like Crossgrow or the Inquisition.  “As you are the only one who has had contact with these people, please give us your opinion on how we should handle this situation.”  Shepard was sure it had probably physically hurt the Council to say that.  He dismissed the thought and returned to his duty.

“First thing first: you have to present a united front.  You can’t disagree with each other.  Second, all of the species’ representatives should be here.”  Before anyone could make an objection, he continued.  “All of them.  Definitely the client races.”  The Council had four races as members, but many more that were under their jurisdiction and not full members.  Many of those races were trying (and, for the most part, failing) to get a seat on the Council itself.  It wouldn’t do if the more open minded government, such as the Federation or GA, came to the Citadel, then saw the Council treating other races as less than equals.  “Even some of the other races who aren’t officially part of the Council, if you think you can control them.”  Shepard paced the floor.

“In addition, you should probably beef up the Citadel fleet.  Send in more ships.  Turian, Asari, Alliance, I don’t care.  We need as much security as possible, and some of these governments will be impressed by shows of force.”  

“Yes… we shall think about this,” replied Tevos.  “Your input will be helpful.  Please stay on the station during the talks.”  Shepard nodded, then came to a realization.  Oh, hell.  The first meeting of all of these governments is only slightly more than a week away.  This was going to be interesting.  Or deadly.  One of the two.  

*ONI can call on Spartans, ISB has Death troopers, and the Inquisition has the Grey Knights and the Deathwatch.  In addition, ISB helped to create the Death Star and has sway over Imperial Navy battlegroups, enough to bombard a planet into uninhabitable-ness, and the Inquisition can enact Exterminatus.  Shepard and the rest of the Scoundrels would know about all of this, except for the Grey Knights.