#but it's such a deeply compelling and raw strip-down of this life post-everything

[carefulfears]

why is iwtb scully's movie?

the whole thing is so stiff and cold and lifeless and she's just moving through it like an open wound. she has so little control over anything, including her own choices. she's not getting anything that she wants. she's not being heard by anybody, from her god to her boss to her man. there's such a thick layer of catholicism and "god's will" over the film and she's just squirming inside it, rather than rising to it like she used to.

mulder is barely in this movie, and when he is, it's through scully's point of view. it's agents in her workplace asking if she knows where he is. it's the way she takes painstaking care of opening and closing the gate. it's the way she looks almost afraid to walk into her own house, slowly moving through the entryway, staring at the door to his office. it's the way she looks at the back of his head, and then through his lame jokes. what's up, doc? i'm fine here. i'm happy as a clam.

it's the way she sighs when she tells him she worries about him, like she's surrendering. the way she gets on the helicopter. the way she jumps when he comes near her in the snow, then smiles when he tells her she did good, then melts when he says he wants to help these people. even though she wants him back in the house, tells him he's done his part, he doesn't have to stay.

it's the way he gets up to shave when she says his beard scratches her. when they argue outside in the field, the first thing she says is "stop." you're right. this is my fault. i got you involved in this. i have been through this too many years with you. "you cannot save her, not now and not ever."

the whole movie is a showcase of a part of scully that is so integral and makes me so sad. she is a walking failure. all that she wants to do is keep everybody safe, be the first mate, and she can't do it. she begged mulder to get out of all the "isolation" and work this case, and now she can't take it back. can't make him stop. and it's her fault. this little boy at the hospital is dying and she's trying to find a hail mary on google. she's subjecting him to painful treatments and admitting through tears that she's putting him through hell because she doesn't want to give up, she wants to believe it is god's will. his parents say that if only she were a mother, she'd understand, and all she can do is stare at the floor.

she tells mulder that she's leaving, she won't be coming home, and then walks through the hallway later to hold his hand when everybody dies. that's the moment that really gets me here. the way that he spends this whole fucking movie rattling on manically about how they can find this woman and she's definitely alive and they're gonna save her, like he always feels and always does. and then they open the cooler and her head is inside. it is so relentlessly punishing. he pulls his hand away.

but i think the moment that makes me the saddest is when scully finds her car flipped over the side of the road and she finds his cellphone covered in blood and she really starts panicking in a way that i don't think we've seen before. i've talked about this a little bit in the past, but this type of thing used to be common for them. he used to run off and get in crazy trouble constantly. but like she says so many times, that's not her life anymore. it's been six years since she grabbed him and ran. they haven't been separated in six years, she hasn't not known where he is in six years. she calls skinner to come get her and he can't calm her down. there's something so frantic about it.

and this movie ends exactly how it fucking began. nothing has changed. i love what a big role the snow and the cold plays throughout the whole thing, because this film is completely frozen in ice. she walks into his office and stares at the back of his head. what's up, doc?

she said she was leaving him but he got lost and she got scared, so she stays and she stays and she will stay for years. and she knows that doing this surgery on this kid isn't the right thing, she says she's having doubts. and he tells her that if she isn't sure just come home. that they'll get out of there. just me and you. the last line of the movie is her beginning the procedure.

[saferincages]

a couple of weeks ago, a friend showed me this amazing post (where the photos are far better than mine, which just didn’t want to turn out at all) of @the-far-bright-center‘s beautiful, sparkly Force Ghost Anakin, and it brought me such joy (I was maybe giggling excessively...), and today he arrived in the mail as a surprise gift! 💖

I want to take a moment to appreciate this bio, and the “weapon of choice” being loyalty and love, because it is. a lot.

this could be a very silly post (okay, it already is), but it actually gives me an opportunity to talk about something that I’ve never had a chance or reason to discuss before without some frame of context, so here is an unbelievably overemotional story (one of many regarding Star Wars’ history and special place in my life, I could write a series of these focused of specific themes and characters in all honesty) that no one really needs, but that I feel compelled to write anyway.

I’ve written before about my first experience seeing Revenge of the Sith (most recently here), so I apologize for retreading a certain amount of ground, but it’s important to know what the state of my life was at that time, which was a frightening, burned out shambles. ROTS premiered in May 2005, I believe I had just completed the physical therapy I’d been undergoing since the car accident we had that February. I was extraordinarily ill, and no one knew why (diagnoses were forthcoming), I was rapidly losing weight, and at the time, the scariest thing for me, was that I had no choice but to withdraw from school. Academia, which was such a constant for me, wasn’t even going to be on the horizon. I was, in short, not okay. I felt almost hollow in that uncertainty.

That midnight premiere was incredible, exciting, emotionally fraught, and I remember the weight and the sorrow of it hitting me in a very profound way when we got home, at which point I crawled into my bed and sobbed. I saw it several times that summer, but the final time (which is also a story a couple of my friends know, but I don’t think I’ve posted about it publicly?) was on my birthday that September. It is a crystalline memory. I can recall everything about that day, even what we ate (the cinnamon rolls my mom made for breakfast, the vanilla chai tea I had at Borders that afternoon), because it was the last birthday I had when certain things were not yet permanent, when I was still in the misty place between before and after. By then, the film had moved to our local little budget theatre, and seeing it that way, with a handful of other people rather than with a big, enthusiastic crowd, lent it an intimacy and poignancy which struck me on a wholly different level. (That was also the night Supernatural premiered, which is an aside, but don’t doubt for a moment that the events are inextricably emotionally connected for me.) September, and I should have been in school, but I wasn’t. I had no idea at that point that I never would be again, but I was frightened, and sad, and deeply angry. Anger isn’t a feeling I’d had a lot of experience with, I was a sweet, shy, overly sensitive, naive child (and teenager), but I didn’t often deal with anger, and then I usually sublimated anger with grief and guilt instead (and those things were warring in me, too, and of course I still carry them), but the anger at the unfairness of it all, at how cruel it was that this had happened to me, at how much I hated my own body for turning against me, how I irrationally hated myself for not being better or stronger or able to fight it, was consuming and yet almost childish, as though being ill was causing a perpetual temper tantrum in my mind.

My touchstone in the prequels was always Padmé, and she deserves her own post, but she was so inspiring to me, her compassion and her goodness and her belief in justice, her loving nature and her femininity and her tender heart being strengths, and never undermining her bright spirit, her keen mind, her ability to lead, her powers being her forgiveness and empathy and kindness. I love her so much and she had (and continues to have) such meaning for me. 

It took me by surprise when the aching heart of my identification in ROTS plunged more towards Anakin. I loved him too, and I had a lot of varied, complicated feelings about him already, about his gentleness and his trauma, about the immensity of his capacities and his contrasts, but this was the fall, the dark hour of the story, the nadir of everyone’s suffering, and so much happens at his hand, because of his tragic choices. When I was reading the novelization, I didn’t know what to do with the fact that I understood certain aspects of his struggling in such a harrowing way, and seeing it playing out made that even more acute. Those choices he makes out of desperate fear aren’t rooted in evil, they’re driven by the chasm of grief and terror of loss, and they’re mixed with disillusionment and disappointment and frustration. Up until the moment when he walks into the Jedi Temple, when we really see him cross a line he cannot return from, hope for a course correction seems possible. Even knowing what’s coming, it’s like...just turn back. You can still fix this. It ripped my heart out because of course he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. There’s the scene where he’s denied the title of Master, and his outburst at the council (“this is outrageous! it’s unfair!”) is tinged with an adolescent level of upset, but...of course it is. He’s still so young and he wants to trust them, it’s not ambition causing that fury, it’s desperation for inclusion, for some measure of respect, and he keeps being refused. It’s a strange analogy because the things holding me back had nothing to do with a council of old men deciding my fate, all my hindrances were physically trapping me in my own body, the jury denying me the ability to move ahead was my own failing immune system, but I understood his rage, because I wanted someone I could yell at. The person I was so terrified of not being able to save, of having to watch die, wasn’t my beloved, it was...me, the girl I was, the girl I dreamed of becoming. I’ve talked so many times about feeling like I let her down, like I’m the ghost of her, the revenant walking around in a shape that vaguely resembles her, but at that point, she wasn’t gone yet, she was just rapidly slipping away. I didn’t know what to do to save myself. People would say it wasn’t my fault, to let it go (which felt a lot like being told the useless “mourn them do not, miss them do not”), that I was still here, I didn’t ask to get sick, and I knew, logically, that was true, but emotionally all I felt was that crushing guilt and despair (all of this remains a lingering struggle). I didn’t want to be powerless. I would have clung to something that offered me a way out. I knew where Anakin, conflicted and misguided as he was, was coming from, and it eroded everything that made him good and heroic and kind, so the only power I had left was to fight against it and keep the anger at bay.

This is such a specifically personal thing that I won’t get into the analysis of what happens in regards to his descent (which I also expounded upon in that other post anyway), but every time it happened, the same muscle memory seemed to take hold of me, my hands would shake and I’d press them together, my chest would pound, I’d bite my lip to try not to cry. I have this overwhelming fear of fire, so Mustafar was its own nightmare, and I’ve literally only watched the immolation scene once (that first time, at the midnight showing), otherwise I close my eyes tightly shut. I don’t even like seeing gifs of it. But because of what I was going through at the time, what I’ve gone through since, the physical aspects of him so painfully and horrifically losing himself, being so stripped of his humanity that hardly anyone ever looks at or acknowledges him as a person again (until Luke) held its own terror (it’s such an awful metaphor when it’s examined, and it’s that re-enslavement, he did not choose that reconstruction) because I didn’t understand what was happening to me physically, and because so many people were questioning the veracity of my pain and my incapacitating illness, were treating me as somehow less (ableism wasn’t even a word in my vocabulary yet, I just thought maybe everyone had a point and I didn’t deserve the space to be heard or understood, since so much of what I was going through was invisible). I genuinely felt like my personhood and my agency was being taken away. I didn’t have school, I was quickly isolated from everyone else and kept in the (comforting yet confining) cage of my room, I didn’t know who I was supposed to be anymore, and I didn’t know what to do if no one would listen or believe me (my mom aside). The torture Anakin is put through in that conversion to Darth Vader is unimaginable and I don’t want to dwell on it, but there’s a passage from the novelization that goes in part: “The first dawn of light in your universe brings pain. The light burns you. It will always burn you...You can hear yourself breathing. It comes hard, and harsh, and it scrapes nerves already raw, but you cannot stop it. You can never stop it. You cannot even slow it down...now your self is all you will ever have...and within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame.” It’s such a wrenching description that some part of me separated it out from the villainous aspect, because the rest of it felt true. My nerves were raw and burned with sensation, touch and too much strain hurt, but my heart persistently, stubbornly kept beating, and I was left sifting through the alternating aspects of its passions (both the transcendent and the desolate).

This isn’t at all “excuse or justify the things Vader did” (since, again, this isn’t actual analysis, it’s sentimental personal nonsense), because of course I do not and never would, but the depth of empathy I had for Anakin, as a person and as a lost soul (and a lost future), and the way that left an imprint on me right at the onset of my illness became indelible.

There’s a point to this, I promise.

George Lucas did re-editing and reworkings of the original trilogy and I’ve never minded any of it, because they were his to edit and fix up if he wanted to do so, and little extra CG snippets of planets and creatures only expands the universe in my mind. That said, I realize adding Hayden’s Anakin at the end of Return of the Jedi was divisive, even upsetting for some, but for me it was everything. I’ve hesitated to ever reblog gifs of the scene because I felt like I had to justify or explain why I hold it so dear before I did, so this is my chance to do that. 

As a child, I never felt really connected to the fleeting glimpse of Sebastian Shaw (my mom actually remembers me asking why he was so “old,” apparently I reasoned at the time that Anakin should have been younger, I think because I imagined him then as more of a dashing hero, based on Obi-Wan’s description in A New Hope). Anakin never lived as that image of a more middle aged man, that was never who he was within Vader’s suit, and there was always an evincive resonance that I was seeking. Once Attack of the Clones came along, Hayden was my Anakin, he was the embodiment of that character, and I loved him, and I loved his performance (and saw so much nuance and layering in it despite what was often said). Yet one of the last images we witness of him is burning on that scorched lava shore. It’s devastating. 

Luke’s unwavering faith that some glimmer of his father still exists, that goodness can’t ever be entirely erased, that love will overcome, that throwing aside his weapon is an act of bravery and grace, is the moment when Anakin is finally released from that. “He takes the ounce of good still left in him and destroys the Emperor out of compassion for his son.” Balance is restored, and redemption is very small and quiet, not a washing away of violence, but a ceasing of it. It’s the hope that we can always find salvation, that we can still choose to act in love.

When Luke turns around and sees those spirits watching over him, benevolent and glowing and one with the Force, Anakin is his beautiful self again, as the description on this little package says, restored to the “hopeful young Jedi he once was.” The first time I saw that edit of the film, I wept. That was the connection I’d been looking for, the understanding that we’re never wasted, that our souls endure and are mended, that we can choose light, no matter how lost we feel we are, that love can persevere and illuminate even the longest night. It reminded me that I wasn’t only my body, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how it felt like it was collapsing on me, no matter how often I felt like I was failing to be the person I thought I would be, my body could never capture the entirety of who I was, or am. My spirit could still shine, my heart could still be soft.

Anakin says to Padmé in AOTC, “Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is essential to a Jedi's life, so you might say we are encouraged to love.” It’s one of my favorite scenes because it’s so sincere, and yet so richly layered in its meaning. And in the end, this is fulfilled, this belief is proven right.

People may think the idea of the Force is hokey, but because of the way I was brought up, and the intense theological discussions that used to be framed around it (particularly by my dad, we used to do this over e-mail back in the olden days of dial-up, I wish I had those conversations saved), it was a really important, formative concept for me. The Force is connectivity, it’s like a variant of the belief in Tikkun olam that parts of the vessels of the divine used to shape the world shattered, and their shards became sparks of light trapped within the material of creation, and thus exist and persist in all of us, in all the diverse and breathtaking life around us, and that we should respect and cherish that life. “The best expression of the Force is not a lightsaber fight or other combat techniques. It’s really about your connection to life, to everything around you, and your ability or willingness to let go, to find peace, and ultimately become a selfless part of existence...in the end there is no power that aids [Luke], except the power of compassion and love; the act of forgiveness and apparent self-sacrifice is what saves his father from the dark side.” 

It’s the idea that there’s something eternal within all living things, something powerful and connected that binds us together, that means we affect one another, and that we make choices as to whether those influences are for the better (or not). That we can decide to increase the power of light and warm energy in the universe. The idea that we’re not limited to our physical selves, that we’re luminous, radiant, possible beings. That we can reach out in love and compassion to heal the world, even if it’s only in small ways, even if we’re the only ones who see it exist, who know it happens, and still the summation of that additional light can radiate everywhere.

[fallencomrade-a]

                  RANDOM FACTS ABOUT THE MUN.

                     repost,  not  reblog!  tag  muns  you would  like  to get to  know  better!                      tagged  by ::  @padshiy / @warpromised

NAME ::  kristen NICKNAME ::  kris.  ten.  kay.    AGE ::  twenty - seven PRONOUNS  ::  she / her HEIGHT ::  5 ft 2 in BIRTHDAY  ::  may fourth AESTHETIC ::  blood ,  blood ,  blood pump more through my veins  ;;  black lipstick  ;;  bloody knuckles  ;;  dragonflies  ;;  voodoo  ;;  kitty cats  ;;  ying - yang  ;;  autumn leaves  ;;  tar  ;;  butterflies  ;;  faceless portraits  ;;  birds  ;;  pink hair  ;;  bones  ;;  tarot cards  ;;  gusts of wind  ;;  ink  ;;  storm clouds  ;;  aviators  ;;  bare trees  ;;  needles  ;;  skulls  ;;  cascading sunlight  ;;  constellations  ;;  string instruments  ;;  old books  ;;  steam punk  ;;  septum piercings  ;;  candle wax  ;;  sunrises  ;;  chains  ;;  thunderstorms  ;;  subversion  LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO  ::  hangman  -  the pretty reckless  FAVORITE MUSE(S) YOU’VE WRITTEN  ::  james buchanan barnes ( fallencomrade )  &&  arya stark ( thefacelesswolf ) who i would revive if the email wasn’t forever lost.  (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞  i’ve saved the url thefacelesswclf though so, that’s something at least. god, i love my murder bae  &&  i miss my murder bird.  ✿♥‿♥✿ my murder children.  WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO TAKE ON YOUR CURRENT MUSE ( THAT YOU ARE POSTING THIS ON ) ::  i’ve always had an allure to muses who lose ( normally because of a horrible tragedy of some kind ) their sense of identity  ;;  who are forced to forfeit their younger, more innocent ( naive ) selves in order to survive whatever turmoil they are suddenly and cruelly thrust into. the turning point  ;;  the moment innocence shatters, pushed to its breaking point by the harshness of reality, and the fallout that ensues after. the moment of DISILLUSION. good characters, stripped raw  &&  peeled away until their very essence, their heart, their core is compromised and that corruption that destroyed everything they were threatens to consume them as well. the tragedy of it all  -  that devastating loss of beautiful potential, possibility, safety, sanctuary  &&  happiness, stolen. i really can’t explain why i am drawn to such a forlorn trope, but i very much enjoy exploring this sense of lost identity. maybe it resonates with me slightly on a more extreme level. 

for a while ( i believe three years ) i portrayed arya stark and then captain america the winter soldier came out and i was just sitting there in the theater  ::   (●♡∀♡)  (●♡∀♡)  (●♡∀♡). everything about bucky barnes interested me. depravity stripping him from his humanity  ;;  misfortune depriving him of the life he deserved  ;;  innocence stolen  ;;  dehumanized into a weapon  &&  a horrifying shadow of his former self, turned enemy and forced to kill until death, violence  &&  abuse was all he recognized  ;;  until kindness  &&  compassion felt more similar to a physical blow and punishment, a mercy. i just instantly fell head over heels in love with the character. there was such excitement inside of me to explore him as a muse, but at the time i was actually very hesitant  &&  scared to venture into his head and into his story because he was my first and still is my only male muse, to date. i was definitely a little intimidated ( as if creating a new muse isn’t stressful enough ) but i was also vigorously inspired and excited. 

a tremendous amount of that inspiration came from sebastian stan, whose performance elevated and heightened the character of bucky barnes into something truly phenomenal. his ability to showcase such a volatile, unstable and complex character, accurately portraying both this very real threat as well as the wounded, abused victim underneath is astounding. &&  sebastian is able to play these very compelling aspects of a single character intermittently, switching between one to the other in a single blink of the eye, and then taking it even another step forward, overlapping the soldier’s and bucky’s very different, distinct characteristics and portraying the product of both. this duality he was able to bring to bucky was mesmerizing, and he managed to do it without saying much. he only had  -  what, ten lines in the whole movie? his performance is truly remarkable.

another aspect that resonated very deeply with me was steve’s  &&  bucky’s friendship  &&  brotherhood. the tragedy of steve’s story is gut-wrenching, that the only two people left from his time ( the only two people who really knew steve rogers ) view him as a stranger. two very different boys  -  each with their own distinct and compelling personality  -  who became best friends at a very young age. ( buck also takes great PRIDE as being one of the very few people who accepted steve as he was. ) even when i had nothing, i had bucky. T.T they grew up together, persevered through so many hardships. ( steve’s chronic illnesses, the great depression, the death of sarah rogers, poverty, war. ) through it all, building a strong bond that transcended time. it was steve, and only steve, who was able to revive james barnes. 

both bucky and steve’s stories are also very similar in composition -  both products of the same serum and experimentation, one who flourishes ( per se ) in the role and the other who horrifically crumbles beneath it  ;;  stolen from the world  &&  cut off from their destined timelines by the grips of death, only to be thrust into a new world, pitted against each other and told to  fight; to kill the only familiar pieces of themselves that remain. their stories ( both individually  &&  intertwined ) are just so very compelling and deeply, emotionally intricate. i saw so much potential to explore so many new things. i strapped in  &&  haven’t looked back since. (❁´ω`❁)

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE ASPECTS OF YOUR CURRENT MUSE ::  oh what’s not to love? the juxtaposition between who he was in the first avenger to who he was in the winter soldier to who he is now  ;;  he is an ever-growing, evolving character who changes so dramatically with each movie  &&  yet, is still familiar. he hasn’t lost his essence. he is still very much james buchanan barnes  ;;  he is just a lot more careful with who he allows to see him. the tragedy of his story appeals to me as well ( as explained above ), as does his constant struggle after hydra. his recovery  &&  integration back into the world, back into himself is also very interesting to explore.

but let’s talk about touch, because touch  &&  intimacy fascinates me. i adore a touch-starved character who is so desperate for tenderness and yet, at the same time is absolutely terrified and overwhelmed by it. bucky’s approach to intimacy in particular is so uniquely captivating. violence  &&  physical abuse is more familiar ( && therefore twistedly safer ) to him than kindness. he responds more confidently  &&  assuredly to brutality than he does to compassion, which is so horribly tragic but also very interesting to explore. i have a character who understands what it means to be a weapon, but not a human being.  &&  because of this abuse, relationships are particularly difficult for the young man who used to be such a lady-killer. he is suddenly unsure, namely with his own body. that swagger and confidence that used to come so easily is gone. he has forgotten how to touch without destroying  &&  views physical contact as first and foremost a threat. I burn, I freeze; I am never warm. I am rigid; I forgot softness because it did not serve me.

another aspect that captivates me about bucky barnes is his lack of guilt.  &&  and that is not meant to be in an arrogant, ‘ absolving him from the burden of responsibility ‘ sort of way. my buck just has not yet felt the full impact of guilt.  &&  i’ve come to realize it is because he still has not grasped the idea of ‘ self ‘. he still perceives himself only in the way others perceive him, leftover conditioning thanks to hydra. for decades, he was told he was a weapon. terrorized into believing that that was all he was  &&  all he would ever be. he was what they told him he was  ;;  nothing more. that sort of abuse  &&  mentality is hard to shake once it has taken root. even after defecting, there still exist countless external factors telling this very confused man who he is, who he once was  &&  who he should be. the smithsonian moral painting him as a brave and loyal solider who graciously gave his life for friend  &&  country. the captain  -  steve  -  so confident and headstrong  ;; your name is james buchanan barnes. you’re my friend. 

this power, to decide which mask he is to wear, is still something he permits others to choose for him. steve sees the hardened face of his old friend, and so  -  he does his best to be the james barnes that exists in steve’s memories. sam wilson looks down at him and sees a very real threat, someone who can’t be trusted  &&  so he bends his head and disengages, because wilson isn’t being eccentric, just cautious  -  and bucky can understand why. he is a threat. he is dangerous. he is unstable. i can’t trust my own mind. the world labels him a terrorist, something that should be monitored, restrained  &&  locked away and they are right, aren’t they? it would be the safe thing to do. until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, i think going back under is the best thing...for everybody. stark looks at him and sees a coldblooded murderer and he is. he is guilty. i remember all of them. he sees himself through the eyes of others, but has no idea how he feels about himself. in anonymity, he is allowed to be no one  -  nothing, and that is the closest he has ever gotten to discovering who he really is. 

dehumanization is also disturbingly interesting to me. i like the idea of buck  &&  the soldier being one single entity, as opposed to them being split. civil war played on this idea that buck reverts / dissociates when someone uses his triggers words. i’m very much interested in exploring this even further, the impacts of hydra’s mind control attempts. i like the idea of a combination of words used to trigger the mind into a dissociative state, but i think it would have to be a bit more complicated than what the movie portrayed. i tend to write buck as a more fluid being  -  drifting back  &&  forth between the soldier and the man. depending on the situation, he adapts and changes, becoming either harder or softer depending on the situation at hand. like the mind wipes, the trigger words would act as a hard reset, but only temporarily. i look forward to playing more with these ideas. 

not to mention, buck is a powerful  &&  deadly mofo, and i love playing a seriously dangerous character capable of great devastation. Ψ(≧ω≦)Ψ

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST INSPIRATION WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING?  ::  hands down, my partners  &&  friends. i’ve met so many lovely people on this site. it’s truly something special when you find someone who shares the same amount of excitement  &&  passion for a topic. they are my constant motivation and i love and appreciate each one of you very dearly. you have encouraged and challenged me to explore new ideas and in doing so, have also helped to build my confidence as a writer. plus, it’s so much more fun to nerd out with another person. you feed my unhealthy obsessions  &&  i love you all for it. 

FAVORITE TYPE OF THREADS  ::  CRUSHING, DEBILITATING ANGST with some desperate, needy all-consuming romance sprinkled into the mix, to add to that lovely mess. 

BIGGEST STRUGGLE IN REGARDS TO YOUR CURRENT MUSE  ::  hmm, i’d probably say  -  because of the potential for interpretation  -  sometimes i’m not entirely sure how to write buck. sometimes i struggle with figuring out what is the best and most believable way to write buck. which is, of course an issue everyone struggles with. that lack of confidence that your portrayal is in-character enough to be passable. c; you may notice, my buck can sometimes be a little different between partners / threads. sometimes he is extremely unstable  &&  violent, other times he is particularly submissive. he could be consumed by anger in one thread, obsessed with revenge and yet in the next thread with another partner, he could be apathetic to everything. i base his character off of the situation, partner  &&  muse, as well as my own personal mindset when replying to  /  creating a thread  -  however, i do my best from that point forward to base his personality off of that original characterization. it’s really a roll of the dice which version of buck you’ll end up with ( unless you make a request ) and it’s simply because i’m not 100% certain of his character, so i enjoy playing with different ideas  &&  situations. i can see how this may be interpreted as a ‘ struggle ‘ though  ;;  how it could confuse some partners. the argument, ‘ oh well, he had a different opinion or felt the complete opposite in that reply you wrote for x the other day ‘ doesn’t really hold merit with me. at least, not always. i apologize if this is confusing for some. like i said, i do try my hardest to keep him focused within the threads.  --  but yes, i like playing  &&  exploring all the different ideas and perspectives that james might have. 

TAGGING  ::  @notxofuse  ;;  @cxpt  ;;  @geislun  ;;  @rokovoya  ;;  @danversiism  ;;  + first three lovelies on my dash. . .  @dokkstjarna  ;;  @purosdecorazon  ;;  @cerisetheai