#been experiencing gamer rage for the first time in my life the past few months but this really takes the cake!

[fuzzyhairedfreak]

dragon age veilguard fucking cancelled no autolevel for companions fuck you fuck you fuck you

[lacquerware]

2020 Recap - My Year in Gaming

2020. What a year for video games. I had big plans for last year, but in the end I did very little besides play video games, and I don’t think I’m alone there since we were all stuck at home looking for a way out of reality. I wanted to do a year-end recap as I’ve done sporadically in past years, but this one will be different than the typical “Games of the Year” format because despite all the games I played in 2020, almost none of them came out in 2020, and some of the things that defined my year in gaming weren't even games. 

Resident Evil 3 Remake (PS4)

RE3 was one of the only games I played in 2020 that didn’t coincide with the deadly pandemic's spread across the US. RE3 is, of course, a game about the spread of a deadly virus in Anytown, USA. It was an appetizer, I guess. 

When the Resident Evil 2 remake dropped in 2019, there were some things I loved about it, and a few things that felt like steps back from the original. I feel much the same about RE3. I had also theorized that a Resident Evil 3 remake would be better off as RE2 DLC than as a separate full-length game, and considering how short RE3 turned out, with some of the best sections of hte original cut entirely (namely, the clock tower), I stand by my theory. 

Oh well, at least Jill gets this rad gun, which for the time being is the closest thing to a new Lost Planet we can hope for anytime soon.

Sekiro (PS4)

Sekiro is the first video game I ever Platinumed. This is partly because conquering the base game was such a spartan exercise that going the extra mile to get the Platinum didn’t seem so bad, but it’s also surely a result of the pandemic. I needed a project and a big win. Who didn't? 

I wrote at length about why I like Sekiro more than every other modern FromSoft game, and also about the game’s cherry-on-top moment that reminded me of blowing up Hitler’s face in Bionic Commando. Please read them!

Death Stranding (PS4)

Release date notwithstanding, this was obviously the Game of 2020. I wrote about it here, here, and here. This game bears the distinction of being the second one I ever Platinumed. It took 150 hours. Only then did I learn I had a hoverboard.

Streets of Rage 4 (PS4)

This is the only 2020 game I played for more than a few hours. In fact, I cleared the entire game at least five times. I still don’t think it captures the gritty aesthetic of the prior Streets of Rages (nor even tries to), but this is probably the best-feeling bup I've played. Huge bonus points for finally bringing back Adam, but in the end I found it hard not to pick Blaze every time.

Blaster Master Zero 2 (Switch)

What impressed me about this sequel from Inti Creates was that it wasn’t just more of the same, even though that would've been fine. BMZ2 builds on its already excellent predecessor with a catchy new format where players can freely cruise the cosmos and stages take the varied form of planets—some big and sprawling, others short and sweet. Hopping at will from planet to planet without ever knowing what experiences and treasure each one held felt like system jumping in No Man’s Sky and island hopping in The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass, both of which felt like opening presents.

Dragon Force (Saturn)

Charming, satisfying, and addictive as a bag of chips. Unlike a bag of chips, when it’s over, you can do it all again. And again. And it’ll be different each time! This might be the first strategy game I've truly loved. Better late than never.

The PC Engine Mini

The PC Engine/TurboGrafx-16 Mini seems a particularly justifiable mini-console for people outside Japan because so many missed these consoles entirely, the games are hard to obtain, and the lineup includes titles spanning the entire convoluted Turbo/PC Engine ecosystem—the TurboGrafx-CD/CD-ROM², Super CD-ROM², Arcade CD-ROM² and SuperGrafx, in addition to plain, old standard HuCard games. I myself didn’t know the first thing about these systems before. It’s like reliving the nineties again for the first time. 

Most of the titles included are simple action games that don't require a command of Japanese, but make no mistake: being able to understand Snatcher and TokiMemo does make me feel like an elite special person worth more than many of you. 

(Side note: From a gender representation perspective, the difference between Snatcher and Death Stranding is stark. Virtually every interaction with every woman or girl in Snatcher is decorated with ways to sexually harass her. Guess someone finally had a conversation with our favorite auteur.)

A Gaming PC

I’d threatened to transition to PC gaming for years after beholding the framerate difference between the console and PC versions of DmC in 2012, and last July I finally took the leap, buying an ASUS “Republic of Gamers” (ugh) laptop with an NVIDIA GeForce RTX 2070 Max-Q GPU. It seems like consoles are getting more PC-like all the time, especially with all these half-step iterations that splinter performance and sometimes even the feature set (à la the New 3DS and Switch Lite), so with the impending new generation seemed like a fine time to change course.

In the half-year since, I’ve barely played a single PC game more recent than 2013, but just replaying PS3-era games at high settings has been like rediscovering them for the first time. 

I also finally experienced keyboard-and-mouse shooting and understand now why PC gamers think they're better than everyone else. Max Payne is a completely different game with a mouse. Are all shooters like this??

The USPS

Early in the year, I rediscovered my childhood game shop, Starland, which is now  an online hub known as eStarland.com with a brick-and-mortar showroom. To my delight, it has become one of the best and most modestly priced sources for import Saturn games in the country, and I scored Shining Force III’s second and third episodes, long missing from my collection, for a mere ten bucks each!  

In June, I treated myself to a trio of Saturn imports from eStarland: the tactics-meets-dating-sim mashup Sakura Taisen 2, the nicely presented RTS space opera Quo Vadis 2, and beloved gothic dungeon crawler Baroque. Miraculously, this haul amounted to just around thirty dollars total. Less miraculously, they never arrived. This was the second time I’d had something lost in the mail in my entire life, and also the second time that month. Something was wrong with the USPS, and it wasn’t just COVID pains. We would soon learn Trump had been actively working to sabotage one of the nation’s oldest and most reliable institutions in a plot to compromise the upcoming presidential election.

Frankly it’s a miracle there’s still such a thing as “delivery” at all, and a few missing video games is the last of my worries considering what caused it, but nevertheless this was an experience in my gaming life that could not have happened any other year. I won’t forget it.

*By the way, USPS reimbursed me for the insured value of the missing order, which was fifty bucks. So I actually profited a little off the experience.

Mega Everdrive Pro

I love collecting for the Genesis and Mega Drive, but I will not pay hundreds of dollars for a video game that retailed for about sixty.  The publishers never asked for that, and the developers won’t see a (ragna)cent of the money. I'm also far less inclined to start collecting for Sega CD, since the hardware is notoriously breakable, the cases are huge and also breakable, and the library just isn't that good. 

Still, I'd been increasingly curious about the add-on as an interesting piece of Sega history, so when I learned Ukranian mad scientist KRIKzz had released a new Mega Everdrive that doubled as a Sega CD FPGA, I finally took the plunge into the world of flash carts. This has proven a great way to play some of the Mega Drive’s big-ticket rarities I will never buy—namely shmups like Advanced Busterhawk Gley Lancer and Eliminate Down—as well as try out prospective additions to the collection. I never would have discovered the phenomenal marvel of engineering and synth composition that is Star Cruiser without this thing, but now that I have, it’s high on the shopping list.

The Mega Everdrive Pro is functionally nearly identical to TerraOnion’s “Mega SD” cartridge, but slightly less expensive, comes in a “normal” cartridge shell instead of the larger Virtua Racing-style one, and supports a single hardworking dude in Ukraine rather than a company with reportedly iffy customer service.

Twitch

Getting a PC also resolved issues that had long prevented me from achieving a real streaming setup, and much of my gaming life in 2020 was about ramping up my streaming efforts. I even made Affiliate in about a month. Streaming has been a great creative outlet and distraction, as well as a way to connect with other people during the COVID depression and structure my gaming time. Find me every Monday through Thursday 8-11pm Eastern at twitch.tv/lacquerware.  

Metroid: Other M (Dolphin)

PC ownership also gave me access to the versatile Dolphin emulator, liberating a handful of great Wii exclusives from their disposable battery-powered prison. 

One of the Wii games I fired up on Dolphin was Metroid: Other M, a game I’d always wanted to try but had been dissuaded by years of bad publicity and the fact that I never had any goddamn batteries. I know I should temper what I’m about to say by acknowledging that I was playing at 1080p/60fps on a PS4 controller so my experience was automatically a vast improvement over that of all Wii players, but I’m increasingly confident Metroid: Other M was the most fun I’ve ever had playing a Metroid game. I haven’t decided yet if I’m willing to die on this hill, but I will just say that if you like the Metroidvania genre in general and aren’t particularly attached to the Metroid series’ story or its habit of making you wander aimlessly for hours, there’s a very high chance you will enjoy Other M—especially if you play it on Dolphin.

Don't Starve Together (PC)

Don't Starve is the only game my friend Jason plays, so last year I tried to get into it with him. I respect this game's singular devotion to the concept of survival, but make no mistake: every session of Don't Starve ends with you starving to death. Or freezing. Or getting stomped by a giant deity of the forest. The entire game is staving off death until it inevitably comes. Even when death comes, you can revive infinitely (in whatever mode we were playing), which means even death is not an end goal. There is no end goal. You don't even have the leeway to "play" and create your own meaning as you do in similarly zen  games like Dead Rising. 

Don't Starve is a game for people for whom hard work is the ultimate reward in and of itself. Don't Starve told me something about Jason. 

G-Darius (PS1)

In the early fall, Sony announced they were dropping PS3, PSP, and Vita support from the browser and mobile versions of their PSN Store, and since the PS3 version of the store app runs like a solar-powered parking meter in Seattle, I decided this was my last chance to stock up on Japanese PSN gems. 

Among my final haul, the PS1 port of G-Darius proved an instant favorite. Take down the usual cast of mechanized fish in a vibrant, chunky, low-poly style that perfectly inhabits the constraints of the original PlayStation hardware. I believe this is the first Darius game that lets you get into giant beam duels with the bosses, which is quite definitely one of the coolest things a video game has ever let you do. The PS1 port is also surprisingly feature-rich, including some easier difficulty levels that present an actually surmountable challenge for non-savants.

This one’s coming to the upcoming Darius Cozmic Revelation collection on Switch alongside DARIUSBURST, a good-ass romp in its own right.

Red Entertainment

In my effort to shine a tiny spotlight on some of the unsung Interesting Games of gaming, I found myself drawn again and again to the work of Red Entertainment. First there were cavechild headbutt simulator Bonk’s Adventure and twin shmups Gates of Thunder and Lords of Thunder on the PC Engine Mini. Then I streamed full playthroughs of the PS2’s best samurai-era, off-brand 3D Castlevania, Blood Will Tell and the Trigun-adjacent stand-‘n-gun, Gungrave: Overdose. Then I was dazzled by Bonk’s Adventure’s futuristic spin-off cute-‘em-up, Air Zonk, which was also sneakily tucked away on my PC Engine Mini in the “TurboGrafx-16” section. It turned out all these games were made by the same miracle developer responsible for Bujingai, the stylish PS2 wushu game starring Gackt and a household name here at the Lacquerware estate. How prolific can one team be???

Month of Cyberpunk

In November, I started toying with the idea of themed months on my Twitch channel with “Cyberpunk month.” It was supposed to be a build-up to Cyberpunk 2077’s highly anticipated November release, but holy shit that didn’t happen, did it? Still, I always find myself gravitating toward this genre in November, I guess because I associate November with gloom (even though this year it was sunny almost every day). A month is a long time to adhere to a single theme, but cyberpunk is such a well-served niche in gaming that I could easily start an all-cyberpunk Twitch channel. The fact that we’re so spoiled with choice makes Cyberpunk 2077’s terrible launch all the more embarrassing. Here are just some of the games I played (and streamed!) in November:

Ghostrunner Shadowrun (Genesis) RUINER Remember Me Transistor Rise of the Dragon (Sega CD) Shadowrun (Mega CD) Cyber Doll (Saturn) Binary Domain Shadowrun Returns Blade Runner (PC) Deus Ex: Human Revolution Deus Ex: Mankind Divided Observer

Shadowrun on the Genesis gets my top pick, but the two most recent Deus Ex games are great alternatives for those looking for something in the vein of 2077 that isn’t infested with termites.

Lost Planet 2

Every year. I played through it twice in 2020.

Dead Rising 4

I slept on this one too long. While it's a far cry from the original game, it's easily the most fun I've had with a Christmas game since Christmas NiGHTS. This is the game a lot of people thought they were getting when they bought the original Dead Rising with their new Xbox 360--goofy, indulgent, and pressure-free.

Devil May Cry 5: Vergil (PS4)

Vergil dropped for last-gen consoles in December and breathed a whole lot of life into a game that was already at the head of its class.

Nioh 2

I’ve only played a few hours of Nioh 2 because I promised my friend I’d co-op it with him and wouldn’t play ahead. But he’s a grad student with two small children. Nevertheless, Nioh 2 is my Game of 2020.

And that's it! Guess I'll spend 2021 playing games that came out last year, and maybe eventually getting vaccinated? Please? 

[breakingsomething]

the fall part thirteen - the storm (part one)

basic summary: an unnatural storm rolls over brighton.

trigger warnings: descriptions of torture and seizure

tagslist: @synonymsforzombie @spicydanhowell @skyewardlight @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars @cest-mellow @graveyardlettuce @lower-your-expectationss

they'd fixed the gate. and not only that, but they'd put bloody barbed wire on the top of it.

all anti could do was stare numbly. there had been a hole in the fence behind the bushes for years. it was how dapper had gone in and out when they'd stayed in these very waterworks, so long ago. now it was fixed. and anti couldn't glitch inside.

he walked around the whole perimeter of the building, but couldn't find any other way in. ok, so he'd have to climb. no big deal. he'd been tortured basically every other day for five full months. he could take a little barbed wire.

five minutes later, with hands cut up and bleeding, frustratingly still on the same side of the fence, he realized maybe he couldn't take a little barbed wire.

but what were his other options? growling as much as he could with his ruined voice, he shook the fence desperately, ignoring the sharp, throbbing pains in his palms. he was absolutely going to track down every fucking council worker who'd done this and tear their throats out. he was. but for now, he had to go somewhere. preferably somewhere sheltered. a quick glance at the sky told him it was oddly dark, and it looked like it was going to rain.

anti had lived on the streets for a full year after he left jack, and then for a few months before red had caught him. well, he had discovered the waterworks and claimed it for his own a few months in to his first time alone. but he'd still basically been homeless, still fighting against the elements and people going into his territory on the daily. he was used to this. all he had to do was go find some shelter and get away from the oncoming storm. no big deal. he could handle that.

he started off down the hill, through the trees and towards the road. not many people around. just a shopkeeper closing up for the day. he looked up when he saw anti, raising his eyebrows at his shivering form.

"there's due to be a huge storm," the man told him in a thick scottish accent. anti watched him lock the doors and swing the keys on his fingers. "weather warning. everyone's to stay inside, that's why i'm closing up early. better get home quickly, son. wouldn't want to get caught in it."

anti paused, then gave a quick nod before bustling past and speed walking down the pavement. the rain had started, very light at first, but continuously getting heavier, drenching him through his hoodie and shirt to his skin. his teeth chattered, and he numbly thought that at least there was no possibility of biting his tongue now. that was something.

his tattered trainers splashed through rapidly forming puddles as he walked, rubbing his arms with his bleeding hands to try and warm himself. all he succeeded in was getting stains on his blue hoodie. the sky was getting even darker, the sheet of rain coming even closer together, and then there was the sudden, inevitable crack of -

"- thunder, do you hear?" red was saying. he'd grown more comfortable with what he was doing now, anti could tell. there was more of a swagger in his step, the grin on his face less forced and more confident. he crouched in front of anti with an upturned smirk, victory sparkling in his blue eyes. "from outside. i don't know how well you can hear, actually - we are deep down, and i can barely catch it myself. but it's definitely raining. listen, anti, listen."

anti chose to squeeze his eyes shut instead, ignoring red's words. it was a pathetic act of rebellion, but it was all he could do in this situation. he almost flinched as something touched his face; a hand, warm skin against his. he hadn't experienced that for months before now. "oh, anti," red crooned softly. "what's wrong? not feeling up to it today? is it one of your off days?"

fuck you, fuck you, anti chanted in his head. the dishrag that had been shoved in his mouth stung the stub of his tongue that was left, causing more blood to well up down his throat. the makeshift gag was no more than a humiliation, obviously. and it hurt. not the kind of hurt anti ever inflicted on himself; this pain was constant. and not only that, but the withdrawl of his carbamazepine was starting to kick in, and red had taken great pleasure in mocking his constant seizures as a result.

"no biting remark?" red laughed. he slapped anti's face, gently but just hard enough that it stung. "come on, you're antisepticeye, the eternal puppetmaster, the ceo of glitches, the - what else did jack call you in that one video? the malicious gamer!" red cracked up, snorting into his palm. anti took the brief reprive to organize his thoughts, trying to keep a poker face while the bastard was still in the room.

red noticed. "oh, well. if you're gonna be boring, that's fine by me." he sat back on his heels, making a show of considering something. "so, anyway. i was talking to henrik this morning, about the weather actually, and i mentioned you. just casually. he joked that he hoped you'd get struck by lightning. well, that got me thinking. you're a computer glitch, right? or something? what would happen if you got struck by lightning, or something close to that?"

red pulled something out his hoodie pocket; a small black device with several switches on the side. "can you guess what this is, aiden?" again with the name. anti wished he knew how he'd gotten it. red suddenly slapped his face again to get his attention. "it's yet another updated prototype of that extremely powerful electrical shock device. the one i made myself, haven't tried or tested this version yet. i suppose you'll be my first and probably only subject, won't you anti?"

anti felt the haze of an oncoming seizure already, his head spinning in a cold daze. his arms, unnaturally tied back with zip ties all the way up to his elbows, screamed in agony as he tried to lean back, away from the pain he knew was coming. "cowering away so quickly?" red laughed. anti burned with hatred. "so eager to inflict pain on others, on my brothers, even, and you don't think you can take one little shock?"

red leaned in, suddenly very close. "you know, all the switches and dials on this thing are all for show," he grinned. "it only has one setting."

and fuck, fuck, the instant pain was so excruciating that anti almost passed out immediately.

fire. fucking red hot flames being injected into his bloodstream, his body heating up in an instant and jolting entirely out of his control. like a seizure, but worse, far worse, because his seizures were more predictable - he knew how long they lasted, knew how painful they usually were. this was just agony. his tied up limbs convulsed wildly, bashing against the wall and the pipe and the floor. he couldn't even scream. all he could do was make silent cries that tore up his throat, his vision blurring, stomach roiling with what would have been vomit if he had eaten at all in the past few days. as it was, bile rose in his throat, and he choked it back, letting the current pass as his body glitched to pieces.

"there," red said once it had passed. "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

anti was shaking so hard he couldn't even look straight at him, but he could hear the smug smirk in his voice. fuck, but he hated him, more than jinx, more than the doctor, more than jack, more than everyone. he'd never been this weak and humiliated and low in his entire life and even through his agony, he found the strength to glare at red, eyes black with rage and loathing, trembling as he heard the low rumble of -

- thunder, rolling across the sky like a blanket. the sound filled his ears, his head. he hadn't realized he'd stopped dead in his tracks, frozen, eyes wide with the fucking curse of remembering.

keep going, keep going. just walk, don't think, just walk. eyes facing forward. don't think. just walk.

he knew where he was going. he didn't realize he knew until he was there, right on the doorstep, right at the pale purple door that was identical to all the others on the street. soaked through, shaking for more reasons than one, mind so muddled he wasn't even sure of his own name. but he knew this door. he knew the sound of a knock, bloodied hands ruining the paint. and he knew thunder, blocking out the sound of everything but his heartbeat.

-

chase had felt warm all morning.

maybe it was because he'd been getting out a lot more lately. he'd been getting exercise, drinking water, even eating healthier. that was partially marvin's influence - chase knew how much he'd scared him with his gun, and was making an effort to push down his intrusive thoughts and appear better so no one would worry. in doing that, he had actually picked up better habits, which hadn't been intended but he supposed was definitely a bonus.

maybe it was the fact that he'd made another friend. chase was an extrovert, but didn't actively socialize with one person more than the others, usually. lucas was different. he was really sweet, really funny, and was genuinely super interesting to talk to. chase had been texting him all of last night, until almost four am. neither of them had even noticed the time. that was something chase had missed; the wanting to stay awake so he could continue a late night conversation, having someone to talk to when he couldn't get to sleep. it was a good feeling. he had missed that.

no matter what the reason was, chase was in a good mood the morning he heard someone at the door.

he fully expected it to be marvin and henrik. they had went shopping, which chase was sure was also an excuse for the two of them to talk privately about some of the current going ons they were involved in. he didn't mind. however, there had been a storm warning issued about half an hour ago, and chase was hoping to see them home soon.

he wasn't expecting to see a soaking wet, shivering anti at the door.

"oh, fuck, shit!" chase yelped, and slammed the door shut. he didn't know what else to do. anti had been missing for almost two weeks, what the fuck was he doing on their doorstep? a quick glance out the window told chase he was still there. anti noticed him looking and quirked an eyebrow at him, clutching his arms and smirking despite his disheveled demeanor. chase closed the curtains.

he immediately called marvin. "hey, chase," his brother said as soon as he called. chase could hear the faint pattering of rain. "we're just about to check out, we got the text from the council and we'll be home soon. strange storm, isn't it? is there anything you need? we've got fuckin', uhh, tissues, mac and cheese, handwash -"

"anti's here," chase blurted. "he's standing outside the door."

there was a pause. "i'm sorry, anti's what?" marvin shouted, loudly enough that chase had to pull the phone away from his ear. "that bastard, what is he doing? are you hurt? i'm gonna kill him. i'm gonna -"

"he's not hurt me, no," chase interrupted before marvin could contemplate murder any further. "he's just standing there. i kinda, uh, shut the door in his face before i could find out what was up."

marvin sighed deeply. chase could hear henrik yelling something in the background as marvin spoke again. "ok, well, he can't get in anyway. kazuki protected the place, but she gave me the key to her spell. basically, with protection spells, they can only be unlocked by another magician if given the - you don't need all the details. point is, we'll be back - henrik, quiet - we'll be back soon. is he… hurt or something?"

"can't tell," chase said. he paced the kitchen as he talked, tapping his thighs nervously. "i'll - try and talk to him. please come back soon." he paused. "also, get me an irn bru. i'll pay you back."

when marvin had hung up, chase slowly opened the door again and peeked outside. anti was leaning against the wall, hood yanked over his head, rubbing his arms to warm himself. he glanced round when chase stepped out, a look of slight surprise crossing his face as chase shut the door and stood next to him awkwardly.

he didn't know what to do with his hands, so he pulled out a lighter and a pack of sterling cigarettes, popping them open and putting one into his mouth. anti watched him light it, saying nothing, and chase silently tipped the packet towards him as an offering. anti paused before taking one, lighting it quickly and passing the lighter back to chase. chase took it, then flinched in shock when he saw the state of anti's hands.

"fucking hell, what did you do to yourself?" he exclaimed. anti quickly hid his bloodied hands back in his shirtsleeves, wrapping his arms back around himself with an eyeroll. he didn't give an answer. not that chase would have expected one even if anti could talk without using his hands. chase exhaled loudly, already regretting coming out here at all.

"so what are you here for?" chase asked. he plopped down on the steps, at the very top mostly out of the rain. anti slowly followed suit. "where have you been the past little bit anyway? everyone's been looking for you."

anti unfolded his left hand to sign with. "so they can lock me up again?" he said, shivering. "fuck off. i'm here cause it's raining and i'm barely coherent and this bloody sickness means that i experience temperatures much more extremely. i'm probably susceptible to a common cold now, actually."

chase frowned. "you've been living on the streets this whole time?"

"water works," he signed, as two separate words. it took chase a second to translate that in his head. "there's barbed wire on top. i'm not sure why i came here either, to be quite frank."

chase watched his hands, but barely took in anything he was saying. wordlessly, he stubbed out his cigarette, stood up and went inside. he came back out a couple minutes later with a bottle of water, a washcloth and some bandages. "for your hands," he said simply. he didn't look at anti's face as he went to grab his wrists and turn him towards him. anti yelped and pulled his right arm away, holding it against his chest. chase looked up again, confused.

"is there something else wrong with that arm?" he said. anti didn't answer, but pulled his other arm away too, glaring. chase sighed. "fine. if you're gonna be a bitch, treat your own wounds. or don't. i'm going back inside."

anti said nothing as chase did exactly as he said, shutting the door behind him. something darted past the kitchen door, making chase smile. "jaffa, jaffa," he called. the black cat stopped to come smell chase's hand before racing away again, leaving him alone.

it was ten minutes of internal debate before chase came to a decision as to what to do. in his mind, he knew anti was an awful person. abusive, manipulative, a man who thrived on schadenfreude, as henrik had said. and yet. and yet. there was a part of chase that could never stand to see others hurt. he was a high empathy person - always had been, even in the few memories he had from being a kid. it was why he was so determined to believe that jackie couldn't be too far gone, that chase had to be able to save him. he felt other's pain, and always wanted to be able to help. even anti. even anti, of all people.

all he could think of was connor and louise and their three weeks away from home while anti pretended to be him. they'd been in london the whole time. fucking london. like a fun little holiday while chase had a breakdown in a jail cell because he was a suspect for kidnapping. then anti had returned them, and chase still didn't understand why. they kids had been fine. chase had gone free. everything had gone relatively back to normal, except for the fact that the kids were going to private therapy in case there was any underlying trauma from the incident. none of it made any sense to him.

then there was henrik and his two months away. that time period had been hell for chase, and he knew it had obviously been a lot worse for his brother. henrik had never fully told him everything anti had done to him, but he knew it wasn't great. he'd seen henrik's reactions to nightmares and flashbacks. although, henrik had once joked that anti was the absolute worst at torturing people. he had laughed, and chase to this day had absolutely no clue if he was kidding or not.

on top of all that… jack. just jack. chase honestly didn't want to think about jack at all.

he went and sat back outside as far away from anti as he could while sitting on the same step. anti barely looked up. he seemed half asleep, the side of his face pressed against the fence leading up to the door. he had cleaned up his hands, but left the bandages unused. he was also still chewing on the end of his cigarette, which seemed to have somehow gone out.

"you know you don't eat the cig, right?" chase asked. "you smoke it. have you never smoked before?"

anti flipped him off. "i have. bitch. but it's fucking cold and i can't be bothered."

chase rolled his eyes. "well, then why did you accept it?"

"because it was free. i'm fucking poor, and cigs are hard to steal."

chase was about to ask something else when he glanced down the road and saw his brothers walking up, holding bags of shopping. he leapt to his feet and raced down the steps and the pavement, splashing through the puddles and grinning weakly at henrik and marvin as he approached. "heyyy, so. anti's at our door."

"he's not coming in," henrik said immediately. he was shaking with rage, eyes blazing. his fingers were white as he gripped the handles of the plastic bags. "that fucker is not getting anywhere near -"

"relax, hen, we know we're not letting him in," chase said. he turned to marvin, suddenly uncertain. "right?"

marvin had never been good at hiding how he was feeling. "uh, i," he articulated. chase took a bag from both him and henrik while marvin stammered, lifting them in his arms to carry. "i - well, we can't just -"

"are you fucking serious?" henrik spat, whirling on marvin. marvin's shoulders shot to his ears, eyes widening. henrik took a step away from him. "after all we've been talking about, this whole time we've been out -"

"i just feel it's inhumane!" marvin protested. his diamond shaped pupils had shrunk to thin slits, like a cat. "this storm is bad already and it's barely even started, i wouldn't want to just leave him -"

"well, he can drown for all i care," henrik snarled. they'd arrived at the base of the steps now, and henrik immediately stormed up, past anti and into the house. the door slammed shut behind him.

chase sighed. "that went well." he shot marvin an apologetic glance. "i should go talk to him. get inside quickly. storm's due to get worse."

marvin nodded. chase bounced up the steps, not looking at anti as he went by, and dropped the bags on the kitchen table. "henny!" he called. "are you ok?"

henrik was sitting on the living room couch, fuming. he had taken his wet jacket and shoes off, but hadn't changed anything else. his short hair dripped over his eyes. "you should get changed," chase said softly. "you'll catch a cold or something."

henrik yanked his hoodie over his head, angrily tossing it to the floor. "i cannot believe that bastard had the fucking gall to come here," he raged. "and marvin's on his side - do you know, while me and marvin were out, i practically poured my heart out to that fucker, i told him a ton of shit i haven't told anyone else - and he still - ugh!" he stood and paced round the room, kicking the leg of the table. "fuck, i don't know. anti can rot out there for all i care."

marvin came in a couple minutes later. "i'm sorry, hen," he said meekly. he ran his fingers through his hair. "i didn't think."

"whatever," henrik mumbled. "is he still outside?"

chase looked through the window. "yep," he confirmed. "he doesn't have anywhere else to go, apparently, so he came here."

"no doubt to piss us off." henrik went into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. even that one motion was somehow angry. "can we call someone from hecate or something to come take him back? kazuki, or someone else?"

"weather warning, remember," marvin reminded him. "it's too bad out for even magicians. well, i suppose not, there are weather related mages, and i suppose kazuki does have aerokinesis - still. i don't think they can."

they were all very quiet for a moment, listening to the booming drum of thunder outside. the dark room lit up with a flash of lightning, and the wind roared, knocking the trees against each other with piercing whistles. the rain pounded against the front of the house, and all three men looked at each other, thinking.

"i feel henrik should be the one to make this decision," chase said eventually. "he's the one who's been most badly hurt by anti."

henrik flashed him a quick, grateful smile, rubbing his shoulders unconsciously. "i don't think i want him here," he mumbled. "this is the one place we're safe. or… was, i guess. since jackie's boyfriend got in."

"no one will again," chase promised, patting his arm. he glanced at marvin as he spoke. "kazuki fixed this place herself. we're definitely protected."

both he and marvin knew that was a silent threat.

"we wouldn't want you to feel unsafe," marvin said softly. "i'm sorry if you feel that way." he let out a shuddering sigh, tapping his fingers against the table. "so… what do we do now?"

"i don't care," henrik said suddenly. he smacked the table and got up to march over to the fridge, throwing it open to look. "someone go tell anti to fuck off or something."

marvin bit his lip and looked to chase, who sighed and silently went to the outside door. the sheet of rain hit him in the face instantly, almost blinding him. "fuck," he spat, covering his eyes with his arm. anti was still sitting right where they'd left him, head in his arms. chase swallowed. "uh. henrik told you to fuck off."

anti lifted his head and shrugged.

chase tapped his socked foot against the doorway. "are you seriously gonna stay here?"

"well, what else do you want me to do?" anti said angrily. he was shaking, and chase could barely see his signs through the rain, but he got the general idea of what he was saying. "i can't go anywhere else. might as well stay here and piss off the doctor, if nothing else."

chase went back in and shut the door. "he says he's staying here cause he can't go anywhere else and also to piss off henrik," he announced. his brothers looked at chase, shirt soaked from just a minute or so outside. marvin made a face and left the room.

half an hour passed like this. they went into the living room and turned the tv on, flipping through the same shows and movies on netflix. marvin paced. henrik didn't eat the food he'd made. they were all very aware of anti outside, waiting for the storm to end.

"we might as well throw him to jackie," henrik mumbled at one point. this comment had been completely unprovoked, but they all knew what he meant. "maybe then he'll he satisfied and stop trying to kill people."

"i'm not giving anti over for my brother to torture," marvin snapped. "no matter what. i wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing i'd participated in helping him do that."

they went quiet. another ten minutes passed, and chase tried to calm the bouncing of his leg and think about anything else.

then he snapped. "ok, i don't know about you guys, and i - i know this might make me a horrible person, but i feel awful knowing he's just sitting out there looking like a kicked puppy."

marvin nodded, wringing his hands together. he'd changed into a baggy white tank top, his hair down around his face. "yeah. i - yeah."

henrik didn't answer for a bit. he was curled up in the corner of the couch, staring at the wall. eventually he turned to see chase and marvin looking at him. "what?" he snapped. "are you expecting me to change my mind?"

they both turned away again. the tv suddenly cut out without warning, and the rest of the lights in the house followed.

"great. an outage." chase flipped his torch on to see around the room. "well, that's fun."

they were definitely all thinking of anti now.

"he can't survive without electricity, can he?" marvin asked uncertainly. "that's why jackie kept him in that room."

chase hummed in agreement. he felt sick.

henrik suddenly let out a loud yell, and chase could see his silhouette leap up and march across the room. "fuck! fuck, fuck, fuck, i hate the lot of you! let's just get it over and done with, ok, because as much as i fucking hate the bastard i don't wanna go out in the morning and find a fucking corpse on my doorstep! fuck!"

marvin and chase stumbled to their feet. "we're - we're doing this?" marvin asked disbelievingly.

"apparently so." henrik walked purposefully towards the front door, chase and marvin in tow. he hesitated when he reached it and closed his eyes tight. "fuck, marvin, just let him in before i change my goddamn mind."

marvin opened the door once more. anti was curled up so close to the door that he almost fell inside, blocked only by kazuki's protection spell. chase watched, amazed, as marvin muttered a few words and then stepped outside, taking hold of anti's shoulders. "help me," he ordered chase, who obliged, trying to help lift him into marvin's arms. it seemed that anti had gone into some sort of shutdown, unmoving and limp but still breathing. henrik's breath hitched when marvin carried him inside, setting him on the floor with great difficulty. anti moaned softly, shivering and glitching out of place.

"oh god, oh mein gott, i can't do this," henrik fretted, and covered his face with his hands. chase got off the floor and pulled henrik into a soft, reassuring hug. he didn't need words to communicate what he was thinking.

"he's unconscious," marvin said. he sat anti up, pulling his sopping wet hoodie off over his head. "i'm, uh, not an expert on this stuff. but hen, i can absolutely understand not wanting anything more to do with this. i'm honestly not too pleased with it either. but, for what's it worth - thanks for letting him in."

henrik just nodded. "yes. hm. i'm going to - i think i am gonna go lay down. i don't feel great suddenly, how very odd…" he left the room, mumbling to himself.

anti coughed, trying to sit himself up with marvin helping him. "stay still, you bastard, god." then he frowned. "blinding christ, what is up with your wrist?

anti's right wrist was extremely bruised, jutting out at a slightly odd angle. "what the fuck?" chase murmured, bending down to look. "i thought he got the cast taken off cause it was healed, how could they have missed that?"

anti's eyes suddenly opened. for a moment he looked shocked, grabbing at his arms, looking back and forth across the room. marvin waved a hand in front of his face. "anti, hey. you're in here for the time being. i'm - chase, can you go get him some new clothes? he's soaked through."

anti shook his head rapidly. "no, no, i'm fine," he signed. "i'm fine, i'm fine…"

he clutched at his stomach, waving marvin off as he tried to help. "fine, fine, fine," he said frantically, looking like he was doing a repeated thumbs up. he was still shivering as chase left the room, wincing at the sudden pain in his temples. one of the signs of an oncoming migraine. how fantastic.

he got another alert on his phone. "all brighton residents to stay inside until further notice," it announced. and the storm didn't look like it was letting up anytime soon.

this was gonna be a long night.

[bpdbiscuitblog-blog]

How Many Did You Take? How Many, My Angel? ***TRIGGER WARNING***

Woohoo is one of my oldest friends. She’s an ordained Wiccan priestess and performed the marriage ceremony for my second husband and me. She’s been my spiritual advisor and counselor since before I was old enough to drink, and I’m 34 now.

Before I was diagnosed with BPD, back when I hit the Big Red Button (the one that says - DO NOT TOUCH because the consequences are catastrophic) on my life, Woohoo was still there for me. I was obviously going insane, up and leaving my 13-year marriage with my then 35-year-old husband and my 14-year-old daughter, Moon, and my house and my entire existence to move in with Gypsy, a 33-year-old failed musician-turned-gamer who lived with his mother and had no job, education, hope for his future, or even basic social skills, where I immediately began a life of weird, unsatisfying, and infrequent sex, binge drinking, and running from past and present trauma-drama. On a positive note, I became a teacher again, a fulfilling experience speaking to my soul, as I am a teacher in more than just career, but completely mentally incapable of taking care of myself, much less a group of 17 8-year-olds, and became overworked, exhausted, and an emotional hurricane in a matter of months.

But between the Big Red Button and the hurricane was a time of destruction and devastation where I used the fires of my own personal hell to burn every possible bridge to my old life that I could, many of them badly in need of burning, as I would never return to walk them again, but others, like the Bridge to Woohoo, one of the few structures still anchoring my rapidly deteriorating mind in reality. Woohoo never traumatized me. She never hurt me. She never sought to control me. But the night I lost my daughter Moon and what remained of my ability to cope with the pain I was experiencing, in my grief and despair, she became just another representation of that trauma, and in the days that followed surviving my suicide attempt (notice I did not say my first suicide attempt) she became one of several targets of my BPD-strengthened rage at that long-buried trauma, a casualty of Hurricane Biscuit, although I was still more of a Tropical Storm back then.

Woohoo is a force of nature herself at times. Just as crazy, just as sarcastic, just as devastating a wit as myself, Woohoo brings with her a kind of controlled chaos, a tornado-in-a-bottle personality, ready to let loose a barrage of her own hellfire if the mood strikes her, but mostly just fun, easy-going, patient, a breeze that could whip up into a frenzied tornado if the mood strikes, but content at the moment just to enjoy the current. Voluptuous, sex-driven, raven-haired, loud-mouthed, and profane could all be used to describe her accurately, as accurately as kind, generous, soulful, and motherly.

I no longer believe in soulmates, but I do believe we have, say, connected souls, and as much as anyone I’ve ever met, she is one of my connected souls. And yet, when she stepped up to do what needed to be done to save my life, I turned my back on her.

She warned me about Gypsy. Told me there was something “not right ‘bout that boy,” in her Oklahoma twang. They had an immediate dislike of each other, Gypsy and Woohoo. Gypsy called her a man-hating feminist. Woohoo called him a lazy, worthless piece of shit, among other things. Neither of them were wrong.

My response to her warnings, over and over again, like a love-struck teenager fawning over a, well, a worthless piece of shit, was a protesting, “But, I love him, Woohoo! He’s my one and only.” (I am now picturing myself striking a dramatic pose, forearm to my forehead, turning away and looking plaintively out the window into a setting sun, while declaring that she just wouldn’t understand.)

I blatantly ignored the mounting evidence that this pairing would only leave me broken and broke, and continued blissfully unaware along my journey of self-destruction, orchestrating a series of events that would leave me running from my home, my marriage, my family. I’m not saying I should have been leaving these things, at least the marriage and the home, but I shouldn’t have been running towards Gypsy, of all people. Woohoo would have been a better choice. She did offer me a place to live, a chance to “get my shit together” in a relatively peaceful environment, free for a few months at least from financial worry, a safe haven to start anew. Meanwhile, I waved merrily from my car window as I drove away, hollering, “Nah, I got this!” as I hauled ass down her driveway, blaring Gypsy’s music at full blast and heading back to the city, to his mother’s house and the tiny 10x10 room that was to be my new prison of my own making for the next several months.

Meanwhile, still unable to communicate the massive amount of emotional stress and pain I was under to anyone, my mind began bringing all my fears and the traumas of my past to bear, forcing me to deal with them however I could. Financially, I was surviving, barely, in no small part to Woohoo herself, who kept my business running mostly smoothly as the day-to-day operations manager, supplying me with a steady income even when I wasn’t actively working.

My ex-husband meanwhile had no intention of patiently waiting out my midlife crisis, immediately replacing the vacated space in our marriage bed with the first woman who would tumble into it. He convinced Moon that my mental state was due to the fact that I was a bad person who did not love her, and therefore she had no need to further associate herself with me.

The day I received that smug text message from him, superior in his position as head of a new family to control, I gave up. Oh, not without setting a few more fires of course, screaming and stamping my foot and using whatever means I could to manipulate my ex-husband into returning my daughter to me, letting me hear her voice, even if it meant terrifying a complete stranger, his new bed buddy, into thinking I was going to share photos of her in lingerie with the world. And where did I get these photos? Oh, Mr. Manipulation himself had provided those just days before when he was so very interested in seeing if I would join them for a threesome. But, that’s another story for another day.

After several hours of realizing that torturing Mr. M and and the future Mrs. M was not going to get me my daughter, my emotions spiraled me into a well of despair that I was not capable of pulling myself out of. I seized upon a bottle of pills, a prescription Mr. M procured from his doctor that I had been told was for helping me with anxiety from my ADHD, but in fact were mood-altering antidepressants that, when prescribed incorrectly, could lead to suicidal ideation.

Google is a useful source for immediate access to the LD50 of literally anything. LD50 is the amount of a medication that will, when consumed, lead to death in 50% of the population of those who take it. The LD50 for this particular medication was 15 pills. I had 30. While texting Woohoo, Mr. M, and the future Mrs. M., telling them my intentions unless they returned my daughter to me, I began counting out 15 pills. I continued the threats as I used the Everclear under Gypsy's bed (where he was currently snoring after taking a dose of Benadryl after a long weekend of my emotional drama), to swallow them one by one. At eight pills, Woohoo warned me that she was calling the police. Hours away from my location, she would never arrive in time herself to stop me. She did the only the she could to prevent my death at my own hands - she narced on me.

At ten pills, for some reason, Gypsy stirred in his allergy-med-induced coma, and seeing me swallow the tenth, realized what was happening. He took the pills away as I screamed at him, “Just five more, please, just five more!” while he screamed back at me, “How many did you take? How many, my Angel?” (Gypsy didn’t call me Biscuit. No one did at this time, actually.) After counting and recounting, doing his own internet search, and counting once more, he sighed with relief, realizing I’d only taken enough to give myself a stomach ache.

My sobs had subsided at this point, and I sat in stony silence as Gypsy stared at me, seemingly in shock at how close I had come to leaving his life, and my own, at my own hand. Then one of those loud knocks that apparently policemen are trained in, one that can echo through a house to the back of a bedroom and enter into even the fevered dreams of a hallucinating woman who just wanted to be happy, smoke weed, and eat a chocolate bar in peace, sounded through the house, setting Gypsy's mom’s chocolate labs off in a frenzied bark as well as my wails of panic.

“Tell them I’m okay, Gypsy. Please, tell them I’m okay. Tell them she lied. Tell them they lied. Can I stay here? I’m so scared, Gypsy.” With an irritated sigh, he put his khaki shorts on over his boxers, pulled me gently to my feet, and guided me to the door. “No, you’ve got to talk to them. They’re going to want to see you.”

As if I was a frightened toddler meeting Santa for the first time, he guided me to the front door. In my head, I was psyching myself up. “You can do this, Biscuit. Just act normal. Act normal. Be angry. If you’re angry, you can’t be sad. If you’re angry, you won’t cry.”

After a heated discussion between me and the cops, a worried discussion between the cops and Gypsy, and phone calls and screenshots of my texts to Woohoo and Mr. and Mrs. M. between the cops and Woohoo, it was decided that it would be in my best interest if I was detained involuntarily at a mental institution for a three-day psych hold.

In the front yard of a house I had only recently moved into, in front of people I barely knew, in front of my beloved Gypsy, I was handcuffed, crying and scared. As the cuffs clicked into place, I could see Gypsy at the front door, watching behind the glass, mouthing, “I love you,” across the void separating me from the only vaguely familiar thing left in my life. Physically, I was being kept safe, but I was being traumatized all over again, my hands behind my back all over again, forced to do something I didn’t want to do all over again.

But what else could Woohoo do? Physical safety trumped mental safety. I could never be mentally safe again unless I was kept physically safe now. At the time, I couldn’t see that. At the time, all I felt was fear and anger. For someone with BPD, fear and anger are terror and rage.

By the time I was released from my prison 48 hours later (instead of 72, as apparently I wasn’t that crazy), my mind had been fueled by this terror and rage for days, consuming my thoughts completely. Unable to turn that rage onto the people who had hurt me, I instead hurled it at Woohoo, now the sole symbol remaining of that night. I stripped her from the business, allowing Gypsy to spew venom through social media as the new voice of the company, coming to my defense as Woohoo tried to warn our contractors that there was something seriously wrong with my mental stability now.

In my gathering momentum of destruction, I decided to strike one more blow against my former friend, business partner, and soul sister: I refused to pay her. I kept her final paycheck, using it instead to shower Gypsy with books and games, gifts for his loyalty perhaps. Meanwhile, Woohoo, still in shock over my behavior thus far, now had to figure out how to make ends meet without the money she was owed, how to provide for my own godchildren, her sweet son and daughter, now just that much shorter of being able to cover expenses.

The only wise decision I made in those days was enrolling in counseling. But of course, showing up to the first session did not instantly make me see what I had done and was continuing to do. That would take time, more self-destruction, more mistakes, more trauma, and finally, finally -- partly due to that first step and the hard work of a southern Biscuit, partly due to the luck of finding her Gravy -- peace.